@Dusk lives in that awkward middle space where finance wants rules and people want dignity. In normal systems, “reporting” often means dumping data. Big files. Names, IDs, account trails, raw trades. That’s simple to audit, sure, but it also turns users into open files. Dusk pushes a different idea: you can report facts without handing over faces. The key tool here is a “zero-knowledge proof.” Sounds scary, but it’s just a math receipt that says, “This claim is true,” while hiding the private parts that would expose people. And “selective disclosure” is what it sounds like too. You choose what to reveal, to whom, and you can prove you didn’t fake the rest. So what could a regulator actually receive, in a Dusk-style world? Picture a report that feels like a normal pack, but with a twist. The regulator gets totals that matter, and proofs that those totals match reality. If a fund says its net asset value is correct, it can send the number plus a proof that the number came from real holdings, real pricing rules, real limits. If a venue says it blocked banned users, it can send a proof that every trade met the policy, without naming the good users who did nothing wrong. If there are caps, like “no one can hold more than X,” the report can prove the rule held across all accounts, without listing every wallet. The chain can hold “commitments,” which are like sealed envelopes made of math. You can’t read the inside, but you can tell if someone swapped the paper later. That matters, because it turns a report from “trust me” into “check me.” Now imagine the workflow. A firm builds activity on Dusk. Trades, token moves, share lists, whatever the product is. Behind the scenes, it keeps private details private, but it also keeps a clean trail of proofs tied to time. When month-end comes, it doesn’t export a giant spreadsheet of client actions. It exports claims: exposures, flows, risk bands, limit checks, reserve match, and the proofs that back each claim. The regulator can verify those proofs fast, like scanning a QR code. No phone calls to ten banks. No guessing if the data was edited at 2 a.m. And if something looks off, the regulator can ask for a tighter view. That’s where selective disclosure earns its keep. You don’t flip the whole system into full public mode. You open a small window, for a narrow case, to the right party, with a clear log that it happened. This is not magic. It’s a trade. Privacy-preserving reporting shifts effort from “collect everything” to “prove what matters.” It also changes the tone between builders and watchdogs. Less drama. Less fear that one report will leak and ruin lives. More focus on whether rules were followed, funds were real, limits were honored, and risk was seen early. Dusk is basically saying: regulators don’t need your users’ diaries. They need strong answers. Clean numbers. And receipts that don’t gossip. Not financial advice. Just a better way to imagine reporting in a world where privacy isn’t a crime, and compliance isn’t a data grab.
