Darker, Deeper: Uriel in China 2002

(see also Uriel in China 2000: Western Teacher, Chinese College)

 

DEATH THREATS, CONTRACT BREACHES, PETTY LARCENY

Inside China's Diplomacy School

by Uriel Wittenberg

 


About the Author

Uriel Wittenberg (uw@urielw.com) has spent three years teaching at Chinese universities, including one year at Tsinghua University, one of China's most prestigious universities. He has also worked as an editor at China's well-known Crazy English Magazine.

Prior to living in China, Wittenberg, 46, worked as a computer software consultant in major corporations including J.P. Morgan, National Grocers and National Broadcasting Corporation. He has a Bachelor's degree in computer science from University of Toronto, and a Master's in public policy from Carnegie-Mellon University.

Visit Uriel at http://urielw.com


Contents

Introduction

1. Darker, Deeper: Uriel in China 2002

2. The Cloudless Sky

3. Exploitation and Dissent

4. Anonymous Complaints

5. Modern Handicaps, Timeless Injustice

6. Vacuous Diplomats

7. Guilty Interlude

8. Monday Mumbo Jumbo

9. Social Harmony

10. Rousing the Recalcitrant

11. Fukien Frazzlement

12. The Subtle Diplomat

13. Applauding Banality

14. Update on Xia Guangzhi!

15. Freedom versus Valor

16. No Free Lunch

17. Pain in the Chest

18. Uncertain Clouds Gather

19. My Goals

20. The Tender Trap

21. China and the Foreign Country

22. Values

23. Discovering Discontent

24. Discontent Denied

25. Discordant Data

26. Free-For-All

27. Girls, Boys, an Ignorant Doctor

28. Equal Friendships

29. A Chinese Phenomenon

30. Halloween Howl

31. Kafka, Iago, Mind Control, Immorality, Tramphood, Relativism, Mixed Horses, CIA

32. Groupthink at FAC

33. Falseness to Self and Others

34. Party!

35. A Letter by Post

36. Trajectories Unchanging

37. Cultural Commonality

38. Cherry Tops Off Death Threat (Courtesy of Wang Yan)

39. Speechless Diplomats

40. More Bile From a Once-Reticent Chinese Girl

41. Appeals to Presidents

42. Feeling (Partially) Neglected

43. My Western Colleagues

44. The Fulbright Scholar

45. The Last Class

46. Charlotte Bronte, Patsy Cline and Me

47. Corruption

48. Shriek Cessation

49. Dilemma

50. Unemployment

51. Perspective

52. Legal Advice

53. The Enemy

54. Rules, Contracts, Chinese Modernization

55. Canada to the Rescue

56. Good News

57. Seeking Truth

58. Canadian Embassy Serves Client

59. Seeking Private Resolution of a Sensitive Matter

60. Public Resolution of a Sensitive Matter

61. Light vs. Dark

62. Pariah

63. More Ugliness Surfaces

64. The Contract

65. Chinese Legal Gladiator to the Rescue

66. Reflecting on the Western Difference (Part 1)

67. Reflecting on the Western Difference (Part 2)

68. Reflecting on the Western Difference (Part 3)

69. Reflecting on the Western Difference (Part 4)

70. French Restaurant

71. Rights Trampled

72. Justice Delayed

73. An Abiding Mystery

74. Decision from the Ontario Superior Court

75. Lone Man Left Unpersuaded by Superior Court

76. No Contrition on Ketcheson

77. The Law Society of Upper Canada

78. Defending Inequality

79. Moving On

80. Final Warning

81. Preparing Submission to Arbitrator

82. Incurious Fulbright Scholar

83. Submission to Arbitrator

84. The Chinese Perspective, Explained At Last

85. Lawyers For Rent

86. Arbitration Preliminaries Dawn

87. The Mediation Option for Foreign Experts in Contract Disputes

88. After the Plunge

89. The Press

90. The Secrecy Instinct

91. Short Version

92. News that Soothes

93. How Much "Opening Up"?


 

Introduction

I was an instructor at the China Foreign Affairs University in Beijing, China's diplomacy school, from September to November, 2002. The experience is described in a series of 93 letters I sent (via email) to a list of 75 people from December, 2002 to May, 2003. The assembled letters appear below.

Note: The letters refer to the China Foreign Affairs University by its name at the time the letters were written -- "Foreign Affairs College," or "FAC."

1. Darker, Deeper: Uriel in China 2002

Sent: Tuesday, December 10, 2002 4:54 AM

My first China story (http://urielw.com/china), two years ago, could be viewed as a bit of a roller coaster ride. There were some thrills and chills. A bad guy was featured in the form of a petulant young woman, not yet out of her teens, guilty mainly of immaturity. University administrators would occasionally appear whose expedients might excite demurrals from idealists. There were vomiting episodes here and there.

This year, folks, we enter a different realm. We have left the amusement park altogether, and it would not be amiss for you to buckle your seatbelts. My new China story is truly a journey into the heart of darkness, with treachery and malfeasance writhing under every rock and behind every construction crane.

My story has SEX -- or at least, definite intimations thereof. It has violence and murder -- or at any rate, indubitable threats to commit same. It has hypocrisy, cursing, rebellion, dementia, mass hysteria, and sly manipulators pulling strings behind the scenes. You will also witness flagrant breaches of contract. And just yesterday (the story is ongoing), we had petty theft by a devious sycophant.

It is possible that there has also been a virtually omnipotent force rumbling through subterranean passages of this tale, although your narrator's limited perspective precludes a rendering of this subplot. Our setting is a university with unique significance for the nation, and the Communist government may not be indifferent to these proceedings.

For comic contrast you'll also be given a peek at the gibbering functionaries of the Canadian Embassy.

This is not fiction, and I will put you on notice right now that several loose ends will remain unresolved at our conclusion. There are mysteries here I've been unable to penetrate, despite determined efforts. But it might be unwise to sniff at my inquisitorial skills if you have not operated in this culture.

The backdrop for all this action is again CHINA -- whose rise, the Dec. 2 New York Times reminds us, may be "the most important long-term trend in the world."

One other thing remains unchanged: the author, yours truly, who has preserved his partiality for the simple truth, and his contempt for saccharine illusions.

2. The Cloudless Sky

Sent: Monday, December 23, 2002 12:44 AM

I contracted last May, while still teaching at Tsinghua University, to teach at Beijing's Foreign Affairs College (FAC) for the 2002-3 academic year. FAC is a small but unique university in China, described by its website (http://www.fac.edu.cn/eindex/overview.htm) thus:


The Foreign Affairs College (FAC), affiliated to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the People's Republic of China, is an institution of higher learning aimed at preparing high calibre personnel for foreign service, international studies, and other careers related to international business and law....

The College was founded in September 1955 at the initiative of the late Premier Zhou Enlai. Since then, the government leaders have accorded great care to the development of the College. Marshal Chen Yi, then Vice Premier and Foreign Minister, was concurrently President of the College between 1961 and 1969. Premier Zhou Enlai and Vice Premier Chen Yi made a number of inspections of the College in the fifties and sixties. In 1995, on the occasion of its 40th anniversary, President Jiang Zemin, Premier Li Lanqing and other state leaders wrote congratulatory inscriptions for the College....

Over the past four decades, the Foreign Affairs College has followed the code of conduct for foreign service personnel, formulated by Premier Zhou Enlai, as its guidelines in education, which reads: "Unswerving loyalty, mastery of policy, professional competency and observance of discipline." The College aims at providing the students with an all-round education which will upgrade their ethical and intellectual qualities as well as physical conditions. The College lays emphasis on integrating theory with practice, and nurturing among the students a style of study based upon seeking truth from facts. The pedagogical objective is to enable the students to develop a comprehensive intellectual capacity, including foreign language proficiency, professional knowledge , and analytical and research abilities. Ethically, the students are encouraged to cultivate their outlook on the world, life, and values; to understand the nature of socialism, foster patriotism, esprit de corps, and a sense of discipline.

In recent years, the Foreign Affairs College has made earnest efforts to implement President Jiang Zemin's instructions embodied in his congratulatory remarks written for the 40th anniversary of the College, gearing its operations to "serve the needs of the nation and open itself to worthy talents." It has also followed the guidelines put forth by Vice Premier and Foreign Minister Qian Qichen, to orient its teaching to the needs of the outside world, the future and the society....

With China's opening to the outside world and deepening reform, the Foreign Affairs College has established contacts with institutions of higher learning of many countries, including the United Kingdom, the United States, France, Russia, The Ukraine, Canada, Australia, Japan, The Republic of Korea, Oman and Mongolia. Exchange programmes between the FAC and foreign institutions take a variety of forms. In addition, the College has an international speakers programme which attracts many well-known scholars, world-renowned statesmen, ambassadors, and other senior diplomats....

Over the past 40 years, the Foreign Affairs College has turned out more than 10,000 graduates, of whom more than 120 have served in the capacity of ambassadors and several hundreds counsellors in Chinese embassies abroad or directors of government departments or agencies; more than a dozen have been charged with ministerial responsibilities; and over 200 are professors or scholars with senior professional titles.


FAC seemed more suited to the socio-political-legal themes of my teaching than Tsinghua (China's supreme science university), so it was with positive anticipation that I returned to Beijing late last August, after a summer holiday in Toronto.

We were comfortably housed, my FAC colleagues and I, in what would be a "luxury condo" in Toronto. My circumstances in my successive China jobs were continuing to improve: I'd started two years earlier in the seedy "Shooting Hotel," remote from everything in Beijing other than the scenic mountain attractions known as Fragrant Hills and Badachu. I'd advanced the following year to ample though dilapidated quarters in the midst of the Tsinghua campus's lovely parks and lakes. At FAC I was now housed in a modern one-bedroom suite on the 7'th floor of a newly built building with an elevator.

Tsinghua had been in the Haidian district, an area in the northwest of Beijing which is home to many universities. Beijing University, China's other premier university, was a 5-minute bike ride from where I was living, and many other universities were also nearby. This advantage of Tsinghua was countered, in my new home at FAC, by FAC's proximity to the city centre. I could bike to Tiananmen Square and other attractions in the core of the city in 30 minutes. And although the tiny campus was not itself particularly appealing, I could occasionally visit the pleasant Yuyuantan Park to the west or Houhai Lake (tangentially connected to later troubles) to the east.

I had seven 90-minute classes weekly:

- FAC's third-year undergraduate law students (divided into 2 classes);

- FAC's second-year diplomacy students (divided into 2 classes). These students already have a 4-year bachelor's degree and are completing a second bachelor's degree which is of 2-years' duration.

- FAC's first-year, part-time, continuing education students (divided into 2 classes). These students have completed a 2- or 3-year diploma and are beginning a 3-year, part-time supplementary program leading to a Bachelor's degree in English.

- FAC's first-year, full-time continuing education students. These students have completed a 2- or 3-year diploma and are beginning a 2-year, full-time supplementary program leading to a Bachelor's degree in English.

The first-year, full-time continuing ed class was the only large class, with about 45 students. The other classes had only 15 to 20 students each. As in my two previous China teaching jobs, I based my teaching on reading materials I'd select -- typically New York Times articles, sometimes classic literature, occasionally other things.

My students' eyes were opened to important American public issues and controversies they'd had no idea about. And we didn't just gloss over them. We'd examine details of the conflicting positions of various parties -- their interests and motives, the logic of their arguments. There were universal lessons being learnt about both public affairs and logical reasoning.

I don't think it'd be a bad idea if there were more of this type of thing in the normal undergraduate diet, not just in China but everywhere. There might be more hope for the world if its citizenry were more enlightened about these things. But this kind of subject matter does not actually fit directly into any academic discipline. It's not "serious" enough -- there's no priesthood, no technical argot, no barriers to entry to stop any wise guy from threatening the established hierarchy.

Still, it's possible for a teacher to circumvent academic propriety and pursue useful and instructive stuff like this. He/she simply has to go to China (as a Westerner) and get a job teaching courses with innocuous-sounding titles like "Topical English."

I tended to choose readings in which the meaning was (1) not self-evident, yet (2) unmistakable once explained. The students' initial interpretations were almost invariably wrong. This brought them an additional insight which I think should be widely conveyed to students everywhere: how fallible they are; how prone to misconception; and the importance of reflection, if the objective is truth.

I don't think I flatter myself unduly in thinking my classes were exceptionally stimulating for my students. I received a fair amount of positive feedback, often mentioning my "strictness" and their "nervousness" in my classes. It seemed that my penchant for demanding full attention during the 90 minutes we spent together weekly, combined with my expectation that they actually engage their brains rather than merely regurgitating what I told them, was something quite extraordinary in their experience. These are excerpts from (unsolicited) emails sent by various students:


I think you
are very kind, intelligent and smart.although
sometimes we felt nervous in your class.we do learn a
lot in your class by working hard.

--------------------------------------------------

Your questions are effictive and active!they make us thinking all the time in your class.we run our head for your questions.so every time some students say,i feel nervious in the class.that is good .those quastions take our attentions to your class.

--------------------------------------------------

Maybe some of
us feel nervous in your class.... I think it is very
chanllenging for us, and we have to be always alert, and smart in your class, but I think that is OK, and we could learn a lot in your class.

--------------------------------------------------

you are quite an interesting teacher,although you are very strict with us.In class,you make us answer the questions with such a high accuracy.Sometimes I think I'm not having a discussion class but a calculating course.Anyway,I will try to be a more logical student at the end of this semester. I think you are a responsible teacher.If there is anything I can help,just let me know.My cell phone is ....

--------------------------------------------------

I think I can learn a lot of interesting things in your class. Your lesson is very good and your explain to the article is logical. I enjoy it very much.

--------------------------------------------------

I personally regard you as the brain among the teachers. frankly say, I learn a lot from you-the way of thinking, the way to argue and the way to fight back... I enjoy u class.

--------------------------------------------------

To be frank,you're a
really persuasive teacher.I like to argue with you in class,because every time
I can learn a lot.It's my luck to have a unique teacher as Uriel^.^


As late as an idle weekend in early November I could think: "I feel almost like a king in this place." I'd biked on impulse to another university nearby and accosted a trio of girls -- total strangers, 18-year-old undergrads -- and chatted with them for several minutes. They were friendly, interested, totally trusting. One of them, more forward than her friends, gave me her phone number and offered to show me around her university.

Recounting this later to some FAC colleagues, we reflected on how, in the grossly polluted culture of the U.S, this would never happen in a million years. They joked that I'd probably be arrested just for approaching the girls. They were Americans, Mormons, conservatives, they probably voted Republican -- in other words, we had totally different values -- but on this, an obvious contrast between China and the U.S., we could agree.

Life was good here. The work was stimulating and enjoyable; my students knew they were getting something unique and were appreciative; I'd discovered some really good local restaurants. Everything was generally quite pleasant.

How could I foresee the crash landing? The peremptory eviction from my comfortable quarters (not to mention the brief but obligatory exit from the country)? The downturned heads, the frowns, the carping and the sneers? And most of all, the absurd breadth of the opposition?

3. Exploitation and Dissent

Sent: Sunday, December 29, 2002 3:49 PM

"Suits Say Wal-Mart Forces Workers to Toil Off the Clock" (New York Times, June 25, 2002) was one of the articles I did with my 3'rd-year law students at FAC. It's summarized by the opening paragraphs:


KANSAS CITY, Mo. -- After finishing her 10 p.m. to 8 a.m. shift, Verette Richardson clocked out and was heading to her car when a Wal-Mart manager ordered her to turn around and straighten up the store's apparel department.

Eager not to get on her boss's bad side, she said, she spent the next hour working unpaid, tidying racks of slacks and blouses and picking up hangers and clothes that had fallen to the floor. Other times after clocking out, she was ordered to round up shopping carts in the parking lot.

Some days, as soon as she walked in a manager told her to rush to a cash register and start ringing up purchases, without clocking in. Sometimes, she said, she worked for three hours before clocking in.

"They wanted us to do a lot of work for no pay," said Ms. Richardson, who worked from 1995 to 2000 at a Wal-Mart in southeast Kansas City. "A company that makes billions of dollars doesn't have to do that."

But she and 40 other current and former Wal-Mart workers interviewed over the last four months say Wal-Mart has done just that, forcing or pressuring employees to work hours that were not recorded or paid. Federal and state laws bar employers from making hourly employees work unpaid hours. Wal-Mart's policies forbid such work. But many current and former workers and managers said an intense focus on cost cutting had created an unofficial policy that encouraged managers to request or require off-the-clock work and avoid paying overtime.

Accusations like these are at the heart of a wide-ranging legal battle between Wal-Mart and employees or former employees in 28 states. In class-action and individual lawsuits, workers assert that these practices have helped Wal-Mart undersell the competition, push up profits and become the world's largest retailer.


As it turned out, this story strikes a chord in China, where cheating employees out of overtime pay (which is illegal in China as well as the U.S.) is apparently common practice.

The article also offered this affecting anecdote:


Every morning at 6, Liberty Morales arrived at Wal-Mart No. 2066 in Houston to stock the store's restaurant with hot dogs, buns, chips and soft drinks. She said it was often two hours before she clocked in.

At 5 on many afternoons, Ms. Morales said, the store's payroll manager phoned to tell her to clock out. But she did not go home; the store manager, she testified in a deposition in the Texas lawsuit, ordered her to keep running the restaurant for another hour or two because nobody else could do it.

"They would call me and say, `You need to clock out,' " Ms. Morales said in an interview. "I knew I had to go back and work after clocking out. There was no way the grill could continue operating with no one there to run it."

Ms. Morales said she knew better than to resist the demands because she had heard that those who complained were often fired, given fewer hours or put on overnight shifts. "I put up with it because I needed to work," said Ms. Morales, a 28-year-old mother of three who worked for Wal-Mart from 1996 to 2000.

Like many Wal-Mart workers, Ms. Morales has only a high school education and limited job skills, giving her few options better than Wal-Mart's.

She earned $9.50 an hour and usually worked 50 to 55 hours each week. Occasionally, she said, the store manager paid her time-and-a-half for a few hours, "but most of the weeks, I didn't get overtime."


It's probably all true. But I was teaching skepticism and critical thinking, so students had to consider that the defense's viewpoint was not totally implausible:


Wal-Mart officials insist that the off-the-clock phenomenon is minimal considering that the company has 3,250 stores and a million employees in the United States. The officials say the company, based in Bentonville, Ark., has a strong policy against such work, a policy that is spelled out in the handbook distributed to every employee.

"Off-the-clock work is an infrequent and isolated problem, which we correct whenever we become aware of it," said William Wertz, a Wal-Mart spokesman. "It is Wal-Mart's policy to pay its employees properly for the hours they work." [...]

Wal-Mart officials played down the extent of unpaid work by saying that employees often came forward to complain only after calling toll-free numbers that lawyers had established to seek information about off-the-clock work.

"Off-the-clock work is not prevalent at Wal-Mart despite the determined efforts of a few plaintiffs' attorneys to make it seem so," Mr. Wertz said.

Company officials note that few people have filed complaints about off-the-clock work with federal and state regulators.


These are telling points. The Times could easily enough verify whether it's true that employees get a handbook saying unpaid overtime violates policy. Is the policy clearly and simply spelled out? Is there a workable procedure for employees to address violations?

And where did the Times find those 40 employees it interviewed? Were they selected from among the plaintiffs (a biased sample)? Are we talking about 40 people out of a million -- maybe people coached to lie by ambulance-chasers who hooked them with toll-free ads?

And why would so few employees report such violations to regulators if the problem is indeed widespread? One would think even lowly, uneducated workers would know that unpaid overtime is illegal.

The article mostly ignores these natural questions, but does offer:


John Fraser, who ran the Federal Wage and Hour Administration for 11 years before retiring last year, said it was unlikely that the small number of complaints indicated anything about the pervasiveness of unpaid work at Wal-Mart. Workers, he said, are often reluctant to complain to the government, fearing they might lose their jobs if investigators contact their employer.

Mr. Fraser noted that even though few workers had filed complaints against Food Lion, the supermarket chain, the Labor Department, in an investigation a decade ago, found pervasive off-the-clock violations.


Is regulation really so ridiculous in the U.S. that poor workers have to risk their livelihoods to report breaches of such basic rights? There's no mechanism for anonymous complaints?

Again, the Times is mute. But it was another question for students to consider.

It would be especially brazen of Wal-Mart to permit such breaches after having already faced legal trouble over these issues. The article reports that "[t]wo years ago, Wal-Mart paid $50 million to settle a class-action suit that asserted that 69,000 current and former Wal-Mart employees in Colorado had worked off the clock."

Whatever the truth -- and this article, as is so often the case with the New York Times, does a disappointing job of helping the reader form an educated guess -- one can at least conclude that something's weird in that land of America which so obsesses the Chinese. Either:

1. The charges are true, in which case it would seem there is something seriously wrong with the regulatory environment (otherwise such blatant legal breaches by the nation's top retailer could not develop into a widespread problem in the first place); or

2. It's possible for lawyer chicanery to bring about a lengthy feature article in a major newspaper which would give most readers the strong impression that the nation's top retailer is illegally cheating poor workers.

In the class discussion it transpired that the aunt of one of the students was in this kind of situation -- working overtime without pay, and afraid to complain lest she lose the job. (Several of my night school students, who worked by day, also worked overtime without pay.)

There were conflicting views among the students as to the provisions of Chinese law, but I asked them to check it out, and the following week they were confident they knew the exact terms. I found their report strange, but the class insisted that all employees, hourly and salaried, even managers and executives, must by law be paid (straight-time) for all overtime worked. How is hourly pay determined for salaried workers? It's inferred by dividing the weekly salary by 40 hours. Employees may sue within 6 months to recoup any unpaid overtime worked during that period.

So how to explain the aunt's plight?

The answer, of course, was that even if she recouped for 6 months, she'd probably lose her job; so she didn't sue.

This was clearly defective legislation in that it didn't achieve its ostensible purpose. I asked the students how to repair it. No one gave me a very good answer. Someone suggested giving fired employees access to a tribunal to determine whether they were fired improperly, as the aunt feared would happen to her. But of course that wouldn't work -- a company could contrive other reasons for firing someone.

The students didn't seem much impressed with the proposal I offered for repairing the legislation, but no one gave me a good counter-argument. The next week I had a test which included the same question -- how to repair the law to make it more effective. Almost no one got it right. But this time, in the discussion following the test, there was some ire in their objections to my proposed reform. An academic discussion is one thing, but grades are not something Chinese students kid around about (which is why tests were always a good way to restore flagging attention spans).

The contentiousness of this issue was unusual, as the students rarely disagreed much with me about anything, even though my written course introduction (distributed at the beginning of the semester) encouraged them to offer contrary views. It was strange to have the class so unified in its disagreement, yet unable to offer a counterargument that made sense. Of course, I didn't relent, since no one offered a decent reason why I should. So it was pretty much me against the whole class of law students, on an issue of Chinese law. We ultimately moved on without ever resolving the matter.

This singular episode was probably an element in the students' thought processes, a few weeks later, when they wrote their letters to the administration complaining of my intolerance for dissent (as one item among I don't know how many other grievances).

4. Anonymous Complaints

Sent: Wednesday, January 01, 2003 2:13 AM


Is regulation really so ridiculous in the U.S. that poor workers have to risk their livelihoods to report breaches of such basic rights? There's no mechanism for anonymous complaints?

Goodness, I didn't mean "anonymous complaints" in that last missive. I meant "confidential complaints"! Luckily no one picked up on this. (No one, for that matter, wondered what right answer I had in mind for how to repair the defective Chinese employment law, so there may be more than just luck at work here.)

The slip-up is explainable. I've recently been attempting to address a slew of anonymous complaints targetting ... myself. The complaints were transmitted, by phone and email, to anyplace they had the best chance of causing harm: the presidents' offices, and the "foreign affairs" offices, of the successive universities where I taught. (At Chinese universities, a "foreign affairs office" is typically responsible for dealing with foreign teacher issues.)

No one has been good enough to let me see a copy of any of these email messages, but a sample from a series of emails sent to me by the same author, last June and July, serves to gauge his finer feelings and sentiments:


To: <uw@urielw.com>
Subject: fuck you
Date: Sat, 8 Jun 2002 17:55:43 +0800

You are a head of ugly pig, bald donkey! Therefore you are not civilized enough to write me back.
There is a famous saying in China: Be a prostitute and simultaneously want to have an inscription of pudicity. You are just this kind of person!


The writer is a Chinese man of about 38 who lives and works in Tianjin, near Beijing. He calls himself Gary Tan, and the handle he uses while cruising on OICQ is "Unfaithful". (This according to a friend -- I've never used ICQ / OICQ.)

Tan also busied himself, when not sending email to me or my employers, by harassing me at home with hang-up phone calls. The frequency of these calls intensified to the point that during my final month at FAC I resorted to screening all incoming calls through my answering machine.

Really, it was like something out of the U.S.

Unfortunately, because China is in some respects far less enlightened than the West, this individual succeeded in inflicting some damage. And he was able to do it without ever identifying himself, simply through anonymous swipes from the shadows.

He knows who I am, but I still don't know his real name, his address, or whom he works for.

What's Tan's beef?

In 1999, he met and began a relationship with a female university student referred to here as X. X was 21 years old at the time.

He met X randomly via a "wrong telephone number" to her dorm.

I met X during the spring of 2002 when she helped organize a public lecture I delivered at her university. We became friends, and I learned about her "boyfriend" Gary Tan. He would call her on the cellphone he had given her (which he retrieved after they broke up) with the same neurotic frequency that later characterized his calls to me.

He had told her they would eventually marry. But when she'd ask for information (e.g. financial savings) he would criticize her for not trusting him. She never met his parents, friends or colleagues. She did not know his address or have any identifying information about him other than his cellphone number.

He had obtained her email password and was reading her email messages without her knowledge. As a result she failed to receive some routine emails I sent her to arrange my lecture at her university.

Did she want to separate from him, I asked her. She responded: "He wouldn't accept it."

Did she love him? About 70%, she answered.

The man was known by her roommates to be obsessive and jealous. He discouraged her from spending time with friends.

He got information about me from her and harassed me via phone calls and emails, telling me repeatedly to "fuck off."

I did the right thing. I urged X to separate from him. Eventually she summoned the courage to do so.

In November, 2002, after learning of her ex's messages to my universities, I contacted X and she replied:


I lost touch with him several months ago. During the last call,he said he had changed his mobile number which was the only way I could get in touch with him. I said "Very good",and of course,I woud never want to contact a man who had hurt me so badly.I deleted his number,returned him the mobile,and photos and other things .I just tried to forget him.
The contemptible Gary Tan does not, one hopes, represent any significant proportion of Chinese boyfriends. But what is significant is that he was able -- at least to some degree -- to bend the administrations of two prestigious Chinese universities to his malicious purposes, through the risk-free expedient of anonymous messages.

I finally learned of Tan's many messages to the Tsinghua and FAC administrations during the meeting, in mid-November, in which FAC Assistant President Heng Xiaojun fired me. He stressed that the messages hadn't been a significant factor in his decision. But in the short list of justifications he offered, the one occupying first place was the anonymous phone calls and email messages he said FAC had been receiving "from all over Beijing" since the beginning of the semester.

I was frankly amazed to learn of these messages, which turned out to have begun last June when I was still completing my year at Tsinghua. No hint of the messages had ever reached me.

A short time after this discovery, I arranged with one of my top Tsinghua students from last year, a young woman who is also a superior science student, to go together, without appointments, to various offices at Tsinghua:

- the foreign languages department where I'd worked;

- the foreign affairs office;

- the president's office; and

- the software institute, where an offer of a short position last summer teaching database programming, which had been virtually finalized, mysteriously fell through at the last minute.

My objective -- to confront and repudiate malicious charges about myself -- was valid, reasonable, honorable. And, in China, probably doomed to failure from the start.

The foreign languages department chairman, welcoming and ushering my student and me into a meeting room, declared that he had never heard of such messages.

The two professors from the Tsinghua software institute, who'd all but signed the dotted job offer line 6 months previously -- who'd introduced me to my teaching assistant and asked that I send him preparatory materials for the database course -- had likewise never encountered messages of any such description. The summer job, they averred as we met them together, had failed to materialize simply because of timetable considerations. As for the abrupt cessation of communication at their end, they had a ready explanation: Chinese culture. One does not openly present a "no" response, they pointed out. A decision not to hire is conveyed by saying nothing.

At the president's office, they wouldn't even give us an assistant's name. A secretary gave us her email address and promised -- falsely, it turned out -- to respond when I wrote to her about the issue.

It can perhaps be rated a triumph that I got one of the people we ambushed -- the startled deputy director of the Tsinghua foreign affairs office, Li Hongyu -- to even acknowledge the existence of these anonymous emails. Following a show of ignorance, her defenses withered in the face of my open disbelief, and she reluctantly acknowledged that, yes, there had been messages. And the man had contacted "many people" at Tsinghua, including the president's office and some unnamed teacher in the foreign languages department.

I wanted something more: an admission that the Tsinghua foreign affairs office had perpetrated the foolishness (which would be actionable in the West) of passing these libels along to others, including my subsequent employer, FAC. But at this she drew the line, adamantly insisting that the information had not gone beyond their office.

That was a lie, almost certainly. Her boss, Xia Guangzhi, was unavailable then, but I called him later. He too insisted that the foreign affairs office had not spread the information. He asked me what made me so certain. I said I couldn't reveal my sources. He said come back when you have something more concrete.

I gave a ring to Li Jing, the deputy director of FAC's foreign affairs office. This was after my firing by FAC and I didn't expect much from her.

She was less than eager to talk about the anonymous emails, saying it had been long ago. She mentioned that messages had been received at the FAC president's office before her office.

I asked for a copy of the messages. She said they'd been trashed. (I'd have been surprised to get them from her, but I thought an initial refusal might make her more amenable to subsequent queries.) I then asked who exactly from the Tsinghua foreign affairs office had passed along the information from the messages.

She said she couldn't identify the person (thus confirming that the communication had occurred). It had been "waiban to waiban," she explained -- privileged communication. ("Waiban" means foreign affairs office.)

I told her the boss of the foreign affairs office at Tsinghua had insisted that no one from his office had called her office. I added: "I don't believe him, I believe you."

She asked why I trusted her -- maybe she was the one who was lying. Oh, it was all a fine joke to her, this affair. To quell her high spirits, I told her not to waste my time. And I said I wanted her to call Tsinghua and set Xia Guangzhi straight. She didn't want to, but she agreed to receive his call and let him know who from his office had called her.

I now had the "more concrete" information Xia Guangzhi had demanded. I emailed him:


Sent: Monday, December 09, 2002 3:55 PM
Subject: Calls from your office to FAC

I have spoken to Li Jing of the FAC Foreign Affairs Office. She confirms that she was personally contacted by the Tsinghua "waiban" office, and that the person in that office passed along information received in anonymous messages.

You can confirm this yourself, and learn who in your office made these calls, by calling Li Jing directly at 6832 3348.

You can also confirm with your staff that at no time was I informed of these malicious messages. All these communications took place behind my back, without my knowledge.

Please email me when you have confirmed the information per above.

Sincerely,

Uriel Wittenberg

c.c. FAC Foreign Affairs Office


He replied:


Sent: Monday, December 09, 2002 5:39 PM
Subject: Re: Calls from your office to FAC

Mr. Wittenberg,
Thanks for your message.
I will look into the matter and reply to you later.
Xia Guangzhi
Deputy Director
Tsinghua University
Office for International Cooperation & Exchange
(also Office for Affairs of Hong Kong, Macao and Taiwan)
Haidian, Beijing, China 100084
Phone:(86-10)6278-1954
Fax: [...]
E-mail: [...]


And, as I write, that is the last I've heard from him.

Twelve days later I tried prodding:


Sent: Saturday, December 21, 2002 11:32 PM
Subject: Re: Calls from your office to FAC

You asked for more evidence of what I'd told you about your office's phone calls, and I gave you more evidence. Have you called Li Jing? Have you confirmed that your office passed along anonymous, malicious messages?

Will you apologize for incorrectly insisting that such calls were never made?

I had hoped you would follow up on your message below more promptly than this.


No response.

But even my young undergraduates, steeped in the ways of China, have no difficulty understanding this. The man has no reason to respond. I have no power over him. No superior will give him any grief for neglecting me. (This is borne out by the president's office's indifference.) No publicity will ever come of this. The course of least trouble is to ignore me.

5. Modern Handicaps, Timeless Injustice

Sent: Wednesday, January 01, 2003 5:08 PM

"Error!" protests a correspondent. "I DID wonder what the right answer you had in mind was and would have asked you in my next message. I also wondered why you would expect your students to give you that answer, your answer, when it seems (at least this is how I understand your presentation) that they didn't agree with you that this was the right way??? And to be able to judge, it would have been helpful if you had provided the answer in question."

Since you ask: China's employment law should be fixed by extending the 6-month limitation so that employees can claim unpaid overtime as far back as, say, 10 years. Then an employee needn't risk termination to get paid for work done. He can simply wait until he's retired or has left the company for other reasons, and recover the money then.

The 6-month limit gives employers a rational incentive to cheat. With a 10-year limit, the money they'd otherwise be saving looks more like a liability -- an expenditure that's merely been postponed.

Obviously, practicability depends on a reasonable regulatory system (perhaps specialized employment law tribunals) that is accessible to workers; and fact determination is more difficult with the longer timeframe. But extending the time limit corrects the central flaw in the existing legislation as the students described it to me.

How could I demand an answer on a test which the students had already rejected?

The students in my two law classes were relatively interested, attentive, and active in responding to questions. But they're modern young people, plagued by modern handicaps. They prefer lots of kinetic visuals to the coldness of abstract concepts. Concentration of any duration makes them restless for the touch of a cellphone, the click of a mouse. Confinement to an intellectual space arouses the whispering voices implanted by the world's ubiquitous panderers: "Shuck all this. Live free. Be cool. Be your own person. Live life! Go for the extreme. Yeah baaaay-beeeeeee -- whooooo!"

Drudge work -- doing 10,000 exercises -- is, I have the sense, more familiar to the students, and more feasible, than serious reflection, since it consists mostly of shackling themselves to a desk and keeping their eyes pried open. But thinking, analyzing, weighing, exploring -- that's arduous combat.

A former Tsinghua student writes, a few days ago:


merry christmas!
Do you still remember me--in your newspaper reading class? Although I don't think I perform well in your class but I do think you help me a lot.
you always set a different angle to look at things.
I used to think that something might not be right then I stopped ,and avoid thinking about "why"
so your class is really challenging
thank you for your excellent work

The issue of the Chinese law's defects arose from the discussion of the Wal-Mart article. I probably asked if similar things happen here, and the student with the aunt described the aunt's situation. By the time I got to asking about the law's defects, as I recall, some students had tuned out. The discussion had gotten too intricate; they were resting.

I often encountered this in my teaching. Students lacked mental energy. It was just one 90-minute class weekly that they had with me, with a 10-minute break in the middle (and this particular weekly class began at 8:00 AM), but it was too hard to concentrate for that long.

I don't think concentrating for 90 minutes would be too hard if their brains underwent adequate exercise in their other classes; but I gather they didn't.

I don't remember exactly the responses given when I posed my "How to fix the law?" question, but none were sound. Probably some were impractical, others unclear. Maybe I half-drew the proposal I was looking for out of one student.

I think most were hardly paying attention at that point. Some expressed disagreement with the idea but were weary and disinclined to argue. I pushed them to explain what was wrong with the idea but their interest was not engaged.

Well. Isn't this what tests are for?

Education should not be democratic. Student comfort is not the criterion. My objective was not to get them informed about Wal-Mart workers, or to fill mental receptacles with any other kind of data, but to improve their ability to think independently. So I didn't see a need to relent in my demand that these lawyers-to-be identify the critical defect in their own law as they'd just described it to me -- a law which patently failed to serve its nominal purpose.

We hadn't dwelt much on the proposed law fix, so when we had the test, at least one week later, apparently no one remembered what I'd proposed. And virtually no one got any marks on that question. However, I had their attention when we discussed the issue a second time, after the test. Unfortunately, while they stuck to their contrary attitude, they still didn't have any coherent arguments to back it up.

An American friend in Beijing came up with a wholly novel objection to my proposal on moral grounds. He felt it'd be sneaky for an employee to quietly plan to, as he viewed it, betray his employer years later, and that he should "take responsibility" and have the "courage" to confront his employer.

I quite disagree, but the thinking is at least clear enough that it can be articulated.

*   *   *

One reader endorses the insight of my young students, too worldly-wise to expect justice. "That's life," she writes. "Old La Fontaine said it best:"


Suivant que vous serez puissant ou miserable,
Les jugements de cour vous rendront blanc ou noir.

(According to your power or poverty
Court judgments will render you white or black.)

[Jean de La Fontaine (1621-1695), French writer who produced the most famous fables of modern times. --Encarta 98 Desk Encyclopedia]


6. Vacuous Diplomats

Sent: Saturday, January 04, 2003 10:38 AM

There was enthusiasm and progress in most of my classes, sure. But not all were intellectual thrill rides. One group in particular stood out from the beginning for its unshakable mental inertness: my Monday class of Diplomacy students.

These were "double degree" students -- they already had 4-year Bachelor's degrees in English and had proceeded directly into their current 2-year Foreign Affairs (or "Diplomacy") program, which led to a second Bachelor's degree. They were in the second and final year of this program.

In addition to regular university exams, these students wrote exams conducted by China's Foreign Ministry, and selected students underwent extensive interviews to work there after graduation.

Shortly after the start of the semester, FAC held an "opening ceremony" before an audience of about 500. I and the ten or so other Western teachers were given front-row seats and assigned individual interpreters. A few dignitaries spoke, notably the Chinese Vice-Premier, Qian Qichen. He delivered a hard-hitting foreign policy speech (partly for the benefit of his front-row listeners?) enumerating many of China's grievances against the U.S. Among other things -- the U.S. spy plane, the Yugoslav embassy bombing, the 1989 sanctions (following the Tiananmen Square democracy movement), the 1995 visit to the U.S. by the Taiwanese president, America's general efforts to impose its ideology and economic system on the rest of the world -- he noted that the 1949 revolution establishing the modern Chinese state had been viewed by the U.S. at the time as "intolerable."

Of students heading for careers representing China in the international arena, the Vice-Premier said they would encounter differences, pressure, and that they had to learn to "stand firm." Several remarks by the Vice-Premier and other speakers indicated that the Diplomacy program represented the main thrust of the school's mission -- as indeed the name of the school suggests. At several points it was as if the speakers were under the impression that all of the school's students were headed for careers representing China (although Foreign Affairs was only one of the school's six departments).

But the vacuity of the Monday class was almost farcical. It was a puzzle why they were so much deader than the other group of second-year Diplomacy students, which I taught on Tuesdays. At one point it was suggested that the two classes had been divided according to ability, but it wasn't clear whether that was true. (I used to pursue questions like this in China but I've largely given up -- no one seems to know the answers (no one has asked the questions), and after battling a vortex of contradictions you end up with little more than when you started, except all around you people are nursing sensibilities bruised by your demands for unambiguous information.)

The various classes I taught indeed had different characteristics. FAC asked the foreign teachers for a report one month into the semester. Here are excerpts from mine:


I'm generally getting along well with all my students. One problem that's been manifest in most classes is a tendency for students to talk to each other while I am talking. Obviously this means that what I'm saying is being missed. This bad habit is fairly widespread at FAC. Strangely, I have heard several times that I am a "strict" teacher merely because I do not permit this.

The following are generalizations which do not apply to 100% of the students in the respective classes.

*** 6'th-year F.A. students: capable but blase and bored ***

"6'th-year" sums up the problem. The students have been in school forever and are sick of it. I would urge that FAC consider imposing an admission requirement for this program of one year of working experience after the first degree. That would lead to superior education for the students and better graduates.

The 2001122 class is the worse one but 2001121 also has the problem.

I have commented to the 2001122 class about its "deadness" and offered them my diagnosis above. The students who responded agreed.

Both the students' English and their reasoning ability is superior to most students I was teaching last year at Tsinghua (typically 3'rd-year undergraduate science students).

*** Night school: eager to upgrade ***

These are my least capable students here, but they are earnest and pleasant. My impression is that they are burdened with difficult jobs and typically have less privileged backgrounds than my day students. They seem grateful for the opportunity to be in my class.

*** Continuing Education: need to improve reasoning ***

This is a large class (about 46 students) which inevitably lessens the quality of the teaching I can provide individual students.

They are somewhat more capable than my night school students but considerably weaker than students in all my other day classes. I have noticed in particular that their logical reasoning skills are weak.

*** 3'rd-year law students: brilliant! ***

These students are really smart! I have been repeatedly impressed and surprised by their incisiveness. In addition to appearing to be the most capable of my FAC students, they also have plenty of mental energy. Please give me more classes like these!

*** Additional remarks ***

I have had a small number of problems with cellphones and similar devices causing distraction in my classes. This is one of my "pet peeves" and I personally would like to see FAC adopt strict measures against this kind of selfish behavior.


On that last note, I smile to think how privileged we were, my students and I, that I possessed the power to secure my classrooms against electronic intrusions. Consider the humiliating situation of increasing numbers of American university professors:


Professors Vie With Web For Class's Attention

New York Times, January 2, 2003

Universities are rushing toward a wireless future, installing networks that let students and the faculty surf the Internet from laptop computers in the classroom.

But professors say the technology poses a growing challenge for them: retaining their students' attention.

In a classroom at American University in Washington on a recent afternoon, as Prof. Jay Mallek lectured graduate students on the finer points of creating and reading an office budget, many students were off surfing. A young man looked at sports photos while a woman checked out baby photos that just arrived in her e-mailbox.

The screens provide a silent commentary on the teacher's attention-grabbing skills. The moment he loses the thread, or fumbles with his own laptop to use its calculator, screens flip from classroom business to leisure. Students dash off e-mail notes and send instant messages. A young man who is chewing gum shows an amusing e-mail message to the woman next to him, and then switches over to read the online edition of The Wall Street Journal.

"This is an addictive thing that hurts the students themselves," said Ian Ayres, a professor at the Yale Law School who opposes much of the Internet's entry into the classroom, saying that computer use is rude and that other students are "demoralized" by seeing their peers' attention wander.

"When you see 25 percent of the screens playing solitaire, besides its being distracting, you feel like a sucker for paying attention," Professor Ayres said.

Unless law students are fully engaged in the class, he said, they miss out on the give and take of ideas in class discussion and do not develop the critical thinking skills that emerge from "deeply tearing apart a case."

Professor Ayres tried to prohibit all Internet use in his classroom. The students "went ballistic," he said, and insisted that their multitasking ways made them more productive and even more alert in class.

Lately, he said, he has loosened the restrictions, telling students they could surf from the back rows, so others would not be distracted.

One professor at a law school in Texas became so upset by the level of student distraction in 2001 that he took a ladder to school, climbed up to reach the wireless transmitter in his classroom -- and disconnected it. The students protested. The administration told him to plug it back in. But the point was made, he said, and he regained the attention of the class.

In 2002, he told his students that they could not use laptops in his class at all, even for taking notes.

"It has made an enormously positive difference to shut those computers off," he said.

Dozens of colleges are going wireless, including Dartmouth, Carnegie Mellon in Pittsburgh, the University of California at San Diego and the University of Minnesota.


7. Guilty Interlude

Sent: Saturday, January 04, 2003 4:09 PM

I sometimes call friends here, students, and have a conversation like this:

"Hello," my friend will whisper.

"Hi. Why are you whispering?" (Innocently.)

"I'm in class."

"Oh.... The teacher's giving the lesson -- now?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm. Well. When's class over?"

"What?"

"When is your class FINISHED?"

"Oh. At four o'clock."

"OK. I'll call you back after that."

"OK. Bye."

"Bye."

I hate cellphones. But they are convenient when someone you want to get a hold of has one.

Obviously one feels a twinge of guilt. But that's life. Get used to it.

8. Monday Mumbo Jumbo

Sent: Sunday, January 05, 2003 12:04 PM

In each of my 7 classes, I requested in the first meeting of the semester that they read a "letter to my students" I'd posted on my website. Weeks later I discovered that none of my Monday diplomats had looked at it. Asked why not, they told me they couldn't access the site.

Couldn't access it?!

The whole class gave me the quite surprising news that they could not access foreign websites from the FAC computer centre.

Had anyone asked the FAC staffer working at the computer centre for help?

No. No one had asked.

I asked one of the students to accompany me to the FAC computer centre after class. We found the FAC staffer, and I asked the student to ask her about the issue in Chinese.

The staffer listened to the student's question and promptly responded: "No, you can access foreign websites."

There was a short pause, and the student turned to me, wondering what else I wanted.

I was puzzled. Did the student not understand that the staffer's information was a DIRECT CONTRADICTION of what everyone in the class had told me minutes earlier?

"Tell her you cannot access foreign websites," I told the student.

The student conveyed this in Chinese, and again the staffer answered at once, firmly, indicating access was perfectly possible.

The student turned back to me with an embarrassed smile.

"Is this information not the exact opposite of what the class just told me?!" I asked the student.

The student told me timidly that sometimes she cannot access foreign sites. But the staffer insisted firmly that there was no problem accessing such sites. The student looked at me helplessly, obviously wanting only to escape from the situation.

Perhaps this scene gives you a sense of why so many things here are shrouded in confusion. And of how straightforward questions are not the routine way of going about things.

Not long after this episode, this particular student was selected -- as one of only four of the double-degree students graduating this year -- to work in the Foreign Ministry after graduation. I wondered if the kind of "standing firm" I'd witnessed was what Vice-Premier Qian Qichen had in mind.

I didn't want to spend more time arm-twisting the girl, so I gave her the simple assignment to resolve the foreign access issue and email me later. She sent the explanation shortly afterwards: there were 3 computer rooms; only one was designated for foreign access; students had to use the computers in that room to access foreign websites, not the other two rooms.

"I think I should apologize for my inability to reach your website," she wrote. "Most our classmates failed like me because, first, we seldom went to that room since the computers there are older and people always want new computers. Second, the teacher in the computer lab, actually no one ever told us about it. Anyway we know it now."

The Mondays. They were "Foreign Affairs" specialists, yet hadn't breached China's boundaries even virtually.

Put an obstacle in their path -- and they'd crash and burn.

Put someone next to the obstacle to point out the detour -- and they'd ignore her.

Inquire if any solution existed -- and they'd swear none did.

I unburdened myself of some of these sentiments in an email to all my classes which concluded:


Sent: Wednesday, September 25, 2002 9:13 PM
Subject: Fear and Failure

[...] Here is an entire class, set to obtain a second degree in under a year, that silently accepted failure. An FAC staffer works in the computer room, but no one asked her for help. These students -- "Foreign Affairs" majors! -- were convinced they could not go beyond the 1% of the WWW that is in China. And judging from the exchange I witnessed, the reason none of them awoke to their error is that when they encounter information that disagrees with their false ideas, their tendency is to burrow into a hole and hide.

This is all the more significant in light of Vice-Premier Qian Qichen's speech at FAC less than two weeks ago, which was particularly directed to students in the Foreign Affairs department. He spoke of the personal qualities and characteristics students must develop in order to effectively represent China on the international stage. Other nations, he noted, often pressure China or make demands that are contrary to China's interests. What students must learn to deal effectively with other nations, he said, is to "stand firm."

In my various classes I do have (and am grateful for) many students who are intellectually alert, alive and curious. To the others, those inclined to languor, I urge you not to flee from different ideas, and not to quit on the first setback. An important benefit of higher education is to encounter and be stimulated by unfamiliar and even contrary ideas.

Might those ideas change you? Yes they might. And that might not be such a bad thing. If you exit with all the same ideas you had on entry, can you believe you have progressed?


The one substantive response came from a student in my other double-degree class:


Thank you for your suggestion in your letter. I want to express my comment and opinion.

I don't know who that classmate is, but I do feel puzzled why students in our college lack communications with each other so much. I think that's one reason for our ignorance most of time. Here in FAC we should meet higher demands, but that does that mean we have already been better than students in other universities. I have sensed the pressing atmosphere here because of the fierce competition among students. At the same time, I always realize the evil side of person, selfishness, reluctant to let others know of their inner world, know how excellent or awkward they are. Yes, it's fear, and it's failure, but I think such mindset will not stay forever. The situation you mentioned is just a proof for her total wrong understanding about learning. Learning is not a secret, but an interactive process. The more you share with others, the excellent you will be. Am I right, Mr. Wittenburg?

The National Day is coming. Wish you happiness dueing the one-week-long holiday.


To my reply requesting clarification on a couple of points, she responded:


Hi Uriel,

I my last letter,I mentioned that students in FAC should be better in the fields which are specially set for us,such as mastering knowledge of international relations,public relations and English communication,just name a few.It's nationally acknowledged that demands for students here is somewhat higher that some other colleges,especially in English.That's what I mean by "better".

I should say that I have known how to access into a foreign website since last semester.I'm sure that if she was a student in [my class],she would also know that.Maybe they haven't touched such a topic before,so it's understandable.I think it's not accurate for you to think all the 30 students of the double-degree students don't know how to do that.

I always let somebody know me,including the inner world.Just like what you have mentioned,"Debate is also at the heart of the intellectual life."I'd like to debate with others about what is right and what is wrong,and I think it's beneficial to us no matter how fierce the debate will be.You're a good debator,Uriel,asking affensive questions all the time(Please forgive my frankness),making us not knowing what to say.Believe me or not,no one of us don't want to improve out intellectual life,just because of some communication obstacles.


A whole class of students had falsely informed me, their foreign teacher, that foreign websites could not be accessed. What suitable means could I devise for them to do penance? My inspiration led a colleague to write: "This sounds fun !!! As the saying goes, 'Let the punishment fit the crime'..."

9. Social Harmony

Sent: Monday, January 06, 2003 12:46 PM


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
To: [Monday Diplomacy Class]
Sent: Friday, September 27, 2002 9:34 PM
Subject: Prepare class presentations for Monday!

Dear Students,

I've been thinking hard about what to do with an entire group of 21st-century university students (majoring in "Foreign Affairs"! --that's the cherry on top) who never realized they could surf beyond the borders of China, even though they had the WWW at their fingertips.

At last I've hit upon a suitable plan.

Part of each student's final grade will be based on a 10-minute class presentation based on web research. Your presentation need not be comprehensive but should be comprehensible, and you should be prepared to answer basic questions.

We will be meeting both on Sunday September 29 [exceptionally, because of Oct. 1-7 holiday] and Monday September 30. The first 3 presentations will be given by the first 3 students (alphabetically) on the class list and are due on September 30. The 3 students are: [...]

Hopefully these students will read this email before I tell them about their assignment in person on Sunday; otherwise they'll have under 24 hours to prepare. (Please tell them.)

Each of the 3 students must choose one of the following topics and present any aspect of it:

- Human rights violations in the U.S. (no China-based sources allowed)

- Recent reports on the world environment situation

- The positions of various national governments with regard to the prospect of war in Iraq

- A contemporary issue in Judaism, the Mormon Church, or the Catholic Church

- Suspicions of U.S. industrial espionage in other countries

- The recent case of a mother in the U.S. abusing a child in a parking lot.

- The problem of obesity

- The effects on children of viewing television

- Computer viruses

Additional topic choices will be available for subsequent presentations by other students.

Students must email me the URL's (webpage addresses) of the material on which presentations are based.

SEARCH ENGINES, like http://google.com and http://yahoo.com , are useful for finding information. You may want to use them.

Regards,

Uriel


(I stipulated in class that the websites had to be English-language and foreign.)

Response was swift. Considering that even the central character of "Fear and Failure" -- the girl who'd accompanied me to the computer centre -- apparently didn't read that email until a month later, and then only when spurred, the promptness of the replies this time was dramatic:


To: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Saturday, September 28, 2002 10:00 AM
Subject: Re: Prepare class presentations for Monday!

Dear Uriel

Its a shock to me that I am supposed to give presentation on the coming Monday in your class.

Since I got anthor presentation in Chinese to do Tommorrow, I only have one Tommorrow night to prepare your assignment, which is too tough and too urgent for me to make a high-quality presentation based on the topics you chose. And I dont think its fair for three of us to do such work without good preparation while others have plenty of time, as you said in your email that part of my final grade is based on presetation.

So, could you please reconsider the schedule time for us. We would appreciate it if you could delay our presetation after holiday.

Many Thanks
yours
...

--------------------------------------------------

From: [another of the 3 initial presenters]
To: "'Uriel Wittenberg'" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Saturday, September 28, 2002 10:59 AM
Subject: RE: Prepare class presentations for Monday!

Mr.Wittenberg,

I read your e-mail this morning which really agitates me since there is only one day left for the preparation and at the same time we have to have classes all day(from 8 am to 5 pm) on that only day.So if you could be kind enough to postpone the presentation to the next class, you will be appreciated.

This is also good to the class since no classmates want to listen to an presentation which is not well prepared. And in light of the principle of fairness, each student should be given the same period of time for preparation. It sounds not so good that we have one day and the others have 6 or 7.

It is nice of you to inform us of this. Could we have a further discussion on this tomorrow? Thanks a lot!

Best wishes

Yours,

...


The students had a point, so I agreed to postpone the first presentations to October 14 -- the first class following the Oct. 1-7 National Day holiday (commemorating the founding of the state on October 1, 1949).

On that day, however, I soon discovered that my brilliant punishment for the class's Internet failures and false excuses had a flaw: during any given presentation, pretty much all students (all but the one presenting), absent a deterrent for inattention, would mentally slip away for the pleasures of idle daydreaming. Why hadn't I foreseen this? (I was also far from blown away by the presentations themselves.)

My openly sarcastic email, below, sent to the class after these first presentations, will lose me sympathy in some quarters. But that's just the kind of person you have to resign yourself to having as your narrator. Remember though, this was hands-down my worst class.

The style might also be considered a bit heavy-handed, but I was trying to be clear for non-native speakers.

I was offended not only by the students' extreme indolence but also by an exchange suggesting an insufferable willingness to pervert independent views for the sake of conformity and the avoidance of the least hint of contention with peers.

One presenter, addressing the topic of obesity, wanted to make the point that obese people suffer not only physically but also psychologically because of their lack of personal appeal. Seeking to informally substantiate the unattractiveness of obese people (presumably also to liven things up), she asked a couple of students whether they'd consider dating an obese person. (Incidentally, none of my students was obese.)

The girl she asked responded something like: "Well, it would depend on his qualities -- if he's a kind person; if he's compassionate. If he was, then maybe I would go out with him."

The presenter nodded, as if this was precisely what she'd been soliciting: "If the person is very fat, you don't want to spend time with them. You don't feel like getting close or becoming involved ...." She invited the girl to elaborate.

"Well, if the person is too fat, then you don't want to get into a relationship ...."

"That's right," the presenter agreed. "People don't want to get into a relationship with very fat people. And so that's why they also have psychological problems ...."

"Hold on a sec," I interposed. I pointed out that the girl had reversed her initial response as soon as she realized what the presenter wanted. (Such behavior was apparently so ordinary and unremarkable that no one else seemed to have noticed.)

And while it's great to solicit audience views, I added to the presenter, "you don't handle unexpected feedback by pretending it supports your point."

The two students smiled in acknowledgment. And the presentation proceeded.


From: "Uriel Wittenberg"
To: [Monday Diplomacy Class]
Sent: Monday, October 14, 2002 10:18 PM
Subject: the lovely clouds

Today's experiment with an alternative class format, my bid for resurrecting this class, can unfortunately not be considered a success. [...] offered the startling news that the obesity rate for Chinese boys aged 7 to 18 has doubled to 10% in an amazingly short time -- only the past 6 or 7 years -- but most of you could think of one thing only: your lunch.

At the outset of this course you calculated that you would probably not be punished for failing to access a foreign website. Today you calculated again: it was probably safe to ignore your classmates' presentations. Your minds drifted contentedly amidst clouds of nothingness ... awaiting lunch, glorious lunch.

There was a little bit of drama when I delayed the mid-class break slightly. Tremors of alarm passed through the class. Rambo, panicking as if his air supply had been cut off, almost attacked me physically. But calm was soon restored, and you were snugly back in your mental hammocks in time for [...]'s presentation. No one even bothered to ask her just what the mother at the center of the sensational child abuse story had actually done to her child. [...]'s idea that the issue she was presenting might generate discussion among her classmates (Were police justified in releasing a video depicting child abuse to the news media?) proved wildly optimistic. One might as soon expect the corpses in a graveyard to jump up and dance a jig together.

The general tendency was already clear in the first presentation. When a student realized that her sincere response to [...]'s question about accepting an obese boyfriend was "wrong," she hastened to correct it so it would conform to the point [...] wanted to make. Who could dream of discussion or debate among people whose only wish is to repeat what they're supposed to say?

[...] offered a statement that might have provoked a sentient audience when she said: "No one denies that we can't live a normal life today without video surveillance." But, though you are brilliantly alert when it comes to break-time or lunchtime, [...]'s assertion produced not the least stir.

I will have to ponder further the problem of what to do with you all every week. Suggestions are welcome.


10. Rousing the Recalcitrant

Sent: Saturday, January 11, 2003 12:05 AM

My sarcasm caused anguish and suffering for the Monday Diplomacy students. It was richly deserved, no question. But that made it hurt all the more.

I'd certainly tried to stimulate the students' interest. But their dedication to deadness was fierce. It had gotten to the point where my efforts were colliding with my Golden Rule: a teacher should never work harder than his students.

Resorting to sarcasm was the natural corollary -- with students like these, sarcasm was effortless. It was also the last remaining hope for conjuring life. One student was roused to wring out the following ode, likely his greatest expenditure of energy of the semester. The exertion left him too depleted to correspond any further after my reply.

[Note: I am not really violating the intent of his request -- "please don't mention the argument between you and me to the public." He's thinking of classroom discussions of issues in which the concerned students were identified -- e.g. the "Fear and Failure" incident.]


To: <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Tuesday, October 22, 2002 9:19 PM

Dear Sir Uriel Wittenberg,

This letter reflects my personal opinions on your course. If you don't agree with me, you can argue with me by answering my letters. If you dislike this letter, you could discard it and forget it. But please don't mention the argument between you and me to the public.

Dear sir, I am very disappointed that you use the word "corpse" to describe your students. I do know you have very reason to blame your student for they ignore your instruction. Yes, they should be punished. Just punish them! But please do not use the dirty words to tease us, to smear us, and to shame us. I do not know if you believe in God, but everyone are born to equal is the fundamental proposition to be dedicated in your constitution.

We are your students as well as human beings gifted by Creator, we should be respected at least. In China, a teacher is regarded as the role model of his students, and he should teach knowledge and guide his students by his behaviors and influence them by his virtues. My classmates and I are astonished and angry to your words and behaviors, therefore we choose silence. Sometimes I am deeply sorrow for you because you are wise but you don't how to operate your wisdom. It seems you never want a different answer to your question. Could you kindly enough to tell me your comprehension is only correct one to the articles?Could you kindly tell me whether it is good to gamble with a student in the class? Could you kindly enough to tell me that "fuck" and "shit" is good words to teach students? Could you kindly enough to tell me that do yuu just want the answers that you want? You are here because you are wiser than us and knowlegdable in some fields. You are here because the college believe you are capable to guide the student in correct and good way and to stimulate the students enthusiam, creativity and wisdom.please undertake all these responsibilies and honors in your goodness.maybe we will miss you a nice guy in the future.

Please do not shout or yell to your students because they will reckon you are rude and uneducated. Sometimes you really scare them. I know you are really smart and responsible, however why don't you try to communicate with your students with a smile.I know that You needn't to please them but a relaxing class is good to all of us.

I am sad because you said "we are going to win the next war" I do not believe that you are fanatic to war and happy to see millions of people died. I like peace and personally I am strongly angry about this sentence. If my words offend you , I apologize. If my words is a bit reasonable, could you write to me and perhaps we can discuss more.

Best regards


11. Fukien Frazzlement

Sent: Saturday, January 11, 2003 5:52 PM

I am hoping my Monday Diplomacy correspondent's characterization of my classroom comportment -- shouting, swearing, drawing students into wagers -- raised eyebrows among my readers.

"This isn't the Uriel we know and respect," you may have thought.

You may also have wondered whether it's wise for a Canadian teaching in China to share with students an enthusiasm for their nation's upcoming military defeats.

Frankly, that's a distortion, and a remark I made was taken out of context. Generally speaking, my words and deeds have at all times been appropriate.

But did I utter the F word?

Now look. I'm an emissary of Western culture, Western civilization, in a faraway and very different land. I am paid to transfer not merely linguistic skills to my young charges, but cultural awareness and insight and general communications aptitude. It is my job. It's a responsibility I take seriously.

It is true I have strived to convey some level of appreciation for the flavor of American speech patterns. For example, a frequently heard Chinese response to "Thank you" is "Not at all," which many Chinese don't realize is really only fitting if you're a matron of aristocratic pretensions at the opera.

To take another example, imagine President Bush getting up in the morning, trudging down to the front door of the White House, stooping to swipe the New York Times from under the mat (with a sour look), trudging to the breakfast table to get his coffee from Laura, and turning the pages to the hated Prof. Paul Krugman's column:


On Tuesday, George W. Bush is scheduled to give a speech intended to put him in front of the growing national outrage over corporate malfeasance. He will sternly lecture Wall Street executives about ethics and will doubtless portray himself as a believer in old-fashioned business probity.

Yet this pose is surreal, given the way top officials like Secretary of the Army Thomas White, Dick Cheney and Mr. Bush himself acquired their wealth....

[T]he administration has so far gotten the press to focus on the least important question about Mr. Bush's business dealings: his failure to obey the law by promptly reporting his insider stock sales.... [T]he administration hopes that a narrow focus on the reporting lapses will divert attention from the larger point: Mr. Bush profited personally from aggressive accounting identical to the recent scams that have shocked the nation.

In 1986, one would have had to consider Mr. Bush a failed businessman. He had run through millions of dollars of other people's money, with nothing to show for it but a company losing money and heavily burdened with debt. But he was rescued from failure when Harken Energy bought his company at an astonishingly high price. There is no question that Harken was basically paying for Mr. Bush's connections.

Despite these connections, Harken did badly. But for a time it concealed its failure -- sustaining its stock price, as it turned out, just long enough for Mr. Bush to sell most of his stake at a large profit -- with an accounting trick identical to one of the main ploys used by Enron a decade later. (Yes, Arthur Andersen was the accountant.) As I explained in my previous column, the ploy works as follows: corporate insiders create a front organization that seems independent but is really under their control. This front buys some of the firm's assets at unrealistically high prices, creating a phantom profit that inflates the stock price, allowing the executives to cash in their stock.

That's exactly what happened at Harken. A group of insiders, using money borrowed from Harken itself, paid an exorbitant price for a Harken subsidiary, Aloha Petroleum. That created a $10 million phantom profit, which hid three-quarters of the company's losses in 1989. White House aides have played down the significance of this maneuver, saying $10 million isn't much, compared with recent scandals. Indeed, it's a small fraction of the apparent profits Halliburton created through a sudden change in accounting procedures during Dick Cheney's tenure as chief executive. But for Harken's stock price -- and hence for Mr. Bush's personal wealth -- this accounting trickery made all the difference.

Oh, and Harken's fake profits were several dozen times as large as the Whitewater land deal -- though only about one-seventh the cost of the Whitewater investigation.

Mr. Bush was on the company's audit committee, as well as on a special restructuring committee; back in 1994, another member of both committees, E. Stuart Watson, assured reporters that he and Mr. Bush were constantly made aware of the company's finances. If Mr. Bush didn't know about the Aloha maneuver, he was a very negligent director.

In any case, Mr. Bush certainly found out what his company had been up to when the Securities and Exchange Commission ordered it to restate its earnings. So he can't really be shocked over recent corporate scams. His own company pulled exactly the same tricks, to his considerable benefit. Of course, what really made Mr. Bush a rich man was the investment of his proceeds from Harken in the Texas Rangers -- a step that is another, equally strange story.

The point is the contrast between image and reality. Mr. Bush portrays himself as a regular guy, someone ordinary Americans can identify with. But his personal fortune was built on privilege and insider dealings -- and after his Harken sale, on large-scale corporate welfare. Some people have it easy.

"Succeeding in Business," New York Times, July 7, 2002


Now, is it or is it not fair to say that a normal American man in President Bush's position would typically emit an infuriated "FUCK!!!!" on reading the above? As indeed the President must have?

I'll allow I briefly staged a rendition of said reaction for educational purposes.

12. The Subtle Diplomat

Sent: Sunday, January 12, 2003 10:57 AM

I know my reply to the student, which I quote fully below, is going to push my credit with some readers to new lows. People are prone to a sense that an impassioned plea such as his demands respectful solemnity; that simple decency demands contrition, or at least sorrow, from the object of such a heartfelt petition.

But the key to this student's real passion was in his phrase, "a relaxing class is good to all of us."

It wasn't grief over my "smearing" of the Creator's creations that precipitated his feat of oratory, his woodpecker-like succession of Could-you-kindly-enough-to-tell-me's. It was nothing more virtuous than a hunger for "relaxation."

We'd spoken in person after class the day before he sent his message. He said some students were exclusively focussed on getting jobs (they graduate in July) and had no interest in their studies, and that I should accommodate them.

Some students. Not himself, certainly.

Some time later, also, when my job was fully into "Troubled" mode, he warned of "a conspiracy to overthrow you" on the part of certain other students. But the complaints I heard about sounded awfully much like his own.

In case his advice that I cooperate with students' desires to learn nothing did not persuade me, he had an independent objection to my style of throwing questions at them. Noting that my questions demonstrated how clever I was, he pointed out that it's sometimes smart to act stupid even when you're not.

Seems diplomacy school has taught him well.

I objected that this was after all a university -- not some kind of corporation or political situation where you have to position yourself to stab people in the back.

"Come on!" he said indignantly."This is not the Ivy League."

His words.

He'd come to my attention even at the very beginning of the semester, when he objected after class to our overly detailed examinations of readings. He preferred just to get the "gist." (My view, incidentally, is that just getting the "gist" generally means getting it all wrong.) But then another student spoke up and said she liked the way we were examining the readings. He hastily said he did too.


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Thursday, October 24, 2002 10:04 PM
Subject: response to your complaints

>Yes, they should be punished. Just punish them! But please do not use the dirty words to tease us, to smear us, and to shame us.

Dear [...],

Has it occurred to you that that is your punishment?

If one wants to transform corpses into dancers -- as I do -- I cannot think of a better way than insults; particularly well-founded insults. What alternative punishment would have produced the beneficial effect of provoking you to apply your mind and express your thoughts in a letter? This might even produce some enlightenment.

Your grounds for demanding respect are very shaky. God promises damnation to sinners. The U.S. Constitution permits execution. Respect is earned, it's not a right.

>My classmates and I are astonished and angry to your words and behaviors, therefore we choose silence.

False. You chose silence and the comfort of your mental hammocks from the start -- before my insults began. You say so yourself: "I do know you have very reason to blame your student for they ignore your instruction."

>It seems you never want a different answer to your question. Could you kindly enough to tell me your comprehension is only correct one to the articles?

I will respond by asking you to finally do the homework I assigned in our FIRST class. Read my letter to students [which urges students to argue if they have a different viewpoint].

>gamble ... "fuck" and "shit"

Maybe you've been studying diplomacy too long. Maybe you think the most important thing in the world is to offend no one, to be totally orthodox, correct, scrupulous, discreet, boring. But my goal is to drag you out of your slumber and resuscitate your brains.

Anyway, what on earth could be your objection to an honest wager?

And why should Chinese students suffer the inequity of being the only people in America (if they go there) lacking fluency in the use of "fuck" and "shit"? Like you said, god made you equal.

>I am sad because you said "we are going to win the next war"

I don't remember the context.

>why don't you try to communicate with your students with a smile.I know that You needn't to please them but a relaxing class is good to all of us.

I'm not sure whether Machiavelli's dictum, that it's better to be feared than loved, applies to teaching as well as politics. But one thing is sure: to give your class the comfort you yearn for -- that would be abdicating my duty. That would be giving you mental death.

Best regards,

Uriel


13. Applauding Banality

Sent: Sunday, January 12, 2003 4:04 PM

It certainly seemed, didn't it, that that issue of foreign web access was thoroughly resolved. The students had swallowed my "Fear & Failure" rebuke; student responses had acknowledged the failures ("I think I should apologize ... Most our classmates failed like me ... actually no one ever told us about it. Anyway we know it now"); the Monday diplomats were giving presentations every week based on information obtained from foreign websites.

And yet ... about a month later my Law students insisted they couldn't access foreign websites.

Incredulous, I hauled one of them after class to the computer centre where we spoke to the same staffer. There was a lot of Chinese back-and-forth. Then it was explained that something had been fixed. Foreign web access had just started working again.

It hadn't been working before?

I struggled to get clear information. But after some time I gave up, once again. Like I said before, you gotta learn to live with ambiguity around here.

*   *   *

For those Diplomacy class presentations, I offered students these additional topics:

- junk food

- the fight against tobacco

- Chinese students who go to the U.S.

- scientific research about culture, its effects on thinking and personality, statistics on behavior

- the U.S. or European antitrust case against Microsoft

One student delivered a presentation on the topic of Chinese students in the U.S. He spoke easily, obviously confident, not nervous at all. (Most students were at least somewhat nervous.) He began with a couple of jokes:

"They say there are two reasons for going to the U.S. To see a doctor, or to get an education."

The students laughed.

"It's also said that if you love someone, you should send them to the U.S. If you hate someone, you should do the same."

The students laughed some more.

He proceeded with his presentation, which consisted essentially of these points:

- One motive for going to the U.S. is the lack of educational opportunities in China.

- The U.S. offers "first class hardware and software." [?]

- It's a happy, open and democratic society, where people lead "colorful" lives.

- However, some Chinese have bitter experiences and feel culture shock.

- Life is "colorful" there [again]. It's exciting, but not easy.

- About 15,000 return to China, where there are many economic opportunities.

Having relieved himself of these thoughts, the student concluded his presentation. It had taken about four minutes, while others had generally been about 10 minutes. His classmates applauded -- as they hadn't for any of the preceding presentations.

Why? Purely because of his confident delivery? Or was it that he was important, connected in some way? Or was he popular? If so, was it because he was unusually tall?

It would likely have been futile to pursue these questions. They probably wouldn't even know themselves. So I took another ambiguity pill. (Each one goes down smoother than the last.)

As for the presentation, I hate to be a skeptic, but couldn't a compendium of vacuous cliches like this be pulled off practically off the cuff, with zero preparation?

I'd proposed the topic because although going to the U.S., at least for university study, is a major objective for many students here, many who go undoubtedly have negative experiences. Learning something about these experiences-- something beyond a trite reference to "culture shock" -- is what would have been interesting.

14. Update on Xia Guangzhi!

Sent: Monday, January 13, 2003 12:32 PM

"As I write," I wrote long ago, "that is the last I've heard from him."

The person referred to was Xia Guangzhi, boss of the Tsinghua Foreign Affairs Office. His deathless words had been: "I will look into the matter and reply to you later."

"The matter" was my complaint that his office had passed along anonymous messages about me to my new employer (FAC).

Prognostications from China and all over the globe were that Mr. Xia's silence would endure; that complete quiescence was the logical expectation in light of the man's incentives.

But the torch of human justice burns more brightly than many, apparently, believe. His conscience, if not his incentives, impelled him to produce this followup:


From: "Xia Guangzhi"
To: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Thursday, January 02, 2003 11:43 AM
Subject: Re: Calls from your office to FAC

Mr.Uriel Wittenberg,
I am writing to follow up your messages.
I have talked with my countparts at FAC, and get to know that you left the College due to what you did, nothing to do with the "anonymous
messages".
My office has done nothing wrong in your case. I don't think there is any reason you should complain to me.
Regards.
Xia Guangzhi
Deputy Director
Tsinghua University
Office for International Cooperation & Exchange
Haidian, Beijing, China 100084
Phone:(86-10)6278-1954


One thing is heartwarming here, anyway. One can quibble over "My office has done nothing wrong," but at least -- looking on the bright side here -- there is a desire to believe that his office does not do bad things. So, theoretically, his perceptions, infirm though they be, act as a kind of loose check on his malfeasance.

Admittedly, it's a bit of a strain to see the bright side.

The initial inclination is to say -- Hey, like, it's great that you've satisfied yourself that my ex-employer, with whom I'm currently in a contract dispute that's probably soon going to come before a government arbitrator, takes the position that I was fired because of something I did, but what about responding to the point -- your own office's actions -- which it happens you've left unaddressed?

But that would require perhaps more acuteness than it's safe to assume. There are those infirm perceptions to be breached.

There is something that should be more palpable for him than his office's relatively abstract offense of having communicated something it shouldn't have -- namely, the false information he personally gave me. That arrow, I thought, stood a better chance of surviving the vicissitudes of flight:


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
To: "Xia Guangzhi"
Sent: Thursday, January 02, 2003 1:16 PM
Subject: Re: Calls from your office to FAC

Xia Guangzhi,

You told me your office did not pass along anonymous messages.

In fact, your office DID pass along anonymous messages.

What you told me is therefore false.

And it's wrong to say false things to people.

Is this difficult for you to understand?


But he hasn't replied. As I write, his message above is the last I've heard from him.

15. Freedom versus Valor

Sent: Tuesday, January 14, 2003 8:07 PM

Now where were we before Mr. Xia's highly worthwhile interpolation?

Far short, perhaps, of where we should be by now. I admit it, I've indulged a foolish fondness for lingering. We've paused, too too frequently no doubt, to smell the roses ... yes, sometimes less savory odors too. And it's occasionally been only vague scents that have held us up, indiscernible whiffs, traces of je-ne-sais-quoi's that could represent white, black, sweet, sour, life, death.

I may have tested your patience, like a tour bus conductor taking too many payoffs from souvenir shops along the route. One passenger reports the sensation of watching a car wreck in slow motion. After -- what is it, 14 chapters? -- one feels entitled to the main collision.

And why? I ask myself. Why, for example, have we dwelt at such length on my "hands-down worst class"?

I think the answer must be that it was the most colorful.

The same correspondent (his eyes on the road, keeping watch for any calamity) adds that one would think the Chinese would recognize the "harsh" notion I embody of what a teacher should be: "it is one that has been, ironically enough, popularized by the Chinese themselves, or at least our mass market version of their culture. I'm thinking here of the Zen master, the sometimes brutal, mystifying teacher who pushes his students right outside of their skin, of their comfortable notions of themselves and the world, in order that they may truly see themselves and the world."

By way of an approach to the main collision, let me at this juncture introduce one person who was left entirely cold by my Zen mastery: Prof. Wang Yan, an exceedingly fine lady and member in good standing of the FAC administration.

I need to come out and make an announcement here. That is frankly a redirection of my original characterization of Prof. Wang. I was initially imbued with a wild sense of glorious freedom as I contemplated this next subject -- a freedom I've learned not to take for granted -- and the description that burst forth in my resulting flush of loquacity had, rather than the term "fine," a host of epithets I'd sprinkled with joyful abandon.

"I ain't in Canada anymore," I exulted.

Canada, a nation in which I resided for a time, is not particularly forgiving to writers who fail to observe the proper protocols when referring to connected folks. (The advantages of being "connected" in Canada are well known here. The Chinese even have a term for it -- "guanxi.") Scribblers on Canadian soil ignore the rules at their peril.

Wouldn't you know I personally came to the regime's attention during my time within Canada's boundaries -- and was threatened because of something I wrote? An intimidating "WITH PREJUDICE" letter was dispatched to me by one Julian Porter, Q.C., a rude fellow, warning that if I didn't shut up about his friends (the bosses running the Toronto YMCA), various arcane legal processes would be instituted that would leave me penniless. (Text of letter at http://urielw.com/ymca/action-porter.htm.)

What does "WITH PREJUDICE" mean, anyways?

So, with Canada far in the distance, I fixed my narrative sights on Wang Yan with relish.

But then I was suddenly struck by a somber thought: there may be no place on earth where a fellow is truly free to express himself.

True, the Tsinghua foreign affairs office stands as a testament to free speech in China. They're obviously at liberty to spread libels with impunity. But that could be a different kettle of fish.

It's fully plausible that Prof. Wang herself engineered my ouster from behind the scenes at FAC. And such may be her pull that -- maybe -- she did it merely out of personal pique.

One therefore has to admit the possibility, I reasoned, that Canada is not the only country where guanxi counts.

And if Prof. Wang has this kind of pull .... Well, think what an anonymous crazy man was able to do when he felt aggrieved. Maybe it'd be the better part of valor for me to go easy on an FAC director.

16. No Free Lunch

Sent: Wednesday, January 15, 2003 2:17 PM

So anyway, I first met the excellent Wang Yan last March, before her promotion to her current position as director of the FAC foreign affairs office. She was then vice dean of the English department, and she conducted the sole job interview I was given prior to being offered my teaching position for the 2002-2003 year.

Her erect bearing, her style of sweeping into and out of rooms, her self-conscious superficiality and distance created an immediate impression of haughty arrogance, an impression that remained undiminished by the time of our termination meeting eight months later, when I watched her swoop to her boss Heng Xiaojun's side to wordlessly point to something I'd once written that was supposed to bolster his position in the exchange he was having with me.

In that original March encounter, I was left distinctly unimpressed by her conduct of the interview. She did most of the talking and elicited almost nothing from me.

I had virtually no contact with her once I moved to FAC and began teaching, but it was nonetheless clear that Wang Yan was special. She was unique among my colleagues, Chinese and Western, in her disdain for such elementary courtesies as smiling in acknowledgment when passing in the hallway or exchanging a few words when paths crossed. The grand lady would sweep by, apparently too preoccupied by affairs of state to let mortals in the vicinity distract her.

I heard also that she was a bit of a terror when dressing down colleagues or students.

What did someone like this do to get promoted, I wondered.

I had a fleeting encounter with Wang Yan early in the semester at the FAC "opening ceremony" at which Chinese Vice-Premier Qian Qichen spoke. As I arrived, together with other Western teachers, arrangements were being made for interpreters to sit individually beside or behind us so we'd understand the proceedings. As we were milling about while this was being organized, Wang Yan approached and fixed me with a critical glare:

"Will you be needing an interpreter?"

What did this mean? If I were one of the exceptional Westerners who spoke Chinese anywhere near well enough to follow such an event, she would hardly be unaware of it.

At the time, I had no explanation whatsoever for her apparent hostility. Now I know it may have been because of the crazy man's anonymous messages that I learned about much later.

I gazed at her and calmly answered, after a pause of a moment or two: "Guess."

This unexpected audacity brought her a split-second of confusion, but she rapidly recovered, maintaining her regal aloofness with the retort:

"I don't know; you've been in China several years haven't you?"

"No," was all I gave her. I smiled to show insincere regret over the misunderstanding.

I'd been in China two years. Not "several."

One gets a query something like this occasionally -- a shyly smiling "Do you speak Chinese?" which usually means: "Hey -- you haven't learned our language. And we've learned yours. Shame on you."

It's too bad English is the international language. It's also too bad your universities exchange anonymous messages from lunatics maligning responsible teachers. That's life. Get used to it (like I'm trying to).

But the query doesn't generally reflect any real hostility; it's just part of the latent attitude of morose victimhood and wounded pride that some Chinese feel vis-a-vis the West. I usually bounce back with a cheerful, "Sure: yi ar san" (one, two, three), which unfailingly brings a laugh.

But those who most need to get used to Westerners who don't speak Chinese, I would think, are senior administrators at universities that hire such Westerners as faculty members.

*   *   *

In fairness I will insert some balance here, following a conversation last night with a bright young Chinese woman who has socialized with Westerners in China and is understandably bothered by some behaviors she's seen.

Lots of things are screwed up in the West -- think of banks, airlines, Bell Canada (if you know it), the SEC, many many other things -- but what strikes the Westerner in China are the novel (for him) screwups, the unfamiliar types of ridiculousness. What's also sometimes breathtaking for the Westerner in China is the unabashedness of some types of silliness. In the West, where there is at least some comprehension of what's expected, one is accustomed to false pretenses.

Some unreflective Westerners my friend has seen thus spend a fair amount of time carping and feeling superior. (I am gambling that this won't produce hoots from unreflective readers.)

Furthermore, the lady points out, some of these Westerners, often English teachers in private language schools, while enjoying unearned prestige with some credulous Chinese people as representatives of a superior society, may actually be bums or nobodies where they come from.

*   *   *

But to return to the charming Prof. Wang, I believe there is only one other occasion when we had anything to do with each other. One occasion, that is, prior to The Troubles -- which naturally brought us together again because, as it turned out, she seemed to be considered to be more or less my boss.

I was in the foreign affairs office one day, talking with her subordinates Li Jing and Yang Ning about problems with the FAC email service they'd arranged for me (which routinely lost mail). They said they'd report the problems to the responsible parties but they obviously considered it futile. The problems would never get fixed.

All right. They were powerless to change that. But why, I asked them, had they arranged this dysfunctional service for me in the first place, and why had we already spent time reporting problems, if they knew the service was hopeless?

Wang Yan was constantly swooping in and out of that office (her own was elsewhere, presumably nearby; I never saw it), and she entered as I was posing the question. She never bothered with the FAC service, she announced -- too many emails were lost. She used a different service from home.

She then presented a terse observation, a piece of wisdom which had possibly eluded me: "there's no such thing as a free lunch."

The merry Li Jing emitted a rich laugh as this point was scored. It was indeed true that FAC did not charge us for the email service. "That's right," she echoed, "no such thing as a free lunch."

17. Pain in the Chest

Sent: Saturday, January 18, 2003 5:03 PM

The FAC foreign affairs office was the source of some other irritations, beyond dysfunctional email. Various actions or omissions were at odds with the staff's superficial eagerness to help. Why, I wondered, could a little more effort not be spared for us highly valued "foreign experts"?

My wondering was done aloud, and the response was ...? Not reflection, repentance, repair -- but resentment. And it looked like it would persist unless I did something to take care of it. So I eventually arranged a meeting with staff member Yang Ning (Rebecca), whom I saw regularly and considered a friend. It was towards the end of this meeting that, out of the blue, I was given my first indication of The Troubles. But it was too unbelievable, so I dismissed it as one of the typical arbitrary misunderstandings that are so prevalent here and didn't give it much further thought.

One issue is shown in the following email exchange with Rebecca:


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
To: Rebecca
Sent: Friday, October 18, 2002 9:15 AM
Subject: a few questions

Dear Rebecca,

http://www.fac.edu.cn/eindex/overview.htm says of FAC: "the College has an international speakers programme which attracts many well-known scholars, world-renowned statesmen, ambassadors, and other senior diplomats."

Is this true? I've been teaching here for about 8 weeks now and have never heard of any speaker, except the day of our opening ceremony.

I might mention that the website is substantially out of date, since it says: "The College plans to expand its student population to 2,700 by the year 2000."

Regards,

Uriel

--------------------------------------------------

From: Rebecca
To: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Wednesday, October 23, 2002 1:51 PM
Subject: Re: a few questions

Hi, Uriel,

I am sorry for writing back late. Our college does invite some well-known scholars, ambassadors etc. to give lectures to students and teachers. But the notices for the lectures are in Chinese.

I agree the college should update the website.

Best regards

Rebecca

--------------------------------------------------

From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
To: Rebecca
Sent: Tuesday, October 22, 2002 10:43 PM
Subject: Re: a few questions

Dear Rebecca,

Here is a test for you: tell me why "I agree the college should update the website" is not the answer I want to hear.

Regards,

Uriel

--------------------------------------------------

From: Rebecca
To: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Thursday, October 24, 2002 5:48 AM
Subject: Re: a few questions

Dear Uriel,

Thank you for your concern about our college. I can tell someone in charge of the website that they should update the information in FAC's website, but I don't know if they could do as what I suggest. I could do nothing if they don't update it. I am sorry for that.

Rebecca


She knew the website would never get updated. So she knew what she was offering was useless.

If "world-renowned statesmen" were delivering English-language speeches on campus and we Western teachers were being left oblivious of the events, I felt that that indicated negligence, if not contempt, on the part of FAC.

How hard would it be for the foreign affairs office to routinely send an email addressed to all 10 of us to notify us of noteworthy upcoming lectures?

That's what Rebecca ultimately began doing, after further prodding. But the above exchange illustrates the resistance to real helpfulness.

Another of the irritations involved a physical irritation, a mild chest rash I developed in late September. I ignored it for a while but it worsened, so while travelling in Shandong Province during the National Day holiday week (Oct. 1 to 7), I stopped in at a pharmacy and got some ointment, which helped. When I ran out of the ointment, after returning to FAC, I was advised by Rebecca that the school had a medical clinic that supplied such medications.

At the clinic they examined my chest, and we agreed I should get more of the same ointment. However, they didn't have any in their supplies. The routine in such cases was apparently to send the patient to the pharmacy across the street, where he could buy the needed medication and then get reimbursed by the clinic.

I went to the pharmacy, where they also had a look at my chest. They also didn't have the medication I'd gotten in Shandong, but they gave me a substitute.

About a week later I'd run out of that too so I got another refill from the pharmacy, and got reimbursed a second time from the FAC medical clinic.

I was assiduously applying the ointment according to instructions, but the condition persisted, so I finally googled the medicine's name as shown on the package -- Ciprofloxacin Hydrochloride Ointment.

To my surprise, the results indicated the ointment was used to treat eye infections (or sometimes ear infections). Surely there was some mistake.

I dug out the paper insert from the package and found the chemical formula:

C{17}H{18}FN{3}0{3}.HCl.H{2}0
[subscripts shown in curly braces]

But this exactly matched what I found on the websites.

I'd imagined I was carpet-bombing whatever bug had invaded me. But I'd merely been pestering the pest.

I shared my revelation with Rebecca, who'd sent me to the FAC medical clinic in the first place. She advised that I go see a real doctor, at a Beijing hospital she named.

I was generally pretty busy, but a couple days later I called Susie, one of my Law students, and arranged to go to the hospital with her the next day. She brought a friend, and the three of us set out in a taxi in the afternoon.

But on the way I wondered -- Rebecca had implied I should simply go there, but shouldn't some kind of prior arrangement be made? So I had Susie call her from the taxi (using a device possessed by nearly all students).

There was a somewhat extensive exchange. Nothing, it seems, is ever simple here. When the call was finished I asked Susie what it was about. She told me Rebecca had asked her to tell the doctor to avoid prescribing expensive medication.

The rash had persisted for over 3 weeks, apparently prolonged because of the school clinic's errors. But for Rebecca, it seemed, the school's economy came before my health.

I'd have undertaken carpet-bombing at my own expense if the school wouldn't pay for more than harassment campaigns. But if a cheap prescription could be arranged behind my back, the embarrassing issue of who should pay didn't need to arise at all.

It was I who'd been wronged. But they were upset, standoffish, silent, because I'd raised it (along with other issues).

It was up to me: I had to undertake a diplomatic initiative. This is what I set out to do when I arranged an October 31 meeting with Rebecca.

In the meeting, to her credit, she swallowed, admitted error and apologized. So I forgave her. But after we'd talked for a while, she abruptly warned that there had been a mid-term evaluation of my teaching, and that a report to the leaders, signed by all the students, said the students were dissatisfied with my teaching.

"Dissatisfied?" I laughed. "The students love my teaching."

Had her apology been insincere? Had the bug survived, to replicate further? Was she vexed at the directness that had brought her to an outright apology?

But she said it was true -- all the Law students had signed a negative report about me.

"I don't believe it," I said. (That didn't mean I didn't trust her personally.)

I mentioned that I had an agreement with the school under which I'd be reimbursed for my travel expense from Toronto if my student evaluations were above average. I hoped, I told her, there wouldn't be a dispute over these terms.

I asked her: "Were the students pressured in some way?"

She had no information suggesting that. But she seemed not fully informed. Perhaps unsure in the face of my skepticism, she said perhaps further investigation was needed.

"But Uriel," she added. "When dealing with the students, you should really be ...."

I completed the sentence for her: "More gentle."

"Yes," she said gravely.

What must readers think of me? I'm in fact a perfectly warm and fuzzy teacher. And it remains true to this day that not a few students really did love my teaching.

But this view of my ultra-strictness seems to reflect a condition of Chinese universities that is much at odds with what might be imagined in the West. Although certainly students don't have easy lives, and they're pressured by the system to work long hours, my impression of the way they are personally handled by teachers and school authorities is that it is exceedingly mild. It seems that they are hardly ever rebuked; that there is no toughness, no confrontation, no direct arguments, no demands that objective standards be met.

I put the question, neutrally, to a Chinese friend who graduated 10 years ago: how are university students treated?

It depends on the university, he says, but in many, they're treated very leniently.

Why? Because, he explains, the teachers are themselves under considerable pressure to publish articles, and they're relatively indifferent to their teaching. The students face little pressure and are fairly free to do much as they like. Even in their major subjects, students can go to the teacher's home if there is a risk of failing -- before the exam to get hints about contents, afterwards to wheedle for leniency or a few extra points.

The CET 4 (College English Test, Level 4) required for graduation is the main threat faced by students. That's run by the government, not the schools, and there's no leniency. And you don't cheat on that test -- the penalties are relatively severe.

In university courses, on the other hand, cheating is common and most teachers don't care.

My friend is struck by a sudden thought. He had a Western teacher -- a 24-year-old woman from the U.S.

"She was very nice, and a very responsible teacher. But she used to get very angry when students cheated," he adds with wonderment.

"She was very charming," he continues, "she often smiled, a very nice smile. But she hated it when students cheated."

He is wearing a sober expression: "I remember that very clearly."

The teacher's peculiarity has left a deep impression.

I guess an additional reason teachers might not want to annoy students is the ever-present possibility of anonymous letters.

*   *   *

Among the unresolved mysteries of China, incidentally, is my medical treatment (the only time I've been treated for anything in China). The insert for the Ciprofloxacin Hydrochloride Ointment package I bought in Beijing says (in Chinese) that it's suitable for skin rashes (which helps explain why the pharmacy and clinic dispensed it to me). But how can the insert's information conflict with websites of Western pharmaceutical companies that produce the same product? Is Chinese physiology different? It's been suggested that Western people have built up greater resistance to various medications, but that doesn't explain it very satisfactorily either.

18. Uncertain Clouds Gather

Sent: Monday, January 20, 2003 10:55 PM


From: Rebecca
To: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Saturday, November 02, 2002 9:13 AM
Subject: Our director wants to talk with you

Hi, Uriel,

Our director Prof. Wang Yan wants to talk with you this afternoon. Will you please come to R 130 at 3:00 pm this afternoon?

Rebecca


The message was really sent Friday, November 1, 2002 11:39 AM (Rebecca's computer clock tended to be incorrectly set), and it struck me as just a little bit peremptory. How can people send an email at 11:39 AM proposing a meeting for 3:00 PM the same day?

But isn't that just how you'd expect the imperial Wang Yan to inform a subject of his required audience?

If the gulf between my feelings for Wang Yan and, say, puppy dog love, had not been as vast, I might have ... no, not agreed to meet then, certainly not, I had a squash appointment ... but I might have replied.

It was regrettable, but please, people, let's fight the tears, worse fates have befallen hubris. Until she heard back, Prof. Wang had a one-sided commitment to present herself at "R 130" at 3 PM. And (although I was working at home and the message reached me promptly) I was unfortunately not disposed to reply til the next morning.

Anyway, one thing I learned from the message was that Wang Yan was the boss of the foreign affairs office. I'd never known that.

As I rushed out a couple of hours later to get to my squash game on time, I saw that a note had been discreetly affixed outside my apartment door, indicating that her majesty expected me at 3 PM. (Evidently it was known that I was at home.) But hey, I was in a hurry, so I let it ride.

That night was a special night. As at Tsinghua the year before, I had two student volunteers in each class (for a total of 14 volunteers) who assisted me by distributing the readings I emailed them and by emailing me student info for my database. I'd invited them for dinner and was meeting them that night at a nice restaurant near FAC. We had a private room with, of course, the obligatory karaoke music box.

The vagaries of Beijing traffic returned me to FAC slightly early after squash, so I had a bit of time before the dinner. I went to say hello at the foreign affairs office.

Li Jing was indignant. "We were waiting for you. Why didn't you tell us?!"

It's nice to have at least one memory of her not mirthful.

I was equally indignant: "I was in a hurry."

Wang Yan appeared, a slight smile of disdain assuring me I had not made her suffer: "It doesn't matter, we can meet Monday. It's not so urgent."

"I have five minutes to talk now, if that's convenient," I offered.

"No, I think that's not enough time. It's best we wait til Monday."

"Can you give me an idea what it's about?" I asked pleasantly.

"I think it's best that we wait til Monday to discuss it."

"All right. I'll have to check my schedule. Are you available Tuesday, in case I'm not free Monday?"

"That should be alright too. Please let Rebecca know."

I was genuinely curious about what we'd discuss. But it would have to wait. I went off on my bicycle to eat, drink, talk and sing with my students.

*   *   *

Monday, November 4, 3:00 PM. My phone rang. I happened to be working at home and I answered. It was Rebecca.

"Hi," I said, wondering why she was calling. I'd called her Saturday to set the appointment for Tuesday at 3 PM.

"Umm ... did we say Tuesday for the appointment?" she asked.

"Yes," I answered, surprised.

"Are you sure we didn't say Monday?" she asked plaintively.

It was then that I looked at my watch and realized: through some unaccountable folly, Rebecca had gotten it wrong and told Wang Yan to expect me on Monday at 3:00 PM. Her Highness, for a second time, was being kept waiting for an audience that would not appear.

19. My Goals

Sent: Monday, January 20, 2003 10:56 PM

I assumed that what Wang Yan wanted to discuss was a situation that had arisen immediately before, on October 29, in one of my night school classes.

Several people in my present abode in south China, hearing of my FAC troubles, have nodded their heads and told me that FAC students are not ordinary students -- their parents are Party officials. (If so, that was never very obvious while I was there.) However, that would not apply to the night school students. On the whole they were a slightly beaten-down bunch, weary from day jobs, occasionally arriving late to class when I knew they'd be on time if they could. They were also distinctly older, most in their late 20's or 30's.

They'd previously acquired 2- or 3-year diplomas at colleges, some years earlier. They were in the first year of an upgrade program which would earn them Bachelor's degrees in English in 3 years. At this point, however, their English was abysmal -- markedly worse than any of my other classes.

Some time into the semester I was hit by the realization that these poor students didn't even know each other. Each week, on two weeknights and on Saturdays, the same students met and sat together in their various classes (including mine); but most never saw each other outside class. Truly theirs was an impoverished academic experience.

My toughest task in teaching was always to find good, short, snazzy, compelling, and generally appropriate readings. For my first class of night school, my more mature students, I'd chosen, before meeting them, a New Yorker piece that's so wonderful I present it here in its entirety:


My Goals
by Ellis Weiner
New Yorker Magazine
Sept 2, 2002

I wanted to make my first million by the time I turned twenty-five. By thirty, I was going to break into double digits. By thirty-five, I'd be executive vice-president--and by forty I'd buy the company. By the time I was forty-five, I would be acquiring other companies, with the aim of creating an international biochemical-entertainment conglomerate that could maybe, just maybe, make a difference.

Ambitious? Hey. Why not?

All along, of course, I'd be planning for retirement. How? By setting up a diverse portfolio of stocks and bonds, which I would then manage shrewdly, under the guidance of skilled financial consultants, dedicated professionals sensitive to my specific investment style--my tolerance for risk, my interest in particular sectors of what has become an increasingly global economy. They'd be knowledgeable about long-term strategies and committed to helping me realize my unique, individual vision for the future.

Then, at fifty-five, I would retire--just cash out and walk away, so I could concentrate on the important things. I'd want to spend more time with my family--good, solid time, really connecting with the kids, because our children are our future. And as for my wife, the woman who would have stood beside me during those years of hard work and sacrifice, and who would understand, better than anyone, how much I'd want to build a boat by hand and sail it around the world with my dog . . . well, I planned to get to know her, and fall in love with her, all over again.

I'd have other goals for retirement. I'd want to do something good for the earth, because this is the only planet we've got. And I'd want to do some "crazy" things, too--maybe learn to play the cello, or explore my creativity by writing and painting, to express myself, sure, but for other reasons as well. I figured by then I'd have accumulated a lifetime of experience (and perhaps even a bit of wisdom!), and it would be time to give something back--to the community, to our nation, and to the world. Because that's what I'm all about.

Then, at the end of the day, I'd sit on a dock looking out over a clear mountain lake, and fish, at sunset, with my wife and my children, and their wives and their children and maybe even their children's wives, and my good old dog, secure in the knowledge that, after a lifetime of work, we were all provided for, no matter what, and that if something happened to me they would be protected.

Now, though, I'm thirty-six, and I have different goals. Paying for my kids' college education. Paying for my kids' high-school education. Paying for my kids' high-school knapsacks. And not only theirs. I want to pay for my stepkids' education and school supplies, too--because, if I don't, my second wife, their mother, will kill me. And I want to pay twenty-seven per cent of the educational expenses of my ex-wife's stepkids, her second husband's kids from his second wife, after his first wife left him to do the things on her "list of life goals," like skydiving nude over all seven continents, and after his second wife, the mother of his kids, joined the Peace Corps to give something back to the community, which in this case turned out to be the community of Lugoj, Romania. Why twenty-seven per cent? Because the husband's in rehab and my ex has her hands full with the kids and the ostrich farm, and it is what the court has told me to do.

I respect the court. The court administers the laws, and that's what we're all about. We're a nation of laws, not men. It also turns out that we're a nation of women. And we're a nation of children, and knapsacks, and other educational expenses. But I'll tell you something we're not. We're not a nation of people who want to eat ostriches. Or their eggs.

And so my outlook has changed, and I find myself doing things I'd never have imagined before. It used to be that whenever I entered a room I wanted to make an impression. Not to do anything showy or loud, but just to convey, by a certain word or gesture or laugh, a kind of presence. Now? Now whenever I enter a room I want to wash my hands. Yes, it's "crazy," and, believe me, most of the time I don't actually do it. For one thing, I can't. Most rooms don't have sinks. So what I do instead is cry--openly, freely, in public, all the time.

Maybe it's not surprising that my short-term objectives have shifted. I don't think as much about making executive vice-president anymore. Instead, every day I try to take a nice hot bath. Oh, sure, my kids think it's weird and my stepkids think it's goofy and my ex-wife thinks it's pathetic and my current wife thinks it's sick--I don't know how it is at your house, but at mine everybody has an opinion! But I love my family, and, besides, once they start criticizing, if I sing loud enough they really don't bother me.

As for my long-term goals--well, I guess they're the same ones that everybody has: financial security for myself and my loved ones, a quality health plan, and the chance to kick back and really enjoy my golden years with whichever beloved wife I happen to be married to at the time.

And I'm going to get there. How? By acquiring wealth. Which means finding a job--in biochemicals, or entertainment, or anything else that doesn't involve ostriches, and that pays me in money, or wealth, or cash, or whatever, and that gets me out of the house.

Because I want to spend less time with my family. Call it a goal, call it a dream, call it a "game plan for life," but, until retirement, that's my vision for the future: a job that pays money, somewhere not home.

Demanding? Hey. Why not?


20. The Tender Trap

Sent: Wednesday, January 22, 2003 12:20 AM

Readers, I know you already had your wallets out for the glittering shop just up the road, but we must turn back, it's unavoidable, I take full responsibility, I must commend to you just a few very particular little places we forgot to stop in along the way.

*   *   *

In explaining "My Goals" to the night students, I maintained a poker face. "My first million" meant his first million dollars, "double digits" meant ten million or more, a "biochemical-entertainment conglomerate" would be a good thing to own because it covers today's main hot fields, "making a difference" meant having some impact for the better on one's world.

We went on from the narrator's former goals to his current ones, and to the complexities of his marital history, his spouse's and ex-spouse's marital histories, and the profitability of ostrich farms compared to the biochem or entertainment fields.

The students struggled to follow my English. They had a serious mien as we went through the escalating achievements of the early goals, then the knapsack support obligations and spousal skydiving aspirations relating to the later ones.

Towards the end of the 90 minutes I asked them what they thought the piece meant.

Their responses are ... I take full responsibility ... lost in time. I didn't note them, and I forget. But it was eventually necessary to disclose to them: "People. This is humor." They'd had no idea.

*   *   *


To: Uriel
Sent: Saturday, October 19, 2002 4:18 PM
Subject: Re

Dear sir:
We don't really like the formality of the present oral class. We ever took the oral class before like this: We were given some hot issues of the society and discussed .Everyone can could be practised speaking English during the course.But now I almost say nothing of the course in a month.I hope you will not be angry about my words.We hope we can improve our oral level through your teaching.Would you take this advise and try to change? We will appreciate a lot.

Best wishes.

Your students


"who are you?" I replied the same day. I knew the answer. The return email address was shown, and I had my database. But I found the intended anonymity objectionable, and the "Your students" attribution less than honest. But I got no answer to this query, nor to my followup a week later.

The sender was a woman of 25 to 30 called Tina. I heard from another student that she was a schoolteacher. She always sat in the back beside her friend, whose English name was Ice. Neither ever talked to the others, as far as I could see, and neither participated in my class other than by sitting in it.

I would routinely call on various students to answer questions. Ice's reaction was unique. When I asked her a question, early in the semester, she didn't even offer the "I don't know" or "sorry" responses I often heard from others; she utterly ignored me, as if I hadn't said anything. I pressed her a bit -- "Hello?" -- but she remained adamantly silent. Other students cast discreet glances towards her. She was either very defiant -- for no reason I could pierce -- or kinda nuts.

I moved on. She wasn't interfering with the class and my job was to teach, not deal with problems like this. When I tried again another day and got the same response, I gave up on her for good.

Tina and her email were a different matter, however. During the mid-class break on October 29, I took her aside outside the classroom and told her bluntly that if she produced any more anonymous harassment I'd complain about her to the administration. She began telling me some lie about how she hadn't been reading email and hadn't received my two inquiries but I ignored her and went back to the classroom to resume the class:


The Tender Trap

(Cahn/van Heusen)

You see a pair of laughing eyes
And suddenly you're sighing sighs
You're thinking nothing's wrong
You string along, boy, then snap!

Those eyes, those sighs, they're part of the tender trap

You're hand in hand beneath the trees
And soon there's music in the breeze
You're acting kind of smart, until your heart just goes wap!

Those trees, that breeze, they're part of the tender trap

Some starry night, when her kisses make you tingle
She'll hold you tight, and you'll hate yourself for being single

And all at once it seems so nice
The folks are throwing shoes and rice
You hurry to a spot, that's just a dot on the map

You're hooked, you're cooked, you're caught in the tender trap

Some starry night, when her kisses make you tingle
She'll hold you tight, and you'll hate yourself for being single

And all at once it seems so nice
The folks are throwing shoes and rice
You hurry to a spot that's just a dot on the map

And then you wonder how it all came about
It's too late now there's no gettin' out
You fell in love, and love is the tender trap


It's not T.S. Eliot, but it's clever, it sounds great (as sung by Frank Sinatra), and it's full of little lessons for the Chinese about the Western species. These students knew nothing about us, our lingo or the way we think. What snapped? What's the dot on the map? What's it mean to be cooked?

Granted, that last is obsolete. It's easy to imagine a Chinese student exclaiming, "I'm cooked!" instead of the contemporary "I'm screwed!" The educational regime here requires the absorption of many wholly out-of-date English idioms, and some of the Chinese are bold in striving to put what they don't realize are history lessons to practical use with authentic English speakers like us. (Just today someone was confusing me with something involving "irons in the stove.") It never sounds natural. My advice: jettison all idioms.

Frankly, I had the night school class in thrall as I delivered a monologue explaining one point after another about this song. Between my words, you could have heard (the jettisoning advice was for the Chinese) a pin drop.

Then abruptly, the mood was shattered. There was a noisy shuffling of papers in the back, and audible exhalations advertising vexation.

Tina.

I initially thought perhaps offense had been taken at what a modern sensibility might regard as the latent sexism of the song. But other students explained to me afterwards that, weirdly, Tina was exhibiting a delayed reaction to my rebuke during the break, 30 minutes earlier.

"Excuse me," I asked. "Is there a problem here?"

Silence.

No no no, that wasn't going to work here. When she ignored a couple of further queries, I walked right up to where she was sitting at the back of the classroom.

The dilemma: wring her neck -- or smack her face?

See readers, that's what you think of me. Your assumptions about me are totally out of line.

But it did scare her a smidgeon. I am a Westerner, and the Chinese are never fully confident that we won't suddenly do something totally berserk. One sees this routinely when riding a bicycle. As soon as they espy a Westerner, they give him a wide berth, figuring a tumultuous crash is imminent.

My proximity did break Tina's silence. When I told her to leave the room, she responded that she had a right to be there.

Veterans of my pedagogical exploits are familiar with the routine, which played out again here. I insisted; she refused; I said I'd leave if she didn't; she didn't; and I left -- 15 minutes before the normal end of class. The students never got to hear Sinatra sing the song we'd studied, as they otherwise would have.

My view was simple. Tina had to miss the next class. [Note to veterans: two years have taught me nothing.] This gave rise to some unresolved contention in meetings October 30 and 31 with the night school administration.

It seemed logical to assume that this was what lay behind Wang Yan's November 1 summons. There was nothing else on the horizon.

21. China and the Foreign Country

Sent: Friday, January 24, 2003 7:58 PM

I'd already met with night school administrator Xu Min (Vivian) October 21, before the Tina incident, to discuss complaints from students that the material I was assigning was too difficult. It wasn't. "My Goals" was doable, and most articles were easier. The problem was that students didn't spend the expected 4 hours a week studying the material in preparation for class.

"You want a university degree," I told these diploma holders on a few occasions. "But you don't want to do the work."

Did their difficult lives preclude spending the time needed on homework?

Should universities promote social justice by graduating unqualified students?

Anyway, it was highly doubtful that they couldn't find the time. Laziness was the likelier explanation -- not the understandable tendency to avoid boring tasks, but a resistance to new ideas and an unwillingness to disturb settled routines or upset the accumulated dust on unused brains.

My feeling is hardly unique. During a chance stop in a library shortly after writing the words above, the headline "Teaching students not to think" catches my eye, and I read this sympathetic lament from England, by a teacher of A-levels (comparable to university freshman level in the U.S.):


It is the first week of the new academic year, ten minutes into my lecture on 'Erasmus and Renaissance Humanism', when I notice that the girl in the front row has a worried expression. I put on my special ingratiating junior-lecturer smile. 'Any questions?' Shyly, she holds up her copy of the reading-list, still hot from the photocopier. 'Excuse me ...but the staple's come off this handout.'

I was reminded of this little incident when I read the former education secretary Estelle Morris's impassioned defence of A-level students as 'among the best and the brightest in the world'. The university students I teach are, almost without exception, charming young people, quiet and well behaved, with nice middle-class names like Hannah and Rebecca. Their faces are clean and glowing with health. They attend my lectures, obediently taking notes. They hand in their essays on time. There is only one problem -- they lack even the slightest spark of initiative or intellectual curiosity.

Perhaps I shouldn't complain too much. After all, I teach in a top-rated department of a top-rated university, firmly ensconced in the upper reaches of the academic league tables. Many of my colleagues are not so lucky. Recently, I was talking to a friend who teaches in a further education (FE) college in London. What, I asked, did she think of the A-level students who passed through her hands? She was highly amused by my naivety. 'My lot don't have A-levels -- [they don't] have qualifications of any kind. Basically, my job is to teach them to read and write.' She didn't seem unduly concerned by this state of affairs, though she added wistfully that she wished they wouldn't bring knives into the classroom. [...]

Today's students are terrified of taking a point of view, in case it turns out to be wrong. Confronted with a direct question -- 'Was the Protestant Reformation a success?' -- they will twist and turn to avoid giving a direct answer. 'In conclusion' -- this, by the way, is a genuine quotation from a first-year essay, not my own invention -- 'it is clear that while some have regarded the Reformation as a success, others have regarded it as a failure, and we may therefore say with confidence that it is a very complex matter.'

What they want, of course, is simple pre-packaged answers, A-level-style, to copy into their notebooks and reproduce in their essays, solemnly footnoted. My feeble efforts to encourage discussion and debate -- 'Well, it's really for you to make up your own minds' -- are received with mutinous silence. It's not difficult to read their thoughts. 'He's the teacher, he knows the answers, it's his job to tell us the answers, why doesn't he tell us the answers?'

["Teaching students not to think," by Andrew Conway, The Spectator, 7 December 2002]


I doubted, for instance, that my students were total abstainers from the bane of TV. Why then couldn't they sacrifice a few viewing hours for the experiences resulting from a Shanghainese woman's discovery, when she was in 10th grade, that she could apply to American universities "just like any American teenager"?


Even when I was very small, my mother had told me that I could do anything and be anyone, and that smart people went abroad to study. I hadn't known there were many countries; I had thought there were only two: China and the Foreign Country. I remember wishing I had been born in the Foreign Country.

Now, here I was.

My admission to Yale on a full scholarship was part of the larger trend to diversify American campuses (and I did score in the top fifth percentile on the G.R.E.). As Kingman Brewster, the former president of Yale, once wrote, "An excessively homogeneous class will not learn anywhere near as much from each other as a class whose backgrounds and interests and values have something new to contribute to the common experience."

Today, almost 8 percent of Yale's students come from abroad, and that figure is likely to grow. In 2000, Yale joined Princeton, Harvard and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in admitting international students regardless of their ability to pay. For the class of 2005, Yale admitted nine freshmen directly from China, a record, and all with full financial aid. In 1994, I was the only one.

["Coming to America," by Yilu Zhao, New York Times, January 13, 2002]


In case a compatriot's report of life in the U.S. wasn't sufficiently motivating, the article opened with the lure, "I had never expected my first class at Yale to be this: a freshman counselor brandishing a fake penis, looking for a volunteer to demonstrate how to use a condom."

If this couldn't penetrate student sluggishness, what could?

When Vivian and I met October 21, and I showed her the readings we'd been doing, she saw it my way. These were good materials; my demands weren't excessive; the malcontents were being lazy. She supported me and said she'd speak to the class.

Post-Tina, however, our views were less compatible. She proposed an apology from Tina (that's always easy), but I felt Tina should miss the next class. Vivian couldn't agree, though she conceded Tina's email was dishonest. At some point in our discussion Vivian appeared to lose her ability to speak English, and we concluded I should discuss the issue with her boss, the Vice Director of FAC's night program.

I eventually relented on the Tina suspension -- it seemed this would be too radical for FAC -- but Vivian had been miffed. Maybe her English fluency failed to return after we parted. Certain students with whom I was friends told me she solicited student input about me shortly afterwards, and that her survey was not exceptionally impartial; some students had the feeling she was angry with me. And the student feedback, apparently, was negative. But the administration never discussed any survey of night school students with me.

I didn't actually connect with Vivian's boss, Ms. Tong Xin, til a couple of weeks later, by which point the Tina issue was history. She told me she'd talked with students about me and was satisfied with my teaching. But she also had the idea that I'd sought to punish Tina by banishing her from all future classes.

How had such a wild misconception arisen, I wondered. Vivian being devious? Of course, it was futile to try to find out.

22. Values

Sent: Friday, January 24, 2003 8:21 PM

November 5. Night.

The Tina incident had occurred a week before. Vivian had surveyed the night students about me in the week since. Responses had reportedly been negative.

And Tina was present in class, unavoidably.

Plus of course I'd finally met that afternoon with the redoubtable Wang Yan, who'd given me some surprising news. We'll certainly be going there quite soon now. (If this is a roller coaster, that meeting marks the end of the ascent portion. Expect the pace to pick up on the downturn.)

All in all, a suitable backdrop for a discussion of values.

It happened I'd collected writing assignments the week before on the subject of values. We'd done Yilu Zhao's "Coming to America," and I'd raised the question: what might the former Yale president have had in mind when he wrote, "An excessively homogeneous class will not learn anywhere near as much from each other as a class whose backgrounds and interests and values have something new to contribute to the common experience"?

Were they encountering different values? I asked the class. What were they?

The submissions I'd received were mostly terribly boring. Several addressed, instead of the question posed, the differences between Chinese and Western culture: Chinese people value harmony and try to help each other, but in the West the most important thing people care about is money. This Chinese cliche recurred in several students' assignments.

I'd been looking, of course, for discussion topics more captivating than "money is not everything." But as I reflected, it seemed the students weren't being much duller than the former Yale president. Could you be a little more specific, Kingman? What are some of these differing values?

In fact, the wonderfulness of values diversity always seems to be celebrated in the abstract.

It might be interesting to discuss some specific values that not everyone in the classroom felt identically about; values that real, normal people could disagree about.

This was the objective as I constructed some short anecdotes with which to shake, rattle and roll the students. There was also an additional goal, topicality, which I didn't mean to neglect:


You're a teacher. Some of your students are quite friendly. Others act as if you are not an important person. You will not fail anyone who deserves to pass your course, but you make sure that the students with a bad attitude do not get more than 80%. Also, if a nice student is a little bit below the passing grade, you will change it so that the student passes.

You're a student, asked by the school to rate the educational value of a course. In fact you are learning a few things in the course, but the teacher has angered you several times, so you take revenge -- this may be your only chance -- by giving him a low rating.

A co-worker arranges a time to meet you to discuss something that seems important to him. In the meeting he explains why he feels that something you did was wrong. You don't agree with him but you don't think you can change his mind, so you say: "It's true, what I did was wrong. I apologize."

Your parents love you and hope you will be a success. When you do badly at school you tell them you are doing great so as to make them happy.

Your friend's husband has several girlfriends. It's no secret to anyone but her. You don't tell her because it's too embarrassing.

Your husband has lipstick on his collar. You don't use lipstick. You don't think about what this might mean because you don't want to be unhappy.

Your mother, whom you love, has cancer and will die in a week. The doctor won't tell her because it's too embarrassing. Your mother asks you what the secret is that everyone is keeping from her but you can't tell her the truth either because you want her to be happy. You assure her she'll be doing cartwheels within a month.

After a dispute with someone, you go to your friend to be consoled. But instead, the friend tells you the other person was right. You are very disappointed with your friend's disloyalty but you hide your feeling.

You're friends with the parents of a 20-year-old woman who is a student at FAC. She was friendly with a young man of whom her parents disapprove, but lately there has been a misunderstanding -- you do not know the details -- and they stopped talking to each other. One day you stop at her dorm to drop off a package for her on behalf of her parents. There is no one there, but you notice that a gift box has been left in the room for her. You look in the attached envelope and see there is a card from the young man. It seems he wants to resume the friendship. You put the box and envelope under your coat and leave quietly, then later hide the items at home. Perhaps you will give them to the girl in a few years, but for now you want to protect her and help her parents.

You work for a small, rapidly growing company. The leader, Mr. Liu, is energetic and ambitious. You're one of his main assistants and he trusts you. You feel you have a bright future with him. One of Mr. Liu's recent ventures is the medical certification business. For 200,000 RMB, Mr. Liu will "assess" a doctor. If the assessment is positive, he will produce a framed certificate which the doctor can hang on his wall saying that the doctor is excellent and outstanding. There has never been a negative assessment. Your job is to go around to some "medical experts" who are friends of Mr. Liu's to collect the signatures for the certificates. You are not sure how "excellent and outstanding" the certified doctors really are but that's not your concern -- you're just doing what Mr. Liu asks you to do.

You're in a foreign country and some of the customs and attitudes shock and repel you. But you remind yourself that you are not God and you cannot judge others, and you should respect other people's cultures.

A girl in your class has told her friends that a Western teacher did something terribly immoral with her. The story is easy to believe because it's exactly the kind of thing you've always heard about Westerners. Everyone is talking about it and is very angry, and the teacher might lose his job. After a very emotional period, however, doubts about the girl's story begin to surface. But this makes you feel even worse. If your classmate's story is untrue, it will be too terrible for her. She has to stay at this school with the same classmates until graduation. The loss of face would be traumatic. The teacher, on the other hand, is a rich, happy Westerner who can bounce back no matter what happens. So you refuse to think about any suggestion that the girl's story was false.


23. Discovering Discontent

Sent: Monday, January 27, 2003 6:56 PM

November 5. Afternoon!

Wang Yan was practically smacking her lips as I arrived for our appointment.

"All right, good," she said. "We can go in here." She was energetic, ready for this feast. We went into the meeting room beside the foreign affairs office.

She was accompanied by Wen Quan (Otto), which was slightly puzzling. I knew the ingratiating Otto as the "director" (manager in charge) of the building we foreign teachers were housed in. But after this meeting I realized he was at the same time deputy director of the foreign affairs office.

In my back-and-forth with Wang Yan over the course of the 80-minute meeting, he would helpfully jump in when she was momentarily off balance: "I think what Prof. Wang means is that ...."

Wang Yan, scowl in place, got right to the point: the deans of the Foreign Affairs and International Law departments had recently passed along to her letters from the students demanding urgent action with regard to serious problems with my teaching.

Serious problems? This was news to me.

"Who are these students?" I asked skeptically.

"Look!" she retorted, whipping out papers and holding them up to my face accusingly.

I glanced at them.

"Wang Yan, I can't read that," I told her patiently. "It's written in Chinese."

"These letters were signed by all the students. There are 33 signatures from the Law students, and 30 signatures from the Foreign Affairs students."

That seemed to be just about 100% of the students in my two Law classes and my two Foreign Affairs classes. (I later discovered one student in these four classes who had not signed.)

What on earth were the complaints?

Wang Yan actually refused to discuss details of the complaints. Details were beside the point. There was clearly something wrong with my attitude. How, she demanded rhetorically, could all the students be wrong?

And no, I couldn't get a copy of the letters. She had to protect the students from me, she said.

"You know, I think it's quite obvious to the students that I have no real power over them," I countered. "You, on the other hand, have considerable power. It's you they're afraid of, not me. Is it possible the students somehow got the impression you welcomed complaints?"

She vehemently denied this, saying she had no reason to do such a thing.

The students came to her every day to complain, she said. It was her responsibility and she was just doing her job.

It was unfortunate I'd been given no hint of all these complaints before this meeting, I commented.

Wang Yan did dole out a series of phrases from the letters in her hand: "abuse of grading power"; "no freedom of opinion"; "corpse", "mentally dead"; "harassment"; "improper invitations"; and a quotation attributed to me: "we are going to win the next war."

Improper invitations? What was that?

My contacts with female students. There had been complaints about my phone calls to the female dormitories. Male faculty members, she told me, shouldn't phone the female dormitories later than 10 PM.

That was nonsense. I'd never heard of any restrictions on communications with female students at any point in my time in China. And my impression was that FAC students, like those at Tsinghua, rarely returned to their dorms earlier than 11 PM.

She said something about going to bars with female students. Yes, I'd gone for a drink with a student on a very moderate number of occasions. Was this suddenly against the rules?

And "abuse of grading power"? Wang Yan substantiated this by saying I'd given students a mark of zero on tests. FAC was a very selective school, and these were superior students. Such a mark was highly unusual in their experience.

She went on. I didn't allow free opinions; I was too dominant with my opinions; they couldn't argue because of their weak English, so they would sit there, angry. And I would insult them. The students wanted respect, she said.

Wang Yan told me some students had complained about my invitations to join me to go shopping, and she asked what I thought of this.

Disgusting behavior, I told her. Like a betrayal -- to go to the administration behind my back instead of simply saying no if they didn't want to go. Sure, I occasionally invited students to join me for routine shopping. There'd been no suggestion of inducements, and students could easily decline or make an excuse, as some did.

She asked what I thought of the students in general. Frankly, my views hadn't changed since the report I'd submitted on my various classes one month into the semester, and I told her so. The Law students -- who'd apparently all complained about me -- were bright, interested, intellectually energetic students.

We'd reached the end of her agenda and she wrapped up.

"I want to be very clear that this is a warning," she said. "There will be a review in one month. Next time, if there's no improvement, it won't be me in the meeting but my boss, the Assistant President of FAC. And you'll lose your job."

She didn't seem to have the Chinese aversion to speaking directly, this lady. I conceded that this was clear enough.

"So there will have to be a positive change," she said.

I said I thought the first thing I'd like to do is get more information about the complaints from the students. In fact, I added sincerely, it seems a very suitable class discussion topic.

This passed her by -- she's a very bad listener -- but a little alarm rang in Otto's head, and he spoke up: "Maybe it's good to talk about this a little bit, but it should not take up too much time."

24. Discontent Denied

Sent: Tuesday, January 28, 2003 1:05 PM

"How can he have been so blind?" my readers wonder. "There were surely signs aplenty if discontent was so widespread."

This reaction betrays a perfectly natural misconception. I am tempted to give my observations an interpretive boost. With the facts so much at odds with my subjective sense of appreciative students, it's too easy to dismiss my perspective as hallucinatory, probably abetted by sycophantic students. Especially since the theory that can unify these things -- the truth as I perceived it on the ground -- posits such a weird phenomenon.

I will withhold my unifying theory for now, but be advised the facts are not completely fatal to my dependability as your guide for this ride.

I grant however that the discontent was widespread, increasingly so. That's not where your error lies.

*   *   *

We now edge back in time slightly to a period immediately preceding the meeting with Wang Yan. It begins October 16, when I held a test for one of my two classes of Law students. A student referred to here as X hadn't read the material and couldn't produce answers, so she handed in a letter instead.

X seemed somewhat apart from the other students and not very popular. She'd accompanied me shopping once, a month earlier, after which we'd had lunch together.

X's note objected to various aspects of my teaching, but then surprised me by attributing these views to her classmates as well. This led me to send 2 messages; one to X, one to the whole class:


[To: X]
Sent: Sunday, October 20, 2002 4:48 PM
Subject: your note

Dear ...,

Thanks for your note. Certainly I always want to know the truth. But is that the truth?! I thought the students loved the class. Your message prompts me to query all the students (see accompanying email). Of course I will respect your confidentiality.

Regards,

--------------------------------------------------

[To: all students in X's class]
Sent: Sunday, October 20, 2002 4:50 PM
Subject: Hate my teaching?

Students, one of your classmates informs me that "quite a lot of students" in your class are unhappy with my teaching. Is this true? I was under the impression that you are quite pleased with my class. Please discuss amongst yourselves and let's talk in class about any changes you would like.

Sincerely,


(The subject line's "Hate my teaching?" above was a facetious overstatement.)

Nobody but X herself replied:


Sent: Monday, October 21, 2002 4:14 PM
Subject: RE: your note

Dear Uriel,
Your email has caused some unnecessary trouble. And I've know that you would have a discussion on whether the Wed. 8 students "hate" your class before I checked your email. I didn't sleep well last night.
You know, I gave you the advice on that note only privately so that you may take more care of yourself. But I really don't want it to be public because in that case everyone will be embarrassed, not only you but also the students in our class and those in other classes.
We don't hate your class since you are a very responsible and careful teacher. And we do learn much from your class. You don't need to worry about this. You are a good teacher really.
What the problem is that you, a foreign teacher and us, Chinese students sometimes think in different ways because of our culture background, our education background and so on. Maybe we don't like some of your way of doing things and dealing with others.
For example, you sometimes focus on very little details and spend much class time on it. This shows you're meticulous. Unfortunately, we don't think it is so necessary. This is a problem of intrinsic understanding, not because we "hate" your class.
That's your personality, that's why you are "you". You can not make everyone like you.
OK. You may have the ability to make all the students agree with you in class, then everyone will say "Oh, Uriel, you're right! You're great!" But how can you know they will not criticize you after class? How can you make sure that they will not mock you in a language that you will never understand while they praise you in English?
So, I hope you will not make everyone embarrassed on the coming Wed. If you be kind and friendly, the student will also be kind and friendly. That is my advice.
Above is all what I want to discuss with you. If you ask me anything about this case in class, I will keep silent. Don't show my note on class and don't tell anyone where you get the message please! Otherwise my classmates will never forgive me. Please give me the least protection, is that OK? Thanks!

Yours,


She also left a message for me to phone her. When I called, she told me it had become known that she was the student who'd told me students were displeased. (This meant she'd told the others -- unless they somehow guessed. I'd told no one. Perhaps she got involved in a discussion of my public message before she read my private message assuring confidentiality.)

I did raise the question for discussion in the next class. (X stayed silent and I didn't put any question to her.) There did seem to be some vague discontent among the students, but little that made any sense. I sent this followup to the class after the discussion:


Sent: Friday, October 25, 2002 11:44 AM
Subject: Hate my class?

Dear Students,

Our discussion about how you'd like the class modified was rather inconclusive. I'm interested in genuine proposals on how to improve the class, but none of your suggestions in our Oct. 23 discussion seemed to make much sense (except that I should talk more slowly). I was actually wondering if you were just contriving criticisms for the sake of reducing a classmate's embarrassment. That would not be a very good idea -- you don't help people by shielding them from the truth.

You said I ask questions that cannot be answered based on the knowledge you have. It is strange that none of you could produce a single example. I ask many questions. If the criticism were well-founded, one would think you could think of at least one example.

In fact it seems to me my questions are instructive for you precisely because you SHOULD be able to answer them -- but often can't. What I do again and again in class is show you clearly how you could and should be improving your thinking. I demonstrate meanings from our readings that have eluded you -- even though you thought you understood the words. And I lay out logical connections that you failed to make.

Please don't tell me you never expected to be intellectually challenged in university.

Some of you also expressed discomfort with the fact that readings concern unfamiliar subject matter. But -- as they say in the computer industry -- "That's a feature, not a bug." Part of growing up into adulthood is to venture out from your warm homes and confront the wide world beyond.

Somebody also said I should present background before you read material. I find I am simply unable to agree. I have just carefully reviewed "Federal Agency Accuses City of Illegally Ignoring Harassment" [New York Times, October 1, 1999], the article we'd been discussing at the time of our discussion. There is practically NOTHING there you would be unable to understand because of missing background knowledge. There are a few references -- NOW [acronym for the National Organization of Women], "supposedly law-enforcement Mayor" -- that you might not appreciate, but that would hardly detract from a thorough understanding of all the main points. I suspect this idea is motivated by a desire to avoid the need to do homework. But if you don't do the homework, you're not learning to think independently. Remember that I won't be there for the rest of your lives helping you to cope with things.

If you have any other comments I'd be glad to discuss them, either via email or in class. Of course it should be clear I'm not the type to abuse my grading power by punishing critics. (And I take pains to explain my grading scheme; you should be able to verify the objectivity of the scores I give you.) Feel free to express yourself ... but please think it over first, and bear in mind that our objective here isn't comfort. The objective is mental growth.

Regards,

Uriel


Did you notice "abuse of grading power" -- one of the charges listed by Wang Yan in our meeting a few days later? They wouldn't have come up with this felicitous phrase on their own. My own message had been pilfered, my assertion reversed, to bolster the indictment.

And grading was objective.

A New Yorker cartoon shows a meeting table with 4 seats, each with a pad and pencil on the table before it. One seat is occupied by a toothy dragon, two others by bunnies. The fourth is empty. The caption has the dragon asking: "Any other objections?"

I was not a dragon. I used a mechanical formula for awarding points for various items, a scheme I'd explain to students, and marking was completely impersonal.

My readers may bristle a bit at my "I won't be there for the rest of your lives helping you to cope with things." Try to appreciate that I was reacting against a yearning to be passively entertained, something I've commonly encountered in students. It's probably an effect of TV. Just like their fresh-faced peers in England, they want the answers handed to them without a lot of fuss and bother, neatly packaged.

That second message to the class produced the following 3 responses (from students other than X). Note the timestamps as you read them -- and recall that Wang Yan originally summoned me for a meeting Friday, November 1, and that the students' complaint letters to the deans had presumably been submitted shortly before then.


Sent: Monday, October 28, 2002 4:18 PM
Subject: we don't hate your class

Hi, Uriel:

I saw your e-mail to our class. I just want to write to you. I don't know who told you that we hated your class, I think there must be some misunderstanding about that. None of us, at least as far as I know, have said that we hate your class. Maybe some of us feel nervous in your class, but we never hate it. I think it is very chanllenging for us, and we have to be always alert, and smart in your class, but I think that is OK, and we could learn a lot in your class.

The problem might be, sometimes our way of thinking is a little bit different, due to some culture differences, which I think is very natural. Sometimes I just couldn't figure out what indeed you are asking, but when you expained it, I think I knew the meaning, just did not know that would be the answer you were expecting. Maybe my English is not good enough to express myself freely, maybe I haven't got the way you are thinking. But I think I am getting used to it, and I am trying to get what you mean,and I am trying to develop my logic and knowledge as well.I hope I could do better next time. Maybe we just need some time to get used to your style. But I think it's not a big problem, you don't need to worry about that. We don't hate your class.I just hope that there will be no more tests, which as you mentioned,is impossible. Anyway, your class is chanllenging for us, but we don't hate it, because we can learn a lot from you, although there might be some culture differences between us.
Best,

...

--------------------------------------------------

Sent: Monday, October 28, 2002 4:45 PM
Subject: Re: Hate my class?

hello! Uriel,
To be truth , I like the materials you gave us ,I like the way of your analysis to these materials, and i like these topices ,because those make me learn more about other culture.
To me ,i think there is nothing wrong in our thinking,if those materials and questions are in chinese ,i will answer very well and quickly.but that are in English , i cannot use English very well like you.I admit that is the bigest problem to me .Maybe some students' English are pretty good in our class , but that is REALLY BIG problem ,I'm tring to improve my listening and oral English.
Sometimes I can't follow you ,not can't understand .when i'm thinking of how to ask you ,you have pass it because you said too fast to me .I have no chance to question ,so please say it slowly.
That only my idea.
thank you

best wish

--------------------------------------------------

Sent: Wednesday, October 30, 2002 7:35 PM
Subject: Re: Hate my class?

Dear Uriel Wittenberg
At first, I must announce that I don't hate your class, because I think I can learn a lot of interesting things in it. Your lesson is very good and your explain to the article is logical. I enjoy it very much.
But sometimes I think you speak so fast that I can't hear you clearly. You know, before your class, I always read your articles very carefully. I try my best to satisfy you. I hope my behavior in your class could let you believe me. But the result is very sad. I got a zero in the test for "the sexual harassment".I don't know why, I check my answer for the quistion. Certainly, I didn't mention all points you wanted. But I got some of the points at least. In fact, I need your suggestion and encouragement to have a progress.
good regards

yours
...


25. Discordant Data

Sent: Thursday, January 30, 2003 12:00 PM

The student satisfaction query I'd emailed to one of my Law classes had produced three responses, all generally laudatory.

They were sent from Monday, Oct. 28 to Wednesday, Oct. 30.

By Friday, Nov. 1 these three students and just about all their classmates had signed a denunciatory letter about me addressed to their dean.

Had X understated matters? "You may have the ability to make all the students agree with you in class, then everyone will say 'Oh, Uriel, you're right! You're great!' But how can you know they will not criticize you after class? How can you make sure that they will not mock you in a language that you will never understand while they praise you in English?"

Recall the advice imparted by the Monday diplomat who felt I shouldn't insist on real teaching: it's sometimes smart to act stupid even when you're not.

Was there some kind of subtlety operating among all these young undergraduates?

Otherwise put, was it bald hypocrisy when students volunteered such written comments as: "I like the way of your analysis to these materials, and i like these topices ,because those make me learn more about other culture.... Your lesson is very good and your explain to the article is logical. I enjoy it very much"?

Maybe some out-of-the-box thinking is called for. Although the people around me seemed ordinary enough, had their brains perhaps been overtaken by evil aliens? These things do happen (though til now only in what has been regarded as science fiction -- don't miss John Carpenter's 1988 movie, "They Live").

Or does the key to the puzzle lie in the fact that this was a school of diplomacy?

As you ponder the enigma, another difficulty may peep out at you from previously covered terrain. It was Nov. 1 that I hosted my dinner for volunteers -- students drawn from each of my classes. Yet complaint letters signed by virtually all students in 4 of the classes were presumably already signed by then.

No one volunteered news of the letters in the course of the evening, and their existence remained unknown to me until my meeting with Wang Yan four days later.

*   *   *

I regularly heard this rationalization for students' inability to answer some questions in class: "if those materials and questions are in chinese ,i will answer very well and quickly." It simply wasn't true. I gave students time to read the material. I patiently answered any questions. Typically they understood all the necessary literal meaning. And even if they spoke haltingly, I waited and gave students the time needed to put their thoughts into words and convey whatever ideas they wanted. I have no doubt they were fully able to express any idea they wished to express in my classes.

I answered as follows to the student quoted above who'd raised this point:


Sent: Wednesday, October 30, 2002 11:35 AM
Subject: Re: Hate my class?

I cannot quite agree with: "if those materials and questions are in chinese ,i will answer very well and quickly." I think often the question is perfectly understood, but the students can't think of the answer. So I hope the class is developing your thinking skills as well as your English.

But I don't mean to imply the students have a "problem." You and your classmates, and the students in my other law class, are particularly bright people. I have said this consistently, to the administration as well. It's a pleasure teaching you because you also have mental energy (unlike, for example, certain double-degree Foreign Affairs students I teach).

Like I said in class, I encourage you to participate, weak English or no. And if I'm too fast, raise your hand and ask me to repeat.

Best wishes,


*   *   *

It was a student named Christine who'd written: "I got a zero in the test for 'the sexual harassment'.I don't know why .... I need your suggestion and encouragement to have a progress."

I sent her a nice response which included the offer: "If you'd care to make an appointment I'd be happy to discuss any questions you have and offer my encouragement."

No acknowledgement came from Christine.

I mentioned this (among other things) in the next class, Nov. 6. Christine said she hadn't received my email. This was almost certainly a lie, so just from sheer perversity, I re-sent my earlier email and added the class volunteers to the recipient list, asking them to make sure she got the message.

This produced the reply:


From: "christine"
To: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Sunday, November 10, 2002 10:47 AM
Subject: Re: Fw: (by superdanedane)Re: Hate my class?

Dear Uriel:
Thank you for your letter. But you know, I have a lot of lessons everyday and I have a part time job. So I am very busy. I will try to find some time to discuss with you.
Regards
Christine


Maybe fortune would smile on me.

26. Free-For-All

Sent: Friday, January 31, 2003 9:06 AM

As you may have suspected, Otto's qualms at the conclusion of our Nov. 5 meeting were thoroughly warranted. My four Law and Diplomacy classes were never normal again.

But the dementia that dominated all subsequent sessions of the 4 complainant classes actually had its start before the meeting, in the Tuesday Diplomacy class that preceded it by a few hours.

The catalyst seems to have been Sarah -- Sarah and her tears. Sarah was a Tuesday diplomat who'd sent me this a month earlier:


To: Uriel
Sent: Tuesday, October 08, 2002 10:01 PM
Subject: You are quite an interesting teacher!

Hi,Uriel,you are quite an interesting teacher,although you are very strict with us.In class,you make us answer the questions with such a high accuracy.Sometimes I think I'm not having a discussion class but a calculating course.Anyway,I will try to be a more logical student at the end of this semester.Moreover,if you always have a bad luck in bet like today,I really want to have a try next time :)
I think you are a responsible teacher.If there is anything I can help,just let me know.My cell phone is [...].
Wish you a good night.
Sarah


In the West this would probably strike one as suggestive, but Sarah intended nothing indelicate and of course, after two years of teaching in China, I understood that.

Sarah's reference to a bet relates to a bet I made with a student that the number of countries in the world was less than 160. (On two or three occasions I made a 10-yuan ($1.20) bet with a student -- it was a fun way to perk up a class, though at the cost of shocking at least one Monday diplomat.)

Sarah and I went out together (in the non-dating sense) two, I think, or maybe three times. On one occasion we went with a couple of her classmates to "English corner" at Tsinghua.

Another time, on a shopping trip, we were talking about the atrocious American movies that Chinese students see. For some reason there is a relatively short list of American movies, mostly of totally unexceptional quality, that virtually everyone here has seen. One is Titanic, another an execrably boring piece of nonsense from eons ago called Roman Holiday. It occurred to me that it'd be a thrill to organize a screening of Fatal Attraction, the riveting drama of marital infidelity and psychotic obsession that shook America on its release in 1987.

Sarah said she had an uncle with a large movie collection and that there was a good chance she could get it from him.

She didn't follow up on this in the days that followed, so sometime later I raised it again, and she asked for details of release date, etc. I provided the information via email. She replied: "I try to find that movie as soon as possible." Then five days after that -- and this was now Oct. 28 -- she wrote:


Sent: Monday, October 28, 2002 1:50 PM
Subject: Failure to find the movie

Dear Uriel:
I'm sorry to tell you that I could not find the movie "The Fatal Attraction."My relative was mixed up by another similar movie.I'm afraid that I might cause the delay to your plan of "Movie Night."Is there anything I can do as a compensation?Anyway,I have to make my sinceer apology to you.
Wish you a good day.


I was irked. Readers, do not interpret that to mean that I flew into a towering rage. I repeat, I was irked. Mildly irked.

Here was this "sinceer" student who purportedly considered me a tremendous teacher. She'd offered to help me do a good thing for the students, a gratuitous initiative on my part. Now after about two weeks she was declaring failure, apparently after no more arduous effort than ringing her uncle up on the phone.

Why were these Diplomacy students always failing at everything?

Maybe I did make some remark about winning the next war. These students were so appallingly ineffectual.

I felt -- so shoot me -- that my highly appreciative student might have gone above and beyond calling an uncle -- maybe phoned a few video suppliers or checked out Beijing's vibrant pirate video market or hooked into whatever channel students hook into to get movies. She could certainly do it more easily than I could.

We had class the next morning, Oct. 29. During the mid-class break, a student asked when we might be having our movie screening. I'd mentioned some time before that I might be presenting an exciting movie at some point.

I said it wouldn't be happening because she (pointing at Sarah) couldn't produce the movie. I mimicked her calling her uncle, learning he couldn't provide the movie, then piteously exclaiming with a theatrical gesture of helplessness: "Sorry! It's impossible! Please forgive me."

These are such correct times, many will see my little burlesque as insensitive, cruel, bestial. In any case, the unanticipated effect was that Sarah broke into tears and departed.

Now, these are 6'th year students who'll be graduating as Foreign Affairs majors this year. My opinion is that they should be made of firmer stuff than this, and I would make so bold as to guess that the Chinese Vice-Premier would probably expect a little more mettle from them as well.

Think of the Glenn Close character in Fatal Attraction. There's a woman with mettle.

Class proceeded normally after the break. I'd planned a test, which I administered. A friend of Sarah's wanted me to postpone but I was hardly about to let breakdowns like this set the agenda. Sarah's mark in the course would not be significantly affected, I told them.

Recall that Rebecca had indicated something vague to me about negative evaluations of my teaching. That was October 31. That had made me reflect on the possibility that FAC would try to cheat me out of my bonus with some kind of bogus evaluations -- and I'd thought, why not do my own evaluations?

I prepared a form with a single question: "Uriel's teaching is at least as good as that of ___% (0 for worst -- 100 for best) of my other teachers at FAC." (The form explained this and listed factors to be considered.) The comparison between myself and other teachers directly corresponded to my contract's bonus provision.

The first class I had after Rebecca's warning was the Tuesday diplomats, Nov. 5, one week after Sarah's tears. (Another teacher taught my Monday diplomats Nov. 4 as a result of a one-time trade of class sesssions.) I had them do the evaluations first thing (anonymity was assured), then proceeded with the class.

I'd asked them, the previous week, to think about one of the questions from the test for discussion that week: "Can lying to the public be considered good government? What point of view could justify it?" Lying was a slight extrapolation of New York Governor George Pataki's routine way of dealing with the press, as described in an article we'd discussed:


Few politicians go far without knowing how to sidestep a tough question, put off a painful decision with a blue-ribbon panel or avoid taking a strong position until the winds of popular opinion blow one way or another.

But even among accomplished political practitioners, Gov. George E. Pataki stands out. Behind his country-boy charm, he is a disciplined campaigner who has perfected the art of saying as little as possible.

That tendency has been more pronounced than ever as the race for governor enters its final stretch. Asked how he planned to close a budget deficit that could rise above $5 billion next year, the governor said recently, "We are going to look, as we did in 1995, to continue to make the government operate in a more efficient and more effective way as we go forward."

Asked if he had made a deal with union leaders to obtain the endorsement of New York City teachers in return for $200 million from the state to finance their new contract, the governor responded: "I'm very proud of what we've accomplished with respect to education, not just for the city but across the state of New York, and this year public schools will get $4.9 billion more than they did when I took office."

Mr. Pataki often responds these days to pointed questions by saying he is proud of his record, then ignores the question itself.

When asked recently to explain his administration's decision to move psychiatric patients from hospitals to locked floors at nursing homes, he replied: "I'm proud that this administration has done more to help those with mental illness than any administration in the history of this state, and we have worked very hard to put in resources to help those who can live in a community setting."

During last Sunday's debate, the governor was asked why he had not been able to live up to his promises to revamp the state's mandatory drug sentences, pass a gay rights bill and tighten campaign finance laws. "Let me say that I'm proud of the leadership I've shown over the course of the past seven and a half years," he answered, "and this state has achieved more reforms and greater change under my leadership than, I believe, in decades prior."

Mr. Pataki has also proven adept at another political strategy, taking full credit for programs he had initially opposed. At most campaign stops, the governor boasts of having passed "record increases" in education aid, and of having devoted more of that aid to New York City and other poor districts. It rankles Democrats who control the Assembly that Mr. Pataki rarely notes that he has also labored to keep education increases down.

Last week at the announcement of the United Federation of Teachers' endorsement of the governor, a reporter tried to follow up after the governor had ignored her question on who made the decision to place mentally ill patients in nursing homes and whether he had been lobbied by a campaign contributor to do so.

"We are looking for ways where the mentally ill who need structured residences can have those structured residences, and we're going to continue to look to see how we can accomplish that," the governor said.

The reporter pressed: "But how was that decision made to release them to nursing homes?"

"That was made by the health professionals," the governor said.

Mr. McKeon, the spokesman, jumped in. "O.K. Thank you."

"Thank you," the governor said, waving and turning to leave.

"Did you know about it yourself?" the reporter asked.

"Thank you," Mr. Pataki said.

"Did you know yourself?" the reporter asked again.

"Thank you," the governor repeated.

"When did you learn about them?" another reporter asked.

"It was made by the health professionals," the governor said.

"When did you learn, though?" the second reporter asked.

"Do you still have confidence in those health professionals?" a third reporter asked.

At the doorway, the governor turned, hesitated, nodded and left the room.

[Excerpts from "In an Election Year, Pataki Ducks and Dodges With the Best of Them," New York Times, October 17, 2002.]


But the students were mopish, moody. Nobody could even say what question I'd asked them to prepare. And nobody could propose an answer when reminded of the question.

OK then -- I switched to the new assignment for that week. I'd asked them to read the first two pages of Jane Austen's 1818 novel, Persuasion, CLOSELY.

I asked various questions about the first paragraph. No one had a clue what it meant. The class was silent.

I put away my copies of the reading materials and described for them this fantastic idea that some students have -- that they're punishing a teacher by being silent.

They were the losers, I told them, not me, if they didn't learn.

"Me, I'm simply bored," I added. "But our 90 minutes will soon be done and then I can just go out and keep enjoying my life in China."

The class received this and related remarks in sullen silence. Then finally, about half hour before the end of class, Sarah piped up to protest against my teaching method. Her voice broke and her tears returned. Then the class suddenly became very animated. Everyone supported Sarah. Lily was particularly ferocious as she hurled various accusatory questions at me in a voice that could saw timber.

Three weeks earlier she'd emailed me: "I like to argue with you in class,because every time I can learn a lot.It's my luck to have a unique teacher as Uriel^.^",

She'd never sounded like this. I bellowed at her: "Lily, stop screaming!"

She retorted that that was her "natural speaking voice."

Justin, a boy who'd always looked inoffensive to a fault, had suddenly become very brave. He asked whether I would apologize to Sarah.

No, that wasn't going to happen.

At some point Sarah asserted that she'd spent four hours looking for the movie for me.

Students kept interrupting as I tried to answer questions. Cindy (or Cissy?), after obviously not paying the least attention to an answer I'd just given to her own question, sprang back with a heated retort.

Justin interrupted me about 3 seconds after I'd begun answering one of his questions. I overrode him: "You don't even want an answer to your own question!"

Absurdly, he declared that my answer was too long.

No one was listening!

It was like a miniature ... I'm not even sure it's safe in these writings to refer as I might otherwise to certain episodes of Chinese history.

I told the class I had no trouble picturing them celebrating September 11 and throwing rocks at the U.S. Embassy.

The joke, I told them, was that "you are Diplomacy students!"

The participation level was particularly high that day.

A student stayed behind after class at my request to help tabulate the results of the evaluation. He was friendly, and slightly sheepish and embarrassed.

In case anyone must know, the results were:

50, 0, 0, 0, 70, 0, 0, 10, 0, 0, 50, 30, 0, 60

27. Girls, Boys, an Ignorant Doctor

Sent: Saturday, February 01, 2003 8:09 AM

Shortly after the Nov. 5 class, I emailed Sarah a polite offer to meet and talk. She never acknowledged.

Then late that night I received the following from her (delayed because of technical problems at aer.net.cn):


From: Sarah
To: Uriel
Sent: Friday, November 01, 2002 9:21 AM
Subject: Two Ways to Get That Movie

Beijing Foreign Studies University's library has the movie "Fatal Attraction".The number of this VCD is 1477.
There is website http://www.yc114.net/yszl/wgys81.htm where you can get this movie by mail. The number of this DVD is 0807.


By this time, organizing a movie night wasn't high on my agenda. But perhaps one more student had learnt the useful lesson that failure is not inevitable, even after a setback.

*   *   *

Nov. 6. My Wednesday morning Law class.

It was my first post-revelation class; the day prior, I'd had complaint letters stuck in my face by one fine lady.

Technically, the courses I taught were called "Topical English." My professional judgment, as classroom dictator, was that one topic alone was topical at this point.

"Wang Yan told me about your complaint letters," I told the class. "Can somebody explain what all these complaints are that have been circulating behind my back?"

"Why do you always invite girls and never boys?" I was challenged.

"That's not true. I've invited and gone out with boys too," I answered. (Rarely, but it had happened.)

"Why did you call Susie to take you to the hospital? [Susie was in this class.] Why not Dwilin? Didn't he offer to guide you anywhere in Beijing?"

I glanced at Dwilin, an expressionless presence I hadn't noticed much all semester. It was true, though I'd never have thought of it, that he'd emailed me such an offer early in the semester.

"What's wrong with calling Susie?" I asked.

"It's not proper."

Not proper??

"You should not have taken a girl with you to the hospital."

Readers may recall my slight problem with a chest rash. It was Susie and her classmate Angel who'd taken me, three weeks before, to a hospital for examination by a doctor.

The doctor, a Chinese man of about 55, had spoken to them and to me. He understood they were my students. Then he asked me what the problem was, I told him, and he told me to remove my shirt so he could have a look.

The girls had stood by the window, discreetly looking outside.

Afterwards the girls and I had filled the prescription at the hospital pharmacy, briefly stopped nearby for a bit of shopping, then returned by taxi to school, where I'd thanked them and said goodbye.

But the girls, don't you see, had been tainted. The flaming vision of my unclothed chest would be forever branded upon their souls.

"Excuse me," I told the class, "is there some misunderstanding here? It was my shirt I took off, not my pants."

"You don't understand Chinese culture!" they protested. "That's improper behavior."

This appeared to be the sentiment of the entire class.

A student's hand was aloft, about 10 minutes into the class -- the X who'd written me about student discontent a couple weeks earlier. I called on her to speak. I wasn't sure I heard her right the first time, I had to ask her to repeat:

"May I be excused?" she said. "I'm afraid I am suffering a heart attack."

Mystified, I excused her.

After she left, we returned to the immediate topic of shirtlessness.

"That's not Chinese culture," I told them. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Yes, that is a violation of Chinese culture. You should try to understand Chinese culture!"

I couldn't accept that they could be defending something so preposterous.

"What about at the beach?" I asked in exasperation. "Do men wear tops there?"

"That's different!" they hooted.

"OK, tell me this!" I said. My next point would be a knock-out blow. "The doctor at the hospital. He was Chinese -- right? Tell me this: why didn't he understand Chinese culture?"

*   *   *

Ahhh, the exquisitely foolish students.

Oft did I recount these amazing occurrences to crowds of laughing students at English corners, at People's University and elsewhere.... Once my teaching duties were a thing of the past, there was more time for English corners.

It's worth noting that none of my Chinese auditors ever seemed to have doubts about the veracity of this wild story. Many remarks were volunteered as to the foolishness of the students and the crookedness of the FAC administration. It seems for the Chinese, there is nothing implausible about these events. "This is China," goes the expression.

On one occasion at People's U., one of my (at that point former) Law students emerged from the crowd and greeted me as I was telling the remarkable tale. The people around me had been puzzling over what the FAC students could have been thinking, and I told them: "Ask him -- he was there, he witnessed it!"

Later the student emailed me:


To: <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Saturday, November 30, 2002 12:34 AM

Dear Urielw:
[...]
I am glad to meet you in that English corner.But I hate that you told the story to the people around you and said I am a witness.Some people came to me,asked what really happened and why.I don't want to tell them the story,I don't want to dish the dirt.Some of them said we may have taken it too seriously,I replied:"You are just a listener,if you have experienced it yourself,you may change your idea."
[...]
Cheers


The influence of Frank Sinatra song lyrics can be discerned in my students -- in this case, "The Lady is a Tramp":


She gets too hungry for dinner at eight
She likes the theater and never comes late
She never bothers with people she'd hate
That's why the lady is a tramp

Doesn't like crap games with barons or earls
Won't go to Harlem in ermine and pearls
Won't dish the dirt with the rest of the girls
That's why the lady is a tramp

She likes the free, fresh wind in her hair
Life without care
She's broke, and it's oke
Hates California, it's cold and it's damp
That's why the lady is a tramp

She gets too hungry to wait for dinner at eight
She loves the theater but never comes late
She'd never bother with people she'd hate
That's why the lady is a tramp

She'll have no crap games with sharpies and frauds
And she won't go to Harlem in Lincolns or Fords
And she won't dish the dirt with the rest of the broads
That's why the lady is a tramp

She loves the free, fresh wind in her hair
Life without care
She's broke, but it's oke
Hates California, it's so cold and so damp
That's why the lady ...
That's why the lady ...
That's why the lady is a tramp


28. Equal Friendships

Sent: Saturday, February 01, 2003 7:31 PM

Why did the Chinese doctor not understand Chinese culture?

This seemingly devastating question turned out not to be a knock-out blow.

"Improper ... improper ...."

The stupid word continued to reverberate about the classroom.

"Look," I asked the students, "has any harassment been alleged?"

I had taught them about sexual harassment, for goodness sake.

"No no no -- not harassment. But improper invitations. Why did you invite a student to Beihai Park late at night?"

Beihai Park. That rang a bell. I searched my memory and finally remembered: Renee.

"Who did I invite to Beihai Park?" I asked.

They didn't want to tell me.

"Renee??" I asked, amazed that this too had been dredged up in their frenzied conferences.

Yes, their faces told me.

I'd gone out with Renee once, two months earlier, just after the start of the semester. I'd taken her to dinner. She was a slightly vain girl, proud of her non-conformity and rebelliousness against the prevailing orthodoxy of FAC. But it was a bit much that she'd suggested improprieties on my part. My behavior had been completely correct, while she had made risque allusions.

"When I took her to dinner two months ago," I told the class, "it was Renee who raised the subject of ... yes, S-E-X, by telling funny stories even as we were biking to the restaurant."

In our conversation during the 15-minute bike ride to the restaurant, Renee had, out of the blue, pointed to a car license plate and informed me that Beijing didn't permit vanity plates any more ... because of a certain 3-letter word starting with S which, smiling, she asked me to guess.

I'd failed to reflect just then on whatever her remark might signify. This new information about Beijing rules only made me puzzle over the prosaic question: "Why didn't they just disallow the word 'SEX' instead of banning vanity plates altogether?"

She didn't know why, she answered sourly. And that had appeared to set the tone for the evening.

As I recounted Renee's remark, one student, seeking to be contrary, asserted: "That's not a funny story."

A girl called Monica announced: "We like your teaching -- not your personality."

"So you're using me," I told her.

"Teaching us is your duty," she replied.

I told her I was here to help students.

She laughed contemptuously.

"Why do you always invite girls?" she asked. "How do you choose your friends?"

"I don't know -- how do you choose yours?" I asked.

She said she was friendly with everyone.

"You're equally friendly with Y and Z?" I pressed, indicating a friend beside her and someone across the room she never spoke with.

Yes, she said. She was equally friendly with everyone she knew at FAC.

I pressed further, but she was adamant, insisting that she wasn't closer to some friends than to others.

It seemed 33 of the 35 Law students (in this and my other Law class) had signed the complaint letter. Could I have a copy? I asked them.

They didn't have a copy, they told me, indifferently.

29. A Chinese Phenomenon

Sent: Sunday, February 02, 2003 10:24 AM

The students had a slew of other ill-defined complaints beyond my supposed abuse of Sarah and my "improper invitations," as will be seen in my account of subsequent classes. Some of the feelings were undoubtedly voiced in the two classes already described, but unfortunately my notes made at the time are incomplete. The students did however harbor a variety of deep feelings having to do with a sense that I didn't respect them, didn't respect "Chinese culture," didn't give high enough scores on tests, and didn't tolerate dissent.

Let's return to the question: how could I have been riding this tide of ill feeling, through weeks of teaching, without being aware of it?

Lily exclaimed in a tone of searing passion, in the Nov. 5 Diplomacy class, that my attitude was "unbearable." ("Well, you're bearing it," I'd promptly rejoined.) Was I misguided in regarding her and her classmates, til then, as appreciative students?

How about that Law class whose students, as late as October 30, were voluntarily emailing such sentiments as: "I can learn a lot of interesting things in [your class]. Your lesson is very good and I enjoy it very much."

Fiendish deceit?

Of course not.

It's an apt irony. The student hysteria, which so frequently recurred to my failure to appreciate "Chinese culture," itself provided a vivid illustration of a negative aspect of Chinese culture I'd never realized or seen before.

I hope this won't produce knee-jerk charges of bigotry. Cultures do transmit traits to individuals -- traits that can be either positive or negative. Fortunately, individuals can and do surpass the limitations, habits and prejudices of their own culture, and awakening the mind to question things is in principle a primary function of education. But it's easy to be unimpressed with its success rate, both East and West.

The weird thing that happened at FAC -- a phenomenon I don't think would occur with Western students -- is that until some kind of frenzied campaign that suddenly erupted around October 31, a large majority of students were quite pleased with me. Then, like a school of fish, they abruptly turned. Together.

This only happened to the Law and Diplomacy students. My other three classes, where students were untouched by the campaign, remained as appreciative as before. When Wang Yan asked me to comment on my students, it was hardly an exaggeration when I said of my Continuing Education day students that they'd crown me king if they could.

It was slightly surreal, during those final weeks at FAC. While open warfare raged in my Law and Diplomacy classes, in Continuing Ed I was surrounded by scarcely restrained adulation. If I may quote one of their messages:


Sent: Tuesday, November 19, 2002 2:40 PM
Subject: you are a hero!

uriel:i am sorry to know that you are fire,i hope everything will be all right soon,that is not your fault,you really do a good job,TH10 class [Continuing Ed/Day] will support you forever,but now we will lose a good teacher.when we talked about it today,we felt so sad.most of them said that they learned a lot in your class,and found it very interesting.to be honestly,we like the way you teach us,it is different from other foreign teachers',it is outstanding.you are fire is the loss of the school,and i belive that you will have a bright future, maybe your feeling is not good at the moment,i think you can get over it.you are our hero!

best wishes,


As always, I could get only limited insight into the process by which the Law and Diplomacy students were so abruptly reprogrammed.

On Nov. 8, when I had to go for a followup visit to the hospital, I finally took Dwilin up on his longstanding offer to take me somewhere. (Susie and Angel had not made themselves available for this second trip.) On the way there I questioned him.

Dwilin's communication, or his thinking, was murky. But he did indicate that there had been substantial social pressure to sign the complaints -- if a student had refused to sign, other students would "hate" him. Boys were obliged to sign, moreover, to "show support for the girls."

He didn't know the details of any of the complaints, though he himself had signed. When I asked specifically about the Beihai Park story (involving his fellow Law student), he said he really didn't know anything about it.

He also said there had been no pressure from the administration or from teachers to sign the letters. (Apparently there were multiple letters signed by the Law students; I never figured out how many.)

Eleven days later (Nov. 19) I gave him a call. He told me: "I really appreciate your attitude in dealing with the complaints." He also said, this time, that the pressure to sign had in fact not been so severe and that students had had a choice. He told me of one classmate, Patrick, who had not signed. (This was the first I heard of anyone choosing not to sign. As far as I know, Patrick was the only one.)

I then spoke to Patrick, who thought that perhaps Dwilin also hadn't signed, contrary to my assumption. So I emailed Dwilin a few days later:


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Saturday, November 23, 2002 9:42 AM
Subject: clarity

Did you or didn't you sign the letter?

Was there or wasn't there pressure to sign?

If you signed without pressure, then why did you?


He answered these questions in turn:


To: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Monday, November 25, 2002 4:33 PM
Subject: Re: clarity

Did you or didn't you sign the letter?

I did it
Was there or wasn't there pressure to sign?

No

If you signed without pressure, then why did you?

I do think your way of dealing with the girls does borther the girls. But I did some reservations about the letter before they sent the it to the school authority. Whether they brought my opinions into the letter is unknown to me.


Somehow this student seemed not fully sentient. The response this brought from me was the following:


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Monday, November 25, 2002 10:25 PM
Subject: Re: clarity

I thought you told me on the way to the hospital that boys had to sign to show support for girls. Isn't that pressure?

It seems very strange -- you seem to hardly know what you're doing, as if you're walking through your life asleep. From your message it seems you don't even know what the letter you signed says. To me that seems ridiculous.

And why do you still think I did anything improper after my open letter? It seems you children have been so pampered by your parents all your lives you're unable to bear the pain of facing the truth when you've been wrong.

And why are you sending me these "thanks" and "good luck" messages after helping get me fired? Wake up and at least figure out what side you're on.

U


He never replied.

My message will seem intemperate to some. Readers, this is nothing. Perhaps you assumed my "deeper, darker" prologue was idle puffery. We are going to sink considerably further before we hit the bottom of this yarn.

I'd of course prefer it if this ride doesn't make you sick, but I intend for you to get your full money's worth -- I am totally committed to that.

30. Halloween Howl

Sent: Monday, February 03, 2003 9:33 PM

The Law and Diplomacy students' querulous mind meltdown of last Halloween was a private, by-invitation-only affair. Even the few students who remained in touch would offer scant insight into that orgy of outrage.

It was as if a directive had been implanted: they were not to broach the events of The Night Their Brains Were Hijacked with the Western guy. Or maybe the aliens had taken care to wipe memories clean before returning to the Ship. Or, my best guess: though the orgy had been a tremendous catharsis, its memory was an embarrassment that they had no wish to dwell upon.

Nonetheless, we may catch a few indirect glimpses of the proceedings behind the curtain via some exchanges with a couple of other students. The impassive Dwilin certainly offered quite grudging fare for those of us with an appetite for such spectacles. Perhaps we can glean a little more from the scraps offered by two additional witnesses.

X, an ostensibly supportive Diplomacy student, came to me Nov. 9 and apologized for having signed the complaint letters. He told me he'd had no choice -- everyone would have hated him if he hadn't signed.

This struck me as facile -- probably a broad exaggeration, not to say a self-serving lie.

X also claimed (plausibly) that a fellow Diplomacy student, Ben, had been campaigning to have me fired. But Ben was also one of the participants at my Nov. 1 volunteer dinner. X said the students admired such cunning and that that was how people succeeded in politics. I responded that in the West it'd be regarded as villainy. I mentioned the Iago character in Shakespeare's Othello. X understood and laughed.

We grant space in these pages to the shifty X only because of our paucity of witnesses. I advise readers to accord him little credence, in part because he was disgruntled over having been passed over by the Chinese Foreign Ministry, which had just made post-graduation job offers to four of his fellow Diplomacy students, including Ben.

My comment about winning the next war also came up in this discussion. X maintained that it had been a very objectionable comment on my part. He recollected that I'd made it during a class discussion in which a student displayed an uncertain grasp of a mathematical point that had arisen. I allegedly reflected that American diplomacy students knew math better and that "we'd" likely win the next war as a result. No, it wasn't clear to him that this would have been a joke.

*   *   *

A Law student, for his part, offers these hints on the Halloween phantasmagoria via email:


Sent: Monday, November 18, 2002

Dear urielw:
When I heard the arguement between you and my girl classmates,I was puzzled.I can not tell who's right and I don't care now.But you should believe that I won't say "yes" to those things I don't believe,and I can't say "I object" without any proof.
Did you got the letter that you have claimed?I think you should read that.I hope you can get one but I don't have a copy.Some of my classmates are quite emotional this time,but what I hope is we could settle this ASAP. Cheers

--------------------------------------------------

Sent: Tuesday, November 19, 2002

[The writer protests that he could not influence his classmates not to sign the letters. I haven't suggested he should have, but he doesn't seem to realize that.] But what else was I supposed to do?(If you could read Chinese,you may understand.)Tell them to stop doing that because is not fair to traet a foreign teacher like this?Will they listen to me?I think I know my classmates better than you.
Yes, the problem is settled now.I have a hard feeling about that.
Cheers

--------------------------------------------------

Sent: Saturday, November 30, 2002

Dear Urielw:
I didin't reply to you these days because I was doing investigation among my classmates about the story.But most of them don't like to talk about that any more.What I heard about is you invited Renee to dinner because you want to find a place to have dinner with those volunteers. After that,you asked her if she would mind taking a walk near BeiHai park.She said she would.And you talked about "sex" by talking about a film and number plate of cars.I am puzzled that it seems has nothing wrong but girls complained about your rude behaveir and they said to the boys "We need your help". I dare not ask Renee ,and she wouldn't tell me.I think if Renee made her story,she may made it with some other girls like Elaine.(That's just my guess.) [...]
Again,you said "Are you all dead"to us because no one replied to you E-mail.No one would,Urielw,no one would.To them,it's all over.We have already have a new teacher.They would forget it soon. I know it's not over to you,though.
Cheers

--------------------------------------------------

Sent: Wednesday, December 04, 2002

Dear Urielw:
Those things happened in the last two months were too complicated.I think all the students should think it over from A to Z.I will do it.I hope we can keep in touch.Good luck!


31. Kafka, Iago, Mind Control, Immorality, Tramphood, Relativism, Mixed Horses, CIA

Sent: Tuesday, February 04, 2003 12:21 PM

Nov. 7. My Thursday morning Law class.

Discussion Topic: The Students' Complaint Letters (again).

Renee was absent, of course. One wouldn't want to risk being held accountable for rumors one has spread.

I wrote on the board:


Why am I angry?

Is someone manipulating me?


Another high-participation discussion ensued.

The mantra was being intoned again: why why why, a girl wanted to know, did I invite girls and not boys?

What gave a silly young girl like her the right to question me about my personal choices? I asked her. "You're forgetting the respect due your teachers."

Was there, for goodness sake, any specific wrongdoing being charged here, I demanded.

No.

Was there any allegation of any kind of harassment?

No.

I told them about Franz Kafka's The Trial -- a man endlessly searching to learn what charge has been filed against him in a nightmare bureaucracy.

Had someone perhaps alleged that I persisted with unwelcome invitations?

It was as if I had to formulate an indictment myself.

A student was sitting quietly at the back of the room -- a pretty girl called Elaine. I'd gone out with her a couple of times. In late September we'd gone for a long bike ride together, walked around a park, then had lunch together -- a most pleasant time. A couple of weeks later we'd gone shopping. A couple of weeks after that, when I had to go to the hospital, I called her first to request help, and she put me off with an obviously empty excuse.

She'd been very friendly. Then, between the shopping and the hospital, she'd turned. What happened?

Renee. They were good friends.

It was irritating; it was stupid; but if a friend abandoned me because of false allegations without asking to hear my side (or maybe because of misguided loyalty to some other friend), I would live with one friend less.

But one could still give failed friends a poke, couldn't one?

Following up on the theme of persisting with unwelcome invitations, I asked: "Elaine -- did I keep bugging you after you said you wouldn't take me to the hospital?"

Elaine, shaken from her thoughts, was visibly startled. Trembling, she loudly declared: "I thought, at the beginning of the term, that you were a good teacher and a good person. But then I found out ... I found out you are IMMORAL!"

Readers, this is not a joke.

It was astonishing. What on earth was going on in this girl's mind?

Is it not absurd that even now I have no clue what she believed?

Or is it even more absurd that I'm still trying to find out?

A friend of hers just emailed me a "happy Chinese new year" message on February 1. I replied: "There's one puzzle I'd like you to help me solve: why did your friend [Elaine's Chinese name] declare in class that I was 'immoral'? She never explained."

I still have no answer.

When Elaine made her pronouncement, I stood there in wonderment before the class.

"Immoral," I repeated. "Uhhhhh .... Why?"

Elaine was silent.

"Let me give you some advice," I told the students. "And if you follow this you'll be smarter than most people and smarter than your administration at FAC. When you hear somebody make allegations about somebody else, get the other side of the story before making a judgment."

After this sermon, one girl cut me short with the question: "Do you think you're a tramp?" (We'd done the song in class a short time earlier.)

I had to weigh that one.

"Well ... hmmm .... I guess I am at that .... Yeah, yeah, I guess I am a tramp."

The student had no other questions.

My abuse of grading power came up. A boy said the average grade I'd given students the year before at Tsinghua was 60%.

Where did these ludicrous ideas originate? Was this even plausible? Sixty was the passing grade. I'd scaled grades at Tsinghua so the class averages were exactly 85%. (I wanted my classes to have the normal average. I'd asked the admin and that's what they'd told me it was.)

I told the boy, "maybe someone is tricking you because they want you to be angry with me. Check my website, my Tsinghua grades are still there."

The students were also terribly peeved about sometimes being told that answers they gave to questions in class discussions were wrong.

"There's no unique right answer!" they said. "You say an answer is wrong just because it's different from your idea. There's never only one right answer!"

How had this contemporary relativist nonsense from the West infected my Chinese students?

I told them: give me one example of something I improperly said was wrong.

One student claimed to have an example from an article we'd done about the ominous, unknown effects on the human psyche of non-stop exposure to advertising:


What does advertising do to human beings over the long run? We don't know.

All we know is that year by year, as the commercial messages come faster and more obliquely, the modern media consumer is growing hard to impress. She's no longer the alert student sitting quietly front-and-centre. She's slumped, snoozing, in the back, or else trying to climb out a window. The old-school of admaking -- establishing the product's "unique selling position" and carefully building brand loyalty -- is dead. Traditional agencies like Leo Burnett and J. Walter Thompson are hemorrhaging business to smaller, balls-out agencies like Fallon McElligott and Wieden & Kennedy, who understand that you can't play chess with an attention-deficit-disordered kid: he'll walk away from the board. It's got to be strip chess now, or chess for money. Or you've got to pelt the kid with the pieces.

All of which explains the rise, in recent years, of so-called "shock" advertising. For ads to work, the industry is conceding, they have to be rare and juicy and in your face. They have to offer back-of-the-cabinet images few of us have ever seen -- like a black horse humping a white one, or a supermodel taking a dump, or a woman aiming a jet of breast milk into another woman's cup of coffee.

Advertisers will tell you that shock boils down to truth. Drop a truth-teller into a dinner-party full of genteel liars and shock ensues. The current level of candor in tampon commercials would make Cathy "I think it's perfectly natural" Rigby blush, but mopping up a cafeteria spill with a Kotex is really just life as it's lived by real people, no?

Epater les bourgeois. Shock middle-class values. Art, it is said, has no interest in morality. Which may be where art and advertising -- at least shock advertising -- differ. Shock ads are all about morality. They usually involve sniffing out, simply for the sake of provocation, the ripest cultural taboo. In Germany, that probably means Nazi imagery; in Italy, the Catholic church; in North America, sex. What's left of this particular topic to explore? Incest? Pedophilia? Defecatiovoyeurism? (Those Jenny-McCarthy-on-the-throne print ads turned a few people on, a few people off, and purportedly boosted sales of Candies shoes by 19%). Shock advertisers tend to measure success by the controversy their campaigns generate. If you can't shock the middle class, shock William Bennett and Newt Gingrich. Piss off the powerful jackleg Republicans. Earn some salty reprobations on the Congressional record. Shock Jesse Helms. Conservatives are about the only people you can still get a rise out of these days. That's why shock advertisers love them. They need them.

The rest of us, not wanting to be mistaken for anyone liable to revoke arts grants or suppress free expression, adopt an open position of blanket permissiveness. Two horses fucking shocks you? Hey, you don't get out much, do you, friend? I'll bet you found A Clockwork Orange troubling, too.

And so we've learned not to be fazed by anything. Even as advertisers mine the most sacred parts of ourselves for distribution and resale, we sit passively by, pretending not to care and ultimately not caring. Baby, we are teflon-coated, like those skillets from France. The media can't touch us because we are cynics.

But could it be that we are cynics because the media has already touched us? Touched us there?

The almost banal truth is, it's very hard to shock us now. So advertisers are giving up trying to shock in the conventional way, and are working on a kind of silent electromagnetic pulse aimed to inflict grave, undefinable damage on any circuitry it hits.

I'm going to argue that there are now three levels of shock in advertising: visceral shock, intellectual shock and, for lack of a better term, "soul" shock. [...]

["Shock's Next Wave," by Bruce Grierson, Adbusters Magazine, Winter 1998.]


Advertising is the article's subject, but the author approaches his topic via an opening that centers on CIA-funded psychiatric experiments conducted decades ago in Montreal:


In the late 1950s and early 1960s, dozens of psychiatric patients at the Allan Memorial Institute in Montreal fell under the care of Dr. Ewen Cameron, a man with some radical ideas about how the human mind is wired, and how it might be therapeutically rewired by a skilled psychiatrist such as himself. Cameron believed the roots of mental illness lay in faulty thought patterns patients developed over time. He reckoned patients could be "depatterned" through the ceaseless repetition of a key word or phrase -- a technique he called "psychic driving." Confining the patients to "sleep rooms" in the Institute, Cameron "implanted" a carefully chosen "driving message" (usually a negative message, followed much later by an affirming message) into their heads via speakers or earphones. Each message -- for example, "You have no confidence in yourself. You are weak and inadequate" -- was broadcast continuously for 15 hours a day, seven days a week, for up to two months.

Not surprisingly, "psychic driving" quickly became a torturous ordeal for the subjects. Indeed, Cameron's depatterning work suggested the mind-control experiments being carried out in North Korea, where Communist soldiers were allegedly turning captured POWs into robotically programmed acolytes. (The CIA, eager to know more about brainwashing, and to develop countervailing techniques of its own, funded Cameron's work for three years under a project code-named MKULTRA). To "break down their resistance" to the incoming messages, Cameron tranquilized his subjects with electroshocks, LSD, hypnosis, or sleeping pills that kept them in unconscious suspension for up to 22 hours a day as the driving messages played on.

If you don't recall Ewen Cameron's famous brainwashing experiments, don't feel too bad -- neither do his patients. Upon their release, most had no memory of receiving treatment. In some cases, patients who had listened to hundreds of thousands of repetitions of their driving message could not repeat that message back even once. Rip Van Winkle-like, these people were simply missing a chunk of their lives.

But something profound had clearly happened to them. Immediately following the deprogramming trials, they appeared stunned and disorganized. Many could not remember their own names, or how to eat, or in fact much of anything that had gone on in their lives. Even today, Cameron's former patients report such symptoms as violent mood swings and the inability to concentrate enough to read.

The Allan Institute experiments ceased in the late 1960s. Nine patients would later launch million-dollar suits against the CIA, which settled out of court with them for a much smaller sum, in 1988.

In a broader sense, though, Ewen Cameron's work never really stopped. Under new stewards and another guise, the "electric lobotomies" continue apace. The subject pool has expanded from a few dozen people to a couple of billion. The driving messages have become more sophisticated: cryptic, alluring, alarming. There are no longer called implants. They are called ads.


In a previous class in which we'd discussed the article, the question had arisen: what is the precise meaning of "If you don't recall Ewen Cameron's famous brainwashing experiments, don't feel too bad -- neither do his patients." Why might a reader of the article feel bad?

The sentence fits a humorous/ironic pattern that's highly familiar to North American readers, and we instantly understand the intended sense. But this kind of thing completely eludes the Chinese.

In that previous class, all the students who'd ventured to explain the meaning got it wrong, so I'd explained: the ironically made suggestion is that a reader might feel "bad" because he would feel that he's too uninformed, that he should be better educated, more aware of such significant snippets of recent history. And -- the joke -- the reader is, again ironically, comforted by being assured that the lobotomized victims of the experiments are also unaware of this episode from recent history.

This is the explanation that my brave, foolhardy student was opposing, as he fought to defend his own Chinese take on the passage. (I might have captured it for posterity except I don't recall it being coherent.)

There were more complaints. Apparently the sister of Crystal, one of the girls in the class, had criticized my behavior while also reporting that I'd told her the Law students were poor students.

I've truly seen the ugly side of Chinese culture, I told the class: people smiling to my face while criticizing and signing complaints behind my back.

I'd met Crystal's sister once, in another class I was visiting -- on October 31, as it happened. We'd spoken for under 5 minutes. She'd given every appearance of being perfectly friendly and pleasant, and we'd exchanged email addresses. I'd surprised this class just afterwards, the week before, by mentioning that I'd met Crystal's sister.

I wrote the word "hypocrisy" on the board. I told the class about Iago's manipulation of the innocent Othello, and about Polonius' advice to his son in Hamlet:


This above all: to thine ownself be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.

Crystal's sister, I said, was the one guilty of bad behavior. She'd been insincere, plus her report that I'd criticized Law students was plain false. My comments about the Law students had always been consistent, I said. "I told others the same thing I've told you directly, and the same thing I put in my written report to the FAC administration: that the Law students are superior and mentally energetic."

But bright as they were, they'd surely been immensely foolish in their misinformed complaints about me. And surely someone had to let them see this truth.

I did not shirk the task. They'd frankly been idiots, I confessed to them.

The students sat there, wordless and morose. I didn't see any other points we particularly needed to cover just then.

"Any questions?"

Total silence.

"All right, homework for next week: read Groupthink [a short article I'd written after teaching their peers in the other section the day before]; and get me a copy of that letter you signed. And I will respond."

It was 9:20 AM. We'd been going since 8. I dismissed the class 20 minutes early.

32. Groupthink at FAC

Sent: Tuesday, February 04, 2003 10:40 PM

Groupthink at FAC
by Uriel Wittenberg
November 6, 2002

Groupthink seems to have recently swept through the student body at FAC. The majority of students in a class of Foreign Affairs majors that had been enthusiastic a week earlier rated me as their worst FAC teacher. Suddenly my attitude had become "unbearable," and most students, in that class and at least one other, believed I did not "respect" them, based on highly dubious reasoning.

Only a short time earlier, a typical view had been:


To be frank,you're a really persuasive teacher.I like to argue with you in class,because every time I can learn a lot.It's my luck to have a unique teacher as Uriel.

Or:


I think your class is very challenging for us, and we have to be always alert, and smart in your class, but I think that is OK, and we could learn a lot in your class.... We can learn a lot from you.

But now the authors of the above emailed comments, together with their peers, were suddenly vociferous in their objections to my style. When I told one of the classes that my sincere objective was to help students think better and make them mentally stronger, one girl laughed contemptuously.

It can happen that a person's views undergo an abrupt and dramatic change, but it's remarkable when it happens to a large group of individuals simultaneously. Based on heated discussions in my classes yesterday morning and this morning, I believe what has happened is an instance of Groupthink -- a phenomenon Irving Janis defines as "a mode of thinking that people engage in when they are deeply involved in a cohesive in-group, when the members' strivings for unanimity override their motivation to realistically appraise alternative courses of action."

Janis lists symptoms of Groupthink which include the following:

* Belief in Inherent Morality of the Group: Under the sway of groupthink, members automatically assume the rightness of their cause.

* Collective Rationalization, a mindset which dismisses differing views without adequate evaluation.

* Out-group Stereotypes: making simplistic and unfounded assumptions about people who are not members of the group.

* Self-Censorship: Individuals within the group suppress any doubts they feel themselves about the group's thinking.

* Illusion of Unanimity: group members have the false sense that the group is unanimous.

* Direct Pressure on Dissenters. Group members are pressured not to oppose the group's thinking.

* Self-Appointed Mindguards. "Mindguards" protect a leader from assault by troublesome ideas.

For more on Groupthink, see:

Groupthink, by Irving Janis
(a chapter of the Third Edition of A First Look at Communication Theory, by Em Griffin, 1997, McGraw-Hill, Inc.)
http://www.afirstlook.com/archive/groupthink.cfm

The diagrammatic Groupthink Model
http://choo.fis.utoronto.ca/FIS/Courses/LIS2149/Groupthink.html

RELATED LINKS:

The Greatest Newspaper Article In History
http://www.law.uga.edu/academics/profiles/dwilkes_more/his9_jaccuse.html

More on Dreyfus
http://www.wfu.edu/~sinclair/dreyfus.htm

Nightmare at the Day Care: The Wee Care Case
("The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters")
http://www.crimemagazine.com/daycare.htm

The Salem Witchcraft Trials of 1692
http://www.law.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/salem/SALEM.HTM

Yet more on Groupthink
http://www.css.edu/users/dswenson/web/TWAssoc/groupthink.html

33. Falseness to Self and Others

Sent: Wednesday, February 05, 2003 6:36 AM

I'd ended the Law class 20 minutes ahead of schedule, it's true. But given that we'd covered Kafka, Iago, Mind Control, Immorality, Tramphood, Relativism, Mixed Horses, and the CIA, I felt I'd accomplished as much as my taskmasters could reasonably expect from a full 90-minute session.

I headed back to my apartment with a spring in my step. It does one good to express oneself, especially in the name of some higher purpose, like educating the young.

The unctuous Otto, noted interpreter of Wang Yan utterances, was at the lobby desk as I entered the apartment building. He looked at me with surprise and asked, in an affable manner, whether I didn't have class that morning.

Why was this man so familiar with my teaching schedule? Was this FAC's purpose in appointing the same functionary to the posts of building manager and Foreign Affairs Office deputy director? Was this Wang Yan auxiliary reporting my comings and goings, spying on me right where I lived?

"Are you monitoring me?!" I asked him.

"Oh no, nonono," he answered with a smile. "I was just wondering ...."

"I do have a class, in fact. I cancelled it early," I told him.

"Oh, that's fine, no problem, no problem."

"Good," I said, and went up to my room.

Later that day there appeared an email from an ex-friend:


From: Elaine
To: <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Thursday, November 07, 2002 4:38 PM

NO ONE IN MY CLASS KNOWS ABOUT THAT LUNCH UNTIL YOU MADE IT AN INSULT ON ME TODAY!

NEVER HAD THAT LUNCH BECOME AN ACUSSATION OF YOU BEFORE THIS MORNING.

NOW I KNOW WHY YOU'RE TO BE KICKED OFF!


I replied:


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
To: Elaine
Sent: Thursday, November 07, 2002 11:23 PM

Dear Elaine,

You did not sound very clever when you declared my "immorality" without being able to offer any substantiation.

Cheers,

Uriel


Perhaps I would indeed be "kicked off." Of course I realized that my current trajectory was sub optimal from a job security point of view. But that remark of mine that had elicited Monica's scornful laugh had been sincere. My motive in the class was to help students. But if they refused the most important insight to be had at this point -- that they'd been wrong -- then I honestly had no interest in mollifying them, cooperating in their self-deception, or teaching these people anything else.

I had a dinner appointment that night with Alicia, one of my Wednesday Law students. She'd wanted to bring her boyfriend, which seemed silly -- I didn't know him and had never met him -- but I'd agreed.

I expected them at my apartment at 6:00 PM, but at 6:10 there was still no sign of them. It happened that I thought at that point of something I needed from the building staff, so I called down to the reception desk. They told me Alicia and her friend were waiting for me in the lobby. Alicia later told me that reception had ostensibly dialled my room for them when they'd arrived and told them I wasn't answering.

It would have been impossible for me not to hear the phone ring. Was this just an unaccountable screwup by the staff? Or were people messing with me? Or had somebody botched an installation of monitoring apparatus to spy on my calls?

Perhaps they flubbed the software reconfiguration when they reprogrammed the hot-button alarm list, deleting "bomb," "democracy," "falun gong" and inserting "girl," "invite," and "park" in their place.

I mentioned the problem to Otto the next morning. Possibly he might do a bit of building management on top of his other duties.

Alicia was one of my "appreciative" students and we'd always been friendly, so I had every expectation of an agreeable dinner. It was in fact uniquely acrimonious. The boyfriend was peevish and contrary, utterly humorless, constantly bickering, and thoroughly unpleasant. He was also, despite being a graduate student of law, phenomenally, stunningly illogical. He couldn't cope with common abstractions like "never" and "sometimes." It eventually seemed pointless to attempt to reason with him about anything.

Inevitably, dinner conversation turned on the complaint letter affair. They were both convinced beyond a doubt that the story of my taking Alicia's classmate Renee to a park late one night was true. I told them, simply, that it wasn't. To my surprise and irritation, they seemed to think I was lying.

I am quite sure Renee never set about in a rational manner to fabricate and spread explicit lies. Like the other delusions, the story could never have survived elementary scrutiny. I told Alicia to check with Renee -- she would find it was all a misunderstanding.

I reminded her several times before we parted that evening: check the park story with Renee. She said she would.

The next evening I called her. "I expected an email acknowledging you were wrong about my taking Renee to Beihai Park," I told her.

She said Renee had gone home to her parents' place (as she routinely did) and that she hadn't tried reaching her. But, she added, "it doesn't matter whether you actually took her to the park. What's important is that you invited her there."

34. Party!

Sent: Wednesday, February 05, 2003 7:47 PM

To reserve a suitable private party room for my volunteer dinner, I needed to know how many of my 14 volunteers would be coming. I naturally attempted to exploit the convenience of email to get confirmations. This should have worked, since the volunteer's job required email contact with me and they'd committed to check mail every day or two. But a few of them were a bit negligent in that regard. So:


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
To: [certain volunteers who hadn't yet answered an earlier message] Sent: Saturday, October 26, 2002 8:55 AM
Subject: Fw: Dinner FRIDAY NOVEMBER 1 -- please CONFIRM OR DECLINE

Dear Volunteers,

I haven't heard back from you yet. I need your response -- please let me know whether or not you'll be participating.

Cheers,

Uriel
-------------- [earlier correspondence forwarded] --------------

--------------------------------------------------

From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
To: [4 volunteers who still hadn't responded]
Sent: Saturday, October 26, 2002 10:33 PM
Subject: Fw: Dinner FRIDAY NOVEMBER 1 -- please CONFIRM OR DECLINE

Dear Volunteers,

I still haven't heard back from you. I guess some people aren't reading email too frequently. I'll have to phone you if I don't get replies.

Cheers,

Uriel
-------------- [earlier correspondence forwarded] --------------


I eventually gave up on email in the case of 2 or 3 of the volunteers, and contacted them by phone instead. One of the ones I called, a girl called Summer, wrote this the next day:


From: Summer
To: "'Uriel Wittenberg'" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Monday, October 28, 2002 11:25 AM
Subject: RE: Fw: Dinner FRIDAY NOVEMBER 1 -- please CONFIRM OR DECLINE

first i want to say sorry ,because i didn't check my mailbox frequently .and i do remember that you have told us we should check the mailbox every two days ,i don't want to find any excuse for the mistake .and i promise it will never happen again .
thanks a lot for your inviting , and i think i can attend it .please give me more detail on the time and location ,or i can't schedule my weekend . regards.
summer


Nine volunteers came to the Nov. 1 dinner, including Summer. A good time was had by all, although (as was the case with my two volunteer dinners at Tsinghua the year before) students from different classes who haven't met before tend to be rather shy here. We talked, joked, drank beer, sang some karaoke, and ate plenty of good Chinese food.

You'll recall this was before I was acquainted with the existence of any complaints, and I didn't learn about them that night. But it was earlier that day that Wang Yan initially requested a meeting, so presumably the complaints had already been signed and submitted to the Law and Diplomacy department deans by this point.

As we've seen, I learned of the complaints soon afterwards, and my contacts with female students were an important element. My most egregious offense -- a late-night park outing with Renee -- never happened. (Trust me, we'll deal more thoroughly with Renee at a later date.) The next biggest outrage was my shirt removal in a doctor's office, an act for which I accept full responsibility. The only other specific items I ever heard about in the category of objectionable contacts were my phone calls to female dorms made after 10:00 PM.

Reader, I can't give you statistics, but if you'll extend your narrator a bit of faith, you can believe I did not spend my evenings making unsolicited calls to female students in their dorms (which they shared with 5 roommates). A prosecutor would really have had very little raw data to work with here, though it seems my students were beseeched to ransack their memories.

So it would have been interesting to see what the complaint letters said. Unfortunately for all of us, however, it was of course imperative that the students be protected from me.

But my law student Dwilin was in the enviable position of having seen the letters -- at least, the one(s) he signed. As we know, that doesn't mean he read them -- not thoroughly enough to actually know what they mostly said, anyway. Nevertheless, he did produce a surprising revelation for me during our Nov. 8 trip to the hospital together. Included in the very short list of my objectionable late-night phone calls was the call I'd made to ... yes, one Summer. She had signed a letter complaining (among other things) about the call I'd made to invite her to the volunteer dinner! There was no mistake. It was the one and only call I ever made to her.

You may imagine that I entered into correspondence with Summer on this point. But by this time a sense was beginning to dawn that these students really didn't give much of a damn about being foolish, wrong, unprincipled, villainous.

"Yeah I'm a villain. So what?" That seemed to be the thought behind many a gracious smile.

So to improve my chances of getting Summer's attention, and at least the minimal satisfaction of a response, I c.c.'ed the 8 other dinner participants on my message to her:


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
To: Summer
Cc: [dinner participants]
Sent: Friday, November 08, 2002 11:23 PM
Subject: Amazed

Dear Summer,

I never suspected, as I was hosting my dinner for you and 8 other students, that the phone call I had to make to invite you to the dinner had become the subject of a complaint made behind my back to the FAC administration!

You seemed happy enough as you ate the multiple courses of food I paid for. How could I suspect you had been complaining to friends about the invitation that brought you there?

It was inconvenient for me, in organizing the dinner, to have to make some individual phone calls. I only called because you weren't reading email (as you had promised me to do). To my face (see below) you apologize. Behind my back, you criticize.

Is this "Chinese culture"?! This is going to astonish everyone -- Western or Chinese -- who hears the story.

As to exactly what time I made the phone call -- I can't remember. You gave no hint that you were displeased by the call when we spoke then or anytime later. If indeed I called after midnight it's most likely because the line was busy.

Sincerely,

Uriel

----- Original Message -----
From: Summer
To: "'Uriel Wittenberg'" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Monday, October 28, 2002 11:25 AM
Subject: RE: Fw: Dinner FRIDAY NOVEMBER 1 -- please CONFIRM OR DECLINE

first i want to say sorry ,because i didn't check my mailbox frequently .and i do remember that you have told us we should check the mailbox every two days ,i don't want to find any excuse for the mistake .and i promise it will never happen again .
thanks a lot for your inviting , and i think i can attend it .please give me more detail on the time and location ,or i can't schedule my weekend . regards.
summer


This produced the following correspondence, reproduced in its entirety for your edification:


From: Summer
To: "'Uriel Wittenberg'" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Sunday, November 10, 2002 8:23 AM
Subject: RE: Amazed

dear uriel ,
calm down and to be logical before you criticized other people .

how can u criticize a person without justification?

i haven't complain the dinner (in fact i should and want to say thanks for it sincerely)and the midnight-call to anyone ,and it's not the accusation in the letter .my classmates mentioned it just want to prove that you have called somebody at the improper time,because you always denied you had made the calls .

what do u mean by 'i seemed happy enough as i ate the multiple courses of food u paid for'?it 's a personal insult ,i ask for your apology. do not criticize chinese cultrue 'coz you haven't understood it really. i feel puzzled why you sent the letter ,which wrote to me ,to all og my classmates ,what do u want to get ?more accusation? no one wants to be your enemy and no one want to waste time to fight with u. i will not reply the letter if the content as ridiculous and stupid as this one .
regards
summer

--------------------------------------------------

From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
To: Summer
Cc: [dinner participants]
Sent: Sunday, November 10, 2002 7:51 PM
Subject: Re: Amazed

Summer,

First, I will comment that your manners are appalling. Perhaps you should reflect on your deficient respect for your teachers.

Second, your claim that I denied making calls is false. I never denied making calls.

Third, not only is it false of you to say I denied making the calls. It also does not even make sense. You are being illogical. I did not even discuss any of these calls until after I learned about your letters. Even if I had denied making the calls -- which I did not -- it would have been in the discussions that took place after I first heard about the students' complaints. But those discussions only occurred after the letters were signed and submitted to the administration.

Let me be quite explicit here. NO ONE, before the complaint letters to the administration, ever HINTED that there was any problem with my phone calls except the one time when Susie asked me not to call her later than 11:00 PM. (And I respected her wish.)

Fourth, you say you did not complain about my call to you. But you let everyone else complain about it, you signed the letter, and even in this message you say my call (which I only made for your benefit, to make sure you wouldn't miss the dinner invitation) was "improper".

I know you would like to manipulate others into thinking that this is about Uriel criticizing Chinese culture. (I didn't criticize it -- read my message more carefully.) But the true issue here is your terrible behavior.

In summary:

- You are being illogical, while implying I'm illogical.

- You are falsely calling me dishonest.

- You have demonstrated exceptional ingratitude.

- Now you say you don't want to "waste time" fighting. But you are the one who sent unjust criticisms to the administration behind my back. Did you hope I would silently submit?

Your complaint about my "improper" call is very public. Why are you so "puzzled" that my response isn't private?

--------------------------------------------------

From: Summer
To: "'Uriel Wittenberg'" <uw@urielw.com>
Cc: [dinner participants]
Sent: Monday, November 11, 2002 4:14 PM
Subject: RE: Amazed

Uriel,
I'm sorry if I didn't make myself fully understood in my last letter. You always say" to be logical", no problem, below are some logical points I wanna make:

First, I apologize if you feel "appalled" by my words which were not intended to give you shock because in my eyes, there're reasonable and proper explanations. You shouldn't have acted so strongly.

Second, you did admit making calls at 12 at class, but you said you had never called so late since Susie complained about it. the other students mentioned the call you gave me is just to illustrate you did do that again( and that's the fact). And what's more, you see, you can make mistakes, at least, you cannot always trust your poor memory which you think is forever working.

Third, the reason why I didn't complain about the call is because 1, It was not me who answered the call the other day, I was asleep, you were told that and you know that. In other words, I am NOT the direct victim. So in fact I didn't complain to any one ,which I have stressed time and time again. My roommates probably suffered more. So I believe it's pretty understandable for my roommates to mention that to you instead of me. 2, I didn't complain doesn't mean I regard it to be proper. There're three attitudes toward a behavior: Approve, Silent and Protest. I kept silent because I didn't think it was so serious but that doesn't equal to approval. Even so, everybody who signed the letter is repelled by some of your behaviors listed in the letter, not all. Your call is not, at least, not the main cause for me to sign.

Four, I've made it clear that I didn't complain about your call "behind your back", it's spread because all my roommates know it. The key problem is I don't need to complain, your behavior itself is considered improper by us all. I'm grateful for your dinner, and I'm sorry for not replying to your letter to the volunteers-----I never change my attitude. But do you think that's the way I express my satisfaction to your call? They are two different things, the email and the call. I admit that your intention might be good, but your way of conveying your intention is improper. And I'm saying this from the majorities' perspective, not mine, because I would also hold this point of view if it happened to someone else.

Five, I don't think you're criticizing Chinese culture, because what I said is based on common sense and social norms that are held by both the East and the West, if you cannot accept it, I'm afraid you're violating ordinary people's values, not Chinese culture.

Finally, I have no right to stop you from sending your letter to all, it's your own business. But you also publicized my letter to you without my permission. Don't you think that's tort of my privacy, whatever the contents are?

I hope this will help you understand my view a little bit more. And more discussion is welcome.
Regards,
Summer

--------------------------------------------------

From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
To: Summer
Cc: [dinner participants]
Sent: Thursday, November 14, 2002 9:45 PM
Subject: Re: Amazed

Summer,

In my efforts to be nice and friendly, I took the trouble to phone you to make sure you wouldn't miss my dinner invitation.

You came to the dinner. To my face you acted grateful and apologized for not reading your email. And behind my back you signed a letter to the admin complaining about the call.

It's as simple as that.

You've strived mightily to justify this betrayal. Your argument is much more clever and logical. But your treachery is too plain to miss.

Don't prattle to me about social norms. Reflect on yourself.

Uriel


There was no further word from Summer.

35. A Letter by Post

Sent: Thursday, February 06, 2003 12:40 AM

Although Summer gets the hypocrisy prize, the failure of the other Law and Diplomacy students at the dinner to inform me of the complaints was also bizarre. I questioned them too:


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
To: [9 dinner participants]
Sent: Saturday, November 09, 2002 12:50 AM
Subject: How about you?

To Nov. 1 dinner participants:

How about the rest of you? This story is going to fascinate Western people. How could you attend a dinner hosted by me at the same time as you are signing secret letters of complaint about me to the FAC administration? How could you not at least inform me of the letters? (I did not learn of the letters until the following Tuesday.) I am told that one of you is even working to get the FAC administration to fire me from my job.

I think it's going to seem unbelievable to Western people that university undergraduates could behave like this. Please explain to me how this is possible.

Uriel

P.S. I understand that the above does not apply to all of you, but it does apply to most of you.


This produced exactly one response, from a nice lady with abysmal English, one of my night students, whose sincerity I have no reason to doubt:


To: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Sunday, November 10, 2002 11:07 PM
Subject: Re: How about you?

Dear Sir,

Yes, you said it, it does not apply to me.

First, I say thank you again for your dinner on Nov. 1. I really had a good time that night, though my oral English and my listening are limited, I could not talk with you freely. But I am glad that I have a more chance to listen you and other students talking in English, for me it is also a practice to learn English.

Second, I did not know the letter, and I did not sign this kind letter.

Yours

Lola


*   *   *

A new week began. Monday! My exhausted diplomats!

I'd emailed them their reading assignment: my Groupthink article.

As class began, I discussed various points: my "unbearable attitude," Beihai Park, and other hot topics. Then I put it to them: "Wang Yan seems to think it's significant that practically all of you signed. But I'm told there was quite a bit of peer pressure to sign. Anyone who refused would be hated by his classmates. Isn't that so?"

Oh, I was rubbing salt in the wound. They didn't like it.

"I would not hate anyone who didn't sign," said one student after a spell.

"Well, maybe you wouldn't," I said.

"Not all the students would hate someone who didn't sign," said another. "The majority did want to sign the letters."

It was already obvious from their evasions. Eventually, under my prodding, it was acknowledged -- there'd been pressure.

Ben was in this class, a student who'd impressed China's Foreign Ministry enough to win a job offer. He'd been at my volunteer dinner and, at the same time, had allegedly been pursuing a campaign to have me fired. But this was unconfirmed.

"I'm told," I said to the class, with a discreet glance at Ben, "that at least one person who came to my dinner for volunteers was also working behind my back to have me fired by FAC. How could students accept my dinner invitation, eat my food, sing songs with me, while behind my back writing secret letters attacking me?"

But no one seemed to view this as objectionable behavior.

"These are separate things," one student explained.

Another, Christina, explained that the purpose of the dinner was for me to show appreciation for the work the volunteers had done -- the implication being that they'd earned the dinner regardless of their dislike for me.

Ben raised a question: "Who sang songs that night?"

How naive I'd been! I'd neglected to note who sang songs. But now I could surmise Ben had craftily kept his distance from the mike -- evidently the operational equivalent of having one's fingers crossed. It left one free to attack the host.

A foreigner in China is constantly told (and questioned) about "cultural differences." I told the class: "This is really a cultural difference. In the West, I don't think this would happen. This would be regarded as villainy."

I told this class too about Iago.

Since my teaching hadn't always hewed to uncontroversial blandness, the thought must have sprung upon one student: "Hey, we don't have to take this crap. This guy is vulnerable." So he piped up to offer a sanctimonious objection to my use of "very bad words."

"Don't be silly," I told him. "English has no 'very bad words,' it only has fuck and shit, which occur constantly in normal speech. I expect the same is true here of the equivalent Chinese words."

Someone said it was against the rules to say such words.

Well, I said, no one told me these rules.

Someone asked if I thought it was up to the students to inform a teacher of the rules.

During mid-class break, I walked over to the Foreign Affairs Office to give them some medicine receipts for reimbursement. Rebecca handed me a letter that had come in the mail for me, which seemed a bit curious -- my mom was the only person who'd sent me anything by mail before at FAC (she's a proficient emailer but it was a package), and she'd addressed it to my residential building rather than the department. Anyway, it couldn't be her, the envelope was hand-addressed in Chinese characters.

I returned to the class. The break wasn't quite over. I opened the envelope. It contained a single sheet of paper on which had been printed a message. I read it, then decided to read it aloud to the class:


Dear Mr. Uriel Wittenberg,

Do you know what we think of you? You have given us the impression of being a notorious rascal who is hostile towards our country and often harass the girl students. You can't imagine how we hate you. Please be warned that if you don't stop attacking on China and harassing the girls, you will be taught a good lesson. It is not a big talk that it is easier to disable you or kill you than to kill a dog.


36. Trajectories Unchanging

Sent: Thursday, February 06, 2003 9:58 AM

The death threat underscores what a lucky Foreign Expert I was. Imagine if I'd been teaching not at a school of diplomacy but, say, at a school for martial arts?

Hearing the contents of the letter made my Monday diplomats quite jovial. They laughed as I read it out aloud -- even at the conclusion. I told them in the U.S. a threat like this would be illegal -- as I expected it was here. I added I'd be giving it to the police. That prompted one girl to ask why I didn't take my ungrateful guests from the volunteer dinner to court.

Discussion proceeded. Around 11:20 AM (20 minutes before the end of class), Ben politely requested that we abandon the subject of the student complaints and turn to a different topic. I said no. This was the most topical topic at hand.

Ben's demeanor changed. I'd never seen him look anything other than bland and nondescript before; now he was clearly angry. He muttered something to the others in a low voice in Chinese, then got up and walked to the exit at the back of the room.

The others started putting away their things. They were going to leave as well. (A group that coheres together, groupthinks together.)

A boy called Bright, quicker than the others, was right behind Ben. He was the tall boy whose vacuous presentation the others had applauded three weeks earlier. A moment before exiting he turned to face me and shouted, "Fuck off!" Then, with a self-satisfied smile, he was gone.

All the others followed. Some were silent and unhappy looking. But departing was an imperative, it seemed, that they could not defy.

I returned to the Foreign Affairs Office and asked Rebecca if I could use the office photocopier. Teachers were ordinarily stuck with a less-than-prompt photocopying service elsewhere, but Rebecca did as I requested. We went together to the adjoining office and made a copy of the death threat and the envelope it came in. Then we returned to the Foreign Affairs Office. Li Jing was there too. I then showed them both the message.

They appeared somewhat stunned, at a loss.

I told them I wanted them to call the police.

I stressed: "I want this dealt with seriously. Don't give it to some lower-level official who might mishandle or even lose it."

Li Jing began fussing with the letter.

"Don't touch it!" I told her sharply. "The police might want to do some kind of forensics tests on the letter or envelope."

I smile at the memory. What movies had I been watching?!

As they lingered helplessly, I told them: "Call the police now."

Li Jing said she didn't know how. She didn't know the number. There were many different police stations (or departments). Which should she call? She had to go through campus security but ... she sighed in frustration as she picked up a phone and began dialling ... it was too close to the lunch hour (about 11:30 AM), she was afraid there'd be no answer.

She was right, campus security didn't answer.

In the end, Li Jing suggested I keep the documents for now and that we talk again after the lunch break (which ended at 2:00 PM).

I agreed, and returned to my apartment.

Around 2:45 PM I returned. Rebecca was there, and I gave her the envelope and letter.

She asked, with a smile, "Do you trust me?"

"Good grief!" I said. "I assume we're on the same side here."

Wang Yan was present in the office. She obviously had something on her mind but was unsure how to begin. She sidled up to me.

"So, how's your teaching going?"

I told her, "Good, I'm enjoying it."

"How about the students?" she pressed. She'd heard ... blablabla. Also, it seemed, I'd ended a class early last week. (The adjunct, I immediately thought. Otto.)

I answered: "A student in today's class just told me to 'fuck off.' That might concern you too."

"Why did he say that?" she rejoined.

She blabbed some more, seemingly totally unconcerned about the death threat and the students' misbehavior.

I told her she might want to inquire into a student telling a teacher to fuck off.

She said she didn't know who it was.

"His English name is Bright," I said. "And the whole class knows."

She blabbed some more about my teaching.

I told her I didn't have time for this discussion just now. I'd actually just stopped in briefly because of an issue of a ... I emphasized the words to try to overcome her normal imperviousness ... death threat. Perhaps that could move her one-track mind.

"I don't know about that ...." she said vaguely. "I haven't read the letter yet."

"I hope you'll treat this threat very seriously," I told her.

"This is not the school's business," she replied.

I stared at her. "I think it's very much the school's business if one of its invited foreign teachers receives a death threat."

"What I meant is that it's not my personal responsibility to investigate this."

She blabbed some more about the students, suggesting I drop the topic of the complaint letters. The students weren't happy, there'd been more complaints....

I suggested we schedule a second meeting if she wanted to discuss this, I didn't have time just at the moment.

"Perhaps I will write you a letter," she said with an ominous air.

"Good," I said. That got her out of my hair.

I spoke some more with Rebecca about the threat. She said she'd notified the police. She didn't know, but perhaps they would want to speak to me, maybe later today.

Good, I told her, I'd be glad to do what I could to help them investigate.

37. Cultural Commonality

Sent: Friday, February 07, 2003 12:33 AM

A whirlwind of false allegations was spinning unchecked. Now I'd been threatened with death. But for FAC, as represented by Wang Yan, the only issue was my attitude.

The solution was obvious: I would write a letter.

I can hear your groans: "For Pete's sake, haven't we had enough letters?! There's been nothing but letters in this insane story. Complaint letters, threatening letters, flattering letters, insulting letters, accusing letters, denial letters. And where have they all led? Right to the unholy mess you're in right now."

Yes yes, but this letter would be different. It would be an open letter -- a public response to all the nonsense my detractors had spread. It wouldn't threaten to kill anyone. And it'd be so lucid, rational and clear that it would set straight all the people who mattered, and reason would be restored.

Wang Yan would suffer scorching embarrassment -- that couldn't be helped -- but everyone would see that my motives were untainted by any retaliatory impulse, since I would discreetly refrain from mentioning her name, and any necessary allusion to her existence would be understated.

The tone generally would evince gravitas. An idea came to me that made me chortle to myself -- I could think of one or two diplomatic tricks myself, couldn't I? Rather than condemning the Law and Foreign Affairs deans for siccing Wang Yan on me, my new letter would thank them for having had the complaints brought to my attention.

This masterpiece is what I was working on in my cozy FAC apartment that night (the same day I'd received the death threat). And what a lot of work it was, with so many ridiculous delusions to be patiently demolished.

Then around 9:30 PM, a knock sounded at my door.

That was curious. I wasn't expecting anyone.

I did go answer the door, of course. But, indeed, I'd been quite entirely absorbed in my task and the various associated reflections it inspired. Cultural differences! Of course much nonsense has been spewed on this subject, but the differences were real. Could I articulate them? It wasn't easy to put together my many observations of China and my general experience of Western culture and arrive at anything very definite or satisfactory.

One obvious thesis presenting itself -- that the Chinese are distinguished by a pathetic failure of individuality -- was likely simplistic. It was true that Western students probably would not conform so unanimously and blatantly to the idiotic regimentation my students had submitted to. But might that merely reflect their own programming, the inculcation of the Western ideal of individuality? And wouldn't it mainly be the blatancy of the attempted regimentation -- "Sign this letter! Show your support!" -- that would make them rebel?

Surely there's plenty of conformity in the West. One particularly overt type of student conformity is the noxious habit of getting "wasted" (apt term) on a regular basis. Students aren't doing that in China (which helps explain the different response times of campus security in Chinese and American universities).

The failure of individuality in the West is really the point of that New Yorker article, "My Goals," reproduced above. The piece is funny in its depiction of a man whose inner landscape is suffused with advertising cliches, but what's being satirized is conformity of a different order, beyond mere outward behavior or momentary passion. The man's very soul is enslaved to the yearnings, aspirations and inchoate images implanted into his psyche by propagandists seeking only to peddle mundane goods and services.

Anyway, of course China has its individuals, for example, one of my more fiery friends and supporters:


To: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Tuesday, November 12, 2002 4:11 PM
Subject: Re: Don't worry!

Uriel:

Please ensure the safety of youself. I cannot imagine what the students reacted when you recited the death-threat letter.

If you do something wrong, they can charge you through the proper channel. But the stealthy letter!

Uriel, fight for your basic right.

Sincerely
...

--------------------------------------------------

To: "'Uriel Wittenberg'" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Tuesday, November 19, 2002 2:38 AM
Subject: Don't worry!

Dear Uriel:

I think it is unbelievable, how can they fire you in the mid of a semester?

A school of fish and a host of fools!

Anyway, don't worry, I can see what I can do. Tomorrow, I will call my friends from Singapore, she is a Christen, a very kind person, she teached English for many years.

And I will see the president in our college,

Yes, [my university] is a good idea. THe expense will be much lower, and you will have a new experience. Forget Foreign Affairs College! You know, the politician is always a parcel of bastard. Uriel, it is hard to do things in another country. Don't worry, Uriel, it is very easy for you to find a new job in China.

I don't know whether you save some money. If not, I can borrow you some.

The worst thing is merely that for the time being you cannot find an appropriate job considering it is in the middle of a semester....

Best wishes!

Sincerely
...


38. Cherry Tops Off Death Threat (Courtesy of Wang Yan)

Sent: Friday, February 07, 2003 9:02 AM

There was, I say, a knock at the door.

Was it a distinct sequence of unapologetic taps? Or more a self-conscious, so-sorry-to-intrude-so-late-at-night type of thing?

Frankly, I don't remember.

In case you were thinking it'd probably be the police, you were wrong. But it's a reasonable guess. I had been expecting them earlier in the day. But at this point, 9:30 PM (actually 9:45 PM, a document from that time reminds me), I didn't think it likely it was them.

Anyway, it wasn't a police type of knock. Police people tend to do a gruff rap, a show-your-face-now-you-don't-want-to-see-us-impatient sort of thing. One supposes they deal a lot with dopeheads and loud-music party animals who can't hear anything softer.

No, in fact it was just one of the building staffers. You'll never guess what they were delivering.

How on earth did you guess?! Yes, it was a letter!


November 11, 2002

Dear Mr. Uriel Wittenburg [sic],

Since our talk with you on November 5, 2002 about the students' dissatisfaction with your teaching and your attitudes towards the students, the situation has not improved. Moreover, you finished your class 20 minutes ahead of the schedule with International Law Students. This is serious violation of the school regulation. If the situation does not improve within next three weeks the school will terminate our contract with you.

Sincerely,

[stamp with no signature]

Foreign Affairs Office


Wang Yan. A resolution to scribble something ... something, oh, injurious, something harsh, something forthrightly negative and hostile -- had flashed into her mind and possessed her, right before my eyes, that afternoon in the Foreign Affairs Office, when I'd declined to listen to more of her blablabla.

It'd been nearly a whole week since she'd repeatedly threatened me with firing. It was a pleasure to do it again. "It's not only those Western encroachers who can speak directly" was probably the thought behind her pulsing temples and gritted teeth.

An excellent lady, as I say. Decisive. Knew her mind.

Still, unaccountably, I was pissed off, and my own resolution -- not to speak of her in my own letter -- evaporated. This was the open letter I hand-delivered the next day to the offices of the two deans, then afterwards placed on my website and announced by email to all my Law and Diplomacy students:


---------------------
OPEN LETTER
---------------------

TO:

---------------------
Dean Jiang Guo Qing, Dept. of International Law
Dean Zhou Qi Peng, Dept of Diplomacy
Foreign Affairs College, Beijing
---------------------

Monday, November 11, 2002

Dear Deans Jiang Guo Qing and Zhou Qi Peng:

I write to respond to the letters of complaint that my students have recently submitted to you. I would like to thank you for promptly arranging to have the letters brought to my attention.

I believe this public response is appropriate because the students' complaints are essentially public -- they are known to all my Law and Foreign Affairs students, since virtually all of them signed the complaints. Regrettably, however, there is one concerned individual who has not yet been given the opportunity to read the letters: myself.

I have however spoken to students about them, both in my classes and privately, and it is clear the criticisms are riddled with misconceptions and errors of fact. A public response is therefore also a necessary corrective for students who have allowed themselves to be manipulated by certain of their peers.

It has been put to me by a FAC representative that the unanimity of the students is in itself proof that there must be merit in their position. How could they all be wrong? Let me begin by pointing out that this viewpoint is based on a misunderstanding of the student culture at FAC. The students' unanimity is an illusion. Students have privately informed me that other students would resent or even hate an individual student who refused to sign the letters. One student apologized to me for signing, saying he had no choice. Another told me that although he was not well informed about the complaints, boys were obliged to sign the complaints to show "support" for the girls who complained.

I raised this point about the social pressure to sign the complaints in my 2001122 (Foreign Affairs) class today. The students acknowledged (reluctantly) that the pressure indeed existed.

Considering that this is a school of diplomacy, it is odd that students have resorted to an attack of this kind without making any prior attempt to discuss concerns with me. Indeed, it came as a considerable surprise when I learned of the existence of these letters from the administration last week. (This was also the only time my performance had ever been criticized by the administration.) The indications I'd received until then had been that the students -- at least in three of the four classes concerned -- were quite pleased with my teaching.

This preference for attack as a first option is perhaps most evident in the case of one of my International Law classes (2000412). When one student wrote me a private note saying that several students were displeased, I emailed all the students in the class (without identifying her) to inquire whether there was a problem. I also expressed my readiness to make changes according to their preferences:


Students, one of your classmates informs me that "quite a lot of students" in your class are unhappy with my teaching. Is this true? I was under the impression that you are quite pleased with my class. Please discuss amongst yourselves and let's talk in class about any changes you would like.
The facetious subject line I gave for the above email message was, "Hate my teaching?" I understand that this has been cited in complaint letters as evidence of a problem in my teaching (although, again, I have not seen the letters).

The only student to email a response stated:


We don't hate your class since you are a very responsible and careful teacher. And we do learn much from your class. You don't need to worry about this. You are a good teacher really.

What the problem is that you, a foreign teacher and us, Chinese students sometimes think in different ways because of our culture background, our education background and so on. Maybe we don't like some of your way of doing things and dealing with others.

For example, you sometimes focus on very little details and spend much class time on it. This shows you're meticulous. Unfortunately, we don't think it is so necessary. This is a problem of intrinsic understanding, not because we 'hate' your class.


In the next class (Oct. 23) I raised their satisfaction with the course as a discussion topic. Some students did offer some objections, but they seemed ill-founded. I followed this up on Oct. 25 with another email to all the students in the class, excerpted here:


I'm interested in genuine proposals on how to improve the class, but none of your suggestions in our Oct. 23 discussion seemed to make much sense (except that I should talk more slowly).

You said I ask questions that cannot be answered based on the knowledge you have. It is strange that none of you could produce a single example. I ask many questions. If the criticism were well-founded, one would think you could think of at least one example.

Somebody said I should present background before you read material. I find I am simply unable to agree. I have just carefully reviewed "Federal Agency Accuses City of Illegally Ignoring Harassment," the article we'd been discussing at the time of our discussion. There is practically NOTHING there you would be unable to understand because of missing background knowledge. There are a few references -- NOW, "supposedly law-enforcement Mayor" -- that you might not appreciate, but that would hardly detract from a thorough understanding of all the main points.

If you have any other comments I'd be glad to discuss them, either via email or in class. Of course it should be clear I'm not the type to abuse my grading power by punishing critics. (And I take pains to explain my grading scheme; you should be able to verify the objectivity of the scores I give you.) Feel free to express yourself ....


Again, my subject line was "Hate my class?" This time three students responded, all with praise, excerpted here:

Student #1:


None of us, at least as far as I know, have said that we hate your class. Maybe some of us feel nervous in your class, but we never hate it. I think it is very chanllenging for us, and we have to be always alert, and smart in your class, but I think that is OK, and we could learn a lot in your class.
Student #2:


To be truth , I like the materials you gave us ,I like the way of your analysis to these materials, and i like these topices ,because those make me learn more about other culture.

Student #3:


I must announce that I don't hate your class, because I think I can learn a lot of interesting things in it. Your lesson is very good and your explain to the article is logical. I enjoy it very much.

These emails were written by the students between October 28 and 30. None of the responses offered any substantive criticisms (other than the comment that I sometimes speak too fast). Yet, somehow, all the students in this class launched their "attack" very shortly afterwards -- without having made any serious attempt to communicate about the problems they perceived.

It is one of the many ironies of this affair that, apparently, the phrase "abuse of grading power" in my own message above was appropriated for use as a supplementary complaint about me. It is remarkable how very carefree the students are in making false charges about a teacher. It seems that the students feel that as long as they act together as a group, they can do whatever they wish without needing to be concerned for the consequences.

I am in fact quite conscientious about my "grading power," and I make some efforts to make it plain to the students that my grading of tests is objective. The email message where they learned the "abuse of grading power" phrase explains how they can see for themselves that I do not abuse my grading power. Yet the students apparently feel at liberty to irresponsibly accuse me of abusing this "power."

But abuse of grading power is only a footnote in the long list of charges I am obliged to answer. "Abuse of grading power" would not suffice to generate the hysteria and genuine emotion that have seized my students. It would not enable Li Ming, one of my Foreign Affairs students, to feel confident in the support of his classmates as he strode out of my classroom today, shouting at me to "Fuck off!" Just as all the students had sheepishly and uniformly signed the complaint letters, today they all followed Li Ming and abandoned my class in unison.

This is a class of students who are scheduled to receive a second degree in Foreign Affairs about 8 months from now. Some will go on to work for China's Foreign Ministry.

The natural culmination of the hooliganism exemplified by Li Ming's behavior would be a death threat. Indeed, that is precisely what I received today, in a hand-addressed envelope delivered to me via the Foreign Affairs Office. (The Foreign Affairs Office is notifying the Beijing police, at my request. More on this below.)

There is an obvious stratagem for malicious students wishing to generate hysteria about a male teacher from the West: to suggest improprieties and harassment of female students. This predictable course has indeed been pursued. Numerous unfounded charges along these lines have been made. The International Law students were utterly convinced, for example, that I had taken one of their female classmates alone to a park late one night, which sounds very sinister. When I denied that this had ever happened, one girl asked me skeptically: "Do you think she would lie about something like this?"

This particular conversation again strikingly illustrates how indifferent some of the students are to the possibility that accusations they make about a teacher are baseless. The girl was adamant about the park story and clearly did not believe me. I told the girl to check with her friend -- she would find it was a misunderstanding. Twenty four hours later I called her to inquire about the result. She had not bothered to call her friend, but had now changed her position: it did not matter whether or not we had gone to a park. What was significant was that I had suggested going to a park.

Perhaps I can dispel this foolish story by adding that there was no proposal to go anywhere "late at night," no proposal to go any place not full of perfectly respectable Chinese people, and not the least breach of decorum on my part.

In their hysteria, the students are also convinced that a grave impropriety occurred when two female students accompanied me to the hospital to see a doctor about a mild chest rash. The doctor, a Chinese man of about 55, spoke to my two students and to me. He knew they were my students. Then, with the girls in the same room, he asked me to remove my shirt, and I did so. This, an entire class of International Law students insisted to me, constituted a violation of Chinese cultural norms. Needless to say, in this case too, the girls never uttered a word of their grievance to my face, but only behind my back.

I asked the class why the Chinese doctor did not understand Chinese culture. The students had nothing coherent to say in reply.

The students are also very agitated about stories that have circulated about late-night phone calls made by me to the female dorms. Again, the anger and emotion are unfounded. The simple fact is that no one, before the complaint letters to the administration, ever hinted that there was any problem with any phone call I made, except once, when a student asked me not to call later than 11:00 PM. (I apologized and did as she requested. I normally called after 11:00 PM if I wanted to reach students at Tsinghua last year, because they usually did not return to their dorms earlier than that time.)

One of the examples of improper calls cited in the complaint letters is particularly astonishing. It involves a dinner held on Friday, November 1, to which I invited 14 of my students who assist me as volunteers. I have 2 volunteers in each of my 7 classes, and they assist me with photocopying and the maintenance of student lists. I invited the volunteers as a gesture of gratitude and friendliness.

To make arrangements with the restaurant I needed to know how many were coming, so I emailed the volunteers requesting that they either confirm attendance or let me know they would not be attending. A minority, however, were not checking their email (as they had agreed to do when becoming volunteers), so I was obliged to make phone calls in a few cases.

One of the ones I phoned, a girl, sent me an email the next day:


first i want to say sorry ,because i didn't check my mailbox frequently .and i do remember that you have told us we should check the mailbox every two days ,i don't want to find any excuse for the mistake .and i promise it will never happen again .

thanks a lot for your inviting , and i think i can attend it .please give me more detail on the time and location ,or i can't schedule my weekend .

regards.


The girl attended the dinner and apparently enjoyed herself. She certainly offered no hint to me that she or anyone else had a complaint about my call. I learned the following week, however, that the phone call I had to make to invite her was one of the examples given, in a complaint letter which she signed, of my objectionable calls to the female dorms.

Another complaint asserts that I am a classroom dictator -- I trample the students' rights to independent opinions, I brook no dissent, I condemn anyone who differs from me as being wrong.

I have discussed this complaint with several classes since I learned of it, and it is clear at this point that many students are captives of relativism -- the view that there is no absolute right and wrong, that all opinions are legitimate. Some students have argued quite strenuously that all questions have multiple correct answers, and it is wrong and offensive of me to insist on only one.

My teaching method in the classroom is to stimulate thinking and discussion about readings by posing questions. It is true that many of the answers I hear reflect errors of comprehension. (And, of course, I explain why.) I have asked the students, in discussing their complaint, to offer a single example of a "wrong" answer that could be defended. I have been teaching here for two months. Surely, if their complaint is warranted, they can produce at least one example?

At this, the critics fall silent. They can produce no example.

Not only do students actively resent a teacher telling them when they are wrong. It seems that these students feel it is inherently unjustifiable to label any idea as being wrong. I would submit that the education of these students is incomplete.

It was my firm intention as I began writing this letter not to make any reference to Ms. Wang Yan of the Foreign Affairs Office. But this resolution came to an end when a staff member of the IEC building knocked on my door as I was composing this letter tonight, at 9:45 PM, and handed me a letter from her.

This is a special day for me in China. No one has ever threatened to kill me before. The stark message delivered to me today says: "You can't imagine how we hate you. If you don't stop attacking on China and harassing the girls, you will be taught a good lesson. It is easier to kill you than to kill a dog."

I showed the letter shortly before noon to the staff of the Foreign Affairs Office, who were naturally perturbed. They sought advice from campus security on how to contact the Beijing police authorities, but campus security was unavailable so they asked me to return in the afternoon. When I did so they assured me that police authorities would be contacted and advised that the police might want to speak to me.

But Wang Yan was also present in the office. Although she had been told about the letter by her subordinates, she seemed completely unconcerned about the matter. She wanted to renew our conversation of the previous week in which she had brought the complaint letters to my attention. "How is your teaching going?" she began, as a prelude to telling me there had been further student complaints about me.

I pointed out that I had come to the office because of a death threat. She answered: "I don't know about that .... I have not read the letter yet." When I stressed that I hoped she would treat the matter seriously, she took me aback by saying the matter is "not our business." I said I thought it was very much the school's business if a teacher invited from abroad receives a death threat from students. Since this was too obvious to deny, she then said that what she had meant was that it's not her business to personally investigate a death threat -- a bizarre and irrelevant remark.

I mentioned how Li Ming had behaved in class. Her response was: "Why did he say that?" Wang Yan has so entirely swallowed the students' versions of events that she expects to find some way to blame me when a student tells me to "fuck off."

Wang Yan's attitude has made me reflect on the "abuse of power" charge that has been made against me, as well as her remark in our Nov. 5 meeting that she cannot show me the students' complaint letters because she needs to "protect the students" from me. It is of course self-evident to the students that I actually have very little power over them. Wang Yan, by contrast, has considerable power. I wonder whether the irresponsible accusations that have been made against me by students, and the delinquency exhibited by Li Ming, would be possible if the students did not sense some form of implicit approval from Wang Yan.

I returned to my apartment, expecting that I might hear from the police, or at least receive confirmation from someone that police had been contacted and would investigate. But there has been no word. Instead, the letter from Wang Yan berates me for my "attitudes towards the students" and criticizes me because last week, exceptionally, I ended one of my classes 20 minutes early, which her letter terms "a serious violation of the school regulation."

Although the Director of the Foreign Affairs Office is serene about this threat against my life, I take it seriously. I am obviously vulnerable if FAC does not take adequate measures to ensure my physical safety.

I do not have the impression that the students are any more revolted by this cowardly threat than Wang Yan. I received the threat letter during the mid-class break this morning and read it out loud to my Foreign Affairs class. Most of the students, some of whom may be China's future diplomats, laughed and seemed pleased and amused by the letter. When I told them that a death threat is a criminal act in the U.S. (and, I would expect, in China too), one girl asked sarcastically why I didn't sue the ungrateful students who had attended my group dinner.

I will be contacting the President of FAC about this matter shortly. If I am not assured, publicly, by a senior official of FAC, that the threat against me will be aggressively investigated and that FAC will guarantee my physical security, then you will not have to worry about any more complaints about me -- because I will leave FAC.

Of course, our main business here is teaching. It was my firm impression, until the abrupt change of atmosphere that occurred recently, that most students were quite pleased with what they were learning in my class. Even now, in the wake of the secret complaint letters, I would submit to you that the students are receiving an extraordinary lesson in groupthink, the phenomenon by which a cohesive group of people can arrive at delusional conclusions. Some students will be permanently angry and bitter, forever in the grip of the passions that have been aroused. Others may find the experience enlightening and derive important benefits from it in the future.

In inquiring into the points I have discussed above, it may be helpful to obtain further information from me. I would be pleased to meet with you and do everything I can to assist you in resolving the issues.

Sincerely,

Uriel Wittenberg


39. Speechless Diplomats

Sent: Friday, February 07, 2003 11:27 AM

November 12, 10 AM. It was time for Tuesday Diplomacy, and more tumult and acrimony were in store.

The classroom had two doors, one next to where I stood at the front, the other at the back. As class began, I used an inside knob to bolt the front door locked. I wasn't going to be paranoid, but after all my life had been threatened the day before, and it seemed too easy for someone to spring in, knife me, and abscond.

"After the death threat, we have to have a bit more security around here from now on," I explained to the class.

The by now routine hostilities began.

Cindy was upset that sometimes, when a correct test answer should include points A, B and C, my grading scheme would only award marks for A.

Well, why not? That was like complaining that the test didn't have questions she knew the answer to.

A variety of other questions and challenges were put to me. At one point, when several hands were up in the air, I called on William. As he posed his question, Lily the screecher angrily jabbed her hand skyward and continued to hold it aloft peremptorily as I answered William's question.

When done answering William (and I wasn't especially long-winded) I called on her. She declared with great irritation: "I've had my hand up for one or two minutes."

The girl was so self-absorbed she seemed to feel she and I were alone in the room and I'd kept her waiting out of pointless spite.

She then delivered a not-brief lecture about how she'd had some training in pedagogical methods and she knew something about it and the teacher should always encourage students by always giving them some points on a test. Giving zero showed disrespect for a student.

I demurred.

The clashing continued, me against the students.

Then William announced: "Uriel, you are excellent. The students are excellent. But we can't communicate."

I answered: "You're diplomats!"

What was he going to say as a Chinese diplomat, seated across from his American counterparts? "You guys are excellent, but, sorry, we can't communicate"?

Justin evinced great skepticism when I referred to complimentary emails from students. "Let us see these emails," he said.

I asked if he had any reason to doubt my honesty.

He said: "I don't trust you."

He demanded to know: emails from which class, this or the Monday class?

Justin, I'm told, is one of the four luminaries who were singled out by China's Foreign Ministry, following multiple day-long interviews by a panel of questioners, and who'll be working there upon graduation in July.

But there was no need to potentially embarass anyone for the sake of placating this fellow.

"The emails were sent by Foreign Affairs students," I told him. That should be good enough.

"So," he said, "not from this class."

The exchange continued. At one point he said he'd give me a low grade for an answer I gave to one of his questions, and added that it was unfair that I could give them grades but they couldn't give me grades.

The point about social pressure to sign the complaint letters came up. Justin denied there'd been any pressure on students to sign the letters. It seemed fair to guess that he'd been one of the ones applying pressure.

At another point he was shouting, trying to push me around: "Do you think you can succeed [in your education goal]?"

"No teacher can teach without the cooperation of the students," I answered.

"So you mean the students are not cooperating?"

I answered: "Stop putting words in my mouth. It looks to me like YOU'RE probably one of the ones who were manipulating the other students."

Justin demanded an apology. "You are ruining me!" he shouted.

Then he got up to depart. It was 11:20 AM, just like the day before. Maybe that was when stomachs started growling.

Ridiculously, Justin stopped at the front door of the classroom and told me I should unlock it, since I'd been the one to lock it.

I looked at him in amusement.

"No," I said. "You're going to have to unlock it."

He marched to the back door of the classroom. But there was something wrong with it; he couldn't open it. So he returned to the front -- I was watching all of this -- unlocked it, and left.

True to form, all the other students followed.

Except two, who lingered to wish me well. One seemed sincere. The other, I guessed, was playing all sides, being a clever diplomat.

40. More Bile From a Once-Reticent Chinese Girl

Sent: Saturday, February 08, 2003 3:56 PM

November 12 (continued). My Tuesday Diplomacy duties discharged, I returned home, stopping as I entered my apartment building to have a word with Otto in his office by the lobby. There was something I was curious about.

"Did you report to Wang Yan last week that I dismissed my class early?"

He flashed his ever-ready smile. "Oh you know, that's public knowledge."

"Well, sure -- the students knew about it. Still, I was wondering if you were the one who told her."

His cellphone had made no sound, yet something terribly interesting must have appeared on the display just then because Otto began scrutinizing it very closely.

"I don't think so ...." he drawled with a highly distracted air, his eyes focussed on the cellphone.

I watched him a few moments. A lot of people these days seemed unenthusiastic about my discussion topics. I turned to go. He was still absorbed in his cellphone as I left.

The next day a note from his underling Benjamin was left taped to my door requesting payment of 280 yuan (about $34) to the building management. This represented an expense for my apartment that the management had paid and apparently assumed two months before.

Otto's power was less than awesome, but it looked like I'd touched a nerve and he was deploying what limited firepower he could command.

*   *   *

Wednesday, November 13.

Are you ready for my next class? So was I! I got up early, had breakfast, and headed out for my 8:00 AM Law class. But ... what was this? Was I in the wrong room? Not a soul was present. I checked the room number. Yes, I was in the right place.

The students had resolved to stay away. No great harm, but ... again, that appalling unanimity!

I returned home and wrote them:


From: "Uriel Wittenberg"
Sent: Wednesday, November 13, 2002 8:10 AM
Subject: courtesy

Dear WE8 Students,

I am once again dazzled by the uniformity of your actions.

It's OK with me if you wish to skip my class, but it would have been more courteous if one of you had told me; then I wouldn't have had to bother going to the empty classroom for nothing.

Cheers,

Uriel


Alicia was in this class -- my dinner companion who'd satisfied herself that I was still culpable even if the park story was untrue. She wrote me that night:


To: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Wednesday, November 13, 2002 11:33 PM
Subject: To " gentleman"

Considering you claimed yourself as a gentleman, and in order to reply your letter, send you the letter, see attachment.

-------- [MS Word attachment contents follow. Boldface in original.] --------

HI, Gentleman Uriel:

1. Reason for not attending your class.

I know it might not be a good way to show our dissatisfaction by not attending your class. We didn't intend to do so; in fact we had never did that before. But this time we really can't bear your behavior any more, we have to do so. Our class is for English discussion, we are expected to practice our English, to learn more about English culture and to contact with different ways of thinking, to practice how to express our own ideas, but not arguing with you about the letter and we have no obligation to accept your "absolutely right opinion" which is not forever working. However, in our last class, you spent the whole 90 minutes of our precious time discussing about the letter, without teaching what we are expected to learn. In class 2000411, you even left before the bell rang. We don't want to waste time arguing with you any more, we are not skipping your class, we are demonstrating to show our anger, that's why we didn't show up today.

2.You said you were a gentleman, but from your behavior I really doubt what is your definition of a "gentleman".

Will a gentleman keep using the word "silly", "crazy" and even a "village girl" to his students? It could be an infringement of their human dignity.

Will a gentleman use the words "shit" "fucking" during his classes and conversation? (I hope that you did not use the word so often as to forget that you even mentioned it.)

Will a gentleman do such things hereinafter? You said you never went to Beihai Park alone with a girl (which you did not deny in class) and shouted "We never entered the fucking park", when you had dinner with my bf an I, but whether you went into the park is not the point we are trying to make. We mentioned the story just to say that it is not proper to invite a girl alone so late to such a distant place, whether you went into the park or not is not important. When we mentioned Beihai Park in class, we didn't mention the girl's name, but you mentioned her name yourself, why did you think of her name immediately when we mentioned Beihai Park? Will a gentleman say "she's silly because she's angry"?

When you dialed my cell phone that night, and argued that you did not enter the park, I was polite enough to listen to you, although I think what you were saying is illogical, I will finish my talk with you after saying goodbye. However, what was your behavior? When I pointed out that it is you who first mentioned the girl's name, you hang out immediately without showing the deficient respect. Will a gentleman behave like that?

You also publicized a student's letter to you without her permission; don't you think that's tort of her privacy and copyright, whatever the contents are? Is it a proper behavior of a gentleman who alleged having received several- month law course education?

3.You said we were manipulated, but it is groundless.

If there were someone manipulate us, then who do you thing he or she is? And what should be his/ her reasonable motivation? Have you ever thought of your own behavior? Why all, no, 99% as you mentioned, of your students are against you? We have many foreign teachers, including many authorities in social science that hold a PH.D diploma, and we get along well with them (only except you), we show our welcome to all the foreigners (including you) and they (except you) show their respect to us and our different ideas. And we also hoped to get along well with you, but we finally gave up after we have tried our best several times till we exhausted. Not only your students, but also the working stuff at the Exchange Center, even some waitress at the restaurants you had been to, are not satisfied with you. Do you think there must be some fault of yourself, when you are always trying to point out others' mistakes?

4.We don't want to be your enemy, here I just want to give you some suggestions to help you get along well with others. But to take it or not is up to you.

a. Show your respect to others if you want others' respect

b. Exam yourself first while you are trying to point out others' mistakes.

c. Try to accept common people' norms and standard in action and morality when most people are not satisfied with you. If you believe they are all "silly" or "crazy", just leave them alone and keep distance with them.

If you believe you are wrong, correct your mistake without notifying me. If you believe I'm unreasonable, leave me alone and don't interrupt me any more. If you had a third idea, don't tell me since I'm not interested in it and tired of arguing with you any more! Considering you are "a perfect gentleman", forgive me if you think I'm not polite or aggressive.


This email appeared to be addressed to myself only (see header). But a good friend of mine among the students who'd attended my volunteer dinner mentioned that she'd received it too.

I omitted to mention earlier -- sorry, Reader -- that on my email correspondence with Summer (the girl who liked food more than phone calls) reproduced above, I c.c.'ed not only the dinner volunteers but also Summer's 5 roommates, since they were apparently involved in the complaints about my phone call to Summer. (Deriving roommates from my database was easy based on phone number.)

Alicia was one of Summer's roommates, and I guessed what she'd done. She'd blind-c.c.'ed the same list.

One reply to Alicia sufficed to scotch my correspondence with her:


From: Uriel
To: Alicia
Cc: [dinner participants and roommates]
Sent: Thursday, November 14, 2002 10:36 PM
Subject: Re: To " gentleman"

Alicia,

You are the person I was referring to when I wrote, in my letter to deans Jiang Guo Qing and Zhou Qi Peng, about "how indifferent some of the students are to the possibility that accusations they make about a teacher are baseless."

You make unfounded accusations against an innocent target -- and then you get angry when your accusations turn out to be completely false. Your thinking is: "If I'm wrong, I don't want to know it."

And here again, in your latest message, we see the same way of thinking at the conclusion of your long heap of insults: "If you believe I'm unreasonable, leave me alone and don't interrupt me any more."

In other words: "My heart is full of hate. And I need to keep on hating you."

Why do you have this need? Because if you admit you don't have reason to hate me you might have to look at the true reasons for your hate.

What might those true reasons be? I don't know you well, of course. But having met your boyfriend -- a charmless grad student of law who can't cope with elementary logic -- it's not hard to guess.

This message you've sent me, with all its abuse, appeared to be directed to me only. But I've learned from other students that you sent it to them also. So it seems like you used BCC (blind carbon-copy) so that others would see only your criticisms and not my response.

That's simply dishonest and dishonorable. And it shows that even you don't have confidence in the truth of your own accusations.

You too need to reflect on yourself.

I'm going to guess that you BCC'ed the same people who were receiving the correspondence with Summer, so I'm going to CC them openly. You may not like that, but it's time you grew up and took responsibility for your own bad behavior and its consequences.

Sincerely,

Uriel


41. Appeals to Presidents

Sent: Saturday, February 08, 2003 3:56 PM

November 13 (continued).

There persisted the little matter of an outstanding death threat. I'd received and reported it to the administration on Nov. 11, and it appeared they were doing nothing about it whatsoever (apart from Rebecca's one ineffectual phone call to somewhere deep in the bowels of the Beijing police bureaucracy). No statement of support; no investigation; no added security. One could get the impression that the people in charge at China's school of diplomacy were capable of reflecting on the possible advantages of a death threat to an inconvenient faculty member.

My open letter had indicated I'd be writing to the FAC president, and that's what I did two days later. I hand-delivered the following letter to the appropriate FAC office:


Wednesday, November 13, 2002

Ambassador Yang Fuchang
President
Foreign Affairs College
Beijing

Dear Ambassador Yang Fuchang,

I regret the need to approach you directly but there is a serious matter which is being inadequately handled by the FAC administration.

I'm a Canadian, and I was invited by FAC last spring to teach English here for one year. I've been doing so since September.

My teaching was going well until recently, when numerous unreasonable allegations about me suddenly began circulating amongst the students. This soon led to a meeting with Wang Yan, Director of the Foreign Affairs Office. The meeting, held Nov. 5, marked the first time my performance has been criticized by the FAC administration. In the course of the meeting, Ms. Wang repeatedly and emphatically threatened to terminate my employment (despite a contract which lasts until July, 2003).

The atmosphere of passionate resentment amongst the students has also led to a death threat, which is the reason for this letter. When I received this threat in the mail, on Monday, I immediately brought it to the attention of the Foreign Affairs Office, requesting that they notify Beijing police and treat the matter seriously.

On a second visit to the Foreign Affairs Office a few hours later, I encountered Ms. Wang. Ms. Wang's comments and behavior suggested to me that she is not adequately concerned about this matter. At one point she declared that it is "not our business."

I returned to the office for a third time the next day (Tuesday) and learned that, 24 hours after my initial report, the police had not even visited the campus yet, and the death threat letter was still in the office's possession.

It has now been two days since I gave the threatening letter to the office, and I have received no word that it is being actively investigated or that any measures whatsoever have been taken to protect my safety.

It would be regrettable if a teacher at China's school of diplomacy were driven out by threats of student violence, but that is what will happen unless FAC shows more concern than it has to date. I appeal to you for your support.

What I would hope for from FAC, in the wake of this outrageous and embarrassing threat against a teacher's life, would be:

- an aggressive effort to insist that the police conduct a thorough investigation;

- a public statement from an FAC representative expressing the school's abhorrence for this mode of protesting about a teacher, and guaranteeing that all necessary measures will be taken to ensure my safety.

I enclose my Nov. 11 letter to deans Jiang Guo Qing and Zhou Qi Peng, responding to complaints that were directed to them, for your background information. Please do not hesitate to contact me in case I can provide further information.

Sincerely,

Uriel Wittenberg
uw@urielw.com
6832 3200 ext. 8703


*   *   *

Thursday, November 14.

Are you ready for my next class? So was I! I got up early, had breakfast, and headed out for my 8:00 AM Law class. But ... what was this? Was I in the wrong room? Not a soul was present.

I did not bother double-checking the room number.

Again again, that appalling unanimity! I retrieved an earlier email -- only a trivial edit was needed -- and dispatched it to a new set of recipients:


From: "Uriel Wittenberg"
Sent: Thursday, November 14, 2002 8:07 AM
Subject: courtesy

Dear TH8 Students,

I am once again dazzled by the uniformity of your actions.

It's OK with me if you wish to skip my class, but it would have been more courteous if one of you had told me; then I wouldn't have had to bother going to the empty classroom for nothing.

Cheers,

Uriel


A short time later I went and gave my 10 AM class to the ever-appreciative Continuing Education students. Before parting at the end of class, I briefly described the article we'd discuss the following week:


The Greatest Newspaper Article in History
By Donald E. Wilkes, Jr., Professor of Law, University of Georgia, Athens, GA
Flagpole Magazine, February 11, 1998

[Excerpts follow; full text at
http://www.law.uga.edu/academics/profiles/dwilkes_more/his9_jaccuse.html.]

Last month marked the centennial anniversary of the greatest newspaper article of all time. Strangely, the American print and broadcast media barely mentioned the article or its importance or the astonishing story surrounding it.

The article, by Emile Zola, the great French novelist, appeared in a Paris literary newspaper, L'Aurore (The Dawn) on Thursday, Jan. 13, 1898, "an essential date in the history of journalism," according to historian Jean-Denis Bredin. Written in the form of an open letter to the President of France, the 4,000 word article, entitled J'Accuse! (I Accuse!), rightly has been judged a "masterpiece" of polemics and a literary achievement "of imperishable beauty." No other newspaper article has ever provoked such public debate and controversy or had such an impact on law, justice, and society.

The appearance of Zola's article was the greatest day of the Dreyfus Affair, which tormented France for twelve years. The Affair, "one of the great commotions of history," in the words of historian Barbara W. Tuchman, arose out of the 1894 arrest and conviction for treason of Capt. Alfred Dreyfus, a Jewish artillery officer in the French army. Dreyfus, who was completely innocent, received an unfair trial at his court martial; the prosecution's case had no substance, and the conviction was based on false, supposedly incriminating documents, not introduced into evidence or disclosed to Dreyfus, which were secretly delivered to the trial judges after they had retired to consider their verdict. Dreyfus was sentenced to life imprisonment and expelled from the army. He was incarcerated off the coast of South America on Devil's Island from 1895 until 1899.

The J'Accuse! article was an instant sensation, electrifying France and stimulating a gradual but inexorable shift in public opinion in favor of Dreyfus. It also brought the Dreyfus case worldwide attention; a respected writer of international renown had accused the French military of enormous wrongs. From then on, the entire civilized world marveled at the French spectacle, with very few people outside France believing that Dreyfus was guilty.

Less than three weeks after his article was published Zola was put on trial on a charge of criminal libel. The accusatory instrument filed by prosecutors focused on only one sentence of Zola's article, wherein he had asserted that the tribunal that found Esterhazy not guilty had known he was guilty and had acquitted him on command. The charges plainly were an attempt by the government, spurred on by the military, to silence a heroic man who was bravely laboring to undo a hideous miscarriage of justice. As the amazed London Times noted: "Zola's true crime has been in daring to rise to defend the truth and civil liberty ... [and] for that courageous defense of the primordial rights of the citizen, he will be honored wherever men have souls that are free ..."

Hundreds of reporters from all over the world covered Zola's criminal trial, which lasted two weeks and occurred in a circus-like atmosphere. The trial judges treated Zola and his attorney shabbily; confusion, disorder, and even fistfights reigned supreme in the courtroom; howling crowds jeered Zola in court and tried to attack him as he left the courthouse under police protection; and at night antisemitic mobs carrying signs saying "Death to Zola" or "Down with the Jews" would smash the windows of Jewish-owned shops in Paris.

Dreyfus's 1899 retrial, also covered by numerous reporters and watched by the whole Western World, resulted, absurdly, in Dreyfus being reconvicted. Dreyfus was, however, quickly pardoned and released from custody. In 1906 Dreyfus's 1899 conviction was reversed by the highest court in France and he was formally adjudged innocent, whereupon he was reinstated in the army, promoted, and awarded the Legion of Honor. None of the coverup conspirators was ever criminally punished.


I assigned this article to be read prior to our next class. Unfortunately, that class never took place, since I was fired before another week had elapsed.

42. Feeling (Partially) Neglected

Sent: Saturday, February 08, 2003 8:54 PM

As Friday, November 15 rolled around, I became conscious of a sensation of being neglected. Neither of the Law and Diplomacy deans, nor anyone else in the FAC admin, appeared to have paid the least attention to my open letter of the previous Monday. Nor had anyone who mattered, power-wise, breathed a whisper of acknowledgement of my letter of Wednesday to the FAC president.

The solution was plain. Yes, you understand my thinking now. I had to write another letter!

But this one would be different from all its failed predecessors. It would maximize flexibility by being addressed "To Whom It May Concern." So it would be clear to everyone that I was reserving the option of standing on busy street corners thrusting copies at passersby. (Is that legal here?)


------------------------
TO:

The Administration
Foreign Affairs College
Beijing
------------------------

Friday, November 15, 2002

To Whom It May Concern:

As you may have heard by now, I received a written death threat on Nov. 11, apparently from a student.

It has been four days since I turned the letter over to the Foreign Affairs Office, requesting that they contact Beijing police and treat the matter seriously. Incredibly, I have yet to receive any indication that this matter is being investigated. Moreover, to my knowledge, the FAC administration has voiced no support for me or condemnation of the student(s) guilty of making a death threat against a teacher.

I recently received abrupt news of the administration's displeasure with my teaching. My performance was questioned for the first time in a meeting with Ms. Wang Yan on Nov. 5. In the same meeting, Ms. Wang repeatedly and emphatically threatened to terminate my employment (despite a contract which lasts until July, 2003).

Ms. Wang's criticism was based entirely on recently received student complaints. The complaints are the result of an emotional campaign which flared very suddenly around Nov. 1. The complaints are nonsensical and do not survive serious scrutiny (I responded in detail to several of the complaints in a Nov. 11 letter to deans Jiang Guo Qing and Zhou Qi Peng), but the administration has shown no interest in evaluating the complaints. A Nov. 11 letter from Ms. Wang (written shortly after we discovered the death threat) complains that "the students' dissatisfaction with your teaching and your attitudes towards the students" persists, and threatens again that "if the situation does not improve within next three weeks the school will terminate our contract with you."

Student misbehavior and delinquency have become increasingly extreme. Rudeness and overt disrespect on the part of students in the classroom have become commonplace. A Foreign Affairs student departed from a classroom, shouting at me to "Fuck off!" as he left. All his classmates followed. The Law students I teach unanimously decided not to come to class on Wednesday and Thursday mornings (without informing me).

Considering the apparent indifference of the administration to the increasing delinquency I have been witnessing, and even to a death threat, it is beginning to seem as if the students have been set free to run wild to accomplish Ms. Wang's goal of terminating my contract.

Irrespective of FAC's wishes with regard to my continuing employment, I would suggest we meet to discuss how to resolve the situation in a more civilized manner.

Sincerely,

Uriel Wittenberg
uw@urielw.com
6832 3200 ext. 8703


I wish I could lend a more human aspect to the administration's thought processes at this time. I know, no one is going to be pleading for movie rights for this thriller without a human dimension. What was going on behind the closed doors? Panic? Tooth-gnashing? Chortling?

All I have is an opaque void: silence, and a complete ... well, I'm hardly catering to stereotypes, but the term "inscrutability" is practically unavoidable here, isn't it?

But we can conjecture that all the FAC potentates were studiously looking in any direction other than mine. For purposes of visualization, it may help to recall Otto and his cellphone.

*   *   *

But I was not completely neglected. I was grateful for supportive messages I did receive in response to my open letter to the deans. They mostly came from former students and others outside FAC, but one of my FAC night students (not previously quoted) sent this:


Sent: Thursday, November 14, 2002 3:22 PM
Subject: letter

Dear Uriel:

I read your letter given to Dean of FAC very carefully this morning.

I feel shocked when I read it.I can't understand why some students bear so much hatred to you that made a death threat to you.
It is unbelievable and unacceptable!

I don't think sb can hurt you easily.because nobody really wants to break the law.It is a serious crime.

I am sure you will be safy in China.

I can't inmagin why the student was so bad-behaved.

As an old saying goes something to the effect that being a teacher a day for you, being your father for ever. that means one should respect his teachers all his life just as respect his father.and we have been educated in that way since we were born.

I believe my eyes, my mind and my judgement,no matter what they say or do. I trust you. I still think you are very kind, intelligent and smart.although sometimes we felt nervous in your class.we do learn a lot in your class by working hard.

No matter what happen, leaving FAC or leaving China.

I will treat you as my friend all my life.

I will show my respect to you all my life.

Hope you safe and happy!

yours

...


43. My Western Colleagues

Sent: Sunday, February 09, 2003 6:29 PM

You may well be wondering: if the FAC admin was being "inscrutable," and oblivious to the clear Western values at stake, what about my Western colleagues? Folks from the West should understand the basics of decency and good sense. What if the Western faculty got together and discreetly intimated to the administration that there was such a thing as solidarity? That we weren't so dumb as to let them pick us off one by one?

What if it was put to them that the departure of the Western teachers en masse might be an embarrassing thing?

How about a little arm-twisting -- a press conference, a march, perhaps a sit-in at the president's office, to publicize my ... our cause?

[Jaded laughter offstage.]

Did I suck anyone in?

Let me try to render the tacit attitude of a good number of my colleagues. I hope I don't do them injustice, but my sense was that they would just be grateful if they weren't seized in the middle of the night by a quartet of stone-faced Chinese army officers and summarily whisked off for interrogation somewhere.

This is Communist China, you idiot!

Most appeared to take it for granted that nobody around here was even going to pretend there was such a thing as fair process. The attitude is suggested by these emails from one of them:


To: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Sunday, December 22, 2002 10:37 PM
Subject: Re: Invoking arbitration clause of Foreign Expert contract

Uriel,

Hi, hope you are doing well and sorry for the delay in responding to your e-mail.

In any case, if you ever want to return to China (be it as a toursit or a teacher) it's my opinion that you should really cut your losses with respect to the issue at hand.

You may have a technically defensible case but i would agree [with others] that it is in your interests to let the issue rest if you ever want to return to China (be it as a tourist or as a teacher).

regards, ...

--------------------------------------------------

To: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Monday, December 23, 2002 11:17 PM
Subject: Re: Invoking arbitration clause of Foreign Expert contract

uriel,

if you are asking if i have heard anything on the issue of your "case," then i have not.

More generally, if you feel that you are the one to take on the chinese system then all the best. I do not think that that option is advisable.

cheers, ...


But let me introduce my fellow teachers from the West at FAC. They constituted 9 individual or family households:

1. Bill & Margaret, both about 65, from New Jersey, participants in the Mormon Church's "China Teachers Program"

2. David & Doris, both about 55, also participants in the Mormon Church's "China Teachers Program"

3. Chryle (female), about 30.

4. Don, about 28.

5. Gordon, about 70.

6. Jeff and Janet, about 42, with two daughters, aged 5 and 8.

7. Jim, about 22, a participant in the "Princeton China program"

8. Adam -- same as Jim.

9. Nick and Karen, about 30, with a daughter, about 3.

All were American, I believe, except Nick and Karen, who were from Singapore but had been living in New York. And all, I believe, were living in China for the first time except Don, who was in his second year, and Gordon, who was in his fourth.

We were all familiar with each other by virtue of being housed in the same building and frequently running into each other. (By contrast, I rarely had even brief encounters with any Chinese colleagues other than the staff of the Foreign Affairs Office.)

I had friendly relations with all of them but little involvement. The friends I spent time with were mostly my current and former Chinese students, and people unconnected with the school whom I knew via squash.

The colleague I was closest to was Nick, who was completing a Ph.D. in political science at Columbia University in New York. I also had regular exchanges with Jeff, though they were mostly brief emails. Jeff was Associate Professor in the Department of Government and Foreign Affairs at the University of Virginia, at FAC for the academic year as a Fulbright Scholar.

Once I'd received a death threat, I felt I'd be remiss not to inform my fellow Westerners. I sent them all a short email describing the situation and pointing to my open letter in case they wanted fuller information.

I didn't harbor illusions about office sit-ins, but I also sent the following, separately, to Jeff and Nick:


Sent: Tuesday, November 12, 2002 12:53 PM
Subject: support

Dear Jeff and Nick,

I think as intellectuals you are both likely to understand the principles involved here more than most of our colleagues. There are some very basic values at stake here, and I would like to appeal to you both for some kind of public support.

Regards,


There was little reaction from most of my colleagues. Some, as I say, seemed to feel they were on a dangerous trek through jungle where cannibals roamed. If there were poison darts whistling through the air, it didn't surprise them. They just wanted to keep their own heads low.

I continued running into these colleagues and exchanging brief pleasantries just as before. Most never acknowledged or made any reference to the situation I'd described.

Apart from Jeff and Nick and their wives, I believe exactly two made any allusion at all to the situation.

Gordon, one day when we were talking on the phone for other reasons, mentioned in an aggrieved tone that he really didn't think my open letter was a good idea.

Really. "Why not?" I asked.

We agreed to walk together to the post office the next morning and discuss it then. But later he cancelled -- and we never did discuss it.

Another of my colleagues stopped me, when we ran into each other one day, to talk about the situation and offer his sympathy and good wishes; but it was clear that little that could happen in this country would surprise him.

Nick and his wife were supportive, but I realized as soon as I reflected a bit that he was in a tough spot. He was here primarily to do doctoral research (on Chinese alliances during the Cold War), and he depended on the favor of school officials and others for access to people he wanted to interview. As a Ph.D. student he had no power, no influence, nothing.

Hadn't I been in those shoes myself? I well remember my advisor's weary effort to enlighten me during my own Ph.D. studies (in public policy) many years ago: "Uriel, you are a supplicant in all your relations to the university." (Small wonder I finally abandoned the program.)

So Nick was not looking for ways to make himself annoying. He didn't offer to raise the matter with any FAC people and I didn't press him.

Jeff was another matter altogether ....

44. The Fulbright Scholar

Sent: Sunday, February 09, 2003 9:47 PM


The Fulbright Program, the U.S. government's flagship program in international educational exchange, was proposed to the U.S. Congress in 1945 by then freshman Senator J. William Fulbright of Arkansas. In the aftermath of World War II, Senator Fulbright viewed the proposed program as a much-needed vehicle for promoting "mutual understanding between the people of the United States and the people of other countries of the world." His vision was approved by Congress and the program signed into law by President Truman in 1946.

Fulbright grants are made to U.S. citizens and nationals of other countries for a variety of educational activities, primarily university lecturing, advanced research, graduate study and teaching in elementary and secondary schools. Since the program's inception, more than 250,000
participants --chosen for their leadership potential-- have had the opportunity to observe each other's political, economic and cultural institutions.

Of these participants, 42,200 have been overseas academics and professionals who have conducted research or taught in U.S. universities as Fulbright Visiting Scholars, and more than 40,100 U.S. faculty and professionals who have engaged in similar activities abroad.

The Fulbright Program is sponsored by the United States Department of State, Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs. The primary source of funding is an annual appropriation made by the United States Congress to the Department of State. The Congressional appropriation for the Fulbright Program in fiscal year 2001 was $118.7 million.

The Fulbright Program encompasses a variety of exchange programs including the U.S. Fulbright Scholar Program, [which] sends 800 scholars and professionals each year to more than 140 countries, where they lecture or conduct research in a wide variety of academic and professional fields.

[Excerpted from http://www.cies.org/about_fulb.htm]


As a genuine professor (at the University of Virginia) and a Fulbright Scholar, Jeff's status was unique, and I'd guess that FAC would have listened very seriously to any protest he registered.

He replied to my email requesting support as follows:


Sent: Wednesday, November 13, 2002 10:16 PM
Subject: Re: support

Uriel,
I just got back from being out of town. Sorry to hear about this turn of events. It looks like a nightmare. Let's talk tomorrow. I'll look for you. Best, Jeff


He visited my apartment in the afternoon of Nov. 14. He was noncommittal about the validity of the students' complaints. But the process, he said, was "crazy."

"Students can't decide these things," he said, shaking his head. A university administration had to support a teacher before the students, and deal with any complaints independently.

What could he do for me?

"Well, I can talk to the IR guy," he said. He was involved in work of some kind with Dr. Qing Yaqing, an International Relations scholar and a senior administrator at FAC. Dr. Qing was also significant enough in the Communist Party, apparently, to be one of only six people representing China's Foreign Ministry at the recent Party Congress.

OK, Jeff would talk to Dr. Qing. I left it at that.

We discussed the death threat. "Do you want to see it?" I offered.

"Sure ...."

I fetched it and showed it to him.

"Yeah," he said as he read it, "this should be taken seriously."

He added: "It looks bad that there's been no action from the administration. They've gotta know about it."

He also looked at Wang Yan's letter of Nov. 11. He advised, in view of the letter and the fact that students weren't even coming to class, that what I had to do was write to the administration and show I wanted to improve the situation.

I met his wife Janet the next day outside our building.

"How are you holding up? she asked. "We'd be scared out of our minds. Jeff and I have talked a lot about this. Just know that you have two people thinking about you."

The comment was somewhat ambiguous, but offered good-naturedly.

A week later I called Jeff -- I'd been fired in the interim -- and asked if he'd spoken to Dr. Qing. No, he said. He had spoken to Wang Yan.

"Frankly," he said, "my talking to Dr. Qing is not going to make any difference at this point."

Had he learned anything interesting in his talk with Wang Yan -- e.g. the school's rationale for its actions and omissions? If so, he didn't reveal it to me.

But Jeff did undertake one definite action as a direct result of the events involving me. He didn't mention it to me, but I learned of it from a friend who was a student in the "Explaining American Foreign Policy" course that he taught to Master's students.

In the 8 AM class the morning after he'd seen the death threat in my apartment, he distributed a questionnaire to the students. Were they satisfied with the course? it asked. What changes, if any, did they want to see?

45. The Last Class

Sent: Monday, February 10, 2003 12:42 PM

Friday, November 15 (continued).

I'd written three increasingly insistent letters to the administration that week -- Monday, Wednesday, and earlier that same Friday. My latest letter wondered, provocatively I hoped, whether the students had been "set free to run wild to accomplish Ms. Wang's goal of terminating my contract."

Now my answering machine held the school's first response. A voice message from Rebecca informed me that the college had met with the students and asked them about the death threat, but that no one had admitted writing it; that the college had criticized the students for the threat; and that the college had also criticized the students for not going to my class.

In addition, the message stated, "the authority of the college" would be talking to me the following week.

Well! It looked like the administration's neglect might be coming to an end.

I would shortly learn that neglect has certain advantages.

I'd been told by this time that the real boss at FAC was someone whose name wasn't even mentioned on the hopelessly outdated FAC website (at least, not on the English version). The real boss wasn't the FAC president, who was a figurehead, but Assistant President Heng Xiaojun -- Wang Yan's direct superior. I had delivered a copy of my latest letter to his office earlier that day. He turned out to be what "the authority of the college" signified.

I'd actually seen him on an earlier occasion -- the orientation meeting held August 30 for newly arrived Western faculty, during which he'd addressed us at some length.

In introducing himself, he had told us that he'd spent one year at the University of Exeter; four years in New York City working for the Chinese Embassy; three hours in Canada (with a nod to me) to see Niagara Falls; and one hour (nod to Nick) in the Singapore airport.

He'd given us some advice about adhering to the Chinese Constitution: we should not preach religion; we should avoid classroom disputes with students on political topics like Taiwan; and we should not become overly intimate with students. On that last point, he told us with a pained expression that there had been some unpleasantness in the past, when relationships had broken up -- some participants had gotten angry.

He had a kind of preppy boy air. His manner and nasal voice projected earnestness, and with the glasses he wore he looked like Harry Potter in the movie promo posters.

I would meet him again on the Monday following Rebecca's message, with the outcome that Wang Yan had foretold -- so long ago, it seems, but in fact only 10 days earlier.

But first ... my Monday Diplomats!

*   *   *

Monday, November 18, 10 AM.

My students came to class -- which by this point was beginning to seem like an accomplishment. Li ("Fuck off!") Ming, however, was absent.

I asked the class: "Who in the administration is supporting or protecting bad behavior?"

No one, they told me.

How could Li Ming (Bright) tell a teacher to fuck off? Why wasn't he afraid of getting into trouble, I asked.

Jane said no one was protecting students. Li Ming had just been exceptionally angry.

Christina spoke up to correct me: "He didn't say 'Fuck off,' he said 'Fuck you.'"

She smiled at me good-humoredly.

Christina was a cool, pleasant girl I'd gone out with several times. I always liked her, and I was sure she'd never been taken in by the student folly. (At the same time, she had no inclination to be a hero and oppose it.) She was detached and seemingly amused by the wacky proceedings.

Sadly, however, the Monday Diplomat syndrome had infected her. Once when we were out together I interrupted myself and asked: "Are you listening to what I'm saying?"

She answered: "Sometimes people just want a chance to talk and express themselves."

"Well, good grief, I'm not interested in talking to myself. I'm trying to communicate with you."

"But it's so hard to listen so carefully and pay attention all the time ...."

Six years. It was inhumane. These kids should have been sent out into the real world sooner.

Back in the Monday class, various students began objecting to the topic. The familiar scene replayed itself, except that lunchtime wasn't even close. The class was only 20 minutes young. Ben was the Pied Piper again, leading the way as the others straggled behind.

As Christina was calmly putting away her things, I asked her to walk with me to the nearby post office to help with an errand. She agreed, and we took our last stroll together.

46. Charlotte Bronte, Patsy Cline and Me

Sent: Monday, February 10, 2003 8:40 PM

Monday, November 18 (continued).

We are poised to enter. Our collective foot is hovering, ready to consummate the final step that will bring us, finally, into that conference room. Assistant FAC President Heng Xiaojun sits there, invitingly, flanked by his coterie of silent lieutenants. His silly little process is mapped out. His six-minute speech is prepared. He awaits us.

But wait.

No, I'm sorry, but it's best we deal at this stage with any complaints you may have.

Are you satisfied with this narration? What changes do you want to see?

Are you remembering the admission price you paid to hear this story?

And tell me truly: did you at any time experience a feeling of empathy for anything Christina expressed?

I just don't think it's a good idea to leave discontentment unaired. Call it experience, life wisdom, whatever.

I feel bound to point out that there are respected antecedents for not dumping the beans all at once. I happen to be currently reading Charlotte Bronte's novel, "The Professor," in which the professor of the title speaks of the woman who runs the school where he teaches. Is it blind fate that brought me to the following passage -- just at the moment I might have brought you into that conference room?


[T]he sensible, sagacious, affable directress shone like a steady star over a marsh full of jack-o'-lanthorns. Profoundly aware of her superiority, she derived an inward bliss from that consciousness which sustained her under all the care and responsibility inseparable from her position; it kept her temper calm, her brow smooth, her manner tranquil. She liked -- as who would not? -- on entering the schoolroom, to feel that her sole presence sufficed to diffuse that order and quiet which all the remonstrances, and even commands, of her underlings frequently failed to enforce. The various masters who attended her school were each and all in some way or other under her influence. Over one she had acquired power by her skilful management of his bad temper; over another by little attentions to his petty caprices; a third she had subdued by flattery; a fourth -- a timid man -- she kept in awe by a sort of austere decision of mien; me she still watched, still tried by the most ingenious tests. She roved round me, baffled yet persevering, I believe she thought I was like a smooth and bare precipice, which offered neither jutting stone nor tree-root nor tuft of grass to aid the climber. Now she flattered with exquisite tact; now she moralized; now she tried how far I was accessible to mercenary motives; then she disported on the brink of affection, knowing that some men are won by weakness; anon, she talked excellent sense, aware that others have the folly to admire judgment. I found it at once pleasant and easy to evade all these efforts. It was sweet, when she thought me nearly won, to turn round and to smile in her very eyes, half scornfully, and then to witness her scarcely veiled though mute mortification. Still she persevered, and at last, I am bound to confess it, her finger, essaying, proving every atom of the casket, touched its secret spring, and for a moment the lid sprang open. She laid her hand on the jewel within. Whether she stole and broke it, or whether the lid shut again with a snap on her fingers, read on, and you shall know.

The tragedy in my own case is that any suspense that may have existed has been steadily dissipating for really quite some time now. There's probably scarcely any left. But I fear you would disapprove any move to abandon this effort and start from scratch with a whole new narration.

So let me plod onwards. I never pretended to be Charlotte Bronte.

Of course, you know there was no question of love between me and Heng Xiaojun, so the comparison is inappropriate anyway. But funnily enough, my meeting with him inspired me to quote a song whose theme is love, in the parting message I sent that night to all my students:


From: Uriel
Sent: Monday, November 18, 2002 7:31 PM
Subject: Leavin'

If you got leavin' on your mind
Tell me now, get it over
Hurt me now, get it over
If you got leavin' on your mind

If there's a new love in your heart
Tell me now, get it over
Hurt me now, get it over
If there's a new love in your heart

Don't leave me here, in a world
Filled with dreams that might have been
Hurt me now, get it over
I may learn to love again

If there's a new love in your heart
Tell me now, get it over
Hurt me now, get it over
If there's a new love in your heart

Hurt me now, get it over
If there's a new love in your heart

----------------

"Leavin' On Your Mind," written by Wayne Walker and Webb Pierce (As released by Patsy Cline January 7, 1963)

----------------

Dear FAC Students,

FAC told me now -- today -- and my teaching here is over.

This is probably not the result intended by some of you. But actions have consequences, and when ALL students in the four classes I was teaching to Law and Diplomacy majors signed complaint letters about me (without, incidentally, letting me know that they were complaining about me), it initiated a process that would probably have to be resolved in one of the two following ways:

1. That I would debase myself by submitting to the ludicrous accusations made against me; or

2. That I would be fired.

Now #2 has happened, and I will suffer some inconvenience. But that's far preferable to #1. Moreover, #1 would have been a terrible lesson for you.

I had hoped for a possible #3: that FAC would consider my response to student complaints (http://urielw.com/fac/openlet.htm). But if they did consider it, it did not influence them very much.

I hope your educations will nonetheless be a success. Like the teacher who wrote "Schools With a Slant" [New York Times, August 21, 1999] (one of the readings covered in my TH10 class), I think education should be sacrosanct. I draw some consolation from the thought that the affair prompting my departure may provide some of your most useful lessons (especially if you signed).

You may keep in touch with me via my permanent email address, uw@urielw.com.

Regards,

Uriel


47. Corruption

Sent: Tuesday, February 11, 2003 6:04 PM

"I have half an hour available for this meeting. I propose that I take the first ten minutes to present the situation from the school's point of view. Then you can take the next ten minutes for your response. And then we can use the final ten minutes to search for a solution."

Heng Xiaojun's manner was reasonable, courteous.

It seemed kinda ... structured. Perhaps he was worried about a free-for-all. But ... ten, ten, ten ... ok, it seemed acceptable. I gave a friendly assent.

We were seated at the big oval conference table in the room beside the Foreign Affairs Office. Also present were Wang Yan, Otto and Rebecca.

Heng Xiaojun and I had the only speaking parts. Wang Yan, sitting right across from me and gazing at me with a faint smile, merely thought her thoughts. Otto was on my right wearing his usual expression of affable good humor, although when I spoke ill of him, I saw as we exchanged looks that it had become slightly strained. Heng Xiaojun sat between them, while Rebecca was off at the end of the table to my left, looking downcast.

Heng Xiaojun began:


Since the beginning of the semester we've been receiving many anonymous emails and phone calls from all over Beijing. But we didn't pay too much attention to that. But then the Foreign Affairs Office also received many complaints about you from International Law, Diplomacy, Continuing Education -- both students and administrators. There have been complaints about your caustic attitude towards students, and about the use of taboo words. There have also been complaints about inviting girls at improper times. The complaints from the Law and Diplomacy students were unanimous. Altogether, we have received complaints from three separate departments. This is an extremely unusual situation.

Our own observations have confirmed the problems. You dismissed a class 20 minutes early. And you have focussed class discussions on the complaints that students made in their letters to the administration.

As for the death threat: I read it. It's very hard to investigate. We don't know where it comes from -- was it a student, does it come from outside the school? But the message stipulates a condition: "if you persist."

We don't take this message seriously, because it is anonymous. But there are two conditions. If you continue, then they will do this.

There. I said I would speak for ten minutes, and it has in fact been [consulting the watch he'd laid before himself] about six minutes.


I'd taken notes as he was speaking, and I responded:


It sounds like your attitude is already formed. It would have been better to discuss matters with me earlier and allow me to contribute my input.

These anonymous emails -- who sent them? Disgruntled students? They could have been sent by anyone. They should not influence your attitude.

The unanimity of the students, as I pointed out in my open letter to the deans, is not genuine. They were pressured to sign the letters.

"Taboo words": Really, in English there are no taboo words. But if it's a problem it's easy enough to tell me so and I can stop. No one ever did.

And these allegations of "improper invitations" to girls -- I've been talking about these with students and really, they are complete nonsense. [I describe the circumstances surrounding Summer's invitation to the group dinner.] The behavior we have here on the part of certain students is hypocrisy, villainy -- something reminiscent of Shakespeare's evil Iago character.

You mention you have complaints from three departments. But I spoke to Tong Xin recently [the Vice Director of the night program] and she really is not concerned about my performance at all.

You said your own observations have confirmed the problems, but the two examples you cite are not very convincing. Dismissing a class twenty minutes early? Is that such a terrible thing? One class, once in the entire semester -- and it was because the students were refusing to say anything. We had complete silence in the classroom.

Regarding this point, I would like to add -- I return from class 20 minutes early and Otto seems surprised to see me -- he seems to have my schedule memorized. That is my residence. I expect a little privacy. I don't appreciate being spied on where I live!

With regard to the death threat .... Well, I hardly know what to say here. "There's a condition"?! What does that mean? Are you defending this?


I paused for a response.

"Are you finished?" he asked.

How like Wang Yan. His thoughts were riveted to the 10-10-10 agenda he'd constructed in advance of the meeting. He probably hadn't been listening, and was startled by an unexpected question. He was like my inattentive students in the classroom.

The thinking, I imagine, was: "Foreigners like to talk -- free speech and all that. Fine, we'll let him talk."

And the further, mirthless reflection: "Why not let him talk? It's free."

But I replied to the question he'd voiced: "I'm waiting for an answer."

"Please go on," he said, "we'll talk about solutions afterwards."

I complied:


The death threat absolutely should be taken seriously. I assume the threat itself is illegal in China. I want a police investigation -- even if it's embarrassing for the school. And I want a letter from the school assuring me I'm safe.

I must say I have also been struck by the flippant attitude of the school towards our contract. We have made a mutual commitment til July, 2003. But the contract seems to mean nothing to the school.


"Are you finished?" asked Heng Xiaojun.

Yes, I said.

No doubt he felt joy as he drew a marker under stage two in his inward delineation of the meeting agenda, marvelling anew at the beauty of its 10-10-10 structure.

And now it was time to transition to Stage 3 and "search for a solution."

Since I'm no Charlotte Bronte, plus the suspense must be killing you, let me put you out of your misery immediately and reveal that the solution was to fire me.

Stage 3 involved Heng Xiaojun coming back to life. He spoke again: "This is a very difficult situation for me -- the constant complaints. For you too, it's very difficult. So the best solution is your suggestion that you leave FAC."

"Wait a moment -- I didn't make that suggestion."

"No?"

Wang Yan was up. I was better than any tonic -- what I did for that woman's energy level was magic. Silently, efficiently, she gathered up papers and glided to Heng Xiaojun's side to draw his attention to the critical words from my open letter of Nov. 11. He read them out:

"you will not have to worry about any more complaints about me -- because I will leave FAC."

At least, I am guessing that that is what he read out. I forget, and my notes don't record it. The relevant passage from my letter is:


If I am not assured, publicly, by a senior official of FAC, that the threat against me will be aggressively investigated and that FAC will guarantee my physical security, then you will not have to worry about any more complaints about me -- because I will leave FAC.

We revolved about this point a bit.

"I haven't quit," I told him. "Perhaps you're firing me."

But that was such an unpleasant way to put it. Anyway, yes, my employment would end as of now.

"Well, I can accept it if you wish to end my teaching duties," I said. "But we may still be able to negotiate an agreeable solution. There are two forms of compensation I've been getting: the salary, and the apartment ...."

"You can stay in your apartment for one or two more weeks. Your salary will be paid til the end of November."

"One or two weeks? This is not very civilized. You're throwing me out on the street?"

"No," he protested, "but it's a problem, if you're living on campus, meeting the students, it's a problem for you and a problem for us."

"So put me up in an alternate location," I told him. "What am I supposed to do, get a hotel?"

"That's not our problem," he said.

"It is your problem," I told him brusquely, getting up from my seat. "We have a contract."

I moved to the door.

"But you violated the terms. That's what I explained for ten minutes."

I turned and glared at him. "Tell me what I violated. You're like the students -- you say I did something wrong but can't say what."

Perhaps he responded to that with some blablabla. I don't remember.

I'd reached the door. Now the dilemma: "fuck off" or "fuck you"?

Readers, I am astonished at your opinion of me. This whole gargantuan defense I've built seems to have left no impression of any kind.

I surveyed the assembled personages. "I'm not impressed," I announced to them. And I walked out.

That night, one of my Diplomacy students (not previously referred to in this story) saw me outside my apartment building and approached. He supported me, he told me, and he regretted .... He'd had to sign the complaint letter too, because of pressure.

"This is a corrupt country," he said. "That's why I want to go abroad."

48. Shriek Cessation

Sent: Wednesday, February 12, 2003 6:09 PM

The apartments we foreign teachers lived in, modern though the building was, had some striking deficiencies. The height of the bathroom's shower head, though ideal for midgets, required anyone else to crouch awkwardly to wash his face. The kitchen lacked any simple fixture for hanging a dish towel. And the dining room table and its four chairs, whenever moved slightly, produced an unholy shriek.

Soon after my arrival, I arranged to have the kitchen and bathroom problems fixed. With my new shower fixture, I was the sole non-croucher in the building. I joked to Otto's feckless assistant Benjamin that when I departed, they could charge higher rates for the "Uriel suite." (I didn't realize then how imminent that was.)

I would have liberally shared my upgrade solutions with colleagues. But as building manager, Otto was very nervous about alterations. So I kept quiet in exchange for his authorization of my own unit's upgrades.

The shrieking was another matter, however, since my problem mostly emanated from neighbors, particularly above me. The whole building had to be fixed.

I conducted some careful research into the shrieking issue. Our coffee table did not shriek. Why did the dining chairs shriek?

I examined the hard little plastic pads which made contact with the floor, attached under each leg. The pads for the chairs and for the coffee table looked similar. Was the difference caused by the lightness of the chairs? This was the theory confidently put forth by the trio of building staff who came to my apartment to look into the affair.

I'd already rejected any such hypothesis through my own experimentation. As has been previously documented, however, mere words do not suffice to disabuse people of false ideas. So I sat on one of the chairs, raised my feet, and directed a staff member to move the chair with me on it.

A shriek ensued (from the chair). Hadn't I known it would?

"The coffee table has good pads, the table and chairs have bad pads," I explained to the discomfited staff. They'd resisted this insight because of its corollary, which I also presented: "You gotta get more good pads and replace the bad pads."

Was this my oft-criticized propensity to criticize manifesting itself? No, I just didn't want to live with shrieks for a whole year, when little more than a bit of thinking could solve the problem.

Certainly others were likewise bothered by the frightful noise. My colleague Margaret had independently sought a solution by using sticky pads she bought somewhere. She gave me some but they didn't work well because they would quickly detach.

Benjamin promised he'd get the problem fixed for all our apartments. Then, over the next several weeks, he offered a prodigious quantity of excuses for failing to do so. Once, when I got mad, he came and made a solemn, heartfelt apology to me, and swore it'd be done by date X. Then on date X, and subsequently, there were more excuses.

I had a talk with Otto about his assistant on Oct. 22, a day I got truly fed up. Otto went so far as to concede that Benjamin was a "rookie." But he had one redeeming virtue, which Otto emphasized repeatedly: "he's really a very nice guy."

By the way, guess what Benjamin's educational qualifications were.

Hint: recall that he was good at failing.

Correct. Benjamin was a recent graduate of the FAC Diplomacy program.

Upon graduation from Diplomacy, Benjamin was passed over by the Foreign Ministry. I guess he was too nice a guy.

A pale Benjamin finally did the job he'd promised at the building -- shortly after I nearly killed him. Workmen came to all our apartments in late October, removed the bad pads, and screwed in good pads. Total cost for pads for the building: maybe a couple of dollars. The difference it made? Trust me, it was like night and day.

Walking down the peaceful corridors afterwards, I reflected: I did this thing. Without me, those bad pads would still be here, now and for another ten years.

My colleagues would reap the benefits. Me, I had to leave, virtually on the heels of those workmen. After the damn meeting, I wasn't even sure how many days I had left before they tossed me out.

49. Dilemma

Sent: Friday, February 14, 2003 6:32 PM

"It's sad," you typed. "No wonder you put us through so much detouring and backtracking before the crash. Now that it's behind us, seems all you've got left to vent about is furniture. Anywhoooo .... I got a few other things to attend to now. I do get one or two other items hitting the inbox occasionally. Maybe you should forget teaching, maybe try freelancing for a furniture mag."

But you were too compassionate to send such a message. "After what the guy's been through! Although they had a point -- he talks none too clean."

But you hit CANCEL, and turned to your other no doubt highly important inbox items.

Although I'm touched by your tender concern ... forgive me, but does the phrase "gibbering functionaries" not ring a bell?

No, not more Chinese functionaries. Have you forgotten the Canadian Embassy?

And ... do you feel the Renee in the Park issue has been fully put to bed?

And did I not speak, long ago, of a certain rumbling force -- bigger, badder than Renee?

On second thought, scratch "badder."

I fooled you before with some dilemmas that weren't really dilemmas at all. (And I am NOT particularly foul-mouthed, for your information.) But now we're on the verge of something slightly dicey.

Let me try to explain without a lot of beating about the bush. I am on record as deriding relativism. To support their it's-best-not-to-think orientation, relativists sometimes invoke the Uncertainty (or Indeterminacy) Principle enunciated in 1927 by the prominent physicist, Werner Heisenberg.

There's an excessive amount of math there, and who can say what it all means exactly? Whatever -- a lot of smart people seem to think that if you try to observe something precisely, the process of observation changes what you're looking at. (I will grant that that is consistent with my China experiences.) Conclusion: you can't know anything, so save yourself the trouble.

Does the Principle truly lend legitimacy to the head-in-the-sand position beloved (and, typically, relied upon) by relativists? I have an inbox too and I haven't had time to totally verify just exactly what Heisenberg's work implies for our daily lives. You could say, haha, that I'm uncertain. But my strong guess would be: not.

That notwithstanding, I will confess that we are now nearing a juncture where a variant of the Principle may have some applicability. We may be approaching a point where reporting something -- I'm talking about my situation in China -- could affect that same something.

Is that clear?

Perhaps you would prefer a Chinese explanation from a former student of mine. She's very nice, possibly nicer than Benjamin. She wrote this after a phone call she made on my behalf:


To: "Wittenberg Uriel" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Tuesday, January 07, 2003 3:40 PM
Subject: arbite

Hi, my friend,

Just now I called the lady who you send email to, and she told me that you called her this morning and she gave the information about the phone number to you that you can connect to. and she explain something to me that you may don't understand. But she told me in Chinese, here I just translate it to you, you know my English is not good, so here I just say what I can translate, I wish you can understand it. By the way, may be my translating have some mistake, and some of them are Chinese way to think you may don't understand, so do not show this to other people and "quote" my words to others, if you want to quote this you'd better to ask somebody again about this, like Mr.Yang (XieYue introduce him to you, because she said his English much better and he can explain) when you ask somebody and make sure you understand you can quote their words. If you still have problem to understand my email you can ask me again, I'll try to explain to you, but I'm afraid because my English I couldn't say it clearly to you.

First, she told me when you called her, you were a little bit stirring and mood may not good, because she let you to connect to GaoPengFei. She explain to me that, GaopengFie is the highest one in the arbitration, and he controls the whole China's. But before you send the information to him first you should let BeiJing's arbitrater to accommodate ( or mediat ) you and the FAC first. So it's correct to connect to her, but because it's goverment's office, regulation between you and goverment you should have a intermediary to connect to each other, so she let you to connect another person Mr.Yang.

Second, She said you should connect to GaoPengFei, let because you just ask her about who should you to contact, so her told you you should contact GaoPengFei. And same the reason to email.

So, if you want to arbite you should do it in order, the order should like: first connect Mr.Yang, let he know what you want to do, then he translate it to Beijing's FAO office to XieYue, then the office will do something between you and your school to try to mediat it ( try to slove the problem between you and school). If it doesn't work you can connect to GaoPengFei, then it will like appellate by law( like in the court).

Third, she told me that now you and school's problem still belong to personal(private/personal affair), even you complain it to the arbite it's still personal affair. So, she told me don't make your problem like the whole social's problem, because they have seen what you put on the web and what you say, she said if you do something too excessive or make it not like personal affair anymore, the goverment have the right to refuse you to come to China again. Just because your problem is a personal affair with school so before they didn't do something to refuse to come China again. Also they have the right to expel you (or drive you away) from China.

I think her mean is you can complain about school to the office, and they will not be partial to everyone, so they may give you a better solution about this affair. But they don't like you put every thing on the web, or make this affair more big they will think your problem is not with school, it's with goverment. Because now you haven't say some very bad things on the public message, so they will not do something to you, if you did some they will have some action(I'm not sure). My friend, here is still China, and some times you'd better follow their suggestion, it may better.

I'll say again, don't mention this or everything I said here on your web or public message, it may cause problems, so if you want know more about this, may be you can ask more from the men Mr.Yang or somebody from that office (maybe FAO), after you make sure everything, if you like you can send some messages, but not to bad for .......
And I gave you one suggestion is: do not send message or have some action to quick, you should have more time to think about it and think the result is good for you or not, so be careful, my friend.

I hope good luck with you,

yours,
...


I spoke yesterday to the author of the above and got her OK to quote it. I needed it. I would have been happy to give you Mr. Yang as she suggested except that Mr. Yang (or "James," for foreigners) has neglected to respond to any of the five or so emails he has received from me. So prudent is he, in fact, he has never sent me even one message.

Mr. Yang and I have spoken on the phone a couple of times. Last time I requested that he send just a tiny email to acknowledge the call. He refused!

50. Unemployment

Sent: Saturday, February 15, 2003 5:24 PM

We got a little bit ahead of ourselves in the preceding "Dilemma" chapter. We're not ready to arbite anyone yet. I just wanted to rebut any notion that this ride's done.

For the moment, I was unemployed, and we pause to reflect on this condition. It was -- is -- a more existential, less easily surmounted predicament than you might be thinking.

Was I to return to teaching? To taste more treachery and betrayal from students I was striving to enlighten? To subject myself to a fresh batch of witless, unethical administrators?

Charlotte Bronte's professor-narrator reflects on the attributes yearned for in students (in the course of defending himself from the reader's imagined suspicions concerning his interest in his female charges):


[A teacher] glories chiefly in certain mental qualities: application, love of knowledge, natural capacity, docility, truthfulness, gratefulness are the charms that attract his notice and win his regard. These he seeks, but seldom meets....

Indeed, these qualities seemed considerably less prevalent than untroubled hypocrisy.

What of alternatives to teaching?

A reader generously offers: "I follow your saga with bated breath and DO urge you to think seriously about writing--you are good at it."

Another, perhaps a tad less generously: "I have a suggestion: Your writing is very good. Why don't you figure out a way to become a writer as a career. Your people skills and society skills hold less promise, I am afraid."

I am grateful for the comments, but doubtful about the implicit premise. Media expert Michael Wolff's perspective seems more realistic:


"Book Review"
by Michael Wolff
New York Magazine
February 10, 2003

[Excerpted; full text at
http://www.newyorkmetro.com/nymetro/news/media/columns/medialife/n_8309/]

My dismay about Bertelsmann's decision to throw Ann Godoff out of Random House and merge it with the tawdry Ballantine, and then AOL Time Warner's decision to get rid of its entire book business, was as keen and reflexive as that of every other writerly-type person.

[H]ere I was, along with anybody of any determined high-mindedness (the Times, expressing its umbrage, ran the Godoff story on the front page--even though the Random House division that Godoff led was, in fact, quite a little one), thinking about philistines and media conglomerates, the sorry state of the written word, and the end of institutions that have sustained so many of us, when the issue suddenly presented itself to me in a slightly different fashion: Not How could they? Or Why don't we get out there and picket for Ann and Larry? But Why, for God's sake, would anyone want to work in the book business, anyway? What's wrong with them?

I mean, books suck. Most books are dopier than television or movies or even advertising (many books tend to be just collateral promotions or the lesser offspring of dopey television, movies, and advertising). Even if there are precious exceptions, the overwhelming number of big-money, industry-sustaining books are incontrovertibly dum-dum things. More cynical, more pandering than any other entertainment product. Calling them books may be a substantial part of the problem with the book business--it provides undeserved and unfair dignity (perhaps there should be a way to certify something as an actual book). Working at a magazine where every day random books come flying in by the bushel (along with the calls from sluggish book publicists), you get a sense of the magnitude of the wasteland. Books may be the true lowest-common-denominator medium.

What's more, in the book business, you have to work in really deadening conditions. A modern publishing house provides as congenial an atmosphere as an insurance company. Right now, as Bertelsmann gets ready to move Random House into a new building, facilities functionaries are measuring off ticky-tacky offices and cubicles (perhaps, as they were assigning space, the efficient Germans thought this would be a propitious time to eliminate Godoff). Virtually any other media enterprise (virtually any other business, save for the most bureaucratic and regimented) has more day-to-day comforts, joie de vivre, and personality than book publishing.

Then, on top of doing embarrassing, often even humiliating work in enervating, soul-destroying circumstances, you don't get paid any money. Book publishing is a liberalish, feminist redoubt, but in some kind of retrograde inversion, the economic model requires that women, mostly, do the job because they have husbands to support them (young women, and the odd few young men, who end up in book publishing tend to have their parents supporting them).

Not to mention, even with this schoolteacher wage, there is no job security.

Rather, book publishing rests on a business edifice as fragile as any that exists today. Almost all the power in the business resides with (or, you might say, has been turned over to) a single distributor: Barnes & Noble. The most important number in the book industry, which few people in publishing ever take note of, is the Barnes & Noble share price, which is most often in precarious condition. The entire industry is dependent on the health of an overextended retail chain (something like if the fashion industry did most of its business through Kmart). Were anything to happen to Barnes & Noble, book publishing itself would fall into chaos.

So why would anyone do this? Why wasn't Ann Godoff pleased to be freed? Why aren't the people I know in book publishing (among them, my dearest friends) desperately looking for new careers?

In part, the answer is that against all the evidence, people in book publishing don't agree with my characterization (about salary and working conditions, perhaps; that books suck, no). They seem to believe, in fact, that the business needs to be defended rather than rebelled against.

What if, by its very nature, book publishing is self-selecting exactly the wrong people--like the priesthood or certain police departments?

The love of books, or the idea of the love of books, or the identification with people who love books, casts a very powerful spell. It's far stronger, for instance, than even the sentiment and myths that carry people into medicine--where, of course, almost every doctor is at war with his profession.

While book people will occasionally rise to decry falling standards in book publishing, or creeping corporatism, or the latest ritual beheading of a publisher who "didn't make the numbers," they are, in my experience, really quite content--or at least quiescent.

They may not believe, as Norman Mailer (who would hardly be publishable today) told the Times last week, that "writers are the marrow of a nation, the nutrient," but they do believe that books are meaningful, self-justifying things.

Indeed, among the people in book publishing today, there may be a telling and important disconnect that has occurred between writing and books. That is, writing is not the point--books are. Having run a publishing company, and having hired people who want to work in publishing, I can testify that in any interview, the prospective employee will invariably say: "I love books." Now, this certainly seems to be a meaningless or pro forma notion. But my guess is that it has a rather precise meaning. Not that I love all books, or even most books, or even a particular few (nobody, by the way, ever says, "I love good books"), but that I don't like numbers very much or technology or salesmanship. In other words, I feel uncomfortable with other, harder, realer career choices--I'm looking for a gentler occupation.

Books seem to offer such gentility--they're a seemingly more refined product category. But a product category it is--a mountain of dumbed-down mass-market product. And soon enough, like any product marketer, you come to love your better-selling products and to want no truck with the lagging items. (It is true that there are still people who go into the book business because they have a genuine, disinterested love of literature for itself. But I know these people--and they are all quite creepy. They're no longer part of a social norm.)

Devoting your professional life to books, even to books that sell (even to really moronic books that sell), is for many people arguably better than spending life in a profession in which there are no books, and no talk about books, and no interest in them at all--which is almost every other profession (which book people are still able to look down on).

There are, too, people in books who have come to see themselves as media professionals. They are held back in realizing their full media potential only because of an early career mistake (I have always thought that Larry Kirshbaum at Time Warner Books was a much more likely movie producer than book publisher) or because they lack visual talents and other presentation skills.

Ann Godoff is, it seems, the former type--that is, she is able to maintain a certain snobbishness about books--and her replacement, from Ballantine, Gina Centrello, the latter, a kind of eager purveyor of a media category. The competing pictures of Godoff and Centrello, in almost all the stories on the Bertelsmann putsch, were worth a thousand words: a dour Godoff versus a perky Centrello.

It is, though, I think, a kind of false face-off. They are not really different publishing people. They both seem to have fallen into a book career--Godoff first as a publishing temp, Centrello as an assistant at a paperback reprinter--and to have risen up and been shaped in the modern book business of ever-decreasing expectations on the part of authors and ever-rising irritation on the part of owners (book professionals, interestingly, have earned the enmity of both authors and owners). Godoff and Centrello are wanderers in publishing purgatory. Indeed, if Centrello's replacing Godoff is seen as a triumph of the corporate ethic over a writerly one, when Godoff replaced the journalism legend and bon vivant Harry Evans--forced out, like Godoff, for large advances and thinning profit margins--it too was seen as an assault on editorial eclat and independence.

So of course, the more reasonable answer to the question of why people are still going into the book business given its questionable satisfactions and low rewards is that--putting aside the several thousand people still on the payrolls of the few remaining houses--they are not.

This isn't where a kid with heart and imagination is going to end up. Rather, the book business is logically getting a dimmer bulb.

Now, this is probably true about all the egghead professions. Public intellectuals are now merely political hacks--William Bennett, for instance. Academics are real losers, or, at best, people with specialized sexual and cultural grievances. Writers are, interestingly, often subliterate. And book publishers are . . . cold fish or overly promoted secretaries.

What if, by its very nature, book publishing is self-selecting exactly the wrong people--like the priesthood or certain police departments?

What if the book business reinforces its own failings by hiring failures (as with the priesthood and the police, this might suggest that the book business could benefit from really extensive HR psychological profiling)?

This, of course, would not be a condition unique to books.

Sony has just hired Andy Lack, the president of NBC, to run its music business precisely because he has no experience--or possibly even interest--in music.

The least likely people to manage themselves out of a crisis are, reasonably, the people who created it.

Surely someone at Random House has thought about calling Tommy Mottola.


51. Perspective

Sent: Sunday, February 16, 2003 12:08 AM

I was jobless; careerless; contractually wronged; facing eviction.

But my troubles were trifling next to those of the many who lacked my privileges. To pay them respectful tribute, we once again take a tangent from our tale:


Getting Paid in China: Matter of Life and Death
Suicide Threats Rise as Employers Deny Wages
By Philip P. Pan
The Washington Post
13 February, 2003

Guangzhou, China -- Yao Xinde sat dazed on the roof of the student dormitory he helped build, gazing into the dark sky with his legs dangling over the edge of the 10-story building. It was a cold night, and he shivered as the wind cut through his thin black jacket. On the ground below, a large crowd gathered to see if he would jump.

For six frustrating months, Yao had been trying to get one of this southern Chinese city's largest and best-connected construction firms to pay him and his crew of 80 workers for fitting the interior of the peach-tiled dorm. Now, the 40-year-old foreman and a colleague were threatening to throw themselves off the building if they didn't get their money.

Police arrived quickly, followed by ambulances and emergency workers who unfolded a large net, witnesses said. Two tense hours later, officers accompanied one of the firm's managers to the roof with a package of cash wrapped in newsprint. Police passed the money to Yao and his friend, then pulled them to safety.

"There was no other way to get what the company owed us," Yao explained a few weeks later, chain-smoking during an interview in his cramped, run-down apartment as his young son dozed nearby. "At the time, I was so exhausted and numb, I was really ready to die."

Suicide threats by workers seeking to collect unpaid wages have become increasingly common in many parts of China, a telling sign of the frustrations felt by the nation's working class as the ruling Communist Party presses ahead with efforts to build a market economy while limiting political reform.

The phenomenon is concentrated largely among the nearly 200 million workers who have left China's impoverished countryside for jobs in the cities, where they are treated as second-class citizens. And it is most pronounced in the winter weeks before the Lunar New Year, when these laborers collect their earnings and migrate en masse to their villages.

In the run-up to the holiday this year -- it began Feb. 1 -- local Chinese newspapers carried several reports about workers "treating their lives lightly" in disputes over wage arrears, sometimes with photos of men perched precariously on towering construction cranes. In central Hubei province, one worker spent six hours threatening to leap from a crane before getting his money. In eastern Shandong province, another set himself on fire.

Because most such incidents go unreported by China's state-run media, it is difficult to say how often they occur or how most are resolved. But one Chinese labor researcher who has studied the subject estimates that at least 100 migrant workers, most in construction, threaten to kill themselves over unpaid wages each year in just the Pearl River Delta, the manufacturing region that includes this booming city 75 miles northwest of Hong Kong.

These suicide threats are acts of desperation as much as depression, made by men and women who have concluded -- with good reason -- that China's courts, trade unions and government agencies are unable or unwilling to help them. These institutions are underfunded and understaffed, and often controlled by party officials who have close ties with local employers.

"These workers know the official channels don't work well," said the labor researcher, who asked not to be identified. "But as soon as they threaten to jump, they get attention. And in many cases, they get some money."

The problem is serious enough that police in many Chinese cities have adopted a policy of jailing for up to two weeks workers who threaten to commit suicide, regardless of whether their labor grievances are justified.

The central government has also acknowledged the difficulties that migrant workers face, and last month ordered localities to step up efforts to protect workers' rights and ensure that employers pay wages on time. But it is unclear whether local officials who depend on these businesses for taxes and bribes will respond.

A survey published recently by the official New China News Agency found that nearly three in four migrant workers have trouble collecting their pay. A majority of those polled said begging from, bargaining with or intimidating their employers were the best ways to get their money, while barely a quarter considered seeking help from the government and less than 2 percent said going to court was a good option.

Like most workers in China's corrupt and poorly regulated construction industry, Yao and his crew were not given formal contracts when the Huangpu No. 2 Construction Co. hired them for the dormitory project, and they were to be paid only after the building was finished. But because there is fierce competition for jobs, they agreed to the conditions.

For nearly two months last spring and summer, Yao and his crew labored to meet the developer's strict deadlines, working seven days a week and more than 18 hours a day. But when the building was finished in June, they didn't get paid.

Other crews at the site had the same problem. "We worked day and night to finish the project on time," said a crew foreman, who asked to be identified by only his surname, Xiong. "All of us were exhausted. But what did we get? Nothing!"

The company owed Yao's crew about $10,000, and Xiong's crew of 140 men about $25,000, the workers said.

Yao, a thin, sinewy man who first left his impoverished village in Sichuan province in search of construction jobs at age 13, said he exhausted other options before climbing to the roof of the dormitory at Guangzhou's Technical Institute of Agriculture, Industry and Commerce. Week after week, Yao visited the developer's offices and demanded payment. At first, managers told him the money was coming, but they needed to make deductions for materials and other costs, he said. Months later, they told him they weren't going to pay his crew anything because the deductions exceeded their salaries.

Foremen such as Yao and Xiong were caught in the middle because they were responsible for distributing wages to the workers. Angry and suspicious workers often showed up at their homes, demanding that they be paid and sometimes threatening violence, they said.

Yao and Xiong said they tried getting help from the city labor department. They were transferred from office to office, and never received a response to their complaint. They were also told it would be difficult to prove their case because they did not have written contracts.

The men also considered going to court. But Yao had sued three different employers for back wages over the past decade, and each case had dragged on so long that he ended up losing money even when he won the judgments. "We can't win in court, because the bosses have the money and the power," he said. "We're just ordinary workers. We don't have human rights."

Yao said he tried intimidating the company into paying him, leading his workers in rowdy protests in the firm's office. But that didn't work either.

As the Lunar New Year approached, pressure from the workers intensified.

Then, on Jan. 2, Yao learned his ex-wife had died, and he made plans to return home to settle her affairs. He called the construction firm, and managers agreed to see him and Xiong on Jan. 4.

The meeting did not go well. "They told us they didn't have any money," Xiong said. "Finally, Yao said to them, 'You're pushing us to jump from the building, is that what you want us to do?' And the deputy manager said, 'Go ahead and jump! Go!' "

Yao had read about workers threatening to kill themselves over unpaid wages, but only then did he understand how they felt. "After I left the office, I decided to die. I didn't see any other way," he recalled. "Too many workers were asking me for money, and I didn't know where to get it. I didn't know if my family was safe. But if I died, the workers couldn't come after me anymore."

Yao and Xiong climbed the stairs to the roof of the dormitory. They wept as they called friends and relatives on their mobile phones to say goodbye.

Yao said he told friends to avenge his death by murdering the construction firm's boss and his family. They tried to persuade him to come down. He refused. "If they didn't give me the money, I was going to jump," he said. "Then the company would be punished. Its reputation would be ruined, and it would lose contracts."

Sitting on the roof about 30 yards away, Xiong was thinking about his family: his wife, an 8-year-old daughter, a 5-year-old son, and his aging parents. "I was worried no one would take care of them if I died," he said.

But he, too, was determined to follow through. "We had tried everything, but no one would help us. That made us very desperate," he said. "I thought we had no choice but to choose to die."

Even after the company agreed to pay them, they said, it took a while for police to convince them it was not a trick, that they were safe and had finally won.

Reached by telephone, an official at Huangpu denied withholding wages from Yao and Xiong. "The matter is already resolved," said Chen Haiyang, project manager for the dorm. "Those workers who tried to jump from the building were out of their minds. They made trouble out of nothing."

"They got their money back, of course," he added. "We even gave them more than they deserved."

Researcher Jin Ling contributed to this report.


52. Legal Advice

Sent: Sunday, February 16, 2003 12:31 PM

OK, I had a problem. But so did students who, after all, had lost a teacher. My termination was unluckily timed for one girl, who suffered doubly as a result. The following reply from her was among those received to my "Leavin'" message of farewell:


To: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Tuesday, November 19, 2002 3:42 PM
Subject: Re: Leavin'

Hello Uriel,

I am astonished to hear that. I just finished this week's reading assignment.
Actually, it is my first time to prepare it as your request mentioned in Letter to Student and I thought I could be in today's class without nervous and fear this time ...

The only words I want to say is: You are a responsible teacher. I'll benefit a lot from your class for my further education, career and all my life.

Good Luck!
...


Rebecca handed me the following less friendly letter on Nov. 19, when I dropped into the Foreign Affairs Office to send a fax:


To: Mr. Uriel Wittenburg [still sic]

November 18, 2002

In consideration of your failure to satisfy the College's foreign faculty evaluation requirements stipulated in our Contract, the Foreign Affairs College now informs you that our Contract shall be terminated as of November 18, 2002. Your stipend shall be suspended as of December 1, 2002, and you are therefore required to move from your present apartment no later than November 30, 2002. We shall accordingly go through due formalities to reduce your period of stay specified in your Residence Permit, and therefore your cooperation in this regard will be appreciated.

[stamp with no signature]

Foreign Affairs Office
Foreign Affairs College of China

CC: the International Exchange Center, Foreign Affairs College


At least I had an eviction date now.

Rebecca mentioned, also, that the school would be wanting me to return certain papers.

My official Chinese government documentation consisted of:

- A "Z" ("Foreign Expert") visa (affixed within my passport)

- A Foreign Expert Certificate

- A Residence Permit

Rebecca said I would have to return the Residence Permit and the Foreign Expert Certificate to FAC.

Why? Oh, because that was "the procedure," naturally.

I returned home and examined my documentation, perhaps for the first time. Now here was a surprise. The Z visa in my passport had expired over two months earlier, on September 14, 2002 -- shortly after I entered China for the FAC job.

I didn't have a valid visa? Had I gotten myself into trouble in some new way?

The story I was given was that this was normal, at least for FAC -- and who would argue, given that FAC (unlike other universities) operates under the auspices of the Foreign Ministry?

The Z visa I'd gotten the year before, to teach at Tsinghua, had remained valid throughout that year, since it had no expiry date. (Both Z visas are still in my passport.) But that visa allowed only one entry, before September 15, 2001. I'd already used it for one entry, and moreover my latest re-entry had been later than that. So presumably the earlier Z visa was also currently invalid.

It was my Residence Permit -- the same document FAC now wanted to take away from me -- that apparently made my current residence in China legal despite an expired visa. My Residence Permit had an expiry date of August 31, 2003.

There is an expat community in Beijing, which I'd had virtually no contact with. The only exception (besides current and former colleagues) was the few expats I played squash with (and those were practically the only times I saw them).

But now I needed some advice, dammit. From, like, a lawyer.

I made a few phone calls, starting from my squash contacts, and got hold of a certain lawyer whom I'll call X. (It's probably a smallish community.) X was British, friendly, garrulous, and we had a somewhat lengthy phone talk.

He was 70 years old, he told me, had been educated at Oxford, and had been here in China seven years. He also earned money as a certified English test examiner. (It seemed bizarre to me that somebody who was apparently a real lawyer with a real law office would do supplementary work as a language test examiner, but others told me it wasn't.)

"Don't worry about the visa," he said, "that can be fixed for 1800 RMB [$217]." He gave me the name and number of a Chinese man, a former worker at a security bureau, who could get my visa straightened out. I might, for example, get a business ("F") visa.

I briefly described my situation.

"FAC?" he said. "I taught there myself last year!"

X told me he'd taught at FAC two mornings a week, from September to December, 2001. He'd been teaching for free because FAC had promised to help him obtain a visa. But they'd never come through with the visa. Instead, there had been some kind of orchestrated student campaign against him too! He told me that that campaign had not been as fiery as the one I described, but he described one incident in which a girl had written a Chinese epithet meaning "dog fart" -- to describe him -- on the board. (The girl hadn't been attending class and was angry about a low score.)

"The Chinese haven't changed in the 400 years since Ricci," X told me. "They think of us as clever monkeys."

He was in touch with "Cindy, the president of FAC," and said he'd inquire about my situation.

Cindy?

"Cindy," he informed me, "is also the wife of the security chief for the Prime Minister of China."

Were we talking about the same FAC? Apparently yes.

But I'd never heard of a Cindy, I told him. The FAC president was apparently a figurehead no one ever saw -- Ambassador Yang Fuchang, probably a male. Not "Cindy."

No, he insisted calmly, Cindy's the president, alright.

I didn't know if I was being counselled by a full-fledged maniac, but it raised an interesting question. Did FAC regularly permit students to attack Western teachers? Was this perhaps the school's stratagem for instilling the "firmness" they sought in future diplomats? --To plump up their nationalist pride by humiliating and demonstrating the impotence of Westerners?

"Do you need money?" X asked, in the course of this first discussion. "Or a place to stay?" He seemed prepared to offer both.

"I normally charge 350 an hour," he added, "but don't worry about it."

I called him again some days later (Nov. 25). He'd spoken to Cindy just half an hour before my call, he told me. (Did he know her Chinese name? I interjected. No he didn't.) Cindy, it seemed, had inquired about me at the Foreign Affairs Office and been advised that it was a very nasty business and she should keep her nose right out of it.

"This is advice to a president?" I asked.

"This is the first time in the history of FAC that they've fired a foreigner," X said, ignoring me.

"I had a contract, by the way," I told him. "There is a breach penalty. And if they don't pay it, the contract says I can appeal to a government arbitrator."

"If you do that you'll probably just get escorted right to the airport. Don't make trouble."

"But ..."

"I know you want to, I know exactly how you feel," he said impatiently. "That's just youth."

Suddenly X demanded to know: "Did you take two girls to a hospital?"

This was fascinating. He was clearly talking to somebody at the same FAC I'd worked at. And he seemed in earnest. But Cindy? The president?

I did ask a few people, including my colleague Jeff, if they knew who this "Cindy" might be. No one had heard of such a person.

But why was X demanding to know about that silly hospital story? Was he some kind of extreme prude, like my Law students had pretended to be? Would my chest-baring damn me in his eyes too?

"Yeah," I said, somewhat defiantly, "I took a couple girls to a hospital."

"Of course you did," he said. "What of it? I'm 70 and I'm still screwing twice a day."

A thought occurred to him. "Where did you get my name, by the way?"

I'd momentarily forgotten. I named Jared, a fellow in his mid-20's whom I'd played squash with a few times, but he didn't recognize the name. Ah, no matter, he said.

I'd actually gotten X's name from a friend of Jared's. I spoke to the friend some time later. He assured me that X was really not bullshitting -- he knew a lot of important people in China. And judging from the stream of visitors, I was told, it was also true about the twice-daily regimen.

53. The Enemy

Sent: Monday, February 17, 2003 7:29 PM

While I appreciated X's insights to a point, I thought it meet to seek supplementary legal advice. I connected (via another squash partner) with another lawyer, Y, and sent him the following:


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Wednesday, November 20, 2002 5:49 PM
Subject: re Firing

Dear ...,

I just now spoke with ... about a sudden legal problem, and he highly recommended you.

On Monday I was fired from a job teaching English at the Foreign Affairs College (FAC), a prestigious university operating under China's Foreign Ministry. There has been no specific allegation of wrongdoing on my part. I had the standard university teaching contract, with a specified end date of July, 2003. I've been given til the end of the month to vacate the premises that were being provided by FAC.

My immediate concern is the legality of my status after the end of the month. A letter from the school (dated Monday) says I am "required to move from your present apartment no later than Nov. 30. We shall accordingly go through due formalities to reduce your period of stay specified in your Residence Permit...."

I have a Z visa in my (Canadian) passport which expired September 14, 2002, shortly after I re-entered China and began this job. I also have a Residence Permit currently set to expire August 31, 2003.

After addressing this urgent concern, I'd also like to look into action re the school's contract breach and demanding the breach penalty specified in the contract.

[...]

Sincerely,

Uriel Wittenberg
uw@urielw.com
6832 3200 ext. 8703 (messages)


Notice the "(messages)" in the last line above? I wasn't answering the phone during this period because of my other problem. You may recall the crazy man of yore, "Gary Tan." He'd been in the grip of a phone-calling frenzy for some time at this point. It was months earlier that he'd lost the girl, but a process of transference had occurred, and I'd become his fallback obsession.

I had been wondering about the possibility of tracking down the crazy man in order to discourage him from communicating further calumnies to future employers. Deprived of the comfort of anonymity, I thought he might become more circumspect.

I had nothing but his cellphone number, and there seemed to be no strictly proper, legit way to identify to whom a particular number was assigned. But someone suggested that X might be able to arrange the service I needed. After I'd given him a preliminary phone call, we had the email exchange excerpted below.

Note that while X advises against the course I was pursuing, it's unclear whether he's referring just to tracking the crazy man (which is all I was inquiring about then) or to initiatives I'd been taking (of which "Cindy" was perhaps keeping him abreast) to oblige FAC to pay the contract's breach penalty.


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Monday, December 09, 2002 3:23 PM
Subject: my problem with a crazy man

Dear ...,

Attached is a document I've distributed to people at Tsinghua and at Foreign Affairs College after discovering that they'd been, at least to some degree, influenced by a deranged man sending anonymous messages about me.

I'd like to identify him so I contact his employers and expose his unsavory activities. This seems the only way of stopping him from continuing his harassment indefinitely.

I'd appreciate any help you can offer.

Regards,

Uriel
--------------------------------------------------
To: <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Tuesday, December 10, 2002 7:45 AM
Subject: Re: my problem with a crazy man

Dear Uriel,

I'm an attorney, and what you ask of me falls squarely into the domaine of my Investigation and Credit Manager, ....

Once again, I can only counsel you to let everything drop. Sure I know it hurts your pride, but that is nothing to the trouble you are stirring up on your present tack. China is not America, and nothing is played by the same rules as the States.

Having said that, if you are happy to retain us as your attorneys, please let me know and I will send you a Retainer Agreement.

Regards

...
--------------------------------------------------
From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Tuesday, December 10, 2002 6:56 PM
Subject: Re: my problem with a crazy man

Am travelling.

Puzzled by your message. Trouble? My pride? My present tack? Are you referring to my desire to stop being harassed indefinitely by a crazy man -- or something else?

Regards,

Uriel
--------------------------------------------------
To: <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Wednesday, December 11, 2002 7:15 AM
Subject: Re: my problem with a crazy man

Uriel,

No, all of that.

I know how damaging such a person can be both to your professional life and your psyche, but in the final count it's all Chinese right or wrong together against the foreigners. I've been here over seven years now, and I've learned to be just as two-faced as the Chinese. I smile even at someone I dislike, and move away. Maybe you should too. You cannot win this one, no matter what you do; copy the enemy, and change your cellphone and website, or leave China.

Sorry, I wish you well.

Regards

...
--------------------------------------------------
From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Thursday, December 12, 2002 12:57 AM
Subject: Re: my problem with a crazy man

Dear ...,

Sorry for the brevity of my earlier message.

[Y]ou seem to believe very strongly that I'm making big mistakes. Perhaps you're operating from incorrect assumptions.

FAC has committed a fairly blatant contract breach. FAC and I had the standard university contract, which promises an arbitration option. In an earlier conversation you told me you'd expect me to get promptly escorted to the airport if I invoked that option. If you're right, that would imply that the standard university contract signed by many "foreign experts" is false and dishonest.

I think you're wrong, and we will probably find out soon because unless FAC gives me the money I've asked them for, I will go the arbitration route. But perhaps you are right. If you are, then it would be interesting for all of us to know it instead of merely suspecting it.

Your wrong assumption is: although I've enjoyed the life here and the teaching, the prospect of getting kicked out of the country is not so fearsome that I'm willing to prostrate myself to avoid any risk of it happening. I'm not willing to let them make this respectable arbitration promise and then not call them on it for fear that it's unreal. I can accept that there's hypocrisy in the world, but I'm not going to help support it.

In other words, I've enjoyed China because it doesn't cramp my style. I can be myself. You might say I can be a man, instead of a mouse. If I have to start being super-cautious and avoid causing offense to people who lie to me, cheat me and abuse me, then my enjoyment will be seriously hampered and leaving will not be a loss.

I already made a similar choice at FAC. It was obvious I was courting termination when I made my students' complaint letters about me the discussion topic in my classes. The students hated it because the letters they'd signed were so foolish. But I frankly thought that topic contained the most lessons for them. If I had to avoid the topic to keep my job, I didn't want the job.

In the same way, my lifestyle in China involves open communication with many people. There is no bloody way some loser, some demented, pathetic, cowardly moron harassing me from the shadows, is going to make me change my lifestyle. I am not going to hide or move because of him.

Your advice suggests that perhaps you've made too many compromises, even from a purely practical point of view. I don't think most Chinese people I've spoken with about Gary Tan would support a loser psycho like him, even if it's a Westerner he's harassing. And I wouldn't think so even if his grudge was for reasons other than the fact that I rescued a young Chinese woman he was victimizing. Just as there are differences among Americans, or British people, perhaps you should consider that there may be differences among Chinese people too.

You've spoken of "Cindy" as being the president of FAC. The President, according to http://www.fac.edu.cn/eindex/eindex.htm, is actually Ambassador Yang Fuchang. I asked a couple of colleagues and no one's heard of "Cindy." I'd be grateful if you would shed some light on who she is. I could if she wishes forward to her my recent "bid to avoid arbitration" message to the FAC admin.

Sincerely,

Uriel


There was no reply.

Yet again, it seemed, I'd had the last word.

54. Rules, Contracts, Chinese Modernization

Sent: Tuesday, February 18, 2003 1:14 PM

Thursday, November 21.

Rebecca's requests for my papers were becoming insistent. She phoned to request them again on Nov. 21 at 8:00 AM. I told her I wanted to see the written rules governing the situation. She said she'd look for them.

Around 3:00 PM she called twice more, leaving messages asking me to come to the office. When I went there she had a new letter to give me:


November 21, 2002

Dear Mr. Uriel Wittenburg [still sic!]

Since FAC has already terminated the contract with you, we shall go through due formalities to reduce your period of stay specified in your Residence Permit according to Article 21 of Rules Governing the Implementation of the Law of the People's Republic of China on the Entry and Exit of Aliens. You are required to hand in your passport, residence card and expert card to Foreign Affairs Office before next Monday (November 25, 2002). Your cooperation in this regard will be appreciated.

Sincerely,

[stamp with no signature]

Foreign Affairs Office
Foreign Affairs College


That smarmy phrase, "Your cooperation will be appreciated," is quite familiar in the West, isn't it? That's usually what you hear when someone's holding a gun to your head.

This letter contained a new demand: now they wanted my passport as well. What malice was brewing here?

Rebecca also gave me a copy of pages 222 to 233 of the above-mentioned Rules Governing the Entry and Exit of Aliens. I read them and told her: "There's nothing here that says I should give you my passport."

Poor Rebecca. I guess she was caught in the middle between me and the FAC bosses.

She told me wearily that she'd inquire at the Public Security Bureau for more information, and let me know.

I'd guess a foreign teacher in China typically adopts one of the following approaches:

1. Be less suspicious, trust them more; or

2. Do whatever they ask for anyway, recognizing that you're utterly powerless.

I was close to #2. But not completely there.

I had a letter to give to Rebecca too, though it will come as no surprise that it failed dismally in matching the brevity achieved by the FAC leadership.

Are you feeling a bit skeptical? Does the paper trail on the FAC side seem suspiciously thin?

Let me be explicit. From the time I began teaching at FAC, I have received exactly three letters from the administration -- Nov. 11, 18 and 21. I have given them to you in their entirety, without modification.

I gave Rebecca two copies of the following letter from me; one for the Foreign Affairs Office (herself, Li Jing, also Wang Yan if she deigned to read scribblings from the alien help), the other which I asked her to convey to Heng Xiaojun.

She seemed slightly amused, asking curiously what I thought I might achieve by writing to Heng Xiaojun. I pointed to the words: "an embarrassment which could be harmful not only to students, but also to the FAC itself and even, given the unique role of this school, to China's image abroad."

Hmmph. Whatever. Anyway, she agreed to get the letter to him. The copy for Qing Yaqing, the "IR guy" (whom I'd also c.c.'ed), I delivered myself to his office.


Thursday, November 21, 2002

Heng Xiaojun
Foreign Affairs College
Beijing

Dear Heng Xiaojun,

I write with reference to our meeting of Nov. 18 and your letter to me of the same date.

Before entering into specifics, I will offer the general comment that your breach of contract -- which any impartial observer could easily ascertain -- is inconsistent with China's efforts to progress and modernize, particularly in the areas of respecting contracts, upholding the integrity of institutional processes, and properly upholding the law. As such it stands as an embarrassment which could be harmful not only to students, but also to the FAC itself and even, given the unique role of this school, to China's image abroad.

How is your contract breach obvious? I explain this in detail below.

First, let us be clear that my employment termination is entirely your initiative, and that you have forced this abrupt termination upon me, causing me great inconvenience. You stated incorrectly in our meeting that my termination is something I first proposed in my letter of Nov. 11 to deans Jiang Guo Qing and Zhou Qi Peng. Anyone who reads that letter properly can see that that is false.

You have failed to allege any specific wrongdoing on my part to justify the termination. You have letters of complaint signed by students -- but FAC has made no effort to assess whether the complaints have any basis, and they are in fact groundless. It is irresponsible for a university to welcome and support false student complaints about a teacher; but this is exactly what FAC has done.

For example, the students' letters complain about a telephone call I made to Wang Xi (Summer), one of my Law students. My phone call was completely innocent, as any investigation on your part could have ascertained.

The reason I phoned Wang Xi was to invite her to a dinner I hosted at a restaurant for student volunteers who have been helping me. Wang Xi thanked me for the invitation; came to the friendly dinner we had (on Nov. 1) and ate my food; then, without informing me, signed a letter to the FAC administration complaining about my phone call.

I had tried to invite Wang Xi via email. Unlike most of my other volunteers, however, Wang Xi was not reading her email, as she had agreed to do when she became a volunteer, so she did not acknowledge my email. That is the only reason I called her. After my phone call, Wang Xi read the email and replied, apologizing for not having done so earlier.

Wang Xi's complaint is obviously the height of hypocrisy. A school that seeks to encourage morality in its students should condemn it. Instead, you have supported this complaint.

My Nov. 11 letter to deans Jiang Guo Qing and Zhou Qi Peng explained my call to Wang Xi in detail. You indicated in our Nov. 18 meeting that you had read that letter. No one in the administration has questioned my explanation. Nevertheless, you repeated this complaint about "improper invitations."

My Nov. 11 letter rebuts several additional unfounded student charges in detail. For another example, some students were convinced when they signed the complaint letters that I had "improperly" taken Law student Lue Yangqiao (Renee) alone to a park late one night. The story is completely false. If Lue Yangqiao is indeed the source of some complaint about me, FAC could undoubtedly determine that my behavior has been perfectly correct simply by speaking to the people involved. But FAC seems to be happy to accept any imaginative accusation that any student cares to make.

In our meeting, you emphasized the high number of students complaining -- that is, the high number of student signatures on the complaint letters. Again, any impartial inquiry by the school would confirm what many students have told me: students were pressured, in an emotional campaign, to sign the complaints. This was also acknowledged by my Diplomacy students (class 2001122) in an open class discussion on Nov. 11.

Your decision to terminate my employment is based not only on unfounded complaints from students. Incredibly, you have also allowed a psychologically disturbed man who was harassing me during my tenure at Tsinghua last year to influence your thinking.

The man's name is Mr. Tan (Gary). He is about 38 years old and he works in Tianjin. He was the "boyfriend" of a female student, aged 23 at the time, whom I befriended after she helped organize a public lecture I delivered at her university. Mr. Tan's relationship with her was abusive and exploitative, but she was afraid to leave him because, as she told me, "he would not accept it."

Rather than turn my back on her dismal situation, I discussed it with her and advised her to save her own life and extricate herself from his control. She eventually summoned the courage to do just that. The man then began hara ssing me by phone and email. I thought the man's obsession with me had subsided last July, but in our Nov. 18 meeting I learned otherwise.

By your own reckoning, you spoke for 6 minutes to review the complaints against me. The first of those minutes was devoted to the unspecified accusations made by this psychologically disturbed man. You informed me, for the first time, of anonymous phone calls and email messages about me that FAC has been receiving "from all over Beijing" since the beginning of the semester.

Clearly, since you cited Mr. Tan's messages in the meeting, you regard his messages as relevant. I have to observe that it is a colossal error, when evaluating a teacher or anyone else, to attach any weight at all to anonymous messages of this nature. Accepting such anonymous messages gives any malicious person the opportunity to harm the careers of innocent and responsible people. Imagine, Mr. Heng Xiaojun, how easy it would be for me to arrange to have malicious stories reported to the authorities about yourself. Is this a proper way to evaluate a person's job performance?

If the police wish to investigate Mr. Tan for harassment, I can supply information which I expect would enable them to obtain the necessary evidence for a prosecution.

I would like also to address the most outstanding point in our meeting, your comment with respect to the death threat I recently received. You indicated that the threat should not be a concern by stressing that there are "two conditions." Indeed, the threat orders me to "stop attacking on China and harassing the girls," saying that I might otherwise be killed.

Can it be that you were advising me, in our meeting, to follow the writer's demands in order to protect myself? This is the only interpretation I can see for your comment.

I would note that, apart from this comment by you, FAC has ignored my request for assurances regarding my safety, and there appears to have been no investigation. You did not respond to my question in our meeting as to whether the threat itself is a criminal offense in China.

While a death threat against a teacher is virtually ignored, FAC seems to be acting with great alacrity to reduce the duration of my residence permit, after unjustly terminating my employment.

I wanted to submit this written comment on my employment termination as I have observed it. I would invite you to respond if you feel any of the above is inaccurate or unwarranted.

Sincerely,

Uriel Wittenberg

C.C.:
1. Qing Yaqing
2. Foreign Affairs Office


55. Canada to the Rescue

Sent: Tuesday, February 18, 2003 6:38 PM

Thursday, November 21 (continued).

Heng Xiaojun did not leap to defend himself and the school from my Nov. 21 letter's various imputations. Matter of fact, neither he nor anyone ever replied. Chalk up another "last word" for our side.

However, a former Tsinghua student, to whom I forwarded the letter, offers her perspective:


To: <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Thursday, November 21, 2002 11:50 PM

Hey, I read the letter. I feel bad that people cannot realize the obvious truth. Or, they just don't want to investigate and face the truth. Why? Hum~ I think I can understand. Chinese people are polite, courteous and tolerant in most of the circumstances. They don't want to argue with others or enrage others, because they care about other people's feeling toward them too much. But there is one precondition: the person should be courteous to them as well. Compared to this attitude, you are completely different. If you disagree with some body about something, you will talk straightly to him/her. There is nothing wrong with it. But that could annoy many Chinese. They do not want the truth. They just want you look humble.

Take this for example. You told me that a woman administrator asked the student not to buy you expensive medicine behind your back. You questioned her about this later. Well, this is typically your way to do things. If I were you, I would not let her know that I know about it. Since she would hate me for making her embarrassed.

So your letter is logical and reasonable, but of no use. They just did what they had decided to do, although I feel ashamed of it.

At least you know more about chinese people...

Anyway, don't worry, be happy!

Best wishes,

...
--------------------------------------------------

From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Friday, November 22, 2002 8:08 PM
Subject: culture

>you will talk straightly to him/her. There is nothing wrong with it. But that could annoy many Chinese. They do not want the truth.

True enough.

Don't you think my truth-seeking ways are more consistent with the spirit of your specialty -- science?

Those tendencies of mine make certain puzzles irresistible to explore. For example, I have to ask about this:

>I feel ashamed of it.

---->You can see that it's bad....

>At least you know more about chinese people...

---->The badness is characteristic of the Chinese, and ....

>If I were you, I would not let her know that I know about it.

---->You can't avoid being bad yourself, since you can't escape your condition of being Chinese.

Have I misread your message?

--------------------------------------------------

To: <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Friday, November 22, 2002 8:49 PM
Subject: Re:culture

You are right. But we are talking about surviving in this society. I admit that I do not have the confidence to fight the bad things and wrong doings straightly. I would like to try my best not to be hypocritical, but I would also remind myself not to annoy others.


*   *   *

FAC's pushy letter of this date, Thursday, Nov. 21, said I was "required to hand in your passport, residence card and expert card to Foreign Affairs Office before next Monday (November 25, 2002)."

I.e., by Friday latest?

And my fate if I declined? That was left to my imagination.

This is the kind of thing an Embassy is for, isn't it? Advice, support ... evacuation as the occasion warrants?

I pictured the pre-dawn raid on the FAC campus -- the rapid scrabbling on hands and knees of the helmeted, black-faced advance team, guns slung over shoulders, whispering terse commands to support aircraft overhead.

I had never ridden in a helicopter.

I called the Canadian Embassy in Beijing and reached a Melissa Shepard Legault. She told me: "Do not give them the passport. Or the Residence Permit -- you need it to leave the country."

Then she suggested I go to the PSB myself, explain the situation, and attempt to convert to a 60-day tourist ("L") visa.

That seemed like a good solution that should satisfy any legitimate FAC requirements without relinquishing my documents. I made arrangements with a Chinese friend to go together the next day.

56. Good News

Sent: Wednesday, February 19, 2003 11:42 PM

The second lawyer I'd contacted, "Y," sent this reply:


To: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Thursday, November 21, 2002 9:19 AM
Subject: re Firing

Dear Uriel:

Sorry to hear about your situation. I am unfortunately a bit tied up today as we are hosting a law conference here in Beijing (I am one of the speakers). However, I will have another one of our foreign attorneys, ..., get in touch with you.

At the outset, please keep in mind that short-term employment contracts are very difficult to enforce. Usually an employee can only be awarded one month of salary for every year worked, after the first year. Therefore it would surprise me if you were awarded severance pay. We can give you some advice on your visa and related matters, but unless the school owes you outstanding salary for work already performed, it will be difficult to collect.

Kind regards,
...
--------------------------------------------------
To: <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Thursday, November 21, 2002 5:15 PM
Subject: Firing

Dear Uriel,

I am helping ... with your matter.

Let's begin with the Visa issue:

FAC must upon terminating you labor contract:
1. Promptly report the termination to the local labor bureau and the local PSB
2. Return the Employment Certificate and the Residence Permit; and 3. ARRANGE FOR THE DEPARTURE OF THE FOREIGNER.

Therefore FAC should pay for your ticket back to Canada.

If FAC is holding your passport then they can have your visa physically altered to allow for your change in circumstances.

Employment:

As for disputing the termination of employment we would first need to have a closer look at the written contract of employment between you and FAC.

FAC should give you 30 days notice of termination of your employment contract unless it is for termination on grounds that justify instant dismissal.

Generally speaking, the way employment disputes are handled in China is as follows:

Consultation, mediation, arbitration and litigation.

Either you or FAC can apply to the labor dispute arbitration committee for arbitration within sixty (60) days from the date the dispute arises. The Labor Dispute Arbitration Committee will then arbitrate the case and issue an arbitration award. However, this award is not final. If either parties fail to agree to the arbitration award, they can file a lawsuit on the case to the relevant People's Court, which will then make a final decision on the case.

In China, employment disputes are not allowed to file directly to the People's Court. Arbitration must occur before any litigation.

Severance pay is usually only available to those who have completed one year full service with their employer and is generally calculated at one months wage for every year of service.

We recommend first trying consultation in an attempt to resolve the matter with the minimum of inconvenience saying no legitimate ground of termination.

If the matter is resolved in your favor, then your Visa could be extended to the end of your original contract (i.e. July, 2003).

Your Accommodation:

You should try to negotiate an extension of your stay in your present apartment by stating that the 10 day notice period is not reasonable or sufficient and that you are having trouble finding alternative accommodation. FAC could call in the Public Security Bureau PSB to have you removed - the best that you could do the is to try and persuade the PSB officers that FAC has not given you reasonable time to vacate the premises to which the PSB may not necessarily pay any attention to.

We trust that the above information is of assistance.

Regards,


I'd been reflecting on what a bother it was to have to vacate my premises by the end of the month -- little more than a week hence. But here was a different tack I could take. I could simply not move.

Surely the PSB officers would be more amenable to reason than the implacable FAC administration. Surely?

I went to sleep enveloped by thoughts of PSB's, embassies, planes, and the crazy man.

*   *   *

Daybreak. But a weird daybreak, with surreal light illuminating the apartment. This morning's world seemed to hold new possibilities, like a strange country one is inhabiting for the first time. The phone rang as I was making breakfast. It's only the crazy man, I supposed, ignoring it. The caller left no message.

I downloaded email.... Now here was definitely an intriguing item. I read closely as I sipped my coffee:


To: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Friday, November 22, 2002 1:15 AM
Subject: Heng Xiaojun would like to see you

Dear Uriel,

A man phoned us in the office ask questions about you and about the school's contract. He is reporter for newyork times, newspaper of new york city. Tonight we had long meeting. Heng Xiaojun said he thinks you and school not really disagree so much about everything. And we talked some students, it became more clear there were some misunderstandings.

Now Heng Xiaojun would like to ask whether you are available to meet him at Friday 3PM. He will make your salary raised so it is convenient for you stay at FAC. You will have own guard for protect too.

Heng Xiaojun wants go with you together to PSB explain about threat regarding life, see if ok for guard have weapon. In Article 22 of Rules Governing the Implementation of the Law of the People's Republic of China on Ensuring Safety of Aliens, it is written down weapon is allowed for guard to protect against improper things like what student say to you. But you are required sign paper, must make attestation did not go to park with girl.

About hospital invite, everyone say and meeting conclusion this was only cultural misunderstanding. The girls say sorry, so it easier forget this. But next time may be better ask boy.

Heng Xiaojun wants ask favor to school to stop say taboo words to diplomacy students, also have class for 20 minutes one sunday when you're free.

Thank you!

Sincerely,

Rebecca
Foreign Affairs Office


The phone interrupted my blinking. The damn crazy man again? Maybe I'd pay him a visit with my armed guard soon.

I monitored the answering machine in case it was someone sane.

"Mr. Wittenberg, good morning, this is Philip Pan with the New York Times ...."

I picked up.

"Hi."

"Yes, Mr. Wittenberg?"

"That's me."

"I understand you have a situation where you're teaching -- a contract breach by China's diplomacy school?"

"That's right, they've just ...."

"And you were using Times articles in the classroom on a fairly regular basis?"

"Yes, actually, I'd often ...."

"We like it. We like several of the elements here. Frankly, we'd have no problem with this issue that you're involved in becoming an incident. One exposure in our pages, you understand, and that's what's gonna happen. Obviously, I mean, this is China we're talking about, it's not a market our revenue sources are indifferent to, and if it's not a fully mature audience from our point of view, our management still thinks this presents an opportunity for some preliminary penetration...."

57. Seeking Truth

Sent: Thursday, February 20, 2003 11:36 PM

Friday, November 22 (real).

Boy! Weird dream, huh? So wacky, I could hardly believe I believed it -- even at the time.

A reader reacts:


Now I'm going to have to guess how this apparent victory gets turned into defeat.

It's still very painful to watch, this train wreck, but oddly compelling. I find I often have a reaction I recognize from watching horror movies -- you know, when the hero hears a noise in the basement at night and you shout in your head "Don't go down there!" but they do it anyway?

You may have created a new entertainment genre -- reality e-mails.


Not the most propitious moment to speak of reality emails, actually. But thanks! (I just have to figure out how to bottle this new genre.)

Another reader writes: "You deal in facts and the truth and I have noticed that it wins at the end."

In your dreams, buddy. (And mine.) If truth were a stock, I'd say sell. Propaganda occupies more of our mental space than it ever has in humanity's history, and modern cool-think dictates to disoriented young people to reject "truth" as a meaningless concept.

No, once I really awoke, I was back in the mundane world of bad news, where my cooperation with FAC would be "appreciated"; where the (surprising) suggestion to defy FAC's order to vacate by month-end couldn't tempt me for an instant; and where if the phone did ring (I forget if it did), it wasn't the Times's Nicholas Kristof, nor even the corresponding guy at Canada's Globe & whatsit, Geoffrey York -- both of whom I'd emailed (they just ignored me, like the FAC administration) -- but indeed, just the crazy man.

So, I was set to go to the Public Security Bureau, though I would have preferred to get more clarification of my situation first.

I'd sent this to the Canadian Embassy the day before, between my voicemail to Melissa and her call back:


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Thursday, November 21, 2002 4:40 PM
Subject: Canadian with urgent problem

RE: URGENT PROBLEM, ADVICE SOUGHT

This is a followup to a voice message I have just left for Melissa.

I'm a Canadian and have been teaching English in Beijing universities, last year at Tsinghua and this year (since September) at the Foreign Affairs College.

I was abruptly fired on Monday and given til the end of the month to vacate from the school-supplied accommodations.

My Z visa expired in September, shortly after entry. The school has notified me it intends to reduce the duration of my residence permit. It is now demanding that I give them my passport, residence card and expert card in order to attend to these formalities.

I wanted to request your advice, specifically with regard to submitting my Canadian passport.

I would also like to register my address and contact information below with you ....

Thanks in advance,


Melissa and I had the conversation previously described when she called back shortly after the above. She then sent this:


To: <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Thursday, November 21, 2002 5:07 PM
Subject: RE: Canadian with urgent problem

We spoke.
You should return the Foreign Expert Certificate. It is of no further value to you if you are not receiving salary from the University.

The Foreign residence permit is your authority to live and work in China. You have to show it when you leave the country, so you must ensure that you have it in your possession when you depart.

You will go to the PSB tomorrow to see if you can change the status of your visa to L (Visitor). If they don't allow you to change the status, you should be prepared to leave China. You can always enter again from Hong Kong or elsewhere as a tourist.

You could also try to have a reasonable discussion with the school as to the revised expiration date on the foreign residence permit. You want to allow yourself enough time to arrange your affairs (either to find another teaching job, or to make departure arrangements). Try to come to some sort of compromise with them.

It is illegal to work in China on a visitor visa. You will be subject to a fine if caught.
Melissa Shepard Legault
Consul
Canadian Embassy Beijing


Notice the avoidance of the practical, the refuge taken in uncomplicated theory and platitudes. I'd said that the school was demanding my passport, residence card and expert card and that "I wanted to request your advice, specifically with regard to submitting my Canadian passport."

The reply said nothing about the passport, and of the residence card said only "you must ensure that you have it in your possession when you depart."

So what was the advice? FAC was demanding the documents by Friday (the next day). The immediate decision I faced was whether to comply. Should I? The written advice waffled.

I'd replied to lawyer Y's email the night before:


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Thursday, November 21, 2002 11:26 PM
Subject: Documents demanded by FAC "before Monday"

Dear ...,

Thanks much for your informative reply!

Given the animosity and the position already staked out by senior leaders, I think there's little hope of extending my stay here via consultation and mediation. They want me out of their hair quickly now because I'm embarrassing.

I don't feel adventurous enough to explore what would happen if I remained in the FAC accommodations beyond their end-of-month deadline.

********* REMAINING QUESTIONS re immediate concerns *********

FAC is in fact as of today demanding that I give them my passport, residence permit, and foreign expert certificate "before Monday," so they can go through formalities of reducing my permitted stay. Should I agree to give them all these items?

I spoke to my Embassy today to ask this question. They advise NOT giving them either the passport or the residence permit, since it is what indicates I'm legal here plus I need it to exit. They ended up advising that I attempt to return it myself at a PSB and get a tourist visa in its place.

You also write that FAC "can have your visa physically altered to allow for your change in circumstances." Does this mean there should be no need to give them the passport more than momentarily?

Also, I need to know: do I have to get out of this country by month-end??

I would be grateful if we could talk on the phone about these urgent concerns in the morning. My intention before your email was to go to the PSB first thing. I'll try calling you.

Sincerely yours,

Uriel Wittenberg


I couldn't reach lawyers Y in the morning:


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Friday, November 22, 2002 9:16 AM
Subject: Fw: Documents demanded by FAC "before Monday"

I just tried calling but you're both unavailable. I hope we can talk at some point today. FAC is demanding my documents urgently and I frankly don't know what to do.

--------------------------------------------------

From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Friday, November 22, 2002 9:44 AM
Subject: going to PSB ....

Gentlemen,

Per Embassy advice I'm now going to PSB to attempt to trade residence permit for tourist visa....


And off to the PSB I went, accompanied by my faithful Chinese friend.

58. Canadian Embassy Serves Client

Sent: Saturday, February 22, 2003 5:30 PM

Friday, November 22 (continued).

I'd been loath to go to the Public Security Bureau, figuring the trip would probably be a waste of time. Not only wouldn't I get what I wanted, but I imagined the adverse result would come only after a lengthy wait in some unpleasant place reigned over by uncooperative officials.

But my negative expectations always seem to get overturned when I try some new public service in China -- domestic flights, train travel, medical clinics (the health check prior to starting at FAC), now the PSB. I'm often pleasantly surprised by the cleanliness, efficiency, general workability. (OK -- the medical clinic was superior to the norm, more expensive and geared to foreigners.)

Anyway, my friend and I were promptly attended to at the bustling PSB in the Dong Cheng District (the one to which the Canadian Embassy had directed me). The information we were given, however, was that converting to a tourist visa was not feasible from within China -- I'd have to get it from outside the country.

Melissa's advice, at the Embassy, had certainly allowed for the possibility that the PSB wouldn't give me what I wanted. But the impression she'd given was that it was discretionary, or that if the PSB refused it would be because of my particular circumstances. However, it very much seemed to be a general rule that the PSB could not switch a foreigner to tourist status within China.

If this was a general rule, I thought it fair to expect the Embassy to be able to advise its citizens accordingly.

Back in my apartment, feeling disgruntled after the useless outing, I called Melissa and told her what had happened.

"Well," she chirped, "we knew that was a possibility." She paused for my assent, which I did not give.

Her bright cheeriness brought back pungent memories of Canadian/American customer service "professionalism": briskly cheerful, officious, spurious, in truth indifferent. "I'm not to blame," her immediate reaction meant. The "we" loudly telegraphed, "I told you that might happen." It was Instinct #1, more powerful than food or sex: Cover Your Ass.

She suggested I pursue the possibility of finding another job. "If your ex-employer agrees," she said, "it would then be possible to change your status without leaving China."

The part about finding a new job was devastatingly obvious, advice a barber or shoeshine boy would probably volunteer. (And it was probably impossible. I only had one week. Things never moved that fast here, especially given that it was the middle of the semester.) The only noteworthy element here was the suggestion that FAC's consent would be required.

I inquired: "If my ex-employer agrees? They can still force me to exit the country even if a new institution wants to hire me?"

"I couldn't speak for your ex-employer," she answered. Instinct #1 had her so fully in its grip that she wouldn't even confirm what she'd just implied.

She followed up with a deluge of platitudinous blablabla. She was speaking quickly and fluently in that customer service "professional" style that's so familiar in Canada and the U.S. -- the style conventionally used to confuse, intimidate and subdue "clients" (i.e. all the idiots of the general public).

An interjection or two from me made her realize I had an attitude problem. She bared her teeth with: "Mr. Wittenberg, what do you want from us at this point?"

Decent advice at any point would have been nice, I thought.

It was possible, she insisted, to change to a tourist visa from within the country. "It has been done," she said.

As I learned later from Western friends, there were in fact certain agencies that could get you a new visa without the need for a trip outside China. ("Outside China" normally meant Hong Kong, which I realize is really part of China, but for these purposes, for some reason, it's not.) But in using these agencies' services, it seemed, one was not going through official channels. The agencies did not have booths in the PSB, and they charged a premium, like 2500 yuan instead of the government fee of about 400 yuan that one would pay in Hong Kong. From what I gathered, the premium was the price of "guanxi," connections. Someone was selling access for money (not something unique to China, of course).

I indicated that I wanted to end the call, but Melissa held me back. She'd been off-script, defensive, and she had to conclude in a familiar groove where her "professional" self-possession would be evident.

"The name, address and telephone information you've registered with us are now in our database," she informed me.

Praise the Lord.

"You'll be moving," she observed, and added with great earnestness: "If you do change your address in China, please register the new one with us."

After undergoing this essential advice, I'd earned my release.

That was my last contact until a boilerplate request for updated address information arrived via email a few weeks ago, addressed "Dear Ms. Wittenberg."

59. Seeking Private Resolution of a Sensitive Matter

Sent: Tuesday, February 25, 2003 8:28 PM

Friday, November 22 (continued).

FAC had demanded my passport. The waffling Canadian Embassy had said (orally) I shouldn't give it to them.

It was truly difficult to conjure a scenario in which the Embassy would ever get me out of trouble. Following the Embassy's advice, on the other hand, seemed likely to get me into trouble. The wisest course, I judged, was to regard any information emanating from them as worthless.

I called Rebecca at FAC's Foreign Affairs Office. If I acceded to their request for my passport and residence permit, when exactly would I get them back? And what would be the new expiry date on the residence permit? (I.e., when would be my deadline for exiting China?)

She didn't know. She said she'd inquire and email me shortly.

I emailed lawyer Y, who I still hadn't heard back from:


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Friday, November 22, 2002 12:31 PM
Subject: back from PSB ....

The PSB says I'd have to leave China to get a tourist visa.

Unless I connect with you before I guess I am just going to surrender passport etc. to FAC rather than attempt to oppose them. I seem to be at their mercy here .....


The next day Rebecca got back to me:


To: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Received: Fri, 22 Nov 2002 4:40 PM

Dear Uriel,

We phoned the police bureau this afternoon. Will you please give us your passport, residence card and expert card on Monday? It takes 4 work days to do the procedures. Your residence permit will expire on Dec 10, 2002. We are afraid you have to move out of the present appartment in International Exchange Center before November 30, 2002.

Sincerely,

Foreign Affairs Office


So I had til Dec. 10 to get out of the country (and get a new visa to re-enter).

But would China permit me to re-enter? I queried Rebecca again:


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Sunday, November 24, 2002 4:17 PM
Subject: papers etc.

Dear Rebecca,

Thanks for this. At least it gives me some idea of how to plan for the near future.

I can turn over the requested documents Monday but would first like to check: is FAC simply going through normal procedures to advise the government that I'm no longer employed by it? Or is it doing anything special that would obstruct me from working or being a tourist in China in the future? Please advise.

Regards,

Uriel

--------------------------------------------------

To: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Received: Mon, 25 Nov 2002 10:03 AM
Subject: Re: papers etc.

Dear Uriel,

FAC simply is going through normaol procedures to advise the government that you are no longer employed by FAC.

Regards

Foreign Affairs Office


Given this assurance, later that Monday morning I brought her the requested documents -- passport, residence permit, foreign expert certificate.

*   *   *

It was a pleasant, active period. My teaching duties were history, and every day I spent my free time with friends and former students, going to restaurants, going to English corners, playing squash.

I didn't know my immediate future exactly, but I most likely wouldn't be barred from re-entry to the country, so really I just had to find and choose a job and attend to logistical matters. I had a place to sleep immediately after the month-end ejection from FAC -- a squash partner had offered a spare bedroom. For storage, a former student had offered temporary use of her room in her parents' Beijing home. Arrangements with a moving service had been made. I had yet to attend to measures I would take to address FAC's contract breach, but that would come in due time.

One sunny day, however, as I was biking through the cool, brisk November air along one of Beijing's wide boulevards, the sight of a certain restaurant abruptly brought some unsettled business to mind.

I would be visiting various Tsinghua offices a few days hence in a bid to confront a crazy man's malicious stories about me. (See earlier chapter, "Anonymous Complaints.") But there was another source of false, malicious, yet influential stories about me who was not anonymous. She had discreetly withdrawn from sight when the trouble had begun. She had not come to the last class at all (the week before the would-be class which her classmates stayed away from en masse).

I suddenly realized, as I saw that restaurant, that it would be very wrong of me not to address this malignancy promptly, now, while I was still living at FAC. I sent this soon afterwards:


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Sunday, November 24, 2002 8:56 AM
Subject: Clarity

Dear Lue Yangqiao (Renee),

I've lost my job at FAC; the students have lost a teacher; I've been ordered to pack my things and leave. My contract promised I'd be here til July, 2003 -- and I've been given 10 days to get out.

I wonder if you have reflected on these things at all.

Perhaps it's too uncomfortable for you, since your malice is one of the principal causes.

In my November 18 meeting with Heng Xiaojun (a senior leader of FAC), one of the reasons he gave for firing me was my "improper invitations." I am quite sure he was referring to stories that you've told, and that many students have heard, about you and me.

Many students signing complaints about me believed that I had done something improper with you in a park late one night. The truth, of course, is that you and I never set foot in a park together. But when I spoke with Fan Kun (Alicia) on Nov. 7, she was so adamant about the story that she could not believe my denial.

Your friend Chu Haiping (Elaine) declared in open class, also on Nov. 7, that I am "immoral." (She became mute when I asked her why.) I wonder what kind of story you have told her.

I am sure you want to protest that there were many other stories of my misdeeds. But the other stories were not very interesting -- removing my shirt in a doctor's office, phoning a student to invite her to a group dinner. Only you gave students a dramatic tale of a late-night tryst in a romantic locale.

I think it's therefore fair to say that I've been wronged by you.

Yet you haven't approached me. You didn't even come to class. You've been quiet as a mouse. But now I've decided that this issue is going to be resolved, with or without your cooperation. And it will be resolved soon, so it would be a good idea for you to reply promptly to this message.

Since your lies have caused me some trouble, I think it's fair that I now ask you to undergo the discomfort of thinking about the truth.

The truth is that the one time we went out together, last September, my every word, gesture, and expression was totally appropriate behavior for a teacher going out with a student. That includes suggesting we go elsewhere for a drink, after we'd had dinner in a place so noisy we could barely talk.

You, by contrast, introduced the idea of sex -- by telling that pointless story about automobile license plates, as we were bicycling to the restaurant. You referred to our dinner together as a "date" and spoke of our table at the restaurant as "a good place for a date." You wore a slinky black dress (while I dressed just as I always did in the classroom). And you told me that you had no boyfriend, though I had not asked you or hinted that I wanted to know.

The things you talked about during our dinner showed your excessive, arrogant pride. You're the special girl who declined to make a commitment to join the Communist Party if invited. You told me you're known as a rebel. You proudly recounted how a boy asked if it was because of your influence that your roommates had also chosen not to commit to the Party.

At the outset of the evening with me, you had a plan. You would prove how special you are by having a secret romance with me. You'd defy authority, break all the rules, and demonstrate how much more bold and spirited you are than the other students. Perhaps your plan began to form as early as the first week of the semester, when you initiated our contact by sending me a private email.

But at our dinner together, I dampened your fantasy by mentioning that, before inviting you, I had first tried to invite your roommate Min Xiaomao (Marina). In talking about Marina's refusal, I said a dinner invitation to a student doesn't mean anything -- it's not like a marriage proposal.

And that's what made you furious. You decided that if you couldn't have a love affair with me, then you hated me. And after I paid for our dinner, and escorted you all the way to your parents' home, like a gentleman, you rudely left me without even saying thank you.

The true story of our dinner together was much too prosaic for a special, proud girl like you. So in describing the evening to your friends, you led them to believe that I had done something improper, something "immoral."

You probably don't want to think about all this. But the facts described above are quite clear. And you have behaved quite badly.

I don't think you should be able to escape from even having to look at yourself, while I go through my trouble. Some of us Westerners believe in accountability for one's actions. So I want you to reflect and reply to this openly and honestly.

Sincerely,

Uriel


60. Public Resolution of a Sensitive Matter

Sent: Wednesday, February 26, 2003 11:59 AM

Did Renee answer? No. It was conceivable that she hadn't seen my email, so after a day I tried calling her dorm, then sent the following to a few of her roommates:


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Monday, November 25, 2002 12:34 PM
Subject: Fw: Clarity

I just tried phoning your dorm. Whoever answered the phone rudely hung up on me.

Please tell Renee I would like a response to the message below before tomorrow morning.

----- Original Message -----
[my message to Renee forwarded]


Another day passed with no word. So I went up the next notch, sending the following to all my Law students (both classes):


From: "Uriel Wittenberg"
Sent: Tuesday, November 26, 2002 10:30 AM
Subject: Lue Yangqiao (Renee) in the Park -- The True Story

[This message sent to my former Law students]

Many of you hate to think about the possibility that stories about the bad things I did might be untrue. If the stories are untrue, then your complaint to school leaders might be wrong. And if you signed something wrong, then you did something foolish. And for many of you, it is too painful even to think about the possibility that you did something foolish. Your doting parents never prepared you for anything so terrible.

Clearly, people who are afraid to learn from their mistakes are doomed to eternal stupidity. But for some of you, that is preferable to learning that you were wrong. The most important thing is to be "respected." (Of course, the real problem when you're afraid to look at the truth is that you don't respect yourself.)

This message is for any of you who might have some interest in the truth about the most dramatic story you heard about my bad behavior -- the outing in a park, one late night, with your classmate Lue Yangqiao (Renee).

FAC's leaders heard this story too, and it was alluded to in the list of reasons given for firing me from my job as your teacher.

Now many of you will think that this message too is terribly bad behavior on my part. How could I embarrass Lue Yangqiao (Renee) so cruelly? But you are overlooking a few things:

- I am the main victim here, not Renee. FAC has ordered me to move out of my apartment on Saturday. I still don't know where I will go. I don't have a job. And since my legal status will expire soon, I may have to leave China, a country I enjoy living in very much.

- I'm innocent and Renee is guilty -- her lies caused the problem.

- I tried to resolve this privately with Renee. But she did not respond to my private email (below) and when I tried calling her dorm yesterday (at 1:00 PM), whoever answered rudely hung up the phone as soon as I spoke.

- It is perfectly proper and justifiable for a target of unjust accusations to respond. That may embarrass the false accuser, but people should take responsibility for the consequences of their own actions. As the expression has it: "As you have made your bed so you must lie on it." (Originally written by Moliere, the 17th-century French dramatist.)

Here then are the main points of the true story. My message below to Renee provides some additional information.

- Renee and I went out together once, on September 13. We had dinner at a restaurant on Chegongzhuang Street, some ways east of FAC.

- At no point in the evening was there the faintest suggestion of improper behavior on my part.

- Renee, on the other hand, spoke of dates, boyfriends, and sex. I pointed this out to students during my 2000412 class, on Nov. 6, as soon as I first heard about Renee's stories.

- The restaurant in which we ate became exceptionally noisy shortly after we arrived, so much so that it was hard to talk. I suggested we go elsewhere for a drink afterwards. I had in mind a lively area with many bars and restaurants about 10 minutes northeast of where we were eating, around the lake that extends north out of Beihai Park. It was about 8:00 PM (on a Friday) when we finished dinner.

These are the main facts. If any of you have doubts or questions, I'm willing to meet to discuss.

I will also be relaying this information to the FAC administration. Not to hurt Renee, but to protect myself, since future employers may contact FAC for information about me.

Sincerely,

Uriel

----- Original Message -----
[my message to Renee forwarded]


I also sent the following to the Foreign Affairs Office:


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Thursday, November 28, 2002 4:03 PM
Subject: Lue Yangqiao (Renee) in the Park -- The True Story

TO: THE FOREIGN AFFAIRS OFFICE, FAC

In our Nov. 18 meeting, Heng Xiaojun alluded to the story about Lue Yangqiao (Renee) in the park. I have discussed this story with students. Many of them believed it. The story is false.

I hoped Lue Yangqiao (Renee) might regret her lies and agree to rectify this with you directly. But she has refused to communicate.

Here are the main points of the true story. My message below to Renee provides some additional information. She has not responded.

- Renee and I went out together once, on September 13. We had dinner at a restaurant on Chegongzhuang Street, some ways east of FAC.

- At no point in the evening was there the faintest suggestion of improper behavior on my part.

- Renee, on the other hand, spoke of dates, boyfriends, and sex. I pointed this out to students during my 2000412 class, on Nov. 6, as soon as I first heard about Renee's stories.

- The restaurant in which we ate became exceptionally noisy shortly after we arrived, so much so that it was hard to talk. I suggested we go elsewhere for a drink afterwards. I had in mind a lively area with many bars and restaurants about 10 minutes northeast of where we were eating, around the lake that extends north out of Beihai Park. It was about 8:00 PM (on a Friday) when we finished dinner.

These are the main facts. If any of you have doubts or questions, I'm willing to meet to discuss.

My motive in giving you this information is to correct false allegations made about me.

Sincerely,

Uriel

----- Original Message -----
[my message to Renee forwarded]


*   *   *

I thus sent the true (and, you may feel, excruciatingly detailed) version of the Renee in the Park story to all my Law students and to the Foreign Affairs Office -- the same people who'd bought the false version.

No one responded, except for two students. One was the Law student I saw at the People's University English Corner. I reproduce his message here (though I already quoted it some ways back):


To: <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Saturday, November 30, 2002 12:34 AM

Dear Urielw:
I didin't reply to you these days because I was doing investigation among my classmates about the story.But most of them don't like to talk about that any more.What I heard about is you invited Renee to dinner because you want to find a place to have dinner with those volunteers. After that,you asked her if she would mind taking a walk near BeiHai park.She said she would.And you talked about "sex" by talking about a film and number plate of cars.I am puzzled that it seems has nothing wrong but girls complained about your rude behaveir and they said to the boys "We need your help". I dare not ask Renee ,and she wouldn't tell me.I think if Renee made her story,she may made it with some other girls like Elaine.(That's just my guess.)
I am glad to meet you in that English corner.But I hate that you told the story to the people around you and said I am a witness.Some people came to me,asked what really happened and why.I don't want to tell them the story,I don't want to dish the dirt.Some of them said we may have taken it too seriously,I replied:"You are just a listener,if you have experienced it yourself,you may change your idea."And when I said I didn't check my E-mail for 4 days,you said to those people"They don't check it everyday because they are not science students."Every body laughed.That hurt me.I don't have the habbit to check my E-mial everyday.
Again,you said "Are you all dead"to us because no one replied to you E-mail.No one would,Urielw,no one would.To them,it's all over.We have already have a new teacher.They would forget it soon. I know it's not over to you,though.
Cheers
...


The English Corner referred to, at People's University, was on Nov. 29, three days after I'd emailed all the Law students. That was why I'd asked him when I saw him there, "Are you all dead?" At that point there'd been no response from anyone.

The only other person to respond was a student called Monica. Her response is another nasty piece of business which will occupy us in a forthcoming chapter, but I will say now that there was exceedingly little evidence that the true version of the story had enlightened her.

I leave you with the question: did my messages to and about Renee accomplish anything?

61. Light vs. Dark

Sent: Friday, February 28, 2003 6:53 AM

I've just become acquainted, by chance, with a Dr. Thorne -- a man with certain offensive qualities which it occurs to me you might feel I share.

The man is a hero, I should tell you at once, but is also, in contradistinction to myself, entirely fictive.

Some might opine that the hero position in the novel bearing Thorne's name rightfully belongs to another character -- Francis Newbold Gresham, the young heir to the Greshamsbury estate. But that would be flying in the face of no less an authority than the narrator, who in Chapter 1 is quite explicit on the point:


[Francis Newbold Gresham] would have been the hero of our tale had not that place been pre-occupied by [Dr. Thorne,] the village doctor. As it is, those who please may so regard him. It is he [Gresham] who is to be our favourite young man, to do the love scenes, to have his trials and his difficulties, and to win through them or not, as the case may be. I am too old now to be a hard-hearted author, and so it is probable that he may not die of a broken heart. Those who don't approve of a middle-aged bachelor country doctor as a hero, may take the heir to Greshamsbury in his stead, and call the book, if it so please them, 'The Loves and Adventures of Francis Newbold Gresham the Younger.'

Admittedly, this is a permissive narrator, but you must concede that the pre-eminent position is in reality held by Thorne, not Gresham.

Anyway, Thorne, a medical doctor, causes umbrage by ignoring certain foolish conventions of his profession. This prompts the proper Dr. Fillgrave, "as a duty which he owed to his profession," to refuse to attend on patients together with Dr. Thorne.

As can be seen in the following passage, which I happened to come upon just after completing my previous chapter (featuring my public Renee in the Park messages), Dr. Thorne does not accept the slight passively:


If there was on Dr Thorne's cranium one bump more developed than another, it was that of combativeness. Not that the doctor was a bully, or even pugnacious, in the usual sense of the word; he had no disposition to provoke a fight, no propense love of quarrelling; but there was that in him which would allow him to yield to no attack. Neither in argument nor in contest would he ever allow himself to be wrong; never at least to anyone but himself; and on behalf of his special hobbies, he was ready to meet the world at large.

It will therefore be understood, that when such a gauntlet was thus thrown in his very teeth by Dr Fillgrave, he was not slow to take it up. He addressed a letter to the Barsetshire Conservative Standard, in which he attacked Dr Fillgrave with some considerable acerbity. Dr Fillgrave responded in four lines, saying that on mature consideration he had made up his mind not to notice any remarks that might be made on him by Dr Thorne in the public press. The Greshamsbury doctor then wrote another letter, more witty and much more severe than the last; and as this was copied into the Bristol, Exeter, and Gloucester papers, Dr Fillgrave found it very difficult to maintain the magnanimity of his reticence. It is sometimes becoming enough for a Mediterranean to wrap himself in the dignified toga of silence, and proclaim himself indifferent to public attacks; but it is a sort of dignity which it is very difficult to maintain. As well might a man, when stung to madness by wasps, endeavour to sit in his chair without moving a muscle, as endure with patience and without reply the courtesies of a newspaper opponent. Dr Thorne wrote a third letter which was too much for medical flesh and blood to bear. Dr Fillgrave answered it, not, indeed, in his own name, but in that of a brother doctor; and then the war raged merrily. It is hardly too much to say that Dr Fillgrave never knew another happy hour. Had he dreamed of what materials was made that young compounder of doses at Greshamsbury he would have met him in consultation, morning, noon, and night, without objection; but having begun the war, he was constrained to go on with it: his brethren would allow him no alternative. Thus he was continually being brought up to the fight, as a prize-fighter may be seen to be, who is carried up round after round, without any hope on his own part, and who, in each round, drops to the ground before the very wind of his opponent's blows.

[Doctor Thorne, by Anthony Trollope.]


Just a book I happened to pick up some time ago in a cheap paperback edition at a bookstore somewhere in China, knowing nothing particular of its contents.

The similarities are limited. The "dignified toga of silence" seems to have suited Renee comfortably enough. The significant difference here may be the involvement of the third-party observers. The students who were stirred to passion and moved to irreversible acts by Renee's park fables were less disinterested than Dr. Thorne's newspaper readers. I was the deluded one for expecting a reaction when they learned the fables had no basis. As my student wrote: "No one would [react],Urielw,no one would.To them,it's all over.We have already have a new teacher.They would forget it soon."

Or maybe the significant difference is fiction versus reality. Perhaps there is a tendency among writerly types to exaggerate the impact of the written word and the effect of ideas generally.

Or, a third possibility, the significant difference is the world of around 1850 in which Thorne lived, and our "you deserve a break today" environment where any kind of contention makes people uncomfortable, and where the ceaseless pandering of mass propagandists has made it eccentric to be interested in, or to attempt to pursue, insights into truth (quote unquote).

But I left you with a question earlier -- did my messages to and about Renee achieve anything? I ask because most people disagree with me about this type of thing.

I've referred a few times to the sense, now widespread, that nothing can be known, that everything depends on perspective, that it's delusional to seek objective truth. People who operate in the real world -- the fruit vendor, the plumbing repairman, cops and firemen -- don't entertain such decadent notions and in most cases probably don't even suspect their existence. But a broad swath of the modern masses -- call it the educated/subjugated sector, which would include university students and corporate employees -- have become unmoored from native instinct.

Appealing to the reason of people who don't believe in reason, people enshrouded in this pseudo-mystical outlook, has little effect. My messages would register as nothing more than "Uriel demurs from Renee's strong feelings." (It's unthinkable, by the way, that a victim, or actually anyone with a plaintive aspect, might be insincere.) So my park story rebuttal is lost upon such people.

But there still remain a few souls who believe in reality, and I'm satisfied that for them, my public messages leave Renee's vague insinuations looking extremely dubious.

In the universe of conflicting claims, the Renee in the Park issue exemplifies a certain category of worldly contention, news of which occasionally reaches one. Partisans on one side offer a detailed, explicit, coherent account and are eager to respond to any doubts. The other side, meanwhile, though having offered an appealing case initially, rebuffs inquiries with manifold appeals to faith, propriety, discretion, patriotism, coolness, whatever. Or simply declines to respond.

There is the theoretical possibility that a truth-teller, grimly assessing the ambient level of rationality, would ditch openness as unstrategic and opt for the latter course. But barring excessive sophistication, it's the former course he'll naturally turn to.

Indeed, however, he has no assurance of victory, the ability to think critically being the exception rather than the rule. And that does carry unfortunate ramifications. Under capitalism and democracy, the bedrock institutions of the modern world, the masses' convictions, inclinations and whims are the currency of power. So it's no surprise that the atmosphere is suffused with deceit.

There is an upside to the circumstance of critical thinking being so rare: the world's liars rarely trouble themselves to construct very plausible lies. A little probing -- rare though it is -- is all it takes to make them come tumbling down.

62. Pariah

Sent: Saturday, March 01, 2003 6:32 PM

I forwarded my Renee in the Park message to a couple of my former Tsinghua students. Their comments may be of interest.

One is the girl quoted earlier ("You are right. But we are talking about surviving in this society. I admit that I do not have the confidence to fight the bad things and wrong doings straightly.") She and I had the following correspondence on this new subject:


To: <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Tuesday, November 26, 2002 3:49 PM
Subject: Re:Fw: Lue Yangqiao (Renee) in the Park -- The True Story

Hi, I read all the story. I have the feeling that I would like to talk with Renee and your other law students. I can not think out why Renee didn't reply to you. In my opinion, there is no worse thing than to be dishonest, especially when others have pointed out the evidence. To be frank, I still have the wish that you misunderstood Renee. She just talked about sex, date by accident. However, if it is true, she should have replied.

Also, I can not understand what your students have done, either. Yeah. They may have been fooled and they don't want to face the truth. But there should be some students who have the confidence to face it. Why not a single one? It's a shame if no student in Foreign Affair College do not have enough wisdom and courage to point out and to face the truth.

The only possibility is that they are mad now and all of them do not have the patience even to read your letter. But this attitude shows immaturity.

I am sorry about what you have to face. Pls take good care of yourself. Tomorrow will be another day.

...

--------------------------------------------------

From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Tuesday, November 26, 2002 9:04 PM
Subject: Re:Fw: Lue Yangqiao (Renee) in the Park -- The True Story

Dear ...,

Renee's dorm number is 6830 .... I give it to you on the assumption that you will not be absorbed into the circle of people who think I did something terrible but cannot tell me what it is. Please call! I'd appreciate any insights you come up with.

Cheers,

Uriel


Call her correspondent X. There was no word back from X for a couple of days. Then ... oh dear, this is so complicated. Reader, with apologies, I must ask you to stretch back to long ago when we talked about the evaporation of a summer teaching job at the Tsinghua software institute. Someone at the time had told me it had been nixed by the Tsinghua Foreign Affairs Office (FAO). Months later, when I heard about the crazy man's messages to the FAO (among others), I saw that as the explanation. I set off on a quixotic quest to confront the malicious stories ("Anonymous Complaints" chapter), visiting the software institute (and others). They denied ever hearing about the messages, citing timetable considerations as the reason they'd pulled the plug.

That was Nov. 27. The next day I dug up an email informing me there had indeed been negative word from the Tsinghua FAO, and I forwarded it to X:


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Thursday, November 28, 2002 5:44 PM
Subject: negative word from Tsinghua FAO to Software Institute

Dear ...,

Below is a CONFIDENTIAL message ..... he clearly writes that there was negative word from the Foreign Affairs Office.

I wish you would give him a phone call -- don't give him advance warning via email -- and introduce yourself and try to get as much info about this as possible. You can promise him confidentiality.

His phone numbers are (or were): ...

Thanks!

Uriel

----- Original Message -----
From: ...
To: <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Monday, June 10, 2002 5:41 PM
Subject: Re: re:re:software

I am sorry to tell you that it seems they will not hire you for the job. One reason is that the Foreign Office of Tsinghua gives some negative advice. What a pity...!

...


X's response addresses both this and the Renee matter:


To: <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Friday, November 29, 2002 11:27 PM
Subject: Re:negative word from Tsinghua FAO to Software Institute

hi, Uriel!

I called ... just now. He admitted that there were some nagative words from FAO, but he said it was about your discrimination against Chinese, but not about the crazy man. He didn't hear anything about that man or his bad words on you.

He also said there were other reasons. For example, you just focused on database, but finally, they taught widely about database, operating system, etc. And there was a risk to let you do the teaching because it would be the first time.

He asked about my opinion on the accusation of your discrimination. I feel it is really a misunderstanding. You are staight. You love argueing and criticizing. But infact it is not discriminition at all. You get along with Americans in the same way. However, I can understand that some people feel you that way.

Take it easy & wish you happy!

Cheers,

...

ps, I haven't phoned Renee. I don't know how to talk with her. May be a talking is meaningless.


"You get along with Americans in the same way." You gotta admit, the Chinese have their occasional insights.

Along these lines, a reader writes:


To: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Thursday, February 27, 2003 10:47 PM
Subject: Re: [China] Public Resolution of a Sensitive Matter

>Clearly, people who are afraid to learn from their mistakes are doomed to eternal stupidity.

This is a message you seriously need to take heart yourself.

Why has a genius such as yourself been continually and repeatedly rejected, fired, ignored, abused?

Your lack of understanding of human nature is at the root of your problems. Over and over, you have been rude and abusive to people under the guise of "honesty" and "integrity". I've seen it personally, and you have related in cidents to us over and over again via your emails. You almost seem proud of it! To quote a good friend, when you are brutally honest with someone, its the brutality they remember, not the honesty. Once you have alienated someone, they will do everything they can to avoid further contact with you.

You cannot force people to interact with you. They must want to. That is why no-one answered your emails. It's why people walked out of your class. It's why they made up stories to get rid of you. It's why people I know want nothing to do with you, even years and years after they last saw you.

If you only think in terms of right vs. wrong, or integrity vs. villainy, you will never learn to behave in a manner conducive to creating and maintaining long-term relationships. You will continue shooting yourself in the foot and making life very difficult for yourself.

People are motivated by things other than brutal honesty. Until you learn what those things are, and learn to GIVE PEOPLE WHAT THEY WANT, you will forever be a pariah, no matter where you go.

...


The effect of this testimonial on readers who've never met me is frankly a bit worrisome. Permit me at least, in the interests of clarity, to note that all those people wanting nothing to do with me even years later really comprise, I believe, only one mutual acquaintance. (And he wasn't so nice either.)

63. More Ugliness Surfaces

Sent: Sunday, March 02, 2003 4:59 PM

The other Tsinghua student to respond re Renee, a boy, hadn't actually been enrolled in one of my courses but had audited several of my classes. His comment:


To: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Saturday, November 30, 2002 1:21 AM
Subject: Re: Lue Yangqiao (Renee) in the Park -- The True Story

Poor Uriel,

My sympathy on the unfair happenings you've been through. The girl's conscience will not be tranquil for a long time. But thinking on it, it's absurd a collage teacher should lose his job because of the slander from a student. Something is wrong. After all the girl is lying, you are the victim, yet everybody seems to believe her. Groupthink is not an adequate answer for this. Why is there no one who could stand out and support you?

Excuse me, but is it because people did not particularly like you at FAC? Students, I know very well, like smiles, little jokes, encouragement and praise from the teacher's part. I doubt your students even could understand you fully, because you speak very fast. And judging from the few classes I attended in Tsinghua, I should say your class is very demanding, in that you teach in a very western style. You know, our minds can work in very different ways. The students may fail to produce the answer to the question you think is cake. I wonder if students saw signing the paper which made up your list as an opportunity to get rid of you, rather than an honest personal judgment.

It is very important to make many friends in China. To be in good terms with your boss, colleagues and so on, as we call "to build up relations", is just as important as you do a good job. seclusion is rarely a solution. The wisest man sees the weakness of human nature, the evil side of the world, yet goes on quite merrily with worldly stupidities, because he has a worldly life to take care of first!

Hope you can sort out soon.

With concern,
...


East and West, it seems, the price paid for relating a story involving setbacks is to receive free advice on one's intellectual shortcomings. No matter. I go on quite merrily.

Are we ready for a little more Uriel-bashing? OK, here we go! (Was my reader right? Am I perversely proud of all these clashes? Or is it an uncontrollable compulsion for "brutal honesty" that makes me serve up this cacophony of vituperation?)

I mentioned there was virtually no acknowledgement of my Renee in the Park email, which I'd sent to all students in both my Law classes. Yes, of course one can theorize about how they didn't want to face the truth, but it still seemed very bizarre. Reflect a moment, Reader. The story of my park misdeeds with their classmate was the most specific allegation of wrongdoing underlying the Law students' extraordinary, near-unanimous complaints to the administration. The story was widely known and believed, and many evidently felt genuine emotion. (Recall Alicia and Elaine above.) How could my detailed account debunking the entire incident as fictional not only spark zero controversy, but bring not even a ripple to the calm surface of student indifference?

Call me naive, draw your own conclusions about my deficiency of wisdom, but truly I found it difficult to believe that many of these bright, third-year Law students could be so devoid of basic integrity.

So I wondered: was somebody monkeying with the Internet? Had my message been received at all?

I'd sent the public message on the morning of Nov. 26. The next evening (Nov. 27) I phoned the imperturbable Dwilin. He seemed to have no clue about any email regarding Renee. But he told me he hadn't been checking email lately. He agreed to check and send me a message. (He never did.)

The same evening I called Victor, another Law student, reaching him on his cellphone. After we'd talked for just a moment, a colleague knocked on my door. I told Victor to hang on a minute. When I returned, he'd hung up. I hit redial and a girl answered. She told me Victor was unavailable.

He'd been available a very short time before, I pointed out.

"What's your purpose?" she asked me.

"What's your name?" I countered. I assumed it was one of my students, but couldn't recognize her voice.

She wouldn't tell me. Then she abruptly hung up.

It had been -- you've been waiting for this -- Monica: an ordinary-looking Chinese girl who'd formerly sat -- polite and apparently respectful and appreciative -- in one of the Law classes I'd been teaching.

Prepare to be revolted by our subsequent correspondence:


To: <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Saturday, November 30, 2002 12:23 AM
Subject: Re: Fw: Clarity

Dear Mr.Wittenberg,

as a former student of yours, i have to confess that it was me who had hung up your call to Victor (my boy friend) the other day, because he was busy at his study. if what i did has hurt your feeling, i would like to give my apology sincerely.

however, after reading your letter to us, i can hardly agree on your opinion. as one of Renee's former high school mates and current roommates, i certainly know Renee better than you do. as far as i concern, Renee is such a girl of innocent and friendly,though sometimes a bit ambitious and pride. i am sure she is not the kind of person that you have discribed.

maybe you will think my point comes unreasonably,because afterall, that's is not my business, and there is no direct conflicts between you and me. then let me tell you what makes me send this letter:

1. if you really respect Renee and other students, you shouldn't make your letter to Renee known to other students. i am afraid that your only purpose of doing so is to let everybody in class2000411 and 412 believe your word and hate Renee.but unfortunately, this will never happen.

2.in your letter, you have pointed out that due to Renee's influence, girls in our dorm "had also choosen not to commit to the party". but the truth is ,a girl in our dorm has already been a Communism Party mumber for exactly 3 years, and 3 of the other six has handed the application letter of joining the party to the authority. the distorting of the basic facts shows what you have said has a poor credibility. it is more reasonable for us to believe that you have made up the story,than to doubt our classmate's personality.

3.if you read your letter again, you will find many insulting words that you have used. those are definately not the proper words used by a teacher to his student. so far till now, no matter how deep your misunderstanding is, students in our department (including Renee), have never used a word so insulting to you. don't tell me you are not in purpose, such a gentleman like you always keeps every of his words in good order.

based on the three points above, i can not mentally accept your letter,and i am afraid that is also other students' attitude.you always say that, students in FAC have goupe thinking, but for most of the times, the majority really hold the truth.

please forgive my words if any of them offends your feeling(and also the spelling and grammatical mistakes i have made)--i like the way of expressing what i am thinking about directly. afterall, thanks for the efforts you had put in your academic teaching, and hope you can enjoy your life wherever you go.

respectfully yours, Monica

based on the three points above, i have

>From: "Uriel Wittenberg"
>To: ,,
>Subject: Fw: Clarity
>Date: Mon, 25 Nov 2002 12:34:23 +0800
>
>I just tried phoning your dorm. Whoever answered the phone rudely hung up on
>me.
>
>Please tell Renee I would like a response to the message below before
>tomorrow morning.
>
>----- Original Message -----
>From: "Uriel Wittenberg"
>To:
>Sent: Sunday, November 24, 2002 8:56 AM
>Subject: Clarity
>
>
>Dear Lue Yangqiao (Renee),
>
>I've lost my job at FAC; the students have lost a teacher; I've been ordered

[...]

--------------------------------------------------

From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Saturday, November 30, 2002 7:42 AM
Subject: Re: Fw: Clarity

Wang Meng (Monica),

I guessed the girl handling Victor's phone, telling me he's "not available" and hanging up on me, would probably be his "girlfriend," though I didn't know it was you. I was tempted to drop him a line wishing him well in his relationship with this heart of ice, but then I thought, why even waste an email on a boy so weak he prefers to have his g/f insult a teacher on his behalf?

"Hurt feelings" is not really an apt way to describe what I felt when you hung up the phone. It was more like a shudder of disgust, coupled with a feeling of wonderment -- what kind of barbarians have I been teaching?

You are in fact the girl referred to in my groupthink article at http://urielw.com/fac/grpthink.htm (though I was too kind to identify you): "When I told one of the classes that my sincere objective was to help students think better and make them mentally stronger, one girl laughed contemptuously."

Yes, good luck to Victor. He'll need it.

Teachers like me are fundamentally motivated by a desire to make the world a better place. But making savages like you stronger would make it a worse place. So it certainly makes me question what I've been doing. Some who are more optimistic than me might think there's hope for your moral betterment. But you're already, what, 20? Will you change, given your overt rudeness (a reversal of your apparent friendliness until recent events freed you to offend me), your arrogance, your malevolent attitude, your rationalizations and your commitment to your false beliefs? I'm inclined to think you'll continue along the path of darkness.

I have heard this perversion of the meaning of "apology" repeatedly here at FAC: "if what i did has hurt your feeling, i would like to give my apology sincerely."

"Sincerely" too seems far beyond your realm of comprehension, used mostly as a verbal adornment to round out your sentences.

An apology is not contingent on someone else's feelings, you little fool. You offer an apology when you reflect on something you've done and wish to express that it was objectively wrong.

Why should I even rebut the lapses of reasoning in your objections to my message about Renee? I'll just let you go on your way, misjudging everything and keeping Victor safe when he's "busy at his study."

Uriel

c.c. Wang Da Zhong (Victor)

--------------------------------------------------

To: <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Sunday, December 01, 2002 1:17 AM
Subject: CONTACT

MR WITTENBERG,

indeed, victor and i called back twice that evening, according to the numbers in his phone.but no body answered. --we are too innocent to get involved.

i just wish i could use english as well as you do,your grace,or you can speak some chinese. otherwise we are not given the equal opportunities to debate.

but certainly, we will have more time to learn than you do,so you'd better keep yourself barking as long as possible.

remember,we really have no desire to make window to your soul,but what you did to us is absolutely of that intention

if what i have said makes no use on your thinking, just accept our wish:

ENJOY YOUR WAY OUT, GARBAGE!


This marks an exception to the rule -- I let this stand as the last word.

64. The Contract

Sent: Monday, March 03, 2003 12:00 AM

As mentioned, I had the status of "Foreign Expert," both at Tsinghua and at FAC. That meant I had a government-issued Foreign Expert Certificate, and the standard Foreign Expert contract with my employer.

The cover of the contract says: "Issued and printed by the State Administration of Foreign Experts Affairs." It has standard wording, with blanks for writing in the names of the parties, the start and end dates, and the monthly salary.

Section 8 of the contract, titled "Breach Penalty," states: "When either of the two parties fails to fulfil the contract or fails to fulfil the contract obligations according to the terms stipulated, that is, breaks the contract, it must pay a breach penalty of US $500 to 2,000 (or the equivelant [sic] in RMB)."

Section 11, titled "Arbitration," states: "The two parties shall consult with each other and mediate any disputes which may arise about the contract. If all attempts fail, the two parties can appeal to the organization of arbitration for foreign experts affairs in the State Administration of Foreign Experts Affairs and ask for a final arbitration."

One of my regular squash partners was a Chinese businessman in his late 30's who spoke no English. With his bilingual wife serving as translator, we nonetheless managed to be friends, and besides squash we all ate out together quite a few times, sometimes with groups of his friends and/or one of my students. To all appearances he was successful and also had connections in the Communist Party. And he played good squash to boot.

So I was confident when his wife put me in touch with a Chinese lawyer friend. I first spoke with him Nov. 27, at which point I was not thinking much about invoking section 11. A few people had opined that the arbitration option was an invitation to trouble -- like, getting kicked out of the country. This was unreliable and somewhat implausible advice, but anyway I thought I could get some reasonably adequate penalty payment without resort to arbitration.

The lawyer and I had the following correspondence:


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Wednesday, November 27, 2002 11:42 AM
Subject: Meeting re Breach Penalty; unanswered letters

Dear Wang Yuan Cheng,

Attached are several letters I wrote to the FAC administration, describing how there is no basis for the criticisms made against me. I have received no response to any of them.

As discussed, I do not want to be a "hero" and take action against the school which might result in my being thrown out of China. Also, it is not possible to get my job back at this point -- they would lose too much face. But it might be good for you and I to meet with FAC together to request payment by FAC to me of the breach penalty specified in the contract. I would like $2000 (U.S.).

Best regards,

Uriel

--------------------------------------------------

To: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Thursday, November 28, 2002 10:12 PM
Subject: Re:Meeting with FAC about contract

Dear Uriel:
Your e-mail and the attached letter had been recieved and carefully read. If you can pay me RMB 2000 yuan as working fee, I 'd like to go with you to discuss about the breach penalty with leaders of FAC.
You can expect some money ,but I'm not sure the exact result. As you said ,it maight be good for us to try.
My mobile number :...

Best regards,

Wang yuancheng.

--------------------------------------------------

From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Friday, November 29, 2002 8:51 AM
Subject: OK!

Dear Yuancheng,

OK, that's agreeable to me. I will also offer you an alternative (your choice): 1000 yuan + 10% of whatever we get from them.

I'd like if possible to meet them today or Monday. Please call me as soon as possible and leave a message on my answering machine.

Best regards,

Uriel


My preference for his fee was 1000 yuan + 10%, and he accepted that when we spoke again by phone. A meeting was arranged with the FAC Foreign Affairs Office for Monday, Dec. 2 at 2:00 PM, and he and I agreed to meet at FAC a half hour earlier.

This was great. I would have a genuine Chinese guy, a lawyer, lining up those FAC ducks and giving it to them short and sweet. Everyone always talked about cultural differences, the Chinese communication style, subtlety, indirectness, blablabla. Now I had a Chinese mouthpiece who could talk in whatever that style was. But at the same time he'd "carefully read" my letters and appreciated how our argument could pulverize and obliterate any defense they could possibly put up.

He'd sit Wang Yan and her brood down in that office of theirs and give it to them straight. Or at least, Chinese-straight. Frankly I had no idea how it would come out. Obviously it would be necessary to kick a little butt. Somehow, my lawyer would give them something whose equivalent, on this side of the cultural chasm, sounded something like:


Guys, guys, guys, guys. Look. Facts of life, OK? This here's a contract. We ain't the Wild East no more. Modernization, rule of law, WTO -- anyathat ring a bell?

Look, I sympathize -- I get pissed myself at those pushy Americans. But I mean, I'm lookin' at the trail here .... You guys got nutt'n. It's a fuckin' farce. Honest to God, I was laughin'. Cough it up people, or, hey, I'm gonna be frank, we're gonna whack you, trust me. Whaddaya think a judge is gonna do with this thing? I mean, come on, he's a Foreign Expert! This is a national embarrassment. People, take my advice. The party's over. It's time to fold.


65. Chinese Legal Gladiator to the Rescue

Sent: Wednesday, March 05, 2003 3:20 PM

"The party's over. It's time to fold."

OK, I was naive. No, I was an idiot. An effing idiot.

No folding of any description occurred.

By December 2, the date of my meeting with Lawyer Wang Yuan Cheng and FAC, I had moved to a friend's place on the east side of Beijing. I opted to bike, and the one-hour ride across town to FAC, along Beijing's broad, convenient bike lanes, was refreshing.

Lawyer Wang's appearance, in this first meeting with him, surprised me. On the phone he'd had a gruff-sounding, not-young voice (as well as abysmal English). I'd pictured a Chinese man in his 40's or 50's in typically drab garb, perhaps wearing clunky-looking black-framed glasses. In fact he seemed to be in his mid-30's, and he was handsome, sleek-looking, and sharply dressed -- spiffy suit, tasteful tie.

"That's the problem," one of my young Chinese lady friends later told me.

With looks like that, who needed lawyering ability? And why would a guy like that want to muss his hair with someone else's fight (even if it was his job)?

Did we have any negotiating leverage with FAC? No clue. We had section 11: "the two parties can appeal to the organization of arbitration for foreign experts affairs in the State Administration of Foreign Experts Affairs." I'd expressed to Lawyer Wang a disinclination to go the arbitration route -- but of course, as I stressed to him in our private talk before the meeting with FAC, they were not to know that. They had to believe I'd be glad to go for it.

We arrived together at the FAC Foreign Affairs Office at the appointed time. Wang Yan and Li Jing were there. They spoke Chinese briefly, and Lawyer Wang explained that they wanted to hold the meeting without me present. I consented, and they went off together to the adjoining meeting room. "It'll be under thirty minutes," he said as he followed them.

I had an errand to run anyway. I'd left some business unsettled when I'd moved out of the FAC apartment a couple of days previously.

On my initial arrival at the beginning of the semester, my apartment's walls had been plain and blank. Among my other improvements, I'd bought and hung four pictures. The price was 480 yuan ($58), and I'd paid a 200 yuan deposit. The building management paid the 280 yuan balance when the pictures were delivered to the building a week later (after framing).

On Nov. 29, when I was preparing to move out, I spoke to Michelle, one of the assistant managers working under my old friend Otto, the building boss. Would they be willing to buy the pictures? If so I'd leave them on the walls and they'd reimburse the 200 I'd paid. She agreed. But when I moved out the next day, she was off duty and no one knew anything about it.

It didn't seem like a big deal -- I'd get it later. But now, Dec. 2, I was referred to Otto -- that is, Wen Quan, Director of the International Exchange Centre (as the building is known), and also Deputy Director of the FAC Foreign Affairs Office. He advised me, with a contented smirk, that there was no way I was getting money for those pictures. Michelle, he said, had no authority to make such a deal.

Michelle herself, looking upset, did not disavow the words she'd spoken to me only two days before. But she claimed that when she'd said "Yes, OK," what it meant was that she understood the proposal I was making. It did not mean she agreed to it.

It seemed that no agreement here at China's diplomacy school was too elementary, too plain and simple and straightforward, to preclude rationalizations upon its being breached.

*   *   *

More than one Chinese friend has told me he or she doesn't like the idea of my writing a "deeper, darker" story about China: "every coin has two sides, could you possibly look on the bright side after you focused so much on the dark one? i don't like the title even at the very moment i saw it, really."

But I'm not tilting this story toward any particular side. I'm giving you the whole truth.

*   *   *

I returned to the Foreign Affairs Office. They were still in the meeting. I was permitted to surf the web on the office computer while waiting. They finally emerged at 3:40 PM. (They'd been in since 2:00.) Lawyer Wang and I departed together and sat in his car in the parking lot to talk.

Was it true, he asked, that the students refused to attend my classes?

A qualified yes. In certain classes, that was more or less the situation.

Then maybe, he offered with some hesitation, the school was justified in firing me. The students wouldn't accept me, he'd been told. The school had no choice.

This didn't sound quite right. Justified? (This also represented a shift from FAC's previously offered rationalizations.) Who in China could take seriously the contention that a state university administration was helpless before the will of the students?

"Everyone in China knows," I told him. "The students are not the boss."

He went on. I'd requested, in view of the various false stories, a letter from FAC declaring they wouldn't communicate allegations to others. If I kept quiet, Lawyer Wang told me, none of the bad stories about me would be transmitted. They'd promised him that orally.

I'd also requested to be given the anonymous messages from the crazy man. They were in the garbage, Lawyer Wang had been told. They didn't have them anymore.

Also, he told me, Wang Yan wasn't the least perturbed about the possibility of my invoking the arbitration clause. The organization to which one submitted arbitration requests was the State Administration of Foreign Experts Affairs -- the same government unit that issued Foreign Expert certificates. "If Uriel invokes the arbitration clause of the contract," he quoted Wang Yan as saying, "he will be barred in future from obtaining another Foreign Expert Certificate."

Lawyer Wang expected a settlement offer. He advised that I wait and see. That night he wrote:


To: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Monday, December 02, 2002 9:02 PM
Subject: Re:additional salary

Dear Uriel:
After we detarture,I made a talk with Ms wangyan , she informed that FAC has agree to give you an other RMB 3800 yuan to you as "an answer for my work",you can go to foreign affair department to see Yang Ning for you "additional salary" tomorrow morning after nine. I think it might be the final answer from FAC.If you like ,I'd like to go with you.

Best regards.

Wang Yuan-cheng


3800 yuan ($458) coincided with the cash component of my monthly salary (though I'd also had accommodations provided). I replied late that night and also the next morning. Excerpts:


From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Tuesday, December 03, 2002 1:28 AM
Subject: Re: Re:additional salary

Dear Yuancheng,

Thank you for offering to return to FAC with me. Yes, I'd be pleased if you'd accompany me. However, going on Dec. 3 is out of the question. Why such short notice?

I'd like you to please reply and tell me via email exactly what they said would happen if I invoke the arbitration clause. Also, who said it? Wang Yan?

Accepting student complaints about an instructor without even the slightest investigation is foolish and constitutes incompetent administration.... An arbitrator would indeed have to be hopelessly biased to find the school's actions justified.

--------------------------------------------------

From: "Uriel Wittenberg" <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Tuesday, December 03, 2002 9:13 AM
Subject: please advise exactly what they said

Dear Yuancheng,

As I review yesterday's events, I am afraid that what happened is:

- at 2 PM you believed I was right and they had clearly violated the contract, as explained in my Nov. 21 letter and others. Their only point was "student dissatisfaction", which is not enough to fire a teacher when the student complaints are clearly false.

- Wang Yan insisted on meeting you without me being present so that she could avoid my objections to her arguments.

- Wang Yan's strategy worked. She succeeded in persuading you that they had a proper basis for firing me. But her means of doing so was again based on nothing more than "student dissatisfaction".

Again, it is clearly irresponsible for a school to accept false student complaints without investigation.

I think you need a follow-up meeting with them in which you represent my side more forcefully. The fact is, they have given you no justification for firing me. Therefore they breached the contract. Therefore they owe me money. I do not see any counter-argument they can present.

Students do not decide when to fire a teacher. The school cannot pretend they are helpless to control a student rebellion. No one in China could believe that. The admin could simply interview the troublemakers who organized the rebellion and pressured fellow students, establish that the complaints are false, and give them a serious warning. That would be the end of the rebellion.

I want to be sure I understand certain items of information that they told you in yesterday's meeting precisely, so I would appreciate clarification in your reply email on the following:

- about invoking the arbitration clause: why is this bad for me? exactly what will happen if I do this?

- who issued that warning (about invoking the arbitration clause)?


But Lawyer Wang was gone. I'd paid his fee (1000 yuan). And he'd completed his task, as he conceived it. He'd met with the FAC ladies; had no doubt charmed them with his gracious reasonableness; and had even gotten me some money. His job was done.

True, he'd offered to accompany me to FAC to collect the $458 prize he'd won for me. But something had apparently come up, between his 9 PM message and the following morning. When I phoned him Dec. 4 (Wednesday), he told me he hadn't seen my email replies. He was out of town, with no email access, and would be back on the weekend. He said he'd called our mutual friend X (my squash partner's wife) to ask her to explain Chinese culture to me. And he said I should also consider the fees charged by the government arbitrator. (In fact, I don't believe there are any.)

But he had no time to talk now. He was in a meeting, he said. Maybe we could talk on the weekend. And he hung up.

I called X, the lady I had to thank for connecting me to Lawyer Wang. She said she wondered whether FAC, with its Party connections, would be in a position to exert pressure on Lawyer Wang. In the exchange that followed, it wasn't clear whether she understood the concept of "conflict of interest." (It's probably extraneous to "Chinese culture.")

Ordinarily one would think it's advantageous to obtain one's lawyer via personal connections. But when you select one at random from the yellow pages, you at least have the name of a firm -- a real company, an office phone number. These details hadn't seemed particularly vital to me before. But now I wanted to know: "Who is this guy? What firm does he work for?"

Alas, the connection did not originate with X's competent husband, as I'd more or less taken for granted. He worked, she told me, at the same law firm where a high school classmate of hers worked as an accountant.

At this point it seemed a fair likelihood that the man was a "connection" merely by virtue of the fact that Lawyer Wang was someone's boyfriend. In any case, it looked like somebody had used my situation as an opportunity to do him a favor. For him this had served as an introduction to some new friends, connected with the Party, who could see that he was not only charming, but cooperative as well.

What was this firm's number, I wanted to know. What was her friend's number?

X said she'd call me back. When she did, later that day, the story had changed. The lawyer had left her friend's firm in 1993 to become a partner in another firm. She was sorry, but it seemed like trouble, and the friend did not want to speak to me, and also didn't want to divulge Lawyer Wang's office number.

And X had a new story about me that she'd heard from Lawyer Wang: I'd played a song in class once and asked a girl what the lyrics meant. When she said she didn't know, I purportedly told her: "making love."

Which I don't doubt would seriously contravene the tenets of Chinese culture.

No wonder that meeting had taken so long. There were many more stories than just the ones that had reached me.

I had one further conversation with Lawyer Wang, by phone, on Dec. 9. Would it be possible for him to at least read the Dec. 3 email message I'd sent him?

Sure, he could do that. But his fee of 1000 yuan per hour would apply for additional work.

Well, naturally I'd need some time to think about that. (Like, a millisecond.) But could he at least make clear exactly what FAC had told him? I particularly wanted to confirm what Wang Yan had told him about the consequences of invoking the contract's arbitration option.

That threat hadn't been voiced by FAC explicitly, he said. He told me it was the impression he'd gathered from his meeting with them.

66. Reflecting on the Western Difference (Part 1)

Sent: Friday, March 07, 2003 9:50 AM

It may have occurred to you that as "friends," some of the folks I know here leave something to be desired. Let me say I don't think my squash partner's wife was malicious or particularly selfish. But I guess I'd allow that she wasn't very worldly-wise; I suppose it'd be hard to deny she was a bit foolish; conceivably, if it were proposed that she was ignorant and weak, my opposition would be less than vigorous.

But not malicious.

We went for dinner on a subsequent occasion, after a squash match -- she, her husband, myself and a former student -- and her husband, on hearing the story, had little trouble appreciating that this had been a pretty lousy lawyer.

The wife offered to reimburse me for the 1000 yuan fee I'd paid Lawyer Wang, but that wasn't the way to ease my woes.

Particularly egregious had been Lawyer Wang's specific report to me, immediately after his meeting with FAC, to the effect that they'd warned that if I pursued arbitration, I wouldn't get another Foreign Expert certificate. That had just been an outright lie.

TEST: Why would he tell this lie?

ANSWER [Note to printer: make this upside down. Premium edition uses special ink requiring Uriel-glasses]: to tenderize me and make me more amenable to the crumbs he'd won for me, thus making me more satisfied with his work.

*   *   *

Chinese people, faced with the endless screwups and inefficiencies here, regularly comment to me that their country is far less advanced than the West. I'm convinced this view of the West as a land of glorious competency is a factor in the widespread conviction here that America's bombing of the Chinese Embassy in Yugoslavia was deliberate, rather than an accident as the U.S. claims.

But the West, I tell them, is also brimming over with screwups. In a nutshell: Stupidity dominates.

Reader, please do not protest that "every coin has two sides, could you possibly look on the bright side." Just open your eyes to the truth.

I'm not condemning anyone's intrinsic nature or potential. "Stupidity" describes the apathy and indifference that the culture I know has infused into most people. The fact is, as I know from long experience both as a consumer and a former corporate software developer, most organization workers don't give a damn whether what they're doing brings the least genuine value into the world.

Take a recent mundane example, from among thousands. My mother, approaching 80, gets an automated phone call from the local library's new system advising her that the book she reserved has become available. She plows through Toronto's Siberia-like winter to retrieve the book -- and it turns out not to be available. Staff have no clue why she got the call.

While she's there, they advise that a book she's already borrowed is overdue. The system told them so. In fact, no. She has returned the book quite some time previously.

Besides the way organization workers are content to devote their working lives to worthlessness, it's also characteristic of the culture I know that abstract ideas have virtually no power whatsoever to bring about action, even when a clear-cut, obvious issue of injustice is involved.

While I was visiting Toronto last summer, an acquaintance of mine who works as an elementary schoolteacher at Toronto's Dewson School, Linda Williams, had over $6000 disappear from her account at Toronto Dominion Bank. The bank's initial refusal to restore the money (until I became involved) led me to investigate identity theft a bit.

The banking industry's position on the issue is to loudly adjure everybody not to write down PIN numbers. This is a smokescreen. Fraudsters are today applying known techniques that succeed against victims who don't make any such silly mistakes. But the tendency of banks when theft occurs is to make the customer eat the loss -- even though it's the deficient security of bank systems that's to blame. Banks will reimburse customers -- but only if they're noisy or embarrassing or threatening enough.

The banks' unethical practices are on public record in findings issued April 4, 2002 by the Privacy Commissioner of Canada. Excerpts:


Summary of Investigation

An RCMP investigation concluded that the complainant had been among the victims of a rash of fraud ensuing from thefts of credit cards and PINs during mail delivery in certain postal-code areas of a province.

The bank in question had a strict policy of demanding "due diligence" from its credit cardholders and of assuming, unless proven otherwise, that the individual was at fault for any compromised card or PIN. Pending the results of the RCMP investigation, the bank continued to hold the complainant liable for the charges in question and to press him for payment. The bank also notified two credit reporting agencies that he had not discharged the debt.

On receiving the RCMP's conclusion of fraud, the bank agreed that the complainant was not at fault, accepted its own liability for the fraud, restored the complainant's account to good standing, and corrected the derogatory history with the credit reporting agencies.

Even though he was satisfied with this outcome, the complainant pursued his complaint ... out of concern that others not have to suffer ... similar treatment from the bank. [...]

As a result of press coverage, six other victims of the same rash of fraud had contacted the complainant, including two other customers of the bank in question. In presenting his findings, the Commissioner was pleased to confirm that the bank had likewise compensated other victims for their losses and reversed their negative credit reports. He commended the complainant for his kind concern for his fellow victims, which had proved instrumental in resolving their problems.


The Commissioner is pleased. The fellow victims had their problems resolved. But in a less stupid, apathetic, complacent environment, there might occur some displeasure, since most victims don't have a savior at hand with a knack for rousing the somnolent press and thus threatening the banks.

I submitted a complaint myself to the Privacy Commissioner last July in which I described some of the specific techniques by which "criminals obtain the personal information of bank customers who are in no way careless or negligent. The criminals are able to do so because of the inadequacies of the systems which banks have set up and which they invite customers to use. The inadequacies are well known to the banking industry."

A mere six months later the Commissioner resolved the case neatly by ignoring what I'd stressed and reciting the banks' smokescreen position:


From: "Louise Labelle"
To: <uw@urielw.com>
Sent: Friday, January 10, 2003 3:09 AM

Dear Mr. Wittenberg:

I am writing in response to your correspondence to the Privacy Commissioner in which you expressed concern that the banking industry is inadequately safeguarding its customers' personal information.

Among the issues raised in your letter, you comment that the electronic, handheld payment devices used by retailers, in which customers swipe their bank cards and input their Personal Identification Numbers (PINs), are not secure and could result in fraudulent transactions and privacy breaches.

You believe that the issues and practices that you have raised contravene the Personal Information Protection and Electronic Documents Act (the Act). The Commissioner is, of course, concerned about how organizations protect the privacy of their clients and employees. However, in this instance, when the issue relates to the day-to-day usage of bank cards, the onus is on the individual - not a bank or retailer - to do everything possible to ensure the security of his or her PIN. As such, your concerns would be better addressed through heightened public awareness and not through the complaint process under the Act.

Notwithstanding this, you have raised some interesting issues that you may wish to pursue with other organizations, such as the Canadian Bankers Association. You may wish to bring your views to the attention of Ms. Deborah Evans, Advisor Consumer Affairs, at the following address ....

I would like to thank you for bringing your concerns to my attenti