The facial
recognition software makes going through immigration and passport control a
breeze, and the “nothing to declare” door opens smoothly without a single
ripple in the flow of people.
I’m on the
road in a taxi at 1 am, and I’m heading to a place at least an hour away in the
foothills, so pollution should be at a minimum. But, the cottony “fog” is smog,
and it has a vaguely plastic smell. It makes me wish I could time-travel and
visit Pittsburgh around 1950, when it was an industrial hub, and nowhere near
the “Best Place to Live!” award winner it is today. Industrialization, job growth, and job obsolescence have
high price tags. De-industrialization has its own high price tag, but that’s a
meditation for another day.
Smooth
sailing through the airport was not exactly what I was expecting in Beijing,
although I was prepared for neo-Industrial newness, and a reshaping of
identity, self-reconstituting in response to the push and pull of purchasing
publics on other sides of the globe.
I have been
conditioned to think of Chinese manufactured items as being nicely packaged and
high-tech. Now I see the best is dedicated to export; much of the cheaper,
poorer quality material stays in the country for domestic consumption. Makes
sense. After all, everyone will earn more in exporting things.
Walk, wait,
watch.
I don’t have
much to say at this point. It’s my first encounter with Beijing. I love the energy and then sense of
potential and promise. Yet, the question is, how far will the balloon actually
stretch? Are there limits to market growth? China seems to test all the
assumptions of sustainability.
I remember
when Happy Faces first came out. They were on everything, ranging from t-shirts
to stickers to notebooks. I loved them, and bought Happy Face stationery around
Christmas at Shepherd Mall in Oklahoma City. My dad would take us to a mall
where we would go shopping, and I remember the way the shining merchandise, the
music, the sense of the eternal “new” (and the sense that “out of fashion” was
constantly nipping and biting at one’s heels), all had an impact on my sense of
identity, and compelled me to think that I should always be in a state of
transition, of emerging, and in the best of all possible worlds, of self-shaping,
self-fashioning.
At times
I’ve liked to think of China’s economy as vampiric. That's a western view. Question: Can China actually live without the lifeblood of external markets?
At other
times, I’ve liked to think of China’s economy as the ideal (ironically) of the
Hamiltonian, Federalist model of economic governance; they protect themselves
with a wall of adroit protectionism, while counting on Most Favored Nation
status, etc. from trading partners. At the same time, I notice how well the
government invests in infrastructure, and also creates conditions for growth.
In addition, the government acts as a partner in corporate growth, and
encourages innovation and entrepreneurship. The government also encourages
outside investment, but limits the rights of the investors. It’s smart and it has worked. The only question is how long?
To give
Jefferson his due, I do think that local control and “states’ rights” can work,
and they can encourage innovation (along with a lot of quackery). Extreme
individualism is appealing, at least to those who rate high enough on the
social order to be considered a fully franchised individual (in America’s
South, that meant land-owning, male, citizen, “white,” etc.).
The view
from the Sinopec Center was impressive – it was on the edge of a mountain overlooking
Beijing. The view from the “Climbing Mountain” just behind it, through brass
gates, was even better. You could climb the 400 steps up to a little
weather-battered pagoda, and then follow a trail along the hogback, to another
set of small steps down the steep side of the mountain.
I found
going down harder than going up, but I think that’s something in my brain that
tends to see all inclinations as level after I’ve focused on them enough.
Clearly, the vision issue also applies to my overall take on life, and on
perception itself.
Do all brains work that way? Well, I digress.
Do all brains work that way? Well, I digress.
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