You've got to hand it to Jack - and many do

Is the Nov 11 shopping extravaganza a day for lightheartedness, or is there something sinister about it?

It's 11 pm, and all across China WeChat is bubbling and fingers are twitching.

Shall I or shan't I? Shall it be this or shall it be that?

"Hi everybody. Please show your orders."

"I found these boots for 645 yuan ($100), half the price in shops. I'm falling asleep, but I've got to wait until after 12 to pay for them."

"Here's my order for an oven. I'll keep awake until midnight, but I'm really tired."

"I've got to stay up till 1 am to pay for my beauty enhancer (1,438 yuan). There's a really good freebie with it."

"I thought you said you weren't going to buy anything?"

"This really is my last time with this business." (Accompanied by emoticon of a crying face.)

"Just now my mother called me, asking, 'Are you ready for 11-11?'"

"My father has texted saying, 'No more shopping for stuff you're not going to use."

"Are you crazy? It's too expensive. There's no way it's worth that." (Referring to a headband costing 1,580 yuan.)

(Several hours pass.)

"I couldn't get into the payment system at 1 am because it was jammed, but I got in two minutes later. I'm not sure whether I missed out on the freebie or not."

It turns out that the freebie in question is either an ion comb plus electronic toothbrush, an ion comb plus massage equipment or a hair dryer, depending on where you ranked in the first 6,500 buyers, or nothing if you were the 6,501st - who may have punched in the order at 1:02 am.

But that seems of no import to the lady who feels in need of beauty enhancement. She has just enhanced her material wealth by buying a pink coat, Japanese shampoo, snacks, Spanish wine and few other things at a cost of 3,000 yuan.

(Several more hours pass.)

In newsrooms across the world, fingers that had been twitching are relieved.

"China's Singles Day sets spending record," the Financial Times of London says in its headline.

Our enhanced buyer with the about-to-be-enhanced face may have been among the tens of millions who have helped enhance the bottom line of Alibaba, the godfather of Singles Day, helping it rake in a little more than 91 billion yuan in 24 hours.

For the world at large, which always hangs by breathlessly waiting for economic figures from China that it hopes will be harbingers of economic salvation, the news is lapped up, and our friend who feels cosmetically challenged gets her just deserts for helping deliver the world a dose of good cheer: she turns out to be buyer No 3,004 and lands a hairdryer.

A non-Chinese friend of mine has mockingly compared so-called Singles Day in China with Christmas in the West. "We have Father Christmas, who can't stop giving, and you have Jack Ma (the founder of Alibaba), who can't stop taking," he jokes.

However, that quip does raise the serious question of whether this shopping extravaganza that seems to have become as important on the calendar as December 25 or February 14, the Chinese Spring Festival, is something to be lighthearted about or whether something more sinister is at play.

It ought not to be forgotten that before Ma came along, Nov 11 had already been commandeered to a cause, the plight - if that is the right word - of single people.

This shopping, it was rationalized, was a light-hearted once-a-year event that would distract them from their loneliness for a day. But whenever fun is in the air, you can always be sure that those who want to make a quick buck will not be far away. So Nov 11, not unlike Christmas in the West, has turned into a shopping frenzy almost devoid of any relationship to its origins.

One sinister element in this is that it has become so dominant that if you do not play the game, you are likely to be seen as slightly odd.

In fact, on Nov 11 and in the few days thereafter, "What did you buy?" seems to have become a new greeting. The funny thing is that nobody seems to really care about what you bought. As long as you show that you are part of the game, everyone is happy.

A cousin of mine in Shanghai who on Nov 11 spent more than 5,000 yuan, part of that being on an oven, told me that what she looks for on Nov 11 is "a sense of happiness, a shopping extravaganza, and something to talk about with my girlfriends".

"To be honest, I don't know if I will use the oven that often," she says.

I know of people who, like gamblers after a bad night at the casino, regret having spent so much on Nov 11 and self-mockingly say they ought to chop off their hands.

They never do, of course, and the following year, after some pre-sales finger twitching, those same hands are back at the keyboard searching for a soul-salving bargain.

linjinghua@chinadaily.com.cn

(China Daily 11/21/2015 page14)