4
Television in Urban China

The medium enters everyday life

China's political stresses in recent years reflect tensions between and among the requirements and routines of competing and contradictory 'cultures' within the nation itself. The official culture — the government's prescribed mode of living — has been imposed on the people since the 1949 'liberation.' But Chinese society is grandly informed by its own history, and certain key aspects of the country's cultural contours still are deeply influenced by traditions that long predate and continue to transcend any formalized set of rules for living. Pragmatic responses to the exigencies of everyday life comprise another fundamental part of China's cultural condition. And now, a provocative imagined culture has emerged, especially among students and city people, that promotes the possibility of a future that is not limited to governmental provisos, national traditions, or everyday problems. The new visions are of a truly modern China, one that joins the tide of socialist nations everywhere that have come to embrace democratic principles and a less centrally-controlled economy. It is within this cultural complexity that television has entered, interacted with, and influenced Chinese society.

Despite cultural and political orientations that promote ethnic unity and nationalism, there are many Chinas. Some distinctions are demarcated politically (e.g. party members v. others; supporters of the official reformation v. resisters), economically (e.g. state employees v. private unit merchants), and linguistically (Mandarin v. Cantonese and other regional dialects and accents). The biggest gap, however, is between life on the farm and life in the cities. About three-fourths of China's people inhabit the countryside, where everyday life for many peasants, especially those in the outlying regions of the north and west, has not changed much for several generations. Families there have far fewer televisions. Some have no electricity or even candles. Others never travel more than a few miles from home in their lifetime. They may never see a train. Precisely because of their lack of exposure to the modern world, and the unsophisticated political consciousness that results from such isolation, Deng was able to reliably call on People's Liberation Army soldiers from the peasant classes to finally put down the insurrection in Beijing in 1989. In today's China, political activity is an urban phenomenon. Mao Zedong's peasant revolution of the 1930s and 1940s has been supplanted in the 1980s and 1990s by a resistance movement that is based in the cities. Television is a central fixture in the resistance. The influence of television in China's cultural and political milieu can best be understood by first entering ethnographically into the everyday life of city-dwelling Chinese families.

The Urban Regions

Even though the vast majority of China's population lives in the countryside, there are more city dwellers in China than in any other nation in the world. Most of them live in the eastern third of the country. Differences in lifestyle among the various urban centers are significant — not only to researchers who try to understand this complex society, but first and foremost to Chinese citizens themselves. To be Shanghainese, or Beijingnese, or Cantonese is to be a particular kind of Chinese. Each region has its own cultural traditions and sense of pride, and, in some ways, the regions seem more like different countries than parts of the same nation.

An illegal migrant population comprised mainly of boys and young men has moved from smaller towns and rural villages to the big cities in the north and to the SEZs of the south during recent years. But most Chinese citizens do not move from one city to another except under circumstances that are dictated by the government — work assignments or population relocation. Furthermore, there has been a tightening of security in the cities since the 1989 Beijing violence. Many homeless or illegal residents of Beijing and other big cities have been sent back to their home provinces. This lack of mobility inspires a kind of forced identification with the area in which one is born.

Cultural differences that exist among the diverse regions of China range from food, to language, to courting behavior, and have been the subject of much scholarly inquiry. Some generalizations can be made right away. First, the north differs greatly from the south and the coastal cities differ from the inland cities. Generally, people from northern China can be described as more prudent, culturally conservative, and politically engaged than those who live in the south. It is no coincidence that the political upheaval of the 1980s took place mainly in Beijing and Shanghai. Lifestyles of the northerners, however, are generally more sedate than those of the Pacific coast or south. The southerners have a more lively and diverse cultural environment that has been influenced greatly by foreigners throughout the centuries.

In keeping with these rudimentary distinctions, contrasting social behavior can be observed. First, northerners and inland people tend to defer more to members of the older generation than do those who live in the south or on the coast. Young Chinese in the northern and inland cities are more obedient to their parents and grandparents and are usually less 'wild' outside the home. In Shanghai and Beijing nightlife is still very subdued compared to Guangzhou, where the city is alive at night with open-air restaurants, street vendors, and discotheques. Social and sexual relations between young, unmarried Chinese differ by region too. As one young Shanghainese man explained, 'girls in the north protect themselves more than the girls in the south do.' Pre-marital sex is strongly discouraged by the government and by most parents everywhere in China, though illicit liaisons do take place, often during the day when parents are away at work.

Housing differs by region too. No Chinese city is outwardly poor com pared to another and most Chinese citizens live in state housing where the monthly rent is no more than eight yuan (about $2). It is not always clear to what socioeconomic level a family belongs by simply observing the size or interior of the home. We interviewed Communist Party members with white-collar jobs who were living in houses that are inferior to those of non-party workers of a lower level. Private unit merchants have become the gentrified class in China today. They enjoy much greater material freedom, including access to better housing.

Life in Shanghai

Much has been written about the colorful history of Shanghai, China's largest city and long considered to be the nation's center of industry, commerce, and fashion. Rainy and humid during the summer, more mild than Beijing during the winter, Shanghai is one of the world's most interesting and important cities — and the people who live there know it. The streets and sidewalks are crammed with people all day, every day. Taxi drivers speed perilously along the city streets and the buses are always jammed. The primary mode of transportation, though, is foot power —bicycles and walking.

Close your eyes while standing on a Shanghai street during the summer and you'll hear the jingling of bicycle bells, sandals sliding along the pavement, street vendors selling watermelon or tea eggs, crickets chirping from bamboo cages suspended inside homes, water leaking from kitchen drains into the partially-open sewer system, perhaps some music from a cassette recorder and, the most pervasive sound at night, the soundtrack of television programs, often emanating in unison from homes since many families watch the same shows. Light pours through the windows of homes onto the streets in Shanghai, changing color simultaneously with the imagery of television programs.

Although people who live in Shanghai are very aware of their city's reputation as the leader in commerce and culture, one thing is on the mind of every young person there — improved living conditions. The most obvious feature of everyday life in Shanghai is the extreme tightness of space in which people live. There is less floor space per person here than in any other Chinese city and while the people who live in Shanghai may be used to it, they don't like it. One family we interviewed, for example, lives in two rooms, one 12 by 8 feet and the other 4 by 8. The parents and their son, who is 27 years old, sleep in the 'big' room. Their daughter sleeps on the floor in the other room. They share a kitchen with others in the building and use a public bath. The living quarters are located on the second floor of an old apartment building near the downtown area. In order for the inhabitants of the apartments on the third floor to get to their rooms, they must pass through a staircase that is located immediately adjacent to and in view of the family we interviewed. This was not the home of a poor Shanghainese family. The father is an accountant for a hotel, the son is an instructor at an educational institute, and the daughter is an accountant for a petroleum company. It isn't that they cannot afford to move elsewhere or that they are out of favor politically. There simply is no other place for them to go.

The street has a special appeal to adolescents under these circumstances. Shanghai's main drag, Nanjing Lu, originates at the harbor, adjacent to the Bund, and extends through the heart of the business district. This is by far the best place for strutting, and the early evenings are filled with young people walking slowly along the busy street. Before 1949, Nanjing Lu and the other big streets in Shanghai were where all the 'bad' things were happening. In some respects Shanghai's streets still have that feeling. While the streets have been tamed since the Nationalists left, several bars, clubs, discos, and fancy restaurants have opened recently and Shanghai is becoming lively once again.

Life in Beijing

Compared to the bustling, overcrowded conditions of Shanghai and the outwardly social atmosphere of Guangzhou, life in Beijing is quiet. It is not really possible to know China without knowing Beijing. Decisions about all aspects of life are made there. Beijing is the seat of national government and the locus of much intellectual life in China, particularly in the scientific areas. China's brightest young people study at the three prestigious universities located in the city's northwestern suburbs, the area where dissident astrophysicist Fang Lizhi made many passionate speeches and where the student-led movement for freedom and democracy originated. According to a college professor from Xian who had studied in Beijing for a year, people in the capital have 'broader sight' than those outside: 'They have more information than we do. Everything happens faster in Beijing.'

Beijing is a sprawling, flat, and not particularly attractive city of many diverse neighborhoods. The city proper has a population of about six million people but more than ten million occupy the greater Beijing area. The architectural mixture is striking; buildings in the center of the city reflect Soviet, European, British, traditional and contemporary Chinese designs. There are tall high-rise buildings and one-story, commune-style structures with small courtyards. Some of the apartment complexes are modern and well designed, others are old and falling apart. Many of the buildings have no running water. Living conditions in Beijing differ from family to family, despite a national policy that is designed to reduce material differences. The inequality is due in part to the slow conversion of family residences from one-story buildings to high-rise apartments.

Beijing homes have somewhat more floor space than those in Shanghai and more furniture simply because there is room for it. In Beijing a family may have a couch and some easy chairs, for instance, instead of the stools and one or two soft chairs that are found inside Shanghai homes. And whereas Shanghai families like to adorn their quarters stylishly, Beijing residents typically make less of an effort to decorate their homes.

Life in Guangzhou

Located in the southernmost region of the People's Republic, Guangzhou has a far more relaxed and permissive feeling than Beijing or Shanghai, partly because of the warmer temperatures, but also because of the city's close proximity to Hong Kong. Guangzhou is China's 'southern door' through which many travellers pass on their journeys to China. The flow of foreigners through Guangzhou is nothing new. Commercial and tourist trade up and down the Pearl River from Hong Kong is an important piece of China's history. Many Guangzhou residents have relatives and friends in Hong Kong and in other overseas Chinese settlements. Interaction with them over the years has given the people of Guangzhou greater insight into life outside the country than most other urban residents in China have had.

Materialism abounds in Guangzhou. Although life there seems almost tranquil when compared to Hong Kong, Guangzhou is a hustle-bustle city with lots of taxis racing about, privately-owned motorcycles on the streets, disco music pouring out of audio cassette playback machines, black market money exchanging, and the presence of many foreign goods including Japanese motor vehicles, televisions, VCRs, cassette recorders, and cameras. The private unit sector of the economy is far more active and apparent in Guangzhou than in any other major Chinese city.

The way of life in Guangzhou simply seems freer than it does in the north. There are fewer constraints on individuals. Less restrictions are placed on the children. Adoption of Western styles in Guangzhou, including fashion, music (Hong Kong, American, and British pop music tapes are much more available here than in the northern cities), and other cultural elements, has been accompanied by a loosening of traditional values in communication. The personality of Guangzhou reflects the activity of its youth: children argue loudly for the right to view their favorite television programs, couples date and embrace openly, young businessmen spend money as fast as they can because it is illegal to have too much money, unrelated young married couples live together in the same house.

The Open Door policy has further enhanced Guangzhou's development. Exchanges of every type can be consummated easily. Many Guangzhou citizens speak of the relative independence and permissiveness of local government as an important part of life there. The southern part of China has always had a separate cultural identity, but in the age of modernization the differences have sharpened noticeably.

Life in Xian

China's three most famous and important cities are certainly Shanghai, Beijing, and Guangzhou. Most of the 85 families we interviewed live in these urban centers. Historically, however, Xian is also one of the country's great cities and, because of its size and location, it is a type of place that I wanted to represent in the research too. Xian is a dry, dusty, ancient city that is located about 200 miles southwest of Beijing. The center of the city is surrounded by a high brick wall, a preserved remnant of feudalist China. Xian has become a popular stop for tourists who are attracted to the nearby Qing tomb, the beautiful and historic Winter Palace, and the startling terracotta soldiers.

Xian's fabled past is much more impressive than its contemporary image. Many residents have immigrated recently from other cities as part of a government relocation program designed to meet national production goals in various industries. Residents are sometimes reluctant to praise the city or think of it as home. But a common theme among the people is that things are improving. Housing in Xian is being renovated, its many historical monuments are being restored, and consumer goods are available in greater abundance. All of this has taken place recently. Several people told us, for instance, that imported Japanese television sets came to Xian years after they were available in other cities.

Street life in Xian is teeming, particularly during the summer. At about 10 o'clock each night the city takes on a distinctive nighttime personality. In a manner far more similar to Guangzhou than to its closer neighbor Beijing, Xian is a lively city at night with thousands of food vendors preparing and serving delicacies from their portable kitchens. People stay up late during the summer here, socializing on the streets. Groups of men sit on little chairs in the middle of the streets to play mah jongg or cards as pedestrians, bicyclists, and occasional automobiles pass by. Some people sleep outside their homes on beds that they place there to beat the heat.

The neighborhood

The close relationship between government and family in China has led to the development of orderly and secure neighborhoods. Though economic reform has confused things in recent years, the socialist principle still determines the character of Chinese cities:

These lofty goals have in part been realized in China. The security and control that characterize the neighborhoods are achieved by means of residential registration (a declining practice lately) and the monitoring of activity. Every neighborhood has someone who watches things closely. There is nothing secret about this. Neighborhood monitors, usually older women, are well known to the residents and in the downtown areas they wear armbands for recognition. As a result, people feel quite safe where they live. Women, for example, can walk unaccompanied with little or no fear of attack. An outsider is usually recognized by residents because people know what their neighbors look like.

Some neighborhoods are made up of families of diverse occupations while others are composed of men and women who are employed by the same work unit. Friendships and interpersonal conflicts that develop at work, therefore, are often carried into the neighborhood. Many marriages result from acquaintances made at the workplace because that is where men and women can meet each other naturally. It is also common for the children of these marriages to work at the same place. So, family members often work together, then return home where their neighbors are also their co-workers. These long histories of contact are diminishing somewhat now with the relocation of families into new apartment buildings.

Commensurate with the slow but steady rehousing of families is an alteration of social activity in urban Chinese neighborhoods. The new high-rise

buildings have had the effect of reducing casual social interaction. The effect is exacerbated by the fact that very few buildings have elevators so far more effort is required to enter and depart individual housing units. A substantial reduction in the number of children families now have, and the consequent number of neighborhood contacts they would create, has further contributed to the privatization of life in urban China.

The Chinese Family

The very notion of 'family' is itself an enduring cultural value in China. A striking and persistent feature of the culture is the normative presence of intact nuclear families living together. The family is still the heart of Chinese society. Its stability and importance cannot be overestimated. Even the family name signifies a great deal. In China, there are few surnames. Surnames reveal one's geographic origin and status. Some names are associated with high intellectual standing. A person's name in China is usually made up of three parts: the surname is placed first, the generational tag is second (all children of a particular set of parents frequently have the same second name), and the individual's name is third, an ordering that reveals the importance of the family group vis-à-vis the individual

Chinese families differ from each other in many ways, of course, but certain features of family life are characteristic. First and foremost, a strong interdependence exists among family members. One's identity typically is influenced far more by family membership than by individual personality or personal achievement. A family member's earnings, for instance, would probably go into a family account (usually managed by the mother), which would then be redistributed according to the needs of individuals as they arise. Parents take care of their children — even their sons who have their own families — with material and emotional support and they expect to be taken care of by them when they grow old. Traditionally, family responsibility extends even to worship of deceased ancestors.

The socialist system provides guarantees that certain basic needs are met and, in exchange, husbands, wives, and children who are past school age are all expected to work. Employment and living conditions are quite stable for nearly everyone — too stable, according to many, as opportunities for changing jobs or residences are slim.

The conduct of family life has become a major policy issue in China. Broad requirements have emerged: the one child policy, directed mainly at urban families, was designed to limit family size with the eventual hope of reducing the population in the next century. Educational and vocational opportunities are to be equitable for males and females. Equality in living conditions at home for adult family members is another socialist intervention into male-dominated family traditions. As Hareven points out, 'since all property is owned by the socialist state, the father cannot rule his family through control of family property as had been the case in the feudal organization' (Hareven, 1987: 672). Furthermore, elders are no longer to be respected and obeyed simply because of their age.

Of course these goals have not been entirely reached. It is no simple matter to stop hundreds of millions of families from producing babies. In fact, a relative baby boom took place in the late 1980s, requiring that the government give up its goal of limiting the population to 1.2 billion by the end of the century. Many parents, especially fathers, still want to have a son. It has also been no easy task for men to give up their longstanding domestic authority. Women still carry out the bulk of time-consuming chores at home. And despite government policy and the practical difficulties of changing residences, the divorce rate is increasing. Families with private unit status are less required to follow government rules about domestic life because they are far less supervised.

A tremendous emotional and pragmatic investment is made by parents in their children. The hopes of the family often rest on the children, particularly the sons. The one child policy has intensified the great Chinese preoccupation with children. Urban children get a tremendous amount of loving attention from their parents and in-laws now, creating what has been commonly called the 'spoiled brat' syndrome. Children bear great responsibility to carry on the name and reputation of the family. Nothing can damage a family more than to have a child — especially a son — fail at something, have an incorrigible personality, or make a major mistake, such as being caught in a crime. Conversely, the greatest form of flattery is to make positive comments about a couple's child(ren). To tell a father that his son is 'like a little tiger' is indeed a very great compliment.

Some government positions on correct family behavior follow time-worn traditions of Chinese society existing from feudalism through nationalism to socialism. Other official actions are meant to change certain aspects of traditional life that are now considered to be inconsistent with the ideological principles of the socialist revolution. In general, government requirements enforced since 1949 have been designed to piece together the 'best' of traditional Chinese philosophy with the egalitarian contours of socialist ideology. Family harmony, 'taking care' of each other, diligence, and respectfulness are all characteristics of Chinese society that were in place in China long before the 1949 revolution, and still exist in contemporary Chinese communities all over the world.

The sanctity of marriage is emphasized. Getting married is momentous in China for several reasons: the idea of landing a good husband or wife is paramount in Chinese culture; contact between males and females is a subject of moral education beginning in school where boys and girls are discouraged from talking to each other; there still is no real 'dating culture' (Whyte and Parish, 1984); the housing situation militates against unions that require additional space; the work unit of both partners must approve of the timing of the marriage; parental approval is very important; and household items must be stockpiled to equip the new home.

Chinese couples now have the right to marry of their own choosing rather than have the marriage arranged by the parents, as was the feudal custom. The dowry that was expected in earlier times is no longer a part of the transaction, yet it still exists sometimes on an informal level. Couples often have to wait a long time before they can get permission to marry. A young Beijing couple, for instance, eats dinner and watches television together at the home of the parents of the would-be groom, where they will reside after marriage, but they can't move in together yet. They have everything ready — a room, furniture, and a TV — but they cannot get any time off from work for a wedding ceremony and short honeymoon. So, they were waiting for the young man's twenty-fifth birthday to ask the work unit boss for permission to marry since birthdays are considered holidays and a little time away from work is normally granted.

Inside Chinese homes

According to the socialist plan, living quarters are to be functional, not showy. The relatively underdeveloped economy also limits the options, of course. So, the typical urban Chinese home is small and has few decorations or material displays. Most older homes have no flush toilets or no toilets at all. Families use public baths and toilets.

Although the construction of apartment buildings has changed things somewhat in recent years, many families must share kitchen facilities with other families in the same building, a condition that can lead to conflict. There is no alternative to this arrangement, however, until more families can move into apartments that are equipped with separate kitchens. Sharing kitchen and bathroom space necessitates an enduring intimacy between families because neighbors rarely move in and out. In their study of Chinese immigrants to Hong Kong, for instance, Whyte and Parish (1984) found that the average time of residence in the same house or apartment for families on the mainland was 18 years and that only 10 percent of their sample had changed residence during the preceding five years, and only 1 percent during the previous year. Families know each other by the simple fact that they live so close together and rarely move.

Housing conditions affect many social activities, not just neighborhood relations. The prospect of marriage may be a romantic commitment for newlyweds in China, but it is a practical problem for everyone in the family because it typically requires that the couple move into at least semi-private space together. Many young couples first move into the home of the husband's parents. When the couple has children, there will be three generations in the house with the grandmother likely to assume much responsibility for raising the child. This is because both parents usually work while grandparents usually do not (many people retire at the official age of 60 for men, 55 for women, or before).

We interviewed one five-person family in Shanghai that lives in a single room measuring 8 by 12 feet. They sleep outside when it is hot and typically watch television through the front door. The family worries constantly about housing since it negatively affects nearly every part of their lives. The eldest daughter, a 28-year-old waitress in a government restaurant, does not want a romantic relationship until she can realistically expect to find separate housing. The mother says that the family wants to buy a sofa, but asks 'where can we put it?' Their 24-year-old son sleeps on a tiny portable bed that is put in the middle of the room every night. His mother said, 'Foreigners use this kind of bed when they are camping [a belief she picked up from TV], but we use it normally in our home.' There is a chance that the family will be assigned a new home in the future, but that does not help the children much in their effort to start their own families. The father complains, 'we cannot even dream for the children to apply for a home because of the shortage.'

Rooms in many homes are altered by time of day in order to change function. If a family has only one room the space is used at various times to serve meals, study, watch television, and sleep. Furnishings are moved around throughout the day in order to equip the room for its immediate purpose. Some families spend their leisure time and mealtimes at the homes of their parents or other relatives if accommodation there is more spacious.

Urban Chinese homes will nearly always have the following items: thermos bottles for keeping water hot, especially for tea; an electric fan; clothes cabinets and dressers for clothing (few homes are equipped with closets); television sets, radios, an audio cassette recorder; an electric clock; neon lights and exposed wiring; small stools or folding chairs sized to fit under the table in the main room; photographs of the family, either framed or placed under glass on the table where food is served; calendars and other print art hanging from the walls; a clothes horse or wooden hooks on the walls with apparel and towels hanging from them; small mirrors and sometimes a full-length mirror; a hard bed covered with a mat; various bottles, pans, and food-serving utensils; hand-held fans; plants; a news paper or other publication with the current television listings; clothes, bags, purses, and an umbrella hanging from hooks on the wall; and other furniture or decorations that fit the size of the house, economic level, and tastes of the family.

Television in Urban China

The introduction of television into the homes of Chinese families may be the single most important cultural and political development in the People's Republic since the end of the Cultural Revolution. City dwellers now consider themselves to be, among other identities, members of the television audience in China, a self-image that embraces considerable cultural and political power. Television has become part of the Chinese family now, promoting a reorganization of daily activity, an expanded understanding of the meaning of the home, an altered sense of leisure time and how it is to be spent, and a challenge to many cultural traditions and official discourses.

Modes of viewing: stages of adoption

We can identify four phases in the adoption of television in Chinese society. For the vast majority of the people, the first regular viewing took place in work settings and in public locations. The government placed television sets in front of party committee houses that are located in urban neighborhoods throughout the country. Dozens of families brought little stools on which to sit as they gathered around the sets to watch at night. TVs were usually placed out of doors, so bad weather prohibited viewing:

The second phase of television viewing in China was also communal — in the homes of 'early adopter' families who either were able to afford a set or had been given one by their overseas relatives. As the elderly Guangzhou couple describes above, the transition from group viewing on the street and in work facilities to private homes sometimes even crowded out the host families. Those who had television sets may have had the luxury of convenient viewing, but they frequently had to tolerate congregations of viewers who were barely known to them. The tiny front room (sometimes the only room) could be filled with 20 people or more. More recently, many farm families have gone through the same transition. Furthermore, group TV viewing is still an important part of holiday traditions every-where in China, especially in the rural areas, as is described by a sociologist in Beijing:

Cozy, if uncomfortable, scenes such as this one intensified personal friendships and antagonisms in the cities during this stage of adoption too. In some cases, according to our narrators, access to television was denied to neighbors who were not well liked by the host family.

The next two stages of adoption — saturation of urban homes with television and the transition from black-and-white sets to color models —represent current conditions which I describe in the remainder of this chapter. Television viewing still takes place in public in China but the locations and purposes differ from the early days. Now, some big department stores put television monitors and VCRs that play videotapes of American and Japanese cartoon programs in front of their buildings when the weather is good in order to attract customers. Group viewing is also common in some work settings and in higher education.

Television as a cultural nuance

The impact of television on the everyday life of urban residents can be understood partly by analyzing how people spend their leisure time. To some degree, the patterns of change reflect alterations that are characteristic of any society that gets television. But in China, TV entered an environment where leisure-time options are extremely scarce, where personal mobility is profoundly limited, where there is very little ritualistic activity (little organized religion and few social clubs), and where program content suddenly made the world visible to a society that had lived in near total isolation since 1949.

Television has replaced or altered many non-media diversions. A Beijing viewer, for instance, told us that television viewing is an alternative to gambling: 'TV helps us avoid this problem. Now with TV there is no need to gamble for fun.' This man overstates television's ability to distract people away from gambling, which remains a huge problem in China. But for him, and for others who made similar comments, television is exciting. TV is an alternative to the street as a source of entertainment in urban China too. Some people say they seldom go outside the house after dinner now.¹ Even sleep has become a less prominent leisure-time activity since television arrived. A striking feature of everyday life in China is the uniformity of daily routines. Nearly everyone gets up early in the morning. Still the tendency for many families now is to extend the length of their evening leisure time to include more television viewing.

Of course, television has become a functional alternative for other mass media. Many people have substantially cut back on their movie-going habit as television is so much more convenient and many films appear on TV anyway. Even though work units continue to provide free tickets to movies, many workers do not bother to attend very often any more. Riding a bicycle to a movie being shown many miles away after working all day is no easy way to relax, especially when the weather is bad. One important implication of the availability of television in everyone's home is that the importance of the work unit as a provider of special leisure-time opportunities, and the authority that inheres in the power to distribute tickets, has greatly diminished.

Time spent with radio has also decreased, but not for the same reasons. Radio is just as convenient as television, perhaps more so, but it cannot stand up to the visual medium as an attractive source of entertainment and information. Reading novels is also said to have declined since television arrived as has attendance of live theater, especially presentations of traditional Chinese operas. Television viewing has not replaced newspaper reading; it has altered the time of reading. For many office workers, reading newspapers takes place during the day where they work. There is rarely an objection to this practice, so long as the worker completes the daily tasks and does not irritate the managers.

Family routines and television viewing

Nothing has affected the routines of Chinese families during the modernization period more than television. Very few urban residents believe that their lives have remained the same since television arrived. A 59-year-old neighborhood control attendant in Shanghai claims to have no favorite programs and says he does not like television at all: 'I follow myoid habit — sleep. I go outside the house after dinner or I go to sleep.' A hotel attendant in Beijing told us that life is no different with television because 'the shows aren't any good.' Her husband agreed saying that he prefers to go outside or to friends' homes to play mah jongg. These firm rejections, however, are rare.

In the vast majority of cases, urban residents believe that their lives have improved considerably since TV came into their homes. Generally life before television is described as 'dead' or 'boring.' A heavy-duty machine operator from Beijing, for example, said that before television 'there was no other thinking except the government's educational meetings. Now, we have something to do with our time, something new to think about, and a way to relax.' Those three dimensions — passing and restructuring time; exposure to and interpretation of novel symbolic material; and changing the mental orientation — are common expressions of the impact of television on Chinese society. The first consideration mainly concerns family life; the second is primarily a matter of ideology; and the third is one of the psychological implications. I will discuss the latter two considerations in other chapters. Of interest to us here is the impact of television on family relations.

There is a time to watch television. A Beijing machinist said 'now we have some consolation after work. Without television you come home and have nothing special to do.' A 66-year-old retired grandmother in Beijing said, 'when it is time, you just want to watch TV.' Before television, families awoke on workdays (six days a week), went to work, returned home, fixed dinner, and occupied the early evening hours with some activity including socializing with family and neighbors, listening to the radio, going out to movies on special occasions, and generally going to sleep very early. Special habits developed within families, but uniform work requirements, the lack of leisure-time alternatives, and low-quality public transportation did not permit or encourage much diversity from family to family in their daily routines. So, what used to be a common routine with three major activities (work, eat, sleep) now has four basic features (work, eat, watch TV, sleep).

Adults don't return home until late afternoon on workdays. Chinese homes are not always vacant during the day, however. Very often the grandparents are home taking care of the child(ren). Daytime television viewing, therefore, is done primarily by retired grandparents and pre-school-age children. The rapidly growing number of retired people in China has led to development of daytime programming that is designed for them.

Children who are old enough to go to school leave the house at about the same time as their parents in the morning and return in the late afternoon. Most of them spend some time playing with their friends after school. A 13-year-old Beijing junior high school student said, 'I go to school, play with the other kids on the street, and watch TV. That's all there is to do.' Many children run back and forth between their homes and outside after school and before dinner. But as one Beijing parent explained: 'When cartoons are on, all the kids from around here run into their homes to watch. When the children hear the theme songs of their favorite shows, they forget what they are doing and run inside to watch.'

Working adults arrive home about 5 o'clock in the afternoon. We talked with many families where men then look after the children and help with the cleaning and preparation of dinner. But in the majority of cases, families say that women are the ones primarily responsible for these duties in addition to their daily jobs outside the home. The sharing of domestic responsibilities in China is as likely to take place between women as it is between women and men. That is, working women may depend more on their retired mothers or mothers-in-law than on their husbands for help. And, of course, the daughter-in-law must always respect and help her husband's mother. Interaction between women of different generations is a product of shared domesticity that is made necessary by housing and economic conditions. It also follows the tradition of domestic cooperation within the extended family.

The period 5-7 p.m. is when families prepare and consume dinner. Television is sometimes used as a babysitter at that time as neither women nor men are likely to be viewing. Children's TV viewing may conflict with consumption of dinner in some homes, but this is not a big problem for many families because the television set is located in the same room where food is consumed. For young viewers, 6 p.m. is a special time since that is when the children's programs, including the action-packed Japanese cartoon shows, are on the air. The atmosphere of the home changes when the children's programs begin, an alteration of the environment that may be as important to the children as the shows themselves. The situation is very different for teenagers, however. They are far less likely than young children to be drawn to television routinely, preferring to spend time after school socializing with friends or playing sports. At 7 p.m. the CCTV newscast is aired, signalling the beginning of adult viewing. This is the start of 'prime-time' television viewing in China which they call 'golden time.'

Influence of space on viewing

Because of limited space, options for where families can put their television sets are few. Almost invariably the set is located in the largest room and is typically the visual focus of that space. In many homes it is placed in the corner of the room for the best viewing angle. Television sets in China are freestanding; they do not come in wood cabinets and they don't have legs. TV sets, therefore, are usually placed on top of something else, a dresser or desk for instance, and are often surrounded by knick-knacks and small decorations or household items. The area is frequently adorned

with artifacts that reflect the personality of the family and the region where they live. Families value their television sets highly and often protect them with special cloth covers.

Television simply has an omnipresent influence in Chinese homes. When the set is turned on, there is nowhere to go in most homes to avoid at least hearing it. Chinese family members are just as susceptible as anyone to the medium's magnetism — its ability to capture viewers with constantly changing visuals and sounds. These proxemics create problems. The difficulty of limited space exacerbates television's potential interference with the homework of schoolchildren, for example. Because of this problem, several families we interviewed said they alter their viewing habits to accommodate the more important objective — providing an atmosphere conducive to concentration and study.

Television can also disturb sleepers. A special situation took place during our research period when the national television network carried satellite coverage of the World Cup football games from Mexico City. Nightly action began at 3 a.m. (Chinese time) and men of all ages set alarm clocks in order to watch. This ritual frequently disturbed others at home as it woke them up. On my return to China in 1989, several students I talked to said they were irritated by their parents who turn on television very early in the morning in order to exercise along to a program, Old People's

Disco (Lao Nian Disco), a kind of Jane Fonda workout that combines slowpaced disco dance with tai chi movement. A college professor at Beijing University told me it is difficult for him to work at home in the evening because his wife and young son enjoy watching TV at that time:

Watching television

With important exceptions like the CCTV news and the children's programs, very few shows are scheduled for the same time each week. Many programs are one-time-only presentations. The irregular broadcast schedules discourage routinized viewing patterns. And, unlike the individualistic viewing styles characteristic of families in the West, watching television in China is almost always a social experience.

Children, of course, are the most animated viewers, constantly refocusing their attention from television to other attractions and back again. Consider this situation: in Beijing we observed a young mother remind her 5-year-old boy that it was time for the children's program. She checked the printed schedule in the newspaper to see what was to be featured and then turned on the set. She settled him into a viewing position by removing the mosquito netting from a bed located in front of the TV where the child was sitting. The boy was excited to begin viewing. He laughed heartily at the image of a fat foreigner on the screen. Suddenly, after just a few minutes, the boy darted to the refrigerator, took out a bottle of soda, opened it with his teeth(!), and returned to his position in front of the set. He watched for a few more minutes, then ran impulsively outside to play with his pet turtle, bird, and squirrel. After less than five minutes he ran back into the house, watched TV for a few more minutes, then ran outside again to play with friends, leaving the activated television set alone for the remainder of the show.

Some illustrative cases

In the following paragraphs, I will briefly describe some different viewing situations that represent how television is accommodated into the daily routines of a variety of China's urban residents:

The children of a Shanghai family (a l3-year-old girl and a 9-year-old boy) do their homework after school, before dinner. They watch the children's program every night after which they review and do additional homework. The parents allow them to resume viewing until 9 o'clock, providing the school work is done. Since the entire family lives in one room, the parents don't watch TV very much, 'because if we watch, the children will watch too.' The couple sometimes watches reruns of the previous night's programs the following morning in order to circumvent the dilemma.

A Guangzhou family (he is a worker in a bicycle factory and has some elementary education; she is a public food-service worker with very little education) are non-stop viewers of television. They have two children —an ll-year-old girl and an 8-year-old boy. The family lives in a friendly, highly social, but comparatively poor neighborhood. The four of them inhabit one very small room that becomes extremely hot during the summer months. To be more comfortable they move the television set outside in front of their home. They also eat their meals on a table next to the TV. The black-and-white set they have is old (1978) and small (12 inches), so they have purchased a transparent screen enlarger which they place over the front of it. The young boy plays with his friends outside in the evenings and pays attention to television only when something catches his interest.

An 81-year-old man lives with his daughter's family in a Shanghai neighborhood. He awakens every morning very early (about 4 a.m.) and goes for a walk in the park. At the park he performs tai chi exercises. He returns home to do 'home jobs' (washing his clothes, cleaning, etc.) and makes his own lunch. He takes a lengthy nap in the early afternoon, and then goes back to the park to socialize with his friends. He then goes home to make his own dinner and watch television in the early evening. He watches whatever is available, usually following the preferences of other viewers: 'It is not important to me to choose television programs.' He falls asleep early every night.

Eight people representing four generations live together in a three-room Beijing home. The old grandparents are retired farmers. Their son, a carpenter, is also retired but does 'neighborly work' now in front of his house. His wife and two adult children also live at home. Their daughter is 33 years old and unmarried. Their son is a year younger and recently married a woman who now also lives with them. This young couple has a baby girl. The family divides according to their interests in television programs. There is the 'old party' and the 'young party.' The old party (the retired grandparents and parents) like the Chinese opera. The young party likes contemporary drama and sports, although none of the women likes football. The daughter said: 'We fight over football. But we all like women's volleyball and China's team does so well. When volleyball is on television it will attract a whole room full of people. It can really cheer us up if the Chinese team wins.'

A fashionably-dressed and articulate 24-year-old Shanghai photo graphic technician lives at home with his parents, grandmother, and teen age brother. He especially likes foreign dramas and international news on television. He also uses some of the visual imagery that he sees on television to help in his photographic work. Most of his TV viewing is not done at home. He prefers to spend time at his girlfriend's home watching television or, even better, to go out to a video club, one of the latest trends in Shanghai, where current movies are displayed on a large screen. Ticket prices for video presentations are about the same as at the cinema, but the range of films is better, including many imported shows that never make it onto television. He says that 'there are not many good places to go out here. There are too many people.' He thinks that it is appropriate for people of the same age to watch television together because 'we have the same thoughts and interests.'

Fourteen young, male construction workers have come from out of town to refurbish the interior of a department store in Shanghai. They gather around a communal television set placed inside the store every night after work. There is usually no conflict over what is viewed since the group is relatively homogenous and tends to like the same programs — 'we just watch the best shows,' one said. They all sleep in the same room where they work and watch television. Young men like these do not live at home because their work assignments require them to be elsewhere. Married couples are sometimes split up too. For these people, most television viewing is done in work settings.

A mechanic at the Beijing airport lives with his co-workers in a nearby dormitory. 'We don't watch television every night because most of us go out somewhere,' leaving two or three people in front of the set. They never miss viewing football games, however, a scene he describes as 'noisy and fun. We argue a lot.' They vote when there is a conflict over viewing. The same type of situation was reported by a 22-year-old mechanic in a textile factory in Shanghai. He prefers to sleep at the factory rather than in his tiny home with his parents and brother. 'Usually there are about ten of us watching television there. It's more fun to watch TV at work — there are more people, more opinions.'

Rules for Viewing

Generally, explicit rules about television viewing in Chinese homes are for children and have more to do with the amount than the type of viewing that is done. One widespread concern of parents is that watching television hurts the eyes of young children, and for this reason the amount of viewing they are allowed to do is often limited. Some parents, teachers, and children also express concern about children wasting time by watching too much television. A highly-educated Beijing couple voices this sentiment. Accord ing to the father: 'I'm worried about the influence of TV on my son. You know, you can watch TV all day long because now, with continuous programming, you can just sit down all day ... If you lose control, that's dangerous, especially for boys and girls. If parents don't control TV, kids might spend all their spare time in front of it.'

The most common fear is that TV distracts children from their school homework. Many families indicated that rules for viewing are first articulated when the child reaches school age. The typical rule — that viewing can be done only after school homework is finished — is familiar in many parts of the world. It has a special meaning in urban China, however, because the vast majority of young families have but one child, education is highly emphasized in the culture, and the families must manage their overlapping agendas in tight living space. Viewing rules are most vigor ously enforced during school examination periods. Also, many families will not allow their school-aged children to view late at night for fear that they will be tired at school the next day.

Let us examine one family's rules for child viewing: the parents are themselves well-educated, high achievers who fear for the future of their 10-year-old daughter. They live in a one-room home in suburban Shanghai. They closely regulate television viewing because they believe TV demands too much attention from everyone and especially distracts their daughter from her homework.

The family comes home from work every day, fixes and eats dinner, and cleans up. After dinner, the man helps his daughter with her schoolwork while his wife studies. They worry a lot about their only child because, according to the father, 'the worst thing about her is that she won't use her brain. She is not self-motivated. She studies only to please us.' The child knows perfectly what the daily routine will be and the mother diligently enforces the expectations.

The parents did not permit the girl to take a singing class because it was 'not useful.' They enrolled her instead in a literary composition class and in an English conversation class. The father said: 'She can already speak a little English. This will be helpful for getting her into a good school.'

Viewing the old (1976) black-and-white television set takes place only at certain times: when there is no schoolwork to do, on the weekends, and during vacations. The television set is regarded by the parents as an obstacle in the way of a good future for the child. According to the parents, the child 'loves to watch TV.' Her parents say that conflicting interests between what should be done and what the child wants to do 'separate the heart.' It is their duty, then, to 'control the situation.' With so much emotional energy invested in the future of children in China, anxiety about their academic performance has led to forms of extreme control in some cases, such as that portrayed above, with regulation of television viewing becoming a central part of the phenomenon. In this situation, such regulation becomes evidence of parental, and cultural, competence.

Many parents and students, however, believe that control over TV viewing should be imposed by the child himself or herself, especially those of secondary school age. As an l8-year-old Beijing student said, for example, 'TV does not affect the achievement level of high school students. It's just not possible... kids should control themselves at the higher levels of school especially.' This boy, and several others, claim that students who don't achieve simply don't work hard enough. Many high school students we talked to sincerely emphasized the importance of taking individual responsibility for giving TV viewing a low priority.

Limitations on control

Because television is such a central source of information and entertain ment, it is difficult to deny its use to anyone. To ask someone not to view an activated set means that the person must try to find a quiet spot in the home, something that is not easy to do. A Shanghai mother, for instance, claims that she always sends her son out of the main room so that he can't watch TV during examination time. 'But it doesn't work,' she said. 'He always sticks his head around the door' (the family has partitioned its one room with movable flats). Spatial factors influence all aspects of television viewing in China, including parents' attempts to control their children.

Many families say that the interest children have in certain programs is the strongest determinant of their viewing patterns. A Beijing father, for example, said that he has no rules about television for his two school-aged boys: 'If kids have some kind of interest, you cannot stop that interest... I suggest no TV during homework time, but there is no absolute rule.' Another Beijing father said, 'During examination time there are some limitations, but during vacation they can watch as much as they want. It's their interest. What can I do?' Time constraints on parents also limit their ability to supervise children's television viewing. Some parents said that their family situations (e.g. long work hours; irregular work hours; a missing parent) preclude adequate control.

Program content rules

Very few parents disallow viewing of certain kinds of TV programs or particular shows, a fact that is best explained by the type of programming China has. Television programs are rarely thought to be a bad influence because of content. In fact, just the opposite is true. Many families encourage, nearly require, their children to watch certain programs. The more ambitious families, of course, are especially likely to call attention to pro grams they believe will benefit the children. One family referred to these programs as 'necessary' for children and several families said that selective viewing is part of a good education now in China.

Potential Conflict at Home: Choosing Television Programs

Each family we interviewed was asked how it selects television programs, especially when everyone wants to watch something. The question often brought interesting responses, typically accompanied by laughter and little stories. Families handle it in their own ways. Some claim that disputes over viewing are rare, while others say they are common.

Each urban center in China has a kind of TV Guide that is published by the local or regional television station. Daily newspapers also carry program listings, although people frequently complain that the listings are incorrect, a troubling condition generally believed to be the fault of the stations. Radio stations also announce the daily line-up of television programs. Viewers depend greatly on these media to find out what's on television. This constant seeking of information helps shape the overall experience that Chinese viewers have with television since, with few exceptions, they don't know what programs to expect at any given time. Consequently, most viewing is very selective.

Many times family members have the same interests, explainable in part by the presence of little attractive programming. Certain programs receive special consideration. These can be regular programs that are automatically viewed because of their excellence or popularity, irregularly scheduled shows that demand attention because they aren't on the air very often, or programs that have compelling educational or instrumental value. The program that most of the country was watching during our data-gathering period in 1986 was the Japanese soap opera, Oshin, a drama series of great importance which I will discuss at length in Chapter 8. There simply was no debate in most homes over what would be watched the two nights each week that Oshin was aired. Though the program appealed primarily to females, the question of whether or not it would be viewed every week was 'beyond argument,' according to a male viewer in Beijing who himself was no fan of the show.

The frequent consensus about programs to be viewed results not only from a lack of choices in a low-abundance TV environment, it also reflects a cultural tendency toward interpersonal yielding without conflict for the common good. Many families, for instance, cannot explain how they settle disputes, only that they characteristically give in to the desire of the group. To sacrifice a preference is a concrete way to demonstrate concern for others at home. Emotional outbursts, unreasonable demands, or purely selfish interests of any kind are generally unacceptable in Chinese culture, although the lingering resentment of the Cultural Revolution and the competitiveness promoted by economic reform have, in fact, fostered individualist tendencies in recent years. Conflict over television is also less likely to occur in situations where there are fewer people or where viewers are the same age. Old couples, for instance, usually have similar interests and few debates about what to watch.

Family position

Families are divided in their opinions about who among them generally selects television programs. Many family members say they defer to the wishes of older members of the household, though this was more often the case in the traditional northern cities than in the south. At times parents invoke family position as a justification for viewing, like a 56-year-old Shanghai father who said, 'When I'm home, I have priority. When I'm not home, my wife has control.'

Such assertions are rare, however. A fundamental conclusion I have drawn from the interviews is that the stereotypical notion of the male-dominated Chinese household does not characterize Chinese families' negotiations over television. While an underlying theme of parental respect was apparent in the discussions we had with families about this issue, certainly most fathers do not claim to be, and are not typically regarded by others to be, 'rulers' of the television set, a condition that differs greatly from the male dominance of nighttime and weekend TV viewing in Western cultures (Morley, 1986; Lull, 1982, 1988). Furthermore, the remote control device, which has become a symbol of male domination of television viewing in the West (Morley, 1986), is not a factor in China. In even fewer cases, however, is the mother identified as the controller of television viewing, except for the supervision of young children.

There is more agreement that children exercise great influence in choosing television programs (aside from the older ones' responsibility to do homework on school nights). Many parents say that the lives of children in urban China today differ markec;lly from the past and that the privileges children have with television simply reflect modern times. No doubt, children have a freer and more varied life than their parents had. A Shanghai father with three children, for instance, said: 'We don't hold the feudalist attitude anymore. We let the children enjoy themselves.' In some families, children routinely and unquestioningly control what is viewed at home. In many cases their control seems implicit; no actual decision had been made to grant them such influence. The grandfather of a 5-year-old boy in Beijing said: 'Everybody has to take cary of him now ... to spoil him.' A Shanghai couple said that they nearly always allow their children to choose television programs: 'We take care of them this way.' Most families agree that children 'always' or 'usually' win when preferences are in conflict.

Why do children have disproportionate influence in the choosing of programs? The answer is partly provided above. Chinese families focus a great deal of attention on their children, especially now that the one-child policy has had such a profound impact. 'Spoiling' a child is a positive act. Giving children the 'right' to watch what they want is an extension of this special consideration. Children also often have the most interest in television and are, therefore, motivated to turn on the set, monitor the offerings of the various channels (often without reference to the published program listings), and change the channel to suit their interests.

Of course, children do not always choose the programs. A particularly important consideration in Chinese homes involves in-laws. Some delicate situations arise when a young married couple lives with the parents of one spouse (almost always of the husband). The desires of the older couple, including their television program preferences, are almost invariably respected by the younger couple, and especially by the 'outsider' (normally the daughter-in-law). Troubled relationships between mothers and their daughters-in-law in China are common. Since young couples often have absolutely no choice but to live in very close proximity with the parents of the husband, daughters-in-law are normally very careful to maintain a harmonious relationship. Supporting the parents' TV viewing choices is one way to do this.

There are other family problems with television. Consider this case: a 33-year-old unmarried woman lives at home with her grandparents, parents, brother, his wife, and their year-old baby. She fears that because she has 'passed the marrying stage' and still lives at home, others in the house don't like her. She says that because of her 'unfortunate' situation, she cannot inconvenience her brother and his wife. According to her it is bad enough that she still lives in the house at alL She sleeps in the front room and claims that 'if I were married [and living elsewhere], they could take away my bed and change the whole room into a living room.' She feels very uncomfortable about this and privately told us that she cannot argue strongly for viewing her favorite shows as it could irritate her brother and his wife.

Avoiding the problem of program conflict

Every society deals with the problem of television program conflicts. The most feasible solution, at least in the more economically-advanced countries, is to have more than one TV set at home. In China only a small percentage of homes has more than one receiver. But when viewing conflicts arise, it is often still possible to go unannounced to someone else's home to watch a program. Disagreements, therefore, are often tempered by the fact that the extended family often lives nearby, even next door. Some arrangement can usually be made for one set to be tuned to one channel, and the other set to another channel, with fans of each show choosing their venues accordingly. Since there are typically only three or four channels in any city, chances are good that someone nearby will be watching the program that is not selected at home. This solution is not limited to family visits. A 25-year-old textile worker in Xian, for instance, told us that 'when something like this happens we just talk with the neighbors to find out who wants to watch what, then we go our separate ways. We just blend in with another family.'

The Politics of Everyday Life

In China, nearly everything hinges on government policy. Supervision of family life in such an enormous nation is a management venture of unparalleled proportions. Despite the deep intervention of government into the family, home is still a haven for Chinese people and television viewing is one of few unmonitored activities. Ironically, government policy and national development have contributed, along with television, to the privatization of family life and detachment from the official culture. Family involvement with television came to the cities at the time of the one-child policy and when families started to move into large, impersonal apartment complexes. Furthermore, everyday life in urban China requires negotiating virtually all activity amidst many other people who are trying to do the same thing. Although viewers complain that there are few TV programs that really attract them, television viewing is often much more appealing than re-entering the stressful public space at the end of the day.

The speed of telecommunications media stands in ironic contrast to the historically slow and steady pace of life in China. Chinese citizens have a firm idea of what it means to be Chinese, a kind of lasting self-stereotyping that embodies a wide range of cultural qualities and traditions that persist in spite of technological and political developments and disruptions. The entry of television into the home — where it affects everyone in many ways — has become an important family issue that confronts a basic way of life that has endured for centuries. Everyone's needs and interests must be considered. Sorting through these priorities is family work, influenced by traditional cultural expectations in interpersonal relations and by the realities of the domestic environment.

Some cultural traditions such as sacrifice and yielding, restraint and control, and the emotional and pragmatic interdependence of family members remain fundamentally unchanged, perhaps even reinforced, by the choosing and viewing of TV shows. But there are some subtle changes in orientations toward gender and generation in Chinese families that are melting away partly because of TV. Leisure time for urban families increased at the same time that television became available, problematizing expectations around gender-specific family roles that were based on the domestic division of labor during a far more arduous period in China's history. While men still do 'men's work,' and women do 'women's work' around the home, conside'rations other than family position determine what TV programs are selected and the styles of viewing that ensue. Men don't exercise absolute authority over these matters. Families also often divide up along generational lines in what they watch and especially in how they construct cultural and political interpretations of TV program content (a topic I take up in detail in Chapter 8). These developments all point to the conclusion that in the process of television being accommodated into the routines of everyday life, it influences gender and generational relations by gradually smoothing out and democratizing these pivotal axes of dom estic culture.²

Despite the changes, the family remains the centerpiece of Chinese culture, its collective way of life seemingly well suited to the socialist system. As Ju and Chu (1989) have pointed out, however, the family continues to function well while the larger collective enterprises, those of national economics and politics, have 'failed the people' and have fallen into violent disarray. The family, including its newest member, television, buffers the sometimes harsh reality of everyday life. But TV not only provides family entertainment or a way to escape reality; it is a rich resource for the construction of an alternative reality and a new political consciousness. The deep dissatisfaction and distrust that so many urban people have for the political system, as well as the confusion and competition that is promoted within economic reform, have intensified the intimacy and importance of China's 'natural' collective and its natural TV viewing group — the family.