Feeling second-best

Somewhere out there in the seemingly endless depths of the internet is a TED talk about not using the word “best” to describe a person’s achievements. The idea is that it sets up unnecessary competition and leads to unwarranted hard feelings. Regardless of how you feel about that idea, there is some truth to the concept of unnecessary or unrequited competition. I witnessed a display of those concepts yesterday during a conference about the making of documentary films in China. Although I was somewhat out of place at the conference, I learned much and observed some fascinating communication from and about Chinese government officials, academics, and film industry professionals.

As seems to be the norm with many big, expensive, showy events, the conference began with presentations from sponsoring agencies. In the United States, this takes the form of an opening ceremony, session, or the ever popular “remarks.” In Beijing, this included nearly two hours of speeches by government officials and representatives from academic and business partners. Throughout the speeches, I noticed one prevailing theme in multiple forms; the idea of the United States as primary, but newly inferior, competition in all areas of media production.

When the first government official spoke, I picked up on this idea. After a rambling few minutes praising the leadership of the country, the official told a story of visiting the U.S. and riding the high-speed train. Based on his description of the location, it was probably one of the high-speed commuter lines that Amtrak runs on the East Coast. He abruptly ended his presentation after this story by laughing and saying that the train service was anything but high speed and that the trains in China are far superior. I’ve traveled by train in both countries, and his criticism is apt, but oddly placed and communicated.

Next, a professor spoke about the fall of U.S. influence in the world, but specifically in all forms of media and the prowess of Chinese companies creating their own versions of American social media. If his data are accurate, he’s partially correct. The number of people using Chinese versions of social media and other internet applications is impressive. However, much of this is likely due to censorship and the sheer number of Chinese people. This twisted praise was especially interesting. I don’t claim to know much about international trade, but I can guarantee that U.S. companies would love to have access to the money possessed by 1.4 billion Chinese. However, I don’t think being cut out of the market by the government is viewed as competition for that market by U.S. corporations. Again, the competition seems contrived and one-sided.

Several speakers throughout the day talked about the fall of U.S. media as the worldwide standard and the rise of local media. I’m a fan of local media. After all, no one can tell the stories of their people or nation like a person from that location. This viewpoint was expressed fully by the industry professionals at the conference. There was a genuine spirit of cooperation and encouragement of new ideas and independent thinking. The discussion centered around ways to make “good and relatable documentary films.” Authenticity, professionalism, and openness were professed to be the most valuable traits of a documentarian.

Several European filmmakers and industry executives spoke during the middle of the day. It was fascinating to watch them carefully approach the issue of government control and censorship within the expressed triad of authenticity, professionalism, and openness. One representative from the UK said simply, “until the Chinese government ends censorship of documentary films, all materials produced by Chinese filmmakers will be viewed under the cloud of propaganda.” Ouch. He was more direct than the others, but they all echoed his sentiments on some level. The Chinese industry professionals seemed to agree via silence.

At the end of the day, additional academics and government officials revisited the calls to competition with the United States. This was done in the form of stories about the “terrible” U.S. health care system, corruption in the U.S. government, and the number of people living in poverty in the U.S. I didn’t necessarily disagree with anything that was said, but the framing was incredibly interesting. Each item was displayed as a shortcoming of the U.S. and then contrasted with an achievement by China. Enthralling.

Being who I am and having spent the entire day internally analyzing what seemed to be expressions of feeling second-best even though there was only one competitor, I asked the professor who talked about the decline of U.S. influence about his data. He confided that it was accurate, but it left out the influence of censorship and population. Asked if presenting data in that way bothered him, he shrugged his shoulders and said, “China needs to think they are superior. These numbers give them that feeling.” Wow. Wow. Wow. He went on to explain that he is a citizen of the U.K. living and working in China because it exempts him from paying taxes in the U.K. He’s moving to Hong Kong in August which will afford him the same tax exemption, but his work will be free from Chinese censorship. Is that the person you want telling your country’s story? What is your preferred telling of the story worth to you? I listened to his justifications and felt repulsed by what I saw as a lack of ethics.

Given the current state of politics and government in the United States, it seems that we may be similar in ways that are very unflattering. Who do we want telling our stories? Even if it’s our preferred story, does it matter who tells it?

I’m left with one question about being the “best.” Does that designation mean anything if it comes from within, and you’re the only one aware of competition for the title? There are times when I need to ask myself that very question.