So, here’s the deal: Heilongjiang Province’s Environmental Bureau holds a meeting to discuss environmental law enforcement in 2009, and they invite journalists to attend. But the catch? They refuse to make public the list of companies who are illegally polluting the environment. A number of journalists were so incensed by the environmental bureau’s actions that they actually left in the middle of the meeting.

Here’s the gist of why the journalists are angry and an on-the-fly translation:

按照《政府信息公开条例》、《环境信息公开办法(试行)》均属于公开的内容。《环境信息 公开办法(试行)》第四条明确规定， 环保部门应当遵循公正、公平、便民、客观的原则，及时、准确地公开政府环境信息。 黑龙江省环保厅有何理由不公开违 法排污企业的情况?而且，记者想要公开的内容，恰恰是公众最想知道的内容，也是治理违法排污企业的有力武器。黑龙江省环保厅岂能向媒体保密、向公众保密? 这不仅是对记者采访权的干扰，也是对人民群众的知情权、监督权的破坏。

According to “Government Information Public Disclosure Regulation”, “Environmental Information Public Disclosure Methods (Draft)”, this is information that needs to be disclosed to the public. The 4th regulation of the “Environmental Information Public Disclosure Methods (Draft)” clearly states that China’s environmental bureaus should adhere to the principles of justice, equality, convenience for people, and objectivity, and, in a timely and precise manner, publicly disclose the government’s environmental information. What reason does the Heilongjiang Environmental Bureau have to not disclose the status of those illegally polluting companies? Furthermore, the information that the journalists are interested in is also the information that the public is most interested in as well. It is also the most powerful weapon we have for controlling those illegally polluting industries. How can the Heilongjiang Environmental Office keep this secret from the media and the public? This not only disturbs a journalist’s right to interview, it also undermines the general public’s right to information and right to supervision.

Perhaps it isn’t surprising this is happening, given the huge benzene spill that hit the Songhua River in late 2005:

HARBIN, China, Nov. 25 – A toxic 50-mile band of contaminated river water slowly washed through this frigid provincial capital on Friday, leaving schools and many businesses closed, forcing millions of people to spend a third straight day without running water and raising fears of a long-term environmental disaster.

Well, it’s Earth Day — as for the “Happy Earth Day”, I’ll leave that up to you.

It’s quite an oddity, isn’t it? When you think about it, when was the last time you saw a department in, say, the UK or the US touting the nationalities of its own faculty? But, when you closer, there’s nothing odd about it at all. It’s yet another reminder of how China still devalues being Chinese.

It all began with the Opium war in the 1840s, when the British seized Hong Kong, which remained in British hands up until 1997. That was the first time China was so humiliatingly defeated on its own soil. Soon, China was sliced and diced like a poor piece of Beijing duck by the foreign powers who were desperate to capitalize on trading opportunities with the Middle Kingdom, but despising of the harsh and limited legislation which had previously made it difficult for them to get in. Dalian, Tianjin, Shanghai, Xiamen, Hankou, Guangzhou — all, and much more, were conceded to the foreigners by China, which became increasingly fearful of the military might and strategy of the British, French, Russians and other foreign powers. By the time China did finally defeat a foreign power, the Japanese during World War II, for the first time in over a hundred years, there was such a depressingly long list of defeats at the hands of foreigners that somehow the damage had already been done, leaving the Chinese with one conclusion: foreign is better.

Not surprisingly, pretty soon being associated with something foreign meant higher status: getting a foreign degree to learn foreign technology and ideas, wearing expensive foreign fashions, living in a community named “Santa Fe” with foreign-style homes, driving a luxury foreign car. But topping this list has always been that coveted foreign citizenship.

To understand this in action, consider the movie Drifters, about a young Chinese man named Hong from Fujian who was deported from the US to his hometown and . The man fathered a son in the US, but even though the son is back visiting his hometown, he cannot see the son — a son that the grandparents call an “authentic American citizen”. In one scene, the grandparents even claim that the son is protected by American law. They are, in every way, far above the lowly Hong, who is not an American and only but a migrant laborer who failed in his attempt to stay in the US.

It is such a sad state of affairs that Chinese look to passports as a sign of status and value — especially so on this top-ranked university’s website. For them, it was not enough to boast of their faculty’s scholarship and research; they had to show how many Americans were on their staff to lift themselves up, because someone must have inherently thought that, if people considered them all to be Chinese, then surely their department would not have been nearly as good. It isn’t being Chinese or American that makes us better or worse — it’s what we do with our lives that counts.

I look forward to the day when China no longer feels content to look to foreign citizenship, items and ideas for their value, but instead to themselves — to the ingenuity, innovation and leadership that has distinguished China in the past, and bring them to a new and brighter future.

It takes a certain kind of person to live in China now….Someone who can see true meanings, someone who does not only want the world better but believes it can be made better, and gets angry because it is not done, someone who is not willing to hide himself in one of the few good places left in the world–someone who is tough!

This was the story I heard from a business contact I met with a couple of weeks ago. He works for a large chemical manufacturer with a presence in China, and they needed their website translated into Chinese. His choice was to hire a local student from China for the job. Once he presented the translation to his Chinese business partners, they weren’t impressed — the errors actually made him and his company look less professional in their eyes.

My point here isn’t to criticize Chinese students. There are no doubt Chinese students studying here in the US who can produce fine translations. But without knowing their abilities, you’re always taking a chance and, ultimately, putting your company’s reputation on the line. Keep in mind also that, since they are students and usually new to US business culture, they will miss the nuances or terms that are so second nature to us we don’t even realize they’re idiomatic or culture-specific.

I always remind people that, between me (US native fluent in Mandarin Chinese) and my husband (Chinese national fluent in English), we understand the business cultures of the US and China. We also cover the entire linguistic field and, when we collaborate on a translation, the result is the message you intended in the first place.

Seems simple enough — that translation was meant to translate exactly what you wrote in the beginning. But sometimes your intention isn’t enough to get it right.

Why do some Chinese students, after years of grueling study, toss away their higher education when it comes to their career choices?

There’s clearly something amiss in China when it comes to getting higher education, as mentioned in this article “Record students seeking to enter postgraduate courses, but job market expert says employers prefer experience“:

Some candidates who registered this year [to participate in the postgraduate entrance exams] fear their undergraduate education is insufficient. Others say they want to study abroad but cannot adapt to foreign education systems or pay overseas tuition. Yet others want to delay joining the estimated 600,000 to one million graduates who will enter the job market next June and gain an edge over future competition.

“I know a lot of people on the [job search] path, but I’m not mature enough, my undergraduate studies are not enough,” said Wu Yiyu, an accounting student at the Beijing University of International Business and Economics. She will take the postgraduate entrance exam at a People’s Bank of China research institute. Three of her roommates are also studying for the exam. One is applying for jobs as she prepares for the exam and will decide which works out better by June. Another accounting student, Han Yuxuan, hopes to enter her university’s graduate programme because she feels she lacks skills. She also has a chance at free schooling and sees advantages in delaying work. “There are so many Chinese students and competition is so intense, so there are people doing this to escape,” Ms Han said. “But it isn’t my major reason.”

People are, in part, products of their culture. And in China, the culture says, higher education is how you change your life.

In feudal times, young scholars studied fiercely with the hopes of passing the national exams to become an official — a ticket for their families to wealth, prosperity and higher status. It’s no different today, where officials enjoy cars, apartments, travel and dining privileges, with the tab generally picked up by the state. To become an official, you still have to participate in competitive exams.

Even recently, in the 1980′s, college assured lifetime stability. People who gained admission into college in that era were guaranteed a job — the whole “iron rice bowl”. It may not have been the best job, but it was essentially a job for life.

There is the problem of residency, too. Many people are barred from seeking their fortunes in the big cities because they are not allowed to become residents. It’s not like the place I live in the US. When I moved into my city, all I had to do to prove residency was bring in a couple of bills or bank statements or anything else addressed to me at my new address in the city. In China, however, merely having a Shanghai apartment doesn’t make you a Shanghai resident. Getting that residency for non-Shanghai residents is almost as bureaucratic and frustrating as getting a visa in the US. Yet, if you become a STUDENT in a Shanghai university, you can become a resident — provided that you get a job by the time you graduate.

As a result, this whole residency mess has further elevated the status of higher education into something truly transformational. I have a number of nameless friends who intentionally sought to pursue majors with little competition just so they could go to Beijing or Shanghai with the intention of becoming a Beijing or Shanghai resident. Most ended up getting jobs, sometimes not their ideal, sometimes better than expected. But they were able to become big-city residents — their primary goal.

Arguably, this model could be applied to study abroad, where students might also apply for certain majors or to certain schools, with the intention of becoming a permanent resident. My friend Douglas initially wanted to get a PhD in the US, ultimately as a means to gain residency there.

The saddest thing, however, is that Chinese people weren’t provided real guidance on how to succeed. People are taught to go through the educational system, but aren’t taught about how to discover what they really want to do. There isn’t much in the way of career counseling or vocational guidance to help students clarify their life goals, and then discover how to achieve them. So, people blindly follow the time-tested model of higher education as success.

Chinese society also didn’t provide enough alternative models of success. People such as my husband’s cousin, Jianfei. Jianfei failed the high school entrance exams in China, and decided to join the army. Once out of the army, after a few years of doing mindless work, he discovered the business of being a local courier. He eventually became the boss of one of Shanghai’s districts, and makes enough to drive a luxurious Volkswagon. Is he successful? Sure. But you’re definitely not going to see a lot of articles lauding guys like him as the next new model entrepreneur.

Abandoning a PhD is a lot more complicated than just poor planning. Sometimes education is simply a means to an end (residency) or seemingly the only option available, because you just didn’t know better.

In the meantime, I wish my aforementioned Chinese friends success in their new endeavors. Because, after all, there’s only one thing worse than getting a PhD you don’t want — never following your true dreams.

First, robbery, theft and fraud reveal a robber’s intention to get desired things through illegal means. The young generation born in 1980s and 1990s faces far more material attractions, such as computers, cellphones, and mp3s, than the previous generations. And they are given more than former generations. They are used to asking for more and getting more. But their parents’ limited ability could not satisfy their children’s unlimited desire for more. The delinquents’ committed robberies suggest these kids did not acquire and act on the social values that encourage success through hard work.

Second, intentional injury and rape indicate a disrespect of the well-being of others, besides a serious crime. Those delinquents show an extremely self-centered view of the world, in thought and action. In the delinquents’ mind, they are the only people who have feelings and rights. They lack an adequate capacity for emphasizing with others.

Third, gang fighting shows a belief in solving problems through violence. Society should provide multiple paths for peaceful resolution of disputes. In addition, society, community and family should model settling disputes and venting emotions through peaceful means.

Further reading:

China Youth Crime ‘in Rapid Rise’ – BBC

Crimes by Juveniles rise, China says – New York Times

Today, an article in the New York Times titled Lessons Even Thomas Could Learn really hits that point home.

After all of the egregious recalls over lead in the paint, many US residents had lost confidence in toys — many of which are manufactured in China:

…by September — with Mattel recalling millions of toys — lead paint seemed to be the norm for the toy industry. As Sean McGowan, a toy industry analyst, said in a front-page article in this newspaper, “If I went down the shelves of Wal-Mart and tested everything, I’m going to find serious problems.”

NY Times reporters wanted to discover just how true that claim was. They went out of their way to buy toys that had red and yellow paint — often more likely to contain lead than other colors — toys made in China and other countries with less regulation, and toys stocked by Wal-Mart and lesser-known retailers. Then they got the toys tested for lead.

The surprising result? None of the 50 toys had lead levels beyond what US law permits. That means that the lead problems weren’t some epidemic problem among toy manufacturers (including toy manufacturers in China) — rather, the US toy companies in the recalls weren’t practicing due diligence. It’s a cautionary tale for anyone who is quick to point the finger at China:

The companies involved in the recent recalls aren’t simply the unlucky ones that got caught. Either out of carelessness or a misplaced cost-cutting zeal, they are the ones that didn’t make the effort to keep their toys safe.

When Ms. Nordquist first had her toy-chewing, 17-month old daughter tested for lead this year, the results showed that she had more lead in her blood than any parent should want. When the girl was retested recently, months after the Thomas trains had been put out of her reach, the level had fallen significantly. Two tests prove nothing, Ms. Nordquist notes, but they are enough to make a mother angry.

I called Curtis W. Stoelting, RC2’s chief executive, and Peter J. Henseler, its president, to ask why parents should have faith that RC2’s new safety measures would work better than its old ones. Neither executive called me back. Instead, representatives from two public relations agencies working for RC2 sent me a memo that almost hilariously avoided most of my questions.

Ms. Nordquist had a similar experience. After mailing her recalled trains to RC2 and enclosing a letter requesting a refund, she received an e-mail message signed, “Consumer Services.” It didn’t acknowledge her refund request but promised that replacement trains were on the way. The message also thanked her for the trust she had placed in Thomas.

“I guess you didn’t bother to read the letter I enclosed,” Ms. Nordquist wrote back. “Any trust I had with your firm is gone. I do not want any replacements. I want a refund. You have endangered my children.”

I find it particularly telling how RC2′s PR team dodged the real issues in their response. Isn’t that something we often tend to blame China for — that is, a lack of transparency and a general tendency to avoid responsibility? Yet here you have it, a US company who can’t even admit they’re wrong, and has the hubris to think they can get away with this and still remain successful in the marketplace.

Before we chastise China as the root of all manufacturing evils, we’d better think about the US and other companies who are quite often the ones “pulling the strings” up top.

It’s not a surprising reaction. This supposedly “Golden” year of the Pig is turning out to be more porcine than prosperous, thanks to the slew of recalls — especially for toys. It hasn’t been great PR for China, as evidenced by this “man-on-the-street” piece with interviews of Clevelanders. Just about everyone in the video has sworn off Chinese products. (Whether they’ll be able to stick to that is another story…)

The subject of embarrassing recalls surfaced over a lunchtime conversation with my brother-in-law’s colleague, Mr. Wu, in China, back in July. My arguments hit the usual suspects — such as the manufacturers’ shirked responsibilities.

Mr. Wu didn’t disagree. But he did make a rather compelling point — what about the US companies? They also have a responsibility for quality assurance. Plus, China is a developing country. While the US has been doing due diligence in business for at least 50 years, if not more, China has only seriously cleaned up its act within the last 10 years or so. Has the US forgotten that it too has a tarnished history of manufacturing substandard and dangerous goods — one that it overcame only through experience and robust law enforcement (two resources that China desperately lacks)?

We easily forget the snake-oil sellers of the 1800′s, or the deplorable conditions of meat-packing workers described in the Jungle or the current muckracking classic Fast Food Nation. We have amnesia about our vulnerable food supply, evidenced by the E. coli Spinach scandal of 2006. Many of China’s mistakes were made here in the US long ago, and some continue to surface every now and then — a reminder that even we, a superpower, can’t always remain in control. Yet it is so easy to push the blame on a developing country — and neglect our true involvement in the making of a scandal.

When US companies manufacture in China, they have a responsibility to ensure quality — just as their manufacturing partner does. Of course, they want to find reliable partners who are less likely to have quality transgressions, and thus require less supervision. Yet, perhaps some US companies turned too much of a blind eye. They clearly didn’t have a handle on what was really going on in their factories. In some respects, they did not provide enough oversight on the ground — something that many of the “rising stars” in the China manufacturing world, trustworthy though they may seem, might require. Compared to their US counterparts, these manufacturers haven’t been in the game that long. They have a hard time keeping a long-term perspective about anything — because their successes have been fast and intense. China’s law enforcement is also notoriously unreliable, which trickles down into the manufacturing environment.

I am not absolving the Chinese manufacturers of their wrongdoing. Breaching contractual agreements — especially when it can endanger the health of the end-user — is just not good business.

But perhaps Mattel does owe their Chinese manufacturers an apology too. If Mattel failed in their supervision, in setting a standard and tenor for their Chinese partners, they hold equal responsibility for the recalls.

When I walked into the wedding flower shop in Tonglu, China — my husband’s hometown — I knew exactly the kind of flowers I wanted: roses, just like the roses on my wedding dress. The shop owner, however, didn’t ask us what type of flowers we wanted. Instead, she asked us how much we were willing to spend: 380RMB, 580RMB or 800RMB.

The implication was this: money defines who you are. The more you spend, the better you are.

I came for roses, and I was holding my ground. Even if they were on the lowest (380RMB) tier of pricing.

But most Chinese consumers would probably be tempted to go for the 800RMB choice — whatever it was. Why? Because it makes them look good in the public eye…and just as the salesperson said, it’s the trendy choice.

Chinese culture has long valued face, or mianzi. And as a collective country, Chinese people tend to easily follow mainstream trends; they desire conformity. All this spills over into consumer behavior, creating what many refer to as “mianzi consumption.”

If you’ve spent any time in China, you’ve probably seen mianzi in action already. Think about gift-giving customs — the packaging is just as important, if not more so, than the actual product. (this has, not surprisingly, led to excessive packaging in China). You’ll find these elaborate, overwhelming packages, all in the name of giving the sender good face. Shanghai’s Maglev Train, supposedly one of the most hi-tech trains of its kind, was built in the name of giving the city some good mianzi. Doesn’t matter that the design (forcing riders to take the metro before switching over to it), hours (it only runs 8:30am to 5:30PM) and cost (40 RMB one way — a lot for a lot of inconvenience, considering direct buses only cost half of that) have rendered it utterly useless.

Mianzi consumption takes the concept of face into the world of shopping, allowing Chinese consumers to exchange their renminbi for services and products that will boost their face and reputation — sometimes at the risk of their own health and financial well-being.

For example, a Sohu article (Chinese) describes how college-age women will spend hundreds of RMB on name brand makeup and beauty treatments, even to the point where they haven’t enough money leftover to eat. But they’d rather “invest” the money on their face — literally — because, as far as they’re concerned, appearances count.

This article in the Youth Daily makes a link between the “Housing Slave” (people whose mortgages take up 50% of their monthly income) phenomenon in China and mianzi consumption. They suggest that people get into such a precarious situation — having an unmanagable mortgage — simply because they choose to buy homes they can’t afford, all to live a lifestyle they believe is theirs.

Mianzi isn’t going away anytime soon — and neither will mianzi consumption. Especially when it comes to high-end, often foreign, products, such as BMWs, Louis Vuitton Bags, and top-shelf liquors. But there is a certain manipulation involved at times, one that perhaps nudges Chinese consumers into purchases that they would rather not make. Just as Chinese consumers have a responsibility to make smart shopping decisions, companies have a responsibility to sell their products without preying on a consumer’s emotional or cultural vulnerabilities (remember the sleazy car dealers?).

Come on…give roses a chance.

This contemptuous attitude towards businessmen no longer exists in current China. Making money is given priority now.

However, problems come up when this priority may be the only consideration for many businessmen in China. Media reports that forced laborers are widespread in Shanxi province, and many of the victims are children. One brand of toothpaste from China contains diethylene glycol that can poison people. Gluten sourced from China was tainted with melamine that killed dozens of cats and dogs in the US.

Many businessmen in China are not well-educated. They are motivated by a single clear goal — making money. They have no idea how their products and business behavior would influence the health and well-being of other people. Many of them are not conscious about business ethics and social responsibility.

In China, due to the overall education level, the general public has limited knowledge about certain products, such as tools that may use harmful chemicals or foods that contain unhealthy ingredients. Many detrimental effects of the products are cumulative and not immediately seen. So monitoring from the public sector to the business sector is not so strong.

The supervision from the government to businesses is also weak. The government officials are not so fervent about the interest of general public. They care about meeting the economic development benchmarks set by their superiors. Those bosses — scrupulous or not — will help them attain the goal. Bosses and local officials are on the same boat. It is very unlikely local officials will trouble the bosses.

The law in China is also under development, which means that many areas of business are not regulated. When the law is underdeveloped, unscrupulous businessmen usually can take advantage of the weaknesses in laws. Even when the law is well-developed, such as in the USA, there are still examples of corporate fraud like Enron.

A better solution is to voluntarily adopt and practice business ethics and moral standards.

When doing business in China, you should assume social responsibility and adopt moral standards, especially when dealing business with Chinese counterparts. Sometimes it may be the only strong oversight available. 8892347645324632_jj