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Archive for July, 2024

There was a woman in Penfold Park the other day wearing a tee-shirt displaying the words “Another fucking Olympic games”. We must bear in mind, of course, that she may not have read it carefully before buying it, of if she did, did not understand the message or recognise the F-word.

Still, this is not a unique sentiment. It is a feature of the great international sportfests that the number of people who travel to the site of the event in the hope of watching the proceedings is more or less matched by the number of people who take a holiday from their homes to avoid the visiting crowds.

It would perhaps not be fair to apply this crudely to the current Olympics in Paris, because Paris notoriously empties itself of locals on July 14 (when the school term finishes) and is generally inhabited only by people who cater for visitors until sometime around the end of August.

Still, it must be recognised that the Olympics are something which people can have enough of. My dim memories of media coverage go back to the Melbourne summer games in 1956. Looking at the list I do not seem to have registered the winter versions at all.

There is a certain rhythm to these things. When the host city is chosen there is a whiff of scandal. Then there are the first of the pained noises about the budget which will continue until well after the games, because the bid budget always turns out to have been imaginative when it hits reality.

In the run-up to the great event there are some cliff-hanging stories around the possibility that some vital piece of infrastructure will not be ready in time. Then there are arguments in most countries about selection. Hong Kong’s version of these used to concern some athlete who was eligible but did not – um – look Chinese and was not selected. We seem to have outgrown this particular problem. There continues, on the other hand, to be subdued muttering about the number of Hong Kong Olympians who moved to the SAR after narrowly missing inclusion in the China team.

During the games there will be the usual dust-ups about refereeing, cheating, tactless winners and tactless losers, surreptitious efforts to help the home team, and so on. These will be off-set by magical moments of sportsmanship and joy. On the whole most of the media people and all of the officials will conclude that the games were a success, whatever that means, except for Munich 1972, marred by a massacre.

The host city will then be left to pick up the bill, which can be enormous – Montreal (1976) took decades to pay off its Olympic debts. Los Angeles (1984) seems to have been unique in actually showing a profit. There is also the question whether all the facilities specially built will, as the boosters predict, be useful afterwards. Here also outcomes vary. London (2012) seems to have found a use for all its Olympic erections; Athens (2004) still has weed-infested sports sites which were never used again.

Social scientists have determined that the economic benefits of hosting the games are overstated and probably non-existent, while they do give a lot of harmless pleasure to the population of the host city while they last. This is a difficult attraction to sell politically and bids to host have become sparse.

The current games, I notice, have already produced two rows of a kind to which we were not treated in the 20th century. The first concerns woman boxers who used to be men.

This did not come up in the old days, partly no doubt because there were no woman boxers. I recall some carefully phrased expressions of suspicion about well-built Russian women in the throwing events. The two boxers at the centre of the current row were excluded from the last Olympics. But the organising body for Olympic boxing was changed after a refereeing scandal and the new one revised the rules.

I confess to being non-plussed by the moral issues involved. It is an important moral principle that all people should be treated the same, and if they wish to be women they should be allowed to be women. On the other hand it is also an important principle that athletic contestants should be fairly matched, and in some sports, including boxing, being a man for the first 15 or 20 years of your life apparently confers a big advantage.

My Solomonic solution would be to ban boxing altogether as being a depraved pursuit unfit for decent human beings, who ought to be repelled by the idea of beating someone else unconscious. But that is not going to happen.

The other very 21st century contribution is the row over the Dutch volley ball player – unashamedly male – who was convicted some years ago, when he was 19, of having sex with a 12-year-old girl.

In England, where he did it – they met on-line, of course – this is treated as rape, and he was accordingly sentenced to several years in jail. After some months, though, he was returned to Holland, where consensual sex with under-age partners is, though still illegal, regarded less seriously. So he was released soon after.

The question which then arose from several directions was whether it was acceptable for such a person to be in an Olympic team. The Dutch view is that the man concerned has expressed remorse, served his time, recognised the error of his ways and is entitled to be treated like any other citizen who is good at volleyball.

The contrary view is that the man is a paedophile and should be shunned athletically, presumably for the rest of his life, as an inappropriate role model for young people who may regard Olympians as examples of behaviour to be emulated. Objectors also claim that having him on the court, pitch or whatever is upsetting for victims of sex crimes generally and his victim in particular

I confess to finding it easier to find a side to agree with in this one. Criminals who have done their time and expressed a decent level of reform and regret are entitled to be treated as ordinary members of society. If we are to bar convicted sex offenders from the Olympics what happens when some team turns out to include a bank robber, a mugger, a retired member of Islamic State or a fencer who honed his sword skills by beheading adulterous women in Saudi Arabia?

Note that the latter competitor will not have been jailed. A global sporting festival will include people from a variety of different backgrounds and legal regimes. Attitudes to sex are particularly fraught with geographical variations. The idea that some sex offenders should be treated to life-time ostracism is a Western thing.

As for the argument that this is all unfair to victims, I discern a whiff of hypocrisy. The fact is that there is a fairly small following for three-a-side volleyball, and the Dutch team is not particularly prominent. The player concerned has been in the international side since 2017. Nobody would have noticed his inclusion if nobody had made a fuss about it.

Update: There is an error in this piece. I supposed, and wrote, that the two boxers in a row over their hormone levels were people who had been born as males and transitioned to female. This is not the case. Both the women concerned were recognised and registered as female at birth and have gone through the rest of their lives as women. Their elevated testosterone levels are a result of a rare medical condition. The dilemma remains the same: does the effect of this produce so much unfairness, or danger, that the two athletes should be barred from competition? But opinions about the merits or otherwise of gender transition are nothing to do with it. Thoughtful piece in the Guardian here.

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The Consumer Council is a curious creature. It is, according to its ordinance, not a part of the government. It is, though, according to the same ordinance, required to follow any written instruction from the Chief Executive. And it is, of course, governed, so far as the actual council governs anything, by government appointees.

This is not usually relevant to the council’s work, which is to help consumers with individual complaints and publish reports on topics relevant to consumption. The reports are a reliable source of news, though sometimes seem to be trying rather too hard.

Some of the “safety hazards” of which the council warns us are rather remote. A recent survey of bottled drinking water, for example, worried about bromates, chemicals often found in water which has been chemically purified.

Bromates pose a cancer risk. On the other hand if you drink a daily two quarts (or half a gallon) of bottled water at the upper end of the range allowed by food regulations, your lifetime cancer risk goes up by about two in 10,000 (according to the New York State Health Department).

Other risks which agitate the council are rather obvious. A report on beer, for example, warned that consuming large quantities regularly will make you grow fatter. This will not have come as a great shock to the beer-drinking community.

And so to last week, when the Council departed from its usual confident, if nit-picking, tone to engage in a full-court grovel before a mainland company which had complained about a report on bottled water.

The company, Nongfu Spring, is rumoured to be owned by China’s richest man. In view of the hazards attached to being China’s richest man this is probably a malicious report circulated by his enemies. Still, it is a big company, so we may suppose it to be well-connected.

The council had reported that a sample of Nongfu’s mineral water had a bromate content of 3 micrograms per litre, which coincides with the upper limit in the European Union standard for some water products.

It also made some mildly critical comments on the taste and mineral content, and gave the sample four and a half stars (out of five). Clearly this upset Nongfu, but if you want to dispute and downgrade a report you keep off the subjective stuff and go for the science.

In a strongly worded letter the company complained that the EU standard was inappropriate, and the sample tested was not, as the council had supposed, “natural mineral water” nor “purified drinking water”.

Instead it was in a category recognised by mainland food regulations, “natural drinking water” and met the standards required on the mainland for this category. If not offered a correction and apology the company would take “further action”.

It also complained that it was inappropriate to use food standards from outside Hong Kong, and as the water was produced on the mainland, mainland standards should apply.

Following a meeting the council, usually a robust defender of its conclusions, collapsed in a heap, apologising, reclassifying Nongfu’s masterpiece as five stars, and stressing that all the samples it tested were prefectly safe to drink, as indeed it had stated in its original report.

This is disappointing. Firstly it is important and useful that the Consumer Council should be able to consult and use a wide range of standards from outside Hong Kong. There are many matters for which there is no local standard. Also the phrase “mainland food safety standards” produces a little mental crashing of gears, the kind you get from concepts like “truthful Donald Trump”, “Swiss seamanship” or “Hong Kong’s beloved government”. We can do better.

Secondly, water is water. Nongfu Spring’s business model involves fostering confusion on this point. The company’s website offers Drinking Natural Water, Drinking Purified Water, Natural Jokul Mineral Water, Drinking Natural Water (Suitable for children and nursing mothers), Natural Mineral Water (containing lithium), Drinking Natural Spring Water (suitable for tea making), and Natural Mineral Water in three different kinds of bottle (sports caps, glass and zodiac).

Oddly enough there is no product called “natural drinking water” and people who hawk products called “mineral water” should not be surprised if mineral water standards are applied to them. How can we expect the Consumer Council to stand up for consumers if it is too timid to stand up for itself?

Also an unexpected contender for the traditional white feather this week was the Wall Street Journal, which summarily fired a reporter, Selina Cheng, for accepting the post of chairman of the local Journalists’ Association. Ms Cheng said she had been warned against “advocating for press freedom in a place like Hong Kong.”

Is this the real Wall Street Journal, proprietor R. Murdoch, home in New York, safely headquartered in the home of the brave, land of the free? Alas, so it is. Indeed some people have suggested that the WSJ already has one reporter languishing in a communist jail and is reluctant to risk having another in the same plight. Ms Cheng would not, if such a thing came to pass, be the first JA chairperson to see the inside of a prison.

I know US newspapers have a thing about reporters displaying political preferences. But even the WSJ apparently regards advocating for press freedom as acceptable, in places where there is press freedom – an oddly self-defeating condition. Also Mr Murdoch is famously hostile to unions of any kind.

Still. Ms Cheng’s union activities were not likely to clash with her professional work covering the car and energy industries in China. And the WSJ will soon be free from worries about hostility in Hong Kong because it is moving to Singapore.

In response to inquiries the WSJ borrowed a famous line from embattled government departments and refused to discuss individual cases. It also said it was “a fierce and vocal advocate for press freedom in Hong Kong and around the world.” Bullshit. Had chance. Blew it.

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Let us now praise legislator Judy Chan (New People’s Party; Electoral Committee constituency) for what appears to be an effort to make sense of the government’s policy on food served in the street or, as the official phraseology has it, “fixed-pitch and itinerant hawker stalls selling food with local characteristics.”

In this laudable pursuit Ms Chan put down a written question. Indeed she did not just put down a question, she composed a mega-question. Short story writers have managed with fewer words. After a little warm-up paragraph the question consists of ten sub-questions, some of them with multiple prongs and alternatives: is the government doing X and if so how many times in the last three years and if not why not?

This literary brick dropped into the lap of the Secretary for Environment and Ecology (cool new job title, if I may say so) Tse Chin-wan, a recycled environmental civil servant. Mr Tse’s equally lengthy reply exemplifies the rule in these matters: the longer the question the less you learn from the reply.

The problem here is that one of Hong Kong’s traditional attractions is the street restaurant, or dai pai dong, which offers tourists the alluring prospect of a local meal in the open air. Years ago you found them all over the place. Luard Road, Wanchai, for example, a much wider road than the traffic required then as it still is, was reduced to two lanes by a row of stalls on each side.

Over the years they have gradually disappeared. This does not appear to be the result of lack of custom. Most observers diagnose a classic case of official hostility. The official line, as articulated by Mr Tse, is that if there are any “suitable proposals which are supported by the relevant District Councils, the Food and Environmental Hygiene Department (FEHD) will give consideration with an open mind.” He did warn that it is “very challenging to identify suitable sites.”

Many people who used to sell food in the street have been relocated to “cooked food centres” in municipal buildings. They are usually upstairs from the wet market (diners with delicate stomachs should avoid walking past the butchery horror show) and feature wet tiled floors, bare concrete walls and a lot of fans because there is no air conditioning.

In my experience the food in these places is OK but the ambience is not. The toilets often leave a lot to be desired too, though I must add in fairness that the facility in the Kennedy Town market is fragrant, floral and wins prizes.

A long time ago I joined a small group who met regularly on Friday nights at a place in Fotan which is probably not, in official terminology, a dai pai dong because it has a real kitchen with mains water and electricity. It gave you the flavour of the experience, though, because the tables extended gradually through the evening onto the territory of the adjacent bus station, so you would eat, weather permitting, sitting in an unused minibus stop.

This was a pleasant arrangement and gradually caught on with our friends, so that on some Fridays the group required two 16-people tables, to the great delight of the lady in charge of promoting the sale of Yan Jing beer. This is the state beer of China, though, in the opinion of many experts, not as good as Tsing Tao.

There was, though, constant trouble with the FEHD. A uniformed squad would arrive and terrify the operator of the establishment with threats of huge fines if a table wandered outside the area officially designated for dining. Their van would sit nearby, occupied by a driver who was sometimes spotted doing unmentionable things with his nose.

At knocking-off itme, which I think was eight o’clock, the uniforms would get in the van and go home. People who arrived earlier would often stand around waiting for the hour of liberation and amusing themselves by developing new insults for the FEHD, or Food Gestapo as we called them.

This was apparently standard procedure in many parts of Hong Kong. Many government departments have little foibles which do not really make sense. The Transport Department will not entertain speed bumps. The Police Force, though it has long abandoned the system under which retiring sergeants were expected to own large parts of Toronto, still has a thing about the ICAC, and so it goes on.

The FEHD is, for some reason, peculiarly hostile to dining in the open air. There are, of course, some potential problems with street food hawkers, involving things like noise, hygiene and rubbish, but this does not explain the department’s visceral hostility to people eating in the open air, even if the food is coming from a pefectly respectable restaurant and the space is not being used for anything else.

As a result Hong Kong has always been a problem area for open air dining, unless you get away to somewhere rural or an outlying island. And dai pai dong are an endangered species. There are only 17 left.

As tends to happen with endangered species they are now being eagerly touted to foreigners as an attraction. “Eating at a dai pai dong is a must-try Hong Kong experience and you can’t call yourself a real foodie if you haven’t dined at one,” chirps the Tourism Board on its social media.

Two of the Cooked Food Hawker Bazaars where the board suggests you can enjoy this experience are officially described as “temporary”. Don’t say you weren’t warned.

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One of the strange things about the much-cited rule of law in Hong Kong is the way it swiftly dissipates as you move north from the Lion Rock Tunnel.

The New Territories is famous for its exceptions. The Small House Policy (under which male villagers can build a house, supposedly for their own use) is a racket. It has been a notorious racket for 50 years and has the additional drawback of being grossly discriminatory against women. It continues.

The construction of illegal additions to small houses is another flourishing area. Occasionally terrible threats are issued but somehow nothing comes of them and most rural villages, viewed from the air, offer a rich variety of unauthorised fourth floors.

Most people in Hong Kong are not allowed to celebrate the New Year with their own fireworks. Villagers are not covered by this. When I lived in a rural village I recall sitting on my balcony looking down the valley and seeing occasional bursts of firecrackers, followed by plumes of smoke drifting across the landscape. It was like living in Beirut.

I also noticed a suspiciously transient dog population. Eating dogs is not allowed in Hong Kong. Where were all these large black dogs going? I got on very well with my neighbours, by contributing to the village welfare fund and not asking tactless questions.

Anyway with this background in mind I was not horrified or disgusted by the latest legal triumph, the use of applications to use agricultural land for boarding kennels, as a way to cover it in concrete, with a later switch to something more lucrative and industrial.

This was discovered by a careful piece of freelance research by Liber Research Community. HKFP report here.

Reporting on issues of this kind is a delicate matter. One wishes to show readers an actual specimen of the abuse in progress. But this is fraught with danger. One may well suspect that Farmer Wong was not being frank when he applied to build a refuge for homeless dogs on one of his fields. Proving that his application was bogus is another matter even if, two years later, the field is covered with the remains of dead cars. Maybe the homeless hounds were not as numerous as Mr Wong thought.

On the other hand, looking at the overall figures it is depressingly clear what is going on. The researchers looked at 60 sites which had been approved for boarding kennels, of which 19 appeared to be accommodating dogs, 31 were not and ten remain a mystery.

They had no difficulty in finding sites which had completed the process from approval for animal boarding use to approved industrial use. What boggles the mind is the apparent failure of the officials involved to see what was going on.

Consider: between 2015 and 2017 the annual total of applications for planning permission to run animal boarding establishments was seven. Between 2018 and 2020 it averaged 16. The average for 2021-3 was 35. That means that in the last three years more than 100 applications have been filed to run animal boarding places in the New Territories.

Spokespeople for the Town Planning Board say that there is nothing wrong with people moving on from animal boarding to other uses provided they have the proper permission, and offered to inspect relevant sites.

But you have to ask yourself what these people were thinking. Is the market for dog hotels booming on a scale to justify doubling capacity every three years? Or have rural residents acquired a sudden sensitivity to the needs of strays?

The SPCA estimates that Hong Kong has a dog population of some 200,000, which clearly entails some exciting business opportunities. But a study of owner spending on pets found no detectable figure for boarding or hotel costs. Clearly most owners manage to cover holidays by leaving their pets with friends, family members or the domestic helper.

Moreover many boarding kennels operate quite happily in ordinary industrial or commercial buildings in the urban area. Only the owners of large dogs (like mine) need to worry about whether their canine friend will have access to open space.

I do not suggest that the New Territories are a criminals’ paradise. Nor do I wish to encourage paranoia. But a sudden surge in the popularity of a rather exotic land use application should surely have raised a red flag? Would it perhaps help if the protection of the rural environment attracted a small fraction of the law enforcement zeal devoted to the activities of subversive buskers, or the wearers of political tee-shirts.

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