Month: January 2005

  • In praise of Google in China

    The BBC’s website is blocked but many international apartment buildings get BBC World. My colleague was watching the BBC in her Beijing apartment this morning when a report on Google’s agreement to censor key words and sites via its upcoming google.com.cn service aired. Needless to say, they were only moments into explaining how Google had agreed to meet Chinese content control restrictions when Nanny dropped the hammer on the Beeb, leaving legions of bewildered expats to wonder exactly what it was Google was doing with the Chinese authorities. Censoring of censorship news seems like one of those things that might cause the universe to collapse in on itself.

    For the record, Imagethief thinks that Google is doing the right thing, and taking a reasonable approach to the conundrum of operating in China. I have to confess some disagreement with RSF’s take-no-prisoners approach to complicity with the Chinese government censorship regime, despite my respect for them as an organization. I believe that American Internet firms should remain in China, but should take as many reasonable steps as they can to avoid putting themselves in untenable situations, such as turning over e-mail communications belonging to Chinese dissidents or journalists. As I wrote previously [note: this link now dead – WM], I think there are shades of grey in this situation, where the benefit of offering Chinese people more choice can be balanced against compliance with some of the Chinese government’s less onerous restrictions. Filtering keywords is bad, but it is not in same league as becoming an unwitting tool in the imprisoning of dissidents.

    As reported yesterday, Google’s approach is to post notifications that some content has been removed when search returns are filtered. It will also refrain from offering its “Blogger” blogging service and Gmail service in China, so as to avoid placing itself in a situation similar to Yahoo’s recently, when it was required by the Chinese authorities to turn over journalist Shi Tao’s e-mails. Those are reasonable steps, and, as someone who has been party to a few boardroom discussions (PR people get to be flies on lots of walls), I am willing to believe that there was substantial debate within Google as to the merits of proceeding down this path before they made a final decision.

    That being said, for any company with interests in China there will be no perfect defense. Once Google has an established business in China that they have a stake in protecting, the Chinese government will gain a degree of leverage over them regardless of whether google.com.cn in separately incorporated or where the mail or blog servers live. If the authorities wish to receive information on a Gmail user, they’ll still effectively be able to hold Google’s Chinese business hostage. What would be an interesting –and traumatic– test for Google would be how they would react in such a situation, where they have no obvious legal obligation (as Yahoo apparently did), but a clear interest in protecting their China business. That is a situation carrying substantial PR risk because the widely-used “legal obligation” PR shield, thin as it is, would no longer be available as a defense.

    As to why I support US Internet firms being in China, it’s a matter of providing choice for Chinese users, even if that choice isn’t as rich as what users in other countries would get. This is essentially what Google has offered up as an explanation, and I accept it. We need to be clear with ourselves what group we’re trying to serve by pressuring US (and European) Internet firms to withdraw from China. It certainly isn’t average Chinese users. Perhaps I see this issue through too much of a personal filter. (Perhaps all of us bloggers working and living in China do; we seem to have similar opinions on this issue.) I work with seventy Chinese colleagues, almost all of whom use Google to run searches as part of their work and 100% of whom use MSN messenger to chat with friends, colleagues etc. (Don’t ask me why; that’s what they like. I’m an AIM user myself.) I certainly wouldn’t want to be the person wandering around the office explaining that the MSN Messenger servers were no longer accessible to them because Americans felt it was inappropriate for Microsoft to offer it as a service to them as long as it meant following Chinese content restrictions. And I certainly don’t see how restricting them to Chinese Internet services only serves their interests, even though it may salve our national conscience.

    But, as I also wrote previously, US Internet firms need to be clear on where they draw the compliance line, without having to wait to be pressured into it or forced into it by a crisis. There does come a point at which the tradeoff is no longer worthwhile. Personally, I think it’s worth making concessions to content filtering to offer wider –if crippled– choice. But is it worth being complicit in the detention of journalists and dissidents? Answering at a personal level again, no. Google’s decision not to offer certain services in China is recognition of this division, even if it is imperfect and a bit risky. Other companies need to be clear where the line is for them, and explain it to their stakeholders at home. Otherwise we won’t have seen the last of this issue.

    Finally, some will be tempted to say, “they’re just doing it for the money!” Yes. That’s what listed, joint-stock corporations do, and what they should do, pursuant to sensible regulation. I’m not aware of there being any mystery or hidden agenda about that. From a business point of view it’s totally understandable that companies should want to pursue the China market. The fact that many do is directly responsible for Imagethief having a job right now (just so you are clear on my personal interest in this issue). But, at the same time, companies need to be consider what costs and risks beyond the obvious financial ones they are willing to endure to pursue the market here. And exactly what compromises they are prepared to make.

    Disclosure: Imagethief does not represent any company currently affected by Chinese Internet censorship issues. But he is damn happy Google is available in China. He is also awaiting the inevitable flames for taking the position stated above, and is aware that some bloggers he likes and respects feel otherwise.

    As always, personally I think censorship is abhorrent. But I lay it at the feet of the Chinese government, not Google, and I’d still rather have Google here than not.

    Other (blog) reading (various points of view):
    Peking Duck 1: His original post on this issue. Conflicted.
    Peking Duck 2: On Google fighting a US government subpoena. A double standard?
    Roger Simon (Via the Duck): Boycott Google.
    Rebecca MacKinnon: “Don’t be too evil.”
    Danwei: Keep cool…still.
    Fons: Yi koutou! Er koutou! San koutou!
    Life After Jiangxi: Agonizing…

    Added Jan 27th:
    Asiapundit: Dumb move by smart guys.
    Billsdue: Ka-CHING…Not.

  • Tiny and Xiao Xiong’s bogus journey

    Or: The Headlong Collision of Two Kitty Cats with the Chinese Bureaucracy

    In the run up to our move to Beijing, one issue loomed large: what to do with our two house cats, Tiny and Xiao Xiong.

    Now, I can hear you thinking, cats is cats. No doubt they can be had a buck a bushel on any Beijing street corner. And you’d be right, although, to split things finely, the Beijingoise are more partial to little, yappy dogs than to cats.

    Furthermore, you will be thinking, Chinese chefs are notorious for being able to conjure delicacies from the carcass of almost any animal. After all, kitchen-bound civit cats (not actually cats) were widely blamed for SARS and a stroll through any Chinese wet market will reveal that, with creativity, almost any creature can be stir-fried, braised or pickled in its own gastric juices. As the (possibly apocryphal) saying goes, if it walks with its back to the sun, the Chinese will eat it.

    However, I believe that refers to the southern Chinese, who seem to be more gastronomically adventurous than the northerners who populate Beijing. Although dog is an expensive delicacy in Beijing, most local restaurants offer little more exotic than mutton and eel. Considering I’ve had fruit bat and squirrel in Singapore, that is hardly anything to get worked up about.

    So I wasn’t really worried about my cats ending up in the stewpot. I was much more worried about animal import bureaucracy. After all, along with gunpowder, moveable type, paper money, neurosurgery, arbitrage, lip balm and the weather vane, the Chinese invented bureaucracy, and they’ve had four millennia to perfect it. When you consider that the national symbol of China, the Great Wall, is the world’s first government boondoggle, and it was an active project for 2000 years, it’s clear that bureaucracy here is world-class.

    My company had thoughtfully recommended a local real-estate outfit to help me find an apartment. I asked them if they could provide information on pet importation into China. “Not recommended” was their official advice. I had the receptionist at our office do a little more research, and her results were more encouraging. With the appropriate documentation and inoculations, and a small fee for veterinary examinations, it should be possible to import the cats.

    Meanwhile, my wife, Olivia, was busy researching the problem on her end. Singapore, it seems, has created a cottage industry to help expatriates get their fuzzy friends into and out of the country. After soliciting bids from a few such companies, she selected an outfit called Mitchville that claimed to be able to handle preparation of all necessary paperwork and inoculations and arrangement of shipping.  Mitchville also assured us that, with appropriate documentation, it would not be necessary to quarantine the cats in Beijing, but that they would have to be restricted to our apartment for thirty days.

    That was important to us. The idea of our cats in Chinese institutional care for a month was too horrible to contemplate. With our confidence thus bolstered, we decided to ship the cats to China to live with us.

    Naturally, it did not go well.

    First, Tiny sensed something was up and ran away the night Olivia left for China, forcing her to search the neighborhood to find him.

    Then, after an uneventful flight, the real trouble began. As I waited in the international arrival area with our driver, I got a call from a distraught Olivia. The Chinese authorities were going to impound the cats for thirty days. Mitchville had been wrong. According to the customs official that Olivia was speaking to, the regulations had changed just two months previously, and thirty days quarantine was now mandatory.

    While I waited helplessly outside, Olivia had it out with the customs authorities in Mandarin for an hour. She pleaded, cajoled, bargained, and made oblique references to “working things out” on the spot. It was all to no effect, and a morose and tearful Olivia emerged into the waiting area while an equally miserable Tiny and Xiong were packed off to Chinese kitty hoosegow.

    Well, what do you do in this situation? Call the embassy?

    “Consular services, how may I help you?”

    “Uh, yeah, the Chinese authorities are detaining, well, um, my cats.”

    “I see, sir. The ambassador has the gravest concern for your situation, and he will be in touch with the Chinese authorities immediately.”

    “Really?”

    “No, moron. Buy a  freakin’ clue.” Click!

    “Hello?”

    Maybe not. In fact, you do what we did, and call Mitchfield and read them the riot act and tell them to get their Chinese contact burning up the phone lines to find out what alternatives exist. We were pretty sure that thirty days in the Chinese hole would leave our cats dead or irreparably damaged, and Xiong, having been hit by a taxi in his younger days, was neurotic and spooky enough already.

    After twenty-four hours, Mitchfield came back with the goods. As always in China, everything was, in the end, negotiable. The cats could be returned to us immediately. There was just one obstacle: six hundred US bucks in cash, if you please.

    Once again, I can hear what you’re thinking. Six hundred bucks? Dude, it’s cats! They are practically free. Heck, ours are Singapore drain cats. They were free! That is, if you don’t count the thousands of dollars worth of lifetime vet bills, inoculations and the recent air-freight charges. But, then, why throw good money after bad?

    Because, ultimately, they were our cats. And, god help me, I love the obnoxious, smelly, little beasts. And I was moving my wife to Beijing and she was going to be studying full time in the house, and I knew the cats could make the difference between her feeling like she was at home, and her feeling lonely and isolated.

    So I barged my way into the Bank of China after closing time and wrestled the US dollars out of my account (no mean feat at the best of times). The next day Olivia handed it to a representative of the local moving company working with Mitchfield, and later that day two dirty, stressed-out but otherwise unharmed cats were delivered to our apartment. Net total detention: two days.

    Ultimately, I’m glad we brought the cats to China. Although we were rewarded for our efforts and expense with month of ungrateful complaints (we can’t go outside; there are no lizards to kill; this place smells funny; I hate you; etc.), they do make our apartment feel like home. And my clothes wouldn’t be my clothes if they weren’t perpetually dusted with cat hair.

    But if you are considering moving to China, and you ask my advice on bringing your pets, I have two words:

    Not recommended.