8 Nov 2026 - 8:00am
Along with status and prestige, those who reach the top in politics or the military can expect another, less widely advertised perk: a seemingly inexhaustible supply of tempting sexual offers. But this is not merely another example of power being an aphrodisiac. Indeed, those attracting the most romantic attention are the ones who can least afford to indulge in it. That’s because some of these would-be lovers are digging not for gold, but for something infinitely more valuable: intelligence. Reports alleging that Nvidia chief Jensen Huang may have had a romantic relationship with a woman recruited to spy for China are a reminder that the age-old honeytrap remains as irresistible to the governments deploying it as to the unsuspecting marks who fall into it.
If China is suspected of planting this honeytrap, it may be because the country has form in the area. Some motives remain eternal, whether they be gaining proximity to a target to root out secrets and influence their thinking, the long-term receipt of intelligence that can be gained through the threat of blackmail, or the joy of embarrassing an enemy and exposing its defences as porous.
Yet, in the internet age, potential targets have never been easier to reach. Those of interest to Beijing report being approached repeatedly on LinkedIn by attractive women with a keen interest in their careers. Artificial intelligence has made the process easier still, allowing spies to instantly conjure up convincing profiles, seductive photographs and alluring messages. The image of a glamorous young admirer belies the middle-aged male intelligence officer who is actually sexting deep in Beijing.
Nor are the targets necessarily those one might expect. Western military and political officials are, at least in theory, trained to suspect beautiful girls who already know just a little too much about them. But China’s appetite for trade secrets and technological know-how has turned middle-ranking corporate employees, often with little counter-intelligence training, into valuable catches.
Beijing’s methods can be remarkably brazen. Alice Huang, who allegedly had a relationship with the Nvidia chief executive, was no wannabe Bond girl prowling around a hotel bar, but herself an executive at Megaspeed. On the face of it, she was hardly the most obvious candidate for a spot of sexpionage. But the case chimes with warnings from American counter-intelligence officials that Beijing and Moscow have expanded their repertoire beyond professional operatives, enlisting investors, academics and other seemingly respectable candidates to do their bidding and bedding. Some spies have even married targets and started families with them.
One aspect of the honeytrap trade is often overlooked. We tend to imagine men as the victims, led astray by lust. However, a European ex-diplomat tells me that women were always the more reliable prey. They frequently harbour banks of resentment towards their husbands, ripe for exploitation. They can be susceptible to expensive trinkets, hungry for admiration, particularly as they grow older, and tend to keep an affair hidden even once suspicions arise. Better still, they are more likely to sustain a relationship over years, providing a steady stream of titbits. And the greatest advantage? There is hardly any need to deceive them because “women lie to themselves”, according to the ex-diplomat.
Huang’s case reminds us that the honeytrap is still a valuable intelligence weapon, now further enabled by technological innovation. It is tempting to imagine the scenes inside Beijing’s intelligence headquarters: a roomful of middle-aged spies accidentally impersonating 20-something women who’ve spent too long on Bumble, agonising over why a man hasn’t replied and debating as to whether double texting would flatter his ego or decisively give him the ick. The ancient art of espionage has acquired the indignities of modern dating.
