Never Break A Promise That You Never Made In the First Place

The New York Times continues to do a lot of interesting and often excellent reporting on China. This post isn’t about that.

It’s about the tendency of observers to ascribe to China’s leader Xi Jinping things he’s never said or indicated an abiding commitment to doing.

Today’s edition of the online edition has a story with the headline “Xi Jinping’s Failed Promises Dim Hopes for Economic Change in 2nd Term”. The article states that:

…as Mr. Xi nears the end of his first five-year term as Communist Party leader, his record has not lived up to the bold statements, critics say. The question now is whether he was ever really serious about taking the painful steps needed to repair the economy, or merely paying lip service to reform to justify his tightening grip on power.

The piece has some good reporting, in that it casts the interview wider than the usual suspect Western experts (though they get their shout, of course) and asks Chinese analysts their thoughts on where Beijing has failed in restructuring the economy here. There’s disappointment and perhaps even a little despair evident in the responses (as well as a bit of smugness from some of the Observers Abroad) when it comes to progress made in economic and financial reforms.

But what’s troubling is the presumption that it’s Xi who’s breaking promises. 

First, Xi doesn’t make promises. That’s the job of the collective leadership in China. It’s inaccurate and actually unfair to characterize the lack of progress as somehow Xi’s fault. Xi’s makes policy pronouncements and lays out goals, but one would be hard-pressed to point to a speech where Xi lays out any sort of economic vision.

It’s also unclear how Xi can be cast as so strong on the one hand and so weak (or at least weak-willed) on the other. Is his failure one of will or capability? The article poses the question—which is a sign that the issue isn’t about promises in any event but should really be about the political environment that Xi is in, and is trying to reshape, for better or worse. If Xi doesn't do something, it's because Xi the strongman is either suddenly weak or deceptive? Really?

Moreover, when Xi makes “promises” about reforms, those overwhelmingly have been about changing China’s Communist party. Xi’s been drifting in and out of economic policymaking in the past few years and he’s made references to the importance of “strengthening and improving the Party’s leadership over economic matters [加强和改善党对经济工作的领导].” That's pretty much it. When there have been actual reforms proposed to China’s economic planning and procedures—which is where everyone here knows the real changes are needed—it’s been Premier Li Keqiang who’s been the key comrade. If anyone should be held individually accountable for the dearth of progress towards a more open economy in China, it’s Li.

Even more important is the mistaken assumption that when China’s leaders talk about economic reform, they mean market access, financial deregulation, lower trade barriers and the sorts of features that many think Beijing needs to be focusing on. They don't mean such things; that's outside analysts and commentators talking about what they think China ought to do. Xi talks about reform as a far more expansive undertaking, in which economics is only a part (and not a large one). Li, for his part, wants to eliminate bureaucratic obstacles and transform the ways in which decisions and made and applied in China. Xi wants more control, Li’s arguing for more speed. Neither is convinced that a Western economic model works for China anymore than they believe a political one will. Assuming that they do is a terrible error.

Xi’s not suddenly going to come around to being the leader that some observers want him to be—a desire that’s gotten all the fiercer with the dismay accompanying Donald Trump as US president. Xi hasn’t guaranteed anything more than to make China great his own way, and he thinks reforming the Communist party he leads is the main job at hand. At the end of the day, economic transformation might turn out to be the only way left forward for him, but let’s wait until Xi says exactly that before anyone accuses him of making promises he never made to start with.  

Another Fad That Fades--Or Gets Ridden Out Of Town?

A brief word or twelve about the new bike-sharing programs that have debuted in a number of Chinese cities in recent months, including some in Jiangsu. 

There’s been a lot of interesting analysis that’s been done on these initiatives, at least from a macro perspective. Mobike, Ofo, and a number of other brands are seen as vying for customers to get out of their cars and back in touch with the bike-reading heritage of the Middle Kingdom.

Unfortunately, a good deal of the coverage thus far is overheated and rests at one or another extreme: these programs will save China’s cities and show how innovative the country and its young people are; or they will turn out to be terrible investments, another example of excess capacity in China and bubbles about to burst. Apparently in China, anything new is either a “game-changer” or about to implode an already teetering structure—there’s no in-between, and, it’s implied, they cannot be both true. (That China's bubbles very rarely actually burst never seems to get any attention.)

Perhaps that’s the view from Beijing and Shanghai, and maybe there’s merit in that analysis for those cities. But the vast majority of China’s people live elsewhere. And here in the provinces, the situation is just as complex as it’s always been and may well ever be.

First, these are good bikes that Mobike and Ofo are providing: they’re handsome and well-kept, and they’re pretty much everywhere. But then again, so are the bikes being offered by the city of Nanjing in partnership with other quasi-private firms. The problem with the latter has been the payment system: instead of apps, prospective riders were supposed to use their public transportation cards to swipe.

Except they couldn’t: Nanjing teamed up with a firm (or created one as a front company—it happens all the time here in Local China) that decided it wanted its own card used to collect fees on. That situation is now said to have been remedied, but in some parts of the city, the problem persists. Nanjing has invested a lot of money and attention to the city-wide project of providing bikes to residents, but it’s under challenge from Mobike, Ofo and others because riders want to use apps on their cellphones.

Another problem for Nanjing at least is that their bikes have to be left at designated stations. The vast majority of residents here do that; but some don’t, and that’s created a problem of retrieval, as well as theft (particularly by itinerant labor in the city, some of whom can’t believe their good fortune of being able to swipe a card and swipe a bike to take back to the countryside at the same time). Nanjing has established a plethora of new sites, but some customers start riding the bikes, find their dietary habits (especially cigarettes) don’t allow them to go very far, give up after less than a kilometer or two, and leave the bike anywhere they find convenient for themselves. The irresponsibility that pervades Chinese society rears its ugly front wheel in this case.

The bike-sharing options offered by various start-up firms are seen by many riders as more attractive and—well, cool. One often sees young people riding these bikes, pausing to take a selfie, and then pedaling on. It’s also common to see young couples putting their child on the bike for a photo, and then getting back to their walk (or, in more than one instance, walking downstairs into the car park). Perhaps in many instances there’s a destination, but it’s clear that for some users, it’s just something to experiment with and post about. Whether riding public bikes will be incorporated into their daily lives is open to question, especially as these are early days for all where these ventures are concerned.

Of more local concern is where to park these sorts of bikes. An emerging problem is riders using bicycles to go to lunch or dinner here, and leaving them in front of restaurants, blocking sidewalks as well as entrances to adjoining shops. Already there are reports in larger cities of users leaving ride-sharing bicycles in authorized locations and city authorities impounding them.

As much as some observers want to frame this issue (as with so many others here) as about consumers and citizens and how they’re changing China, the bike-sharing initiative will come down to how the State reacts. One can easily see local authorities that have invested millions of RMB in their own public bicycle infrastructure deciding to launch campaigns to purge private competitors in the name of cleaning up the streets. Like many matters that seem new in Local China, this one may get rather old—and reminiscent of former times—rather fast.

Xi Jinping Doesn’t Want China To Rule The World, But He Wants More Consideration

There’s a lot being made about a speech China’s President Xi Jinping gave earlier this month—an important address at a noteworthy meeting on national security. According to at least one interpretation, Xi’s statements were worth a blazing headline: “Chinese president Xi Jinping has vowed to lead the “new world order.”

How unfortunate that’s how Xi’s words were rendered. Not for the first or fifth time, Xi’s meaning is being misconstrued--at least by people writing certain headlines.

As noted earlier in an exchange on Twitter, what the headline says is flat-out wrong. The phrase in Chinese cited in the article—“要引导国际社会共同塑造更加公正合理的国际新秩序” actually means that Beijing should work to guide [要引], not lead in the sense of take command and dictate or dominate. The Chinese language is full of terms which connote lead in an assertive way (militarily, for example, as in 指挥). Neither accounts of Xi’s speech nor the commentary cited in the article includes such statements.

To the credit of the writer of the article itself, he uses “guides” in his translation of what Xi purportedly said when he discusses the actual statements, though the tone of the piece as a whole is rendered as Beijing looking to take advantage of the United States, seeking to reshape global affairs. Graham Webster of Yale University’s Paul Tsai China Law Center does a nice job (perhaps off the original exchanges on Twitter) noting that there’s nothing in Xi’s speech to suggest China wants to subvert or suddenly restructure the existing international order.

There’s a lesson here. Nuance matters a great deal in official statements in China, and Chinese leaders (and officials generally) are nothing if not nuanced in the words they use. Words are actions in Chinese politics; cadres here at all levels read pronouncements with care and caution lest they stray from the established Party line. It does no one much good to hype what Xi and his comrades say (to be kind), simply to scare a readership or drive traffic to a website. The stakes are too high to be stupid.

But back to the meaning of what Xi said, because what Xi seems to be doing here (it does no one any good to be categorical either) in his address is actually quite significant, even if it’s not world-changing in the ways that some are portraying it.

Instead of re-subscribing to the dictum laid down by the late Chinese leader Deng Xiaoping that China should lay low until its capability was greater [韬光养晦,有所作为]—and the implication that Beijing should be careful about punching above its weight—Xi is signaling towards those here in China who’ve been arguing for a more assertive foreign policy that he’s leaning their way.

For some (particularly in at least parts of the Chinese military), a more emphatic approach means projecting strategic power beyond simply Asia, and doing that unilaterally. There are certainly different opinions in China’s armed forces on all sorts of issues, and Xi seems to be finally moving towards supporting those who want a more robust military posture—so long as they acknowledge the Party’s preeminence in making such decisions.

For others advising or making policy here, Xi’s words imply a China that will no longer free-ride on decisions made by other members of the G8 (for example, not opposing the invasion of Iraq but eager to criticize it afterwards, all the while reaping economic benefits from the war—transshipment fees collected on materials pausing at Chinese airports, oil price speculation). Xi expects that Beijing will be treated as a partner, instead of just another player; that China aspires to help mold the international order as it enters a new era. That was Xi at Davos and that’s Xi here.

No one can know at this stage how all that will play out; where Xi will end up after Beijing seeks to possibly move into policy space that Washington had been occupying previously and runs into opposition here and abroad, as well as the usual obstacles associated with global matters. And the Chinese political culture isn’t about equality but hierarchy, so there will be expectations by some here that what China wants to have happens, deserves to occur or else. In Chinese politics, leaning towards a view doesn't mean deciding that view wins at the end of the day. 

At this point at least, with his recent speeches, Xi seems to be telegraphing to Chinese officials—and others who are listening and reading with some care—that he’s very willing to move beyond even his predecessor in throwing over Deng’s concept of China being comfortable just to be in the same room, and making sure that Beijing is not only at the table, but being served. Xi isn’t interested in setting the building ablaze, and so those alleging otherwise need to stop crying fire when the only smoke to be seen is what they themselves are spreading. 

   

The Twain Rarely Meets Where China's Statistics Are Concerned

Today’s Financial Times tells readers that “growth in the cost of new housing in China slowed for the second time since contraction ended in 2015 even as prices remained substantially elevated from a year prior.”

From the standpoint of Beijing’s efforts to gain a firmer hand on the national housing market, that news sounds significant.

But is it accurate?

According to the Chinese leadership, no one really knows.

Earlier this month, a special symposium was held in Beijing, the title of which--“Opinions on Deepening Statistical Management System Reform to Improve the Authenticity of Statistical Data” [关于深化统计管理体制改革提高统计数据真实性的意见]—captures the core difficulty that officials here face in gathering and coordinating data, at lower levels as well as across bureaus and departments: that the statistics presented aren’t reliable. Authenticity, reliability, veracity—indeed, truthfulness itself—are all connotations of the term 真实性 [zhenshixing]. And they're features of what's gone missing when it comes to data in China.  

It’s worth noting that the conference was chaired by Politburo member and Vice Premier Zhang Gaoli [张高丽] and received front-page coverage in People’s Daily—clear indications that the statistical issue is a major challenge for Beijing in a way that it's not been before. In particular, Zhang cited Premier Li Keqiang’s previous plea “to ensure that the statistical data is true and reliable, to provide scientific support for decision-making and deployment for the country [坚持实事求是，确保统计数据真实可靠，为国家各项决策部署提供科学支撑].” 

In other words, China’s decision-makers aren’t able to make smart choices in a period of stagnating growth if they trust bad data, or mistrust reported information in general. A major challenge, according to Zhang, is that there’s dishonesty and a lack of accountability when it comes to figures reported to Beijing by local governments. That needs to be punished, Zhang argues—a strong signal that what’s passing for actual information is anything but.

This problem of getting good statistics isn’t new for China, as an excellent book by University of Toronto’s Tong Lam shows. What’s more recent though is the strange juxtaposition of well-founded skepticism about China’s figures by outside observers and, at the very same time, the propensity for some to rely on those figures without wondering whether they’re reliable enough to report in the first place. When Chinese leaders doubt the data, there seems ample reason for others to be skeptical.  

What could well be happening with these newest housing figures (at least on a macro-level, because the micro-level data in some cities is more convoluted even when it’s disaggregated) is that political pressure from Beijing prompted local officials to provide reports that aligned with the directives issued in recent months for cities to rein in housing prices—whatever it took.

It’s possible that Beijing’s policies are working to stop the steep price rises that marked many Chinese cities this past year. And the reports attesting to that success might be relying upon data that’s for once reliable. 

But it’s also entirely possible that the statistics that Beijing—and news reports are relying on—are confirming what more than a few government officials here already believe and are increasingly angry about: that figures lie, and that liars figure.