More on Typepad and China - courtesy of The Guardian weblog:
March 30: Six Apart co-founder Mena Trott has emailed me to clarify what I was told on March 29 regarding Typepad in China. She says TypePad has 'heard reports from some Chinese TypePad users that they can not access their public weblogs but can access the TypePad application. We've heard from some weblog readers in China that they are able to access TypePad weblogs.' She goes on to explain that 'we are pretty confident that there is not a technical reason on our end for the problems some Chinese users are having accessing their sites', but 'frankly, because we are not in China, we can't be 100% sure of the exact cause and effects of the situation and to what degree our customers are being affected'.She goes on to say: 'For the record, I did not state that the Chinese government was blocking TypePad sites. I did convey that it's not likely to be a technical problem on our end, but that doesn't not rule out technical problems in the routing of the sites in China.' Mena has placed a full copy of her message on her new blog, Mena's Corner.
Jane Perrone
Many thanks to Jane Perrone at The Guardian for her tenacity in pursuing the matter, but it sounds to me like Six Apart are reluctant to accept that this is a block.
I have to say that Mena Trott raises some fair points. Moreover, perspectives from abroad, where Internet censorship is not the issue it is here, are likely to be different. It may be that outside the PRC, China bloggers complaining of assumed censorship are simply seen as being paranoid, while there is indeed a simple explanation.
So if you ARE able to access any Typepad sites such as http://www.andresgentry.com , http://www.danwei.org or http://www.glutter.org from the mainland, please let me know via the comments section.
Nasty colour scheme has been revised to a different nasty colour scheme in futile protest against the Chinese government's blog blocking policy. In retrospect, we should have looked black in anger last week when BlogCN and Blogbus were closed down. But hey.
Here's a question: does the fact that I and others participate in a clearly disapproved of activity make us dissidents? Whether our writing is politically extremist or innocuous ruminations on today's breakfast?
Today I had a fun-size Snickers on the bus, followed by some fried dumplings and a doughnut. Beat that for subversion.
Just heard those expressions again. "It's not me, it's the director." "This is the Chinese mind." Thursday afternoon had me seething with that deep frustration tinged with ironic laughter that other China residents know all too well.
I detected the fishiness quite early. "May I leave class a little early today?" asked a student as we waited for the classroom to free up. "I have to go for a run."
Far from being in training for the Olympic squad, the individual concerned was in fact trying to stay out of trouble. He wasn't the first. This week a high proportion of students have slunk through the door five minutes late after the mid-lesson break, breathless and red-faced after a 10-minute jog around the sports track.
On this occasion I decided go see for myself just what the issue was.
Each lesson at my university lasts for 100 minutes - two 45 minute periods with a 10 minute break in between. This is a thoroughly good idea since it gives students (and teachers) a bit of relaxation time during which the brain can recover.
Also a good idea is compulsory physical training for university students. Few of the 200 kids I teach are overweight, whereas it would be a very different story in the UK and worse still in the US. A fit mind in a healthy body.
There again, it could be down to the appalling food they serve in the canteens. Furthermore, the enforcement technique leaves a lot to be desired.
At the stroke of the four o'clock break, before the bell had stopped ringing, droves of students were scampering out of the teaching building and hastening toward the athletics track. I set off in pursuit.
There they were, most wearing jeans, jumpers, coats and shoes, some of the girls in kitten heels, doing their PT. It was laughable. Many were walking.
Standing at the edge of the 400m track was one of the fattest Chinese people I've ever seen, certainly too bloated to have been able to run himself. He was holding an electronic device and as each student passed they held a swipe card beside it. Thus the fact that they had made it round the track was digitally recorded.
Apparently, each student has to obtain 'credit' for their PT. Perhaps 10 laps per day, I'm not sure. If the appropriate distance is not reached, they are penalised via their academic record.
Now, they should jog before breakfast, take a shower, eat and then go to class. The pong emanating from some of them during the day may indicate that this is not the case. The amount of students trying to catch up during class at the moment is further evidence.
I'm told that the track will be renovated in April, leaving the lazier students limited time to make up their credit quota. And they can only run when the electronic recorder man is present.
To be fair to the fat controller, he has to answer to someone else, who eventually in turn has to answer to the Ministry of Education. The university will be penalised if it cannot show that the physical training programme is being fulfilled.
The university therefore has to demonstrate that its students have fulfilled the 'running distance' quota imposed upon it. Presumably there's some official somewhere ticking boxes: "Yep, the accounting students this week have run a total distance of 10,000 km between them. Tally ho!"
It's symptomatic of a ridiculous keeping-up-appearances situation that while it works in general has some serious flaws.
1. To draw the health benefits you should exercise for at least 20 minutes at least three times per week. Trotting around the athletics track during your breaks is not going to achieve this.
2. They're students. They're not all going to roll out of bed and go for a run at 6am unless they have a bewhiskered drill sergeant screaming in their faces.
3. I've even heard that the lazy ones often pay the racing snakes to do a couple of extra laps on their behalf. Thus, not all the students are gaining from the exercise regime.
4. It's hard to quantify the disruptiveness of having half your students turn up five minutes late and in no state to learn. I am paid to teach them, they are here to learn. Period.
Here's a summary. Each university has to produce a quota of distance run. So the students do it in such a way that they neglect their study. Though the quota is fulfilled, in fact the running has mostly been useless.
Let's look at another example. Each village has to produce a quota of metal. So they spend all their time melting down pots, pans and farm equipment, neglecting their crops. Though the quota is fulfilled, in fact the low-grade metal is mostly useless.
Sound familiar? I don't accept that this is 'the Chinese mind'.
How can China move forward if even the journalists are corrupt?
I teach a class of journalism students, and I'm beginning to learn from them as much as they learn from me. Some of it isn't encouraging.
A couple of weeks ago, a student approached me with a story from his summer holiday work experience where he witnessed plagiarism so routine it made The New York Times Jayson Blair look positively original. The student said that this is common enough practise in China and I believed them.
Below is another e-mail just sent to me by a student; it makes stark reading.
The economy of this country grows too fast!! The large gap between the poor and the rich, the very different living standards, the principle with which to value whether a person is successful or not - the amount of money you possess - makes people lost in this confused metropolis.
I had a conversation with one of my friends, a 35-year-old business man, who once worked as a good journalist at a newspaper. Now, he is engaged in real estate.
The [real estate] industry is full of profit, much more than a journalist can earn, but what he talked about in front of me was money. When he talked about his salary and the car he bought recently, he was completely indulged in it .
"Vulgarian," I told myself.
The man before me had changed a lot. He was no longer be proud of being a journalist. He said this job is not stable, and not highly paid. He regretted being so late to realise that and jumped out of the circle of news.
He told me that his passion for this career was cut because to keep oneself honest is difficult in China. Many journalists are richer than editors because when they attend news conferences, it is very common for them to receive benefits given by the host - and an [pre-written?] accomplished report is provided. All you need to do is to polish it.
Sometimes the host will give you two "(Chinese Character - gifts)", one is for the journalist, the other is for the editor. And it is very common in news circles!!!
When your report inteferes with a big potato, an official, even a person who has a personal connection with the power department in this city, this essay will be
killed by the editor. If not,you will be kicked out.
"But you can use the law to defend your report," I said.
"No, stupid, there is no relevant law, not even a rule, to protect China's journalists till now," he said.
Where is the morality of a journalist? What is the role the newspaper plays in our society? It is no more than a tool to publicize the ideas from the CCP [Chinese Communist Party].
No wonder that during your classes, our conception of the READER is so faint. The direction our media takes is towards our leaders, this so-called elite.
He even warned me that most women in newspapers are spinsters; no man wants to marry them, because they are too good and know too much. No one will marry a woman better than himself. They need a petite one.
What a poor theory! But unfortunately it actually happens in China.
So, I ask myself time and time again: Why should I choose to be a journalist?Why? Tell me why you chose to be a journalist.
There is always a gap between the ideal and reality that can't be fulfilled. A person should always know what he needs, who he is. Keeping yourself in this society is not easy but necessary.
Heart rending stuff - what could I say? I said that eventually the CCP will change; it is already changing albeit very slowly. Better this than the alternative, economic collapse and bloody revolution.
Moreover, I said, once corruption within the media is eliminated it can strive to expose corruption in industry and politics. Only through beating this cancer can China truly maintain its seemingly phenomenal growth. A fundamental aspect of a healthy market economy is free trade and fair competition; this is fundamentally in oppostion to a culture of graft, kickbacks and bribes.
While the government gives lip service to fighting corruption, an honest and courageous media is another key weapon. But the journalist's job here can be a dangerous one; perhaps we shouldn't forget the privileges we take for granted in the West.
Later, after I replied, the writer followed up:
May be what I wrote will provoke an allergic reaction from some people. I don't care. At least I can start some interesting discussions...
Corruption is definitely a big problem, but I don't think it is the major barrier in improving China's economy. Corruption exists in every country, every period. It is not typical of China.
But our political system which caused the corruption is really bad. It gives officials too much power. So, the Chinese government should take measures to change the system and block the origin of corruption.
Meanwhile the 900 million peasants in China deserve more attention. Once the gap of income becomes enlarged to a dangerous extent, our country will not have the security which is a fundamental element for development.
Agreed. What can be done? The CCP's grip on the press is certainly loosening, but maybe it needs to let go before it ends up choking the whole country to death too.
Often it's the little things that annoy you most.
Yesterday, I was queuing at the university teachers' canteen. I had spotted a few of the dumplings I particularly liked waiting invitingly on the hotplate and was waiting for the serving staff to return. I waited alone for a couple of minutes before two ladies, presumably university professors drew up beside me.
I know that China has a 'different culture'. But sometimes I forget. So when the server arrived I didn't think there would be any issues as to who was first.
The lady next to me immediately ordered all eight dumplings on the plate without even a sideways glance. I was left with nothing.
During a recent student debate I tried to hold concerning differences between Eastern and Western cultures, one student posited that "in the East, we think about the group, in the West it is the individual." I'm still trying to get to grips with this comment, and I think that somehow I need to define what is meant by 'group' and what by 'individual'.
During the dumpling incident, who was in the group and who was the individual? The woman must have been buying the dumplings on behalf of her friends; unless she was incredibly greedy she wouldn't have been able to eat all eight alone.
But as a fellow teacher who had been queuing for longer, was I not part of the Venn set of 'teachers' and thus enjoyed equal rights to the food? I would only have bought two, thus the other group would have got six; everyone would have benefited.
Or rather did I belong to the group of 'foreigners' and thus for some reason was not entitled the same rights? Or instead was I simply considered as an individual, outside the other woman's sphere of reference and thus non-existent?
I'm talking about this at length since in a way it's illustrative of the macrocosm of Chinese society. Yes, ultimately the teacher (despite being armed with a cluster of academic certificates) behave like a peasant and this is par for the course. It's the lack of recognition of social responsibility or of any rights for other people that get to me.
I can't make up my mind whether it's really thinking of the group first, individual second, or just selfishness by another name.
Consider this, then, by way of squaring the circle. The Chinese government has recently blocked several blogging providers, presumably since it is afraid of free speech and unrestricted comment. It's been debated and will continue to be discussed here at Living in China.
The writing is interesting not because of the people who condemn the action but because of the one who supports it. Since I posted the article, I know who the writer is and I can assure you they are no brainwashed peasant.
So does this view represent the majority? It is OK to infringe the rights of the individual for the good of the whole? Who really is the whole, and who really is the individual?
But finally, do the individuals really care about the group at all? This is not how it seems to me in cosmopolitan Shanghai with its violently disparate levels of wealth and ruthless 'me, me, me', 'I'm all right Jack' culture. But is this just because I am an individual and cannot comprehend the whole?
It may not seem so in China, but everyone is an individual. At least in theory.
There's thousands of English teachers here but millions of students. Millions. Faced with the army of kids that this biased ratio generates, no-one can be blamed for feeling that the blank expressions they encounter each day are all part of some amorphous mass, an impersonal juggernaut of closed young minds.
There's always at least one, however, that singularly breaks the mould.
I'm lucky enough to teach at a relatively prestigious international programme at a relatively prestigious university, and have a few such students. One such individual is the somewhat... Slavically-named S------.
S just took me for dinner as a precursor to an English-language 'talk show' she runs for the benefit of the majority of her compatriates who have no access to foreigners. (God, I hate being thought of as a 'foreigner' all the time, but it's now becoming an easy term of referral. Perhaps we're just another such mass to them.) I'm to be the guest of honour, naturellement.
It's probably the first time I've actually been able to have a protracted conversation with any of my students. And over dinner we discussed, what else, the education system.
S has a different approach to many of the others. She rejects the consuming passion and obsession for grades; she realises that there is more to life than the oppressive grind of the Chinese education system. For example, she "sets aside time each day for self-development."
I can't tell you how glad I was to hear this. S values the opportunity of having a foreign teacher, while also valuing the different perspectives and attributes of the Chinese teachers too. Moreover, she reads books. Doesn't sound like much, but in her view few of the others are reading anything outside their academic life. If you can call it life.
The result is a confident, independent and intelligent young woman who stands out from the crowd. Her English is fluent, not because of my efforts (probably despite them) but because of her own self-discipline.
This all begs a few questions, however. How much of this is nature and how much is nurture? How many S are there out there? Are the individuals who make up the majority of my classes S in disguise, or are they missing something that inexplicably she and only a handful of others have? How can China survive without more people like this, people with the power to think?
Cos one thing is for sure; it's people that can make this country work, not robots. But from what I can see, on judgment day it's the machines that will inherit China and that's not a good sign.
The dinner was crap.
Update - having thought further about the above, written in a moment of frustration, I concede that some of it is a bit harsh. Of course Chinese students have the power to think, just like anybody else. The robots comparison is way over the top, so I retract it with apologies.
The trouble is that it often seems to a foreigner that students just aren't using their mental faculties the way they should. Too many times I will give a task, or instruct students to ask questions, and there will be no response at all. Other times, it's the opposite: but it's always the same ones who are active. The rest, it appears, are content to just sit back and do nothing. They can think, but often I have to make them think.
It's this that worries me. Because thinking is something you have to do on your own. Perhaps I should not blame the students but the education system, which seems to put far more emphasis on rote learning and memorisation than upon analysis, practice and argument.
I don't think it's just lack of confidence in a second language that is to blame, though it is a factor; maybe it's lack of experience in the critical thinking that I and my English contemporaries were imbued with at university.
Perhaps I should try harder to get to know the students better outside the classroom environment, but in many ways the door is locked.
That's right. A fortnight virtually offline, struggling to maintain both Living in China and my own sordid existence without the use of a workable interface to the Internet.
No more. After a combination of hassles (which, in some respects, are only just beginning) I have a new computer and I'm back in action.
What's happened in the last two weeks? Quite a bit. In no particular order, I've resumed my journalism career, been at turns frustrated and elated, got back into the teaching with vigour, turned 29 and acquired a Romanian. Watch this space...