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Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Submission Accomplished
Aasif Mandvi believes President Obama's bow to the Japanese emperor erases 60 years of American foreign policy.
Zhou Libo's distinctly Shanghai shtick
FOREIGN EXCHANGE
The Chinese comedian's use of 'Shanghainese' gives him flexibility that most Mandarin-speaking performers don't have -- the government in Beijing can't understand him. And his fan base is growing.
By Lauren Hilgers
November 25, 2009
Reporting from Shanghai
Zhou Libo is an impeccably dressed comedian.
His typical uniform, a black sport coat accented with a red handkerchief tucked into the breast pocket, looks just right as the 42-year-old comedian bursts onstage to the "James Bond" theme song, laser lights flashing and smoke machine on full blast.
"Everyone needs a theme song," he explained onstage this year, clutching a fake gun, staring through sunglasses at an adoring audience packed into Shanghai's Majestic Theater.
Zhou is Shanghai's homegrown rock star. Born and raised here, he began his career with a local comedy troupe before taking the stage on his own. His routines are filled with local humor and performed mainly in "Shanghainese" -- a local dialect with only a passing resemblance to Mandarin.
Zhou's choice of language has given him flexibility that most Mandarin-speaking comedians don't have because authorities in Beijing don't speak the dialect, and until now his limited audience has meant limited official interest.
Despite his Shanghainese, Zhou is gaining national fame. Fans scoop up his DVDs and buy tickets to his shows months in advance, responding to Zhou's dedication to the city of his birth and his willingness to speak frankly on topics as varied as Shanghai's storied past and the antics of China's top leaders.
"From the small, like the common people, to the big, like Obama, I'll talk about it all," said Zhou, facing reporters at a Shanghai hotel last month. That Shanghainese is understood by only a fraction of China's 1.3 billion people probably helps keep him out of trouble, because Zhou is practiced at making fun of leaders who, generally, don't take ridicule well.
"He has an uncanny ability to poke fun at all the present-day problems in China and the world," said Adam Schokora, founder of NeochaEdge, a Chinese culture and trend-spotting consultancy. "This is not easy to do well in China."
In one of his most famous skits, the comedian does an impersonation of China's premier, Wen Jiabao, with arched eyebrows and slow, high-pitched speech. "Wen Jiabao is my favorite government leader," Zhou declares, just before launching into his routine -- an impression of Wen at the scene of a natural disaster.
"Premier Wen finds the dirtiest person available to shake hands with," Zhou says, and then turns to his audience, eyebrows high, face serene. He slowly mimes a handshake. "My friend," he says in his slow, reedy Wen Jiabao voice, "we have come too late."
Though Zhou says no one is safe from parody, he does tread carefully.
"I respect the leaders," he said at last month's news conference. "I'm not making fun of them; I'm making fun of the whole world."
Zhou has coined the term "Haipai Qingkou," or "Shanghai-style clean talk," to describe what he does. His style strays from traditional Chinese comedy, or "cross-talk," which features two performers playing off each other. Haipai Qingkou is performed solo, and the jokes, delivered deadpan, emphasize Shanghai-specific stories.
In particular, Zhou loves to talk about how things have changed since the 1970s, touching on the poverty in Shanghai's past and covering topics that, until now, have been discussed mainly with embarrassment.
"He's talking about my generation and the generation before me," said Fish Zhou, a Shanghainese graphic designer who was born in the 1980s. "Some of his jokes are about things I can remember, and others are about the history of Shanghai, things I would like to learn."
Zhou's love of his hometown is emblematic of a city embracing its own personality, unique in China. As cities such as Shanghai become more affluent, they are becoming more confident in their identities. Many are revisiting local culture, and dialects are gaining a sheen of hipness. There also is more money to help support grass-roots performers.
Zhou is not the only one to have benefited. Other popular comedians, such as Guo Degang and Xiao Shenyang in northern China, have also relied on local audiences to build their national reputations.
Zhou's success in Shanghai is so great that he has turned down offers to perform at the annual Spring Festival Gala in Beijing, a television event famous for launching performers to national stardom.
"Zhou Libo will rarely leave Shanghai," he said, slipping into the third person. "If I leave Shanghai, it's basically the same as leaving the country."
This regionalism has not escaped criticism. Zhou has been accused in the Chinese press of driving a wedge between Shanghai and the rest of China. With the use of dialects on the rise, the central government has taken steps to limit their spread. China's broadcasting watchdog released a statement this summer demanding that dramas and children's shows be in Mandarin. News and TV presenters are required to pass tests on Mandarin pronunciation.
Zhou isn't deterred, however. "A language's development and extinction can't be controlled by the government."
The comedian also has other media to rely on; his popularity has been aided by the Internet and, as more people purchase cars, radio. With his DVD sales, a new live show and a new dictionary of funny Shanghainese words, Zhou is doing fine.
"Shanghai culture and language will change," he said. "But there will always be something to talk about."
Hilgers is a special correspondent.
Copyright © 2009, The Los Angeles Times
The Chinese comedian's use of 'Shanghainese' gives him flexibility that most Mandarin-speaking performers don't have -- the government in Beijing can't understand him. And his fan base is growing.
By Lauren Hilgers
November 25, 2009
Reporting from Shanghai
Zhou Libo is an impeccably dressed comedian.
His typical uniform, a black sport coat accented with a red handkerchief tucked into the breast pocket, looks just right as the 42-year-old comedian bursts onstage to the "James Bond" theme song, laser lights flashing and smoke machine on full blast.
"Everyone needs a theme song," he explained onstage this year, clutching a fake gun, staring through sunglasses at an adoring audience packed into Shanghai's Majestic Theater.
Zhou is Shanghai's homegrown rock star. Born and raised here, he began his career with a local comedy troupe before taking the stage on his own. His routines are filled with local humor and performed mainly in "Shanghainese" -- a local dialect with only a passing resemblance to Mandarin.
Zhou's choice of language has given him flexibility that most Mandarin-speaking comedians don't have because authorities in Beijing don't speak the dialect, and until now his limited audience has meant limited official interest.
Despite his Shanghainese, Zhou is gaining national fame. Fans scoop up his DVDs and buy tickets to his shows months in advance, responding to Zhou's dedication to the city of his birth and his willingness to speak frankly on topics as varied as Shanghai's storied past and the antics of China's top leaders.
"From the small, like the common people, to the big, like Obama, I'll talk about it all," said Zhou, facing reporters at a Shanghai hotel last month. That Shanghainese is understood by only a fraction of China's 1.3 billion people probably helps keep him out of trouble, because Zhou is practiced at making fun of leaders who, generally, don't take ridicule well.
"He has an uncanny ability to poke fun at all the present-day problems in China and the world," said Adam Schokora, founder of NeochaEdge, a Chinese culture and trend-spotting consultancy. "This is not easy to do well in China."
In one of his most famous skits, the comedian does an impersonation of China's premier, Wen Jiabao, with arched eyebrows and slow, high-pitched speech. "Wen Jiabao is my favorite government leader," Zhou declares, just before launching into his routine -- an impression of Wen at the scene of a natural disaster.
"Premier Wen finds the dirtiest person available to shake hands with," Zhou says, and then turns to his audience, eyebrows high, face serene. He slowly mimes a handshake. "My friend," he says in his slow, reedy Wen Jiabao voice, "we have come too late."
Though Zhou says no one is safe from parody, he does tread carefully.
"I respect the leaders," he said at last month's news conference. "I'm not making fun of them; I'm making fun of the whole world."
Zhou has coined the term "Haipai Qingkou," or "Shanghai-style clean talk," to describe what he does. His style strays from traditional Chinese comedy, or "cross-talk," which features two performers playing off each other. Haipai Qingkou is performed solo, and the jokes, delivered deadpan, emphasize Shanghai-specific stories.
In particular, Zhou loves to talk about how things have changed since the 1970s, touching on the poverty in Shanghai's past and covering topics that, until now, have been discussed mainly with embarrassment.
"He's talking about my generation and the generation before me," said Fish Zhou, a Shanghainese graphic designer who was born in the 1980s. "Some of his jokes are about things I can remember, and others are about the history of Shanghai, things I would like to learn."
Zhou's love of his hometown is emblematic of a city embracing its own personality, unique in China. As cities such as Shanghai become more affluent, they are becoming more confident in their identities. Many are revisiting local culture, and dialects are gaining a sheen of hipness. There also is more money to help support grass-roots performers.
Zhou is not the only one to have benefited. Other popular comedians, such as Guo Degang and Xiao Shenyang in northern China, have also relied on local audiences to build their national reputations.
Zhou's success in Shanghai is so great that he has turned down offers to perform at the annual Spring Festival Gala in Beijing, a television event famous for launching performers to national stardom.
"Zhou Libo will rarely leave Shanghai," he said, slipping into the third person. "If I leave Shanghai, it's basically the same as leaving the country."
This regionalism has not escaped criticism. Zhou has been accused in the Chinese press of driving a wedge between Shanghai and the rest of China. With the use of dialects on the rise, the central government has taken steps to limit their spread. China's broadcasting watchdog released a statement this summer demanding that dramas and children's shows be in Mandarin. News and TV presenters are required to pass tests on Mandarin pronunciation.
Zhou isn't deterred, however. "A language's development and extinction can't be controlled by the government."
The comedian also has other media to rely on; his popularity has been aided by the Internet and, as more people purchase cars, radio. With his DVD sales, a new live show and a new dictionary of funny Shanghainese words, Zhou is doing fine.
"Shanghai culture and language will change," he said. "But there will always be something to talk about."
Hilgers is a special correspondent.
Copyright © 2009, The Los Angeles Times
Autumn colors of Kyoto
Yesterday morning, “Mezamashi TV” had a live broadcast from Kiyomizu-dera in Kyoto, where the autumn foliage is now at its peak viewing period:
Mr. Vice Guy
Monday, Nov. 02, 2009
By Pico Iyer
Yakuza gang bosses in Japan give interviews on TV, dine openly with politicians and traditionally hand out business cards, so everyone knows how to find them. Roughly 40,000 mobsters belong to the Yamaguchi-gumi alone. Everybody knows that the yakuza get money from bars and restaurants, construction companies, even private-detective agencies. But these days some of their principal businesses include securities trading and management consulting. They are increasingly, Jake Adelstein tells us in his gripping descent into the underworld, Tokyo Vice, like bankers "with guns."
Adelstein should know. As a rare foreigner working the crime beat at the Yomiuri Shimbun, Japan's (and the world's) largest-circulation newspaper, he got so close to the yakuza that he found himself buying cigarettes for former gang leaders and being guarded round the clock by a fiercely loyal retired crime boss. This all seems like an unlikely fate for a "goofy Jewish-American" in mismatched socks, as Adelstein presents himself, but his juicy and vividly detailed account of investigations into the shadowy side of Japan shows him to be more enterprising, determined and crazy than most. One assignment saw him teaching English at a Maid Station massage parlor (so-called because female employees are dressed to look like French maids); another moved him to impersonate an Iranian to try to catch an Iranian believed to be a murder suspect. It wasn't a long step between that and hearing a mobster say things like "Either erase the story, or we'll erase you."
Adelstein arrived in Japan as a teenager, eager, as many foreigners are, to learn about Buddhism, tranquility and the nuances of Japanese. But soon after, he applied for — and, astonishingly, secured — a job with the Yomiuri in 1992 as a Japanese-language reporter. In some of the freshest pages of the book, our unlikely hero tells us about his initiation into the seamy, tough-guy Japan beneath the public courtesies, a racy world filled with reporters given names like Chuckles and Googly. He digs up details in "the Chichibu Snack-mama murder case." He sleeps with a yakuza's moll who has a dragon tattoo on her back.
Adelstein builds his stories with as much surprise and grit as any Al Pacino or Mark Wahlberg movie, blurring the lines between the cops, the crooks and even the journalists. "You and I are in the same business," a gangster tells Adelstein early on. "We're in the information industry." As the kid from Missouri begins to disappear deeper and deeper into the demimonde — sleeping in police HQ, drawing dangerously close to a hostess who works at the Den of Delicious and taking on the gangs responsible for human-trafficking in Japan — he comes to lose all sense of where his life ends and the 8th Circle of Hell strip club begins. As a mobster's mistress (she is one of 15) notes, Adelstein is almost a twin to her criminal lover: "You're both workaholics, with high libidos, adrenaline junkies and shameless womanizers."
Much like that line, the dialogue in Tokyo Vice is often so snappy and quotable that it sounds as if it were a treatment for a Scorsese movie set in Queens. "The word isn't victim — it's sucker," one made man pronounces. A cop is described as saying, in English, "Please go get me some smokes, angel." Yet the facts beneath the noirish lines are assembled with what looks to be ferocious diligence and resourcefulness. For even as he is getting slapped around by thugs and placed under police protection, Adelstein never loses his gift for crisp storytelling and an unexpectedly earnest eagerness to try to rescue the damned. "You're stupid, obtuse, stubborn and reckless," a hood he calls Cyclops tells him at a clandestine meeting in a transit lounge at Hong Kong's airport, "but at the end of the day, I guess that's what makes a good journo."
By Pico Iyer
Yakuza gang bosses in Japan give interviews on TV, dine openly with politicians and traditionally hand out business cards, so everyone knows how to find them. Roughly 40,000 mobsters belong to the Yamaguchi-gumi alone. Everybody knows that the yakuza get money from bars and restaurants, construction companies, even private-detective agencies. But these days some of their principal businesses include securities trading and management consulting. They are increasingly, Jake Adelstein tells us in his gripping descent into the underworld, Tokyo Vice, like bankers "with guns."
Adelstein should know. As a rare foreigner working the crime beat at the Yomiuri Shimbun, Japan's (and the world's) largest-circulation newspaper, he got so close to the yakuza that he found himself buying cigarettes for former gang leaders and being guarded round the clock by a fiercely loyal retired crime boss. This all seems like an unlikely fate for a "goofy Jewish-American" in mismatched socks, as Adelstein presents himself, but his juicy and vividly detailed account of investigations into the shadowy side of Japan shows him to be more enterprising, determined and crazy than most. One assignment saw him teaching English at a Maid Station massage parlor (so-called because female employees are dressed to look like French maids); another moved him to impersonate an Iranian to try to catch an Iranian believed to be a murder suspect. It wasn't a long step between that and hearing a mobster say things like "Either erase the story, or we'll erase you."
Adelstein arrived in Japan as a teenager, eager, as many foreigners are, to learn about Buddhism, tranquility and the nuances of Japanese. But soon after, he applied for — and, astonishingly, secured — a job with the Yomiuri in 1992 as a Japanese-language reporter. In some of the freshest pages of the book, our unlikely hero tells us about his initiation into the seamy, tough-guy Japan beneath the public courtesies, a racy world filled with reporters given names like Chuckles and Googly. He digs up details in "the Chichibu Snack-mama murder case." He sleeps with a yakuza's moll who has a dragon tattoo on her back.
Adelstein builds his stories with as much surprise and grit as any Al Pacino or Mark Wahlberg movie, blurring the lines between the cops, the crooks and even the journalists. "You and I are in the same business," a gangster tells Adelstein early on. "We're in the information industry." As the kid from Missouri begins to disappear deeper and deeper into the demimonde — sleeping in police HQ, drawing dangerously close to a hostess who works at the Den of Delicious and taking on the gangs responsible for human-trafficking in Japan — he comes to lose all sense of where his life ends and the 8th Circle of Hell strip club begins. As a mobster's mistress (she is one of 15) notes, Adelstein is almost a twin to her criminal lover: "You're both workaholics, with high libidos, adrenaline junkies and shameless womanizers."
Much like that line, the dialogue in Tokyo Vice is often so snappy and quotable that it sounds as if it were a treatment for a Scorsese movie set in Queens. "The word isn't victim — it's sucker," one made man pronounces. A cop is described as saying, in English, "Please go get me some smokes, angel." Yet the facts beneath the noirish lines are assembled with what looks to be ferocious diligence and resourcefulness. For even as he is getting slapped around by thugs and placed under police protection, Adelstein never loses his gift for crisp storytelling and an unexpectedly earnest eagerness to try to rescue the damned. "You're stupid, obtuse, stubborn and reckless," a hood he calls Cyclops tells him at a clandestine meeting in a transit lounge at Hong Kong's airport, "but at the end of the day, I guess that's what makes a good journo."
Japan Then and Now Photo Essay
In 1989, Japan reveled in excess and seemed poised to rule the world. Twenty years later, the Japanese economy has been looking down for so long it's hard to remember the days when salarymen and capsule hotels captured the world's imagination.
"Nobu" Fever: Japan Falls for a Blind Piano Prodigy
Wednesday, Nov. 18, 2009
By Yuki Oda
As Nobuyuki Tsujii finished the last note of Andante spianato et Grande Polonaise brillante by Chopin, the packed audience in Tokyo's Kioi Hall broke into an emotional applause. Executing each piece with energy and concentration, the 21-year-old classical pianist, who has been blind since birth, mesmerized the typically reserved Tokyo crowd in a two-hour solo performance on his latest tour. Kumi Araki, a 25-year-old from downtown Toyko, gushed. "I am so moved. Before I knew it, I was standing to applaud!" she says, wiping at tears.
Backstage, Tsujii's fans surrounded him to congratulate another great performance. Dramatically different from his stage persona, the soft-spoken and laid-back musician says, "Everywhere I go on this tour, people's reaction is amazing." After Tsujii won the Gold Medal at the prestigious Van Cliburn International Competition in Fort Worth, Texas, in June, the young performer has been launched into the unfamiliar world of Japanese mega-stardom. The sales of his first album debut, together with his second album and a live DVD, have sold hundreds of thousands of copies, and the interview requests flooded in. Tsujii, the first Japanese winner of the competition, says he rarely has time to go to his school now, or to meet friends. "The medal is a bit of a burden," he admits, "But I enjoy playing in front of people, so I try to give a good performance every time." (See pictures taken by blind photographers.)
Japan, it seems, has got itself a case of Nobu Fever, the latest object of affection in a culture that regularly gets obsessed en masse with everything from fad diets to Haruki Murakami's latest book. And while this kind of fame may be new for the artist, life as a concert pianist is not. Tsujii's talent for music was discovered by his mother, when, at eight months, she says he repeatedly urged her to play a CD of Chopin's Polonaise Op.53. Soon after, his parents gave him a toy piano, and he started lessons before he was two. At 10, he debuted on stage with a professional orchestra. Masahiro Kawakami, who taught Tsujii for 12 years, is amazed at his pupil's unstoppable charisma. "He has a strong desire to strike a beautiful note, and this conviction that things will go well. His music has a power to make people happy."
By day, Tsujii is a junior at Ueno Gakuen University, a music school in Tokyo. The round-faced, stout Tokyoite — he says he takes after his dad, except for the fingers — likes karaoke and swimming, and would like to find a nice girlfriend soon. Pretty ordinary stuff for a college student, but once Tsujii sits in front of a piano, he transforms. Classical music critic Yukiko Hagiya calls his sound "pure and crystal-clear. It communicates his joy of performing to an audience." Michel Beroff, one of the jurors for the Cliburn Competition told the monthly piano magazine Chopin, "The special thing about his performance is his sound. It has depth, color and contrast, the genuine music."
Certainly, being blind hasn't made it easy. Tsujii can use Braille music scores to learn new pieces, but this kind of translation is usually done by volunteers. Because demand is so low, the variety of scores available does not meet the needs of a professional performer, so Tsujii has devised his own method. A team of pianists records scores along with specific codes and instructions written by composers, which Tsujii listens to and practices until he learns and perfects each piece. Yukio Yokoyama, Tsujii's current professor says, "Usually people learn by observing how others use their fingers, their bodies and their breaths, but he can only touch and feel."
Tsujii hopes one day to shake the label of being Japan's "blind" pianist. "When I was small, I realized I was blind, but at the same time I said, 'But I can play the piano, so it's okay.' I'd like everyone to think that I am simply a pianist." He'll have his chance: As the winner of the Cliburn Competition, he is booked to perform worldwide for the next three years. "I am only at the starting line," he says. "I'd like to become a fine musician and play the piano as long as l live."
By Yuki Oda
As Nobuyuki Tsujii finished the last note of Andante spianato et Grande Polonaise brillante by Chopin, the packed audience in Tokyo's Kioi Hall broke into an emotional applause. Executing each piece with energy and concentration, the 21-year-old classical pianist, who has been blind since birth, mesmerized the typically reserved Tokyo crowd in a two-hour solo performance on his latest tour. Kumi Araki, a 25-year-old from downtown Toyko, gushed. "I am so moved. Before I knew it, I was standing to applaud!" she says, wiping at tears.
Backstage, Tsujii's fans surrounded him to congratulate another great performance. Dramatically different from his stage persona, the soft-spoken and laid-back musician says, "Everywhere I go on this tour, people's reaction is amazing." After Tsujii won the Gold Medal at the prestigious Van Cliburn International Competition in Fort Worth, Texas, in June, the young performer has been launched into the unfamiliar world of Japanese mega-stardom. The sales of his first album debut, together with his second album and a live DVD, have sold hundreds of thousands of copies, and the interview requests flooded in. Tsujii, the first Japanese winner of the competition, says he rarely has time to go to his school now, or to meet friends. "The medal is a bit of a burden," he admits, "But I enjoy playing in front of people, so I try to give a good performance every time." (See pictures taken by blind photographers.)
Japan, it seems, has got itself a case of Nobu Fever, the latest object of affection in a culture that regularly gets obsessed en masse with everything from fad diets to Haruki Murakami's latest book. And while this kind of fame may be new for the artist, life as a concert pianist is not. Tsujii's talent for music was discovered by his mother, when, at eight months, she says he repeatedly urged her to play a CD of Chopin's Polonaise Op.53. Soon after, his parents gave him a toy piano, and he started lessons before he was two. At 10, he debuted on stage with a professional orchestra. Masahiro Kawakami, who taught Tsujii for 12 years, is amazed at his pupil's unstoppable charisma. "He has a strong desire to strike a beautiful note, and this conviction that things will go well. His music has a power to make people happy."
By day, Tsujii is a junior at Ueno Gakuen University, a music school in Tokyo. The round-faced, stout Tokyoite — he says he takes after his dad, except for the fingers — likes karaoke and swimming, and would like to find a nice girlfriend soon. Pretty ordinary stuff for a college student, but once Tsujii sits in front of a piano, he transforms. Classical music critic Yukiko Hagiya calls his sound "pure and crystal-clear. It communicates his joy of performing to an audience." Michel Beroff, one of the jurors for the Cliburn Competition told the monthly piano magazine Chopin, "The special thing about his performance is his sound. It has depth, color and contrast, the genuine music."
Certainly, being blind hasn't made it easy. Tsujii can use Braille music scores to learn new pieces, but this kind of translation is usually done by volunteers. Because demand is so low, the variety of scores available does not meet the needs of a professional performer, so Tsujii has devised his own method. A team of pianists records scores along with specific codes and instructions written by composers, which Tsujii listens to and practices until he learns and perfects each piece. Yukio Yokoyama, Tsujii's current professor says, "Usually people learn by observing how others use their fingers, their bodies and their breaths, but he can only touch and feel."
Tsujii hopes one day to shake the label of being Japan's "blind" pianist. "When I was small, I realized I was blind, but at the same time I said, 'But I can play the piano, so it's okay.' I'd like everyone to think that I am simply a pianist." He'll have his chance: As the winner of the Cliburn Competition, he is booked to perform worldwide for the next three years. "I am only at the starting line," he says. "I'd like to become a fine musician and play the piano as long as l live."
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=120737889&ft=1&f=1004
by The Associated Press
November 23, 2009
A veteran dissident was sentenced to three years in prison after casting a spotlight on poorly built schools that collapsed and killed thousands of children during China's massive earthquake last year — an apparent government attempt to squelch such information.
Huang Qi, founder of a human rights Web site, had been charged with illegally possessing state secrets, his wife Zeng Li said Monday by telephone. His detention in June 2008 came after several posts on his blog that criticized the government's response to the massive earthquake that struck Sichuan province a month earlier and killed about 90,000 people.
Huang, 46, had alleged that state-controlled media provided skewed reports on relief efforts and accused the government of obstructing the work of non-governmental organizations responding to the disaster, according to reports at the time by Paris-based monitoring group Reporters Without Borders.
"The government is using its propaganda to portray itself as a savior to little avail," the group quoted him as saying in one Web posting.
Huang had also spoken to foreign media outlets about parents' accusations that their children had been crushed in badly built schools. The government has attempted to quash such complaints, fearing the contentious issue could undermine the admiration and goodwill it earned for the massive rescue effort it led, boosted by volunteers and international aid.
But activists and parents — many of whom lost their only children in the quake — have repeatedly demanded those responsible for the shoddy construction be punished and called for an inquiry. Those seeking to press the issue have been detained, harassed and threatened by police and thugs believed to be in the employ of local officials.
Huang's sentencing Monday appeared to be one more attempt at silencing the discussion.
Officials contend the sheer force of the 7.9-magnitude quake alone caused school buildings to collapse, ignoring evidence showing that schools were often the only ones to crumble in many parts of the quake zone while nearby buildings survived.
In May, just days before the one-year anniversary of the quake, China gave the first official tally of students' deaths from the temblor, saying 5,335 were killed or remained missing.
Zeng, Huang's wife, said the Wuhou district court in the western city of Chengdu gave no details about the state secrets charge, an ill-defined accusation often used by Communist leaders to clamp down on dissent and imprison activists. Because of the charge, authorities were able to bar Huang from seeing his lawyer and forbid the photocopying of court documents, rights group Amnesty International said.
Zeng said the court refused to issue a written account of the sentence, leaving her at least temporarily without the necessary documentation to file an appeal.
"And we definitely plan to appeal," said Zeng, who was unable to speak with Huang after the sentencing because he was led directly from the court.
Calls to the court and Huang's lawyers rang unanswered Monday.
The sentence could give grist to critics of President Barack Obama, who faulted him for not being more outspoken on human rights during his visit to China last week. While Obama raised the topics of universal rights and Internet freedom, he largely avoided the appearance of lecturing his hosts over such issues, something Beijing has responded to in past with indignation.
In a statement, Amnesty International called for Huang's immediate release, saying he was being punished merely for helping illuminate the tribulations of families whose children died in the earthquake.
"He should never have been detained in the first place and should be released immediately," the group's Asia-Pacific director, Sam Zarifi, was quoted as saying in the statement.
Amnesty said several supporters who asked to attend the sentencing were turned away and beaten by police who ringed the courthouse. It gave no details, and their identities were not immediately known.
Huang has already served a five-year prison sentence on subversion charges linked to politically sensitive articles posted on his Web site.
Since his release in 2005, Huang has supported a wide range of causes, including aiding families of those killed in the 1989 military crackdown on pro-democracy protests in Beijing's Tiananmen Square and publicizing the complaints of farmers involved in land disputes with authorities.
November 23, 2009
A veteran dissident was sentenced to three years in prison after casting a spotlight on poorly built schools that collapsed and killed thousands of children during China's massive earthquake last year — an apparent government attempt to squelch such information.
Huang Qi, founder of a human rights Web site, had been charged with illegally possessing state secrets, his wife Zeng Li said Monday by telephone. His detention in June 2008 came after several posts on his blog that criticized the government's response to the massive earthquake that struck Sichuan province a month earlier and killed about 90,000 people.
Huang, 46, had alleged that state-controlled media provided skewed reports on relief efforts and accused the government of obstructing the work of non-governmental organizations responding to the disaster, according to reports at the time by Paris-based monitoring group Reporters Without Borders.
"The government is using its propaganda to portray itself as a savior to little avail," the group quoted him as saying in one Web posting.
Huang had also spoken to foreign media outlets about parents' accusations that their children had been crushed in badly built schools. The government has attempted to quash such complaints, fearing the contentious issue could undermine the admiration and goodwill it earned for the massive rescue effort it led, boosted by volunteers and international aid.
But activists and parents — many of whom lost their only children in the quake — have repeatedly demanded those responsible for the shoddy construction be punished and called for an inquiry. Those seeking to press the issue have been detained, harassed and threatened by police and thugs believed to be in the employ of local officials.
Huang's sentencing Monday appeared to be one more attempt at silencing the discussion.
Officials contend the sheer force of the 7.9-magnitude quake alone caused school buildings to collapse, ignoring evidence showing that schools were often the only ones to crumble in many parts of the quake zone while nearby buildings survived.
In May, just days before the one-year anniversary of the quake, China gave the first official tally of students' deaths from the temblor, saying 5,335 were killed or remained missing.
Zeng, Huang's wife, said the Wuhou district court in the western city of Chengdu gave no details about the state secrets charge, an ill-defined accusation often used by Communist leaders to clamp down on dissent and imprison activists. Because of the charge, authorities were able to bar Huang from seeing his lawyer and forbid the photocopying of court documents, rights group Amnesty International said.
Zeng said the court refused to issue a written account of the sentence, leaving her at least temporarily without the necessary documentation to file an appeal.
"And we definitely plan to appeal," said Zeng, who was unable to speak with Huang after the sentencing because he was led directly from the court.
Calls to the court and Huang's lawyers rang unanswered Monday.
The sentence could give grist to critics of President Barack Obama, who faulted him for not being more outspoken on human rights during his visit to China last week. While Obama raised the topics of universal rights and Internet freedom, he largely avoided the appearance of lecturing his hosts over such issues, something Beijing has responded to in past with indignation.
In a statement, Amnesty International called for Huang's immediate release, saying he was being punished merely for helping illuminate the tribulations of families whose children died in the earthquake.
"He should never have been detained in the first place and should be released immediately," the group's Asia-Pacific director, Sam Zarifi, was quoted as saying in the statement.
Amnesty said several supporters who asked to attend the sentencing were turned away and beaten by police who ringed the courthouse. It gave no details, and their identities were not immediately known.
Huang has already served a five-year prison sentence on subversion charges linked to politically sensitive articles posted on his Web site.
Since his release in 2005, Huang has supported a wide range of causes, including aiding families of those killed in the 1989 military crackdown on pro-democracy protests in Beijing's Tiananmen Square and publicizing the complaints of farmers involved in land disputes with authorities.
China Executes 2 For Role In Tainted Milk Scandal
by The Associated Press
November 24, 2009
China executed two people Tuesday for their roles in a tainted milk powder scandal in which at least six children died and more than 300,000 became sick.
Zhang Yujun was executed for endangering public safety and Geng Jinping was executed for producing and selling toxic food, according to the official Xinhua News Agency.
Their sentences were upheld in March by an appellate court in the northern city of Shijiazhuang. China requires death sentences to receive final approval from the Supreme People's Court in Beijing, after which most are carried out by lethal injection.
Xinhua said news of the execution had been issued by the Shijiazhuang Municipal Intermediate People's Court, although a court clerk who answered the phone Tuesday said he was unable to confirm the sentences had been carried out.
The case was one of China's worst-ever food safety scandals, involving tainting of infant formula with the industrial chemical melamine, which can cause kidney stones and kidney failure.
Melamine, used in the manufacture of plastics and fertilizer, was added to watered-down milk to fool inspectors testing for protein, and to boost profits.
Zhang, a cattle farmer, and Geng both had been convicted of producing and selling a phony protein powder containing melamine, much of it to producers who sold tainted milk to the now-defunct Sanlu Group Co., at the time one of China's biggest dairies. Geng's brother, Geng Jinzhu, was given eight years and his sentence was upheld Thursday.
In all 21 people were tried and sentenced in January over the scandal, including Sanlu's general manager, Tian Wenhua, who was given a life sentence after pleading guilty to charges of producing and selling fake or substandard products.
Three other former Sanlu executives were given between five years and 15 years in prison. A total of 21 defendants were being sentenced Thursday in connection with the case.
The harsh sentences underscored the government's resolve in tackling recurring food safety problems and an eagerness by the communist leadership to move past the embarrassing scandal.
However, no public investigation was ever made into accusations that news of the melamine tainting was suppressed ahead of last year's Beijing Olympic Games because the government did not want it overshadowing the prestigious event.
November 24, 2009
China executed two people Tuesday for their roles in a tainted milk powder scandal in which at least six children died and more than 300,000 became sick.
Zhang Yujun was executed for endangering public safety and Geng Jinping was executed for producing and selling toxic food, according to the official Xinhua News Agency.
Their sentences were upheld in March by an appellate court in the northern city of Shijiazhuang. China requires death sentences to receive final approval from the Supreme People's Court in Beijing, after which most are carried out by lethal injection.
Xinhua said news of the execution had been issued by the Shijiazhuang Municipal Intermediate People's Court, although a court clerk who answered the phone Tuesday said he was unable to confirm the sentences had been carried out.
The case was one of China's worst-ever food safety scandals, involving tainting of infant formula with the industrial chemical melamine, which can cause kidney stones and kidney failure.
Melamine, used in the manufacture of plastics and fertilizer, was added to watered-down milk to fool inspectors testing for protein, and to boost profits.
Zhang, a cattle farmer, and Geng both had been convicted of producing and selling a phony protein powder containing melamine, much of it to producers who sold tainted milk to the now-defunct Sanlu Group Co., at the time one of China's biggest dairies. Geng's brother, Geng Jinzhu, was given eight years and his sentence was upheld Thursday.
In all 21 people were tried and sentenced in January over the scandal, including Sanlu's general manager, Tian Wenhua, who was given a life sentence after pleading guilty to charges of producing and selling fake or substandard products.
Three other former Sanlu executives were given between five years and 15 years in prison. A total of 21 defendants were being sentenced Thursday in connection with the case.
The harsh sentences underscored the government's resolve in tackling recurring food safety problems and an eagerness by the communist leadership to move past the embarrassing scandal.
However, no public investigation was ever made into accusations that news of the melamine tainting was suppressed ahead of last year's Beijing Olympic Games because the government did not want it overshadowing the prestigious event.
In China, Creating A Menagerie Through Mimicry
November 24, 2009
In China, professional mimics used to imitate sounds as a form of entertainment. Not many practitioners are left, but the descendant of one master is trying to preserve the art.
At the end of the last imperial dynasty in the early 20th century, Cheng Kuan fell on hard times. He eked out a living as a street performer among the musicians and storytellers, contortionists and strongmen of Beijing's Tianqiao neighborhood. He performed a combination of acrobatics, magic and martial arts. But his specialty was mimicry, particularly imitating animal noises.
Cheng's grandson, Cheng Jiaqiang, remembers learning a wide range of skills from his grandfather.
"When I was 7 years old, my grandfather would wake me and my brother up at 4:30 in the morning to practice our basic skills, such as handstands," he says during an interview in his apartment. "My grandfather's skill was superb."
Cheng's ancestors were Manchu bodyguards in the imperial court. With his heavyset physique, Cheng looks like he'd make a good bodyguard, too. In fact, he works for a state-run arts troupe.
Like a martial-arts master, Chen says his power is rooted in his dan tian, an acupressure point in his lower abdomen. As he summons his energy, his torso contracts, his mouth opens, and out comes the "cluck, cluck, cluck" of an agitated hen.
"To be a good mimic, you need a skinny tongue that can move left and right, up and down, clockwise and counter clockwise," he explains. "You have to practice until it's really agile. Like imitating a galloping horse — you make that sound by flicking your tongue."
Cheng continues through his barnyard repertoire: squawking geese, bleating sheep and croaking frogs.
But the Cheng family's real strength is bird songs, especially those of the thrushes and larks that elderly Beijingers carry to local parks in ornate wood and brass cages. Cheng tweets out a convincing high-pitched duet with his brother.
Cheng's art is in danger of dying out. From 1966 to 1976, during the Cultural Revolution, traditional art forms such as mimicry were banned, as were the master-disciple relations that kept them alive.
The master-disciple relationship is by nature conservative. It ensures that an art will not be widely taught. Cheng says the idea is to pass on your skills only to individuals whose talent, commitment and integrity will do justice to the art.
"Accepting a disciple is different from having a class with students," he says. "Most people don't have what it takes — lips, teeth, throat, tongue and nose. I'm very strict about this. You have to really love mimicry. You have to treat it like a job."
"It's not just playing around," he emphasizes.
Cheng has just accepted his first disciple, an earnest-looking young man named Jiao Jian. Jiao says he practices his skills for two hours a day and is happy to be making progress under his master's guidance.
"At first, practicing was quite lonely. I was just at home, making noises. But after a while, birds outside my home — especially magpies — would start chirping along with me," Jiao says
Cheng concludes with his signature act. He puts some Chinese folk music on in the background. Then he mimics a bird mimicking a musician — who is imitating a bird.
In China, professional mimics used to imitate sounds as a form of entertainment. Not many practitioners are left, but the descendant of one master is trying to preserve the art.
At the end of the last imperial dynasty in the early 20th century, Cheng Kuan fell on hard times. He eked out a living as a street performer among the musicians and storytellers, contortionists and strongmen of Beijing's Tianqiao neighborhood. He performed a combination of acrobatics, magic and martial arts. But his specialty was mimicry, particularly imitating animal noises.
Cheng's grandson, Cheng Jiaqiang, remembers learning a wide range of skills from his grandfather.
"When I was 7 years old, my grandfather would wake me and my brother up at 4:30 in the morning to practice our basic skills, such as handstands," he says during an interview in his apartment. "My grandfather's skill was superb."
Cheng's ancestors were Manchu bodyguards in the imperial court. With his heavyset physique, Cheng looks like he'd make a good bodyguard, too. In fact, he works for a state-run arts troupe.
Like a martial-arts master, Chen says his power is rooted in his dan tian, an acupressure point in his lower abdomen. As he summons his energy, his torso contracts, his mouth opens, and out comes the "cluck, cluck, cluck" of an agitated hen.
"To be a good mimic, you need a skinny tongue that can move left and right, up and down, clockwise and counter clockwise," he explains. "You have to practice until it's really agile. Like imitating a galloping horse — you make that sound by flicking your tongue."
Cheng continues through his barnyard repertoire: squawking geese, bleating sheep and croaking frogs.
But the Cheng family's real strength is bird songs, especially those of the thrushes and larks that elderly Beijingers carry to local parks in ornate wood and brass cages. Cheng tweets out a convincing high-pitched duet with his brother.
Cheng's art is in danger of dying out. From 1966 to 1976, during the Cultural Revolution, traditional art forms such as mimicry were banned, as were the master-disciple relations that kept them alive.
The master-disciple relationship is by nature conservative. It ensures that an art will not be widely taught. Cheng says the idea is to pass on your skills only to individuals whose talent, commitment and integrity will do justice to the art.
"Accepting a disciple is different from having a class with students," he says. "Most people don't have what it takes — lips, teeth, throat, tongue and nose. I'm very strict about this. You have to really love mimicry. You have to treat it like a job."
"It's not just playing around," he emphasizes.
Cheng has just accepted his first disciple, an earnest-looking young man named Jiao Jian. Jiao says he practices his skills for two hours a day and is happy to be making progress under his master's guidance.
"At first, practicing was quite lonely. I was just at home, making noises. But after a while, birds outside my home — especially magpies — would start chirping along with me," Jiao says
Cheng concludes with his signature act. He puts some Chinese folk music on in the background. Then he mimics a bird mimicking a musician — who is imitating a bird.
In Japan, 'Herbivore' Boys Subvert Ideas Of Manhood
November 25, 2009
The sensitive New Age man has finally arrived in the land of the salaryman. But there is a catch — a particularly important one in Japan, where the declining birthrate has caused alarm: The new Japanese man doesn't appear to be interested in women or sex.
In Tokyo on the weekends, the trendy area of Harajuku is a melting pot of urban tribes: Lolita goths bat their fake eyelashes, while the punks glower.
Away from the strutting are the retiring wallflowers, a quiet army of sweet young men with floppy hair and skinny jeans. These young men are becoming known as Japan's "herbivores" — from the Japanese phrase for "grass-eating boys" — guys who are heterosexual but who say they aren't really interested in matters of the flesh.
They are drawn to a quieter, less competitive life, focusing on family and friends — and eschewing the macho ways of the traditional Japanese male.
They include men such as Yukihiro Yoshida, a 20-something economics student, who is a self-confessed herbivore. "I don't take initiative with women, I don't talk to them," he says, blushing. "I'd welcome it if a girl talked to me, but I never take the first step myself."
Multiple recent surveys suggest that about 60 percent of young Japanese men — in their 20s and early 30s — identify themselves as herbivores. Their Sex and the City is a television show called Otomen, or Girly Guys. The lead character is a martial arts expert, the manliest guy in the whole school. But his secret passions include sewing, baking and crocheting clothes for his stuffed animals.
"I will hide my true nature," he vows in the first episode, as he sews secretly, shut away in his living room. "At all times, I will be a man — a real Japanese man," he says.
But what does that mean?
"It's not so much that men are becoming more like women. It's that the concept of masculinity is changing," says Katsuhiko Kokobun. From his perch at Guzzle, the popular Harajuku hair salon he owns, Kokobun is at the front line of the latest trends.
Over the years, he has seen more and more men coming into the salon — men who he describes as "more modest, less demanding, kind of passive; they accept what they're told." He's noticed that nowadays they're demanding more traditionally female treatments. "We do have eyebrow plucking and facials for men," he says, smiling. "Eyebrow plucking is very popular among high school boys."
It is, perhaps, no coincidence that Yasuhito Sekine's eyebrows are perfectly groomed. The changing tastes of Japanese men are quite literally what take up his days. He works for an Internet service provider and operates Sweets Club, an online group for men who like desserts. Set up in January, it already has about 1,000 members who congregate — online and in person — to debate the virtues of different brands of strawberry shortcake. It's something that Sekine says would have been unthinkable 20 years ago.
"Back then, lots of men liked desserts, but it was considered uncool. Cool men had to like alcohol or spicy food. I've discovered my father likes eating dessert, but he never showed it in the past," Sekine says.
Put through his paces with an impromptu taste test, Sekine praises peach gelatin as fresh-tasting. He is not so keen on coffee gelatin with cream — a macho dessert if ever there was one — labeling it "retro." He believes his dessert club shows that young Japanese men are asserting their individuality, reflecting a change in values from Japan's booming 1980s.
"Back then, Japanese men had to be passionate and aggressive, but now those characteristics are disliked. Our members have very mild personalities. They simply enjoy what they like without prejudice. They are not limited by expectations," Sekine says.
Japan's top expert on herbivores, Maki Fukasawa, believes they were born from the lost decade of economic stagnation. She christened the tribe in 2006 and recently wrote a book called The Herbivore Generation, which breaks herbivores down into 23 distinct subcategories. She argues that the herbivores are rebelling against the salaryman generation of their fathers, consciously turning away from the macho mores and conspicuous consumption of that era.
"They have some feelings of revulsion towards the older generation," says Fukasawa. "They don't want to have the same lives. And the impact of the herbivores on the economy is very big. They're such big news now because sales are down, especially of status products like cars and alcohol."
She says the advent of the herbivores could bring positive changes. Herbivores may lack ambition, but they are driven by a strong sense of community and family, which she believes many of them lacked while growing up.
"In a sense, their fathers neglected their families. They were involved in Japanese-style salaryman lifestyles, going out with their bosses every night, while herbivores are closer to their families and friends," Fukasawa says.
But there are fears about the financial and social impact of herbivores. Their low levels of spending and lack of interest in sex invoke two of Japan's biggest problems: its lackluster economy and declining birthrate. Herbivores like to be friends with women — but for many, that's as far as it goes.
In the streets of Harajuku, Alex Fujita explains why he is not interested in taking it any further.
"Nowadays, women have more education and enjoy working. Women are scary now," he says.
And, of course, there is a name, too, for the economically empowered working Japanese women who know what they want: the carnivore women. With herbivore boys and carnivore girls, it seems the land of samurai, sumo wrestlers and geisha girls is remaking its gender landscape anew.
The sensitive New Age man has finally arrived in the land of the salaryman. But there is a catch — a particularly important one in Japan, where the declining birthrate has caused alarm: The new Japanese man doesn't appear to be interested in women or sex.
In Tokyo on the weekends, the trendy area of Harajuku is a melting pot of urban tribes: Lolita goths bat their fake eyelashes, while the punks glower.
Away from the strutting are the retiring wallflowers, a quiet army of sweet young men with floppy hair and skinny jeans. These young men are becoming known as Japan's "herbivores" — from the Japanese phrase for "grass-eating boys" — guys who are heterosexual but who say they aren't really interested in matters of the flesh.
They are drawn to a quieter, less competitive life, focusing on family and friends — and eschewing the macho ways of the traditional Japanese male.
They include men such as Yukihiro Yoshida, a 20-something economics student, who is a self-confessed herbivore. "I don't take initiative with women, I don't talk to them," he says, blushing. "I'd welcome it if a girl talked to me, but I never take the first step myself."
Multiple recent surveys suggest that about 60 percent of young Japanese men — in their 20s and early 30s — identify themselves as herbivores. Their Sex and the City is a television show called Otomen, or Girly Guys. The lead character is a martial arts expert, the manliest guy in the whole school. But his secret passions include sewing, baking and crocheting clothes for his stuffed animals.
"I will hide my true nature," he vows in the first episode, as he sews secretly, shut away in his living room. "At all times, I will be a man — a real Japanese man," he says.
But what does that mean?
"It's not so much that men are becoming more like women. It's that the concept of masculinity is changing," says Katsuhiko Kokobun. From his perch at Guzzle, the popular Harajuku hair salon he owns, Kokobun is at the front line of the latest trends.
Over the years, he has seen more and more men coming into the salon — men who he describes as "more modest, less demanding, kind of passive; they accept what they're told." He's noticed that nowadays they're demanding more traditionally female treatments. "We do have eyebrow plucking and facials for men," he says, smiling. "Eyebrow plucking is very popular among high school boys."
It is, perhaps, no coincidence that Yasuhito Sekine's eyebrows are perfectly groomed. The changing tastes of Japanese men are quite literally what take up his days. He works for an Internet service provider and operates Sweets Club, an online group for men who like desserts. Set up in January, it already has about 1,000 members who congregate — online and in person — to debate the virtues of different brands of strawberry shortcake. It's something that Sekine says would have been unthinkable 20 years ago.
"Back then, lots of men liked desserts, but it was considered uncool. Cool men had to like alcohol or spicy food. I've discovered my father likes eating dessert, but he never showed it in the past," Sekine says.
Put through his paces with an impromptu taste test, Sekine praises peach gelatin as fresh-tasting. He is not so keen on coffee gelatin with cream — a macho dessert if ever there was one — labeling it "retro." He believes his dessert club shows that young Japanese men are asserting their individuality, reflecting a change in values from Japan's booming 1980s.
"Back then, Japanese men had to be passionate and aggressive, but now those characteristics are disliked. Our members have very mild personalities. They simply enjoy what they like without prejudice. They are not limited by expectations," Sekine says.
Japan's top expert on herbivores, Maki Fukasawa, believes they were born from the lost decade of economic stagnation. She christened the tribe in 2006 and recently wrote a book called The Herbivore Generation, which breaks herbivores down into 23 distinct subcategories. She argues that the herbivores are rebelling against the salaryman generation of their fathers, consciously turning away from the macho mores and conspicuous consumption of that era.
"They have some feelings of revulsion towards the older generation," says Fukasawa. "They don't want to have the same lives. And the impact of the herbivores on the economy is very big. They're such big news now because sales are down, especially of status products like cars and alcohol."
She says the advent of the herbivores could bring positive changes. Herbivores may lack ambition, but they are driven by a strong sense of community and family, which she believes many of them lacked while growing up.
"In a sense, their fathers neglected their families. They were involved in Japanese-style salaryman lifestyles, going out with their bosses every night, while herbivores are closer to their families and friends," Fukasawa says.
But there are fears about the financial and social impact of herbivores. Their low levels of spending and lack of interest in sex invoke two of Japan's biggest problems: its lackluster economy and declining birthrate. Herbivores like to be friends with women — but for many, that's as far as it goes.
In the streets of Harajuku, Alex Fujita explains why he is not interested in taking it any further.
"Nowadays, women have more education and enjoy working. Women are scary now," he says.
And, of course, there is a name, too, for the economically empowered working Japanese women who know what they want: the carnivore women. With herbivore boys and carnivore girls, it seems the land of samurai, sumo wrestlers and geisha girls is remaking its gender landscape anew.
Ozawa looming as 'shadow shogun'
The Japan Times: Saturday, Nov. 21, 2009
DPJ heavyweight's clout seen eclipsing Hatoyama's
By ALEX MARTIN
Staff writer
The Democratic Party of Japan's oldest lawmaker recently had a few bitter words for his old friend, DPJ Secretary General Ichiro Ozawa.
Speaking in Fukuoka earlier this month, Kozo Watabe criticized what he considered the monopolization of party authority in Ozawa's hands.
"If Mr. Ozawa says turn right, we turn right. If he says turn left, we turn left. And if he says five plus five is 15, then we just have to say, 'Yes, sir,' " Watabe said.
Although the 77-year-old veteran lawmaker was apparently unhappy with Ozawa's decision not to reappoint him as the party's top adviser, his comments did provide a glimpse into how Ozawa almost single-handedly dictates policy, trying to reform the way politics are done.
But his top-down management isn't open to criticism, and his overwhelming authority over the DPJ has led many to fear Ozawa's influence may undermine the government of Prime Minister Yukio Hatoyama, the party's president.
There are already signs.
When the Government Revitalization Unit recruited 32 lawmakers as part of a team of inspectors tasked with examining and recommending cuts in unnecessary state budget expenditures, Ozawa muscled in and demanded first-term lawmakers be excluded, drastically cutting their ranks and in the process highlighting Hatoyama's lack of leadership.
"Even after being a lawmaker for 40 years, I still find it difficult to examine fat budget documents — besides, the party was unaware of the entire process," Ozawa said in an Oct. 26 press conference on his reasons for keeping junior ranks out.
The incident was evidence that Ozawa not only had assumed control of the DPJ, but also had a say in government personnel decisions.
In a recent article for the quarterly journal Bungei Shunju, political commentator Takashi Tachibana expressed concern over Ozawa's increasing clout, and compared his dictatorial style to that of Ozawa's Liberal Democratic Party mentor, the late Prime Minister Kakuei Tanaka, one of postwar Japan's most powerful, and scandal-tainted, politicians. Known as the "shadow shogun," Tanaka's behind-the-scenes clout lasted long after his prime ministership ended.
But with the entry of some 140 freshmen lawmakers who rode the DPJ's tidal wave into power in the Aug. 30 election, and who owe their success to Ozawa, his political influence now even dwarfs Tanaka's. "Ozawa has now assumed command of the nation's future," Tachibana wrote.
Even though Ozawa was forced by financial scandal to give up the DPJ presidency last spring, and faces fresh allegations of receiving illegal political donations, his influence seems to be on an ever-increasing upward trajectory.
He recently ruled that all petitions directed from municipalities to the government be channeled through the DPJ secretary general's office instead of having their targeted ministries handle them.
Ozawa said this "reform" was intended to prevent various organizations from directly petitioning ministries — a practice that often led to cozy ties between bureaucrats and politicians with vested interests.
"Petitions taken directly to the central bureaucracy via political connections contravene our goal of decentralizing power," Ozawa said this month.
While significantly hiking the authority of his office, the petition rerouting simultaneously serves to bolster the DPJ's control over municipal organizations — key vote-generating machines — ahead of next summer's Upper House poll, in which the party aims to win a majority on its own.
But while such tactics may boost the DPJ's chances of winning elections, experts warn it is essential that Ozawa not become a "back seat driver" who pulls the strings behind the scenes and is immune from responsibility.
Hidekazu Kawai, honorary professor at Gakushuin University, said that considering Ozawa's background and political expertise, it was only natural that he assumed command of the party — especially with most of the other DPJ heavyweights in the Cabinet.
Ozawa — a '90s defector from the LDP — was the point man when it came to whittling away the LDP's traditional support base ahead of the last poll, and is doing likewise for the coming Upper House election, and Hatoyama thus has no choice but to rely on him, Kawai said.
But unless the administration can find a way to hold Ozawa accountable, he could become the next shadow shogun, calling the shots without ever having to take any responsibility for the government's actions, Kawai said, adding the key to the political situation will be whether the kingmaker can be held to account.
Ozawa's rapid changes in the way the government does business are having side effects. Since the DPJ abolished the policy research council, lawmakers who aren't part of the government apparatus are having a hard time getting their voices heard.
Out of the 419 DPJ lawmakers, 160 have been assigned to either government, party or Diet posts, leaving more than 200 with time on their hands.
A rookie DPJ lawmaker, who declined to be named, recently said he was still unsure how he could be involved in policy decisions, voicing hope that a way can be paved for young lawmakers' opinions to be reflected in policymaking.
"It's as if we're only here to vote (on) bills," he said.
But Koichi Nakano, political science professor at Sophia University, said that while it was unlikely Ozawa will loosen his grip on power, he also believed the media might be going overboard with his image as a backroom fixer.
Despite fears of Ozawa's influence, there's a limit to how far his authority can stretch, he said, adding, "After all, he's neither the prime minister nor the president of the DPJ. He can't possibly assume complete control."
(C) All rights reserved
DPJ heavyweight's clout seen eclipsing Hatoyama's
By ALEX MARTIN
Staff writer
The Democratic Party of Japan's oldest lawmaker recently had a few bitter words for his old friend, DPJ Secretary General Ichiro Ozawa.
Speaking in Fukuoka earlier this month, Kozo Watabe criticized what he considered the monopolization of party authority in Ozawa's hands.
"If Mr. Ozawa says turn right, we turn right. If he says turn left, we turn left. And if he says five plus five is 15, then we just have to say, 'Yes, sir,' " Watabe said.
Although the 77-year-old veteran lawmaker was apparently unhappy with Ozawa's decision not to reappoint him as the party's top adviser, his comments did provide a glimpse into how Ozawa almost single-handedly dictates policy, trying to reform the way politics are done.
But his top-down management isn't open to criticism, and his overwhelming authority over the DPJ has led many to fear Ozawa's influence may undermine the government of Prime Minister Yukio Hatoyama, the party's president.
There are already signs.
When the Government Revitalization Unit recruited 32 lawmakers as part of a team of inspectors tasked with examining and recommending cuts in unnecessary state budget expenditures, Ozawa muscled in and demanded first-term lawmakers be excluded, drastically cutting their ranks and in the process highlighting Hatoyama's lack of leadership.
"Even after being a lawmaker for 40 years, I still find it difficult to examine fat budget documents — besides, the party was unaware of the entire process," Ozawa said in an Oct. 26 press conference on his reasons for keeping junior ranks out.
The incident was evidence that Ozawa not only had assumed control of the DPJ, but also had a say in government personnel decisions.
In a recent article for the quarterly journal Bungei Shunju, political commentator Takashi Tachibana expressed concern over Ozawa's increasing clout, and compared his dictatorial style to that of Ozawa's Liberal Democratic Party mentor, the late Prime Minister Kakuei Tanaka, one of postwar Japan's most powerful, and scandal-tainted, politicians. Known as the "shadow shogun," Tanaka's behind-the-scenes clout lasted long after his prime ministership ended.
But with the entry of some 140 freshmen lawmakers who rode the DPJ's tidal wave into power in the Aug. 30 election, and who owe their success to Ozawa, his political influence now even dwarfs Tanaka's. "Ozawa has now assumed command of the nation's future," Tachibana wrote.
Even though Ozawa was forced by financial scandal to give up the DPJ presidency last spring, and faces fresh allegations of receiving illegal political donations, his influence seems to be on an ever-increasing upward trajectory.
He recently ruled that all petitions directed from municipalities to the government be channeled through the DPJ secretary general's office instead of having their targeted ministries handle them.
Ozawa said this "reform" was intended to prevent various organizations from directly petitioning ministries — a practice that often led to cozy ties between bureaucrats and politicians with vested interests.
"Petitions taken directly to the central bureaucracy via political connections contravene our goal of decentralizing power," Ozawa said this month.
While significantly hiking the authority of his office, the petition rerouting simultaneously serves to bolster the DPJ's control over municipal organizations — key vote-generating machines — ahead of next summer's Upper House poll, in which the party aims to win a majority on its own.
But while such tactics may boost the DPJ's chances of winning elections, experts warn it is essential that Ozawa not become a "back seat driver" who pulls the strings behind the scenes and is immune from responsibility.
Hidekazu Kawai, honorary professor at Gakushuin University, said that considering Ozawa's background and political expertise, it was only natural that he assumed command of the party — especially with most of the other DPJ heavyweights in the Cabinet.
Ozawa — a '90s defector from the LDP — was the point man when it came to whittling away the LDP's traditional support base ahead of the last poll, and is doing likewise for the coming Upper House election, and Hatoyama thus has no choice but to rely on him, Kawai said.
But unless the administration can find a way to hold Ozawa accountable, he could become the next shadow shogun, calling the shots without ever having to take any responsibility for the government's actions, Kawai said, adding the key to the political situation will be whether the kingmaker can be held to account.
Ozawa's rapid changes in the way the government does business are having side effects. Since the DPJ abolished the policy research council, lawmakers who aren't part of the government apparatus are having a hard time getting their voices heard.
Out of the 419 DPJ lawmakers, 160 have been assigned to either government, party or Diet posts, leaving more than 200 with time on their hands.
A rookie DPJ lawmaker, who declined to be named, recently said he was still unsure how he could be involved in policy decisions, voicing hope that a way can be paved for young lawmakers' opinions to be reflected in policymaking.
"It's as if we're only here to vote (on) bills," he said.
But Koichi Nakano, political science professor at Sophia University, said that while it was unlikely Ozawa will loosen his grip on power, he also believed the media might be going overboard with his image as a backroom fixer.
Despite fears of Ozawa's influence, there's a limit to how far his authority can stretch, he said, adding, "After all, he's neither the prime minister nor the president of the DPJ. He can't possibly assume complete control."
(C) All rights reserved
Tariff sinks Japan used car biz in Vladivostok
VLADIVOSTOK, Russia (Kyodo) Russia's used vehicle import business has been hit hard by an increase in the tariff on imported vehicles to protect the domestic automobile industry.
In Vladivostok, where most Japanese used vehicles enter Russia — the secondhand vehicle business is regarded as the city's largest industry — unemployment and bankruptcies are mounting.
"The time of the Japanese-made used vehicle business is over," said Igor Lyakhta, 42, president of a company that has sold vehicles in Vladivostok for more than 10 years. His company sold 300 vehicles a month on average last year, but this year the number has plunged to 30 after the tariff was raised last January.
The number of used vehicles imported from Japan in the first eight months of this year plunged around 90 percent from the year before. In major cities in the Russian Far East, almost all of the vehicles running are Japanese made, unlike in Moscow, where vehicles produced by European and American automakers are conspicuous.
According to Lyakhta, the tariff hike and the global financial crisis since last fall in combination with a strong yen and weak ruble have raised the open market price of used Japanese vehicles by 30 percent to 60 percent. Secondhand Japanese vehicles, which have been highly popular, are now out of reach for ordinary people.
The spacious Green Corner used vehicle lot on a hill overlooking Vladivostok port displayed 10,000 vehicles in good times. Now there are only around 4,000. Potential buyers are rare and dealers are at their wits' end.
A man identifying himself only as Iliya, 37, who sold secondhand vehicles for eight years until last December, became a taxi driver after the tariff hike.
"Vehicles bring happiness to people. The rise in the tariff rate only destroys life in the Far East," he said.
During the Soviet era, Vladivostok was closed to foreigners. The largest industry in the area is said to be the Japanese used vehicle-related business, which developed after the collapse of the Soviet Union.
Of the city's population of about 600,000, around 100,000 are believed to be engaged in vehicle-related businesses, including sales, transportation, repairs, parts and washing. Since the tariff was raised, unemployment has shot through the roof.
The Russian government is planning to introduce a technical standard that will virtually ban imports of right-hand drive Japanese vehicles next September. Imports of left-hand drive European and American vehicles will continue.
A government official said that in Russia, where traffic drives on the right, right-hand drive vehicles are liable to cause accidents.
A Japanese government source described the regulation as a protectionist measure, saying, "If Russia becomes a member of the World Trade Organization, it will be sued without fail."
The planned regulation is reportedly the result of lobbying by Russia's automobile industry to get rid of Japanese-made vehicles.
"European and American automakers appear to regard this as the best chance to expel Japanese imported vehicles from Russia," a Japanese industry source said.
A Japanese businessman involved in the secondhand vehicle business in Russia said: "Right-hand drive vehicles will have the life choked out of them if they are banned. We will have to increase handling of products other than automobiles."
The Japan Times: Tuesday, Nov. 24, 2009
(C) All rights reserved
In Vladivostok, where most Japanese used vehicles enter Russia — the secondhand vehicle business is regarded as the city's largest industry — unemployment and bankruptcies are mounting.
"The time of the Japanese-made used vehicle business is over," said Igor Lyakhta, 42, president of a company that has sold vehicles in Vladivostok for more than 10 years. His company sold 300 vehicles a month on average last year, but this year the number has plunged to 30 after the tariff was raised last January.
The number of used vehicles imported from Japan in the first eight months of this year plunged around 90 percent from the year before. In major cities in the Russian Far East, almost all of the vehicles running are Japanese made, unlike in Moscow, where vehicles produced by European and American automakers are conspicuous.
According to Lyakhta, the tariff hike and the global financial crisis since last fall in combination with a strong yen and weak ruble have raised the open market price of used Japanese vehicles by 30 percent to 60 percent. Secondhand Japanese vehicles, which have been highly popular, are now out of reach for ordinary people.
The spacious Green Corner used vehicle lot on a hill overlooking Vladivostok port displayed 10,000 vehicles in good times. Now there are only around 4,000. Potential buyers are rare and dealers are at their wits' end.
A man identifying himself only as Iliya, 37, who sold secondhand vehicles for eight years until last December, became a taxi driver after the tariff hike.
"Vehicles bring happiness to people. The rise in the tariff rate only destroys life in the Far East," he said.
During the Soviet era, Vladivostok was closed to foreigners. The largest industry in the area is said to be the Japanese used vehicle-related business, which developed after the collapse of the Soviet Union.
Of the city's population of about 600,000, around 100,000 are believed to be engaged in vehicle-related businesses, including sales, transportation, repairs, parts and washing. Since the tariff was raised, unemployment has shot through the roof.
The Russian government is planning to introduce a technical standard that will virtually ban imports of right-hand drive Japanese vehicles next September. Imports of left-hand drive European and American vehicles will continue.
A government official said that in Russia, where traffic drives on the right, right-hand drive vehicles are liable to cause accidents.
A Japanese government source described the regulation as a protectionist measure, saying, "If Russia becomes a member of the World Trade Organization, it will be sued without fail."
The planned regulation is reportedly the result of lobbying by Russia's automobile industry to get rid of Japanese-made vehicles.
"European and American automakers appear to regard this as the best chance to expel Japanese imported vehicles from Russia," a Japanese industry source said.
A Japanese businessman involved in the secondhand vehicle business in Russia said: "Right-hand drive vehicles will have the life choked out of them if they are banned. We will have to increase handling of products other than automobiles."
The Japan Times: Tuesday, Nov. 24, 2009
(C) All rights reserved
Korea builds city of the future - today
CITY SENSE By Paulo Alcazaren (The Philippine Star)
Updated November 21, 2009 12:00 AM
Songdo International City in Incheon, South Korea, is the world’s newest city. It was created to establish a new standard of smart urban development that is environmentally sustainable, blessed with parks and open spaces and networked in the latest communication technology.
I just visited the place and it is not just another hyped-up destination. These audacious Koreans, working in tandem with American developers and a world leader in networking technology, Cisco, have made what seems like a futuristic dream on paper into a pulsating reality.
Korea has built itself up from the ravages of war into one of the world’s leading economic powers. One of the original Asian Tigers emerging in the 1980s, it has since kept pace with the rest of the globe. It has also not rested on its substantial laurels. From cell phones to cars and LCD screens and telenovelas, Korea leads the way.
My visit to Songdo City made me realize that it also wants to lead the way in other areas of innovation. Understanding that the future of the world lies in cities and their interconnectedness, authorities here embarked on an experiment in cutting-edge city building.
Songdo City is an expansion of the city of Incheon, which itself is part of the large metropolitan conurbation of Seoul. It is already the site of the country’s premier new airport, a complex that rivals similar facilities in Singapore, Hong Kong, and Japan.
Songdo International City is part of the Incheon Free Economic Zone (1FEZ). In 2000, authorities realized that the existing city of Incheon, 40 kilometers from Seoul, did not have enough land area to accommodate expansion, so over 200 hectares of land was reclaimed from the sea — over 200 square kilometers or about half the size of Metro Manila!
Three clusters of development are being planned: Yeongjong Aeropolis (138.3 square kilometers) containing the airport, an industrial, design and logistics center; Cheongna Leisure City (17.7 square kilometers), which will house eco-friendly financial and high-tech centers along with tourism facilities that will be a portal to 150 islands off the coast, and Robotland, a giant theme park, featuring, you guessed it — robots; and finally Songdo International City, which is the first of the three clusters to be started and is now partially complete and operational.
I went to the city to attend the Sustainable Cities of the Future Conference, jointly organized by the City of Incheon and Cisco. The conference highlighted the amazing technologies being embedded into the city to address urban needs like safety and security, healthcare, intelligent buildings and green energy.
The Philippine delegation stayed, along with other country representatives in the central Songdo Business District. The district is a masterpiece of urban design currently being developed by Cisco and its partner, the American real estate giant Gale International, in cooperation with the Songdo, Incheon government. Gale’s planners and architects were the multi-awarded American firm of Kohn Petersen Fox (KPF).
Cisco toured us around the new city (which was all just water a few years ago), visiting the city’s iconic convention center, residential complexes, international schools and the metropolitan civic center along with the Incheon Global Fair, that showcased the best in Korean and International Technology for future cities.
We were shown and were astounded by the interconnected communications network system Cisco had developed for the city; what they call Smart+Connected Communities solutions, a transformational family of technologies that they hope (and I believe) will change the shape of cities to come. All residential units in the planned new city will have large screen video interfaces that connect residents with schools, post offices, retail establishments, offices and every conceivable convenience and service in the city.
We were shown a demonstration that connected us to an English teacher in the International School a few hundred meters away. We later took a short ride to the school and met the teacher just to prove that he was real. We were also witness to a music lesson and shown how the system also could wirelessly and remotely control all the residential units’ electronics, appliances and security. Songdo residents will be constantly connected with everything and everyone they need to deal or socialize with without having to expend fuel and energy by driving there.
If you do need to go anywhere in the city, the road system is wonderfully maintained and rational. The authorities also built a subway extension to old Incheon and even to Seoul. This road and subway infrastructure was built ahead of any development. Also built ahead of anything was the complete infrastructure for power, sewage treatment and drainage. Easements on all drainage canals and channels are between 50 and 100 meters wide — compared to the measly five-meter easements we have here in Metro Manila!
We met Wim Elfrink, chief globalization officer and executive vice president of Cisco Services, who informed us that all this was a product of an “agreement signed by Cisco and Gale International to establish the ‘Cisco Global Center for Smart+Connected Communities’ in Songdo IBD…”
He also told us that Cisco is “working closely with Incheon Metropolitan City to develop network-enabled innovation and to support sustainable economic development…the two companies intend to partner to help accelerate the development of such smart and connected cities, which will be designed to improve economic development, environmental sustainability, and the quality of life for citizens. They will also assemble a broad ecosystem of strategic design, development and technology partners to enable and drive network-enabled, city-scale innovation.”
We met Stan Gale, head honcho of Gale International, at the Global Fair. He said that “the vision for this new city is truly transformational, giving residents, businesses and government leaders within Songdo the opportunity to experience the city of the future — today. Our collaboration on Songdo IBD with Gale International is a living example of the globally replicable model we are building for Smart+Connected Communities. We are thrilled to be part of such a groundbreaking initiative, working closely with Gale International to develop new business models for managing and delivering urban services using the network as the platform for transforming cities and countries. We look forward to future visionary projects like this one, such as the efforts currently underway in Meixi Lake District in China.”
Clearly the intent of Cisco and its partners go beyond Songdo. The possibility of Smart+Connected Cities is replicable in other growing Asian cities, including our own. Technology is fine but I also went around the city on foot to test its pedestrian friendliness and to savor the three large city parks that have already been built.
The city is indeed a walkable city. Instant shade trees were already planted even before the first building came up. There are linear park connectors with bike paths all around. Bus transport for farther destinations is made environmentally friendly with the use of LPG-fueled vehicles.
The parks are wonderfully large and accessible from all corners of the district. The flagship 100-acre “central park” in the district’s center hides the multi-level parking underneath the greenery. An artificial lake also provides ferry services from one end to the other. The park accommodates both active and passive activities and has bike and jogging paths around it. Few, if any, of our parks are professionally designed; KPF had landscape architects design the parks in Songdo.
The future of cities is evident now in Songdo, a city that seems to have found a harmonious connection between nature and technology, innovation and innovative urban design, quality of life and a conscious sustained effort to build their cities smart. When will we here in Metro Manila wisen up?
Updated November 21, 2009 12:00 AM
Songdo International City in Incheon, South Korea, is the world’s newest city. It was created to establish a new standard of smart urban development that is environmentally sustainable, blessed with parks and open spaces and networked in the latest communication technology.
I just visited the place and it is not just another hyped-up destination. These audacious Koreans, working in tandem with American developers and a world leader in networking technology, Cisco, have made what seems like a futuristic dream on paper into a pulsating reality.
Korea has built itself up from the ravages of war into one of the world’s leading economic powers. One of the original Asian Tigers emerging in the 1980s, it has since kept pace with the rest of the globe. It has also not rested on its substantial laurels. From cell phones to cars and LCD screens and telenovelas, Korea leads the way.
My visit to Songdo City made me realize that it also wants to lead the way in other areas of innovation. Understanding that the future of the world lies in cities and their interconnectedness, authorities here embarked on an experiment in cutting-edge city building.
Songdo City is an expansion of the city of Incheon, which itself is part of the large metropolitan conurbation of Seoul. It is already the site of the country’s premier new airport, a complex that rivals similar facilities in Singapore, Hong Kong, and Japan.
Songdo International City is part of the Incheon Free Economic Zone (1FEZ). In 2000, authorities realized that the existing city of Incheon, 40 kilometers from Seoul, did not have enough land area to accommodate expansion, so over 200 hectares of land was reclaimed from the sea — over 200 square kilometers or about half the size of Metro Manila!
Three clusters of development are being planned: Yeongjong Aeropolis (138.3 square kilometers) containing the airport, an industrial, design and logistics center; Cheongna Leisure City (17.7 square kilometers), which will house eco-friendly financial and high-tech centers along with tourism facilities that will be a portal to 150 islands off the coast, and Robotland, a giant theme park, featuring, you guessed it — robots; and finally Songdo International City, which is the first of the three clusters to be started and is now partially complete and operational.
I went to the city to attend the Sustainable Cities of the Future Conference, jointly organized by the City of Incheon and Cisco. The conference highlighted the amazing technologies being embedded into the city to address urban needs like safety and security, healthcare, intelligent buildings and green energy.
The Philippine delegation stayed, along with other country representatives in the central Songdo Business District. The district is a masterpiece of urban design currently being developed by Cisco and its partner, the American real estate giant Gale International, in cooperation with the Songdo, Incheon government. Gale’s planners and architects were the multi-awarded American firm of Kohn Petersen Fox (KPF).
Cisco toured us around the new city (which was all just water a few years ago), visiting the city’s iconic convention center, residential complexes, international schools and the metropolitan civic center along with the Incheon Global Fair, that showcased the best in Korean and International Technology for future cities.
We were shown and were astounded by the interconnected communications network system Cisco had developed for the city; what they call Smart+Connected Communities solutions, a transformational family of technologies that they hope (and I believe) will change the shape of cities to come. All residential units in the planned new city will have large screen video interfaces that connect residents with schools, post offices, retail establishments, offices and every conceivable convenience and service in the city.
We were shown a demonstration that connected us to an English teacher in the International School a few hundred meters away. We later took a short ride to the school and met the teacher just to prove that he was real. We were also witness to a music lesson and shown how the system also could wirelessly and remotely control all the residential units’ electronics, appliances and security. Songdo residents will be constantly connected with everything and everyone they need to deal or socialize with without having to expend fuel and energy by driving there.
If you do need to go anywhere in the city, the road system is wonderfully maintained and rational. The authorities also built a subway extension to old Incheon and even to Seoul. This road and subway infrastructure was built ahead of any development. Also built ahead of anything was the complete infrastructure for power, sewage treatment and drainage. Easements on all drainage canals and channels are between 50 and 100 meters wide — compared to the measly five-meter easements we have here in Metro Manila!
We met Wim Elfrink, chief globalization officer and executive vice president of Cisco Services, who informed us that all this was a product of an “agreement signed by Cisco and Gale International to establish the ‘Cisco Global Center for Smart+Connected Communities’ in Songdo IBD…”
He also told us that Cisco is “working closely with Incheon Metropolitan City to develop network-enabled innovation and to support sustainable economic development…the two companies intend to partner to help accelerate the development of such smart and connected cities, which will be designed to improve economic development, environmental sustainability, and the quality of life for citizens. They will also assemble a broad ecosystem of strategic design, development and technology partners to enable and drive network-enabled, city-scale innovation.”
We met Stan Gale, head honcho of Gale International, at the Global Fair. He said that “the vision for this new city is truly transformational, giving residents, businesses and government leaders within Songdo the opportunity to experience the city of the future — today. Our collaboration on Songdo IBD with Gale International is a living example of the globally replicable model we are building for Smart+Connected Communities. We are thrilled to be part of such a groundbreaking initiative, working closely with Gale International to develop new business models for managing and delivering urban services using the network as the platform for transforming cities and countries. We look forward to future visionary projects like this one, such as the efforts currently underway in Meixi Lake District in China.”
Clearly the intent of Cisco and its partners go beyond Songdo. The possibility of Smart+Connected Cities is replicable in other growing Asian cities, including our own. Technology is fine but I also went around the city on foot to test its pedestrian friendliness and to savor the three large city parks that have already been built.
The city is indeed a walkable city. Instant shade trees were already planted even before the first building came up. There are linear park connectors with bike paths all around. Bus transport for farther destinations is made environmentally friendly with the use of LPG-fueled vehicles.
The parks are wonderfully large and accessible from all corners of the district. The flagship 100-acre “central park” in the district’s center hides the multi-level parking underneath the greenery. An artificial lake also provides ferry services from one end to the other. The park accommodates both active and passive activities and has bike and jogging paths around it. Few, if any, of our parks are professionally designed; KPF had landscape architects design the parks in Songdo.
The future of cities is evident now in Songdo, a city that seems to have found a harmonious connection between nature and technology, innovation and innovative urban design, quality of life and a conscious sustained effort to build their cities smart. When will we here in Metro Manila wisen up?
Chow Tai Fook Building Highest Building in Tianjin
Mon. November 23, 2009; Posted: 06:30 AM
TIANJIN, Nov 23, 2009
Chow Tai Fook, a Hong Kong-based jewelry retailer under the aegis of New World Development Company Limited, just launch the Chow Tai Fook Binhai Center project in the Binhai New Area, Tianjin.
The project will be a 530-meter-high skyscraper, the highest building in the northern port city, after being completed with a total investment of CNY 8 billion in 2014 as scheduled.
With a floor area of about 350,000 square meters, the skyscraper will have 100 storeys, with four ones underground. It will grow into a landscape building with first-class offices, a five-star hotel, luxurious apartments. Some other buildings will also be constructed, including a four-storey shopping center.
This September, the highest building in south China broke earth. Invested by Chow Tai Fook, it will be a building with 116 storeys, as high as 530 meters. It is predicted to be completed in Guangzhou, capital of Guangdong Province, with an investment of more than CNY 10 billion in 2016.
Source: www.hexun.com (November 23, 2009)
TIANJIN, Nov 23, 2009
Chow Tai Fook, a Hong Kong-based jewelry retailer under the aegis of New World Development Company Limited, just launch the Chow Tai Fook Binhai Center project in the Binhai New Area, Tianjin.
The project will be a 530-meter-high skyscraper, the highest building in the northern port city, after being completed with a total investment of CNY 8 billion in 2014 as scheduled.
With a floor area of about 350,000 square meters, the skyscraper will have 100 storeys, with four ones underground. It will grow into a landscape building with first-class offices, a five-star hotel, luxurious apartments. Some other buildings will also be constructed, including a four-storey shopping center.
This September, the highest building in south China broke earth. Invested by Chow Tai Fook, it will be a building with 116 storeys, as high as 530 meters. It is predicted to be completed in Guangzhou, capital of Guangdong Province, with an investment of more than CNY 10 billion in 2016.
Source: www.hexun.com (November 23, 2009)
As Cargo And Container Levels Drop Ports Fight For Shipping Traffic Worldwide
18 November 2009
WORLDWIDE – Nobody in the industry can be unaware of the rising tension as the dreaded “P” word, Protectionism, gets to be heard more often. As usual in times of strife nation follows nation in trying to ensure the survival of its prime industries and beat off the threat of cheap imports. As the US and Chinese leaders circle the ring this week trade deficits are never far from their thoughts despite all the other pressing matters requiring their immediate attention.
The fight for traffic does not exist of course only in terms of international competition. A look round the worlds ports shows how tough life has become for many, and how neighbour will swiftly turn against neighbour when food needs to be put on the workers and shareholders tables.
Figures out this week in ports across the US and China make for interesting reading. The Port of Los Angeles is feeling pleased with itself, a near 11% jump in TEU’s for September, imports and exports up to a high for 2009. Export figures were actually up against last year, and by a higher percentage than they were down for imports. Just down the coast, Long Beach meant long face, as the port dropped to around 345,000 TEU’s in October. That’s a 10% export and 22% import drop against last year. Local port officials admitted they have never had to worry about local competition before, thirty years of growth has led to complacency, if LA was busy, what the heck, let the guys at Long Beach take the overspill. Not any more, every box handled has a price and hopefully a profit.
Many of the problems faced are due to the shipping lines consolidating their services and moving routes to more profitable, or at least less expensive ports. Maersk pulled out of Tacoma a while ago, this week the port posted a loss of around $18 million, the first time anyone can remember the figures were red not black. Now with NYK pulling out of their new multi modal freight terminal times ahead look far from rosy. Tacoma’s loss of Maersk became Seattle’s gain.
But this wave of internal competition is being as fiercely fought across in China as in the US. With shipping container throughput down around 7% at least this year despite claims of a fractional rise in TEU’s last month. The traditional port strongholds in the South and East of the country, Shanghai, Ningbo, Xiamen and Hong Kong are subject to a concerted attack from the Bohai Rim facilities in areas such as Dalian, Tianjin, and as far south as Qingdao. In Yingkou, in the far north of the Bohai Sea and the closest main port to North Korea, container cargo rose by a staggering 29%.
Now new rivals are entering the fray with such areas as Hebei Province starting its own port organisation which now claims to be the largest by tonnage in the world, whilst Tianjin has grandiose plans to achieve a 17 million TEU, 550 million tonne turnover in the next six years, principally by further dredging works to accommodate 300,000 tonne vessels.
In the meantime the port managements, realising the potential commercial problems, are actively engaged in share swaps to insure against failure. Dalian, with Jinzhou, and more deals on the table; Qingdao putting money in Dongjiakou, for new berths and infrastructure. With shipping lines in no position to refuse a deal and likely to be tempted by lower rates and better facilities, the internal fight for lower traffic levels looks set to continue for some years yet.
WORLDWIDE – Nobody in the industry can be unaware of the rising tension as the dreaded “P” word, Protectionism, gets to be heard more often. As usual in times of strife nation follows nation in trying to ensure the survival of its prime industries and beat off the threat of cheap imports. As the US and Chinese leaders circle the ring this week trade deficits are never far from their thoughts despite all the other pressing matters requiring their immediate attention.
The fight for traffic does not exist of course only in terms of international competition. A look round the worlds ports shows how tough life has become for many, and how neighbour will swiftly turn against neighbour when food needs to be put on the workers and shareholders tables.
Figures out this week in ports across the US and China make for interesting reading. The Port of Los Angeles is feeling pleased with itself, a near 11% jump in TEU’s for September, imports and exports up to a high for 2009. Export figures were actually up against last year, and by a higher percentage than they were down for imports. Just down the coast, Long Beach meant long face, as the port dropped to around 345,000 TEU’s in October. That’s a 10% export and 22% import drop against last year. Local port officials admitted they have never had to worry about local competition before, thirty years of growth has led to complacency, if LA was busy, what the heck, let the guys at Long Beach take the overspill. Not any more, every box handled has a price and hopefully a profit.
Many of the problems faced are due to the shipping lines consolidating their services and moving routes to more profitable, or at least less expensive ports. Maersk pulled out of Tacoma a while ago, this week the port posted a loss of around $18 million, the first time anyone can remember the figures were red not black. Now with NYK pulling out of their new multi modal freight terminal times ahead look far from rosy. Tacoma’s loss of Maersk became Seattle’s gain.
But this wave of internal competition is being as fiercely fought across in China as in the US. With shipping container throughput down around 7% at least this year despite claims of a fractional rise in TEU’s last month. The traditional port strongholds in the South and East of the country, Shanghai, Ningbo, Xiamen and Hong Kong are subject to a concerted attack from the Bohai Rim facilities in areas such as Dalian, Tianjin, and as far south as Qingdao. In Yingkou, in the far north of the Bohai Sea and the closest main port to North Korea, container cargo rose by a staggering 29%.
Now new rivals are entering the fray with such areas as Hebei Province starting its own port organisation which now claims to be the largest by tonnage in the world, whilst Tianjin has grandiose plans to achieve a 17 million TEU, 550 million tonne turnover in the next six years, principally by further dredging works to accommodate 300,000 tonne vessels.
In the meantime the port managements, realising the potential commercial problems, are actively engaged in share swaps to insure against failure. Dalian, with Jinzhou, and more deals on the table; Qingdao putting money in Dongjiakou, for new berths and infrastructure. With shipping lines in no position to refuse a deal and likely to be tempted by lower rates and better facilities, the internal fight for lower traffic levels looks set to continue for some years yet.
Obama in China: What the media missed
Even through a veil of censorship and propaganda, the Chinese people managed a clearer view of Obama's visit than the US media did.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Tish Durkin
Let's be frank. The strongest impression that most Chinese people have of Barack Obama is that he is black. The second-strongest is that he is young. And the third-strongest — based on his decision a few months ago to impose a punitive tariff on Chinese tire exports — is that he is perhaps just as willing to screw over China as all his old, white predecessors were.
This is not to downplay the significance of the president's visit here. It's just to refrain from overplaying it. Having started with the notion that Obama just might come to China and make some history, the American media is now collectively bummed that he didn't. This is silly.
To read the bulk of the U.S. press, Obama fell short on three counts:
One, his contribution to China’s human-rights struggle was limited to one answer at a carefully staged student forum in Shanghai, where he extolled the American people's right to Twitter, internet-surf, and diss him personally. (Naturally, that portion of the program was censored by Chinese news outlets — although a pretty full translation of it was easy to pull up the following day.)
Two, he didn’t talk turkey to the Chinese leadership on anything because the U.S. has sold so much debt to China and needs to sell more.
Three, he can't close a deal. The day after Barack stepped foot on the Great Wall, China was the same repressive, polluting, trade-tilting outfit it was before.
The irony here is that, although the Chinese are the ones who get their information through the twin filters of propaganda and censorship, they are also the ones who seem to have a firmer grasp than Americans on what constitutes a realistic expectation. People in the street — at least those in the malls and market-stalls of Dalian, where I have been living — are giving Obama real credit.
They give him credit for coming here in the first year of his first term. They give him credit for saying friendly things about the U.S.-China relationship (although they have serious doubts about whether his actions will prove so nice). They give him credit for holding his own umbrella in the rain, thereby emitting a humanity and a humility that they rarely see in their own, distant leaders. Unfortunately, they also credit him for not meeting with the Dalai Lama, who is commonly — if for reasons of long-term state-sponsored collective brainwashing — seen as a slave-master separatist rabble-rouser whom the world should hold in contempt.
In short, if a goal of this trip was to foster a feeling among the Chinese that they can and should work with the U.S., that goal was certainly achieved.
Other, headier goals were not. But who set those goals in the first place?
The criticism of his uninspiring — if unsurprising — punting on human rights is predicated on the idea that if Obama had come here and forcefully addressed the issue, the earth would have moved. There is no real basis to believe that, and a fairly strong basis not to. It's not as if speaking truth to power hasn't been tried: In 1994, when Beijing hosted the United Nations World Conference on Women, then-First Lady Hillary Clinton showed up and gave them hell about human rights. Her rallying cry — "women's rights are human rights" — stirred the hearts of feminists, including Chinese feminists, and echoed across the world. That speech scared the wits out of the Chinese Communist Party — but didn’t pry a pinky off their grip on power.
Then there's the idea that Obama is tiptoeing around the Chinese because they’re such a large creditor. Everyone can agree that the level of U.S. debt, including debt to China, is a problem. But the question at hand is: what specifically did the president fail to address on this trip for fear of debt-related retribution? Human rights? Currency revaluation? Pushing China to pressure its nasty friends, such as Iran? Come on. The Chinese-American debt scenario didn’t even start unfolding until the George W. Bush administration. Those thorny issues, in all the forms they have taken over time, go back a lot further. Precisely what magic were the Ford, Carter, Reagan, Bush I and Clinton administrations working before China got all those T-bills?
Last but not least, there is the bupkuss factor: the consenus that Obama, poor jerk, has come away with nothing. No breakthroughs. No deals. Not even an Oprah "a-ha" moment. It's as if everybody thinks that some concrete public concession on at least one of the biggies — carbon emissions or political reform or North Korea — is something a U.S. president just can't leave China without, like a silk robe or a ceramic tea set.
But in reality, it's not like that. Every key element of the Sino-American relationship is too big and too convoluted for the thumbs-up/thumbs-down approach to apply.
So, relax, everybody. Obama came, he charmed, he left. And for now, that's perfectly fine.
Or, as Fox News-certified Maoist and soon-to-be former White House communications director Anita Dunn might put it: Obama's trip wasn't a great leap forward. But it was a step in the right direction.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Tish Durkin
Let's be frank. The strongest impression that most Chinese people have of Barack Obama is that he is black. The second-strongest is that he is young. And the third-strongest — based on his decision a few months ago to impose a punitive tariff on Chinese tire exports — is that he is perhaps just as willing to screw over China as all his old, white predecessors were.
This is not to downplay the significance of the president's visit here. It's just to refrain from overplaying it. Having started with the notion that Obama just might come to China and make some history, the American media is now collectively bummed that he didn't. This is silly.
To read the bulk of the U.S. press, Obama fell short on three counts:
One, his contribution to China’s human-rights struggle was limited to one answer at a carefully staged student forum in Shanghai, where he extolled the American people's right to Twitter, internet-surf, and diss him personally. (Naturally, that portion of the program was censored by Chinese news outlets — although a pretty full translation of it was easy to pull up the following day.)
Two, he didn’t talk turkey to the Chinese leadership on anything because the U.S. has sold so much debt to China and needs to sell more.
Three, he can't close a deal. The day after Barack stepped foot on the Great Wall, China was the same repressive, polluting, trade-tilting outfit it was before.
The irony here is that, although the Chinese are the ones who get their information through the twin filters of propaganda and censorship, they are also the ones who seem to have a firmer grasp than Americans on what constitutes a realistic expectation. People in the street — at least those in the malls and market-stalls of Dalian, where I have been living — are giving Obama real credit.
They give him credit for coming here in the first year of his first term. They give him credit for saying friendly things about the U.S.-China relationship (although they have serious doubts about whether his actions will prove so nice). They give him credit for holding his own umbrella in the rain, thereby emitting a humanity and a humility that they rarely see in their own, distant leaders. Unfortunately, they also credit him for not meeting with the Dalai Lama, who is commonly — if for reasons of long-term state-sponsored collective brainwashing — seen as a slave-master separatist rabble-rouser whom the world should hold in contempt.
In short, if a goal of this trip was to foster a feeling among the Chinese that they can and should work with the U.S., that goal was certainly achieved.
Other, headier goals were not. But who set those goals in the first place?
The criticism of his uninspiring — if unsurprising — punting on human rights is predicated on the idea that if Obama had come here and forcefully addressed the issue, the earth would have moved. There is no real basis to believe that, and a fairly strong basis not to. It's not as if speaking truth to power hasn't been tried: In 1994, when Beijing hosted the United Nations World Conference on Women, then-First Lady Hillary Clinton showed up and gave them hell about human rights. Her rallying cry — "women's rights are human rights" — stirred the hearts of feminists, including Chinese feminists, and echoed across the world. That speech scared the wits out of the Chinese Communist Party — but didn’t pry a pinky off their grip on power.
Then there's the idea that Obama is tiptoeing around the Chinese because they’re such a large creditor. Everyone can agree that the level of U.S. debt, including debt to China, is a problem. But the question at hand is: what specifically did the president fail to address on this trip for fear of debt-related retribution? Human rights? Currency revaluation? Pushing China to pressure its nasty friends, such as Iran? Come on. The Chinese-American debt scenario didn’t even start unfolding until the George W. Bush administration. Those thorny issues, in all the forms they have taken over time, go back a lot further. Precisely what magic were the Ford, Carter, Reagan, Bush I and Clinton administrations working before China got all those T-bills?
Last but not least, there is the bupkuss factor: the consenus that Obama, poor jerk, has come away with nothing. No breakthroughs. No deals. Not even an Oprah "a-ha" moment. It's as if everybody thinks that some concrete public concession on at least one of the biggies — carbon emissions or political reform or North Korea — is something a U.S. president just can't leave China without, like a silk robe or a ceramic tea set.
But in reality, it's not like that. Every key element of the Sino-American relationship is too big and too convoluted for the thumbs-up/thumbs-down approach to apply.
So, relax, everybody. Obama came, he charmed, he left. And for now, that's perfectly fine.
Or, as Fox News-certified Maoist and soon-to-be former White House communications director Anita Dunn might put it: Obama's trip wasn't a great leap forward. But it was a step in the right direction.
Our man in America: Paradise of consumption where 1 in 6 go hungry
Created: 2009-11-24, Updated: 2009-11-24 1:41:58
Author:Wan Lixin
Editor's note:
Shanghai Daily columnist Wan Lixin is now on a three-month journalism program in Virginia, United States. This is his second article giving his impressions.
IN a recent editorial (November 17) USA Today cited a 2005 data showing China as the world's biggest greenhouse gases emitter (19.12 percent), surpassing the 18.44 percent from the US.
China's fame as the world's factory rests heavily on big-spending America, and as we can now see, any fluctuations in American consumption can lead to serious consequences.
But some statistics can be misleading. Should the carbon footprint be traced to the end consumers as well as the producers? This paradise of consumption is a land of plenty, of overnutrition.
The financial crisis revealed that some well-paid professionals had been engaged in sophisticated, but dishonest work, and in my limited experience here in the US I saw that most non-sophisticated, manual labor is assigned to those who speak broken English. And this at a time when people talk about double-digit unemployment.
In normal, more ideal conditions such people should be more concerned about their ability to feed themselves, and apparently some Americans pretend they are.
Also on November 17, in a report titled "1 in 6 hungry in America last year," USA Today claimed that 49 million people in American households went hungry at some point in 2008, the highest since such figures were available since 1995, reflecting the recession's toll.
A fellow Chinese remarked with sarcasm that these hungry Americans are likely those who cannot have the kind of food they like. As a matter of fact, even though energy is getting more and more expensive, the US still gives the impression of a land of unlimited energy supply.
When we first arrived in the US, as the arrangement for our accommodation had not been settled, some of us were temporarily put up in a hotel.
On entering the hotel, the first feature striking me is that the hotel room does not have the energy-saving gadget where you automatically start or cut the whole power supply in the room as you insert or remove the key there. Nearly all Chinese hotels have this simple, energy-saving apparatus.
I also find that the hotel window cannot be opened to let in some fresh air outside. We are forced to rely on air-conditioning for ventilation.
A few days later, when we moved into an apartment, I found that the apartment is equally devoid of that key-triggered, energy-saving feature, and the whole apartment, complete with bedrooms, drawing room and kitchen, is controlled by one air-conditioning thermostat. And the power and water fees are included in a fixed sum of rental.
Placebos aplenty
A few years ago a friend of mine who had just arrived in an American university observed to me that many of his classmates left their dorms with air-conditioners running, even when they had left for school. I guess that kind of excess is probably due to a similar pay arrangement.
There are placebos aplenty, if you desire. From time to time you espy a brand new bus, usually not in service or half empty, with oversized letters on its sides reading: "This bus is running on clean natural gas." The stove in our kitchen is running on electricity, not clean natural gas.
This nation is assigned the sacred duty of consuming the world out of its recession.
But the fever for consumption is catching on. A guide told us that recently a group of Chinese snapped up 20 bags from a luxury brand shop in Washington, DC, effectively wiping out the stock.
These bags are priced in hundred of dollars, but each buyer is breathless with excitement, as they murmur to themselves, "These are real bargains -- they are worth several thousand yuan more back home."
How much of the exorbitant label value will ultimately trickle down to the modest bag, and then further to the invisible multitudes who actually make the modest bags?
On this point an MBA professor is probably eager to lecture you on the value of branding.
Copyright © 2001-2009 Shanghai Daily Publishing House
Author:Wan Lixin
Editor's note:
Shanghai Daily columnist Wan Lixin is now on a three-month journalism program in Virginia, United States. This is his second article giving his impressions.
IN a recent editorial (November 17) USA Today cited a 2005 data showing China as the world's biggest greenhouse gases emitter (19.12 percent), surpassing the 18.44 percent from the US.
China's fame as the world's factory rests heavily on big-spending America, and as we can now see, any fluctuations in American consumption can lead to serious consequences.
But some statistics can be misleading. Should the carbon footprint be traced to the end consumers as well as the producers? This paradise of consumption is a land of plenty, of overnutrition.
The financial crisis revealed that some well-paid professionals had been engaged in sophisticated, but dishonest work, and in my limited experience here in the US I saw that most non-sophisticated, manual labor is assigned to those who speak broken English. And this at a time when people talk about double-digit unemployment.
In normal, more ideal conditions such people should be more concerned about their ability to feed themselves, and apparently some Americans pretend they are.
Also on November 17, in a report titled "1 in 6 hungry in America last year," USA Today claimed that 49 million people in American households went hungry at some point in 2008, the highest since such figures were available since 1995, reflecting the recession's toll.
A fellow Chinese remarked with sarcasm that these hungry Americans are likely those who cannot have the kind of food they like. As a matter of fact, even though energy is getting more and more expensive, the US still gives the impression of a land of unlimited energy supply.
When we first arrived in the US, as the arrangement for our accommodation had not been settled, some of us were temporarily put up in a hotel.
On entering the hotel, the first feature striking me is that the hotel room does not have the energy-saving gadget where you automatically start or cut the whole power supply in the room as you insert or remove the key there. Nearly all Chinese hotels have this simple, energy-saving apparatus.
I also find that the hotel window cannot be opened to let in some fresh air outside. We are forced to rely on air-conditioning for ventilation.
A few days later, when we moved into an apartment, I found that the apartment is equally devoid of that key-triggered, energy-saving feature, and the whole apartment, complete with bedrooms, drawing room and kitchen, is controlled by one air-conditioning thermostat. And the power and water fees are included in a fixed sum of rental.
Placebos aplenty
A few years ago a friend of mine who had just arrived in an American university observed to me that many of his classmates left their dorms with air-conditioners running, even when they had left for school. I guess that kind of excess is probably due to a similar pay arrangement.
There are placebos aplenty, if you desire. From time to time you espy a brand new bus, usually not in service or half empty, with oversized letters on its sides reading: "This bus is running on clean natural gas." The stove in our kitchen is running on electricity, not clean natural gas.
This nation is assigned the sacred duty of consuming the world out of its recession.
But the fever for consumption is catching on. A guide told us that recently a group of Chinese snapped up 20 bags from a luxury brand shop in Washington, DC, effectively wiping out the stock.
These bags are priced in hundred of dollars, but each buyer is breathless with excitement, as they murmur to themselves, "These are real bargains -- they are worth several thousand yuan more back home."
How much of the exorbitant label value will ultimately trickle down to the modest bag, and then further to the invisible multitudes who actually make the modest bags?
On this point an MBA professor is probably eager to lecture you on the value of branding.
Copyright © 2001-2009 Shanghai Daily Publishing House
Japan flirts with disaster as debt deepens
From The Times November 24, 2009
Japan flirts with disaster as debt deepens
Leo Lewis in Tokyo The Japanese Finance Ministry is planning to float 140,000 billion yen (£950 billion) of “ordinary” government bonds in 2010, an unprecedented issuance of debt that will reignite concerns about the creditworthiness of the world’s second biggest economy.
The government is expected to issue about Y100,000 billion in bonds — to roll over previously issued bonds — an increase of Y10,000 billion over the figure for the present financial year. In addition, the Finance Ministry is preparing to issue more than Y44,000 billion to meet new financing and stimulus needs in an environment in which businesses are failing and tax revenues are dwindling. Government efforts to cap new funding at that level are expected to prove futile.
The debt management panel will meet tomorrow and is expected to discuss the move.
If bond issuance does rise, total issuance planned for next year ultimately could challenge the record Y165,000 billion raised in 2005. The final figure will include an as-yet undecided sum in “zaito” bonds used to finance 23 semi-governmental agencies.
With the country’s ratio of gross debt to GDP hovering above 170 per cent, Japan’s debt position is already viewed by some as the most fragile of all leading economies. A glut of new debt — possibly pushing that ratio to nearly 200 per cent — is likely to play into fears in some quarters of the market that Japan is rumbling towards fiscal implosion.
Japan’s huge ratio of debt to GDP has divided the market into two schools of thought. One side takes an apocalyptic view (and investment stance) that Japan has passed the point where it can marshal its debt without calamity. The population is ageing, fewer Japanese children are being born to support the debt mountain and companies are becoming less competitive against Asian rivals.
The doomsday theory — the reason that some have taken enormous short positions on Japanese government bonds — is that bond yields eventually rise to unsustainable levels and Japan, despite its stability and financial might, skirts closer to sovereign default.
A second view, held by veteran Japan-watchers and domestic economists, is that the red flags waved above bonds are ill-argued and unnecessarily bloodcurdling. The situation is startling — but it is manageable, the veterans say, because the bond market is a relatively closed loop: 96 per cent of them are held by Japanese people, institutions and arms of government.
The Japanese household may be saving less these days, but the entire pool of private sector savings is still, by far, the world’s largest. Critics of the doomsday argument do not dismiss Japan’s fiscal problems — it is undoubtedly an economy with structural problems on a grand scale — but suggest that that it is premature to panic.
The ratio of gross debt to GDP, according to a recent study by the National Bureau of Economic Research, is not a true gauge of fiscal health. When Japan’s net debt to GDP is compared with other leading economies, it is about the same as Italy’s and not alarmingly worse than Britain’s. In terms of debt servicing costs, Japan is in better shape than Britain, America, France and Germany.
Additionally, Jonathan Allum, the KBC strategist, said that the recent rise in Japanese bond yields had been overplayed as a force for evil. Between October 6 and November 6, yields on the ten-year note did move from 1.24 per cent to 1.45 per cent, before giving ground back to 1.3 per cent last week. “But yields were rising globally during that period and the impartial observer will be impressed not by the speed of the rise in yields, by just how low they remain by any historic standards save those of modern Japan,” Mr Allum said.
However, he added: “Another and even larger dog has failed to bark in the fiscal night: if Japan is really teetering on the edge of a financial volcano, why is the yen so strong?”
Japan flirts with disaster as debt deepens
Leo Lewis in Tokyo The Japanese Finance Ministry is planning to float 140,000 billion yen (£950 billion) of “ordinary” government bonds in 2010, an unprecedented issuance of debt that will reignite concerns about the creditworthiness of the world’s second biggest economy.
The government is expected to issue about Y100,000 billion in bonds — to roll over previously issued bonds — an increase of Y10,000 billion over the figure for the present financial year. In addition, the Finance Ministry is preparing to issue more than Y44,000 billion to meet new financing and stimulus needs in an environment in which businesses are failing and tax revenues are dwindling. Government efforts to cap new funding at that level are expected to prove futile.
The debt management panel will meet tomorrow and is expected to discuss the move.
If bond issuance does rise, total issuance planned for next year ultimately could challenge the record Y165,000 billion raised in 2005. The final figure will include an as-yet undecided sum in “zaito” bonds used to finance 23 semi-governmental agencies.
With the country’s ratio of gross debt to GDP hovering above 170 per cent, Japan’s debt position is already viewed by some as the most fragile of all leading economies. A glut of new debt — possibly pushing that ratio to nearly 200 per cent — is likely to play into fears in some quarters of the market that Japan is rumbling towards fiscal implosion.
Japan’s huge ratio of debt to GDP has divided the market into two schools of thought. One side takes an apocalyptic view (and investment stance) that Japan has passed the point where it can marshal its debt without calamity. The population is ageing, fewer Japanese children are being born to support the debt mountain and companies are becoming less competitive against Asian rivals.
The doomsday theory — the reason that some have taken enormous short positions on Japanese government bonds — is that bond yields eventually rise to unsustainable levels and Japan, despite its stability and financial might, skirts closer to sovereign default.
A second view, held by veteran Japan-watchers and domestic economists, is that the red flags waved above bonds are ill-argued and unnecessarily bloodcurdling. The situation is startling — but it is manageable, the veterans say, because the bond market is a relatively closed loop: 96 per cent of them are held by Japanese people, institutions and arms of government.
The Japanese household may be saving less these days, but the entire pool of private sector savings is still, by far, the world’s largest. Critics of the doomsday argument do not dismiss Japan’s fiscal problems — it is undoubtedly an economy with structural problems on a grand scale — but suggest that that it is premature to panic.
The ratio of gross debt to GDP, according to a recent study by the National Bureau of Economic Research, is not a true gauge of fiscal health. When Japan’s net debt to GDP is compared with other leading economies, it is about the same as Italy’s and not alarmingly worse than Britain’s. In terms of debt servicing costs, Japan is in better shape than Britain, America, France and Germany.
Additionally, Jonathan Allum, the KBC strategist, said that the recent rise in Japanese bond yields had been overplayed as a force for evil. Between October 6 and November 6, yields on the ten-year note did move from 1.24 per cent to 1.45 per cent, before giving ground back to 1.3 per cent last week. “But yields were rising globally during that period and the impartial observer will be impressed not by the speed of the rise in yields, by just how low they remain by any historic standards save those of modern Japan,” Mr Allum said.
However, he added: “Another and even larger dog has failed to bark in the fiscal night: if Japan is really teetering on the edge of a financial volcano, why is the yen so strong?”
Tough times for Japanese baseball
By THE ASSOCIATED PRESS
TOKYO - Facing losses of US$3.3 million in 2010, Japanese professional baseball is considering a series of international games involving Japan's national team to bring in revenue.
The owners of Japan's 12 professional teams discussed the proposal at league meetings on Wednesday, the Nikkan Sports newspaper reported Thursday.
Under the proposal being discussed, Japan's national team would play as many as 20 international exhibition games in February, March, July and November.
Only players in Japan would take part. Major league players would not be part of the team.
The opponents and venues have yet to be discussed, an official with Nippon Professional Baseball said Thursday.
Baseball is the most popular sport in Japan but is struggling amid the global financial crises like many other sports here.
Yamaha Jubilo rugby club announced Monday it was releasing all its professional players as part of cost-cutting measures by the team's owners Yamaha Motors.
Earlier this month Toyota, the world's largest automaker, withdrew its team from Formula One. Honda pulled out of F1 a year ago, while Subaru and Suzuki withdrew from the World Rally Championship ahead of the 2009 season.
TOKYO - Facing losses of US$3.3 million in 2010, Japanese professional baseball is considering a series of international games involving Japan's national team to bring in revenue.
The owners of Japan's 12 professional teams discussed the proposal at league meetings on Wednesday, the Nikkan Sports newspaper reported Thursday.
Under the proposal being discussed, Japan's national team would play as many as 20 international exhibition games in February, March, July and November.
Only players in Japan would take part. Major league players would not be part of the team.
The opponents and venues have yet to be discussed, an official with Nippon Professional Baseball said Thursday.
Baseball is the most popular sport in Japan but is struggling amid the global financial crises like many other sports here.
Yamaha Jubilo rugby club announced Monday it was releasing all its professional players as part of cost-cutting measures by the team's owners Yamaha Motors.
Earlier this month Toyota, the world's largest automaker, withdrew its team from Formula One. Honda pulled out of F1 a year ago, while Subaru and Suzuki withdrew from the World Rally Championship ahead of the 2009 season.
This Day in History: Mishima commits ritual suicide
On this day in 1970, world-renowned Japanese writer Yukio Mishima commits suicide after failing to win public support for his often extreme political beliefs.
Born in 1925, Mishima was obsessed with what he saw as the spiritual barrenness of modern life. He preferred prewar Japan, with its austere patriotism and traditional values, to the materialistic, westernized nation that arose after 1945. In this spirit, he founded the “Shield Society,” a controversial private army made up of about 100 students that was to defend the emperor in the event of a leftist uprising.
Mishima wrote his first notable novel in 1948, “Confessions of a Mask.” It was translated into English ten years later and the title was a perfect one to convey the pre-liberation, closeted years of gay life.
Mishima was open about his ambiguous sexuality, but also conservative in terms of nationalism and militarism. His search for purity in those areas drove him to commit ritual suicide, seppuku, self-disembowelment, in 1970.
On November 25, Mishima delivered to his publisher the last installment of The Sea of Fertility, his four-volume epic on Japanese life in the 20th century that is regarded as his greatest work. He then went with several followers to a military building in Tokyo and seized control of a general’s office. There, from a balcony, he gave a brief speech to about 1,000 assembled servicemen, in which he urged them to overthrow Japan’s constitution, which forbids Japanese rearmament. The soldiers were unsympathetic, as they shouted at him “You’re not even logical,” and Mishima committed ritual suicide, by disemboweling himself with his sword.
Though his extreme beliefs did not gain him much of a following, many mourned the loss of such a gifted author.
Paul Schrader adapted his novels into cinema. The movie “Delirious” scoffs at the idea of purity in art, but Schrader’s biopic “Mishima,” on the other hand, beautifully conceived, seems to reveal how the quest for purity in art and life can be disastrous. Divided into life segments and chapters from his novels, the movie blurs Mishima’s life and art, probably just as Mishima himself saw little distinction between the two.
Born in 1925, Mishima was obsessed with what he saw as the spiritual barrenness of modern life. He preferred prewar Japan, with its austere patriotism and traditional values, to the materialistic, westernized nation that arose after 1945. In this spirit, he founded the “Shield Society,” a controversial private army made up of about 100 students that was to defend the emperor in the event of a leftist uprising.
Mishima wrote his first notable novel in 1948, “Confessions of a Mask.” It was translated into English ten years later and the title was a perfect one to convey the pre-liberation, closeted years of gay life.
Mishima was open about his ambiguous sexuality, but also conservative in terms of nationalism and militarism. His search for purity in those areas drove him to commit ritual suicide, seppuku, self-disembowelment, in 1970.
On November 25, Mishima delivered to his publisher the last installment of The Sea of Fertility, his four-volume epic on Japanese life in the 20th century that is regarded as his greatest work. He then went with several followers to a military building in Tokyo and seized control of a general’s office. There, from a balcony, he gave a brief speech to about 1,000 assembled servicemen, in which he urged them to overthrow Japan’s constitution, which forbids Japanese rearmament. The soldiers were unsympathetic, as they shouted at him “You’re not even logical,” and Mishima committed ritual suicide, by disemboweling himself with his sword.
Though his extreme beliefs did not gain him much of a following, many mourned the loss of such a gifted author.
Paul Schrader adapted his novels into cinema. The movie “Delirious” scoffs at the idea of purity in art, but Schrader’s biopic “Mishima,” on the other hand, beautifully conceived, seems to reveal how the quest for purity in art and life can be disastrous. Divided into life segments and chapters from his novels, the movie blurs Mishima’s life and art, probably just as Mishima himself saw little distinction between the two.
“Stalin’s Legacy” debate stirs strong emotions
11:0723/11/2009
Over 100 people attended a public debate on “Stalin’s Legacy for Russia”, which was hosted by independent English-language weekly newspaper The Moscow News on November 16. Strong points of view, both criticizing and praising the Soviet-era dictator, were expressed by speakers and members of the audience, in a passionate, yet civilized discussion – which took place at RIA Novosti’s press center. While some participants argued that Russia would have been better off under the Tsars, others said that Stalin had betrayed the ideas of the 1917 revolution and through his purges was trying to destroy the ideas of democratic socialism. The main conclusion drawn by many in the audience was that the bloody lessons of Russian history teach us to fight for a better society.
Two sides to Japanese health care
By Blaine Harden - The Washington Post
TOKYO - Half a world away from the U.S. health care debate, Japan has a system that costs half as much and often achieves better medical outcomes than its American counterpart. It does so by banning insurance company profits, limiting doctor fees and accepting shortcomings in care that many well-insured Americans would find intolerable.
The Japanese visit a doctor nearly 14 times a year, more than four times as often as Americans. They can choose any primary care physician or specialist they want, and surveys show they are almost always seen on the day they want. All that medical care helps keep the Japanese alive longer than any other people on Earth while fostering one of the world's lowest infant mortality rates.
Health care in Japan - a hybrid system funded by job-based insurance premiums and taxes - is universal and mandatory, and consumes about 8 percent of the nation's gross domestic product, half as much as in the United States. Unlike in the U.S. system, no one is denied coverage because of a pre-existing condition or goes bankrupt because a family member gets sick.
But many health care economists say Japan's low-cost system is probably not sustainable without significant change. Japan already has the world's oldest population; by 2050, 40 percent will be 65 or older. The disease mix is becoming more expensive to treat, as rates of cancer, stroke and Alzheimer's disease steadily increase. Demand for medical care will triple in the next 25 years, according to a recent analysis by McKinsey & Co., a consulting firm.
Japan has a stagnant economy, with a shortage of young people that hobbles prospects for growth and strangles the capacity of the debt-strapped government to increase health-care spending. Without reform, costs are projected to double, reaching current U.S. levels in a decade, according to the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD).
For generations, Japan has achieved its successes by maintaining a vise-like grip on costs. After hard bargaining with medical providers every two years, the government sets a price for treatment and drugs - and tolerates no fudging.
As a result, most Japanese doctors make far less money than their U.S. counterparts. Administrative costs are four times lower than they are in the United States, in part because insurance companies do not set rates for treatment or deny claims. By law, they cannot make profits or advertise to attract low-risk, high-profit clients.
To keep costs down, Japan has made tradeoffs in other areas - sometimes to the detriment of patients. Some are merely irritating, such as routine hour-long waits before doctor appointments. But others involve worrisome questions about quality control and gaps in treatment for urgent care.
Japanese hospitals experience a "crowding out" effect, with space for emergency care and serious medical conditions sometimes overwhelmed by a flood of patients seeking routine treatment, said Naohiro Yashiro, a professor of economics and health care expert at International Christian University in Tokyo.
"Patients are treated too equally," he said. "Beds are occupied by less-urgent cases, and there are no penalties for those who over-use the system."
The government has largely been unable to reduce the length of hospital stays, which are four times as long in Japan as in the United States. Hospital doctors are often overworked and cannot hone specialized life-saving skills, according to recent reports by McKinsey. Statistics show that the Japanese are much less likely to have heart attacks than people in the United States, but that when they do, their chance of dying is twice as high.
There are shortages of obstetricians, anesthesiologists and emergency room specialists because of relatively low pay, long hours and high stress at many hospitals, doctors and health care analysts said. Emergency room service is often spotty, as ER beds in many hospitals are limited and diagnostic expertise is sometimes lacking. In a highly publicized but not unprecedented incident, a pregnant woman complaining of a severe headache was refused admission last year to seven Tokyo hospitals. She died of an undiagnosed brain hemorrhage after giving birth.
"We are in a hospital desert at night," said Yashiro, citing insufficient pay incentives for the robust 24-hour staffing common at large U.S. hospitals.
Skilled doctors tend to leave Japanese hospitals for the higher pay and predictable hours of private clinics. There, they become primary-care doctors, making up for low treatment fees with astonishingly high volume, seeing patients in an assembly-line process that leaves little time for questions.
Toshihiko Oba had spent most of his medical career in hospitals. As an ear, nose and throat specialist, he worked 80-hour weeks for 13 years, with an annual salary of $100,000. The average salary for a hospital-based doctor in Japan is about $150,000, according to the Ministry of Health.
"The money was not so good and you have lots of responsibility and pressure," said Oba, 47.
Five years ago, he made a career change common for Japanese doctors at the pinnacle of their careers. He left the hospital and opened a private clinic, and now treats mainly colds and allergies.
In his office in Tokyo's upscale Ginza district, Oba works from 9:30 a.m. to 7 p.m., five days a week. He said he works fast, typically treating 150 patients a day, usually for about three minutes each.
Volume has allowed him to increase his income greatly, Oba said, although he declined to be specific. Most doctors in Japan who jump from hospitals to private clinics double their income, according to the Ministry of Health. Medical malpractice insurance in Japan is not a major expense for many doctors, in part because there are relatively few lawyers. Oba pays only about $1,000 a year.
One of the great strengths of Japan's health care system - the ability to see the doctor of one's choice and be seen quickly - has become one of the greatest curses for controlling health care quality and costs, experts here agree.
There is no gatekeeper for medical care or for hospital stays.
"The government has been trying for more than 20 years to put up gates," said Naoki Ikegami, professor of health policy and management at the Keio University School of Medicine in Tokyo. "But we don't train general practitioners to be gatekeepers."
Japan also has about three times as many hospitals per capita as the United States does. The government has tried to limit hospital beds, but with little success because of institutional inertia and a cultural preference for in-patient treatment. New mothers in Japan often stay in a hospital five days after a routine delivery; in the United States, they rarely stay for more than one or two.
Japan's health care system mixes socialism with individual responsibility and market forces. The government pays one-quarter of the total health care bill, and employers and workers pay the rest through mandatory insurance.
"More than one-third of the workers' premiums are used to transfer wealth from the young, healthy and rich to the old, unhealthy and poor," Ikegami said.
Workers at major corporations pay about 4 percent of their salary to a company-based insurance provider. These premiums are limited to $6,000 a year, but the average salary worker pays $1,931, the government says. Job-based insurance in the United States costs the typical employee $3,354 a year, according to the U.S.-based National Coalition on Health Care.
In Japan, employers pay premiums that match each employee's contribution. In the United States, where health insurance is far more expensive, employers pay private insurers three or four times the amount contributed by each employee.
The self-employed and the unemployed in Japan must pay about $1,600 a year for insurance coverage. In addition, working-age patients are required to make a 30-percent co-payment for treatment and drugs - the highest such fee in the world. But those payments tend to be relatively low because of the tight lid on costs. If the co-payment exceeds $863 in any month, it drops to 1 percent of additional medical bills.
Hana Mukai, a fashion merchandiser in Tokyo, said she can't think of anything wrong with health care in Japan.
She takes her son Yugo, 4, to an ear, nose and throat specialist nearly every week during the cold and flu season. They go about 12 times a year, often when her son has a runny nose. She does not need to make an appointment, but has to wait about 75 minutes to see the doctor.
The doctor checks his ears, irrigates his nose and prescribes medicine. The visit usually lasts a few minutes, and it is free. There is supposed to be a co-payment, but Mukai's local ward government covers all medical costs for children, which is common in much of Japan. Mukai says she never buys over-the-counter drugs for Yugo, because prescribed drugs for children are also free.
As for her own health care costs, she says they are either invisible or negligible. She has never checked to see how much she pays through payroll deductions for health-care premiums. The co-payment for doctor visits is insignificant, she says, since the total bill for most visits comes to less than $30, including drugs.
"I know my medical fee is going to be cheap, so I have never, ever thought about how much it will cost me to go to the doctor," said Mukai, 39.
The health of Mukai, her husband and her son - and of nearly everyone in Japan - also benefits from free annual checkups. Japan requires companies to pay for annual physicals for employees.
Local and national governments also push preventive care. Since Mukai is nearly 40, her local ward government has notified her that she can sign up for a comprehensive, and free, battery of tests. Doctors will examine her eyes and teeth, and they will test for colon, stomach and cervical cancer. She will also receive a free gynecological workup.
For her son, an internal medicine specialist and a dentist visit his public day-care center twice a year to conduct free examinations. Once a year at day care, he is examined at no cost by two other doctors for potential eye, nose and ear problems.
The health care system, though, does not deserve all the credit for the relatively robust health of the Japanese. Diet and lifestyle are generally healthier than they are in the United States. There is less violent crime, fewer car accidents and much less obesity. Only about 3 percent of Japanese are obese, compared with more than 30 percent of Americans, according to the OECD.
Still, Western food has encroached on the diet, and there are increasing numbers of sedentary, overweight Japanese. As part of the preventive focus of health care, the government is pushing back against obesity-related health problems - known here as "metabolic syndrome" - in ways that probably would astonish Americans.
There is compulsory obesity screening for 70 percent of the population. If people are found to be too fat around the waist, they are required to receive counseling on exercise and diet.
The law was passed three years ago, so it is too soon to know whether screening and counseling are effective. But health care experts agree that the government has succeeded in making nearly everyone worry about fat, while thinking more about what they eat and how often they exercise.
It puzzles Mukai that the United States does not imitate the best parts of her country's health care system, particularly preventive care, universal coverage and free treatment for children.
"If the Japanese can do it, why can't the Americans?" she said.
Post special correspondent Akiko Yamamoto contributed to this report.
TOKYO - Half a world away from the U.S. health care debate, Japan has a system that costs half as much and often achieves better medical outcomes than its American counterpart. It does so by banning insurance company profits, limiting doctor fees and accepting shortcomings in care that many well-insured Americans would find intolerable.
The Japanese visit a doctor nearly 14 times a year, more than four times as often as Americans. They can choose any primary care physician or specialist they want, and surveys show they are almost always seen on the day they want. All that medical care helps keep the Japanese alive longer than any other people on Earth while fostering one of the world's lowest infant mortality rates.
Health care in Japan - a hybrid system funded by job-based insurance premiums and taxes - is universal and mandatory, and consumes about 8 percent of the nation's gross domestic product, half as much as in the United States. Unlike in the U.S. system, no one is denied coverage because of a pre-existing condition or goes bankrupt because a family member gets sick.
But many health care economists say Japan's low-cost system is probably not sustainable without significant change. Japan already has the world's oldest population; by 2050, 40 percent will be 65 or older. The disease mix is becoming more expensive to treat, as rates of cancer, stroke and Alzheimer's disease steadily increase. Demand for medical care will triple in the next 25 years, according to a recent analysis by McKinsey & Co., a consulting firm.
Japan has a stagnant economy, with a shortage of young people that hobbles prospects for growth and strangles the capacity of the debt-strapped government to increase health-care spending. Without reform, costs are projected to double, reaching current U.S. levels in a decade, according to the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD).
For generations, Japan has achieved its successes by maintaining a vise-like grip on costs. After hard bargaining with medical providers every two years, the government sets a price for treatment and drugs - and tolerates no fudging.
As a result, most Japanese doctors make far less money than their U.S. counterparts. Administrative costs are four times lower than they are in the United States, in part because insurance companies do not set rates for treatment or deny claims. By law, they cannot make profits or advertise to attract low-risk, high-profit clients.
To keep costs down, Japan has made tradeoffs in other areas - sometimes to the detriment of patients. Some are merely irritating, such as routine hour-long waits before doctor appointments. But others involve worrisome questions about quality control and gaps in treatment for urgent care.
Japanese hospitals experience a "crowding out" effect, with space for emergency care and serious medical conditions sometimes overwhelmed by a flood of patients seeking routine treatment, said Naohiro Yashiro, a professor of economics and health care expert at International Christian University in Tokyo.
"Patients are treated too equally," he said. "Beds are occupied by less-urgent cases, and there are no penalties for those who over-use the system."
The government has largely been unable to reduce the length of hospital stays, which are four times as long in Japan as in the United States. Hospital doctors are often overworked and cannot hone specialized life-saving skills, according to recent reports by McKinsey. Statistics show that the Japanese are much less likely to have heart attacks than people in the United States, but that when they do, their chance of dying is twice as high.
There are shortages of obstetricians, anesthesiologists and emergency room specialists because of relatively low pay, long hours and high stress at many hospitals, doctors and health care analysts said. Emergency room service is often spotty, as ER beds in many hospitals are limited and diagnostic expertise is sometimes lacking. In a highly publicized but not unprecedented incident, a pregnant woman complaining of a severe headache was refused admission last year to seven Tokyo hospitals. She died of an undiagnosed brain hemorrhage after giving birth.
"We are in a hospital desert at night," said Yashiro, citing insufficient pay incentives for the robust 24-hour staffing common at large U.S. hospitals.
Skilled doctors tend to leave Japanese hospitals for the higher pay and predictable hours of private clinics. There, they become primary-care doctors, making up for low treatment fees with astonishingly high volume, seeing patients in an assembly-line process that leaves little time for questions.
Toshihiko Oba had spent most of his medical career in hospitals. As an ear, nose and throat specialist, he worked 80-hour weeks for 13 years, with an annual salary of $100,000. The average salary for a hospital-based doctor in Japan is about $150,000, according to the Ministry of Health.
"The money was not so good and you have lots of responsibility and pressure," said Oba, 47.
Five years ago, he made a career change common for Japanese doctors at the pinnacle of their careers. He left the hospital and opened a private clinic, and now treats mainly colds and allergies.
In his office in Tokyo's upscale Ginza district, Oba works from 9:30 a.m. to 7 p.m., five days a week. He said he works fast, typically treating 150 patients a day, usually for about three minutes each.
Volume has allowed him to increase his income greatly, Oba said, although he declined to be specific. Most doctors in Japan who jump from hospitals to private clinics double their income, according to the Ministry of Health. Medical malpractice insurance in Japan is not a major expense for many doctors, in part because there are relatively few lawyers. Oba pays only about $1,000 a year.
One of the great strengths of Japan's health care system - the ability to see the doctor of one's choice and be seen quickly - has become one of the greatest curses for controlling health care quality and costs, experts here agree.
There is no gatekeeper for medical care or for hospital stays.
"The government has been trying for more than 20 years to put up gates," said Naoki Ikegami, professor of health policy and management at the Keio University School of Medicine in Tokyo. "But we don't train general practitioners to be gatekeepers."
Japan also has about three times as many hospitals per capita as the United States does. The government has tried to limit hospital beds, but with little success because of institutional inertia and a cultural preference for in-patient treatment. New mothers in Japan often stay in a hospital five days after a routine delivery; in the United States, they rarely stay for more than one or two.
Japan's health care system mixes socialism with individual responsibility and market forces. The government pays one-quarter of the total health care bill, and employers and workers pay the rest through mandatory insurance.
"More than one-third of the workers' premiums are used to transfer wealth from the young, healthy and rich to the old, unhealthy and poor," Ikegami said.
Workers at major corporations pay about 4 percent of their salary to a company-based insurance provider. These premiums are limited to $6,000 a year, but the average salary worker pays $1,931, the government says. Job-based insurance in the United States costs the typical employee $3,354 a year, according to the U.S.-based National Coalition on Health Care.
In Japan, employers pay premiums that match each employee's contribution. In the United States, where health insurance is far more expensive, employers pay private insurers three or four times the amount contributed by each employee.
The self-employed and the unemployed in Japan must pay about $1,600 a year for insurance coverage. In addition, working-age patients are required to make a 30-percent co-payment for treatment and drugs - the highest such fee in the world. But those payments tend to be relatively low because of the tight lid on costs. If the co-payment exceeds $863 in any month, it drops to 1 percent of additional medical bills.
Hana Mukai, a fashion merchandiser in Tokyo, said she can't think of anything wrong with health care in Japan.
She takes her son Yugo, 4, to an ear, nose and throat specialist nearly every week during the cold and flu season. They go about 12 times a year, often when her son has a runny nose. She does not need to make an appointment, but has to wait about 75 minutes to see the doctor.
The doctor checks his ears, irrigates his nose and prescribes medicine. The visit usually lasts a few minutes, and it is free. There is supposed to be a co-payment, but Mukai's local ward government covers all medical costs for children, which is common in much of Japan. Mukai says she never buys over-the-counter drugs for Yugo, because prescribed drugs for children are also free.
As for her own health care costs, she says they are either invisible or negligible. She has never checked to see how much she pays through payroll deductions for health-care premiums. The co-payment for doctor visits is insignificant, she says, since the total bill for most visits comes to less than $30, including drugs.
"I know my medical fee is going to be cheap, so I have never, ever thought about how much it will cost me to go to the doctor," said Mukai, 39.
The health of Mukai, her husband and her son - and of nearly everyone in Japan - also benefits from free annual checkups. Japan requires companies to pay for annual physicals for employees.
Local and national governments also push preventive care. Since Mukai is nearly 40, her local ward government has notified her that she can sign up for a comprehensive, and free, battery of tests. Doctors will examine her eyes and teeth, and they will test for colon, stomach and cervical cancer. She will also receive a free gynecological workup.
For her son, an internal medicine specialist and a dentist visit his public day-care center twice a year to conduct free examinations. Once a year at day care, he is examined at no cost by two other doctors for potential eye, nose and ear problems.
The health care system, though, does not deserve all the credit for the relatively robust health of the Japanese. Diet and lifestyle are generally healthier than they are in the United States. There is less violent crime, fewer car accidents and much less obesity. Only about 3 percent of Japanese are obese, compared with more than 30 percent of Americans, according to the OECD.
Still, Western food has encroached on the diet, and there are increasing numbers of sedentary, overweight Japanese. As part of the preventive focus of health care, the government is pushing back against obesity-related health problems - known here as "metabolic syndrome" - in ways that probably would astonish Americans.
There is compulsory obesity screening for 70 percent of the population. If people are found to be too fat around the waist, they are required to receive counseling on exercise and diet.
The law was passed three years ago, so it is too soon to know whether screening and counseling are effective. But health care experts agree that the government has succeeded in making nearly everyone worry about fat, while thinking more about what they eat and how often they exercise.
It puzzles Mukai that the United States does not imitate the best parts of her country's health care system, particularly preventive care, universal coverage and free treatment for children.
"If the Japanese can do it, why can't the Americans?" she said.
Post special correspondent Akiko Yamamoto contributed to this report.
IBM Bets On Beijing
Technology
Andy Greenberg, 11.30.09, 12:00 AM ET
The cameras that watch over hundreds of street intersections in the northeastern Chinese city of Shenyang (pop. 7.2 million) aren't the sort of technology that pleases privacy advocates or taxi drivers. As in many Chinese metropolises, those robotic eyes--often hidden in small black orbs suspended from lampposts--capture license plate numbers of red-light runners and pass the data to transit cops who mail tickets to offenders.
But Min Wanli, a researcher in IBM's Beijing research lab, wants to exploit those traffic watchdogs for a friendlier purpose. Pulling together automobile movements aggregated from Shenyang's nearly 1,000 cameras as well as sensors beneath its roads, Min says he can predict the time and location of a traffic jam with 85% certainty up to an hour in the future. A few prescient changes of a red light to green or the opening of an extra lane, he says, could evaporate rush-hour congestion before it appears.
"The government has already spent billions around the country collecting this data," says Min. "We just need to make sense of it."
Over the last decade IBM has mutated from a seller of servers and mainframes to a company that pulled in 57% of its $103 billion in 2008 revenue from advising businesses and running their information technology operations. Its latest offering involves making infrastructure "smart." That means supplying the expertise to run the technology behind power utilities, rail, health and traffic systems. The bigger the problem, the more IBM says it stands to profit as a consultant and integrator across hardware, software and services.
Corralling an urban car population--a trick IBM is currently testing in Singapore--is just one piece of the company's ambitions for Shenyang. In September IBM signed a deal with the city government to make it more ecologically benign by reducing carbon emissions, as well as monitoring the city's water quality and food-supply chain.
Shenyang isn't an IBM customer so much as a guinea pig. The city is pitching in $44 million for a joint research project with IBM, which says it's investing at least as much in man-hours and intellectual property. In return IBM gets a large-scale test bed for its urban infrastructure technologies. The market for this kind of work could be worth several billion dollars a year: China has 118 cities with populations over 1 million.
But there's a danger to collaborating with China's authoritarian government. One project IBM is negotiating to handle in the southern city of Kunshan could include a police system for mining criminal data and triangulating suspect locations from surveillance cameras and cell phone emergency calls. Connecting the dots to human rights abuses wouldn't be hard. "This is a government that will use IBM's tools to track down people engaged in the legitimate exercise of their rights: lawyers, writers and activists," says Sharon Hom, director of the advocacy group Human Rights in China.
IBM execs argue the company sticks to a set of guidelines that it applies globally. "We only do work that will improve the way the world works," says Franklin Kern, head of IBM's consulting arm.
Most of China's problems, to be sure, are far less controversial--and far larger. The country has doubled its energy consumption since the year 2000, according to energy tracker Carbon Monitoring for Action. To meet increasing demand, a new coal-fired power plant big enough to power Kansas City comes online in China every eight or nine days. China's carbon dioxide emissions have doubled this decade, surpassing those of the U.S. The number of cars in China, now 25 million, is growing 25% a year, creating traffic crises. To counteract the trend the government plans over the next five years to add 12,000 miles of high-speed rail, more than will be added in all the rest of the world.
The rewards for those who can grab a piece of this buildout are China-size, too. Last year the central government announced a $656 billion stimulus package, including $400 billion aimed at expanding infrastructure. Some $2.3 billion of that will go to information technology aimed at the power grid and $2 billion to data systems for rail, all to be spent in 2010, according to the China Center for Information Industry Development, a government-run think tank. After that initial infusion info technology spending will continue to grow, the CCID predicts, at a clip of 10% a year for power systems and 30% a year for rail.
"Every level of government in China is talking about this," says IBM's head of research in China, Thomas Li. "They have the need. We have the ability."
Since January IBM has been parachuting senior executives into Beijing to launch new divisions aimed at getting rail and power grid projects. Bradley Gammons, IBM's head of energy and utilities sales, moved to Beijing in September to start an energy-and-utilities solution center aimed at building so-called smart grids. These add sensors to power grids to predict outages and integrate unpredictable power sources like wind and solar. Gammons is overseeing several as yet undisclosed smart grid research projects with China's State Grid, the government-run utility that controls most of the country's electricity. It plans to implement nine projects next year.
Keith Dierkx, IBM's most senior rail-focused exec, moved to Beijing over the summer to start a rail innovation center. The center is working on methods of monitoring rail tracks with pressure and acoustic sensors built into train cars, a system that would pinpoint defective tracks before they cause a derailment.
Competitors are also eyeing the tech opportunities in China's infrastructure explosion. Accenture, for instance, says it has launched ten smart-grid pilot projects in the country. Hewlett-Packard and Oracle will vie for hardware and software contracts. But IBM remains the only company that sells hardware, software and the consulting services to integrate them into complex infrastructure projects.
IBM's history in China also goes back further than most competitors. The company first sold a punch card tabulator to a Beijing hospital in 1934. After fleeing the country in the 1949 revolution, IBM ventured back in 1979 following Mao Zedong's death, selling through Chinese partners in the early days of the country's reform and opening period. Even after 1989's Tiananmen massacre and the crackdown on dissidents that followed, IBM held fast, creating a Chinese subsidiary in 1992 and tightening its ties to China and its government.
Are those ties to China's dictatorship too tight? Claudia Fan Munce, the Taiwan-born head of IBM's venture capital group, answers diplomatically. "The government has a strong arm," she says. "But right now they're focused on innovation. And so are we."
By The Numbers: Ultra-Infrastructure
China's backbone buildout offers huge opportunities--and dwarfs what's happening in the U.S.
Coal-fired power plants in use in 20201
U.S.: 420
China: 1250
Investment in renewable energy through 20202
U.S.: $36 billion
China: $208 billion
Government stimulus for high-speed rail
U.S.: $8 billion
China: $100 billion
1Assuming carbon limits; 600 megawatt plants. 2Assuming carbon limits. Sources: International Energy Agency; China Center for Information Industry Development; U.S. Congress.
Andy Greenberg, 11.30.09, 12:00 AM ET
The cameras that watch over hundreds of street intersections in the northeastern Chinese city of Shenyang (pop. 7.2 million) aren't the sort of technology that pleases privacy advocates or taxi drivers. As in many Chinese metropolises, those robotic eyes--often hidden in small black orbs suspended from lampposts--capture license plate numbers of red-light runners and pass the data to transit cops who mail tickets to offenders.
But Min Wanli, a researcher in IBM's Beijing research lab, wants to exploit those traffic watchdogs for a friendlier purpose. Pulling together automobile movements aggregated from Shenyang's nearly 1,000 cameras as well as sensors beneath its roads, Min says he can predict the time and location of a traffic jam with 85% certainty up to an hour in the future. A few prescient changes of a red light to green or the opening of an extra lane, he says, could evaporate rush-hour congestion before it appears.
"The government has already spent billions around the country collecting this data," says Min. "We just need to make sense of it."
Over the last decade IBM has mutated from a seller of servers and mainframes to a company that pulled in 57% of its $103 billion in 2008 revenue from advising businesses and running their information technology operations. Its latest offering involves making infrastructure "smart." That means supplying the expertise to run the technology behind power utilities, rail, health and traffic systems. The bigger the problem, the more IBM says it stands to profit as a consultant and integrator across hardware, software and services.
Corralling an urban car population--a trick IBM is currently testing in Singapore--is just one piece of the company's ambitions for Shenyang. In September IBM signed a deal with the city government to make it more ecologically benign by reducing carbon emissions, as well as monitoring the city's water quality and food-supply chain.
Shenyang isn't an IBM customer so much as a guinea pig. The city is pitching in $44 million for a joint research project with IBM, which says it's investing at least as much in man-hours and intellectual property. In return IBM gets a large-scale test bed for its urban infrastructure technologies. The market for this kind of work could be worth several billion dollars a year: China has 118 cities with populations over 1 million.
But there's a danger to collaborating with China's authoritarian government. One project IBM is negotiating to handle in the southern city of Kunshan could include a police system for mining criminal data and triangulating suspect locations from surveillance cameras and cell phone emergency calls. Connecting the dots to human rights abuses wouldn't be hard. "This is a government that will use IBM's tools to track down people engaged in the legitimate exercise of their rights: lawyers, writers and activists," says Sharon Hom, director of the advocacy group Human Rights in China.
IBM execs argue the company sticks to a set of guidelines that it applies globally. "We only do work that will improve the way the world works," says Franklin Kern, head of IBM's consulting arm.
Most of China's problems, to be sure, are far less controversial--and far larger. The country has doubled its energy consumption since the year 2000, according to energy tracker Carbon Monitoring for Action. To meet increasing demand, a new coal-fired power plant big enough to power Kansas City comes online in China every eight or nine days. China's carbon dioxide emissions have doubled this decade, surpassing those of the U.S. The number of cars in China, now 25 million, is growing 25% a year, creating traffic crises. To counteract the trend the government plans over the next five years to add 12,000 miles of high-speed rail, more than will be added in all the rest of the world.
The rewards for those who can grab a piece of this buildout are China-size, too. Last year the central government announced a $656 billion stimulus package, including $400 billion aimed at expanding infrastructure. Some $2.3 billion of that will go to information technology aimed at the power grid and $2 billion to data systems for rail, all to be spent in 2010, according to the China Center for Information Industry Development, a government-run think tank. After that initial infusion info technology spending will continue to grow, the CCID predicts, at a clip of 10% a year for power systems and 30% a year for rail.
"Every level of government in China is talking about this," says IBM's head of research in China, Thomas Li. "They have the need. We have the ability."
Since January IBM has been parachuting senior executives into Beijing to launch new divisions aimed at getting rail and power grid projects. Bradley Gammons, IBM's head of energy and utilities sales, moved to Beijing in September to start an energy-and-utilities solution center aimed at building so-called smart grids. These add sensors to power grids to predict outages and integrate unpredictable power sources like wind and solar. Gammons is overseeing several as yet undisclosed smart grid research projects with China's State Grid, the government-run utility that controls most of the country's electricity. It plans to implement nine projects next year.
Keith Dierkx, IBM's most senior rail-focused exec, moved to Beijing over the summer to start a rail innovation center. The center is working on methods of monitoring rail tracks with pressure and acoustic sensors built into train cars, a system that would pinpoint defective tracks before they cause a derailment.
Competitors are also eyeing the tech opportunities in China's infrastructure explosion. Accenture, for instance, says it has launched ten smart-grid pilot projects in the country. Hewlett-Packard and Oracle will vie for hardware and software contracts. But IBM remains the only company that sells hardware, software and the consulting services to integrate them into complex infrastructure projects.
IBM's history in China also goes back further than most competitors. The company first sold a punch card tabulator to a Beijing hospital in 1934. After fleeing the country in the 1949 revolution, IBM ventured back in 1979 following Mao Zedong's death, selling through Chinese partners in the early days of the country's reform and opening period. Even after 1989's Tiananmen massacre and the crackdown on dissidents that followed, IBM held fast, creating a Chinese subsidiary in 1992 and tightening its ties to China and its government.
Are those ties to China's dictatorship too tight? Claudia Fan Munce, the Taiwan-born head of IBM's venture capital group, answers diplomatically. "The government has a strong arm," she says. "But right now they're focused on innovation. And so are we."
By The Numbers: Ultra-Infrastructure
China's backbone buildout offers huge opportunities--and dwarfs what's happening in the U.S.
Coal-fired power plants in use in 20201
U.S.: 420
China: 1250
Investment in renewable energy through 20202
U.S.: $36 billion
China: $208 billion
Government stimulus for high-speed rail
U.S.: $8 billion
China: $100 billion
1Assuming carbon limits; 600 megawatt plants. 2Assuming carbon limits. Sources: International Energy Agency; China Center for Information Industry Development; U.S. Congress.
It's not the world's first electric car, but the Nissan Leaf, launched in August, is the first fully electric vehicle built for mass production for the global market. To help drivers shift their thinking from gas to green, Japan's third largest automaker has about 30 partnerships worldwide focused on developing an infrastructure of battery-recharging stations to keep electric vehicles on the roads. The car's top speed is more than 90 m.p.h. (145 km/h), and its range is 100 miles (160 km) on a full charge. When it moves, it makes a futuristic sound like the flying cars in Blade Runner. Nissan will produce 50,000 Leafs each year at its Oppama plant, southwest of Tokyo, starting in the fall of 2010.
Ambassador Frank Lavin, 11.24.09, 1:45 AM ET
HONG KONG -
In the early morning rain of November 16, Secretary of State Hilary Clinton took a side trip from accompanying President Obama to China to visit a construction site in Shanghai. Just hours later, President Obama held a town hall meeting with a group of Shanghai students. These two events might be more closely linked than they first appear. Secretary Clinton's visit was not to just any building site, but to the final phase of construction of the USA National Pavilion for the 2010 Shanghai Exposition (World's Fair). Although the Fair will not open until May 2010, it is something on which Americans should reflect and, if possible, participate. There are three reasons why the Fair is important and one argument for caution.
The first reason is the Fair itself. The Shanghai Expo could prove to be the greatest combination ever of museums, exhibit halls, theaters, amusement parks, scientific displays, pageants, and cultural performances. It will be the largest World's Fair in history, in terms of number of exhibitors (over 240), amount of acreage (over 1200) and number of visitors (projected at over 70 million.) Since the Fair runs for 6 months, this translates into a daily attendance of around 400,000 - one Woodstock a day for 180 days.) The cost will run over $45 billion, a staggering figure for urban redevelopment. But after all, the 70 million fairgoers will make this six-month event not just the largest World's Fair in history, but the largest gathering in human history.
Second is what the fair says about China. The Fair is a national undertaking for China, with the Director General of the Expo Authority accorded Cabinet rank. Anyone who followed the Beijing Olympics last year understands that China does not embark on these initiatives lightly. This is a national project, one that commands the full attention of the Beijing Government. The Fair is an opportunity for China to make a statement about itself to the world and to its own people. The mammoth size of the fair itself is a statement that China views itself second to no one and will use its budget and power accordingly. This is a statement primarily to a domestic audience, as the 70 million fairgoers will be 90% Chinese, but the world will take note. Some might conclude that China is overly concerned about message control or that Chinese leadership is insecure in the need to make such a statement. I believe more will draw a positive conclusion, that as the host for the largest event in the world, it would ill-behoove China to be casual or sloppy about how it presents itself. China is a proud nation and wants to put all the effort it can into hosting the world.
The third reason is what the fair might say about the United States. Every time I visit China, I see a nation that is hungry to learn more about America. The Fair is a chance to share our values, our products, our ideas, and our culture. In short it is "soft power" at its best and that is the reason why Secretary Clinton has taken a leadership role in turning the USA Pavilion into reality. The logic here is that the values Americans cherish are in many respects universal values, shared by people around the world. This was summed up by President Obama in his meeting last week with Shanghai students when he called for freedom of the Internet. Why shouldn't the USA Pavilion include a discussion of the Bill of Rights? Why shouldn't it discuss the long struggle in America for political participation and Civil Rights? Why shouldn't we explain how religious freedoms play an important role in the lives of most Americans? One survey about the Expo by Ogilvy & Mather China showed that the USA Pavilion is expected to be the most popular foreign exhibit for Chinese fairgoers, second only to the Chinese Pavilion. World Fairs are enshrined in American consciousness, but with 60,000 square feet of history, technology, and culture on display in China, the USA Pavilion next year will redefine the experience.
Finally, there is one point to keep in mind about what the Fair is not. The Fair is not a policy mechanism. It is not a platform for trade negotiations, though it will see the introduction of new products. It will not solve human rights issues, though it should strengthen the discussion. It will not guarantee agreement on environmental issues, but it will certainly increase awareness. Whatever complaints or criticisms one has regarding China before the Fair will probably be in place when the Fair is over. But maybe we will have chipped away at some of these issues. And maybe at this largest peaceful gathering of nations in history, Americans will have the opportunity to learn a few things as well.
Americans should come to the fair proud of our story, humble in awareness of our short-comings, willing to learn from others and share experiences, and most of all, ready for fun. See you at the Fair.
HONG KONG -
In the early morning rain of November 16, Secretary of State Hilary Clinton took a side trip from accompanying President Obama to China to visit a construction site in Shanghai. Just hours later, President Obama held a town hall meeting with a group of Shanghai students. These two events might be more closely linked than they first appear. Secretary Clinton's visit was not to just any building site, but to the final phase of construction of the USA National Pavilion for the 2010 Shanghai Exposition (World's Fair). Although the Fair will not open until May 2010, it is something on which Americans should reflect and, if possible, participate. There are three reasons why the Fair is important and one argument for caution.
The first reason is the Fair itself. The Shanghai Expo could prove to be the greatest combination ever of museums, exhibit halls, theaters, amusement parks, scientific displays, pageants, and cultural performances. It will be the largest World's Fair in history, in terms of number of exhibitors (over 240), amount of acreage (over 1200) and number of visitors (projected at over 70 million.) Since the Fair runs for 6 months, this translates into a daily attendance of around 400,000 - one Woodstock a day for 180 days.) The cost will run over $45 billion, a staggering figure for urban redevelopment. But after all, the 70 million fairgoers will make this six-month event not just the largest World's Fair in history, but the largest gathering in human history.
Second is what the fair says about China. The Fair is a national undertaking for China, with the Director General of the Expo Authority accorded Cabinet rank. Anyone who followed the Beijing Olympics last year understands that China does not embark on these initiatives lightly. This is a national project, one that commands the full attention of the Beijing Government. The Fair is an opportunity for China to make a statement about itself to the world and to its own people. The mammoth size of the fair itself is a statement that China views itself second to no one and will use its budget and power accordingly. This is a statement primarily to a domestic audience, as the 70 million fairgoers will be 90% Chinese, but the world will take note. Some might conclude that China is overly concerned about message control or that Chinese leadership is insecure in the need to make such a statement. I believe more will draw a positive conclusion, that as the host for the largest event in the world, it would ill-behoove China to be casual or sloppy about how it presents itself. China is a proud nation and wants to put all the effort it can into hosting the world.
The third reason is what the fair might say about the United States. Every time I visit China, I see a nation that is hungry to learn more about America. The Fair is a chance to share our values, our products, our ideas, and our culture. In short it is "soft power" at its best and that is the reason why Secretary Clinton has taken a leadership role in turning the USA Pavilion into reality. The logic here is that the values Americans cherish are in many respects universal values, shared by people around the world. This was summed up by President Obama in his meeting last week with Shanghai students when he called for freedom of the Internet. Why shouldn't the USA Pavilion include a discussion of the Bill of Rights? Why shouldn't it discuss the long struggle in America for political participation and Civil Rights? Why shouldn't we explain how religious freedoms play an important role in the lives of most Americans? One survey about the Expo by Ogilvy & Mather China showed that the USA Pavilion is expected to be the most popular foreign exhibit for Chinese fairgoers, second only to the Chinese Pavilion. World Fairs are enshrined in American consciousness, but with 60,000 square feet of history, technology, and culture on display in China, the USA Pavilion next year will redefine the experience.
Finally, there is one point to keep in mind about what the Fair is not. The Fair is not a policy mechanism. It is not a platform for trade negotiations, though it will see the introduction of new products. It will not solve human rights issues, though it should strengthen the discussion. It will not guarantee agreement on environmental issues, but it will certainly increase awareness. Whatever complaints or criticisms one has regarding China before the Fair will probably be in place when the Fair is over. But maybe we will have chipped away at some of these issues. And maybe at this largest peaceful gathering of nations in history, Americans will have the opportunity to learn a few things as well.
Americans should come to the fair proud of our story, humble in awareness of our short-comings, willing to learn from others and share experiences, and most of all, ready for fun. See you at the Fair.
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