|
Reflections on recent events, plus the occasional fact
free rant unfiltered by rational argument. |
|
27/12/2020 1 Comment The Dating Game. "True romance consisted of three pints of Stones Bitter for courage, then a quick fumble in a bus shelter to the twang of knicker elastic." 'Ghosting', 'cat-fishing', 'pigging' and 'orbiting' — I learnt a whole new language over dinner this week.
Being our wedding anniversary, we had a few friends over, including a single young man lamenting a lack of romance. The conversation soon turned to dating-apps, as I'm schooled in a world hidden from me by marriage. After some cajoling, our guest allowed me access to his Bumble app. He may yet come to regret this. Greeting me was a bevvy of young ladies, who laid out their wares in seeking Mr Right — 'all done in the best possible taste'. This realm is new to me. Back in my youth, before the marvels of the Internet, all dating came limited by geography, your circle of friends and clumsy social skills. Gone are the days of 'My mate Sharon fancies you' or taking the lonely walk unto a group of ladies to make your introduction. Shortly followed by a quick retreat, with my feathers on fire and confidence dented. My chat-up lines are now redundant. Such classics as 'You don't sweat much for a fat lass,' — a dance floor favourite — is consigned to the dustbin of love. True romance consisted of three pints of Stones Bitter for courage, then a quick fumble in a bus shelter to the twang of knicker elastic. Don't disparage it; this is East Yorkshire in the late 1970s. Halcyon days. The pool of available potential-partners always faced constraints. Early humans married their immediate neighbours. Then the horse and bicycle increased the range, as did trains and the internal combustion engine. These days the whole planet is within reach. In the USA, 39 per cent of married couples met online. So, how does it work? Well, you upload a photograph or photographs accompanied by a brief profile of likes and dislikes. The app suggests potential dates and the user swipes left or right. Left sends to person into a loveless wilderness to await their next turn: the system doesn't let them know you've rejected them. Swiping right places them on a list for further exploration, assuming they also give you a right swipe. It's a mutual thing. Within a minute, I'd swiped through 20 plus ladies, adding five to the 'possible' list. My dinner guest would await their response, if any, then seek to engage through WhatsApp. If that went well, they'd set up a meeting and take it from there. He admitted having ten plus such dates, one of which produced an ongoing liaison. I'm ambivalent. Sure, it offered a lot of choices. Yet, I have a distinctly uneasy feeling this is a cattle market. My younger guests disagreed. 'What's the difference between ogling girls in a disco and making a move?' Fair question. I suppose the industrial scale, the algorithms learning your preferences, and the brutal dismissing based on a photograph caused my discomfort. Many of the images flashed up by Bumble benefited from photoshopping, as all the people had flawless skin. Does this artificial inflation of looks create false expectations? Of course, all the ladies presented themselves in their best. In truth, the real sorting would come later. In that sense, you could argue all the dating app does is create choice and a rapid turnover. But, we know that more choice is not always healthy. Still, my doubts linger. Because algorithms pick up likes, the app soon learns to send you a specific type as it seeks to home in on the perfect match. Again, this struck me as sinister. Along the way, a whole range of possible incredible partners gets swept aside because the computer says 'No'. During my small venture in the app, it did throw up two ladies who didn't appear to fit the pattern I'd followed. Perhaps a random element is at work. How about the language of dating apps? 'Ghosting' is the practice of ignoring people, causing them profound stress. In response, a cottage industry evolved around gently letting people down from an encounter that didn't work out. I guess it was inevitable that someone would adopt the apps to the cruel game of 'pigging'. For the uninitiated, 'pigging' refers to the hideous practice (instigated by mostly immature young men) of asking women out as a joke or a prank. The term comes from the fact that the woman in question is unattractive and/or overweight. To be fair, this practice evolved before online dating apps even existed. Meanwhile, 'cat-fishing', involves creating a false identity to compromise or harm someone. There is evidence that 'cat-fishing' produces profound psychological damage for victims and caused suicides. False identities existed before the Internet; the apps put the activity on steroids. The most sinister activity driven by dating apps must be 'orbiting'. Anna Lovine coined the term 'orbiting' for situations when your ex watches your online activities and may seek to re-engage. Again, I suppose this is the Internet equal of the unhinged ex-partner hanging around outside your house. All a bit problematic. Meanwhile, there is an unbroken truth hovering in the background of the dating game. Males tend to marry down and across their social status. On the other hand, females seek out partners who are equal or higher in rank. Thus, by default, high-status women find themselves with a smaller pool of potential partners. For these ladies, dating apps provide a ready solution by doing the sorting. Dating apps aren't for everyone; they remove that first-encounter spark when the total person suddenly engages you. The instant judgemental swiping still strikes me as harsh. Have we conferred marketplace dynamics and a numbers game on a profoundly important human interaction? Thus, the feeling persists, that there is something creepy about the whole business.
1 Comment
12/12/2020 0 Comments Lantau Tomorrow "The 'Lantau Tomorrow Vision' is typical of the concrete pouring solutions of the Hong Kong Government." Hong Kong ranks amongst the most densely populated places on the planet. Add to that a lack of land for development, a shortage of housing and you have sky-high prices. A car-park space can cost the same as a decent-sized detached house in the UK. Depending on location, a 400 square-foot flat can will set you back around HK$8 million. That's about £800,000 or US$1 million.
No wonder people are struggling to get on the property ladder. There is a school of thought that protests last year, were in part, spurred on by a perception that wealthy mainlanders are buying up properties. All Chief Executives have promised to tackle the housing issue without success. In the latest "I've got a great idea" Carrie Lam proposes building several artificial islands around Lantau. She aims to create a housing and business centre large enough for 1.1 million people — that’s equal to the population of Birmingham. A construction project on this scale is possible, and I do not doubt that Hong Kong could tackle it. Yet, I'm not so sure we can justify the expenditure and environmental impact. The cost comes estimated at HK$624 billion, which is a more than 50% hit to our General Reserve of HK$1,000.8 billion. Proponents asserts this money will come back in sales of land and property, while critics claim only the developers gain. Also, it's not evident that we've exhausted all other options to free up land. There is a considerable amount of space in the New Territories that is either misused, held by developers or capable of redevelopment. Yet, officials appear unwilling to tackle the vested interests who maintain control of this land. Besides, HK$500 billion would go a long way towards alleviating poverty or repurposing existing properties to improve living conditions. No wonder there is an outcry that Lam is "pouring money into the sea". There are many government claims about the project that don't stand up to scrutiny. For starters, the proposed population densities don't offer the less-cramped living suggested. Also, the transport links look set to create more bottle-necks. Conversely, the idea that the government can attract financial services and IT companies to locate there is fanciful. At best, this will be another dormitory town with most residents commuting elsewhere to work. With our economy battered by Covid-19, it remains uncertain that the government can fund the scheme and sustain other projects. The cost may lead to a standstill on all other initiatives. There are several options to fund the project. Nonetheless, someone will need to pay, and some aspects of the deal look like a money grab by the usual culprits. With a bond issue, the benefits go to the same people who profited from our dodgy MPF scheme. Meanwhile, putting all our eggs in one basket is not the best approach. In an age of climate change, creating low-level islands is a disaster waiting to happen. Take a look at Osaka Airport, which sits on reclaimed land. When Typhoon Jebi hit in 2018, the whole site flooded. With sea levels expected to increase more than three feet above 2000 levels by the end of the century, will flooding be an issue? The infrastructure to withstand tidal surges will push up the costs further. Time is also a factor. We have over 250,000 residents living in tiny subdivided flats or cage homes. The artificial islands will take a decade to appear, with housing units not expected to be ready until 2035 at the earliest. For many, that's too long to wait. The government needs to do something in the nearer term. Opposition to the project is building, while the usual big players are coming out in support. For me, the 'Lantau Tomorrow Vision' is typical of the concrete pouring solutions of the Hong Kong Government. Already, taxpayers are coughing up HK$590 million for studies. However, just this week, the government dropped plans for the Kai Tak rail link having wasted millions on consultancies. We need to avoid similar expensive blunders. With the population predicted to stabilise and then fall, it is debatable if we need such a massive project. As an alternative, a laudable start would be taking back land in the NT that is illegally occupied or used as storage. After all, let's not spoil this stunning scenery for future generations. 9/12/2020 8 Comments The Other Side of the Story "Nury's book may prove the defining exposition of why legitimate concerns about the extradition bill spiralled rapidly into wanton violence." Ever since the Hong Kong protests turned violent last year, I've reflected on whether I misinterpreted the whole messy affair. I listened to all sides, using a critical eye to examine events including the actions of the government and Police. Along the way, I felt some pity for kids caught up in the moment. Many of these youngsters now face serious criminal charges, possible ruin and unsure futures. Meanwhile, the unscrupulous politicians who led them to the streets have either fled or gone silent.
At every turn, I kept coming back to the inescapable conclusion — some unseen entity is manipulating events. Somebody is nudging the well-drilled radicals along, seeking to draw the Police into over-reacting. As a student of social movements, crowd dynamics and how the actions/reactions of the authorities shape outcomes, this all intrigued me. I could see specific patterns emerging. Of course, being an ex-copper, it's easy for the pundits to dismiss my interpretation as partisan. "He's protecting his former colleagues" was the often-heard refrain. A friend suggested, "You're paranoid". But, it's not so easy to dismiss the conclusions of an ardent government critic, with an in-depth knowledge of Hong Kong. Like me, journalist and commentator Nury Vittachi is an adopted son of Hong Kong. That's where the similarities end. He made his name taking the mickey out of officials, including the Police. In the past, I was on the receiving end of Nury's barbs. For that reason, I always viewed his musings with a jaundiced eye. Yet, I recognise that every court needs a jester, who can speak truth to power under cover of humour. That's a powerful tool. Thus, having finished his account of the troubles —"The Other Side of the Story" —I’m stunned we agree on so much. Finally, an account emerges that gives a balanced and insightful framing of events. Nury's book may prove the defining exposition of why legitimate concerns about the extradition bill spiralled rapidly into wanton violence. And yet when the bill is withdrawn, that violence continued unabated. In telling the tale, Nury notes that there is plenty of blame to go around. He spares no one. But particular focus lands on the biased coverage by foreign journalists and the unseen 'forces' working behind the scenes. To get the story across, Nury deploys his trademark humour, the absurd and a 'tongue in cheek' style. You’re lulled into a false sense of ease, before an exceptionally profound point lands in your lap. Unlike foreign journalists, with their monochromatic views, Nury understands the nuance, the grainy detail of this place. But as he points out in the opening remarks, he's immediately lashed on social media as a Beijing stalwart for addressing truths. Unfortunately, that's the crazy world we live in. Personal attacks and unthinking bile have replaced sensible discussion. Irrational types engage in this sort of name-calling rather than addressing the issues. All this nonsense is despite Nury's credentials as a robust critic of the Hong Kong Government and Beijing. In my view, China long sought to give Hong Kong as much freedom as possible after laying down some 'red-lines'. As a consequence, after 1997, despite constant prophecies of doom, Hong Kong boomed. It's the safest city on the planet, while people enjoy the longest life expectancy. We do better than Japan on that score. Yes, we have inequality and pollution, but we are working towards addressing these issues. Plus, in all the recent noise, often forgotten is that in 2014 our march towards democracy stalled. Why? Well, because the pan-democrats vetoed proposals that incrementally moved us in the right direction. For them, it was 'all or nothin'—this thickheaded decision set in train a course of events that soon spun out of control. Violent radical elements began testing one of China's 'red-lines' by demanding independence. These people surfaced at the end of the Occupy Movement and in the Mongkok Chinese New Riot of 2016. Then, as Nury documents, the extradition law proposed in 2019, was seized upon by a coalition of local and external forces to incite an insurrection. Millions of dollars poured into supporting the unrest. The book sets out evidence to suggest some of that money came from the back-channels of the US government. With an investigators eye for detail, Nury observes the appearance of US flags and such words as 'protect our constitution' on protest banners. This is not Hong Kong's lingo. Also, we don't have a constitution as such. Likewise, he breaks down the deliberate over-reporting of crowd sizes. In truth, a million marchers numbered around 200,000. You have to ask, did Diane Abbott do the counting? We hear about the tactics adopted for assailing the Police and then taking refuge in the massive press pack. As the Police respond, only images of officers wading into the press emerge, ignoring the build-up. The radicals take this to the next level by dressing up as reporters and first-aid workers. Also, less visible and not covered by the overseas journalists, an underground campaign to intimidate the Police was underway. Activist teachers bullied their pupil, while firebombing of officer’s homes marked a horrific development. A whole chapter assesses the ordained narrative that the Hong Kong Police are guilty of widespread brutality. Nury and friends attended the key events, trawled through the photos and videos to conclude the evidence didn't exist of generalised badly-behaved Police Officers. He concludes the opposite: "comparing them with clips of police forces in other places … our local officers are far less violent than many." Dehumanising the Police is text-book revolutionary theory apparently discussed at the Oslo Freedom Forum, a US-based organisation. This process is curated by circulating doctored or single images that portray the Police as brutal. None of the lead-up, context nor truth is allowed into this 'transmogrification'. Once ready, the media amplify the message. I have to say that biased reporting, especially from the Western media outlets, is not merely a professional outrage, it's far more sinister. It feeds a sentiment of hate that encourages physical and mental cruelty. Thanks to wild claims and exaggerations on social media, things went, er, totally batshit. Fake stories of death trains, rapes and torture flashed around the world. Gullible politicians, like Lord Alton in the UK, swallowed these lies wholesale. However, in the end, the radicals with their violence, intimidation and wanton destruction forged the weapons to be used against them. Good decent Hong Kong people wouldn't stand for the burning and killing of dissenters, or the threatening of children. I do not doubt that many will disagree with Nury's conclusions, especially those absorbing different information streams and unwilling to contemplate they got it wrong. That's the problem of our age. People see the same event but disagree on what they have just seen. For now, Covid-19 and the National Security Laws have brought a halt to the violence. Many of the instigators have fled overseas, others are in jail or awaiting trial. Our parliament is functioning without the constant interruptions from hooligan politicians intent of damaging progress. In the meantime, the majority of ordinary folks are trying to get on with their lives. Simultaneously, the West led by the USA, is imposing sanctions on Beijing and Hong Kong officials, while fretting over Taiwan and the rise of China. In this febrile atmosphere, it’s easy to fall into the doomsday trap; cue another round of ‘it’s all over!’ Yet, as Nury points out, Hong Kong will continue to prosper. Never bet against this place. |
AuthorWalter De Havilland was one of the last of the colonial coppers. He served 35 years in the Royal Hong Kong Police and Hong Kong Police Force. He's long retired. Archives
January 2021
|
RSS Feed