July 11, 2005

  • Frickin Laser Beams

    This article was lifted off the net, and is to me an accurate observation of the
    pressures that face many Chinese today.  It is interesting though,
    that the article is able to point to religion as one sociological force
    that can help balance the need for material wealth against moral and
    ethical considerations. I also have noticed however, that as many
    Chinese increase in wealth, more and more turn to religion as they
    realize that life is much more than material wealth.


    COLUMN ONE


    Driven to Be Made in China


    The young have things their parents only dreamed of. But there's a lot


    of hand-wringing. They want wealth, and they want it now.


    By Mark Magnier


    Times Staff Writer




    July 11, 2005




    BEIJING — Across Chinese society, signs of stress and restless energy


    are everywhere.




    Jiaolu, or anxiety, a new buzzword, produces nearly a million hits on


    Google China. A recent survey by the newspaper China Youth Daily found


    that 66% of young people considered themselves under heavy pressure


    and fewer than 1% felt stress-free.




    Youngsters have little time for anything but class and homework, and


    as jiaolu builds, teen suicide rates rise. "Dear parents, I can hardly


    express my gratitude for bringing me up," read a note left by Tian


    Tian, a 12-year-old girl in the northern province of Shanxi. "But I


    feel under such pressure. There is too much homework for me. I have no


    choice but to die."




    Late last year, the southern city of Shenzhen opened the mainland's


    first hotline for students feeling left behind, in a nation where


    parents often sit in on their children's intense college prep classes


    to urge them on. "Help for Underachievers Just a Phone Call Away,"


    blared a headline about the new service, first detailed in the


    Guangzhou Daily.




    When Shanghai-based Want Want Co. ran an ad recently with the tag line


    "If you eat this cracker, you'll get rich," demand for the snacks


    skyrocketed until government watchdogs pulled the plug. Their move


    followed complaints by consumers worried that turning down a Want Want


    might undercut their shot at wealth.




    Young urban Chinese enjoy a lifestyle their parents only dreamed of.


    Car and apartment ownership is at an all-time high, and conspicuous


    consumption is all the rage. Many people are earning huge sums through


    job skills that would have landed their parents in reeducation camps


    during the Cultural Revolution — such as a global mind-set, a command


    of foreign languages and an intuitive understanding of capitalism. The


    Communist Party's grip on their lives is weakening as Beijing


    increasingly supervises rather than controls the roaring economy,


    allowing those with talent to get ahead.




    So why is there so much angst?




    Experts say the very forces that provide unprecedented opportunity for


    young people in the new China are also delivering unprecedented


    stress, particularly though not exclusively in urban areas. Common


    among young Chinese is a feeling that they're living in a


    once-in-a-few-centuries era when dynasties topple and individual


    fortunes are made — and that they're missing out.




    "The whole society is impatient, especially the young people," said


    Zhou Xiaozheng, a professor of sociology at People's University in


    Beijing. "President Hu Jintao said recently we Chinese must be modest


    and cautious and avoid arrogance. Of course, that means we're none of


    these things."




    Though pressure to do well is evident almost everywhere in the world,


    experts say it's greater in China in part because people here think


    the nation has arrived late to the global economic party and needs to


    make up for lost time. Catching up economically with rich neighbors


    such as Japan and South Korea is seen as a way of "regaining" China's


    rightful place on the international stage.




    Insecurity among young professionals, often manifest in frenzied


    job-hopping, is fueled by media coverage of the super-rich, such as


    online-game mogul Chen Tianqiao, worth an estimated $1.05 billion at


    age 31. Or Huang Guangyu, founder of electronic retailer GoMe,

    estimated to be worth $1.3 billion at 35. Or thirtysomething Ding Lei


    of Internet portal NetEase, at $668 million.




    By most measures, Wang Sujun is doing well. The 32-year-old has a


    master's degree from Peking University, China's Harvard, and a


    prestigious job with Beijing Mobile, a major telecommunications


    company. He says he's happily married and in March welcomed the


    arrival of a healthy daughter, Zizuo. In a country where the average


    annual salary is less than $1,000, he's making more than 11 times that


    much.




    But Wang doesn't feel successful.




    "Life is so stressful, I feel enormous pressure on my shoulders all


    the time," he said, his words tumbling out in a series of rapid


    bursts. "If I could only do better somehow, I might become rich and


    happy."




    When he meets with his three best friends, they talk about what they


    need to be more successful. Wang wants more money, and he worries that


    his peers have better jobs, nicer apartments, fancier cars.




    "Each dog has its barking day," he said. "I keep asking, when is my


    day? I'm older and older. I know I should catch up. But I worry there


    isn't much time left."




    Three wrenching transitions are battering Chinese society, and experts


    say that any one would be enough to jolt people's mental equilibrium:


    The economic system is in the midst of a 180-degree turn from


    communism to a market system. Hundreds of millions of people are


    migrating to the cities from the countryside. And where stability and


    duty once reigned, risk-taking is now the order of the day.




    Most Chinese are far better off than they were before the government


    opened up the economy. Hundreds of millions have been lifted from


    poverty; they have more choice as consumers and greater opportunity


    for education. About 350 million people own cellphones and 95 million


    can access the Internet. But where once everyone suffered together,

    today they are watching the gap widen between the haves and the


    have-nots.




    "Many people our age are psychologically unbalanced," said Zhou Pei,


    48, a truck driver in Beijing. "What's so great about letting a few


    get rich while so many more are dragged into poverty? I really miss


    the Mao period when things were equal, and wish we could bring back


    the good old days."




    Sociologists have a name for this syndrome: relative deprivation.




    "This is especially true when it's personal — people see a neighbor


    get rich even though they used to be classmates and just the same,"


    said Wang Zhenyu, a sociologist with the Chinese Academy of Social


    Sciences in Beijing. "Chinese impatience is perhaps most pronounced


    when it comes to money."




    Aware of the potential for political instability, the current


    leadership of Hu and Premier Wen Jiabao has placed a priority on


    balanced economic development.




    It's easy to see what they're afraid of. Multibillionaire Bill Gates


    consistently ranks at the top of the list when schoolchildren are


    asked to name the person they most admire. Relatives used to burn fake


    money to mourn the dead and help them in the afterlife, but now they


    add modern status symbols to the pyre: mock credit cards, paper


    replicas of luxury cars and cardboard cellphones. Seductive images of


    wealth and status blanket the airwaves.




    Young people looking for some way to balance the materialism find


    little comfort from a society that defines success in dollar signs,


    with few nods to personal contentment, scholarship or ethical


    behavior. Religion, a counterweight in many other societies, is


    discouraged by a Communist Party wary of its potential to galvanize


    political opposition.




    China's get-rich-quick obsession has taken drastic forms. A


    15-year-old girl recently kidnapped one of her relatives and demanded

    a $25,000 ransom before she was caught. "She sought to earn the most


    money in the shortest time," explained the Eastern Morning Post.




    In a study of the sex industry in rural China, sociologist Zhou found


    similar dynamics. "A lot of young girls want to get rich so badly and


    want to make use of their beauty before it slips away. They consider


    working hard a waste of time and feel their looks are a waste if they


    don't take advantage of them immediately," he said. "People want to


    become fat in one bite."




    Added to the mix are the drive and energy that Chinese families have


    passed down through generations, a prodigious force that is easily


    seen in the prosperity of overseas Chinese communities around the


    world.




    Family experts say that drive to succeed is particularly strong in


    China now, as more parental frustration, wealth and expectations are


    channeled to the young. This is because many parents, sometimes


    referred to as the "tragic generation," had their most promising


    decade stolen when the Cultural Revolution threw society into chaos,


    shuttering schools and destroying careers.




    In many cases, China's one-child population policy has meant more


    money for young people. But these single offspring also have two


    parents and four grandparents focused like laser beams on their


    success, projecting collective insecurities, fears and hopes on them


    in an effort to live through the younger generation.




    "My mother says, 'If only I was born in this age, I could be someone,'


    " Wang Sujun said. " 'I could have even been a college teacher.


    Instead I was forced to be a common laborer.' "




    As such pressures bear down, many young people feel they have already


    failed at a tender age.




    "Where's my dream?" media planner Anan, 25, said on the Shenzhen News


    Net website, speaking on condition that her first name not be used.

    "Where are all the expectations I had just two years ago? I don't know


    how to go on with my life."