OPEC has become a very strange club.
Not merely because its members differ culturally, politically, and strategically—but because many of them increasingly have interests that point in opposite directions entirely.
This was easier to manage in the old days.
Back when oil markets were tighter.
When the cartel still possessed genuine coercive gravity.
When restricting supply could reliably terrify consumers and enrich producers simultaneously.
But that era is fading.
And as it fades, the contradictions inside OPEC become harder to conceal.
Because what, exactly, binds these countries together now other than exporting hydrocarbons?
Not ideology.
Not trust.
Certainly not unified geopolitical ambitions.
Some members barely tolerate one another.
Others openly compete.
Some quietly undermine quotas while publicly pledging solidarity.
It is less a disciplined cartel than a dinner party held together by declining incentives.
Times are changing.
And nowhere will those changes bite harder than in the Persian Gulf economies themselves.
That is the uncomfortable truth beneath the luxury branding and futuristic skylines.
The future will not necessarily be kind to rentier systems built on hydrocarbon flows.
Which is why it increasingly makes sense for some players to reconsider the arrangement entirely.
Why carry quota obligations chained to one ankle if the collective structure no longer guarantees sufficient advantage?
Why subordinate national strategy to a cartel whose leverage is visibly weakening?
Better, perhaps, to compete independently.
To move faster.
To position oneself individually rather than wait for consensus among increasingly divergent interests.
This, I suspect, is part of the calculation in the United Arab Emirates.
Particularly in places like Dubai and Abu Dhabi.
There is a growing sense that the Emirates view themselves as already moving beyond oil.
As though they have successfully transitioned into finance, tourism, logistics, luxury, aviation, and spectacle.
A post-oil future with excellent lighting.
Now, I remain skeptical.
Not dismissive—skeptical.
Because beneath the glass towers, artificial islands, luxury malls, and curated glamour lies a rather stubborn foundation:
Oil money.
The glitter exists because hydrocarbons financed the stage.
That does not mean diversification efforts are fake.
Far from it.
But it does mean the ecosystem remains deeply dependent on the capital oil generated.
Remove sufficient oil revenue and suddenly many business models in the Gulf face something unfamiliar:
The need to perform without a permanent financial backstop.
No more easy rescues.
No more endlessly absorbed cost overruns.
No more state liquidity smoothing every strategic miscalculation.
Reality becomes less forgiving when the fountain feeding the oasis weakens.
And this is where the atmosphere changes.
Because places like Dubai are not merely economic hubs.
They are psychological constructs.
Party cities in one of the strangest neighborhoods on Earth.
Hyper-modern enclaves surrounded by geopolitical instability, held together through wealth, logistics, security guarantees, and relentless image management.
It works remarkably well—
until margins tighten.
Then the real test begins.
Can these systems sustain themselves without hydrocarbon abundance underwriting every ambitious leap?
Can spectacle survive without subsidy?
Can the service economy maintain altitude when the foundational rent stream contracts?
Those are not hostile questions.
They are structural ones.
And the Emirates likely understand this better than most.
Which may explain the growing desire to chart an independent course.
To move beyond cartel discipline.
To maximize flexibility while the world changes around them.
Frankly, I do not blame them.
If the age of easy oil coordination is ending, then agile states will want freedom of movement.
And the UAE has always shown a certain ruthlessness in adapting faster than many of its neighbors.
But adaptation is not transcendence.
That distinction matters.
Because no matter how futuristic the skyline appears, no matter how many luxury brands arrive, no matter how many influencers photograph themselves against illuminated towers in the desert—
energy still sits underneath the whole performance.
Quietly.
Foundationally.
Like steel beams hidden behind marble walls.
The Gulf’s transformation story is real.
But it is also unfinished.
And unfinished stories become dangerous when people mistake them for completed ones.
The next decades may determine whether the Gulf evolves into something genuinely sustainable beyond oil—
or whether much of the glitter turns out to have been an unusually expensive intermission funded by hydrocarbons.
History has seen both outcomes before.
Usually in places convinced they were too exceptional to decline.
https://tilakdoshi.substack.com/p/uaes-opec-exit-pragmatic-oil-policy