Home / News
One evening almost two weeks ago, when I chatted with a taxi driver amid a thick, apocalyptic smog that shrouded Beijing, he asked me: "How come fewer people wear face masks, when the air gets worse? "
He appeared to already have the answer, as he quickly said: "Perhaps we are numb now. There is really nothing we can do about it."
His words left me speechless for the rest of the ride. I didn't wear a mask, like many of my colleagues. But few of us would admit that we don't feel anything about the foul air that hits the city with increasing frequency. Rather, we've become resilient or even stoic after years of living with smog.
Call it ignorance or arrogance, but the Chinese public accepted the notion of smog with its potential damage to health only several years ago. Some used to laugh at international athletes who came to China with masks clamped on their faces.
Most believe the hazards will be long term, as currently there is no medical evidence that links breathing the smoggy air to the proliferation of cancer. And whether a mask can help reduce exposure to the alleged small, harmful particulate matter in the air, remains an open question.
And many thought that smog could go away, if we wanted it to, as what happened during the Beijing 2008 Olympic Games and APEC Blue last year. Meanwhile, measures to ensure the blue skies could disrupt residents' lives and affect officials' careers hinging on economic performance. The need to put food on the table often outweighs environmental protection.
However, despite the confusion and conundrum, the undercurrent of public dissatisfaction also swells as smog worsens.
People initially reacted to smog with satire. I could personally relate to some popular jokes when I saw that the high-rises close to my home appeared like strings of lights hanging from the night sky, while neon billboards floated in the air as the silhouettes of buildings receded into the darkness.
But the persisting smog has also begun to unnerve even the toughest with the traditional Chinese virtue of "eating bitter". Parents now demand public schools install air purifiers in classrooms and sports facilities, and calls have gained cadence for government departments to be held accountable if they fail to take precautionary measures when heavy air pollution hits.
The furor has prompted Beijing to issue its first red alert for the latest round of smog, a watershed precedent that could force millions of vehicles off the roads, shut factories and construction sites, and close schools and nurseries.
It has also sent me and co-workers scrambling for self-protection, including a mask, as well as new arrangements for work and life.
The driver was wrong about his second observation: There is a lot to be done about it, for our own good.
