"The" way vs. "A" way

From James Fallows's (Atlantic Monthly writer) blog:

This is not a scientific comparison, but when i saw one scene I remembered another.

This is the recent scene: yesterday afternoon, Naha airport, Okinawa, Japan. Line crew gassing up a Cirrus SR22:



Details to notice below: crew identically dressed in company uniform; complete safety gear -- hardhats, reflective chest straps with procedural checklist clipped on, puffy protective cuff to shield the plane's wing from damage. It's hard to see in the picture, but even the boots are part of the uniform: black, with red laces, and company logos on the back. Impossible to see in the picture: the coordinated shout and semi-bow toward the plane when the fueling was done.




Now, the scene I remembered and mentioned last year: Refueling the same kind of plane in Changsha, capital of Hunan Province, China.



With usual caveats against sweeping generalization, what this made me think was: Japan is all about the way of doing things. Practice, ritual, perfectionism, as much fanatical attention to the process as to the result. China is all about finding a way to do things. Improvisation, little interest in rules, putting up with whatever is necessary to attain the result.

(Yeah yeah yeah, there are exceptions: perfectionist operations in China, loosey-goosey ones in Japan. Still.)

At the moment, I am feeling positive toward both approaches. The emphasis on the right way of doing things is re-surprising on each encounter with Japan. And the determination to do things in China, no matter what, commands respect, despite the obvious complications and problems it creates.

But when it comes to refueling the plane....

My coworker James lives in one of the fancy expat apartments near my place. He pays about 10x as much for his rent, and the apartment IS much nicer than mine. He says he likes renting there, but he'd hate to own it. The power outlet covers are on at slight angles, the hardwood floor isn't sealed, the faucets wobble, etc. Whoever actually bought the apartment (presumably prepaid for it) got a seriously sub-standard construction job, in what's one of the nicer places in the city. I don't know how much of it's a lack of pride in one's work and how much of it's the fact that it was built by untrained migrant laborers.

Extinguishing the light at the end of the tunnel

Last week, after returning to Beijing from my vacation (chronicled here in pictures, but perhaps never to be typed up in the blog), I was ecstatic to discover that in addition to opening a new subway line, the price of tickets had actually been lowered, from 3RMB to 2. I was gleeful, to say the least.

My glee was poorly thought out, as such emotions tend to be. In addition to the new line servicing its own area, it brought a huge increase to the number of people transferring to and riding the 2 existing lines. A China Daily article quotes city officials who say that the passenger volume has increased by 46% since the opening of the new line, "an immediate positive impact." Of course this increase in passenger load has made morning commutes almost unbearable, and even Sunday afternoon rides unpalatable.

The city announced earlier in the year that it will bring 264 new subway cars into service and cut waiting times for every line in order to make public transit more comfortable and appealing. They also seem to recognize that more lines are needed to make the subway a good choice for most commuters. They plan 4 more lines by 2010, bringing the total to 7, and a total of 19 lines covering 560 km by 2020, making the network the largest in the world. Of course, reducing the fare by 33% means reducing their revenues by nearly the same amount, costing the government an estimated $130 million a year on top of existing subsidies.

Meanwhile, as long as the experience underground is miserable and crowded, more people will be driven towards the great Chinese dream of the decade- car ownership. People who can afford a car are not going to be won over by a 1RMB price decrease. Cars are partly status symbols, but they're also (delusionally) perceived as convenient and comfortable compared to other forms of transportation in the city. To paraphrase a poster in a Beijing expat message board commenting on the price drop, the city won't persuade a single driver to switch over, they lost a third of their revenue, and they made the subway a living hell. Brilliant.

I'm also going to steal a potential solution from that same forum thread and expand on it a little. Don't decrease the fare, increase it. Make it 10RMB a ride, a 400% increase from the new price, and a luxury experience. Provide a hot cup of soy milk and a fried dough stick in the morning, an evening paper on the way home, and make the ride comfortable. If they want to reduce pollution and improve traffic they need to bring rich people down out of their cars, not take poor people off of their bikes and out of the buses. It shouldn't be too hard a sell. Drivers sit in traffic that's getting worse by the day. Surely reading a newspaper in an air conditioned, well-appointed subway carriage as they're whisked to work is a better solution. The poor people were doing fine with their buses and their bikes until the cars arrived and tangled up traffic. A huge price increase doesn't seem to be helping the poor people, but I think in the grand scheme it is.

Writing headlines is harder than writing post titles.

With the 2008 Olympics fast approaching, and China’s ambitiously green Beijing still invisible through the smog, the government is exploring radical options to ensure that the environment doesn’t spoil their pageant.

The city recently tested a partial ban on private cars, taking an estimated one million vehicles off the road for 4 days. Beijing’s streets were noticeably less gridlocked, but the success of the experiment in clearing the air is questionable. On August 20th, the final day of the ban, the city’s air pollution level remained unchanged. Yu Xiaoyuan, environmental director of the Beijing Olympic Organizing committee, declared the experiment a success: “If we had not had the traffic controls we could not have maintained this level because the temperature and humidity were very high. So we can see the restrictions worked.” Despite Mr. Xiaoyuan’s enthusiasm, at the time of writing, air quality data for August 20th was unavailable on China’s State Environmental Protection Administration website, the only day this year without statistics provided.

A ban on cars is only one of the drastic measures under consideration. China has ramped up its weather control program in order to prevent Beijing’s frequent summer downpours from disrupting the event, and perhaps to use nighttime showers to clear the air of dust and pollutants. The government has trained and recruited over 37,000 peasants to operate Mao-era artillery, firing exploding shells of silver iodide into clouds to accelerate their growth and induce rain. The weather controllers hope to intercept any cloud formations heading towards the city, dumping any rain safely out of sight of the Olympic dignitaries and press.

These experiments are nothing new- party bosses have long addressed symptoms of environmental problems rather than their cause.

Mao proposed in 1958 to connect the flood-prone Yangtze with the silt-choked Yellow River. In Mao’s vision, currently under construction, man-made channels stretch 1200 km to bring water to the parched North. However, environmentalists, including the State Environmental Protection Agency, doubt the plan’s potential. They propose water conservation as the solution to shortages in northern China, blaming artificially low water prices that encourage waste and make conservation technologies less economical. Environmentalists are also concerned that the plan could dry up the Yangtze River in 30 years.

The aridity of the North is a significant problem for China. Overgrazing, drought, and deforestation expand the Gobi desert by 950 square miles a year, and have led to sandstorms that reach Tokyo and are detectable even in the United States. China is responding by planting the Great Green Wall, a network of tree belts covering 9 million acres, to act as a windbreak and eventually to reclaim the desert. While hopes are high that this wall, the largest ecological project in history, will be a success, China continues to cut down 25 million trees a year for chopsticks alone.

The future aside, addressing the symptoms of environmental problems may be just the short-term fix that Olympic planners need. If a car ban and weather control are insufficient, China is reserving the option of pushing the big red button- shutting down all industry in Beijing. However, even bringing the city to a screeching halt may not work. For years Beijing has been coercing its heavy industry to relocate, but factories have settled nearby in the welcoming Hebei province, where summer wind conditions blow their pollution right back over Beijing.

This puts China’s government in the unenviable position of deciding between wielding their enormous influence and paralyzing the country’s industrial heartland or allowing Olympic athletes to arrive in Beijing wearing the activated charcoal masks issued by many teams. With the amount of international credibility China has staked on the games, it seems likely that some sort of shutdown will occur. What remains to be seen is how an increasingly liberalized Chinese market will react to command economy restrictions on a scale not used in years.