Shanghai Scrap

Back in 2002, when I first started riding in Shanghai taxis on a regular basis, the flag-down rate was RMB 10, if I recall correctly. Back then, the dollar was pegged at $1 = RMB 8.2. So, back then, and today, too, that struck me as a hell of bargain: US$1.21 was less than a rush hour bus fare back in Minneapolis. Of course, to the majority of Shanghainese (per capita income at that time was well below US$10,000 per head), of course, it was still a luxury. But the beauty of sprawling Shanghai is scale: back then, as now, there were approximately 45,000 licensed taxis working the city (and a sizable fleet of pirate ones, too), and it couldn’t have been just the dollar-denominated riders, like me, employing them.

In 2006, the city fathers, under pressure from the taxi companies, taxi drivers, and – most important – oil prices, raised the flag-down rate to RMB 11, or US$1.35. The per kilometer charge also rose, by RMB .1, or roughly US$.01/km. As I recall, most of the Shanghai taxi riders I knew were more annoyed at the coins they’d receive in exchange for handing over RMB 20 notes to taxi drivers, than they were by the actual bite of the fare increase.

Two years later, in October 2009, fares were jacked again, to RMB 12 for flag-down. Put differently though: the price of getting into a Shanghai  taxi had gone up 20% in two years. By then, the RMB had appreciated significantly against the dollar, lifting the dollar-adjusted fare to $1.76 – or more than 30%.

Which brings us to Friday, and a new rate hike – RMB 1 was added to the flag-down fee, along with an RMB 1 fuel surcharge (a fuel surcharge that doesn’t, the government says, come close to covering the increasing cost of fuel). So, in Shanghai, the cost of a taxi rose RMB 2, or roughly 17%. In five years, that’s a 40% hike if you go by the local currency. And if, like me, you are unlucky enough to measure your income in dollars, still, it’s a real whopper: $2.15, or up roughly 80% since 2006. (more…)

Late this afternoon, while recovering from food poisoning acquired on a China Eastern flight, it hit me: Shanghai Scrap turned four-years-old just a few days ago. And then something else hit me: activity on this blog has ground to a near standstill over the last two months as I’ve dealt with a family illness in the US, travel, and a new set of work commitments. In addition to writing a book that will be my nearly full-time job over the next year, I’ve also agreed to write a weekly column, about which I’ll have much more to say when the first one appears (probably over the weekend). This last development – the column – is particularly exciting to me, in part because I’ve finally found an outlet that welcomes me to write with the informal voice that I use here, at Shanghai Scrap, and not the more formal one that I use in most other publications.

Of course, Shanghai Scrap isn’t just a place for me to use an informal voice; it’s also a place for me to place reporting, ideas, and interviews that I can’t publish elsewhere. And I’ve done a whole lot of that: this post, believe it or not, is #781 in the storied history of the ‘Scrap – not bad for a one writer blog. However, as long-time readers have no doubt noticed, I’m doing less and less posting these days. In part, it’s because I’m really busy right now; in part, it’s because I can’t really post some of the things I’m reporting at the moment; and in part, it’s because, well, I only have so many words in me every day, and I’m trying to be more sparing with those words – and my time – so that I can devote them to my book and forthcoming column. For the hell of it, a photo of something that I can’t post about, but will be writing about:

That’s right: shredded coins.

Anyway, as much as I love blogging, and the readership that I’ve developed over the last four years, I find myself inclined to devote myself to different kinds of writing these days. In an ideal world, I’d figure out the magic formula that allows certain Atlantic bloggers to produce superb long-form projects while, at the same time, they keep up readable blogs. Alas, I am still in search of that formula, and until I find it, I’m not sure that I’m going to be returning to the three, four, or even five posts per week rate that characterized this blog right up to the end of 2010.

That’s not to say I’m going away. Rather, I’m going to start being a bit more selective with my time and words, offering – at most – one post per week. That seems like a reasonable rate – though, admittedly, it’s not very blog-like. Then again, this blog was never very blog-like: no space-holding posts of favorite youtube videos here, sir, no large blocks of somebody else’s text masquerading as content. No, at Shanghai Scrap, we report original material and you, well, you read. So let’s see how this new posting rate will work out. For the moment, it looks promising: after the weekend I’ll be sharing an interview about which I’m very excited, and then … I’ll keep my eyes open and hope that you, my beloved readers, will continue to keep me in your twitter and RSS feeds.

And, with that out of the way, and following four years of Shanghai Scrap tradition, I give you the top five Shanghai Scrap posts of the last 12 months.

• Fact-Checking the New York Times’ China coverage
• As the flight ascended, the knife descended
• Bye-Bye Best Buy (China): You had it coming
• Another Side of Dylan, China, and the nature of “Protest.”
• How could this happen? A reporter’s guide to USA Pavilion Debacle at Expo 2010.

See you next week.

I need to start this brief post by conceding that I’ve long been suspicious and critical of journalistic attempts to size-up ‘the average, ordinary, Chinese.’ China is too big, and too complicated, for such a model to exist. That noted, I think it is possible to get a somewhat representative sense of what’s going on in the heads of its internet users via peeks at its internet forums and oft-raucous microblogging platforms (in the same way that twitter can tell you something about what, say, US internet users are thinking). So, on that basis, let’s just say that the initial reaction has been complex.

To be sure, there was a substantial amount of – there’s no other way to put this – gloating – reflecting the long-standing bitterness that many Chinese still feel toward Japan, dating back to World War II (and which is still cultivated in schools and public society). Though that may be a distinctively Chinese reaction to the tragedy, it is by no means the only, or dominant, one (despite what you may be reading on twitter). Sympathy, condolences, and prayers flow from here, just as they do from other countries. In any case, a few hours after the quake I was asked to do a very quick piece for Foreign Policy on the Chinese reaction, entitled Schadenfreude and Sympathy in Shanghai. Since filing that piece, the essential China Digital Times has done a more comprehensive run-down, here.

I haven’t had much time to see what else is out there on the Chinese reaction, but I did see Max Fisher’s interesting piece on how the quake presents China’s navy with an interesting humanitarian opportunity, to say the least. It’s worth a read.

Finally, a very last minute announcement. This evening (March 13), at 19:00 PM, I’ll join Duncan Hewitt of Newsweek, and Rob Schmitz of Marketplace on the “Committing Journalism: how real is the story?” panel at the The Bookworm Literary Festival in Suzhou. I’m replacing NPR’s Rob Gifford, who has been called to more pressing matters in Japan.

I am definitely blogging this week, but I am doing it as a guest blogger for James Fallows over at the Atlantic. Most of my readers, I suspect, are familiar with Fallows’ blog  (it’s oft linked in these parts), but if not I hope you’ll stop by (and stay for Jim’s return in a month or so).  I’ve worked up something different for this stint: seven photo-oriented posts, limited text, one per day. The links, below, will go live as the posts go live at the site.

1/7 – 2/7 – 3/7 – 4/7 – 5/7 – 6/7 – 7/7

In other news: the Shanghai Literary Festival opens Friday, March 4, and I’m on the opening day panel -  the Bloggerati Panel – at 17:00 at the Glamour Bar. Jeffrey Wasserstrom of the China Beat blog (and so much more) will be moderating, and it guarantees to be a good discussion. It also guarantees to be followed by the festival’s opening night cocktail reception. Details on the panel, the cocktail, and the entire festival, available here.

In the US, savvy newsmakers like to save bad news – scandals, say – for the holidays, when reporters and ordinarily conscious citizens have turned their attentions elsewhere. In China, it seems, English-language bloggers like to do something similar: save some of their best posts for when their readers are enjoying the lunar new year. So, before I get back to the business of reported blogging, later in the week, allow me to point you in the direction of a handful of China blog posts that have been written – and might have been overlooked – due to the Chinese New Year, Egypt, and – give me a break, people – Groupon:

• “What We Lost 2010: Shanghai’s Architectural Losses Last Year” at Paul French’s essential China Rhyming blog. The post is exactly what the title suggests: a comprehensive, heart-wrenching account of what few remaining pieces of Shanghai’s diminishing architectural heritage were demolished in the last 12 months. It’s a frustrating, depressing, and above all informative post:  “… the pace of destruction in no way slowed but significantly increased throughout the year … [w]e should all be clear now that ‘preservation orders’ supposedly placed on buildings to protect them have no validity whatsoever and are merely cosmetic. Supposedly preserved buildings continue to be bulldozed regularly, often at 2am!” This is an ongoing, preventable tragedy, and French deserves tremendous credit for the depressing drudgery of documenting it (but goodness, Paul, why publish on the first day of the new year?). Absolutely essential reading.

• Shanghai Shiok!’s Christine H. Tan offers another installment in her ongoing exploration of sex and ethnicity in China – this time focusing on the poor reputation of Mainland Chinese women among SE Asians of Chinese descent in – wait for it – The bad reputation of Mainland Chinese Women (in my part of the world). Once again (in the case of Tan), this is a beautifully written exploration of a topic that’s normally treated with diatribes. Highly recommended — and stay tuned for an exclusive Shanghai Scrap, Valentine’s Day interview with Tan on “relationship blogs” in China (why not?).
• And since we’re on the topic of sex and ethnicity in Asia … I’ve been meaning to post a link to Jocelyn Eikenburg’s wonderful and lengthy interview with JT Tran, the self-proclaimed Asian Playboy, #1 Dating Coach for Chinese Men, and founder of the online magazine, Asian Men White Women. It’s a marvelous, totally unexpected (to me, at least) dialogue: “One of my students was a Korean virgin. He met his future fiancee at a New York City coffee shop. Everyone was staring at him because he was 5’4” and she was this 5’10” African American woman. And, one year later he proposed to her. So I think that’s great.”
• Switching back to Shanghai Scrap’s usual beats: East South West North translates a passage from a 2004 investigation into a rural Chinese village where crippled children are the biggest industry. For anyone who’s ever wondered about the source of the crippled children begging on the streets of China’s big cities, this sad post might provide some answers.
• And finally, last but not least, Xujun Eberlein‘s five part account of her (deeply) personal and professional effort to uncover and recover a misinterpreted and mostly unknown (outside of China) episode in US-China relations. The series was guest-blogged on James Fallows’ blog, and I really hope that it continues to wide circulation: 1. Prologue, 2. Evolution, 3. Puzzle, 4. Explorers, and 5. Revision. Cannot be recommended highly enough.

It’s Chinese New Year, the Year of the Rabbit, and – doing like much of East Asia – I’m going offline for a few days. In search of a suitable image to celebrate this unplugging, I’ve settled on the Prosperity Burger and the Prosperity McFizz, the Chinese New Year-themed offerings at McDonald’s Malaysia. Think of them, my dear American readers, as Shamrock Shakes for the SE Asian set.

For those in search of rabbits, I encourage a visit to Cat Meng’s 101 Chinese New Year Rabbits post (related, in part, to my much-maligned 141 Shanghai Christmas Trees). She’s got that beat covered, and well.

And finally, a quick note on Ambassador Jon Huntsman and his decision to step down so as to challenge his current boss in the 2012 presidential election. From my perspective, in retrospect, Ambassador/Presidential Candidate Huntsman has been a careful curator of his image in the US press. No surprise, but put differently: has he received anything but fawning coverage from the US press over the course of his tenure in Beijing? A single, even remotely critical story, blog post, mention? Has he really been so perfect? This sort of coverage is assiduously cultivated, believe me, (especially by his disagreeable former press attaché, Susan Stevenson, now the US Consul General in Chiang Mai). Nothing wrong with that, of course: it’s what politicians do. Here’s hoping Obama relieves him of his duties, sooner rather than later.

[UPDATE 2/11: Evan Osnos of the New Yorker offers a very thoughtful reply to some of the points made in this post. Highly recommended.]

Election eve, many years ago, I was watching the evening news with a couple of friends when David Broder, the erstwhile columnist for the Washington Post, appeared on the television screen to talk about who would win California’s electoral votes. I’ll never forget the first words out of his mouth:

“I’ve been talking to the voters of California.”

“All 36 million of them?” One of my friends asked, with a laugh, as Broder then proceeded to detail his earnest and, in my opinion, meaningless, conclusions.

Now, I realize that it is the job of the columnist and blogger to generalize – or over-generalize – based upon a small data set. But, as Broder’s ridiculous claim to have canvassed California’s voters suggests, this can be taken too far, and at risk of obscuring the important, more difficult questions that should be asked.

Exhibit #1: the growing wave of columns/blogs from China-experienced writers, asking: “Could Egypt’s/Tunisia’s unrest happen in China?” Now, I tend to think that’s the wrong question to be asking – and I’ll get to the right one in a moment – but first let’s take a look at the kind of high-level nonsense that’s being marshaled in blogs and columns to suggest that such an event is impossible in China. I quote these passages directly from recent blogs, all by writers whom I admire, a couple of whom are friends, and one even an occasional (and much favored) colleague (because that’s what friends are for):

• “Older Chinese are usually quick to point out that the relative calm of present-day China is far preferable to the tumultuous violence of past eras. Nor do younger strivers necessarily want to rock the boat …” [UPDATE 2/11: this item was originally bylined 'Christina Larson;' her name has since been removed from it, and the entire item moved to David Rothkopf's FP blog. The current link is to the latter.]

• “Most Chinese, as we’ve said here many times, have little to no interest in democratic reforms … [T]oday’s Chinese have little appetite for chaos.”

• “But, at the obvious risk of oversimplification, the lives of average Chinese citizens continue to improve fast enough that they see no reason to upturn the system.”

Really, people? Really? (more…)

I’m out on a long reporting trip right now – which means that I get to spend extended periods of time waiting in hotel rooms for people to call and say that I can come and see them, now. Hard to do much in that situation but read bite-sized blog candy, and that’s what I’ve been doing. So, a few of the things that I’ve enjoyed these last few days:

• Ever wonder what happens when police officers with little to no training in the firing of weapons, much less in hunting, get to do both? The mighty China Smack provides some insights with this magnificent account of a sort-of boar hunt. I know the US is falling behind China in just about everything these days, but I feel quite confident that an American police officer – especially one from a region where hunting is popular – would have required fewer than 13 shots to prepare the roast.
• I would be remiss if I didn’t mention Amy Chua mania. I had my say (on the book, no less), and others have had theirs. But I think no response has been quite so apt as Christine H. Tan’s satire, Why Chinese Girlfriends Are Superior. Tan’s post, like Chua’s, has become something of a phenomenon, racking up some 50,000 visits in one recent 12 hour period (my sourcing is impeccable, trust me). It is, indisputably the most popular English-language post in the China blogsphere in some time.
• Of the so-called news that came out of Hu Jintao’s visit to the United States, nothing struck me as quite so dispiriting as the accounts of American members of Congress whining to the Chinese leader, in a private meeting, about all of the bad things that he’s been doing to them lately. And the best account of that sorry episode comes from the LA Times. Why US congressional leaders would want to present themselves to the Chinese leader as a bunch of complaining supplicants escapes me entirely. I sincerely hope it has nothing to do with John Boehner’s claim that the United States “has a responsibility” to hold “China to account. He may believe that but, problem is, Hu Jintao probably doesn’t.

Relevant to nothing here, but worth posting: 3 AM at an ice cold Chinese scrap yard …

• And just what are we to think of a summit that was all symbol but for whatever was happening behind closed doors? I think Forbes’s Gady Epstein summarizes the event’s important/non-importance better than anyone. Nothing more need/could be said. (more…)

The other morning/night, on Warren Olney’s “To the Point,” New York Times’  diplomatic correspondent Mark Landler suggested that Hu Jintao had entered the “lame duck” period of his Presidency. I was on the show with Landler (podcast here), and I respectfully corrected his use of the term, then – and I’d like to correct it, once again, now, in large part because I’ve seen and heard several additional “lame duck” references to Hu over the last couple of days.

So, just to be clear: the use of lame duck, by Landler in regard to Hu, and to politicians in other circumstances, typically suggests that the politician’s influence is on the wane due to an imminent succession or election. In Democratic countries, it’s a genuine phenomenon, based upon the idea that power is derived from the people, and the people are now interested in someone else. But it’s a tenuous concept, at best, when applied to authoritarian systems, and especially relationship-based systems such as China’s. In China, unlike in a democratic country, power tends to accrue to leaders over the course of their tenure, in large part because they are developing, and deepening, the relationships that keep them in power, and allow them to govern. So, for example, of the many narrative threads that apply to Hu Jintao’s tenure and power, perhaps none if more important than his development of a power base that allowed him to wrest power from his predecessor, Jiang Zemin. Unlike prior Chinese Presidents and CCP secretaries, Hu assumed power in 2002 without the chairmanship of the Central Military Commission; he would have to wait until 2004 before he could muster enough institutional pressure to wrest that from Predecessor Jiang. And he would have to patiently bide his time, waiting until 2006, before unleashing a massive corruption investigation that effectively gutted Jiang’s power base in Shanghai.

No doubt, Hu faces occasional challenges to his authority. But I think it’s indisputable that the man has more power – and a wider power base in the party – in 2011 than he did when he assumed national leadership in 2002. The notion of a lame duck – that power declines upon election – just doesn’t apply here. I wish some analysts would stop wishing that it would.

And that’s all. I’m traveling, intensely, and barring a life-affirming inspiration, I plan to keep quiet.

Of the many wikileaks now released to the public, none is quite so disturbing (or, I must admit, interesting) to me as a November 16, 2009 cable released – without much fanfare – on December 28. Entitled ‘Portrait of Vice President Xi Jinping: “Ambitious Survivor” of the Cultural Revolution,” it offers a detailed historical study of Xi, China’s next leader, based upon an interview with a single source who purportedly knew Xi over the course of several decades (Daily Telegraph’s Malcolm Moore nicely summarizes the leak here). Here’s the problem: from the very moment that wikileaks announced that it would be releasing State Department cables, Julian Assange was quite clear that the organization would work hard to redact names and other information that could place confidential US intelligence sources at risk. Thus, the name of the source of information in the Xi Jinping cable is redacted to XXXXXXXXXXXX. But, in a sign that perhaps wikileaks either a) didn’t truly care whether or not intelligence sources were identified; b) aren’t nearly as smart as they’re credited for being; or, more likely c) took a seriously half-assed and rushed approach to redacting/protecting sources, the following information could be found in just the first few hundred words of a cable that contains thousands:

• “The contact is an American citizen of Chinese descent who teaches political science at XXXXXXXXXXXX”
• “XXXXXXXXXXXX and Xi Jinping were both born in 1953 and grew up in similar circumstances. According to the professor, they lived with other sons and daughters of China’s first-generation revolutionaries in the senior leaders’ compounds in Beijing and were groomed to become China’s ruling elite. The professor did not know Xi personally until they had both reached their late teens, when the professor began to hear about Xi from the professor’s best friend, XXXXXXXXXXXX, who was later sent to the same village as Xi in Shaanxi province during the Cultural Revolution.”
• “By the time the professor and Xi had returned separately from the countryside, they had come to know each other personally, initially through Zhou Sanhua’s introduction, and maintained a relationship for the next 15 years (ca. 1972 to 1987), even though their lives and careers took markedly different paths.”
• “The professor’s father was also an early revolutionary and contemporary of Mao, from a neighboring county to Mao’s in Hunan province. The professor’s father participated in the revolution periodically but also spent time in Japan and Hong Kong, distinguishing himself as a labor leader. In 1949, according to the professor, his father agreed to return to Beijing at Mao’s insistent and become the PRC’s first Minister of Labor and a member of the first Chinese People’s Political Consulatative Conference (CPPCC) Standing Committee.”

Google, anyone?

[UPDATED Jan 8: That didn't take long. The 'Alone in the Fart' blog does a nifty bit of detective work and fingers the source of the cable as Yi Xiaoxiong,  a professor at Marietta College.  However, it's worth nothing that what appeared to be the most revealing piece of evidence in the cable - the source's father's role as the PRC's Minister of Labor - turns out to be false (this is also pointed by Sam, in comment #6, below). That's a rather major error, and brings up, once again, a point that I made several weeks ago: the quality of the information contained in these cables is often very poor and suspect.]

A couple of weeks before Christmas, American apparel icon the Gap took it in the PR pants when it was revealed that some of its ‘Made in USA’ bags were actually manufactured in China. Personally, I didn’t and don’t share the outrage that led 75% of the respondents to a Huffington Post flash poll to declare that they wouldn’t buy the bags as a result of this oversight/act-of-hypocrisy. It is, after all, just a bag (albeit one being sold as a charitable fundraiser), and though Gap has a long history of overseas labor controversies, its most recent problems have been in countries other than China.

But anyway. Just before leaving Shanghai for the holidays, I made my second trip to China’s first Gap outlet (account of first visit, here) – this time, in search of a gift for a teenage cousin in the USA. I found it quickly, paid, and left the store with a signature blue Gap bag branded with the company’s Chinese home on the web: www.gap.cn.

The following week, in the US, as I unpacked the sweatshirt from the bag, I happened to notice – on the bottom of the bag – this:

Now, unlike the Made in USA bag, this bag contains no misrepresentations. But I think if I’m a shareholder in Gap, this bag bothers me more than the other, mostly because China is home to the world’s second largest paper industry and yet – for reasons known only to Gap’s management – the company is exporting paper bags to China, from the higher-cost US. That’s bad enough. But what’s worse, what’s really, really dumb, is that the green window dressing (“Please reuse this bag.”) is written in English. Not Chinese. In other words: Gap chose the most expensive, and least effective option for its shopping bags. And that, dear readers, is a pretty fair metaphor for how this troubled US company has handled its Chinese market entry, in general.

I spent the new year holiday not far from this patch of white.

I must say: it was good to be away from the OCD zone of twitter and people procrastinating by being deeply concerned about things that really aren’t any of their business (consider, briefly, just how weird it is to tweet about things like rare earth shortages; I mean, seriously [yes, I've done it]). Which is just my way of saying: I’m back online, refreshed, getting to my backed up emails, and wishing all of my readers a happy 2011.

[UPDATE 12/1 - A hearty recommendation for Richard Spencer's piece in today's Telegraph, "Why China hasn't abandoned North Korea - and why wikileaks is a work of flawed genius." Very much related to this post, only better.]

Earlier today the New Yorker’s Evan Osnos blogged disappointment (shared by many, including me) at the lack of juicy wikileaks about China and the Chinese leadership (ala the Qadaffi “voluptuous nurse” cable). And then, as if it were meant to be, wikileaks released the “Shenyang Cable,” complete with a section entitled “Princelings Behaving Badly.” (for those who don’t follow these things – ‘Princeling‘ is the nickname given to the children of high-ranking Chinese officials). The cable is entertaining/interesting for two reasons. First, it describes how the Princelings secure business deals in North Korea. And second, it describes two Chinese companies competing for sole mining rights to North Korea’s largest copper mine. One of those companies, Wanxiang Group, is described as close to Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao. And then we get this:

Without naming names, XXXXXXXXXX also suggested the strong possibility that someone had made a payment (on the order of USD 10,000) to secure the premier’s support.

That’s right: somebody at the US Consulate in Shenyang reported the “strong possibility” that China’s premier had been bribed for less than the cost of a used Buick in Shanghai. That is to say, somebody at the US Consulate in Shenyang – probably several somebodies – believes that the Premier can be bribed for less than the cost of a used Buick in Shanghai. Now, you don’t need to know anything about graft in China, much less world leaders, or Wen Jiabao, to know that $10,000 not only wouldn’t get the job done, it’d be viewed as an insult and an automatic disqualification from this any other mining contract. So I’m going to go out on a limb here: there’s simply no way that happened. None. Zero. Zilch. Now, is it possible that Wen has a “relationship” with Wanxiang? Sure. But not the one described in the cable.

And this gets to something that I think is going to become increasingly, uncomfortably obvious as more and more of these cables are released: US State Department employees in overseas posts often don’t know very much about the countries in which they’re posted. This is the result of a number of factors, not least of which is that they’re often sheltered – I mean truly isolated – from the countries in which they’re posted, living on upper-middle class wages in secure compounds where they have little to no contact with anyone but officials and employees of major US companies. US Consular employees in Shanghai, for example, live in serviced apartments at the Portman Ritz-Carlton (at US taxpayer expense), and often socialize accordingly. I don’t know the situation in Shenyang, but I feel comfortable suggesting that the person who felt comfortable reporting the alleged $10,000 bribe doesn’t regularly associate with people doing business in Shenyang (expat or otherwise). If s/he did, there’s no way that level of stupidity would have made its way into the cable.

That’s why I’m taking much of what I read in these cables – out of China or elsewhere – with a giant grain of salt (such as yesterday’s ridiculous ‘revelation’ that google’s problems in China are to due to a personal vendetta launched by a Politburo member). In the case of the Shenyang Consulate, at least, there’s now little reason to believe that the employees are equipped with even a budget-grade bullshit detector. If the State Department has anything to be embarrassed about, it’s not that these cables leaked, but that somebody once took them seriously enough to label as secret.

[UPDATE: Just to be clear - I'm not labeling the entire State Department as naive. Nor the entire US mission diplomatic in China. I've met some great FSOs - you know who you are, and you probably don't want to be named - and I've also met a very fair share of not-so-great ones. That a diplomatic cable was sent to D.C. with the strong suggestion (whether endorsed by the reporting FSO or not) that the Chinese premier was bribed for the price of a used Buick - I blame that on a systemic failure of the not-so-great, naive ones. With thanks to Gady Epstein of Forbes for reminding me that I need to be careful about generalizing. He's right.]

[UPDATE 2: Some interesting comments being left below, and in my inbox. For now I'm going to pull up comment #8 from Richard A, in part because I agree with it. And in part because it is just so vivid:

I know a lot of FSOs and other consular officials in Guangzhou. I am consistently unimpressed by their knowledge of China. The young FSOs who are shipped over for 2-3 years spend little time engaging with anyone besides Americans, other consular officials, or the Chinese who apply for visas and related documentation. I have found that many consular officials hold negative, sometimes hostile, views of Chinese people and the Chinese government, and other than language ability, demonstrate little capacity to understand China beyond what can be gleamed from mainstream, English-language media. I had dinner once at a consular officials house (after he and his family were well into their second year in China) and he was surprised when I explained that, “No, I can’t make turkey for Christmas because like most people here, there is no oven in my apartment.” Of course, he had never seen the inside of a Chinese home…

Not to belabor this point, but an FSO who hasn't been inside of a private Chinese home is an FSO who lacks the cultural context to evaluate intelligence in China. This is a problem.]

In observance of the American Thanksgiving holiday, the staff of Shanghai Scrap will be mostly offline for the next five days. I’ll check emails, but sporadically, but because for goodness sake we can all use two things: a) a break from the communication treadmill, and b) a nice Thanksgiving meal with friends and family.

And since it’s Thanksgiving — thanks to all of the folks who read my blog. I appreciate every link and comment, every last reader. And, heck, I’m especially thankful for those folks who I’ve befriended through this blog – who knew you could make friends through blogging? So, in a year when I have more to be thankful for than others, I wish the friends of the ‘Scrap a Happy Thanksgiving. See you next week.