San Francisco: A Trashy Place

"A San Francisco Recreation and Park gardener's expletive-filled rant about the trash problem at Dolores Park was pulled from Facebook, but not before the SFist captured a screen grab," the San Francisco Chronicle reports. (Check out the video report as well.)

This city employee's rant does not bother me, and I certainly hope he is not reprimanded or fired for expressing his point of view.

I propose Rec & Park stop cleaning these places. If people insist on behaving like juveniles and littering everywhere, then they should suffer the consequences. San Franciscans can wake up and take some responsibility for their own city's environment, instead of acting like entitled brats who throw things everywhere and expect to have a maid pick up for them.

True, it's a collective action problem. "I'm not littering," you might whine. "Without taxpayer-funded cleaning the park is still ruined for me!" I still say let everyone fester in the garbage. Maybe you should apply a little social pressure and express opprobrium at the people who do litter and ruin it for everyone else.

Otherwise, letting Rec & Park clean up after parties is a moral hazard. Who will care if someone else always cleans up the mess?

The famed Taiwanese writer Lung Ying-tai 龍應台 wrote an essay entitled "中國人,你為什麼不生氣?" (We might loosely paraphrase it as: "Yo people, why the hell aren't you angry about a-holes who pollute and throw garbage everywhere? Shape up yourselves, and get pissed off at transgressors.")

Why is this a conversation we still need to have in the most liberal city in America, home to a crunchy granola environmental movement, with one of the highest per capita rates of electric car adoption? There seems to be a big disconnect between environmental responsibility to the planet and still letting people trash our own backyard. 舊金山市民，你為什麼不生氣?

The American Saga Continues

Precisely when all the talk about this year's Academy Awards has focused on Hollywood's lack of diversity (#OscarsSoWhite) and less-than-equitable treatment of minorities, out come the racial jokes targeting Asians. During the Oscars' ceremony, host Chris Rock lampooned three children of Asian/Asian American heritage as "accountants," and then tossed in a child labor quip while he was at it.

PRI interviewed one of the children, Estie Kung, and her family, and it's a pretty gut-wrenching read:

What it's like to be the butt of the joke. One of the kids at the Oscars speaks out. www.pri.org/stories/2016-03-02/what-its-be-butt-joke-one-kids-oscars-speaks-out

You know why this happens? Because we are the silent "model minority." Because we take it, and our parents remind us, "Don't make waves, don't make trouble!" They just got off the boat and don't want to provoke rage or greater opposition than they already face, every moment they live their lives in the American public sphere -- in the grocery store, at the airport, in the workplace.

Where's the solidarity? "I'm beat up by the white kids, so let's attack the even more hapless Asian kid?" (They are literally KIDS here. What gives?) This behavior shows a reprehensible lack of humanity and responsibility. It's also extremely immature.

While I'm always down for critiquing East and Southeast Asian countries, this is done through the lens of "We can do better." or "This isn't a society I believe in." (There's also more than a little pointed criticism of America built into a lot of these neo-liberalism-run-amok commentaries.) But to simply pick on someone because they're meeker than you, because you know they won't resist? That's called BULLYING.

At the end of the day, somehow in America, it's okay to poke fun at Asians. Because "positive" stereotypes (which are really backhanded-compliments) are seen as less offensive. Because we never fight back. Because we just silently take it -- even as we are building the country. See: Chinese Railroad Workers in North America

This is why we move into ethnic enclaves that have more delicious food. (In some cases, these places also have higher average incomes and less crime than the average American town. I qualify this statement because I'm trying to avoid falling into using the "model minority" trope, but my point is that Asian Americans can "make it" when they take matters into their own hands.)

I want us to stand up and fight, to push back on this kind of disgusting and pernicious discrimination -- but not on White Americans' terms or African American's terms. Let's resist, without turning into mainstream doltish America. We can do better.

We've always survived, and we're going to keep going. However, the way to truly fight back is not to become whiter (please avoid whitewashing ... don't do that to yourself!), but to be vocal and proud about being Asian. It means flourishing and growing, while maintaining cultural fluency in both worlds. It means making it in America, but on our own terms -- holding on to a sense of ethics, identity, and values, while helping to define anew what this diverse society is all about. It means owning and celebrating who we are; it means being who we want to be.

Don't give in. Don't give up.



Coda:

Who are the people here? (Source: PRI)

The juxtaposition here is strangely bittersweet. I see two amazing kids looking up in wonder at C-3P0 and R2-D2, a pair of esteemed pop culture icons from our childhood. Yet some part of America only sees blank-faced "all the same" stereotypes across the board, which enables them to make tasteless jokes -- and not even recognize how it's wrong. Apparently we're not people, only faceless droids.

In spite of all this, at least one thing does give me hope:

Estie [the Asian child actor], though, is taking it all in stride. She isn't familiar with Rock's comedy ("I've never seen 'Madagascar,'" she says) and she didn't initially understand the child labor joke until her mother explained it to her. (She thought Rock was saying that they designed the phones.)

Aside from the hilarious-yet-unintentional dig at Rock's appearance in a kid's cartoon, Estie's wondrously innocent response speaks volumes. It shows that:

(1) Young people aren't naturally bigoted. It's learned from flawed models of human beings, i.e. adults.

(2) Not just those three, but their whole generation will grow up in a globalized, multicultural world, where Asians and Asian Americans are not only tech savvy, but also media and business savvy. They won't just be the IT guys anymore.

So yes, not only will they design your phone -- they may also manage the robotic facility that manufactures it, own the company that sells it to you, and probably be your next-door neighbor too. They may even represent you on the city council.

In any case, instead of pumping up one particular ethnicity in a misguided and meaningless arms race, it's more important that we preserve that child-like sense of equality and openness. Let's aim for a world where anyone is empowered to make a contribution to society and isn't hindered or pigeon-holed by their ethnic background.

Welcome to the 21st century!

Overture for the 丙申 Year (Gregorian 2016)

A sudden fissuring:

the boulder splits open and issues Fortune,

quivering with excitement for the new year:

unbridled and unbound!

Hear the snap and hum of firecrackers,
staccato notes piercing the night,

crackling like crusty bread that

sheds fat, crisp crumbs on the table.

An overturned vase unleashes

a current of loose pebbles,

smooth and round,

streaming across the tiled floor.

Bass rumblings heave long and low,

strafed by the sharp retort of rifles

blazing on the firing range,

echoing in vast stone canyons.

General bombardment commences:

the celestial power hailed by

earthly subjects jolts the city.

Volley after volley, shattering cadences

usher in the first tuning of the lunar calendar.

Engines thunder, sirens wail, seasons are rewound.

Once more, the moon clock is set into motion.

Hollering and drumming, exploding and shouting,

it is the fanfare for the Year of the Monkey,

who leaps happily from trunk to branch, rooftop to cloud.

His time is now upon us!

Taoist gunslingers trade shots and greetings:

warding off demons, calling in prosperity.

Armed with divine trigrams and spiritual ordnance,

they dispel ill luck as they float on the aural tide.

Black powder, grey smoke, galloping ferghana flames,

all corners awash in noise and joyful exhalations.

The waves of sound carry
calligraphic notes and crimson envelopes,

bearers and recipients both youthful and old,

fresh-faced and wrinkled, wide-eyed and wise,

exchanging bright wishes and long embraces,

re-knotting family ties.

Heaven Above smiles

as percussive cheers resound

in streets painted ruby, rouge, and fiery vermilion.

We'll be burning paper money tomorrow
—hailing spirits, recollecting ancestors—

and lighting incense to underwrite

Another Auspicious Year.

Luck and pyrotechnics blaze

in iron cauldrons set alight, 

the air fills with
the sizzle of frying sesame oil,

the blasts of happy cannons,

the lively roar of balletic dragons chasing their own tails,

everywhere to sound benevolence,

everywhere to draw in life,

everywhere to birth this pearlescent new year,

the music of jubilant celebration punctuates the night.

Write Map Illumine Draw

“I don’t do poetry."

My heart sinks—full stop, before sputtering to life again. “It doesn’t matter," I say. "We can still make beautiful maps together."

Our poetry will be found in continents and cities,

and the spaces that exist between them.

Our metaphors are the lines, colors, contours that make up

geographical stanzas stamped onto the surface of the Earth,

that floating blue marble, planetary marvel,

where our species exists unlike anyplace else.

We will make ourselves fluent in

the language of navigators and map-makers,

speak in chloropleth dialects

and cartographic accents,

Robinson—not Mercator!

Cylindrical or Winkel tripel?

We’ll learn to run through high latitudes,

draw circular lines, chart raw aptitude.

Mark out the meridian: “Le Meridien”

the meeting place for lovers,

as we paint the geospatial reality of

Life-on-Earth:

plots, projections, parallels,

lyrics, lore, laws, and land use,

newfound stories, ancient songs,

dynamics, demography (destiny?)

When we draw out an elegant curve,

or make sense of jumbled pieces;

when we assemble our own jigsaw puzzle

from fragmented clues strung around the globe in

24 separate time zones;

when we count capitals of countries bounded by

snaking frontiers and jagged partitions;

when we see environmental furies and human agglomerations

cross all conventional borders, transgress artificial, man-made dimensions;

when we apprehend that

degrees-minutes-seconds mean distance,

as well as time;

when we inscribe the world with meaning—

then paper becomes cartography,

our orthography,

choreography

You’ll speak to me the way I speak to you—

dancing across the pages of an atlas,

tossing the starlight quill into the wind,

pouring cool, blue ink into the glass-flowing river, 

tracing the distance from Seattle to San Francisco to Skopje to Shanghai

and end up home.

On the shores of a floating island, que ilha tao formosa,

verdant beauty encircles me, my embrace the sky that envelopes you. 

The view when suspended 10,000 feet up

It might not be 100% intentional, but why does service on trans-Atlantic flights—from airport check-in, to boarding, to meal service—seem smoother, higher in quality, more designed to satisfy, compared to flights across the Pacific? I've grown so used to the circus of getting from SFO to Shanghai or Beijing that this flight to Paris is shockingly ... calm.

What lies at the root of this contrast? Do different classes of the flying public exhibit different characteristics? Do we assume customers from some demographics will put up with more strain, will have fewer expectations, or are generally less experienced with international travel?

Do service employees adopt a more implicitly hostile attitude—harsher voice, more impatience, a guarded wariness—toward "foreign" or "alien" peoples, compared with those they assume are "civilized"?

Is it all simply business savvy? Is it fair?

There seem to be some deep racial dynamics here that I don't totally understand. What I can say is that in our increasingly globalized world, the frictions and conflicts, the micro-aggressions and outright discrimination—whether ill-intentioned or simply mis-informed—are all going to come to the fore. Yet in parallel, many more moments of mutual understanding, successful non-verbal communication, and a growing sense of human solidarity will also mark our collective experience.

Probing and unpacking these stories requires introspection on the part of many different actors—the airlines, the service employees, the passengers; the advocates, the by-standers, the ruler-makers; even the observers and commentators on these affairs. This exercise requires a non-judgmental attitude. In racially-tense situations, resolution can only be found when deft handling and cultural competency are coupled with a willingness to not shy away from the truth of sensitive questions. It will most of all require empathy.

Luckily, empathy, and all the attendant processes, can be learned, practiced, improved, and eventually habituated. It will be a lifelong project for this generation, and the next, to figure out how to live, coexist, and thrive in this shifting planetary landscape. There will be increasing moments of alienation and strangeness, but also greater recognition and familiarity. These processes will be shaped by technological leaps, environmental disruption, and most of all, human awakening.

Sometimes, it takes a moment of contrast to shake a person awake to the interesting character of our times. What a brave new world we truly live in! Despite the years I've spent on this planet so far, I guess I just hadn't quite realized it yet.

通用奶茶 We all scream for ice cream!

I wonder if calling it 通用話 or 通用語言 might capture the spirit of the enterprise a little more, and sidestep some of the political friction from nationalist 國語 or classist 普通話 choices. (Great for constructing societies, maybe not so hot in the modern era where we lack consensus on "the nation" or disagree on promoting class conflict as a mode of revolutionary change. ‪#‎politics‬)

Of course, people who use the words 國語 or 普通話 might not see these particular connotations, because the usage of the phrases is so common/widespread 普遍 in their own societies. But upon closer inspection, the current choice of what we call our language does raise an eyebrow.

If we care about 正名 (or the "rectification of names"), then in terms of defining a mission of language and urging its acceptance among populations who do not currently speak it, we should focus on its applicability, utility, and ability to serve as a means of communication—not on its nation-building 建國 character.

We may also prefer using the name of our language to elevate discourse, not as a tool for fighting class battles. "Common," as in "common tongue" in English, has a uniting character, i.e. what we have "in common" with each other. It contrasts with 普通 "common; ordinary; plain; average" which could be interpreted as emphasizing an elite-commoner divide, and in regular usage feels "pedestrian."

華語 is okay too, but it gets into the whole ethnic question of "Who is 華?" Although maybe that's a good thing, because then only 華 people should have to use Mandarin, and you don't get to impose it on other non-華 groups.

So in terms of identifying the purpose of language, while keeping it politically neutral and viable, 通用 seems to deliver the message in a way that more Sinophone communities could swallow. It also doesn't preclude foreigners and/or minorities from learning the language, because it doesn't force any particular appellation or uncomfortable surrender of identity on them if they choose to pick up this dialect.

There doesn't appear to be any ongoing debate about these monikers, but this particular line of thought was sparked while reading about the history of the "construction" of the national language—a language that, at this juncture, is not only for the nation.

Tiger Troll

Amy Chua is bringing her type of programming to Singapore. She's well-spoken and articulate in this interview, but I can't tell if she's massively trolling when she says these things

AFP | Getty Images via CNBC

I disagree with Amy Chua and with Tiger Parenting in general—supremely grateful that my parents weren't like that—but I have to compliment her on her writing style and wry tone. The behavior she describes in her book is pretty appalling, but it also made me chuckle. 

At the end of the day, the behavior and incentives it frames are antithetical to what I believe in, in terms of the kind of lives we live. For example, from my perspective, you should do something because you care about it, not because your parents make you do it. Otherwise it seems to demonstrate a lack of autonomy and self-direction.

On the other side of the coin, I'm not moved by the coddle-your-kids self-esteem-boosting approach practiced by a number of Americans, which verges on caricature. There's something to be said for a decisive, no-nonsense attitude, because kids *are* resilient and can handle it. That doesn't mean it should descend into paternalist, authoritarian, militant abuse. (Tiger Mom-ing is really a converse to helicopter parenting, which seems very New Age ... one leaves children unable to cope because too much is done for them, whereas the other leaves children unable to think because too much is constrained for them.) She seems too smart to fall for this parenting trap, which is why I think it's got to be, on some level, trolling. (Or to put it in a more high-brow way, a rhetorical exercise. Is this for profit? For making a reputation? For provoking American society so it shakes off its stupor and gets moving?)

It does speak to the anxiety of immigrants, and also the sense of cultural disconnect, which is where a good deal of the humor comes from too. Something like this:

 

which in my mind is still the classic video on Asian parenting.

In both "The Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother" and in this YouTube video, there is recognition, as well as an almost perverse sense of pride regarding the differences in cultural values. Perhaps it is only in retrospect, as survivors viewing the situation through the lens of parodic humor that we can gain the distance to laugh.

Then again, the job of children is to accommodate, resist, and negotiate cultural norms of both Old World and New. Thus, the conversation raised is an important one. It is a little odd that she feels the need to bring this mentality to Singapore, because they're already doing a great job at paternalism, but I suppose they're also in the midst of their Anglicizing-Modernizing moment when parents educated in Chinese schools are raising kids raised with English as their native language. It's a nation of immigrants and children of immigrants without the immigrating!

It's alway redux

From the NY Times:

"China Fences In Its Nomads, and an Ancient Life Withers" (article)

These programs are reminiscent of the criminal acts where the United States government forced Native Americans off their ancestral lands onto reservations, often with false promises and broken treaties, most likely at the point of a gun.

I will be explicit, because certain readers from certain countries don't get it and assume that past crimes commited by my country somehow exonerates careless people who commit similar crimes a century and a half later. So I apologize if this cultural reference is glaringly obvious to students of American history, or basically any student of how we have treated indigenous communities, but hey, some societies haven't had to face up to this issue yet, so let's be clear: just because the Americans did this in the 1800s does not make it right. It was wrong then, and what the Chinese government is doing to rural nomads now is likewise extremely problematic.

Resettlement through force, coercion, or deception is wrong. Fully-informed consent is key. "Fully-informed" means that people understand the long-term impacts on their lives, livelihoods and communities, and "consent" means they have the choice to say yes or no, free from the threat of violence or other state-enforced repercussions.

In addition to pirating "ecological science" to back up what is in actuality a program of social control with the false veneer of "development", there are other substantial problems.

The Chinese government doesn't have a good record on resettlement, whether it's urban or rural. At this time, every program in this mould should be treated with the skepticism it deserves.

The speed of resettlement is not a virtue. Take it slow so people can adjust and so you can fix the f-ck ups that inevitably happen with large-scale transformation of human societies. What you're trying to do in a single-generation is uproot an entire way of living that has developed over centuries. On balance, which mode do you think has the weight of evidence on its side?

The fact that sub-standard housing and evaporating benefits await these people speaks to the lack of commitment to actual social outcomes. Resettling people is not a short-term task to be completed, and the people forgotten. If you care about "development" you must recognize that it is a long-term process and you should actually monitor communities to ensure their success.

Meanwhile, save the "development" rhetoric. You do not get to decide on behalf of others what "development" looks like. It is extremely paternalistic, and the fact that participation is virtually nil means that priorities are decided without the communities who are most impacted and have the most stake in the outcome. This is development that happens "to" people. It is not engendered from within the community, quisling collaborators notwithstanding. It is a shockingly imperial mindset.

Overall, this type of program smacks of judgement about "lesser" races and dismissiveness about others' lifestyle choices. Who are you to judge if they are fundamentally "developed" or not? Whether the needs of communities and individuals has been met? Talk to them if you care about them; otherwise admit that their human welfare is not the primary purpose of this venture.

It also shows a profound lack of creativity -- "let's shove them into buildings" -- instead of deploying the range of possible technologies that can keep people who wish to be there on their lands, living different lifestyles, with access to modern medicine and education, while giving them the agency and wherewithal to keep unique traditions and practices still alive.

Ignorance is not an excuse. To ignore history, ignore domestic academics, ignore outside voices, and to pointedly ignore the very people who you claim to be "helping" requires immense mental acrobatics to maintain such a solipsistic silo. Couldn't some of that energy put into deflecting criticism, skimming off funds, and suppressing dissent be put into listening?

Hope Less

A Vox piece lays bare the growing futility, bordering on human impossibility, of restraining warming to 2°C. Physically it still might be doable, but would require a greater-than-Herculean effort to shift the political-economic-and-technological dimensions of society at massive scale. It's a pretty horrifying read, but deep in our hearts, we knew this was probably the case.

"If only we would take concerted action!" "If we would act with a greater sense of urgency!" These are the lines mouthed by climate activists, environmental leaders, and millennial climate hopefuls, repeatedly deployed on an apathetic public and a static government.

As the article posits, the essential goal of containing warming to 2°C hasn't really changed for quite a while. For example, since the IntroSem on "Climate Change: Drivers, Impacts, Solutions" with Chris Field back in 2004. Was the goal of 2°C too shrill of a cry back then? I don't think so. The threat of climate change wasn't overstated. Indeed, every passing year has revealed more and more research that ought to jolt us into action. However, more than a decade later, we may be in rather worse shape, in terms of the "business as usual" curve.

Perhaps the future holds more promise with better technologies. Alternatively, it's possible we are simply hosed if 2°C is still the line we're trying to hold.

That's why the international conversation has moved on to adaptation (and maybe even reparations), instead of purely focusing on mitigation any longer. Sorry, folks! That's actually where the article doesn't quite get it right: there's been a quiet admission of realism, as adaptation takes a larger and larger role in the climate change negotiations.

Fight for Utopia

Even in imagining the future, there are retrograde forces attempting to limit the participation of diverse communities. They aim to narrow our vision and suppress our collective dreams.

This should not stand. Exclusionary individuals have become the forces of tyranny that science fiction would have us question and rebel against. They might cloak themselves in the language of freedom ("Stop the PC police" "Take back the genre from the left!") but in reality use fear, intimidation, and hatred to achieve their intolerant aims. It is essentially a human story old and new.

As Kameron Hurley notes in a piece in The Atlantic, science fiction and fantasy have "grown dramatically, and last year, work by women and people of color from a diverse range of publishers swept the Nebula Awards in addition to the Hugos." As a response to this evolving cultural phenomenon, "why are so many fringe groups escalating their protests in gaming, in comics, and in the science-fiction community? ... it’s no coincidence that many of the people block voting these awards are the same ones sending death threats to women and people of color, sending SWAT teams to the addresses of critics, and hijacking accounts and identities to try and silence those creating more inclusive stories."

"It's only science-fiction," some members of the public might cry. "What's the big deal?" Hurley challenges the reader to ask: "Why should it matter that there was a block vote led in large part by a group whose most vociferous leader wants to disenfranchise entire groups of people?"

"The truth is that our wars of words and narrative matter, especially those that tell us what sorts of possible futures we can build—and groups like Gamergate,  Sad Puppies, and Rabid Puppies understand this. The author Ursula K. Le Guin said it best in her National Book Award acceptance speech:

'We live in capitalism. Its power seems inescapable. So did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be resisted and changed by human beings. Resistance and change often begin in art, and very often in our art—the art of words.'

In culture today, "much of the stuff you see in film, television, comics, and and children’s cartoons got its start inside the inspired, disruptive halls of science-fiction and fantasy literature." Thus, the literary (and extra-literary) clashes in science fiction are actually a fight for reality, a fight for our society's future.

信仰 What Binds Us

There is something about belief.
There is something about piety.

There is something about reverence.

There is something about faith.

I recently began reading "The Book of Chinese Beliefs," a tome that focuses not on classical philosophy, but on everyday beliefs—and the resultant customs and rituals—of Sinic communities in Hong Kong, Singapore, Taiwan, and China itself. To describe these phenomena requires more than simply demarcating norms and detailing cultural quirks, as any commercial guide to "Get along in China!" might do. Such a task involves more deeply exploring the world view that lies underneath these features.

As I walked outside the apartment and glanced at the backdrop of buildings, I realized I might really like Hong Kong. The air there is thicker with belief: 神仙—spirits, fairies, and deities—swirl through the sky, making their presence known in daily life. The atmosphere of the city is suffused with the round clouds of Chinese folktales.

There is a greater sense of a common cultural identity, manifesting itself in millions of small interactions on the street each day. Despite Hong Kong's built modernity, people are also religiously observant, geomantically oriented, pious in a way. They believe.

Perhaps this is why I feel distant in Mainland China. If all we care about are material goods and commerce, then life would feel somewhat empty and hollow. I would feel that these are not my people, but simply a group of human beings with whom I am currently in contact. Hong Kong, in contrast, feels more authentically Chinese. Despite the Western trappings, there are still bolts and bloodlines of Chinese piety.

What makes a people? What connects us is a common cosmology. If we do not have the same beliefs—whether it is Confucian thought or Chinese mythology—then what binds us together? We have nothing tying us except a fleeting similarity in language (recall that Mandarin is a constructed language from the 1900s) and perhaps a measure of ancestral DNA. However, shared ancestry matters not only because of blood and bone, but because we jointly worship and revere the ancestral dead—and we jointly celebrate our lineage, and all the responsibilities this entails. Material conditions are not enough to make a people. At the end of the day, it is belief.

While the Norse gods have disappeared and Egyptian deities evaporated from the world, the Chinese pantheon today is still alive and well. One finds meaning, solace, and community there. It does not mean we all get along, or that we are all friends; but it does mean we operate from the same code. (Some call this belief system Chinese folk religion. Perhaps it is not quite the same as the transcendent "world religions" that have the power to cut across societal lines—across nation and race—but that is a discussion for another time. Still, in order to find religion, we must first have religiosity: a belief in higher powers, a belief in the unknown.)

As described in The Book of Chinese Beliefs, one expert geomancer (feng shui practitioner) decried that he did not have any disciples because no young people wished to learn this art, which had been taught by master-to-disciple for generations. His own father had studied in a famous 風水 school in China from a highly-regarded woman philosopher. The arrest of culture is tragic, and this passage conjured in my mind an even greater tragedy: when wholesale culture destruction and discontinuity was visited upon the country by the Cultural Revolution. One kills Chinese culture and Chinese identity by stopping the transmission of belief.

One sees value in old ways, then, if authenticity and belief are important parts of identity. For those who believe, if the Imperial household is indeed a bridge to Heaven (and/or the Spirit World), it is not only worthy of allegiance, but of our devotion. It is not simply an act of loyalty and patriotism to defend and follow the Emperor; it is an act of reverence.

Today, there may not be an Emperor in China, but encounters with deities and the principles of feng shui still hold currency among Sinic populations in many places: Hong Kong, Taiwan, San Francisco, Canada. It is this cosmology that undergirds these places and that holds generations together. It is the everyday practices of family; the social logic, habits and principles; and also the sense, the act, the affirmation of believing.

Is neo-analog the new neo-classical?

My friend posted the following article, which notes that 30% of photographers using actual film are younger than 35. He included the interesting proposition that our generation, and those that come after, might be able to revive newspaper and book sales with our nostalgia-trending dollars.

I whole-heartedly support this concept, and can even see a glimmer of a future where this comes to pass, not just because of 懷舊, but because these media offer a distinct and valuable experience that grounds what we encounter every day.

The goal of young people is not to stop progress and revert back to older, inefficient ways of doing things. We are, after all, not Luddites. At the same time, we are not so enamored with digital, nor as impressed by it as our elders might be. Folks our age rarely go "Wow!" when looking at a web offering. More often, the response is, "That's a great use of this tool. I knew someone would be capable of pulling it together—how awesome!"

Growing up digital, having things available online is run-of-the-mill. (Yawn!) We have expectations for computing services, and at the end of the day, they are simply the basic implements we believe ought be there. Air, check. Water, check. Wi-fi, check. In contrast, print is nostalgic, charming, and most significantly, tangible.

Cameras, wood instruments, printed books; we are reconstituting interactivity by re-acquiring the tools of creation, or by finding new means of consumption, paired with imagination. It offers an interactive experience (as digital does), but also serves a method of reconnecting with the physical world.

It is not simply the novelty of surrounding oneself with old objects—though there is pleasure in that too—but we are not hoarders of antiques. Objects do not qualify simply due to their age, if they are inutile. They must be tools of creation, or agents and products actively linked to a process that is ongoing today—something living, generative, still alive.

Why could this movement succeed? It's about pleasure, not work. We don't expect of the analog the same things we ask for in our workaday computer tools. Instead, books and newspapers recall another kind of culture, representing different times, ethos, and experiences. They are a welcome and enjoyable respite, as we otherwise stream through lives defined by 0101010.


What makes analog work?

• interactive, not passive, experience
• physical element
• taps into imagination/creativity: tools of creation (or at least the product of such)

Two other questions I'm pondering

It's not a wholesale return to older forms. We do want old things, but we want old things that work better than old things. Moreover, I'll wager that we want old things that seem old, but that still fit into a digital ecosystem. Real Instagram cameras. Better fixie bikes. Instantly updating print newspapers. Cue steampunk.

My only question is if we odd hybrid children—of the 1980s, 1990s, 2000s—are filling a unique gap. Will children born completely in the digital age have the same desire to navigate back to the past? Or is it only because our generation is a bridge, having had analog toys in childhood and only acquiring tablets and smartphones in our adolescence. Perhaps new 21st century children still will seek out the analog, if the experience is at all like being released into nature after being cooped up in a city all one's life: it's deeply resonant because it serves a human need.

Disrupt away, oh Silicon Friends!

"Rah-rah Stanford, it's so great! F-ck Cal, their protestors are full of hate! We love tech, it's just so awesome—let's build more apps, that's the way to innovate!"

A group of protestors rushed into the auditorium where tech investor Peter Thiel was speaking as the event neared the Q&A portion of the night. In an unfortunate bit of reporting by The Daily Cal, where the reporter didn't quote any of the protestors, we have a succession of three Berkeley students decrying the intrusion (emphasis added):

“We honestly didn’t think the protests would interfere,” said Pierre Bourbonnais, president of the Berkeley Forum and former marketing manager at The Daily Californian. “It’s pretty unimaginable and unfortunate. I’m in support of free speech, but this is not the right venue for that. I’m very disappointed.”

“I can’t believe that (the protesters) thought that this was a politically acceptable way (to protest),” said Jacob Bergquist, a UC Berkeley freshman. “It made me very angry, because some of the people (in the audience) came because they’re just trying to make an impact on the the world.”

... “we feel that it was inappropriate for them to come in and disrupt an event,” said Jonathan Lin, a UC Berkeley junior. “It was disrespectful for them to disrupt Mr. Thiel."

First of all, some caveats: I don't necessarily have a strong opinion on Peter Thiel or his political views. He actually comes from an earlier generation of tech entrepreneurs, though he is now an investor in the current startup scene. The protestors appear to have taken advantage of the visibility of the event to put a spotlight on Ferguson and the treatment of African Americans by police, though there were reportedly also shouts of "No NSA, no police state," perhaps a reference to his role in founding Palantir. However, in this particular situation, the protests—and more tellingly, the student reactions—provide a commentary about "the tech sector" more broadly. In this standoff, Thiel serves as a totem of the the warped shape things have taken in Silicon Valley in recent years.

According to one UC Berkeley student in the audience, “It was disrespectful for them to disrupt Mr. Thiel." Is it disrespectful because we worship him? Maybe it's disrespectful for Silicon Valley brogrammers to disrupt people's neighborhoods, livelihoods, and lives. It was very disappointing to see the lack of support in the UC Berkeley crowd to the moment—and an insensitivity to the "people-matter" zeitgeist of recent months (also here). This is UC Berkeley we're talking about, the home of the Free Speech Movement, for cryin' out loud! Protest, public debate, cracking open tough issues to force public discourse—that's a central part of the campus identity. Instead, we see a crowd of UC kids lapping at the feet of technologists, insisting that social activists be thrown out.

In this particular situation, it appears that a good number of Berkeley folks have become part of the unfeeling tech crowd, or aspire to join the ranks of the "entrepreneurs." The sentiment seems to be something akin to, "Let's run the poor people out of town. They should just 'train themselves' to work in the new economy after all ... and who the hell are these rioters complaining about 'systemic' issues? They should just pull themselves up by the bootstraps and get out of the way, they're blocking my tech bus." These sycophantic Berkeley kids are metaphorically sucking Stanford's **** [I suppose I could rephrase that using the more PC "lapping at Stanford's bowl."]

How disturbing! I wish they were proud of who they are, because we need alternatives: other modes of development, different definitions of achievement. Don’t all come worship at the altar of tech. The world deserves better. You are better.

After all, this is the Berkeley where last night, two architecture and engineering students were talking to me about the Global Poverty & Practice minor, which requires students to go out into the world and work with NGOs in the field to gain practical experience with poverty alleviation and development. Do you know how amazing that is?

(By the way, I’m not against Stanford—I teach there, and I have great love and appreciation for this institution that is my home. It’s just that in some respects, the university is not living up to its ideals—its own professed values, the dream of this place.)

As for the following freshman—I'm sure he'll proud of that quote in 4 years: “I can’t believe that (the protesters) thought that this was a politically acceptable way (to protest) ... It made me very angry, because some of the people (in the audience) came because they’re just trying to make an impact on the the world." And clearly none of the protestors care about making an impact on the world, they are just no-good anarchists who need to mind their own business? Or are you just annoyed they don't believe in the same vision for the world? Perhaps we just gotta let the brogrammers get to work innovatin' and changin' the world.

The lack of appreciation for Cal's spirit of protest, rebellion and refusal to politely stand by while authorities crack down or systematically oppress minorities, vulnerable populations, and the weak and outcast ... THAT is far more offensive.

Perhaps these students come from households where they didn't talk about politics, and are going to Berkeley to be computer engineers. But the good thing is that by being in that ferment, they'll learn and pick up a thing or two about social justice. My own sensitization to issues of social justice was greatly heightened when I began visiting Berkeley semi-regularly in 2013. The folks there helped to sharpen my awareness of these issues and how they can be part of our everyday lives, in how we speak and interact, not just something that happens at the ballot box.

I used to be so proud of Stanford and Silicon Valley—that unlike Wall Street, we could innovate, put creativity and people first; that we could care about society and still succeed in the world. But now, we have occupied the role that Wall Street formerly did in the public imagination—a rancidly disappointing outcome. With the uncaring brogrammers, the oblivious techies, the misogyny, the self-arrogating privilege that comes with wealth but without social responsibility ... it’s really sad, because we were supposed to be better.

As for the "Berkeley" students: you're barking up the wrong‪ #‎tree‬. I didn't think I'd see the day when you were on your knees in front of Palm Drive. You can't respect yourself enough to realize that you are inheritors of a unique and proud tradition. On the eve of the Free Speech Movement's fiftieth anniversary, you've bought into something else entirely.

Don't. Please awaken to the spirit of your home. We need you.

Oldies but goodies

Though we live in an age of iPhones and iPads, from time to time, I still think about the music devices from our youth: CD players. This was how we carried songs in our pocket, after the Walkman started to fade from the scene.

It's not about nostalgia. This device generates very different sensations. There's something very solid and immediate about having your music on a CD. Though services like Pandora or Spotify promise limitless access, perhaps you don't really need "the whole world of music" at your fingertips. Even if it's somewhat winnowed down with dedicated music devices like the iPod, which has limited storage, there are still too many choices and endless scrolling.

With the CD, you choose an album and settle down to comfortably listen to it. I like the sensation of pushing "forward" or "reverse" on a player; it feels more real, more responsive. There are a set number of tracks, either as part of an artist's selection, or one that you have assembled yourself with a CD mix. Like a book, listening to the CD is a complete experience: it has a finite beginning and an end.

I listened to the new Taylor Swift album 1989 on my CD player, during a BART ride yesterday. It was satisfying. At risk of seeming old school, I think I might walk around with this as my music player for the foreseeable future. 

Everyone Else is Doing It

The New Republic is an amazing publication, and its gutting seems to be a tragedy. It didn't really have the same updated web presence that The Atlantic, The Wire (RIP), plus some of the new media outlets (Vox, 538) did, so perhaps it was in need of a bit of a digital boost. (Anecdotally, The TNR's voice was absent from my social media, factoring in a lot less on my Facebook feed than the above publications, or even traditional outfits like The New York Time and The Guardian. But when you made your way to the site, the pieces featured there were exceptionally thoughtful, gracefully crafted with a real seriousness and meticulousness.) I just wish this attempt at transformation could have been done in a way that respects the venerable tradition and intellectual vitality of the publication.

I'm tired of the fetishistic "Silicon"izing of everything. We need to stop bowing dow and worshipping "digital" and the Valley, and start thinking about how we fit into a larger ecosystem—of society, of values—and how we shape the deep, underlying, humming song of the world, not just the flashy surface.

Let's stop conforming to someone else's paradigm shift, and start making our own: one that has a true ethical core. The role of media isn't to get clicks—that's instrumental, not a raison d'etre. The role of media is to change thinking—to build an educated citizenry, provide truthful reporting, while pushing back against falsehoods, giving voice to the voiceless, to engage and provoke, to be both a gadfly and a pillar, to be the relentless critic and the sagacious teacher ... It is to create a collection of insights, and a world view (or many world views) ... It has a mission, and it keeps our democracy rolling. Fine, maybe not all media—the world has its gossip rags and its polemics. But this it The New Republic, for God's sake. Can we not let it do its job? Can we not nurture these writers and support them as they carry out a spectacularly pro-social mission of opening minds, challenging assumptions and inspiring more critical thinking?

If you have fabulous wealth from the Second Web Era, you would think you could purchase your way out of that life—to transcend. Instead, this dude—and dude really isn't a wrong appellation for someone of our Internet-fueled generation—is buying into the world of Internet hype. He is embodying the social media generation instead of finding a way of stepping up and rising above. He isn't interested in evolution, but retrogression. It's worse a violation than any "old media" outfit could ever commit of being limp or anachronistic, because this generation is supposed to be better than that. There are greater expectations, we should show more promise, because we know, because we are digital natives. He's sinking down to the level of the extant world, not looking into what could be. He's accepting status quo, when the status quo is meaningless "disruption". He never asks those around him, whether it's his immediate circle of friends, his band of writers and employees, or his wide assemblage of of readers and society at large, to do anything other than conform. Instead, he could be inviting us all to do better.

With this outcome, The New Republic has given up the opportunity for new technology mavens to build a true partnership, friendship, alliance with the world of old and imagine a joint future together. A publication is not only its public face, nor the archive of articles, but the ensemble of people who write, build, shape and paint it, as well as the long heritage that has built its reputation, its character, its place in the cultural sphere. He's taken hostage the palace, and instead of reimagining-while-preserving, he's dynamited the tower, collapsed the chapel, leveled the walls and gates, so we all fall down the crevasse to a newly "flat" future. It will be a long time before we rebuild an architecture so elegant as that, and the city landscape will be the poorer for it.

This episode reminds me of the hutong-demolishing, resident-evicting, temple-bulldozing attitude—that cultural theft carried out by the skyscraper-and-condo building developers. They suffer from a narrowed field of vision, and what at the end of the day amounts to a real lack of imagination. The attitude seems to be that "everyone else is doing it," and so we must do the same to survive.

"Everyone else is doing it." That's what you want to do with our cultural heritage? "Everyone else is doing it." That's the best response you can give? From the intellectual heirs and beneficiaries of Silicon Valley—once the heart of innovation—I expected better. New shopping mall indeed.

Waiting for 包公 to visit the earthly world

Horrific story of police and judicial system malfeasance in China, from The Washington Post. In this piece, a group of former law enforcement officials who have witnessed and experienced abuse—and tried to do something about it—were sacked or jailed, and subsequently persecuted when they tried to press their cases. It's deeply unfair, revealing the darkness of a system rotting from the inside.

If only 包青天, Lord Bao, the historical judge renowned for fairness and ethics, could descend from Heaven and put a halt to the corrupt and unethical officials who are currently stacking the "justice" system.

The article and even some of the petitioners seem resigned to the fact that the petitioning won't achieve anything in the end. The local forces have all the power, and personal patronage linked with political insider status run the game. "It won't change," seems to be the message. If so, then we really need a divine clean sweep to dismantle this broken system.

Hong Kong democracy debate also a question of the Chinese Diaspora

The Wall Street Journal recently published two pieces on the different responses of older generations of Hong Kongers and the youth of the city.

China’s World: The View on Protests From Old Hong Kong

A Walk to the Past: Some Veterans Remember Having a Lot Less Say in City’s Fate

http://online.wsj.com/articles/chinas-world-hong-kong-views-of-democracy-diverge-1412446393

In Hong Kong, a Family Divided

After Pro-Democracy Protests, a Son Faces Arguments at Home

http://online.wsj.com/articles/in-hong-kong-a-family-divided-1412360934

According to a community elder in the first article, "there’s freedom to work and freedom to live. 'How can people criticize?'"

Perhaps that was enough for our parents' or grandparents' generation—but it's not enough for people coming of age today. Those who came before struggled, bled, and worked themselves to the bone to give us, their 後代, a better future.

But what does a "better future" mean? It means we have an opportunity to become ourselves. We have a choice of being anything we want to be—doctors and lawyers, artists and designers, or even politicians and social activists. To love whomever we want to love. To lead a life that matches our principles and values and our vision for society.

Their struggle was, in large part, about economic security—something elusive when they were growing up in developing country (literally Third World) conditions. That is why so many of them chose to immigrate to the United States, Canada, Australia, or other countries in search of jobs and opportunity.

However, going abroad wasn't just an economic decision—it was also about human dignity. They worked hard to provide for us, not just so we could live comfortably, but also so we could choose our own future, in a way they might not have been able to. They had to take secure jobs (hi there, engineers!) and work long hours. They had to look for stable income to support a family. They had to stay silent and not express themselves fully. They had to make the conventional and "safe" choices—often under authoritarian threat and political monitoring in Nationalist-ruled Taiwan, or colonial disdain in British-ruled Hong Kong, or immense social pressure in LKY's Singapore, or outright persecution in Maoist China. All this just to live in peace and safety, and have a shot at life.

Now, because of their struggle and sacrifice, we-the-next-generation have the ability to make different choices.

These debates about democracy, activism and social change are not only an issue among Hong Kong's citizenry, though they are literally at the front lines of battle. These debates are manifested between Chinese generations— old and young, parent and child, foreign and native-born—all around the world. It is the ongoing transition from traditional culture to modernity, the ever-present question of the Diaspora, of immigrant families, of pioneering generations, whether in the 19th century, or the 20th, or the 21st.

It is why all of us in the Diaspora must watch what happens in Hong Kong. It is why we should care about the fate of Taiwan's democracy, or whether Singapore fully liberalizes and empowers its opposition. It's why we must be concerned with what happens in China itself. In every Sinic community around the world, the same questions resonate. These struggles and negotiations happen on a daily basis, in the family unit, but also in society more broadly.

Today, I sincerely believe that our parents support us in working for and achieving a better future, because we all ought to have the right to choose.

It's not just about choosing political leadership, though that might be part of the equation. It's about the right to go to the streets. The right to ask for change. It's about having greater agency over the life we wish to live. That right was not available to them. Some would prefer to call this ability to choose a "privilege"—something belonging only to the wealthy or the connected, to those who need not fear social repercussions. However, just because this right was denied to our parents and grandparents does not diminish its worth. It means we ought to cherish it all the more.

Their gift to us was to open a door, to point us toward something different: a world that is less subject to social pressure or familial coercion or political suppression. A world that is freer and truer, that is more benevolent and caring. A world that lets us be who we wish to be.

In our own ways, whether through street protest, or volunteering in the community; through the creation of literature and art, or through political engagement and voting, we can move our society toward that dream. It is not just for us; it is for our 後代 too.

We've been given the opportunity to look upon a better future. We would be remiss not to struggle for it.

Rhetoric & Reframing

In Larry Diamond's TIME magazine article about the peaceful demonstrations in Hong Kong, he notes that:

"The mammoth protests that have gripped Hong Kong for the past several days have implications far beyond this Special Administrative Region of more than 7 million people ... the youth-led demonstrators have posed the most serious challenge to the authority of the Chinese Communist Party since the massacre in Tiananmen Square 25 years ago."

As momentous and unprecedented as these events are, if the goal is to create a framework for negotiations that helps to reach a democratic resolution without the use of force, I wonder if it is helpful to be using cataclysmic terms that presage the end of the Communist Party. (Maybe that fear is precisely why they don't want Hong Kong to be free?)

Is it possible to reach a more desirable outcome if we lower the stakes and start calling this a "local issue" or a "small thing" with few implications for the CCP? If Hong Kong's fate—in this particular pitched battle, or in general—is seen as "not such a big deal," not an existential threat, then it will be easier for Xi to back down. He will not have to take a hard line because it's ostensibly small potatoes—something on the margin that people shouldn't pay too much attention to.

Of course, the outcome in Hong Kong is a deeply meaningful issue, and there will obviously be implications for liberalization on the Mainland. But could there be some utility to backing off the rhetoric of "make-or-break", "pivot-point", "history in the making" and reframing this as a kind of "business as usual"? Then Xi Jinping will have more space to maneuver. He can grant concessions without seeming weak. He can back down and negotiate without seeming to capitulate to a fundamental threat to the CCP.

On the other hand, diminishing or removing the spotlight from Hong Kong could simply be an invitation for the Beijing (and its HK proxies) to crush the demonstrations by force. Beyond the immense courage, determined conviction, and sheer decency shown by the protestors, there is an additional protective halo of international media coverage, which will amplify the business and economic costs for Beijing should it resort violence.

Finally, another random thought is that while the CCP and its shock troops People's Armed Police may have practiced intensely for Tiananmen-style demonstrations in China itself, all that preparation and war-gaming goes out the window when the massive protests are taking place in Hong Kong—a society with free speech and free press, and importantly, people used to regularly taking to the streets,to assemble in an orderly fashion and express their dissatisfaction with poor governance.

—————

Also check out Prof. Diamond's video remarks about the democracy movement, including messages directly addressed to the people of Hong Kong and to democrats worldwide:

Remarks on Hong Kong's Pro-Democracy Movement (source)

(Excerpt) Message to People in Hong Kong and Democrats Worldwide (source)