Ma Dugong: glad that we are all clowns in different makeup
Ma Dugong: glad that we are all clowns in different makeup
Opinion leader on the Chinese internet advocates for the disillusionment of elites and industrialized societal structures in his New Year's Speech.
Ren Chonghao, known by his pen name Ma Qianzu (foot soldier) or Ma Dugong (foreman), is a popular Chinese commentator on military and geopolitical affairs. He engages a substantial audience through various media platforms, with over two million followers on Bilibili, the Chinese equivalent of YouTube. His online video series, "睡前故事 Bedtime Story," has 383,000 followers on Weibo, the Chinese equivalent of Twitter, and 123,000 subscribers on YouTube.
This article, presented as a 2024 New Year's Speech at the annual conference of Guancha.cn, a Chinese news an opinion portal, was chosen due to Ma Dugong's impact as an opinion leader in China and his apt articulation of the sentiments prevalent among many Chinese people. In his speech, Ma advocates for the demystification of elites and industrialized societal structures, promotes the disillusionment of Romanticism, and urges the development of a new cultural paradigm that fosters realistic and collective creativity. He embraces a profound recognition already pervading the Chinese internet that society is a mere assembly of clowns in different makeup, highlighting how ordinary people feign their societal roles, each showcasing their unique strengths and weaknesses.
The original Chinese version of Ma's speech is available on Weibo and YouTube. The speech lasts over 30 minutes, so just to make it easier for you, I've inserted the section titles myself.
— Yuxuan
No Clowns, No Great Era
没有草台班子，哪来伟大的时代
Alright, everyone, let's save time and get started directly. Firstly, as a long-time employee of Guancha.cn, I want to thank everyone for attending our annual event. In the media industry, it's customary to select a Chinese character to summarize the entire year at its end. For 2023, I've chosen the character for "moss"(苔). It reflects a popular concept on the Chinese internet last year, i.e., we're all clowns in different makeup. Whenever a prominent figure reveals their vulnerabilities or an organization makes a fundamental error shattering their formerly perfect image, there will be comments suggesting that, after all, we're all clowns in different makeup.
Why are we all clowns in different makeup?
I have a schoolmate and fellow professional known as Plastic Fork(塑料叉FOKU). You might want to subscribe to her channel on Bilibili [the Chinese equivalent of YouTube]. Combined, Her two accounts boast 2.8 million followers, significantly surpassing my reach and making her one of the most influential figures from Tongji University in the media sector. In November, She released an annual summary video titled "The truth of the world is: most people are pretending". Another example is the Luogic TalkShow. It organizes New Year's speeches annually, and this year's speech is themed "The world is a bunch of clowns, but I am not one of them." Luo Zhenyu [host of the Luogic TalkShow] is a Generation X traditional media personality, while Plastic Fork represents a Gen Z social media influencer. Despite their audiences almost having no overlap, their summaries of 2023 have surprisingly converged.
This goes to show that the notion of "clowns" has already prevailed in the minds of the Chinese people. So I used 苔, the character for "moss" to represent the consensus formed in 2023 around the debates of clowns in China. [The upper half of 苔 represents "grass," while the lower half represents "stage." Combined, the phrase "grass stage" is the Chinese metaphor for "clowns."]
I believe there are two reasons for this consensus. First, China has completed its industrialization, narrowing the lifestyle gap between the general populace and the advanced groups. Science fiction writer Arthur C. Clarke was the first to suggest the idea of communications satellites in geosynchronous orbit. He posited that any sufficiently advanced technology is simulation. ["Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic."] In the early days when China had not yet completed its industrialization, we tended to look up to the industrial societies, both domestic and foreign, idealizing others' strengths with a halo effect. In recent years, as China has completed its industrialization, most people, especially those newly involved in industrialization, find themselves able to look at industrial societies, both domestic and foreign, on equal footing and objectively assess others' weaknesses and mistakes. Thus, we've discovered that we're all clowns in different makeup.
The second reason is that the internet's full penetration into ordinary workers has disrupted the perfect myth of the upper class. China now has a population of 1.4 billion, which is decreasing, but platforms like Douyin [the Chinese version of TikTok] are seeing an ever-increasing number of fans, with at least 700 million active users, possibly growing. Through the power of short videos, the last remainder of China's non-internet users have also been dragged into the digital age.
Thanks to the internet's ability to spread information cheaply, ordinary people can see not only the positive portrayals that the elites and celebrities choose to display but also share the opportunity to get a glimpse behind the scenes of these prominent figures that they themselves do not wish to show, prompting reflection on the prices paid to uphold a flawless public image. As the upper class loses its tight grip on media content, ordinary people cease to believe in the omnipotence of elite figures. The mistakes of these big names, once claimed as visionary insights or exclusive viewpoints, are now perceived by ordinary people as "clowning."
The Chinese people have made significant progress in both the internet and industrialization, bringing to light the ubiquity of clowns. This led to my choice of the character for "moss" to summarize the year 2023. After the publication of this choice, readers delved deeper than I expected, raising mainly two questions in comment sections. The first question challenged the premise of the notion: if we're all clowns, then there are no heroes, saints, or geniuses beyond the ordinary. Now, if there were never any heroes or geniuses, why would we call ourselves clowns? This question cannot be ignored for its remarkable logical strength. The second question is: if we are truly clowns in different makeup, why does human civilization persist in advancing? This historically nuanced question warrants a thoughtful response.
The answers to those two questions are what I'm going to focus on today. For the first question, simply put, the perception of heroes and geniuses is created by distance. The greatest distance humanity measures is that of astronomy. For instance, in January of this year, humanity achieved a minor milestone when NASA's Juno spacecraft flew past Io or Jupiter I, at a distance of 1,500 kilometers, capturing high-definition images. These images showed that Jupiter I's surface full of active volcanoes and looked quite unsightly like a sprouted potato. It is a giant moon that can be nearly seen with the naked eye on clear nights. When Galileo used the first astronomical telescope, he could confirm it as a moon of Jupiter. However, no matter the method, from Earth, it appears as a mere bright spot. Previously, humanity imagined what the bright spot looked like and named it Io, meaning a lover of Jupiter. But if Galileo had seen these clear images, he would surely have renamed it.
The distance within human society has a similar effect. In the past, when information dissemination was limited, ordinary individuals existed in relative isolation from other parts of society. Hence, witnessing someone's excellence in one area could easily lead to an inflated perception of their overall perfection. Therefore, in a world full of clowns, these exceptional individuals stood out as perfect heroes.
Another reason for the creation of saints is that when distance is too great, the human perception shifts. We tend to forego measurement and focus only on two-dimensional projection. Ancient people believed that the sun, moon, and even the stars were embedded in a celestial sphere and these closely spaced stars formed constellations. This perceptual distortion also affects our view of history, not as a linear sequence of events but as a mosaic of notable figures from various times, presented together in the pages of a history book. For example, luminaries from the Tang, Song, Ming, and Qing dynasties may be projected together, compressed in a slender volume.
Therefore, from the modern perspective, heroes and legends converge into a dazzling historical constellation that spans the face of the Earth. This perceived distance from their brilliance makes it seem as though we are situated in an era not of heroes but of clowns. In reality, we all know this is an illusion, as the stars forming constellations are much farther apart from each other than they are from Earth. Here, I referenced a video from Bilibili influencer, "Earth Brother (地球鸽鸽)" who used astronomical software to illustrate the shape of constellations in three-dimensional space, which bears no resemblance to the clustered stars we are used to. Were we to view our place in the universe from the vantage point of these stars, we would recognize that our solar system, too, is part of an awe-inspiring constellation.
The spatial-temporal relationship among historical figures is similar to these constellations: these notable individuals also lived ordinary lives, occasionally participating in significant events shaped by the currents of history before returning to their routine existences. They viewed history similarly to us, seeing themselves, albeit regretfully, as living among clowns.
In a word, the aura of perfection is a product of distance. Distance has the power to obscure flaws. Through visual errors, we learned of the dazzling constellations, leading us to believe in the existence of heroes and groups in distant lands and bygone eras, while dismissing the immediate world around us as a mere facade. Now, in 2023, the Chinese people say the world is full of clowns in different makeup. This isn't a new interpretation of our immediate surroundings, but rather a refined understanding of distance that corrects past sociological misconceptions This is the answer to the first question.
Stellar moments of humankind: the rise and shine of Romanticism
Regarding the second question: How can a society filled with clowns make progress? I'm reminded of a song from my junior school years in 1993, "Plucking Stars," by Adam Cheng (郑少秋). I still remember the lyrics:
让我实现一生的抱负
摘下梦中满天星
Let me fulfill life's grand ambition,
Pluck the stars from dreams' rendition.
Clearly, we cannot literally pluck stars from the sky, but what has motivated ordinary people throughout history isn't the stars per se, but rather the projection of constellations they represent.
I have personal experience with this. Growing up in 20th-century rural China, most children, including my classmates, had no clear educational aspirations. They just wanted to play, especially when we had just managed to secure basic sustenance. Yet, a single family member's success in altering their destiny through education would remarkably boost the educational drive among their siblings, cousins, nieces, and nephews, significantly improving their prospects of leaving rural confines. This is sparked by the introduction of an idea — a distant, ideal future made tangible by one individual's achievements for the younger generation.
Now that we're living in cities, we are all aware that modern life is far from perfect. The cities are packed with people who have just left the rural areas, people like us. At the founding of the People's Republic of China, Shanghai stood as the only industrial and commercial city in the country, where we are now. Other places, like former Japanese colonies, had some dilapidated factories but very few people. Over the decades, the vast majority of families in modern Chinese society can trace their roots back to farming within one or two generations. Thus, the perfect life that rural children look up to, along with the cultural narratives that depicted such existence, were crafted by people just like them. This is the logic behind how a bunch of clowns can rise to achieve remarkable feats.
The image of a perfect faraway place is, indeed, an embellishment. The mythical age of heroes, as often depicted, never truly existed. But as long as we believe in it, the society of clowns can also move forward, guided by the starlight. China's path to modernization was often propelled by external forces. However, Europe's journey was marked by internal momentum, where advanced social groups took the initiative to dismantle outdated ideologies. This transformative process corresponds to familiar words for the Chinese people:
The bourgeoisie, wherever it has got the upper hand, has put an end to all feudal, patriarchal, idyllic relations...It has drowned the most heavenly ecstasies of religious fervour, of chivalrous enthusiasm, of philistine sentimentalism, in the icy water of egotistical calculation. It has resolved personal worth into exchange value, and in place of the numberless indefeasible chartered freedoms, has set up that single, unconscionable freedom — Free Trade...All that is solid melts into air, all that is holy is profaned, and man is at last compelled to face with sober senses his real conditions of life, and his relations with his kind.
Simply put, this excerpt from the Communist Manifesto means that the bourgeoisie dismantled the myths of the old era, declaring to the world that we are all clowns in different makeup. It conveys that within Europe, there are no saints, and beyond its borders, no heaven; if ordinary people want to improve their lives, they must engage with a society driven by self-interest and do things naked, shameless, direct, and brutal.
This shift in ideology solidified capitalism but also eroded the dreams of the common people. A capitalist society fears nothing more than people losing their dreams and ambitions, as without dreams, there's nothing to sell, and without ambition, nobody would invest or start businesses. Capitalist society worries that once people realize this truth, they will simply "lie flat." Therefore, in response to this potential realization, society adapts.
After the Enlightenment and the Industrial Revolution, European society first turned to Romanticism. The works of Romanticism in the 19th century are characterized by a deliberate turn away from strict rationalism, venturing beyond the Enlightenment's clear-cut categorizations and portraying sublime moral values and ideal societies, or at least characters and deeds approaching such ideals. As for the settings of these fictional narratives, they could be in ancient societies, distant countries, the Church which Enlightenment thinkers had rigorously critiqued, and also the brave new future.
The optimistic or mildly optimistic science fiction from the likes of Jules Verne, along with early revolutionary literature from the Soviet Union, contains clear elements of Romanticism. These works inspire ordinary people to transcend their limitations and strive for something beyond clowning in capitalist society. China's comprehensive industrialization, which began in the 1950s, laid the groundwork for a cultural atmosphere by the 1980s that resonated with the spirit of 19th-century Europe. During this time, as the first generation of China's industrial workforce neared retirement, the literary landscape was rich with narratives that either celebrated revolution, a theme prevalent before the 1970s, or engaged in introspection about revolution, which became popular after the 1980s. Authors of this period often openly admitted the influence of Romanticism.
Today, I have brought to this stage an old book from my collection, published in 1987, titled 想到2000年 Looking Forward: 1987-2000. Its author, an esteemed editor from Shanghai known by the pen name Yu Xinyan [a homophone for "my true words"] is in reality Xu Weicheng, the deputy director of the Publicity Department of the Communist Party of China (CPC). This book played a pivotal role in shaping my childhood vision of the 21st century.
As a believer of Romanticism, looking back, I can now critically assess its influence, identifying an abundance of irrational elements that have adversely affected modern society. A notable consequence is that Romanticism has overly simplified the notion of escaping reality. For example, idealizing the past has cultivated a cultural obsession with retro trends. The excessive glorification of nature under Romanticism has also bolstered bad environmentalism, which hinders industrial upgrades. Furthermore, Romanticism frequently intertwined with religious themes, often standing in opposition to all secular life. From the 1980s to the early 1990s, numerous Romantic works contained such themes.
The second consequence of Romanticism is its depiction of an ideal society devoid of internal contradictions, fostering an unconditionally optimistic outlook that, paradoxically, has proven detrimental to modern societal reform by encouraging a form of nihilism. Look around: this rigid optimistic veneer from the 70s and 80s continues to gloss over contemporary government publicity, often characterized by the use of irrational slogans designed to mask societal contradictions. State newspapers in China have a habit of breaking into a new paragraph every two sentences or incorporating an exclamation mark after every few dozen words as if they cannot express themselves otherwise. Of course, it's probable you haven't read these newspapers in quite some time.
Ultimately, following the monumental shift from an agricultural to an industrial society, Romanticism still holds significant cultural value and serves as an essential source of inspiration for modern society clowns. If we hope for Chinese society to continue advancing, we must accept that cultural products will come with their side effects; insisting on purely positive outcomes would mean having no cultural creations at all. I hold onto the hope that each new generation of young people and every new generation of clowns get to have their own Romantic tales.
Nonetheless, the core issue with Romantic works lies in their inability to address the multifaceted needs that emerge post-industrialization. Prior to the completion of industrialization, the unanimous human focus was on fundamental concerns. If you mentioned city jobs to country folks, they'd jump at the opportunity without a second thought—no questions asked about where the work was. But once industrialization was completed, we were swimming in questions. So, ordinary people require a more rational approach to observing and critiquing society, in search of answers that, while perhaps not perfect, are imbued with hope.
As I mentioned earlier, the fundamental characteristic of Romanticism is its propensity to weave in abundant irrational elements, create perfect myths, and avoid real contradictions. So, it's no surprise that Romanticism became marginalized after industrialization. In the 19th century, both Europe and America saw the spaces once filled by Romantic culture being taken over by Critical Realism. As we say in 2023, Europeans and Americans realized the world was filled with clowns a century before we did in China. China's industrialization began later and unfolded slower, and, given the vast population, it wasn't until post-2015 that the whole society fully embraced industrialization. Finally, in 2023, there was a broad consensus that we are, after all, all clowns in different makeup.
In the aftermath of Romanticism disillusionment
The next question for China, after moving beyond the Romantic narratives and despairing after the allure of distant starlight, is how do we continue to inspire progress among us clowns? How do we continue to craft cultural works that transcend reality? While this is certainly a new question for all contemporary Chinese people, it is not entirely uncharted territory. We can look for answers in our textbooks.
Over a century ago, following the collapse of the Qing Dynasty, a segment of the intelligentsia harbored unrealistically optimistic hopes for the Republic of China. These hopes mirrored the pre-urban optimism of later generations, only to be dismantled by the harsh realities of warlord politics and imperialist aggression. In 1936, Lu Xun, one of China's most influential modern writers and thinkers, wrote a passage addressing the aftermath of Romanticism's disillusionment:
譬如勇士，也战斗，也休息，也饮食，自然也性交，如果只取他末一点，画起像来，挂在妓院里，尊为性交大师，那当然也不能说是毫无根据的，然而，岂不冤哉！
For example, a warrior fights, rests, eats, and naturally has sexual intercourse. If one were to take only this last aspect, draw a portrait and hang it in a brothel, venerating him as a master of intercourse, it wouldn't be entirely without basis. However, wouldn't that be unjust!
Lu has made it clear: abandoning perfectionism, focusing on the progressive nature of new endeavors, and appreciating what has been accomplished are key to gradually steering society closer to an ideal state.
Now, in 2023, ordinary Chinese people have clearly realized we are just clowns in different makeup. Let's not fantasize about reversing the consensus or building a new perfect myth; that's impossible. The only feasible direction is to align with the current level of societal understanding, embrace the notion that the world is, in essence, a collective of clowns, and then explore ways to foster its creative potential. The recognition and acceptance of reality is the first necessary step to change it, hence the choice of the character for "moss".
With this, the logic comes back to the second question raised by the audience concerning how a society of clowns can progress and produce a flourishing culture. While we haven't provided a clear answer, everyone who has gone through the college entrance exam in China knows the infallible method: simplify the question and eliminate incorrect answers before arriving at the correct one. Now, left with only one direction, we can continue discussing the feasibility of cultural prosperity created by clowns.
Earlier, I used the example of astronomical observation to explain that perfect myths are created by distance. Reflection on the history of science and astronomy reveals that debunking myths of distant perfection does not diminish human curiosity but rather stimulates greater creativity. In 1609, during the Ming Dynasty, Galileo created the world's first astronomical telescope. Prior to his discoveries, both religious figures and lay scholars held that celestial bodies were the work of a divine creator and that the principles of materialism were confined to Earth. Celestial bodies were seen as the epitome of harmony, in stark contrast to the tumultuous and chaotic human society.
However, through observations made with his rudimentary telescope, Galileo discovered that the Moon's surface was rough and uneven, sunspots marred the Sun, and Venus, despite its brightness, was not a flawless sphere but showed phases akin to those of the Moon. These revelations challenged the prevailing notions of a divinely ordered cosmos. In the words of 2023, Galileo's findings could be seen as a recognition that the universe is filled with clowns in different makeup and that the Earth's chaos is not an anomaly. Through this lens, his work suggests that as inhabitants of the cosmos, we deserve to study and even make physical contact with other celestial entities. This shift in perspective indirectly spurred centuries of technological advancements in Europe, laying the groundwork for today's space exploration technologies.
The principles guiding our exploration of the cosmos apply to the cultural realm as well: human advancement is always collectively forged by ordinary individuals. [As in the lyrics of The Internationale,]
There are no supreme saviors
Neither God, nor Caesar, nor tribune.
Producers, let us save ourselves
Decree on the common welfare
Cultural prosperity, birthed from the hands of the common people, doesn't wane with the dissolution of perfect myths. However, this realization introduces a paradox: it takes the creation of exceptional works to establish confidence in a society of clowns, yet the ability to create these works depends on transcending the ingrained belief that exceptionalism is rooted in myths. To navigate this dilemma, we must look beyond mere logic and consider specific policies for managing the cultural industry.
There's substantial scope for enhancement, such as the Ministry of Education initiating student tours akin to the Revolutionary Networking (大串联) [a nationwide movement of free travel for exchanges and promoting rebellion led by student Red Guards in 1966-1967] during the Cultural Revolution. These programs will enable students to familiarise themselves with a variety of professions and lifestyles before graduation, which could mitigate the anxiety associated with choosing college majors or preparing for graduate studies. Participating in widespread societal engagement bridges the gap between mainstream culture and campus culture; in fact, campus culture should not have existed as a separate entity. This integration enables individuals passionate about cultural creation to immerse themselves in creativity well before graduation, allowing for the development of rich and profound content during their most energetic and productive period.
Moreover, establishing national awards that celebrate realistic creativity is crucial, given that the foundation of nearly all distinguished literary and artistic achievements is reality itself. Without a basis in reality, it is impossible even to write science fiction, let alone other genres. A recent cultural embarrassment involving the opaque nomination of the Chinese novel The Space-Time Painter for the Hugo Award serves as a stark illustration. The difficulty China faces in generating quality science fiction, even for a manipulated award, points to the fundamental issue with the overall quality of realistic cultural outputs.
American movies depicting landings—whether peaceful, war-related, or on alien planets—often trace their inspirational roots to historical events like D-Day or the battle of Iwo Jima. Similarly, the repeated and vivid portrayal of the disintegration of modern society in Liu Cixin's "The Three-Body Problem" draws upon the massive layoffs of the 1990s in China. In 2009, the Chinese TV series "Dwelling Narrowness" mirrored the reality of soaring housing prices in Shanghai, then around 10,000 yuan [1385.16 U.S. dollars] per square meter. By 2023, even in Zhengzhou, prices have escalated to similar levels, amid a backdrop of widespread unfinished buildings, yet the current cultural landscape lacks realistic works capturing these developments. This deficiency indicates broader challenges in cultural production beyond just realistic creation. Addressing this problem requires a foundational shift to invigorate realistic creative efforts.
While my two proposals have been technical, they also delve into matters of perspective and attitude. While discussions on these themes might fit into an annual conference setting, they often result in conversations that are both lengthy and lack depth. Therefore, I'll proceed with some more technical analysis. Historically, it's often been clowns under the halo of heroes and saints that have created great cultural works. With the myth of perfect heroes debunked, the pressing question becomes how a society of clowns works itself out. If creation could once flourish under the guise of illusion, why should its absence hinder productivity? Recognizing that each individual possesses unique strengths suggests that outstanding works often result from collective effort. The synergy of multiple contributors, transcending time and space, compensates for individual weaknesses, fostering excellence.
A case in point is the evolution of classic Chinese literature, such as "Journey to the West" and "Water Margin." These works underwent at least dozens of revisions and enhancements from their origins in folk tales to widespread modern acclaim. Over the centuries, every clown writer and storyteller would refine these narratives based on market feedback. They streamlined complex sections, excised tedious passages, and reinvigorated the storytelling with new subplots and richer character depictions. Figures like Wu Cheng'en [purported author of "Journey to the West"] and Shi Nai'an [purported author of "Water Margin"] emerged only as pivotal creators after many such iterations. The modifications they and others introduced would also become subject to the test of time, with the most resonant elements being woven into the core narrative, laying the foundation for future creative endeavors.
Today, were it not for school assignments, most people might only know "Journey to the West" and "Water Margin" through their modern adaptations, such as TV series, rather than the original texts. For instance, the romantic storyline in the "Journey to the West" TV series mirrors the 1980s' culture of free love. Likewise, recent video games featuring the Monkey King seem to weave in narratives akin to 21st-century workplace stories. This ongoing evolution of our stories demonstrates that, with time, future generations will reinterpret "Journey to the West" in ways that resonate with their own experiences and societal norms, continuing the tradition of iterative storytelling.
This iterative process is similar to biological evolution and product upgrades in research institutions. To craft masterpieces, contemporary cultural industries must learn from the experiences of the ancient clowns and strive to surpass them. Looking back, these outstanding cultural works were able to undergo countless iterations and upgrades because they had two social backgrounds:
The luxury of time, spanning centuries, allowed the gradual amalgamation and refinement of ideas from thousands of individuals. While beneficial for enhancing a single work, this slow pace doesn't align with the rapid turnover demanded by today's cultural market.
The non-existence of copyright law historically meant that both original works and subsequent creative additions, once shared, became fodder for further creativity. This openness facilitated the testing and improvement of ideas, ensuring the best iterations thrived while lesser versions were discarded.
For modern society to sustain cultural vibrancy, it should promote the broad societal testing and adaptation of cultural works. This could involve cultural entities sharing their final products, drafts, and references online for public use and modification, leveraging the Internet's widespread reach. However, this approach obviously contrasts with current cultural industry practices. Open access to content could diminish box office revenues and complicate intellectual property (IP) income, as shared IP rights would necessitate revenue division.
In a scenario where copyright laws are lax or nonexistent, cultural enterprises and creators might lack the financial motivation to develop original content, potentially reducing the market to a few passion-driven individuals. This situation is far from ideal for fostering a state of cultural prosperity.
Practically speaking, finding a middle ground is essential. On one end, policies could aim for the complete liberalization of cultural copyrights, encouraging widespread derivative creation and innovation. On the opposite spectrum, stringent copyright enforcement could grant companies extended monopoly over their intellectual properties. The most pragmatic policy would navigate a path between these extremes, seeking a balance that fosters creativity while ensuring creators are rewarded for their efforts. A compromise policy, while not flawless, signifies systematic progress if it offers improvements over the current state.
All the world’s a stage: send in the clowns
After more than ten years in the cultural industry, I've identified two critical challenges. The first is the difficulty ordinary creators face in directly monetizing their content. Whether it's beautiful photographs, captivating videos on Douyin [the Chinese version of TikTok], or original music pieces, gaining viewership or likes is feasible across various platforms. However, turning these views into direct financial gain is tricky. While not impossible, attaching a clear price stage to your work is quite challenging.
There's also no easy way for another creator to use a portion of someone's work in their own project. Currently, there's no straightforward method for them to inquire about the price or make the purchase smoothly. As a result, independent artists, from myself to Li Ziqi, ultimately resort to influencer marketing for income. It is simply impossible to directly monetize one's cultural products in China, a systemic issue faced by content creators.
The second critical challenge is the overwhelming copyright protection wielded by large corporations. An extreme illustration of this is Disney lobbying the US Congress to extend copyright protection to 95 years. To put that into perspective, the Yuan Dynasty lasted only 95 years - an entire Chinese dynasty. This means Disney, by embedding its IP into popular culture, can reap phenomenal profits for nearly a century, spanning three to four generations. Only on New Year's Day 2024 did the earliest Mickey Mouse images finally enter the public domain. Such extensive copyright terms undeniably dampen grassroots creative enthusiasm. After all, the threat of litigation looms large for anyone considering derivative creation.
In China, there's a third and the worst scenario. Companies like Visual China Group (VCG) and the China National Knowledge Infrastructure (CNKI) monopolize cultural copyrights. They claim to represent ordinary creators and promising returns, but in practice, they are more active in levying fines than in distributing earnings. These companies can appropriate copyrights, provide negligible compensation, and even sell rights without the author's consent.
The last time VCG made the headline was when it fined the original creator for using his own photo. It's hard to imagine a more detrimental scenario than this - stifling creativity at one end and undermining copyright protection at the other.
Hence, I argue that China's cultural sector urgently requires reform to establish a copyright transaction system that is equitable for both original and derivative creators. At the very least, monopolistic practices by asshole intermediaries like VCG and CNKI, which hamper market liquidity, should never be allowed.
China's rapid economic advancement in recent decades offers two valuable lessons:
In commerce, preliminary steps have been taken to dismantle barriers across administrative regions, facilitating the free trade of products. As long as it's not against the law, you can sell your products anywhere at any price.
In technology, drawing inspiration from the U.S. model, a market of technology has evolved. When a company invents a new technology, it can seek a patent for its innovation. However, the patent application process necessitates full disclosure of the technology's details. Otherwise, a patent will not be granted. Over time, leading corporations have recognized that technology itself can be commodified, along with standards. Sharing patents can prove more lucrative than merely selling physical products. Hence, major players often break down their technology into distinct components, file separate patent applications for each, and then invite competitors to acquire them. Moreover, these companies encourage smaller enterprises to build upon their platforms and adhere to their standards. While the original innovator reaps rewards, the broader society benefits from enhanced participation in secondary development and industrial advancement. This collaborative model underpins the foundation of market prosperity in software and games, which surely offers valuable lessons for the cultural sector.
Therefore, China's potential approach to reform should prioritize two key aspects: firstly, promoting free trade; secondly, fostering derivative development and iteration, transforming existing mainstream cultural products into a wellspring of inspiration for the next generation of creators.
Specifically, I advocate for a dual-pronged reform strategy. Firstly, there is a crucial need to protect the integrity of cultural creation within the legal framework. It is paramount for the government to acknowledge, on behalf of society as a whole, that the world is filled with clowns in different makeup. Therefore, imperfections in cultural works should be viewed as normal occurrences. Embracing a stance of utmost flexibility towards cultural products is essential for nurturing cultural prosperity. Not every creation will resonate universally; some may contain controversial elements or face criticism due to the fallibility of their creators. Nevertheless, all such works should have the opportunity to be traded in the marketplace.
We are all clowns in this creative journey. Focusing on critiquing flaws instead of nurturing potential will never lead to remarkable cultural accomplishments. This principle is not only logical but also warrants legal validation. Embedding this ethos into legal frameworks is crucial to sustaining cultural prosperity.
The second prerequisite for a flourishing market involves establishing a public platform with minimal intermediary fees, potentially supported by fiscal subsidies from the state. These subsidies would be accessible to public platforms that offer essential transaction intermediary services for user-uploaded content. These services should encompass pricing, segmentation, product auctioning, bidding mechanisms, and plagiarism detection. In cases of infringement, authors should have streamlined legal recourse to seek compensation from infringers. Furthermore, creators should have the option to release their copyrights at no cost to gain recognition before pursuing profits. Platforms incorporating these functionalities would qualify for state subsidies.
In addition to overseeing societal management, the Chinese government plays a crucial role in safeguarding and promoting cultural assets. Beyond enacting legislation to protect the production chain and providing subsidies to reduce transaction costs, it is imperative for the government to set a positive example in cultural advancement and support clown creators. The Chinese government, mirroring Chinese society, should embrace a welcoming approach towards foreign cultures that incorporate Chinese cultural elements, embracing such interactions unless they are overtly disrespectful. Fostering an environment of openness in cultural exchange is essential, with a focus on avoiding accusations of cultural appropriation.
A significant announcement was made in December 2023 when the United Nations officially recognized the Lunar New Year as a UN floating holiday. This decision was supported by the Chinese Foreign Ministry, emphasizing that the Spring Festival transcends Chinese boundaries and is a celebration for the world. Noteworthy was the Foreign Ministry's use of "Lunar New Year" instead of "Chinese New Year" in English, highlighting a stance of cultural inclusivity and promoting diverse experiences of Chinese culture.
Furthermore, cultural resources managed by state authorities should be readily accessible to the public without restrictions. For example, content from People's Daily, as well as self-produced programs from CCTV (China Central Television, the Chinese state broadcaster) and CNR (China National Radio), particularly government publicity materials, should be easily downloadable and quotable. All forms of derivative works with proper attribution should be allowed and promoted. Presently, numerous government publicity films are not freely accessible on online video platforms. This raises the question: if the public cannot view these works for free, what is the purpose behind their production by the country?
Thirdly, applications that block access to search engine platforms or fail to support product trading functionalities should be denied state subsidies and face extra taxation. The public's voluntary content sharing has emerged as the most important channel for media distribution. This valuable resource should not benefit enterprises unwilling to contribute financially unless they make their cultural products accessible to the public. Companies such as Disney, which completely restricts copyrights and IPs, may operate within legal bounds but ought to be excluded from government-supported cultural projects. Entities that hoard cultural assets for exclusive commercial gain should be restricted from accessing public resources.
Finally, to foster a vibrant market for cultural products, it is essential to implement strategies akin to those seen in industrial and technological sectors. The goal should be to reduce the proportion of cultural offerings that are non-negotiable in the market. This includes establishing clear regulations on the production of cultural content related to historical subjects and determining who is qualified to create or adapt such content, ensuring a secure environment for business transactions.
Growing up, my readings on literary criticism often contrasted past sufferings with contemporary well-being, a theme particularly prevalent in the early 1980s. Authors critiqued the feudal society's control over literary creativity, such as prohibitions against opposing the emperor or challenging Confucian orthodoxy, and the mandate for a happy ending. They argued that these constraints stifled the depth of literary works.
We should definitely avoid replicating these restraints in modern China. Though my discussion today aims to inspire creativity, it introduces no novel concepts but a universally acknowledged truth and a historical pattern. The universal truth is the world is full of clowns in different makeup, a fact already recognized by the Chinese populace, which I want to further publicize to eliminate any remaining unawareness. The historical pattern is that the evolution of cultural products has predominantly been iterative, with creations continuously refined in an open intellectual property environment and tested by the market. This fundamental mechanism often goes unnoticed, with many attributing cultural prosperity to the exceptional contributions of geniuses, saints, or bygone eras of greatness. In reality, the essence of cultural evolution lies in relentless iteration.
While the principles I've discussed aren't originally my ideas, shedding light on them holds significance. Humans don't invent the laws of physics; however, dispelling the veil of mysticism by harnessing these principles can propel us toward swifter progress. Consider early humans: they may not have understood the theory of evolution, yet they practiced selective breeding. They chose the most favorable plants and animals for consumption, breeding the best specimens for future generations, thus cultivating crops like wheat and corn, and livestock such as fat pigs and Luhua chickens. They were applying evolutionary principles unknowingly. However, in their quest for abundant harvests, they often turned to prayer at temples, a practice steeped in mysticism.
Modern humanity advances biology through research instead of prayer, establishing specialized breeding institutions. In biological labs, microorganisms are manipulated within seconds, not only to save lives but also to enhance our food supply. This progress is achieved by fully leveraging existing natural laws, with the key requirement being the avoidance of mysticism.
Yet, the cultural industry remains shrouded in mysticism, with many in China viewing contemporary cultural creations through a mystical lens and placing creators on a saint-like pedestal. This misalignment explains why the cultural output in China fails to meet the everyday needs of its ordinary people. The disparity in the volume of high-quality content between the Chinese and English-language Internet is not marginal; it is vast, with Chinese content lagging significantly behind.
From a Marxist perspective, the economic base should dictate the cultural superstructure. Given China's status as the world's largest industrial nation and its vast internet user base, one would expect a correspondingly vibrant culture. However, the translation from scientific potential to practical application isn't always straightforward. Four centuries after Newton, how many countries have mastered the application of his laws in complex machinery manufacturing? 20? 30? This highlights a gap between scientific theory and product development—this gap is the realm of engineering. Success in transforming scientific laws into societal value hinges on overcoming both technical and systematic engineering challenges.
As someone who transitioned from engineering to the cultural sector more than a decade ago, I've observed a disconnect between contemporary Chinese culture and our industrial achievements. What I am sharing today, drawn from both my cultural industry experience and engineering background, aims to address this divide, hoping to foster a more thriving cultural landscape.
Over my more than ten years in the cultural industry, I've witnessed significant shifts in society, notably the rise of artificial intelligence in replacing many routine jobs. A humorous, yet revealing anecdote I came across recently involves major courier companies developing advanced unmanned delivery vehicles, which face an unexpected challenge: being kicked by human couriers when they cross paths. This story isn't just a fabrication. My first encounter with an unmanned delivery vehicle was back in 2017 at Shanghai Jiao Tong University. Fast forward to just last month, and these autonomous vehicles were actively navigating the streets of Suzhou, operating right alongside their human counterparts.
Witnessing the evolution of delivery methods from human couriers to unmanned vehicles and drones—a trend I've observed firsthand about seven or eight times—reflects a broader, unstoppable shift towards automation, mirroring how online commerce once outcompeted traditional stores. While the economic implications of this shift are vast, its cultural impacts are particularly significant in two key ways.
Firstly, the labor landscape within the cultural industry is set to transform dramatically. Jobs that rely on routine and procedural tasks are prime candidates for automation, so the workforce is going to be increasingly focused on creative roles. This shift will likely funnel more individuals into cultural creation.
Secondly, as the division of labor in society becomes increasingly complex, and traditional, tight-knit social structures are replaced by more detached interactions, the demand within the cultural industry is set to undergo significant changes. The proliferation of smart devices and automated services in the service sector promises to exacerbate feelings of isolation by enabling lifestyles that require minimal human interaction. In this evolving landscape, the role of cultural products that can foster new types of social connections and establish fresh consensuses will be crucial in defending against heightened social chasms and unrest. The cultural industry must keep pace with rapid changes in the real economy; systematic reforms in the cultural sector cannot be delayed.
New technologies have even begun redefining culture. Two decades ago, computer games, in their nascent stage, were largely viewed as trivial pastimes, not as legitimate forms of art or cultural expression. Today, they stand alongside music and movies as "The Ninth Art," especially in China, where the gaming industry has become a significant cultural export.
The evolution doesn't stop with games. Emerging technologies like VR, human microchip implants, brain-computer interfaces, and genetic engineering promise to bring about profound impacts comparable to, if not greater than, those of personal computers and mobile phones, heralding even more radical shifts in culture. For instance, the variation in sound frequencies audible to different age groups leads to unique ringtones for the elderly and children. Similarly, individuals' processing speeds for information differ, leading to preferences for varying video playback speeds. Cultural expressions also vary notably across different environments, evident in the diverse musical styles of nomadic and agricultural societies.
Looking ahead, the disparities among future humans will far exceed these examples. Within the next decade, it's plausible that some individuals will have chip implants in their nervous systems, enabling them to access information at the speed of computers. Over the next ten to twenty years, sensory modifications could allow people to perceive infrared or ultraviolet light or hear sounds beyond the current human auditory range. Such advancements might create cultural forms and perceptions that seem alien to us "old" human beings.
The cultural principles that have held sway for millennia may still be relevant in the near term but are unlikely to remain dominant indefinitely. As we stand on the brink of a new era, there's still value in enriching our existing cultural landscape. The closure of one epoch marks the dawn of another. The distinction between actively concluding an era on a note of prosperity versus passively witnessing its decline, as seen in the contrast between 19th-century Europe and China, is profound. Therefore, I advocate for revisiting historical insights, dispelling the illusions of mysticism, and harnessing the most effective cultural strategies. My hope is that, by applying these objective laws, Chinese society can once more cultivate a thriving culture for our "old" humanity as we transition into uncharted territories.
Our discussion today begins with the notion of "clowns in different makeup." This recognition marks a significant realization for the first generation of internet-native Chinese people: society, at its core, is essentially a vast collection of clowns. In 2023, we embrace and share this understanding, acknowledging the inherent clownish nature of the world.
This perspective reminds me of a historical anecdote involving Cao Cao and Liu Bei, where, amid brewing wine from green plums and debating the era's heroes, Cao Cao remarked on the glaring imperfections of others, confidently stating, "In today's world, only you and I are the true heroes." Similar to this moment of historical reflection, the Chinese populace in 2023 has come to recognize that the world lacks perfect heroes or saviors. Instead, there's a profound understanding that one must step up to be the hero in their own narrative.
Luo Zhenyu, in his New Year's speech, remarked, "The world is a bunch of clowns, but I am not one of them." I’d like to slightly modify his statement to, "The world is a bunch of clowns, but we are not." History is replete with examples where ordinary individuals, seemingly a collective of clowns, have come together to harness their collective strengths and creativity, resulting in remarkable achievements.
Therefore, the flourishing of culture hinges not on the clownish status of its people but on the system's ability to inspire them and on the efficiency of product iteration. As we stand on the threshold of significant technological advancements, I hope the Chinese people can implement one last systemic innovation, contributing a lasting cultural legacy for the forthcoming "new" humanity.
These are my reflections for 2024. Thank you all for your attention today.
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