The power of uncertainty The cultural tensions behind smash hit digital strategies in China

Tom Richardson OgilvyOne, Shanghai July 2012

Introduction:

In the time it takes you to read this sentence, four babies will have been born in China. Two migrants will have arrived in the city from the countryside. 30 people will have become connected to the internet. More than 6000 updates will have been posted to Sina Weibo, and 21,000 videos will have been uploaded to Tudou.

It’s all change!

Well, not quite.

There are plenty of things that aren’t changing in China. For all that digital technology has done to change Chinese society and the way people relate to each other, the fundamentals of Chinese culture - collective memory, language, ways of thinking - are remarkably enduring. Modernity is moderated by tradition. Ambition is balanced by duty. And individuality is still subject to the obligations of community.

We’ve titled this paper ‘The Power of Uncertainty’ because there’s a huge opportunity in China for brands that help people to make sense of tensions between competing aspirations and responsibilities.

Much of Ogilvy’s strategy work in China is based on understanding and working with these tensions. In the age of mobile social media, a brand can benefit from starting a conversation that challenges accepted truths. It used to be that brands gave people an answer. Now they’re in the business of being seen to ask the right questions at the right time, and setting the discussion free.

The four digital case studies introduced in this paper make it clear that in a country where so much is changing so quickly, the best campaigns don’t just focus on what’s new, but understand how novelty sparks off against culture and tradition.

The arrogance of now

As human beings, we suffer from a bias that makes it difficult for us to see our existence for what it really is: the tiniest of dots on a continuum. Homo sapiens evolved in Southern Africa, where critical thinking was infinitely less popular than not getting eaten. Although civilization has since bestowed education and the protection of society, we still tend to make decisions based on what’s immediately visible to us, rather than the sum of our experiences.

As marketers, we look in one direction and see a rival brand or agency build a campaign around QR codes or 360 degree film, and we see a threat. We think we’re about to be eaten, so our instinctive reaction is to accelerate the digital arms race, stuffing our arsenal full of technologists, PHDs, and Chief Innovation Officers. These people contribute to the vital task of helping brands prepare to meet people in places where people don’t even exist yet. But they, too, must be able to see human experience on a longitudinal scale, and respect the relative insignificance of now.

The urgency of China

China’s success only exaggerates the impulse. The furious pace of change on the surface leads to intense speculation. While this can be tremendously exciting, the flip side is that marketers are in good company here; everyone’s afraid of being eaten.

It’s difficult to look at the growth of Sina Weibo, smartphone penetration, and online retail without coming to the conclusion that this is a time of unprecedented change in China’s history, and that it must be affecting the people who have grown up with it. Of course, both of things are true. But the effect is not predictable.

For now, China is seizing its moment in the sun with alacrity. You can taste the optimism and confidence in the air in Shanghai. On the other hand, there are signs that the breakneck pace of change in China is causing people to cleave to familiarity. This is the biggest tension of them all.

Goodyear: The Spirit of Safety

The challenge

The tire industry in China had been beset by a series of problems in the years leading up to this campaign. In 2007, the US issued a controversial recall of 450,000 tires manufactured by Hangzhou Zhongce Rubber because of fears of tread separation. This was followed, in 2011, by reports that Korean brand Kumho was using excessive amounts of recycled rubber in its tires, increasing the likelihood of accidents.1 This scandal saw Kumho sales fall by between 30 to 40 per cent against a background of general concern about manufacturing standards in China.

Recognizing opportunity, tire firms operating in China had been trying to get one up on each other by reinforcing their safety credentials. This led to excessive emphasis on tread, traction and camber, with functional claims triumphing over emotional appeal. We had to find a way to make the message of safety chime with the public mood.

The cultural tension

At times it seems that 21st century China is experiencing an agonizing process of soul-searching, as people struggle to reconcile the benefits of opportunity with the cost that it comes at. This kind of introspection is not unique to China – all developed countries wrestle with it – but in recent years it seems to have progressed from concern to despair.

The current wave of introspection has been fuelled by a series of public morality and safety scandals. During the last four years, the Chinese people have been afflicted by toxic milk, contaminated pork, gutter oil and exploding watermelons. People have looked on, in horror, at the indifference of bypassers as a baby was run over by a truck, and voiced their disgust at the death of an old man who fell on crowded street in Hubei and choked on his own blood after being ignored for 90 minutes.

The government has been quick to respond, recognizing the importance of balancing moral authority with economic leadership. In the aftermath of the milk crisis, the death penalty was introduced for food safety violators. A new food safety law was introduced along with a risk evaluation system capable of monitoring 500,000 companies. And a ‘Good Samaritan’ law is being trialed in Shenzhen in response to the tragic death of Yue Yue.

The response has not just been legislative, however. These laws reflect a broader ‘spirit’ of moral reconstruction in Chinese society. A network of ‘civilization offices’ around the country reward individuals for ethical behavior, students are summoned from universities to hear tales of selfless steelworker Guo Mingyi, while CCTV lionizes

1 http://www.chinadaily.com.cn/bizchina/2011-09/13/content_13675216.htm everyday heroines like Wu Juping, who broke her arm when she ran to catch a baby that fell from a tenth floor window.

These are all attempts to erode the Confucian culture of shaoguanxishi, which means ‘don’t get involved if it’s not your business’, and replace it with a more collective consciousness. Although Confucius said “helping others is joy,” his enduring legacy is ‘the five relations of humanity,’ which suggests a narrow view of a person’s responsibilities that doesn’t emphasize kindness to strangers. ‘The five relations’ made a vital contribution to orderly society when the family unit was close enough to enforce li (propriety) and support misfortune, but there’s a growing recognition that they must be adapted to remain relevant to a society in which 100 million people have migrated away from home.

The popular reaction to recent initiatives designed to undermine shaoguanxishi suggests that people see the value of a more collective consciousness. 15,000 people a day visited a photo exhibition commemorating the life of altruist paragon Lei Feng at the Beijing Military Museum in early 2012. Philanthropy has grown prodigiously amongst wealthy Chinese, prompted a surge after the Sichuan Earthquake in 2008. And people have flocked to newly-built Taoist temples, which have tripled in number in the last 15 years.

By early 2011, we felt that several disparate strands of public consciousness were converging. First, China seemed to be crying out to have its faith restored in the idea of virtue without reward.2 Second, we could sense a fierce admiration for China’s unsung heroes, and a desire to see them recognized. And third, we reluctantly identified a growing feeling of insecurity in Chinese society, aggravated by a series of safety scandals.

The digital solution

In partnership with Shanghai Documentary TV channel, we created a series of 1-minute films about the lives of people who have only ever worked in one job, devoting their entire careers to making other people safe.

These people included:

 A man who spent 200 days a year alone on an island for 32 years, monitoring the ocean to provide early warnings of typhoons  A retired public bus driver who drove a single route for 31 years, driving 600,000 kilometers without a single accident  A senior airline pilot with a safe flight record of over 20,000 hours, who paced the aisle of his aircraft before every flight to remind himself that the passengers’ safety was in his hands.

2 A well-intentioned proposal in Guangzhou in early 2012 promised 10% to anyone who returned lost money, but was widely criticized on the grounds that it reduced moral conduct to the level of a business deal. Celebrity author and social opinion leader Li Chengpeng interviewed the characters from two of the films at the launch party in Shanghai, with a simulcast on Sina Weibo and Tudou.com.

People viewing the content online were directed to the Sina Weibo feed which was branded in keeping with the theme of the campaign: ‘Find the Safety Guardians All Around You’. Using social media, people were encouraged to search for and promote those who had devoted themselves to the protection of others.

People were also encouraged to submit user-generated videos, with the incentive that the best video would be shown on the Shanghai Documentary TV Channel.

Results

During one month from 26 May to 26 June 2011:  7 films viewed 19 million times on Tudou.com  198 user-generated Unsung Hero videos posted to Tudou.com, generating 110 million views.  13,000 followers added on Weibo  “31 years without an accident! Really admire their perseverance and efforts! They’re the most wonderful people in the world!”  “Our lives are protected by these heroes! We should also love and protect them.”  “Everyone is part of society. Only when everyone does their best can the entire society be safe. Everyone can do better in their job!”

Pullquotes/stats/DYK?s

“As our society has developed we’ve…seen the loss of good faith and distortions in our values.” Luo Shugang, Executive Deputy Head of CCP Central Committee Publicity Department

"We should look into the ugliness in ourselves with a dagger of conscience and bite the soul-searching bullet." Wang Yang, CCP Secretary, Guangdong province.

A survey conducted by China Youth Daily found that 88% of respondents agreed that loosening bonds between strangers was the real cause of Yue Yue's death. Asked why 18 people passed by the girl, 71% of respondents thought they were afraid of bringing trouble on themselves.

86% agree: “I wish young people had more virtuous role models to look up to”. (Source: OgilvyOne proprietary data)

89% agree: “I would like to see more formal recognition in society for those who help others”. (Source: OgilvyOne proprietary data)

54% agree: “People who ignore others who are injured or need help should be punished” 23% selected ‘5’ on a ten-point scale, indicating the ambiguity around the protection offered by the law to Good Samaritans. (Source: OgilvyOne proprietary data)

88% agree: “I support severe punishment for those who deliberately contaminate food” 73% selected ‘10’ on a 10-point scale, indicating the strength of feeling around this issue. (Source: OgilvyOne proprietary data)

The North Face: Finding True North

The challenge:

There are more than 500 outdoor equipment and apparel brands in China, most trading on price rather than authenticity. The lack of brands in the market that are willing to invest in promoting outdoor activity (as opposed to flogging kit) means that the market is not benefiting from a growth in the popularity of outdoor pursuits themselves.

Worse still, an enduring belief that outdoor aspiration could not be sold to the Chinese, who supposedly saw the city as the civilized future and the countryside as the unruly past, led outdoor brands to jump into bed with urban and popular culture.

The ambition of the TNF brand, in the words of APAC General Manager Jacob Uhland, was to ‘inspire a movement of outdoor exploration’, so we knew that our campaign had to live through the brand, or not at all. We had to find a way to promote the brand by getting people outdoors and showing them how.

The cultural tension:

During the middle ages, China was seen by its people as a balanced society. Mandarins, who lived in large settlements, offered moral leadership, while farmers fed the country. The town and the countryside were valued equally highly. But from around 1850, as international trade brought riches to cities, urban life became the pinnacle of aspiration.

From 1979, this trend accelerated dramatically. From 1995 to 2005 around 120 million people flooded into cities, which were seen as centers of both wealth and culture. As urbanization gathered pace, and the town/country divide became increasingly polarized, rural China has become associated with the character ‘Tu’ (土), meaning dirt, crude, or uncivilized.3

The view of nature flipped quickly because the association with ‘Tu’ is justified by Confucian philosophy, which tends to despise nature. In many respects the attitude to nature that prevailed during the Ming dynasty (and early Qing) was an aberration. Before this period, the Confucian tradition’s urge to impose order upon unpredictability made its philosophers define nature in terms of cruelty.

This heavy cultural baggage, weighing down the idea of the countryside, has made it increasingly difficult to sell the outdoor lifestyle as an aspiration. But come early 2011, there were feint signals that the currents were changing.

Since birth, Chinese urban professionals have been funneled into a prescribed route for success; a good university, a good salary, property ownership, sensible investment. This

3 Dr. Michael B. Griffiths, Ogilvy Discovery, Shanghai ideal is not vulnerable – money will remain the dominant indicator of success in China for the foreseeable future. But as our target audience travels and earns more, they are looking for more out of life, which gives the ideal of success a nuance.

It is no coincidence that as this happens, the primacy of Confucian philosophy, with its emphasis on order and civilization, is being challenged by a revival of broad Taoist principles. Lao Tzu preached that a happy life could be achieved by living in conformity with nature, retiring from the constant turbulence of society and institutions.4

Although these trends were still emerging, we felt that they had the force of momentum on their side, and offered the kind of ‘otherness’ that was aspirational to the bleeding edge. But if we were going to base our strategy on it, we had to make sure it was relevant to a broader section of society.

Once again, we turned to language and culture.

When Chinese say they ‘can’t find North’, it means they’ve lost their way, or their sense of direction in life. It’s a deeply felt idiom, more now so than ever. We decided to base our campaign around the idiom because it was permanent, and lived in the collective memory, rather than on the fleeting breeze of what’s current. Better still, it had a direct link to The North Face and was a perfect fit with what we were trying to achieve in China.

The digital solution:

In early 2011, OgilvyOne and The North Face teamed up to create a trail of outdoor activities that began in Guangdong in the South of China and travelled through ten cities on the way to the ‘True North’ in Mohe.

In each city, our social media teams invited people from the area to join in a series of activities such as hiking, cycling and climbing that would originate in the center of the city and lead participants to the city’s northernmost point. The top performers from each of the first nine cities were invited to join a crack team of nine who would set out for Mohe.

As with traditional orienteering, ‘north-finders’ were invited to check in at various points along the trails. The difference was that this was orienteering for a new generation. Instead of punching a ticket, people could check in on their phones, receive an achievement badge, and share with their friends across social media.

Results:

4 One of the fundamental concepts of Taoism is ‘wu wei’, or passive action. It implies that those who try to force their will upon the world disrupt the beautiful harmony that already exists. The North Face sales grew by 58% more than the category (2010 vs.2011) Sales value grew from $63m USD to $92m USD (2010 vs. 2011) 3.28 million hits on the campaign website 1 million posts on social networks and microblogs 162,544 badges unlocked by Jiepang.com mobile check-in (the highest number in the history of the site) 50,000+ followers on Sina Weibo, three times more than just a year earlier 21 magazines writing 111 articles about the campaign One documentary film for The Travel Channel 13.5m RMB ($2.14m USD) earned media value 257% increase in total brand awareness

Pullquotes/stats/DYK?s

Did you know? The Chinese outdoor market grew from 100 million USD in 2004 to more than 1 billion USD in 2011. (Source: China Outdoor Commercial Alliance)

Did you know? Every three seconds, a Chinese migrant completes his journey from the countryside into the city.

Around the cities of Liaoning, entrepreneurial peasants have transformed their homes to cater to those from the city who escape to the countryside for the weekend. This phenomenon is known as nongjiale (happy farmer). Scribbled signs beckon visitors in to sit around the huokang (hearth) and enjoy nongjia fanzhuang (peasant family farmhouse food). (Source: M. Griffiths, M. Chapman, F. Christiansen, Chinese Consumers: The Romantic Reappraisal, Ethnography 11 (3)).

66% agree: “Increasingly I feel there is more to life than just money” (Source: OgilvyOne proprietary data)

Only 47% agree: “I am satisfied with my work/life balance” (Source: OgilvyOne proprietary data)

Fanta: The 9th Class

The challenge:

Mirinda had out-sold and out-grown Fanta for seven years. For the last three of those years, Mirinda’s budget had been more than ten times Fanta’s. Ogilvy was tasked with finding a smart way of growing Fanta’s popularity amongst teens while remaining true to the global positioning ‘Less serious’.

In an attempt to eat away at Mirinda’s market share, Fanta had decided to introduce a more ‘orangey’ formula that would allow the brand to focus on a clear product benefit rather than compete with Mirinda’s aggressive spending. We had to find a way of communicating this benefit single-mindedly, so it would stick in people’s minds.

Given our target audience and budget, the obvious medium for engagement was online, but we knew that teens’ mothers, who were largely responsbile for household shopping, took a dim view of games and other platforms that distracted their children from their schoolwork. The challenge was to find a way of engaging teens that would keep everyone happy.

The cultural tension:

For almost two thousand years, entry to China’s civil service was reliant upon success in the Confucian examination system, creating an ‘aristocracy of learning’.5 To achieve the highest grade, jinshi, required the memorization of over 400,000 characters. Although this resulted in a pass rate of between 1-2 per cent, in theory success was open to anyone, no matter what their background.6

The modern Gaokao university entrance examination has sustained this noble ideal. If the truest form of equality is equality of opportunity, even those who bemoan the linear focus required to pass cannot deny that the system continues to act as a great leveler in Chinese society.

But the mixture of dread and reverence with which the Gaokao is viewed, its perception as a defining moment in a young life, and the sense of climax that results from around 10 million people all over China taking it at the same time can cover young people’s formative years in a shroud of pressure and expectation.

Concern about this has grown in recent years, and is focused in two areas.

The first is personal. The tragic suicides of three students preparing for the Gaokao in the Summer of 2010 brought the pressures faced by young people into focus, and drew a

5 ‘A Unique Experiment’, Justin Crozier, Sacu, ‘China in Focus’, Issue 12, 2002. 6 Ibid. swift response from the government, which introduced a ten-year education plan in to 2020 that promised to monitor the pressure faced by young people.

The second is pragmatic. There is a growing acknowledgement at all levels of society that the traditional Chinese way of learning is unlikely to furnish future generations with the innovators and creative leaders it needs to realize the government’s cherished goal of a balanced economy. This is a trend that can only head in one direction.

By early 2011, we sensed the conversation about rote learning and the Gaokao had reached a turning point. There was a groaning tension between the generations, with school children becoming increasingly vocal about the load they were bearing, and young professionals complaining that they were ill-equipped for to join the workforce, while conservative voices argued in favour of continuity.

It was the right time to offer young people a place to unload their pressure and remind them that learning can be ‘Less Serious’.

The digital solution:

In China, the school day is broken up into eight long, evenly-spaced classes. After school, cramming classes offer no escape from rote learning and an insidious sense of pressure. We decided to create the ‘9th class’, as a reaction against this. We created a digital playground where kids could learn while having fun.

The site featured a series of experiments such as ‘The Big Orange Squeeze’, which allowed visitors to press a button which would throw an orange into a giant glass bowl. Visitors to the site had to guess how many oranges would have to be added to the bowl before the pressure accumulated sufficiently to force juice from an orange out of a funnel at the bottom. In another experiment, hot, frozen and normal oranges were dropped from a rooftop and visitors had to guess which would burst.

These experiments were accompanied by jokes and quizzes revolving around the ‘orange’ theme, and the site was integrated with social media so answers could be shared with friends.

The results:

 In a year of category decline, the campaign helped Fanta’s sales volume to grow by 26 per cent from 2010 to 2011.  Fanta outgrew Mirinda for four consecutive quarters in 2011  14 million unique visitors to campaign site  1.19 million competition entries  155 per cent increase in brand buzz (Google Analytics).

Pullquotes/stats/DYK?s

Between February and April 2010, 75 per cent of Senior High School students felt they were ‘under great pressure’, while 63 per cent of parents also reported feeling stressed out. (Source: Sina.com / MYCOS survey of c. 30,000 students and parents in 16 provinces, May 2010)

A China Daily survey of June 2010 kept track of 1,000 zhuangyuan, or Gaokao top scorers, from 1977 to 2008. It found that not one of them stood out in the fields of academia, business, and politics.

“A healthy society cannot come about when people study not for the purpose of gaining wisdom but for the purpose of becoming government officials”. Song Dynasty Philosopher Ye Shi (1150-1223)

Compared with US students, Chinese students spend at least forty-one more days per year in the classroom, averaging 30 per cent more hours of instruction every year than American students do. (Source: ABC News)

89% agree: “Schools should teach children to think creatively”. (Source: OgilvyOne proprietary data)

Johnnie Walker: Yulu

The challenge:

Despite being a latecomer to the whisky category in China, Johnnie Walker had been successful in establishing itself as a leading brand, but was starting to find its share eroded by fierce competition in the category. Surveys showed a high degree of brand awareness but relatively low affiliation. In other words, people weren’t being given a reason to care about Johnnie Walker.

Because it was a relatively affordable whisky, and wasn’t a new trend in the market, Johnnie Walker lacked two of the key drivers of status in China. As a premium and sophisticated product, whisky lends itself to status-based appeal, but this route wasn’t an option. It was up to Ogilvy and BBH to find a way of bonding people to the brand in a way that would outlast the latest fad or fashion.

The cultural tension:

There are 240 million ‘post-80s’ young adults in China, known colloquially as the ‘rubber generation’ on account of their supposed lack of backbone and moral courage. Older generations, who lived through decades of insecurity, apply this moniker to the post-80s because they believe that no-one born after the reforms of 1978 knows what it means to chi ku (eat bitterness).

The cleft between the post-80s generation and their parents is believed to be so dramatic because of the sudden transformation of society that occurred when Deng began the process of economic liberalization. Everyone born after this point is seen, symbolically, to be built of the wrong stuff. Post-80s and post-90s are believed to be more susceptible to feminization, western values, lack of commitment and a sense of entitlement.

The Chinese media are so concerned about this supposed decline in values that a whole lexicon of terminology has developed to describe the rubber generation. News reports and documentaries are peppered with phrases like xinli sushi buhao (poor psychological quality), niai (spoilt), and guan buzhu taziji (lacking self-control).

The reality, inevitably, is much more complicated. The majority of post-80s we speak to in groups or interviews are conscientious and responsible, but burdened by expectation. Academics have written about the phenomenon of ‘compensation syndrome’ whereby Chinese parents who missed out on opportunity during the 1960s and 70s channel their hopes for the future through their children.

We believe that the widespread concern about post-80s’ character is indicative of parents’ frustration at their inability to will their child to become a rich, filial and well-educated CEO, rather than any fundamental generational flaw. Indeed, one of the internet buzzwords of 2012 is diao si. This used to mean underprivileged, but it is being assumed ironically by middle class post-80s who believe that nothing is ever good enough for their parents or society at large.

Post-80s are determined to break out the identity prescribed to them by society. When the Sichuan earthquake struck in May 2008, post-80s university students flocked to volunteer as rescue workers and blood donors, while record numbers of students are now signing up to China’s Go West program, through which elite students take a year out from university to work in development in China’s western provinces.

When China hosted the Olympic Games in 2008 and the PRC celebrated its 60th anniversary the following year, organizing committees were inundated with thousands of applications for each place in their student volunteering teams.

It’s as though this is a generation with something to prove.

It’s a generation that seems to be struggling - but determined - to hold back a tide of prejudice.

“We’re not worthless. Give us a chance.”

The digital solution:

Whisky was a category that was dominated, in China as elsewhere, by images of expensive suits, crystal glasses and leather armchairs. This stereotype attached prestige to whisky, but it was all a bit glossy. It didn’t resonate with people and had become a lazy default for the category.

Trading at a lower price than many other brands in the category, Johnnie Walker decided to avoid trying to compete on status, but to adopt a ‘warts-and-all’ strategy that would be honest about the path to success. There are more than one million millionaires in China, but almost all of them have made their fortune in the past three decades. Prestige and money haven’t been inherited; they’ve been earned the hard way, with bumps and scrapes along the road.

To kick-start interest in the campaign, we joined up with Han Han, the most influential blogger in China, himself a member of the post-80s generation. He asked his followers: “Is the rubber generation made of nothing? Do we really have no dreams?” Knowing this would set off an electric reaction on social media, we created a dedicated social media feed through which more than 100 influential Chinese bloggers were invited to share their view on the achievements and aspirations of the so-called ‘rubber generation’. We also created a dedicated page on Douban, China’s alternative social network for the arts and culture, featuring polls, photo albums and diaries on the topic of post-80s dreams.

With interest in this conversation growing, Han Han was joined by China’s leading documentary maker, Jia Jiangke, to announce a series of eleven short documentary films that would explore what it means to be successful in China, featuring progressive figures from several generations. As each new film was unveiled, bloggers led discussions online about what could be learned from the subject’s story, and the value of their contribution to society.

The documentary series reflected the fact that Johnnie Walker was trying to start a discussion about success, rather than define it. As well as more conventional business icons like property tycoon Pan Shiyi, it also profiled lesser-known figures such as investigative journalist Wang Keqin, environmentalist Zhao Zhong, and young entrepreneur Xiao Peng.

Results: Purchase intention increased from 40 per cent to 45 per cent Earned media value of $44 million USD 6 million unique users 34 million content views Online conversations about Johnnie Walker grew by 300%

Pullquotes / stats / DYKs:

Did you know? In 2011, the Xinhua Dictionary added the words fangnu (house slaves) and chenu (car slaves) to recognize their widespread usage by Chinese media, normally to describe the difficulties post-80s face keeping up with the spiraling cost of living.

“In 2009, I sold my first entrepreneurial venture. At that time, I was a little confused after selling my company. I didn’t want to take up a job with a junior title, but no employer would offer me a top tier position either.” Xiao Peng, post-80s entrepreneur, Founder of 1rest.com

Did you know? Although post-80s are often associated with materialism and westernization, they are in fact the most vocal enforcers of Chinese identity, forming the majority of participants in the anti-Japanese protests of 2005 and Olympic torch counter-protests of 2008.

China now has more than 30 million youth volunteers registered in youth leagues . In developing countries such as Myanmar, Thailand, Ethiopia and Zimbabwe, Chinese volunteers have devoted themselves to services including peacekeeping, language teaching, health care and emergency relief. Between 2005-2011, the Chinese government sent 17,000 volunteers and Chinese-language teachers to 117 countries.7

7 China Daily, ‘Chinese youths become worldwide volunteer force’, 4th May 2012.

Conclusion:

Behind the fierce optimism and unlimited opportunity, China’s people are coming to terms with a sense of unease about the relentless pace of change. On the one hand, there is excitement; there is nowhere in the world quite like China in 2012. But on the other, there is a nervous fumble for certainty.

57 per cent of Chinese people describe it as either ‘very important’ or ‘absolutely essential’ that ‘there is a high level of stability with little chance of radical change’, versus 40 per cent globally. Only 26 per cent say the same about having ‘an exciting, stimulating life’.8

What outsiders miss is that for every young Chinese primed to take advantage of the new opportunities thrown up by change, charging into the future with optimism and an iPhone, there are millions of people in China for whom keeping hold of what they have is a meaningful aspiration.

This conflict between the aggressive pursuit of an uncertain future and the solace of familiarity is the dominant narrative in Chinese society in 2012, not least because these traits exist in many people simultaneously.

The hundreds of millions who have flooded onto Sina Weibo, Taobao Mall and Douban to share ideas, build businesses and keep up with the hottest fly-by-night trends are described as a marketer’s dream, but marketers with dollar signs in their eyes must resist the temptation to see them as one-dimensional. In reality, their delicate poise on the cutting edge exposes them to the insecurity of constant change.

This is why deep culture chimes so clearly when rendered by digital media, and the cultural strategies we’ve introduced here have burst into the public consciousness online or via mobile. Placed in a context of constant change, people will cling to ideas that last.

8 The Futures Company, Global Monitor 2011.