Flogging yourself over a recent pay cut? Bawling your eyes out because you were one of the unlucky ones in the queue that missed out on a Snoopy doll? Never fear. If ever there was an hour for the heroic failure, a species which has never really flourished in Hong Kong, this is it. There was a time when the only way to have any presence in Hong Kong was to own a pile of very expensive European cars, blow lots of money on hideous kitsch items for the household, and be photographed with Hong Kong social scene veterans like Terri Holladay or David Tang. My, how things have changed. These days, it's cool to be down on your luck - and your funds. Everyone's doing it. Hong Kong's top brass are rapidly sliding down Forbes magazine's list of the world's richest people. Once-rampant property tycoons are being forced to sell units to the public at below cost price, a previously unheard of phenomenon. Gosh - even Hong Kong's very own $14 million-a-year man, Linus Cheung Wing-lam, was hit with a $421,000 pay cut a couple of months back. Poor chap. Surviving on his remaining $13.6 million or so a year must seem like a dreadful hardship. All of these factors underline Hong Kong's new psychology: it takes real skill to create a small fortune, when you've started out with a large fortune. Think of the opportunities this creates for serial underachievers. Suddenly, it's fine to see the value of your shares and your property plummet in value. Pawning the gold Rolex is no longer a cause for shame. Even snatching defeat from the jaws of victory can now be considered the height of chic. Our own Chief Executive, Tung Chee-hwa, on Wednesday delivered a Policy Address very much in keeping with the theme of heroic failure. Certainly, Mr Tung was able to achieve failure on a scale few thought possible. After all, he managed to astound pundits by delivering a policy-free Policy Address! The heroic aspects of Mr Tung's effort arose from the fact he managed to spend a record two hours and 20 minutes delivering the text of a policy-free, 62-page, 171-paragraph Policy Address - virtually without pause. That takes a unique and courageous brand of gargantuan futility sadly lacking from the Hong Kong of late. This type of record-breaking effort from Mr Tung can only help to restore Hong Kong to its rightful place atop the world standings in the area of pointless pontification. Given the absence of policies from Mr Tung's speech on Wednesday, we feel it is our duty to fill the void. We have here a modest effort that is true to the spirit of Mr Tung's contribution this week to the cause of noble failure. For a start, we say forget this ridiculous idea of pegging the Hong Kong dollar to a strong currency like the US dollar. Why not link it to a failing currency instead? Our suggestion is to peg it to the Indonesian rupiah. At the very least, it won't cost the Hong Kong Government much to keep going, and we'll be sending a message of support to other countries committed to the cause of heroic failure. Another tip: Mr Tung could reward outstanding efforts in the corporate sector to basically say as little as possible in lots and lots of words. Perhaps it could be dubbed the Tung Chee-hwa Award for Outstanding Achievement in Longwindedness. Lai See thinks it has already unearthed a potential finalist in this category: the company we found this week that calls itself the Association of Compatriots in Hong Kong for Celebration of the National Day of the People's Republic of China. Still, Mr Tung would have to declare himself ineligible for this award. Otherwise, he'd be a shoo-in. Another feature could be added: the compulsory queue, perhaps the ultimate feature of a regime of heroic failure. Who needs a useless plastic beagle like Snoopy as an excuse to get into a monster line-up? Lai See can think of other, equally obscure reasons to waste your time. We could simply queue because other people are also in a queue, and because it's highly comforting to feel we're not missing out on anything by piling into a monster line in the first place. There's always the possibility that you could sell your position in the line to someone who's lower in the queue pecking order. Hong Kong free enterprise at its finest! Apart from anything else, this queue regime thing is good for the soul. People learn the intricate details of other people's shoes, how to look very bored indeed and how to push and shove each other out of the way for no reason whatsoever. So there you have it: an integrated proposal for government policies that properly reward the new Hong Kong reality of underachievement and useless endeavour. Are you listening, Mr Tung?