Eric's Beijing Diary

It would not be inappropriate to regard analysis of Chinese culture by a foreigner, especially a foreigner who did not grow up in China, with a measure of reserve. Nevertheless, sometimes outside observation can enhance understanding, because outsiders point out to us things that we have assumed to be a part of nature, when, in fact, they are not. They are products of our culture. This is one benefit of studying Math. It helps us to appreciate the difference between that which is arbitrary and that which is absolute. For example, 2+2=4. But we can also express this using the binary number system: 10 = 10 = 100. In the binary number system, 10 does not mean "ten." It means one zero. One in the twos place, and 0 in the ones place. Add 10 plus 10 and you get 100 (one zero zero). One in the fours place, 0 in the twos place, and 0 in the ones place.

I don't want to get distracted--the point is that sometimes there are several ways to express the same reality. And several ways to process the same reality. The means of expression is arbitrary. So is the means of processing. But the reality (2+2=4) is most definitely not arbitrary. It does not change. When I ask students to tell me why we use a Base 10 number system when it is arbitrary, someone usually volunteers that we graviate toward a Base 10 number system because we have 10 fingers. Maybe so. Nobody knows. But whatever the case, if you have two apples, and you get two more, you will have four apples. That doesn't change. That is absolute.

Social science is not nearly as neat as natural science. But if we are patient, we can begin to develop an understanding of basic rules that tend to prevail regardless of how they may be expressed in different cultures. For example, Magaret Mead once said that no matter how many different living styles different people-groups attempt, the famliy always comes creeping back. Family is a universal element in culture. Cultures that nurture the family tend to be strong and resilient, while cultures that dispense with the family tend to fall apart.

As a Christian, and especially as a lover of the Bible, I believe that the Good Book can save us lots and lots of trouble in our attempt to build the kinds of social systems that will support a healthy, free society. The Bible is a time honored guide to what works and what does not work as far as society is concerned. So I tend to judge societies by the extent to which they follow the Biblical maxims regarding the right and honorable way to live.

Now, when I apply all this to China, I look for the values which distinguish this society, and then try to understand how these values hold China back, or help it to move forward.

Bertrand Russel used to say that philosphers are people who find things out by thinking rather than by observing. If we accept this, for the sake of argument, then there are considerable merits to a philosophical approach. But also some limitations. Merits, because I have often tired of reading lightly written stuff that is long on observation but desparately short on thinking. But I have also read analyses which seemed to have a good bit of thought behind it, but which was seriously flawed because it was obviously built on false assumptions--assumptions which would be blown away in an instant if the "philosopher" in question had made even the most casual effort to find out what was really going on. So I am an advocate of thinking. But I also believe in observation.

Let me, then, give my observation of one aspect of Chinese society that I have observed, begging forbearance and inviting criticism from those who may conclude (rightly or wrongly) that my foreigner's perspective is not mature enough to give a true picture of what China is like. This is armchair philosophy, now, so you can throw it out if you want to. But I do believe that my observation has merit, because I have, in fact, given considerable thought to the matter.
There are two kinds of people in China--the lucky and the unlucky. These two groups of people are separated by a "great gulf." They can see each other, but movement between the two groups is very limited. It is very, very hard for the unlucky to become part of the lucky. And the lucky, once lucky, do not seem to want to have anything to do with the unlucky. Perhaps it is because they deeply fear sliding back into the "unlucky" category. Picture a scene. This isn't done any more as far as I know, but it used to be quite common. Walking down the main road of a city, you would see a truck drive by, and in the back of that truck would be a group of prisoners. The prisoners have signs either pinned to them, hanging around their necks, or somehow fastened to the vehicle declaring them to be criminals in need of punishment. Struck by the pathos of the scene, a foreigner standing on the street asks a local person about the people who are standing in the back of the truck with the most desparate, hopeless expressions on their faces. "They were unlucky," is the casual, almost disinterested reply.

Unlucky?? What is this? No, I will never accept this. Either the people in the back of the truck are criminals who have done violence to their fellow citizens and are fully deserving of their impending doom, or they are hapless victims of a justice system which is far too arbitrary in its execution of punishment. You would be amazed how many times I hear this value expressed in this country. I was pickpocketed in Suzhou ("Oh, You were unlucky!"). Or my bicycle gets stolen. Again, "Unlucky!" I refuse to use this word. No, not unlucky. The reason my bicycle got stolen is because the penalty for theft less than 1000RMB is 15 days in the pokey. Not a nice experience, exactly, but a rest and three meals for a short time until one is released to begin again the crime that has brought so much tax free income.

Using a term like "Unlucky" is tempting, because it relieves us of the duty to do something about the problem. But it is flawed, because it tends to thwart development of genuine understanding. But the most important reason I dislike this term is because it tends to attach a mystical quality to this "unluckiness" that rather gives it all the character of a contagious disease. We avoid the "unlucky" because deep inside us is a fear that we might somehow become infected with their condition. So the lucky generally don't associate with the unlucky. There is one very notable exception. "Lucky" people will go to considerable lengths to reach back and give the "unlucky" person a helping hand if that person is a relative, especially a close family member. This sense of family duty is pervasive in Chinese society. Other family members do not benefit as much as parents, but they do benefit. Throughout the entire history of the "New China" since 1949, there have been very poor people who lived considerably above their means because of well-to-do relatives in the West. But this largess generally does not extend beyond family. China is still referred to as a developing country, and one of the areas where China most needs development is in the area of non-profit charity.

All of this helps to explain why it is often easier for a complete stranger to integrate into the local Chinese community than it is for someone who grew up in China. I have been in China three years, and I have never met a Chinese American who attends a local Chinese church. Somehow, they just can't deal with it. It isn't because they are too foreign. Rather, I think it is because, at least for those born in China, they are not quite foreign enough to feel secure in their status as one of the "lucky." Lucky enough, at least, to avoid sliding back into the mystical realm of the "unlucky." They are not entirely unlike me when I "returned" to America at the age of 13. I was actually born in Japan, but I was born to American parents, and I had lived in America for a few years in my earlier childhood. I went to first grade in America. But when I came back at the age of 13, I felt very much out of place. My situation is different from the Chinese Americans, of course, because most Chinese Americans are immigrants, or children of immigrants. They did not merely grow up in America, they grew up in America as Americans. Not so with me. I grew up in Japan as an American who would never be accepted in Japan as anything but a foreigner. Furthermore, America is a dominant culture. You would never, never see an American come to China, become a Chinese citizen, and then go back to America proudly flashing his Chinese passport. But I see it all the time. So there are very significant differences between me and the returnees I meet in China. But there is one very important similarity. It was much harder for me to adjust to America than it was for a new immigrant who had never been to America before. To at least that extent, I think I can identify with the returnees, who have many adavantages because of they language proficiency, but who react very sharply to some of the cultural peculiarities of this country that don't bother me that much.