Cultural wars: the parent trap

Last Friday night, a bunch of us journalists slash bloggers slash entrepreneurs -- and, in Shanghai, who isn't these days? -- were sitting around talking about cultural differences.

We had a guy from a Chinese province who had moved to Shanghai, who was worried about taking care of his parents. A young guy who moved to Singapore, who was probably trying to get away from his parents. An older guy from Taiwan who had moved to the U.S. before moving to Shanghai and who was very concerned about taking care of parents well, and me, daughter of Russian immigrants, who was planning to be taking care of her parents someday.

The guy from Taiwan said that a big difference between Asia and the U.S. is that Asians care about their parents. He mentioned something about "family values."

Now, we all know that Americans are prone to stick their aged relatives in nursing homes at the drop of a hat -- the horror! The horror! I was mortified when my American inlaws put their grandmother in a nursing home. I volunteered to take care of her myself, just to avoid the shame and embarrassment to the family.

I think they thought I was crazy.

I finally figured out why on Friday night.

For older generations, brought up in times of economic hardship, children are their survival -- the family is who will take care of you when you're old, or sick, or need money, or need a job. It makes sense that my parents would turn to me first if they needed anything like that.

But I, who grew up in the U.S., have no memories of economic hardship -- and no economic worries about the future. Sure, I'm worried that the Social Security problems might cause me to postpone retirement, but given the voting strength of the elderly, it probably won't be postponed too much.

I don't depend on my children for my survival. The only reason for my family to exist is to fulfill our emotional needs. After all, even if the worst comes to pass, and my kids end up in foster care, they'll still get food, shelter, and clothing. I have to do better than that -- I have to make sure my kids are loved, and cared for, and appreciated, and nurtured.

When I'm old, I'm going to want a good, close relationship with my children. I want them to love and appreciate and nurture me. But I don't need them to wipe my chin if I drool. Instead, I plan to hire someone who loves wiping drool to do that for me.

After all, there are plenty of people who get a kick out of caring for others. Doctors. Nurses. Home health aides. And, since they're caring for strangers, they get to go home at the ends of their shifts and leave the worrying for the next guy who takes over.

Children -- even caring, compassionate children -- would be worrying around the clock. I don't want them to do that, even if my children do grow up to be doctors and nurses. Which they've already told me that they don't plan to do.

So when I grow old, I want my kids to visit. A lot. I want to see my grandchildren and great-grandchildren. But I don't want them to have to physically take care of me, except to the extent that they want to, in order to help out.

So when it comes to the cultural divide, I'm straddling the economic barrier. On the one hand, I can understand where my parents are coming from -- and will do my part. My parents risked everything to get us to the United States. I owe them.

On the other hand, I've grown up trusting the broader society to take care of most of my physical needs. I'm comfortable with doctors, lawyers, police officers, bankers -- people and institutions that my parents are extremely wary of. I'd rather put my life in the hands of trained professionals than caring amateurs.

It's not a cultural divide. I share my parents' culture. I am shocked by how Americans treat the elderly.

But when I get older, I want to be treated American-style. Loved by my family. Kept alive by the pros.

Signing off in Shanghai,

Maria

International Channel Shanghai in my house

As I type this, a crew from the International Channel Shanghai is here at my house filming me blogging.

It's for a program on blogging that will run in the middle of March.

They taped five shows the day before yesterday, Friday, at their studio, but for some reason wanted to see me at home, and see my kids.

- Maria

Culture versus economics

As a business journalist, I'm a big believer in the power of economics. I'm also not a big fan of culture. Sure, it's fine when it comes to entertainment, but I don't trust culture as an explanation of behavior.

Many habits which are routinely attributed to culture can be better explained by economics. Take, for example, the issue of saving money. According to some people, saving money is a Asian cultural value, or a Chinese cultural value.

But saving money can also be attributed to economic forces -- recent economic problems, combined with current wealth and doubts about the future.

In the United States, we've seen high levels of savings after the Great Depression, for example, and with recent immigrants. My immigrant parents, for example, have a high propensity for saving money and being thrifty. I myself, having grown up in the United States, have no memory of hardship, and few doubts about my future earning potential. This creates a little bit of friction between me and my parents -- my mother routinely reminds me to save money and warns me not to waste it.

To some, this would be an example of the "cultural wars" between immigrant parents and their children. To me, it's just an example of the different economic realities in which we live.

Another example is career choice. My father was very concerned that I grow up to be an engineer. This is common for many immigrant parents -- as well as parents in China and India and other emerging economies. A couple of generations back, most American parents were very concerned about raising children to be white-collar professionals -- doctors, lawyers, and engineers. Personal fulfillment took a second seat compared to long-term income potential and career stability.

When I chose to drop out of the engineering program to follow my dream of being a writer, my parents were very concerned about the risks this career path involves.

In China, I also meet lots of young people pressured by their parents into careers that they don't want. This is often seen as an example of the Chinese cultural value of listening to your parents, or being conservative and not creative in making career choices. But if you go back to the United States in the 1950s -- not to mention the many examples of immigrant families like mine -- the same issues come up. How much risk is a person willing to take on?

I would say that children listen to their parents to about the same extent, regardless of whether they live, depending on how much of an economic impact their parents have on them. Today, in the United States, many parents tell their children to be happy -- to find a career that is fulfilling and rewarding, not just financially renumerative.

This brings me to yet another value that is often ascribed to culture -- the relative importance of personal happiness compared to family commitments.

Again, I feel that the basic issue is economic -- when the family is the primary economic unit, it makes sense to protect it at all costs. In underdeveloped countries, the family takes care of the sick and elderly, protects its members from physical violence, provides career training to children, feeds and clothes its members, provides work, and provides money. In a developed country, governments and private pensions take care of retirement, doctors and hospitals take care of the ill, police departments protect citizens against violence, schools and colleges provide career training, banks lend money, and restaurants and delivery services provide all the food that anyone would want, at any price point.

In a developed country, the role of the family is to provide emotional support -- to ensure that its members are happy and loved.

It makes sense for people in a developed country to ignore the wishes of a family that is pressuring them to do something that would make them unhappy -- including adopting a boring career, or marrying someone they don't love.

In an underdeveloped country, it makes sense to put personal fulfillment aside to take care of more pressing needs for physical and financial security.

In China, as with immigrant families in the US and Europe, the economic reality is changing very quickly -- and personal behavior is changing to keep up.

Ascribing the changing behaviors to changing cultural norms is a mistake, and often results in absurd reactions such as blaming US movies, music and television for the "declining cultural values."

The three stages of China consultants

This weekend, a friend asked me to tell him all I knew about consultants in China -- but to tell it quickly, since he didn't have much time.
My initial thought was to list all the consultants I knew. Management consultants. Business strategy consultants. Market entry consultants. Sourcing consultants. Quality consultants. Engineering consultants. Financial consultants. Human resources consultants. Marketing consultants. If there's a question you have about China, there's a whole consulting industry dedicated to helping you.
Then I suggested that he first check to see how long a particular consultant's been around. In general, a good rule of thumb is that the longer a company has been in business, the more likely it is to be offering something of value.
But then I thought about some of the oldest China hands I know, and I rethought my position.
The thing about China that makes it different from other places -- and what makes it more exciting -- is the rapid pace of growth here.
But as a result, some of the normal rules of business don't apply.
The people who were here doing business twenty years ago are not necessarily the people you need today.

THE WILD WEST CONSULTANT

I know a few guys who were among the first people to come to China. Some adapted with the times, and became very successful, running profitable businesses. Many did not, and are still trapped in the "Wild West" mindset. They see themselves as explorers, risk-takers and rule-breakers. They often go native, marrying Chinese women - or men, learning the language, studying the history and culture. They make much of their personal contacts and connections.

In the big cities, they've become mostly marginalized, hanging out in expat bars and telling stories of the old days. But in smaller cities, where foreign investors are just starting to come in, they may still be influential.

One such consultant even recommends in a book he wrote that foreign businessmen looking to find good local contacts should check out the expat bars.

I have to admit, I love these guys. They tell the best stories. But rather than going to the bars to find a consultant, foreign businesses are probably better off checking with their Chamber of Commerce representative or the city's economic development officials.

THE GOLD RUSH CONSULTANT

Unlike the Wild West consultant, who prides himself or herself on deep local knowledge and connections, the Gold Rush consultants think they're going to strike it rich just by showing up. They learn just enough Chinese to get by, and if they marry a Chinese spouse, it's more often than not a trophy marriage, with English the predominant language spoken at home.

The Gold Rush consultant is likely to have better business skills than the Wild West consultant, but the get-rich-quick mind set isn't very conducive to long-term success. This consultant may also be found in bars, but he or she is wheeling and dealing, not telling long stories of the good old days. Like the Internet dot-commers of a decade ago, these guys are looking for the big score, and often have no patience for the slow daily grind of real business.

In my experience, the Wild West and the Gold Rush guys have little to do with one another. The Wild West guys have no respect for the newcomers, who they think are here just to make a quick buck and have no real interest in China. The Gold Rush guys think the old-timers are crazy old coots. Both might well be right.

THE GROWN-UPS

At some point, even the successful Internet start-ups had to hire grownups to actually run the companies. The Internet was no longer uncharted territory, or a gold mine -- it was just business.

Today, so is China. Just business. In business relationships what counts more and more is the ability to deliver. A friendship might get you in the door, and a good sales pitch might get you that first deal, but in long term what counts is execution. And to do execution right takes serious business skill. For today's new breed of consultants, China might as well be any other country. Meg Whitman came to run eBay after a successful career in traditional retail companies. People used to say that the Internet changed everything -- and then they realized that it didn't.

China has followed a similar path as many other countries and industries and has now become just another global player. A significant global player, yes, but operating under the same rules as everyone else. It's the grown-ups turn now.

The Joys of Being Sued

Frivolous lawsuits are one of the banes of Western corporate life. Lawsuit artists walk through stores looking for puddles to slip in, sue restaurants for the coffee being too hot -- even sue people who try to save their lives during disasters.
The lawsuit artists -- and the lawyers who serve them -- are considered the bottom feeders, the carrion birds of civilized society.
But, like vultures and maggots, they also serve a useful purpose. They have a nose for rotting meat.
In some cases, they go too far, and eat live flesh. In the case of Good Samaritans, for example, there are now laws in many jurisdictions protecting people who make a good faith effort to help others in emergency situations.
But take the example of the $2.7 million lawsuit against McDonald's alleging that the coffee was too hot. It's widely considered the poster child of frivolous lawsuits. But the facts of the case – including massive third-degree burns, eight days of hospitalization, and skin grafts that the victim suffered demonstrate that there was actual substance to the case. In addition, McDonald's produced documents demonstrating over 700 similar complaints. The company also admitted that it maintained coffee temperatures at dangerous levels, higher than other restaurants, despite the fact that it knew that many of its customers would drink the coffee immediately after purchase -- or in cars, when buying at drive-throughs.
The final amount of the settlement was eventually reduced a bit on appeal, but the main consequence of the case is that McDonald's reduced the temperature of its coffee so that it would no longer scald its customers.
One breed of lawsuit artist is the slip-and-fall conman or conwoman. They trawl retail locations looking for wet floors or cracks in cement, then sue the parties responsible.
As a result, the phrase "clean up in aisle six" has become a common refrain for the public announcement systems in supermarkets and department stores around the world.
But here, too, these lawsuits serve a social purpose. For every conman who slips and falls and sues the company for a trumped-up claim, there's now a store that monitors its floors with a keen eye – and any number of real little old ladies are not slipping and breaking their hips.
When I lived in Moscow ten years ago -- again, I'm not commenting about China here -- winters were a nightmare for little old ladies. My neighbors were virtually housebound all winter, since all sidewalks and streets were permanently covered with ice. It was common to find open manhole covers, unfenced construction sites -- and don't even get me started on medical malpractice.
The general feeling was that if you fell down a manhole, it was your own fault for not watching where you were going. So people watched where they walked. This meant that you did not want to walk around at night, or while drunk, or even while engrossed in conversation with a friend.
Civil lawsuits, in the long run, protect consumers.
But, these lawsuits, even frivolous ones, can also protect companies.
A lawsuit might expose staffing problems or safety issues or management malpractice.
A frivolous lawsuit is usually easier to deal with -- since the case has no actual merits, the lawsuit artists is often willing to settle for a small settlement. But it also exposes problems that could lead to a larger, potentially more significant lawsuit in the future.
For example, an employee who sues over wrongful termination may expose a problem with dispute resolution at a company, and may inspire a firm to include a process for mediation in its employment contracts, and, perhaps, a provision for binding third-party arbitration in case of problems that would otherwise go to court.
Lawsuit artists go after low-hanging fruit -- the companies who don't clean up their wet floors. They're an early harbinger of worse problems to come -- or an early warning bell for companies to clean up their acts.
In other words, if you're seeing vultures circling overhead, maybe it's time to get out of the desert and back to civilization.