Notes on the Cathay Pacific Incident
"The effectiveness of political correctness lies in the widespread sympathy held for minority communities."
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Political Correctness and Civil Society
Many may not have noticed: this Cathay Pacific incident was a textbook victory for political correctness.
The chain of events was simple: the person who was discriminated against—let us call them that—posted on social media, generating public pressure that forced Cathay Pacific to handle the staff involved. The previous incident in which “Rachel” was accused of anti-Asian discrimination followed the same pattern.
Yet what makes this case strange is that Hong Kongers seem to regard this kind of discrimination as perfectly normal. Or they connect it to administrative power, leading their outrage toward the perpetually distrusted Hong Kong government. Or they place themselves in the position of the discriminated party, seeing it as discrimination against Hong Kongers. Overseas people mock mainland Chinese for having glass hearts. There is a meme: a child’s head is pinned under a boot, yet the boot belongs to the child’s own hand. Can this meme apply to Hong Kongers as well?
Political correctness is effective because of the widespread sympathy held for minority communities. Because you are a minority and I am a minority, we help each other and speak for each other, becoming the majority together. But in East Asia, the weak are merely objects of pointing and scorn. In Hong Kong, Mainland visitors are unambiguously weak, so speaking Mandarin is fair game for discrimination; not discriminating is a sign of personal civic consciousness, of service professionalism, not of sympathy or a desire to help Mainland visitors. As for even foreign tourists with blond hair and blue eyes facing indifference in Hong Kong when speaking Mandarin—let us chalk that up to an isolated incident.
I have always preferred Taiwan people to Hong Kongers. Perhaps it’s because life in Hong Kong is so pressured that Hong Kong society always feels hostile. Historically, Hong Kong has gone from the home of a wealthy foster parent to that of a poor biological parent; in real life there are indeed many people who resent their own bloodline. Whereas Taiwan is the Orphan of Asia. Thus Hong Kongers pursue a privileged status within the Greater China region, while Taiwan people pursue equality—a difference that cannot be ignored.
The Failure of One Country, Two Systems
The key to interacting with Taiwan people is not to discuss unification or independence. Though I support unification, I refuse to let that view stop me from treating others as human beings. As for unification itself, I have no worry: whether in Chinese-language culture or Japanese-language culture, both sides of the Strait have ample exchange—mainland culture even has more cultural capital, with many bilingual creators. Hong Kong, though border crossings far exceed the Strait every day, is nonetheless a bilingual society; with Cantonese becoming a protected minority in the mainland while Cantonese on the contrary becomes a radar for friend-foe identification in Hong Kong—this reversal is, in some sense, the main cause of cultural fracture.
One Country, Two Systems nominally refers to two social systems, but the referents of “social system” are themselves unclear. A considerable part of the contradiction between the central government and Hong Kong lies in differing interpretations of One Country, Two Systems. If it means only unified military and foreign affairs, how is that different from not having unified at all? It’s no wonder Hong Kongers don’t think of themselves as nationals. True unification must be a full integration of civic communities.
The actual situation today is that the socioeconomic systems of the mainland and Hong Kong have converged considerably; only in social welfare and public services does the Hong Kong government far exceed even Shenzhen across the river. Development doesn’t solve all problems; it reveals problems that even development can’t solve. It might have been better to implement unified policies back in 1997, incorporating Hong Kong into a unified system—at least Hong Kongers would have been prepared for the loss.
Some say the truly common agenda for both mainlanders and Hong Kongers is how to jointly face shared challenges, such as the enormous wealth gap present in both. The former: in the face of a challenge as severe as COVID-19, the Hong Kong government and the central government lacked mutual trust—how can one expect that, in normal times, two sides that view each other with mutual distaste would cooperate meaningfully? Only by both civil societies overcoming difficulties and improving communication.
The Public Power of Media
The conflict between mainland and Hong Kong citizens also lies in their exposure to inconsistent accounts of events. Hong Kong media focus on whether Cathay Pacific flight attendants received unfair treatment, while mainland media prefer to focus on the numerous acts of discriminating against Mandarin speakers.
Various Hong Kong media have been flagged for violating the National Security Law, revealing the inflammatory power of modern media. The Capitol insurrection in the US was driven by media, demonstrating the necessity of media regulation. Yet regulation can only ensure the facts are not distorted; bias itself is hard to condemn, yet easiest to move people.
Speech is personal—it must be protected. But does speech that shapes others’ cognition entail responsibility? In today’s age of algorithmic recommendation, the impact of recommendation algorithms on users is particularly visible. A slight tweak of parameters, leveraging popular social platforms, can alter vast numbers of users’ perceptions of mainstream society; under such bombardment, individual cognition changes far too easily.
With the open spirit of today’s internet completely lost, all manner of subcultures have formed their own closed circles; the great fracture of society is complete. How to heal this fracture remains a problem for governments to consider.