A Paucity of “Blessings”: the KMT and what it means to be “credible opposition”

Screaming in stone?

It’s rare that I have not a single critical thing to say about the overall body of work of an expert or policy wonk focusing on Taiwan. However, a few people come close, and I’ve always admired the work of Kharis Templeman. He’s good at what he does, he’s clear and to the point, and he makes sense. I’ve never heard him say anything ridiculous about the US or Taiwan “provoking” China, among other claims I personally think are, well, deranged. He seems sensible. I’m on board.

So, I would like to begin this post by stating that all of it comes from a place of respect. I read his forthcoming “Blessings in Disguise: How Authoritarian Legacies and the China Factor Have Strengthened Democracy in Taiwan” and, well…to put it kindly, I was not entirely impressed. To be clear, most of the argumentation makes sense, and he doesn’t make any historical slips that I could find (you’d be surprised how often that happens with other scholars and researchers). 

That said, I have thoughts. I do think Taiwan needs at least two credible, stable, institutionalized parties. The DPP needs a strong rival to hold it accountable, and vice versa -- the DPP needs to hold its opposition accountable, as well. That other party is, and always has been, the KMT.

However, I see no reason why that strong opposition should necessarily continue to be the KMT. After reading Templeman's paper...

...I still don't. 

The core thesis is that the KMT is “good for Taiwanese democracy” by existing as an entrenched, institutionalized party with a core voting base and ability to govern within established systemic norms. 

This does make sense on its face: stability begets stability, and democracy is tied deeply enough to the will of the people that if there are not institutional factors at play, including disciplined, electable yet competitive parties, it’s easy for the whole thing to fall apart. It’s frightening how quickly one party might gain a stranglehold on power, or for the system to become so chaotic or unaccountable that it’s not clear what benefit ‘electing your leaders’ even has. 

Here's the thing, though: it’s just a little too close to ‘status quo for the sake of the status quo’ — what we have now is good because it’s stable, and change is to some extent inherently destabilizing. To be honest, there may be some truth to that. Not all change is good; even in the most flawed system, change can bring unfortunate consequences. 

But, as we’ve seen with Taiwan’s own democratic transition, change may be scary, chaotic and raw, and still need to happen. 

The DPP were once the outsiders, the upstarts, the ‘anti-system message’ guys. And now they’re institutionalized. 

In other words, upending the system, letting in newcomers and outsiders, destabilizing norms — these can be terrifying and have negative consequences alongside the positives. But a party may well only be an outsider or destabilizer…until it isn’t.

And a party may be a credible institutionalized rival...until it isn't. 

Thus, the argument that the KMT is good for Taiwan only holds for as long as they actually do have a strong voting base. It’s true only insofar as they remain competitive and can actually win every kind of election. That’s not assured: they can and do dominate at the local level, but nationally, their ability to actually win an election is, well, up for debate. At least for now. 

The second they lose their legitimacy, their base, their electability (especially at the national level), what then? Are they still “good for democracy” if they can’t provide a reasonable alternative to the DPP? I wouldn’t think so. 

Right now, the TPP, no matter how unclear their policies, seems to be presenting a credible threat to the KMT and is becoming truly competitive against the DPP. They’re “outsiders” now, but perhaps less so with an erstwhile Taipei mayoralty under their belt. They are already both in leadership and hot water in Hsinchu (corruption allegations), and Ko is giving the KMT's Hou a solid scare in the presidential race. 

What if the TPP actually makes it and becomes “institutionalized”? Will we need the KMT then? Or are they only a “blessing” for Taiwan as long as they’re credible? If the TPP actually does usurp the KMT’s competitiveness against the DPP, I wouldn’t necessarily say it’s good or bad — just different, and indicative of how far the KMT would have fallen. Certainly not a loss of any ‘blessing’ stemming from the authoritarian era. 

It makes sense that stable political parties that respect the norms of governance and remain competitive are good for democracy in general. As long as the KMT and DPP fit this bill but no other parties do, I can understand the argument. However, the moment another party becomes ‘institutionalized’ — credible, prosperous, competitive — what exactly is the benefit of the KMT in particular? Why should it be them specifically?

Templeman tries to make the argument that the KMT itself is “indispensable” as the opposition to the DPP, but this is where I found the paper weakest. 

Again, it is only ‘indispensable’ for as long as it remains stable, credible and competitive. And outsiders are only outsiders until they’re inside — like, oh, the DPP. And insiders only remain inside for as long as they can hold their place. On those fronts, Templeman seems more optimistic about the KMT’s future at the national level than I am. 

Let’s look a little deeper at the two points made here: one is that the KMT’s own disciplined party core forced the opposition, which lacked the KMT’s resources and institutional entrenchment, to also create a disciplined, organized hierarchy that (ironically, as he correctly notes) this meant that the DPP’s organizational structures mimicked the KMT, both of which are founded, basically, on Leninist norms of party structure. 

This is an accurate telling of history, but whether it’s a “blessing” depends on whether you think that particular party structure is ideal, or a good choice. I’m not an expert in Leninist party structures, so I’ll save that question for someone else, but in general I am not a fan of Leninist praxis. I do wonder if Taiwanese parties could perhaps do better than the model they were handed. 

I doubt the DPP is going anywhere, seeing as they hold both the presidency and the lead in the  upcoming election (keeping in mind that a lead this early on is not always easily kept). Furthermore, their general orientation regarding Taiwan’s sovereignty is much more in line with the general consensus. Whether or not Taiwan should — or even can — have “better relations” with Beijing is still up for debate, though I tend to think Beijing’s own attitude makes that impossible, not any specific policies of the DPP or KMT. However, on unification vs. independence and national identity, the DPP seems to be much closer to what a greater share of the electorate wants. 

As for the KMT? Well, would it be so bad if a party that was disciplined but had a novel party structure that didn’t follow the old China-imported Leninist paradigm usurped their position as chief competitor? Crucially, would political parties in Taiwan have been able to form disciplined institutional cores if the KMT had never come and shoved their ideology down Taiwan’s throat? 

I don’t know. Perhaps not. Assuming, however, that what happened was a ‘blessing’ sounds to me like making excuses for colonization. It’s along the lines of “the British Raj was terrible, but without them India wouldn’t have all that infrastructure, like railroads”. As though Indians would certainly not have been able to figure out railroads on their own. Perhaps geopolitical factors would have made such things harder to accomplish, but whether we’re discussing Taiwanese political parties or Indian railroads, they were by no means impossible without all the horrors that accompanied them. The horrors of the White Terror were not definitively necessary for Taiwan to blossom into the democracy it is today.

Templeman then focuses on the “China factor” — the fact that differing views on China remain the primary divide in Taiwanese politics. There’s nothing incorrect in this assessment, and the historical review was on-point. 

Well, on point with one caveat: the KMT doesn't continue to be one of the major opposition parties because of the "China factor", wherein there are two main poles to Taiwanese political affiliation, one pro-China and pro-Chinese identity and one wary of Beijing and Taiwan as part of some concept of "China". Rather, "the China Factor" exists because the KMT brought it to Taiwan. That, however, is a topic for another post.

However, the rise of the TPP in the current election cycle, ephemeral as their competitiveness may (or may not) be, was completely ignored. I’m not pro-TPP by any means, but this felt like a glaring omission when parties such as the NPP garnered mentions. The TPP doesn’t have a clear China policy, but then, neither did the KMT’s Hou You-yih until fairly recently. 

The China factor certainly matters, as much as we may wish it didn’t. However, it only matters for as long as it matters: if the electorate ever settles on a general consensus vis-a-vis China, that “divide” will suddenly boost the ability of one party to dominate. Although partisan identification shows some interesting changes, looking at fundamental support for pro-China policies vs. against them, my bet on where any such dominance might land is squarely in the pan-green camp. 

It’s not like support for unification is on the rise, and even DPP presidential candidate Lai Ching-te has said he would be open to dialogue with Beijing. The DPP openly states that Taiwan is “independent”, adding in a little “called the Republic of China” coda delivered with everything short of a wink wink, nudge nudge.

On the other side, I consistently see the KMT try to hide its more pro-China tendencies: they don’t dare openly state that they’re pro-unification, nor did they dare to speak against the 2019 Hong Kong protestors resisting the exact same government that they, the KMT, want to be closer to. They talk about the fake 92 Consensus, but can't admit that China never agreed to their interpretation that there are "differing interpretations". 

In fact, the KMT/DPP dichotomy, riven along pro/anti-China lines, has given rise to a large group of voters who simply dislike both parties. There are those disillusioned by the KMT but can’t fathom voting for the DPP, often due to a lifetime of pan-blue media inculcation that the DPP are “riffraff” and “troublemakers” — that is, they still don’t believe that the DPP are “institutionalized”. 

There are also those who are angry at the DPP’s failings, and to be sure it is not a perfect party. However, they’re adamant that Taiwan is certainly not part of China, and the thought of voting for the pro-China KMT, with its lingering scent of the authoritarian era, is an anathema to them. Basically, “the party I would typically vote for sucks, but the alternative is even worse!” 

(If that sounds a lot like some Americans pissed at both the Democrats and Republicans, well, it should.) 

If it’s a “blessing” for the two dominant parties to be the imperfect “they’re corrupt too!” DPP and the “but they murdered my uncle and insist I’m Chinese” KMT, then I’m not as optimistic for Taiwan’s future as Templeman is. I don’t think Taiwan’s democracy is in dire straits -- far from it -- but thinking of it in these terms makes it seem more troubled than I would otherwise believe, not less. 

Templeman continues by noting that the KMT is the “indispensable” foil to the DPP not only because they’ve managed to survive into the democratic era, but because they continue to have huge resources at their command. Is this actually true? As Donovan Smith recently noted, they’re still reporting funds effectively frozen by the transitional justice committee, and might actually be in danger of bankruptcy. I’ve heard multiple rumors over the past few years that they struggle to pay their own people. They have a legacy as one of the wealthiest political parties in the world, and certainly the wealthiest in Taiwan, but that may be more a memory than current fact. 

I’m deeply unconvinced by the next section: 

Commentators and academics in Taiwan, especially those sympathetic to the DPP, frequently bemoan the fact that the KMT survived into the democratic era and continues to play a leading role in politics (e.g. Baum & van der Wees, 2012; Hwang, 2016; Schafferer, 2010). In this view, the KMT’s authoritarian inheritance, including a murky collection of businesses, investment holding companies, buildings and land plots, and other assets that it acquired during the authoritarian era, have given the party an unfair advantage in contested elections; if the electoral playing field were really level, it would have faded into oblivion a long time ago. Thus, the current DPP government is justified in seeking to force the KMT to provide a full account of its finances and disgorge any ‘ill-gotten assets’ back to the state from which it acquired them. Yet the persistence of the KMT as a major electoral force, and in particular as a credible threat to retake power even after it lost control over the central government in 2000, has also had unambiguously positive consequences for the party system, and thus for democratic accountability. And if reformers push too hard to disrupt the current party system in a misguided attempt to resolve these ‘distortions’, they might end up doing more harm than good to Taiwan’s democracy in the long run. 

There’s a very obvious disconnect here: Templeman acknowledges that the KMT had (and has) “assets that it acquired during the authoritarian era, [giving] the party an unfair advantage in contested elections”, but then states that they are a legitimate party because they’re still “a credible threat to retake power”. Yes, they are — in great part because of all of those (erstwhile?) assets giving them an unfair advantage! That’s the whole point. 

It’s like saying “Yes, Brockton Squinglehopper III had some unfair advantages from his family’s massive wealth and privilege, but the fact that he is an adult now and is also massively wealthy and privileged is a sign that he earned it, and that’s positive!” How is it positive, exactly?

As for clientelism, both parties engage in it, but to me at least, it seems the KMT is the far more serious offender. Far from being held accountable, several years on they still don’t understand why preferential pension schemes for their major voting blocs had to be done away with. 

It’s not that the KMT has no true supporters: they do. But they have also had so many unfair advantages, from resources to control of the education system and media to actually being a long-term established party when Taiwan democratized, unlike the DPP. That they continued to win elections is, in part, evidence of how steeply the playing field was pitched — not an argument that it’s inconsequential.

It convinces me of two points only. First, that Taiwan needs credible opposition parties that are stable, disciplined and hold each other accountable. In the past, that has been the DPP and KMT. There is no reason, however, why it would be best for the KMT to continue to dominate over newer parties. The best I can say is that they historically have done so; I don't see a solid argument for why it would be best for that to continue, if the newer party can be just as credible, competitive and respectful of democratic norms. 

Again, a party is only “institutionalized” while it remains competitive, and it’s only an “outsider” until it’s inside. 

Certainly, the KMT cannot be forcibly done away with, and not all third-party opposition is necessarily positive. I see no problem, however, with the KMT dying a slow, natural death as its pro-China views simply fail to garner sufficient support to remain competitive, and its stolen assets are rightfully given back to the nation.

I also have a problem with the idea that both parties are equally committed to Taiwanese democracy. Templeman doesn't say this, but he seems to assume it as a prerequisite for all those "blessings". The KMT kicked out the guy who played the biggest role in democratizing Taiwan (Lee Teng-hui), and plenty of the deepest blue KMTers would happily sell Taiwan to China tomorrow. "You can't eat democracy" and all that. Are they really committed to Taiwan, by any name, as a sovereign nation not united with the PRC? Are they really committed to democracy? I remain unconvinced, because the KMT's own actions have been unconvincing.

I do not think Taiwan’s democracy is rotting away, and I don’t think the KMT should be — or needs to be — actively excised from the political system. But I do not see the authoritarian era as much of a “blessing”. And certainly, I agree that not all change is good, not all outsiders are positive forces, and political parties need credible rivals so that each side may be held accountable to good governance and institutional norms. I agree that the China divide is the primary dividing point in Taiwanese politics. 

However, the KMT’s pro-China orientation, especially the unificationism they try and fail so hard to hide, rapid loss of once-stolen resources, continuing clientelist tendencies and and inability to be accountable for their own authoritarian past all point to one thing: the DPP needs credible opposition, but there is still no reason whatsoever why that has to be the KMT. 

The KMT holds that position right now, but I see no good argument for why they should continue to do so, especially if they die a natural death at the hands of public opinion and a new credible party arises to take their place. 

Templeman's paper is an excellent argument for the historical and political forces that help explain why Taiwanese democracy is the way it is -- everything that's led the country to its present political state, and the benefits of it. It is not a strong argument for the KMT continuing to hold its current status. Even if some of the past they inflicted on Taiwan turned out to have benefits, that’s not an argument for their continued position as one of the two main parties in Taiwan. That position can only be conferred by one force: the electorate. I don’t know which way that current will carry us, but my money’s not on the KMT. 

An Audio-Visual Garden of Weeds

Fun fact: the original title was "an audio-visual weed garden" but that would have raised questions not answered by the post.

Outside my window I have a weird little garden. Two under-pruned and overgrown money trees, a bougainvillea, lemon balm started from a cutting that fell onto my casement from an upstairs neighbor and is now taking over my house. Hipster-approved succulents because I can keep those alive. A snake plant because they're difficult to kill.

And weeds: I'll sometimes leave out pots of unplanted soil and see what blows in. On one side I have a big ol' fern because a fern seed decided to grow there. On the other edge, I have an unruly crown-of-thorns, again just a weary traveling seed that likes my windowsill enough to stick around.

I don't have any specific goal for this window or these weeds, for whom I am now an adoptive plant mom. I figure that if a random plant is going to choose my window as a good place to grow, it's probably going to be very easy to grow. As a black thumb, that works out great for me. 

I'll let you decide what this has to do with language learning, but in my own weedy head, there is a connection. 

Soon after I wrote my last post on learning Armenian and Taiwanese at the same time, I signed up with the Armenian General Benevolent Union (AGBU) free online beginner Armenian class. Brendan joked that I could fuse both languages into some sort of new tongue, and that one language would be more efficient to study, but I thought taking an online course would be easier. 

While imperfect -- there was a lot of Audiolingual style drilling, some of the language and grammar points went by far too quickly with inadequate practice, the tests were far easier than the content, and I hardly had to speak at all -- it was something I had to do every week, which pushed me to commit to studying. It improved my letter recognition quite a bit. It was highly audio-based: pictures, yes, but mostly listening to other people speak Armenian and choosing appropriate words, pictures, or sentence completion items. There were online meetings, but it turns out that Yerevan time is not very convenient for me in Taipei. I still scored 100%, because again, the tests were too easy. 

Հայերեն շատ դժվար է, բայց ես լավ ուսանող էի:

For much of my class, however, I wondered one thing.

Why isn't there a free online Taiwanese course? Why aren't there several at different levels?

I could imagine the descendants of Taiwanese who immigrated abroad might have some interest in that, if they didn't learn the language at home, or didn't learn it very well. Foreigners who live in Taiwan or those around the world married to Taiwanese might also find it of interest. Perhaps not many will go on to seriously study the language to gain high-level proficiency, but perhaps that isn't the point.

It's doubtful that the AGBU expects everyone who takes its free courses to go on and become fluent speakers of Armenian. Most of my cohort were, like me, diaspora with an interest in the language of their ancestors that they did not speak. Will some association that parallels the AGBU in Taiwan ever decide to offer this for anyone who wants to sign up?

It wouldn't result in a cohort of fluent speakers, but it might help with awareness that Mandarin is not the only language in Taiwan, and in fact is the newest language to be introduced (forced) here. It would promote Taiwanese identity as something separate from Chinese identity, and help clarify that Taiwanese is not a "dialect" of Mandarin; it is a language, mutually unintelligible with Mandarin.

This would serve slightly different purposes to the AGBU courses: nobody except perhaps Azerbaijan is going around saying Armenians are not a distinct group of people with their own history and culture. I don't mean that in an ethno-nationalist way; whatever you think about borders, it's just true. AGBU is trying to connect սփյուռքահայ like me with their roots. While anyone is welcome to join, they don't seem to necessarily expect that non-Armenians will do so in great numbers.

A free Taiwanese course could have this goal as well, but also attract non-Taiwanese (like me!), spreading cultural awareness beyond Taiwanese communities here and abroad. Again, to offer a first step for people who are beginning to realize that Mandarin is not the end-all and be-all of language in Taiwan, and is certainly not the only option. And it would probably be more effective than ICRT's We Love Hakka for the Hakka language!

It would be amazing if other languages of Taiwan could start this up too. A free Hakka course? Cool. A free Amis For Beginners course? I would take that, honestly. I'd sign up for Atayal, Paiwan, or any of the others, as well. Language preservation efforts are underfoot in those communities already; I'll let the experts speak about whether or not that would be feasible or useful. 

I suspect most foreigners who come to Taiwan would still learn Mandarin, because it is a lingua franca, at least in Taipei. And many don't quite have the anti-CCP sentiment that I do; they likely figure Mandarin will be more useful globally than Taiwanese. And they're not wrong! But wouldn't it be great to give people more of a choice and get that minority who isn't learning a language purely for its utility? 

Beyond that, I just think Taiwanese sounds better. Goa khòa* Tâi-gí bō sim-míh ho-kóng, m-ku chīn ho-thia*! Words like koai* (to close) and cha-hng (yesterday) are fun to say because they're almost entirely pronounced in the nose. It's also much better than Mandarin at short replies. I don't know how to write these, but the ho, heh and hei-a are much more fun than “是的” and "好"! And I'd much rather say chhong-sía than 幹嘛. It packs more of a punch.

Honestly, for Taiwanese, the hardest part was finding a teacher. I started when I did because that was when a freelance teacher was recommended to me. Some of the Mandarin centers offer Taiwanese -- a friend of mine took a course at TMI, but they aren't widely advertised and I can't vouch for their methods.

In fact, a big problem with both Armenian and Taiwanese is that teaching methods are quite outdated. TESOL has been going on for years about communicative approaches -- this is a broad set of methodological principles that can involve Natural Approach, immersion, lexis-based or task-based methods -- and Mandarin seems to have just now figured out that communicative approaches work better over time than drills and tests. You may remember (?) that I quit Shi-da's Mandarin Training Center many years ago, mostly for this reason. I simply could not with those old Practical Audio-visual Chinese textbooks, lack of authentic speaking practice and demented over-testing. Nevermind their blue bent, and  that I got sick of the heavy lean towards standard PRC Mandarin. 

But my Armenian textbook, which I'm working through now that my course is over, is still a fully grammar-based notional syllabus that only hints at certain functional uses for the language. The design makes it readable, it doesn't overload with new vocabulary, it explains grammar fairly clearly, and has review built-in. But fundamentally you're still doing exercises and translations before creating your own sentences. The dialogues are inane ("How are you today?" "I'm not good." "I am good. And where is the French Embassy?") but it still hasn't taught me useful things for actually visiting Armenia like, say, "how much is it?" or "I'd like lahmaçun, sarma and a Coke Zero, please". 

My Taiwanese textbook is even worse, made bearable only by my lovely teacher, who adds as much actual language practice as she can and only tests rarely. It was typed out, likely by hand, sometime in perhaps the 1980s and doesn't appear to have been updated. It's Maryknoll, created by Christians to teach missionaries, and as such it does weird things like teach you the words for minister, priest, nun and monk before you ever learn how to address a woman (the minister's wife, however, makes an appearance early on. Lots of wives in this book, not many single women who aren't nuns).

There are essentially no comprehension tasks; it's composed almost entirely of a dialogue (some weirder than others), extensive vocabulary notes, and then some grammar notes. There are a few translation exercises at the end of most units. My comprehension is tested only because my teacher tests it. The book never does. 

The actual materials are really no better (and are in some ways worse) than the old Practical Audio-visual Chinese books that I hated so much, but I'm more motivated to learn Taiwanese -- yes, it's political -- and I like my teacher more. She doesn't go around like my old MTC teacher being all "我們中國人"! In fact, I think she'd rather drop dead than say anything of the sort.

Though the whole "we Chinese" business was my MTC teacher's right to say -- we can all identify how we please -- that's not how I feel about Taiwan, and to me that's not a helpful way to gain a closer perspective into Taiwanese culture, society and language. 

Other materials exist: my friend who took a Taiwanese course at TMI used 生活台語 and called it "okay". Chieh-ting Yeh (a friend of mine) and Alice Yeh wrote Harvard Taiwanese 101. Phillip Lin's highly inconcise Taiwanese Grammar: A Concise Reference is a solid reference material. 

Not a lot beyond my Eastern Armenian coursebook exists for Armenian. Reviews call it "innovative", and I was touched that when you buy it, the author mails you a copy herself from Yerevan. But really, it's just the best of a very limited field of otherwise terrible textbooks. 

Neither textbook, Armenian or Taiwanese, seems to have much in the way of visual aids. For Taiwanese, it's a good thing I speak Mandarin, as my teacher won't use English, because the book will pretty much never support you with pictures. On the upside, learning Taiwanese has been the biggest boost to my Mandarin in years. Have you tried to learn a third language through your second language? It's a real trip.  You get better at both. It helps that my teacher is a fierce gossip, offering all of her political opinions and deets on her annoying neighbors.

The result of these two modes of study -- one online weekly with a teacher, and one almost entirely at home or in a cafe by myself -- have led to two very different areas of proficiency in each language. My Armenian writing is so much better because all I really do is write. I have a much bigger lexicon because it's easier to look up whatever I want to know. With Taiwanese it's always a question of whether and how a tone changes, and whether it's rendered in some obscure character I can't really read, or Pėh-ōe-jī. I'm more limited to whatever is covered in the unit. 

And the current Taiwanese unit, by the way? "Would you like a smoke?" "No thanks, I don't smoke." "If you won't smoke, then please have a banana!" 

But with Armenian, I can hardly speak. I know what it should sound like from growing up hearing it, but I don't have anyone to practice with, and I won't for awhile. The grammar is complex enough (it has cases! Like Latin! Murder me, please!) that I have to stop and think before I create even a sentence. Taiwanese as fairly smooth grammar, so it tumbles out more easily. It helps that I can use it on a mostly daily basis.

My Taiwanese lexicon is much smaller, but I'm a far more proficient speaker. And yes, I know how to ask how much something costs, and I'll likely understand the answer. 

The main issue as I navigate my two baby languages is lack of extensive reading. I'm not exactly a Krashenite; I don't believe that extensive reading and listening are the only keys to fluency. But they are one very important key to fluency, and one I'll also admit I've fallen down on vis-à-vis Mandarin. In Taiwanese it's just a lack of literature I can read. My Armenian reading is much better,  but nowhere near the ability to actually read what interests me -- a key issue with the idea that extensive reading for pleasure is the only meaningful way to gain fluency. What if you can't yet read what you would normally read for pleasure? It's the eternal question of adult beginners who aren't engaged by materials for children but can't yet read, say, a novel. 

As I wrote the last time I covered this subject, I fill that void with music. It does work; I can look up lyrics so I know what is being said, and gain a clear idea of how the language sounds and flows together. It's not enough, but it'll do for now. It's a good thing I genuinely like the sound of Fire EX, because they comprise most of my Taiwanese listening practice now, with Ladaniva doing a lot of heavy lifting for Armenian. 

All of this leads me down a winding, weedy path of where to go next, and why. Like a pot of dirt left out to the elements, I don't have specific goals for either language. Whatever grows there, grows. I'm learning one language for heritage reasons, the other mostly for political and cultural ones. Or rather, both are political, if you take the view that choosing to learn a language at all, especially not for utilitarian reasons, is a fundamentally political act. If I wanted to learn a language that would be helpful in Armenia but more broadly useful, I'd have chosen Russian. Any foreigner in Taiwan can tell you that the language of greatest utility is Mandarin. I've decided I don't care. 

Even my Taiwanese friends will sometimes say they aren't concerned with whether their children learn Taiwanese because it's "not useful". It is, though! What about befriending your elderly neighbors? Getting people to like you in the south? Sealing a sale or contract where relationships matter? Making a clear point about the cultural and historical distinctness of Taiwan? Not necessarily wanting to be understood by Mandarin speakers? Those are all technically uses.

One language I might be able to use in daily life soon (I've already started incorporating it), the other may never be used that way. For Taiwanese, I may never achieve full fluency, but I might be able to use it in a majority of my daily interactions, and it does make a point. Maybe that point is this white lady is crazy. Maybe it's hey, there are foreigners in Taiwan who care about the country beyond a place to live well and make money. Maybe. After all, my Taiwanese teacher has said all of her students are foreigners. None are local Taiwanese. She charges a bit more than a typical tutor, and still has clients. Clearly, the interest is there. 

For Armenian, who knows. I find myself at a խաչմերուկ -- an intersection. There are a lot of weird things about this language that I want to better understand. Which bits seem to have non-Indo-European origins. Words like խնձոր (khndzor, or apple) came from somewhere, and no one knows exactly what the Hayasa/Urartu/Ararat people spoke. Why does every other language in the region call a couch a sofa, divan, settee or canapé, but Armenian calls it a բազմոց (bazmots)?  

Here's what I envision: perhaps never full fluency, but online classes once I get my dental situation sorted out (don't even ask). Then, a savings account. Approximately ten to fifteen thousand dollars. In...let's say...2025? I hop a flight to Yerevan, rent a short-term apartment, sign up for language classes and a conversation partner, and go live my life in Armenian for three months. If I save, I can probably afford three months, no? There are all sorts of things I missed the last time I went to Armenia, including the extremely old and fascinating dragon stones, cuneiform tablets, petroglyphs and weedy, overgrown fortresses.

I have a hankering for the unspeakably ancient, and now I can do that հայերենով --  in Armenian. 

Brendan's already on board with this, and would come to see me off. After all, he liked Armenia too. 

The 1992 Consensus is fake and Terry Gou sucks

Terry Gou, showing his entire ass on the fabricated "1992 Consensus"

It's sort of a "thing" for Taiwanese leaders and presidential hopefuls to publish opinion pieces in major American newspapers. The purpose isn't just to raise international awareness but to make the case to the world, in English, for why they should lead the country or why their vision for Taiwan's future is in the world's best interests. 

I'm not sure many would-be leaders of other countries find it important to do this, but Taiwan is in a unique enough geopolitical position that, right or wrong, Taiwanese leaders feel the need to garner not just local but global support and justify both themselves and -- frankly -- Taiwan's continued existence to the world. 

So far, William Ching-te Lai has had his moment in the Wall Street Journal. WSJ's subscription fees are far too high, but it can be read with a translation here (on Facebook) and a summary on RTI. It's pretty standard, an attempt to project stability and maturity as the DPP seeks to transition from a Tsai administration to one headed by Lai. Stability matters to the party named -- possibly apocryphally -- "troublemakers".  It's not a fair description: like or dislike the DPP, the only thing "troublesome" about them is that they have consistently championed Taiwanese identity and their fundamental perspective on Taiwan now mirrors the majority consensus. Basically, okay, cool. But not that interesting. 

As far as I know the KMT's Hou and TPP's Ko have not published anything similar -- I've been busy and in poor health recently, so if I've missed something let me know -- but Foxconn chairman, Guy Who Wants To Be President and all-around massive asshole Terry Gou has, in the Washington Post. Again, you can read a summary on RTI, including a response by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

It's exactly what you'd expect: we need the One China framework as a means to push forward talks with China, accepting the 1992 Consensus as a standing and valid framework, and pursuing peace by negotiating directly with China. He insists this is how Taiwan can preserve all it holds dear and China need not be an enemy -- forgetting of course that China has made it clear that their only goal is to annex Taiwan, there are no "talks" or bargains that will change this goal, and that we already know what happens when China promises to respect local governance...thanks to watching the tragedy of Hong Kong.

Overall, I have little to say about this that Michael Turton hasn't already said on Twitter. Turton points out that Gou's policy position was the standard between 2008 and 2016, under Ma Ying-jeou. You know, the least popular elected president in Taiwan's admittedly short democratic history. That policy not only failed -- China did not back off its ultimate subjugationist goal, the economy did not improve, and "talks" led basically to trussing up Taiwan to prepare it for annexation -- but it wasn't popular, either. 

In fact, to me that's one of the key points: Gou tries to make "abandoning" the "One China framework" the actions of an errant DPP, a political ploy. He completely fails to register that Taiwan does not pursue talks under a "One China" framework because the people of Taiwan do not want it. The vast majority do not want to be part of China. Most consider the status quo to be sufficient qualification to consider Taiwan independent. A large majority do not identify as Chinese at all, and those that identify as both almost always prioritize Taiwanese identity. Almost no one identifies as solely Chinese, and almost no one wants to move toward unification. 

This isn't the dastardly DPP's doing. It's the general consensus of the Taiwanese electorate. 

I recommend reading the whole thread, but here's my favorite bit: 

10/ (a) Taiwan is supposed to take control of its destiny ... by annexing itself to a giant expansionist power. History has no examples of states swallowed by a much larger power "taking control of their destiny" ..

— michaelturton (@michaelturton) July 18, 2023

Indeed, history has no such examples of states successfully surviving by allowing themselves to be swallowed by an expansionist neighbor. 

There's another thing worth talking about though. It's referenced often but, to my mind, not broken down enough. Gou leans strongly on the 1992 Consensus, supposedly an agreement reached between representatives from Taiwan and China that both sides agreed that there was indeed "one China", and provided a basis, apparently perpetually, for cross-strait interaction.

So let's talk about the 1992 Consensus, or more accurately, why the 1992 Consensus is a fabrication. It's utter horseshit. Made-up. Not real. Fairy dust. A joke. Bupkis. 

Gou's article unwittingly acknowledges this: 

The current Democratic Progressive Party leadership has only made the situation more tense. Under the so-called 1992 Consensus, Taiwan and China agreed to accept the framework of “one China” — although the parties have differing interpretations of that term — and held discussions that over the years resulted in a number of productive agreements. 

If the two sides cannot agree on what the term "one China" means, then they fundamentally did not agree to accept the same framework. They can't even agree on what the framework is. So, that's not a consensus!

If you can't agree on the meaning of a term that defines your framework, then saying "we agree to the framework" is meaningless, both functionally and semantically. For there to be a consensus on "one China" of any sort, the two sides would have needed to agree on what "one China" means. They didn't. So, no consensus:

According to the piece from the former deputy chair of Taiwan’s Mainland Affairs Council (MAC) and deputy chair of the Straits Exchange Foundation (SEF), they “reached a consensus with respect to the content of the agreement, but the Mainland insisted on putting the ‘one China’ principle in the preface of the agreement, but Taiwan strongly opposed this provision.”

“The agreement” referred to above is a 1991 negotiation on document authentication and registered mail between the two countries, basic communications. But the PRC insisted that even something so trivial and basic include the PRC’s “one China” definition. The KMT side rejected that.

Kao’s discussion observes that at the November 1992 meeting in Hong Kong both sides made five proposals but each rejected the other’s ideas. The KMT side followed up with three more proposals, but those too fell on deaf ears. The PRC delegation returned to the PRC.

“Therefore,” says Kao, “no consensus was reached during the 1992 talks as the negotiations broke down.”

China has not even said that they agree that there are, or can be, "differing interpretations" of the term "one China"! For the two sides to say that they agreed in 1992 that there was such a thing as "one China" but the details of what that is need to be worked out, well, that would be some kind of agreement, though not a full consensus. But they didn't even do that -- you can't say "the two sides disagree on the interpretation but there is a consensus" when the two sides don't even agree that it is possible to disagree on interpretation!

Even the Mainland Affairs Council recognizes that China has never agreed with either the KMT's interpretation or even the possibility that such an interpretation could exist:

The MAC indicated that, during the formal meeting between the leaders of the two sides on November 7, President Ma directly told the Mainland leader that the consensus reached by the two sides in November 1992 was that "the two sides of the Taiwan Strait insist on 'one China,' but differ as to what that means, and each side could express its interpretation verbally." This position accords with the ROC Constitution. President Ma has been consistent in his stance on the "1992 Consensus of one China, with respective interpretations." The core of this position is to highlight the ROC's sovereignty and Taiwan's dignity. The Mainland should seriously and pragmatically face up to this. [Emphasis mine.]

If China "should...face up to" what the 1992 Consensus means, then it has not actually accepted the KMT's definition of what the consensus even is. If you can't agree on the content of a consensus, it is not a consensus.

All this assumes that the agreement took place at all. Meetings were indeed held in 1992. But it's telling that there is no documentation from that time saying there was indeed a consensus reached, or what it was. The term itself did not entire the lexicon until 2000, when it was fabricated by the KMT operative to, in his words, "decrease tensions" (more likely it was fabricated to try and hurt the DPP's election prospects). 

Lee Teng-hui was president in 1992 when this "consensus" supposedly took place. What did he say about the guy who made up the term?

Su made the remarks yesterday in response to Lee who, during a Taiwan Solidarity Union seminar on Monday, said that the so-called "1992 consensus" was a fiction.

"Little monkey boy's trying to make up history," Lee said of Su, daring him to respond on the matter.

I know the KMT stopped respecting Lee Teng-hui a long time ago, but "we don't like that that guy turned out to be pro-Taiwan" isn't good enough reason to discount his view on the matter. Lee was indeed the unelected president when these meetings happened in 1992 (direct presidential elections began in 1996). He surely would have known of any true "consensus" arising in 1992. 

This is, of course, why nothing I've found written about Taiwanese history or democratization between 1992 and 2000 mentions the supposedly "historic" consensus. Odd, if said consensus actually happened, and was as important as the KMT and Gou insist it is.

He directly said it did not, and called the guy who made up the term a "little monkey boy"! 

The final reason why the 1992 Consensus is a fiction isn't so much that it never existed (though it never did), but that even if it did, it was an agreement reached not between Taiwan and China, representing the will of their respective populations. It was a meeting between the KMT and CCP -- political parties in power, but not elected. If we're being generous and saying it was two governments, not two parties, that met in 1992, it still doesn't matter.

China has remained a dictatorship but Taiwan, notably, has not. Agreements reached by the KMT dictatorship before democratization cannot and should not be forced on Taiwanese in perpetuity, in a democratic system where they have the right to reject the work of past dictators. The people of Taiwan never agreed to this "one China" framework. They were never given a say. Now, they have a say in their own government, so it's wrong to insist that all of the One China nonsense set in motion by the KMT must be forever binding. 

Why should it be? I can't think of a single good reason. If the people of Taiwan don't want it, then that should be that. I think after the disaster of Ma's administration and the success of Tsai's, and the fact that polls consistently show low support for pro-China rhetoric, shows that the electorate does not want "one China" anything. 

If they did, then that might be different. But they don't, and probably won't -- ever again, if they ever did. This isn't "because of the DPP'" or something the DPP brainwashed people into thinking: changing perspectives on sovereignty and identity have famously not followed electoral trends. If anything, the trends have brought the DPP to power, not the other way around.

That, again, assumes there actually was a consensus, leading to a framework. To repeat, there wasn't.  The only thing we can say with certainty is that representatives of the KMT and CCP dictatorships held meetings in 1992 -- not even the outcome of those meetings is clear. 

So if it's such garbage, why is Gou spewing it in the Washington Post? This is clearly not for Taiwanese, who mostly think the 1992 Consensus is not a real thing (because it isn't), or they believe it's real because they have to in order to keep their faith in the KMT. I kind of understand this: if your family gave up their life in China to flee to Taiwan with the Nationalists, it must be difficult or impossible to admit that they based their entire lives in Taiwan on a lie about the horror that the KMT really were. 

Taiwanese also know that no, "Beijing, Washington and Taipei" do not "share responsibility" for current tensions. They're not Washington Post readers predisposed to believing that the US is terrible so China must be alright, and Taiwan sure sounds troublesome. They're caught in this conflict, and they know exactly who is to blame: Beijing, and Beijing alone. They know who the provocateur is: Beijing, and Beijing alone. Not Taipei for simply wanting to govern itself in peace, and not Washington for thinking, finally, after all these years, Taiwanese have this right.

Gou is saying this for low-context or low-information readers, who might not care who becomes president of Taiwan, but might be persuaded that there's popular support for a "one China framework" in Taiwan (there isn't), and that this Terry Gou fellow therefore talks sense, unlike those DPP troublemakers. He's banking on the average American reader's lack of context to peddle some 1992 Consensus street drugs: after all, if you're a low-context reader talking to other low-context readers at a dinner party or happy hour, you sure sound smart if you know what the "1992 Consensus" even is! You probably didn't even think about whether Taiwanese wanted this or why the chairman of Foxconn is saying it in the Washington Post to get your attention at all. 

In doing so, he wants to show the KMT leadership that he can command US attention, because this man still wants to be president, even though he'd be terrible at it (his own workers hate him; do you really want to be a citizen under his leadership?)  The KMT still peddles 1992 Consensus snake oil, so this must sound like music to them as their own candidate falters in the polls and doesn't seem to be trying to win the election at all. If not to replace Hou outright, Gou at least wants a VP nod, or some other candy. 

WaPo probably should have fact-checked this better, but frankly, they were never going to. If someone like Gou sends them an opinion piece, they'll publish it because it seems like just "opinion", and he's prominent enough. Even if they tried, there isn't enough clear information on the 1992 Consensus out there: I could see a low-context fact checker deciding it might be a real thing, and letting it stand. 

So it's our job as informed readers to sniff out horseshit when we see it. And what Gou is trying to sell you is absolutely that. 

What Asian Americans think of their ancestral homelands, other Asian countries, and the US

Bit of a ponderous title, I know, but I'm writing this quickly. Lots of cool data just dropped from Pew on how Asian Americans feel about their homeland, other countries in Asia, and the US. 

You can read all of the data here, including some interesting parts on whether Asian Americans would move (or move back) to their homelands -- most wouldn't -- what immigrants vs. those born in the US think, and who different groups think will be the leading economic power in the coming decade (most still posit that it will be the US, China is a distant second.)

I want to focus on the things I find interesting. Pew, of course, won't speculate on reasons for the data unless they're direct responses from those surveyed. I, however, can do what I like! Just be aware that this is my opinion, and I'm just as capable of being wrong as any other person.

Some of the data is unsurprising: just about every group views their ancestral homeland more favorably than any other group. Taiwanese, South Koreans and Japanese view their own homeland more favorably than anywhere else listed, but that's not necessarily true for every group, with (for instance) Chinese Americans viewing the US, Japan, South Korea and Taiwan more favorably than China. This doesn't shock me: I could imagine viewing democratic nations with advanced economies favorably if you or your ancestors came from China -- famously unevenly developed, and certainly not free and democratic. 

Taiwanese have very highly favorable ratings of Taiwan, which is fantastic to see. There's a narrative about that Taiwanese are running away from the "ghost island" because life is getting harder for the middle class, real estate prices are skyrocketing, wages stagnating, and career opportunities curtailed. Perhaps -- Taiwan is hardly perfect -- but that's not reflected in how Taiwanese Americans feel about Taiwan. 

There is data on how Chinese Americans view China and Taiwan broken down by whether they're immigrants or US-born, but not Taiwanese Americans. That data is interesting, and I'll show it here, but not really what I want to focus on. 

Also unsurprising is the overall negative view of China, even among Chinese Americans. No other group shows this. Even Vietnam, the Philippines and India are favorably looked upon by those with that ancestry....but not China! China is not only widely disliked by Chinese Americans, but Asian Americans in general. 

It's also interesting to me that Chinese Americans view Taiwan more favorably than China (62% vs 41%). With all the influence operations coming out of China, backed by massive amounts of money and government support, it must be a blow to the CCP that Chinese Americans still don't like China very much, and in fact Taiwan -- which isn't even trying to court them! -- ranks higher than their own ancestral homeland. 

What's more, despite the CCP's attempt to portray the US as well as Asian democracies, especially those with advanced economies, as cesspools of crime, divisiveness and misery, Chinese Americans not only view them more favorably than China, but also think the US will continue to be the leading economic power in the next decade. Although Chinese Americans rank China's potential to be the world's top economy higher than any other group, it's still not a great result for China. 

Again, The Media has already created my reaction for me.

While Chinese Americans view China more favorably than any other group does, it's still just 41%. That's quite a bit lower than their favorability towards those aforementioned democracies with advanced economies. 

All I can say about this has already been expressed in song. (I prefer the cover, even though I've heard Radiohead hates it). 

In addition, as my glee is unbridled, please enjoy this gif of China disseminating non-stop hate at the US, Japan and Taiwan and then getting their comeuppance:

Also unsurprising is how unfavorably Taiwanese Americans view China: although other groups' favorability toward China is quite low, Taiwanese Americans really round out the pessimism at 2%. 

Gee, I wonder why. 

South Koreans being the only group to view Japan unfavorably was predictable. I'm more interested in how Japanese and Taiwanese view each others' countries. Again unsurprisingly despite the history of Japanese colonialism in Taiwan, Japanese and Taiwanese show an affinity for each other. 

Taiwanese rate Japan better than the US, and comparably with Taiwan. After the US and Japan, Japanese view Taiwan most favorably. Living in Taiwan this doesn't really shock me: Taiwanese generally seem to be very into Japan, much more so than Korea despite modern South Korean soft power. I do still hear Taiwanese in Taiwan say they like the refinement of Japanese culture and the cleanliness of Japan, but find Koreans "arrogant" or "hot-tempered". I don't particularly agree with that -- in general I enjoy visiting South Korea -- I'm just reporting what locals have said to me. It's not surprising that it would spill out into an immigrant population. 

Basically, Taiwanese like K-pop, Korean dramas and Korean fashion. But as a country to visit, they overwhelmingly seem to prefer Japan. I have been told outright that this is a cultural affinity thing (plus, in general, kanji is readable to Taiwanese whereas Korean is not.)

There's a popular deep blue-red (KMT/Chinese) narrative that Taiwanese love Japan because of some sort of colonized mindset. You know, the dog trained by its master loves its master or something. This also pops up in far left Taiwanese discourse, though perhaps not as much. I don't think it's true: ask just about any Taiwanese if they think Japanese colonialism was a good thing, and they'll say no -- colonization is never "good". But, a lot of Japanese culture seeped into Taiwan in those 50 years, and I can understand a certain perspective that Japanese colonialism, while not "good", was better than the Qing colonialism that came before, and the KMT colonizers that came after. 

Yes, the Qing and the Nationalists were/are both colonizing entities on Taiwan. That they came from China and most Taiwanese can trace some or all of their ancestry to China does not matter (and when the Qing arrived, most Taiwanese actually could not say their ancestors were Chinese. Qing settler colonialism changed that). Their mentality was -- and in the case of the KMT, is -- that of the colonizer, and they treated Taiwan like a colony. Some deep blues still do. 

Here's something I wonder about: of the three "favorable" Asian countries -- Japan, South Korea and Taiwan -- views of Taiwan are the least favorable, though still clearly over 50%. I would have expected more dislike for Japan overall given their history of colonialism across Asia, but it doesn't play out here. China, the contemporary aggressor, gets a lot more hate (ha ha!) than the historical Japanese empire. South Korea makes sense as they've become a soft power powerhouse. 

That could be the same of Japan -- it's easy to forget the atrocities of the Japanese empire when there's a new villain in town, and when post-war Japan has been a major exporter of soft power. 

This might also have something to do with Chinese influence operations spewing disinformation about Taiwan that other Asian Americans are picking up on, but given their overall negative view of China, I'm not sure I can support that notion. However, it might play a role, given that positive views of China go up as educational attainment goes down: 

Asian Americans with higher levels of educational attainment often feel more positively about the places they were asked about than those with lower levels of formal schooling:

When it comes to views of India, 42% of those with a postgraduate degree have favorable views of the country, compared with 35% of those with a bachelor’s degree and 27% of those with less formal schooling.

The pattern is reversed, though, when it comes to China. Asian Americans with lower levels of education tend to feel more positively about China than those with more education. [Emphasis mine]. For example, 17% of those with at least a bachelor’s degree have positive views of China, compared with 23% of those who did not complete college.

For India, I can see this. To many, it may look like just a "poor country" (again, not a reflection of my opinion, just a common one I've heard). Get a bit more educated about the world and you'll see that it does have a real, if flawed, democracy and a pretty vibrant progressive/left movement. And it's simplistic to call it "poor". Like China, it's complicated.

Honestly, having lived in both countries, I enjoyed India far more, and happily return every few years for a visit. There's a vibrancy to India that China lacks. If I never go to China again, I'll be fine with it. 

There is a persistent narrative that Taiwan is less successful than the other Asian Tigers and not quite as nice as Japan. This could have something to do with it -- it doesn't look as shiny as South Korea or Japan for sure (Japan was not an "Asian Tiger" but, given similar levels of development, I'm counting them here). 

I don't agree with this: Taiwan has better universal health insurance, solid purchasing power and better wealth equality. Although other countries do outstrip Taiwan in some indicators, all that really tells me given the wealth equality gaps in those countries is that the rich have more, and can do more. I still think there's an argument to be made that despite its faults and imperfections, Taiwan might just be the most successful of the advanced Asian democracies where it really matters. 

I don't have much else to say, and I know this is an abrupt conclusion, but I suggest you go read all the data for yourself. It's pretty interesting! 

 

The thought-terminating cliche of "Have you been?"

A random picture from my travels because yes, I probably have "been" -- but how much does that really matter?

It feels like the ultimate conversation ender, and I'll admit I've used it myself. When debating (well, Internet Shouting) with someone about, say, the brutality of the Chinese Communist Party or the status of Taiwan or just about geopolitical issue, it's both easy and satisfying to shoot back at a hostile interlocutor: "have you even been to China?"

Or India, or Venezuela, or Turkey, or whatever country's particular situation is being discussed. 

I'm certainly guilty of this, because, when it comes to the sorts of Geopolitical Internet Shouting Matches I tend to get into, I actually have been to just about any country I might get into a "discussion" about (again these aren't really discussions, at least, they're not carried out by people who are actually listening to each other). Yes, I've been known to relish the moment when Shouty Guy asks it of me. 

Have you ever been to Taiwan? Yes, for the past 17 years, and I'm here right now. 

All you Westerners living in Taiwan don't even know what China is like! Perhaps, but I used to live there and have returned more recently than you'd think for someone with my political views. 

You don't know the real China! It's not just Shanghai and Beijing! Okay, but I lived in Guizhou, so of course I'm aware of this; my experience outside the major cities is why my opinion of the Chinese government is so grim in the first place.

You act like you know what's going on in Xinjiang, but have you ever even been there? Yes. Admittedly it was awhile ago, but I did once travel overland between Urumqi, Kashgar, Karakul Lake and Hotan. I have probably spent more time and covered more ground in Xinjiang than just about anyone asking this. From the way Uyghur people felt about the government foisted upon them even back then, I absolutely believe they're being subjected to a cultural genocide now. 

On the other hand, anyone I'd ask the same question to has almost certainly not had such on-the-ground experience. It's not that people who've spent time in a place will automatically have more thoughtful or nuanced views -- I've met some real dunderheads who've spent decades in Taiwan and yet have gotten the whole country astonishingly wrong -- but one can usually tell from the actual language used. If it reads like they got their opinion from either United Front talking points or major international media, tempered not at all by personal experience, then you're usually talking to someone whose opinion is formed more by what they want that country to represent vis-a-vis their own worldview than anything else. You know, that China is great because they are claim to be socialist or communist, and just look at their high-speed rail network! It must be a paradise that validates everything I want to be true about how the USA is terrible and therefore China must be great! That sort of thing. 

There's a problem with the "have you been?" narrative, though. It's not that real-world personal experience doesn't matter -- it does. But it's also the worst kind of thought-terminating cliche. If you can throw down on who's spent more time somewhere, and that person "wins", then it's not really an argument at all, let alone a discussion. It's the geopolitical equivalent of "climate change isn't real because we had a really cold winter here last year" or "vaccines are dangerous because I know a kid who got a vaccine and then was diagnosed with autism!" It's anecdotal, empty-headed shouting.

I don't want to "win" an argument about the CCP because I've been to China and the other guy hasn't. I want to win it because I'm right! (If I am indeed right, which of course I think I usually am -- we all do. Human nature.) I don't want to win an argument about Taiwan because I've lived in Taiwan for 17 years. I want to win it because my observations about Taiwan are more accurate than the other guy's.

It's not that my experience in these countries doesn't matter, it's that it's not the only thing that matters, and perhaps not even the most important thing.

Because it's a thought-terminating cliche, it circumvents the much thornier issue of who is actually right, or at least closer to being right. I know more than one foreigner in Taiwan (hell, more than one Taiwanese person in Taiwan) who has beliefs about Taiwan that I find to be utterly asinine. For instance, I do know people here who believe that Taiwan's only path forward is through some kind of "One China" framework. That person might have spent years or even their entire life in Taiwan, and yet they'd be wrong compared to, say, someone who's never been here but believes (rightly) that Taiwan has the right to determine its own future and poll results consistently show that most Taiwanese do not consider themselves Chinese.

Let's take one of my favorite stupid Twitter arguments as an example. Some dipshit venture capitalist who's been in China for maybe a year posted about how great China was, citing driverless vehicles and some super-smart kid he met. He insisted the genocide in East Turkestan (Xinjiang) was highly questionable because it wouldn't be practical or good for the economy to erase Uyghur culture or disappear Uyghur people. Drew Pavlou -- a divisive activist who gets a lot of attention -- challenged this guy (to be clear, so did I). 

He shoots back at Pavlou some variation on "have you been to China?" 

Because, of course, Chad Brosephson McVenture-Capital was there at that moment (posting on Twitter through an illegal VPN without seeming to realize it was illegal, to boot), and Pavlou's never been to China. He couldn't go even if he wanted to, because he's gotten the Chinese government's attention. 

Here's the thing, though. Like him or not, Pavlou was right and the venture capitalist douchebro was wrong. It really didn't matter who'd spent time in China and who hadn't. We have sufficient documentation of the CCP's various and horrifying brutalities to know he's right, and the douchebro had...a few months of Rich Person Life in China, and an anecdote about a smart kid. 

As usual, I had a bit of a trump card on this guy, because he might've spent time in China but I've spent more, and probably seen a greater swath of the country. I absolutely speak better Mandarin and have most likely read more history. 

But again, I don't want to "win" because I speak better Mandarin than That Guy, either. I want to win because his anecdotes aren't helpful and his opinions ridiculous, based on exactly zero documented evidence.

I have seen that tactic play out -- oh so you've been to [Country] but do you speak the language? -- and I find it similarly unhelpful. Of course it helps to have communicative competence in the language of a country one is discussing. Certainly it can promote deeper understanding, and I respect it. But it's possible to be fluent in Mandarin yet wrong about China. It's not enough. I know people who speak terrible Mandarin or none at all who, nevertheless, have a more accurate view of the Taiwan-China situation than foreigners I know who speak beautifully and are married into local families, but have swallowed the TVBS deep-blue pill because it's what their in-laws watch.

"Have you been?" does help to root out the drive-by opinionators, the people who only care (or claim to care) about issues like Taiwan's sovereignty because it validates some other belief they have about the world: usually that the US, or capitalism, or the military industrial complex are good or evil or what-have-you. They've not only never been to Taiwan, never met a Taiwanese person and certainly don't speak Mandarin, but whether or not they actually care about Taiwan is debatable, if not outright doubtful. 

I'll never say that personal experience is useless, or that we shouldn't even consider whether someone has been to a place or speaks the language when evaluating whether or not their opinion has merit or deserves attention. As such, I'll probably never purge "have you been?" from my own lexicon. 

Certainly, because I've built a life and made a material commitment to Taiwan, I'm not terribly interested in the opinions of people in the US who think someone like me should have this or that perspective. If they want to move here, maybe I'll care (though honestly, I probably wouldn't), but if they want to preach from Washington DC or wherever about Taiwan, what it needs and what challenges it faces, well -- so what?

But I am going to challenge myself to use it less, and focus on the actual merits of someone's argument more. At the same time, I'll keep a closer eye on whether what I'm trying to say makes sense, or whether I'm leaning too hard on "well I've been to East Turkestan/China/ Taiwan/India/Armenia/Turkey/wherever, and you haven't! And if you have, I've spent more time than you, or have better language skills than you!"

Only by looking at the actual merits of an argument can we see that someone like -- say -- Drew Pavlou is actually correct about China, and Tyler McTechbro is wrong even though he's been.

It's not that actually having been to a place doesn't matter, but it's too simplistic, and we can do better.

The online teaching cloister

I moved to Taipei to enjoy the city, not to be stuck in my apartment all day

A few weeks ago, I began my first face-to-face foundational TESOL training course since COVID hit Taiwan. We'd gone online at some point and were struggling to resume in-person learning. 

It had truly been so long that in the fog of the late pandemic I no longer remember when it happened, only that trying to teach that course online presented a host of problems. I couldn't really demonstrate various in-person interaction patterns, for instance. Nor could we discuss classroom management components such as boardwork and layout in an impactful way. A practicum (demo) is a vital component of this course, but it's harder for inexperienced teachers to lead interactive demos online. Everything takes longer online, too, and it was a challenge to cover the course requirements. 

When we finally opened a face-to-face course, on day three someone tested positive for COVID. Within a week, about half the class was infected, and I was teaching face-to-face with four students and a computer running an online meeting with the other three. I then tested positive, and it was back online for all of us.

My heart sank when I realized how it would go: back to my home office, back behind a screen. Yes, it's an incredible privilege to have a spare room for a home office at all, but it is draining to be stuck in there for days on end, without many chances to go out while Brendan left everyday for in-person work.

Gently put, it's a cloister. More critically, it's a prison.

While I've transitioned back somewhat to in-person teaching and teacher training, enough of it remains online that my latest stint at home prompted me to reflect anew on teaching and teacher training as a profession now that someone like me is just as likely to be working at a screen as in a room with their students or trainees.

To be blunt, I don't like teaching or teacher training online. At all. I've become accustomed to it, and of course I can do it. And yet, while some say online teaching brings people together -- it's possible to take classes you never dreamed possible if teachers and students can meet remotely -- I feel as though the screen divides me from the learners. It causes a rupture, a block. 

Everything takes longer, everything requires more planning. It's more difficult to develop rapport, especially when I have to put my foot down about cameras being left on if at all possible. Some never do, and there are situations where I can't (or shouldn't) force the issue. Imagine having students whose faces you've never seen, whom you'd never recognize on the street. I didn't become a teacher to interact with black squares all day, and I find it very hard to develop rapport this way.

Even with cameras on, I find it difficult to build the same connections with learners and trainees. To "make eye contact" I have to look at the camera, not the face on the screen. It's the same for the learner. I can toggle between these and create a simulacrum of actual, in-person, we-see-each-other eye contact, but it's not actually the same. The effect is ineffable, but definitely there, and entirely negative. 

One-on-one classes aren't so bad, as you only have to do this back-and-forth with one face. The effect is deeply felt in groups, however, especially if one of us is presenting.

I had an office job in the US all those years ago; lots of screen time, very little face-to-face contact. I hated it, and became a teacher because this is exactly what I don't want. It's kind of like attending meetings all day (something which can be tiring if you're working remotely), and you are the coordinator and host of every single meeting. I'm good at this in person. Online? Honestly, not so much -- because I don't want to be at a computer, period.

Pre-pandemic, my various jobs required me to jet all over Taipei and beyond for work. I explored parts of the city I'd rarely or never set foot in otherwise. 

Again, I realize this is a privilege. I understand that most people take the same route to the same office every day if they’re not working remotely, so “going in” isn’t particularly desirable. I get bored easily with routine, which is why I chose a career path through which I’d frequently find myself in different places. It got me out of the house, and I was able to see different parts of the city. My schedule changed often enough that there was always something at least a little new in this; it never got monotonous and I didn’t resent the extra time it took. I like to be on the move. 

You know what I don’t like? Being stuck at home most of the day, unable to leave my neighborhood or even my apartment, sometimes for entire days. If I have a training course in the morning, then an afternoon and evening class, the furthest I’m likely to go that day is the nearby 7-11. If I’m really lucky I might get to go to the ‘everything store’ down the street! 

I hate this. Plenty of people like working from home as it frees them from tiring commutes and allows them to be comfortable in their work setup. That’s great for them. It’s not for me. Mental health walks are uninspiring; I’m not good at walking with no destination. I’ve found myself making up reasons to go outside, which usually involve coffee or shopping, but they rarely take me anywhere new. No new cafes, little local restaurants or novel bus routes. No “hey there’s an Indian restaurant near Sanmin Road!” 

There is nothing worse for an extrovert than being at home all day, usually alone as Brendan still teaches face-to-face, and not feeling the rapport bump from work, either.

I have had more in-person opportunities recently, having started a new part-time gig that I'm enjoying quite a bit and pays very well. It's partly face-to-face, and that helps -- but they also underscore that being mostly online is a problem.

In fact, let's talk a bit about boredom and big career questions.

It’s easy to say I’m transitioning from teaching to more teacher training because it pays much better (to be clear, it does), but I’m also motivated by the level of challenge. It seems as though it should be easy to coast at the sort of work I’ve been doing forever, but I tend to get distracted and stuck if I do the same thing for too long. I know stagnation affects my performance, so it’s time to reach. This means more work overall, but that's the fundamental truth of what it means to seek challenge.

If all of this sounds vague, it’s because I don’t want to give too many specifics about work for all the obvious reasons. Besides, I genuinely like the people I work with. Most of them run their businesses well, or at least well enough that I don’t walk. I don’t want to hop on my blog to gossip about good people. 

Yet internally, I’ve been fighting…something. Distractedness? Demotivation? The delicate balance of work with my sub-optimal health? It could be any or all of these, and 

one of the leading causes is the pivot to online teaching.

Of course it's not the only reason. Working in Taiwan can be tough in certain ways: raises are rare, there’s no such thing as a paid holiday, it’s a battle just to get employers to do basic things like contribute to labor insurance and pension. In general I do not feel that teaching in Taiwan pays enough at the higher levels of ability and experience; I stay in Taiwan because I love Taiwan, but the honest truth is I could make more money in just about any other Asian country. 

Teacher training is a lot fairer in terms of compensation, and I won't lie: that's another reason why I gravitate towards it.

Every day I fight the notion that I’m good at my job simply because I’m a white native speaker. I think I am indeed good at my job, but that’s not the reason! 

None of those are the core of it, though. I’m used to the lack of benefits, and beyond wanting to be comfortable I’m not particularly motivated by money. (I'm only somewhat money-driven.) I didn't start to feel this distractedness until work mostly went online. Period, end of story, that's it: everything else is manageable but remote teaching is not what I want, and never will be. 

What's worse, because I don't actually want to be teaching online, I'm not as good at it. I'm less careful; teacher talking time shoots up; interactions don't vary as much as would be optimal; I'm less innovative. I'm less motivated online, full stop.

Online teacher training is even harder to pull off, but at least the level of challenge keeps it interesting.

Just to clarify, I’ve been forthright about this at work. Nobody reading this who knows me in real life would be surprised to hear it. It doesn’t really change the current situation, though — how could it? 

There are benefits to being online, however, that almost negate this (almost). Collaborative documents, chat boxes, interactive whiteboards: all things made possible by an online interface. It would be harder to schedule my own Taiwanese lessons if we met face-to-face, and I will probably start Armenian lessons online in the near future -- something that would have been impossible not that long ago. Trainees who can't attend my sessions in person are able to log in for the online ones; they get a benefit they wouldn't have been able to access in the Before Times.

That said, all this new technology never runs quite as smoothly as it should to be considered a true advantage. There’s always that one learner who can’t figure out how to access the materials on Google Docs (or can’t access it at all if they’re in China or have some sort of work-related block to that function). Zoom’s interactive whiteboard is clumsy and annoying. My noise-canceling computer is fantastic when my cleaner is vacuuming, but not great when we need to use audio recordings, as they don’t tend to play clearly. Getting everyone to mute themselves to listen on their own takes — you guessed it! — more time. 

Teaching online doesn’t even come with the only real benefit of remote work, which is freedom to travel and do your work elsewhere for awhile. I can’t go to a cafe — it’s a class! I suppose I could head south or east, but I can’t, say, fly to Europe or the US and work from there unless I want to keep some very weird hours. I’ve tried (ask me about 6am classes at my sister's old apartment in Hoboken someday) and it never really works out. 

It's caused me to ask some Big Career Questions. I love teacher training and don't want to give that up, but if I took on less teaching work and picked up, say, an editing or materials development job, at least I could go to a cafe for a change of scenery instead of spending the entire day in my little office cloister. I won't turn down online teacher training because I enjoy it too much, but I have considered refusing online language teaching to do this. I haven't pulled the plug on that yet, but we'll see. 

There’s no clear solution here; this is just my life now. If I had a different sort of job where I was desperate to escape the fluorescent horror and greige cubicle walls of an office, I’d probably welcome remote work. I became a teacher in part to avoid that! One of the reasons I’ve sought out more work is for those face-to-face hours; it will make the online portions of my job more bearable. At least I’ll have more chances to go somewhere!