Be nice to China - they'll own you soon

China has about $1.3 trillion dollars in foreign-exchange reserves under its mattress and it's not afraid to use them.
It adds more than $1 million to that pot every day and its Sovereign Wealth Fund is shopping around the globe for stuff to buy. They have enough cash to buy up all the banks in the US, but enough sense not to.
Also in the business of buying up chunks of foreign banks and infrastructure are the UAE, Singapore, Saudi Arabia and...Norway. The latter has a hefty pension fund fueled by off-shore oil which it may be willing to gamble on the turbulent seas of the global economy.
For now though, just memorise that list of countries and remember that they'll probably own a portion of your posterior by the end of the decade.

On buying stuff in Beijing

Walk into a modern shopping mall in China and it looks like any other.
The shopping centres are mostly new, they are swish and they sell branded goods - many of which aren't even fake. Amazing.
But it is very different to what I'm used to. And the biggest difference is that they have no interest in making the customer's experience easy and efficient. Oh no. The primary function of businesses in Beijing often seems to be employing as many people as possible.
Rather than designing a streamlined, direct way to give people what the want and make sure they leave feeling good about their purchase, they like to prolong the process.
This week I found myself having to buy something (batteries, as it happens) and, not for the first time, had to jump through hoops just to give them my cash.
First up, I had to decide on which batteries I wanted. In this, I was assisted by four young staff who had been standing around until I approached the counter.
They tried to talk me into cheapo batteries but I forked out and extra two Yuan for a brand that might last a little longer than twenty minutes.
Once I'd made my choice, the four staff members realised that none of them had a key to the glass unit protecting the batteries and a manager was required. Two managers arrived on the scene and, fair play to them, they found the key, put it in the lock and turned it - but not without reigniting the earlier debate over which batteries I should buy.
Okay, that was a rigmarole but I was ready to leave. But when I took out the cash nobody would take it. Instead, they insisted on writing up a very detailed docket which had to be signed by a sales assistant under the supervision of, well, as many colleagues as possible.
I went directed towards the far side of the shop where two bored-looking cashiers were sitting idly. I gathered that I was to bring my receipt to the idlers but the team of sales reps were holding my batteries hostage until I had paid.
At the cash desk, both members of staff got involved in the transaction, with one of them taking the lead as a highly officious air descended on the pair of them. I'd think they were work-proud pros if I hadn't seen them yawning 30 seconds earlier.
The receipt was signed and stamped in triplicate, before each page was separated before being loosely stuck back together with the aid of a watery sponge. And so I was sent back to the sales team, who inspected the docket, put a copy in their drawer and returned a receipt to me with the batteries. Exhausting.
The batteries cost 12 Yuan (about €1.20) I can't imagine how long it must take to buy a car or a computer. Or many of them it must take to change a light bulb.

Power struggles in China

Batteries in China are a bit shit.
I've never gotten more than a day or two out of the AA batteries needed to power my digital camera. Granted, the camera may be heavy on the juice but this problem never seemed like such a big problem before.
I usually find myself with pockets full of batteries - some new, some old - any time I go out to take a lot of photos. So often I've bought batteries which were rooted out of the bottom of the bag, or taken from an open pack, by a shop assistant.
Sigh. The Duracell Bunny would last ten minutes in Beijing.
[End of rant]

Did Reporters Without Borders Go Too Far?

I'm a little conflicted about yesterday's protest by members of Reporters Without Borders (RSF).
If you missed it, members of the press freedom group made a very public protest during the torch-lighting ceremony in Greece which officially kicks of the countdown to the Beijing Olympics.
In a truly shocking security lapse, one member managed to get behind a Chinese official as he addressed the small crowd.
China's state broadcaster seemed intent on illustrating their heavy-handed approach to censorship by dropping its live coverage of the event when the protest began.
RSF have plenty to complain about when it comes to press freedom in China and I'm fully on board with their fundamental point that journalism supports transparency and protects human rights.
The fact that China has booted journalists out of Tibet is a prime example of how conditional Beijing's supposedly new-found openness is. The fact that the RSF website is permanently blacklisted and that my internet connection dropped when I searched for information about yesterday's protest is another.
But is it really the job of journalists to storm the stage during an official function?
They surely obtained access thanks to their press passes. Next time, authorities will be a lot more careful when it comes to vetting journalists.
RSF is right to raise all the issues it raises. But its action yesterday may not help.
For one thing, it goes against the notion that journalists are independent observers. It also gives ammunition to the paranoia of authoritarian regimes who like to paint foreign journalists as spies.
Journalism plays and important role in improving the plight of the powerless. So does human rights activism.
But journalists should leave the grand gestures to activists - and vice versa.

Is energy rationing the future?

I've a feeling I'm not going to like the future very much.
The Beijing authorities have just decided the heat should be switched off in government-owned offices and apartment buildings across the city.
The last few days have been chillier than recent weeks, but the government likes to turn on the heating in the middle of November and turn it off in the middle of March. This typically blunt policy aimed at curbing energy use doesn't care how cold my toes are of an evening.
It's currently nine degrees Celsius outside (and inside, probably) and it'll be just four degrees on Friday, but that's not cold enough to warrant a blast of central heating, according to the Mandarin mandarins.
But is this something we'll all have to get used to?
With oil prices soaring and reserves set to dry up (eventually), restrictions on energy use may become a reality across the globe.
That might seem like the work of a Nanny State to those in the 'free' world. But while in Australia last month I was struck by how strictly water conservation rules are applied.
The government decides who can water their plants and when; and anyone selfish enough to break the hose pipe ban can expect to be 'dobbed in' by their ever-vigilant neighbours.
Diktats from government officials? Spying neighours? Sounds like liberal democracies are ready to adopt the Chinese model: The government knows best.
Right. I'm off to boil an inefficient kettle for the hot water bottle...

Guardian and Youtube hit by media blackout

The Guardian, Youtube, and The Globe and Mail are just some of the big-name websites to have incurred the wrath of Chinese censors this week.
Web users are greeted by the all-too-familiar sight of the above message if they attempt to log on to Youtube, while restrictions on BBC News online and Wikipedia remain.
Even some Wikipedia proxies have been targeted, proving that the censorship capability of China's propaganda department is becoming increasingly sophisticated.
As trouble flairs in Tibet, the government has tightened its grip on the internet in a maniacal bid to prevent Chinese people learning what's going on in Lhasa. Journalists have also been kicked out of the Tibetan capital and several rings of checkpoints have put in place as security is ramped up.
State media in Beijing are blaming the violence on the 'Dalai clique', branding as 'another huge lie', the Dalia Lama's statement that he does not seek Tibetan independence.
Monks, according to Chinese media, were lacerating themselves to make it look like the authorities had been heavy handed. In fact, says Beijing, the police have been a picture of restraint.
The problem remains that if the media are banned from entering the region and reports on the issue are censored, there's no way of knowing who to believe.

Happy St Patrick's Day from Beijing

Poor ol' Paddy had to pose for hundreds of photos with Chinese girls - none of whom had any idea who he was. Patience of a saint.