Why is China such fertile ground for young, ambitious Brits?

Young British people are choosing to emigrate to China, armed with strategies for chasing success. Why?

William Vanbergen came to China at the age of 21, just after he finished his university studies. He came with the intention of creating something: a business. He had saved £6,000 selling double-glazed windows back in England, and using that he started a little company in Guangzhou, China’s southern metropolis.  

Ten years later, Vanbergen’s company, which helps Chinese children apply to Britain’s elite schools, has offices spread across China as well as its own schools, the latest of which saw a $100m investment. The entrepreneur has been witness to China’s economic phenomenon and the resultant growth of China’s middle class. “I’ve seen a 25 to 30 per cent increase year-on-year in demand for overseas education”, he reports.  

And he’s seen a rise in expats in his adopted home of Shanghai, in young plucky Brits who’ve made the journey to the East, to pursue careers and entrepreneurial ambitions. “You feel the buzz here, there’s an energy in the air. England is dreary and slow, and you need a lot of money [to start a business]. Everything’s been done. But where there’s change, there’s opportunity”. 

Many have made their way to the Oriental giant over the years. But whereas those foreigners who achieved fame and fortune in China before sometimes stumbled into success, either by accident or serendipity, the intentions of those who come now seem qualitatively different. They chase success, with deliberate strategies.  

Take Jamie Bilbow, for instance. The 25-year-old is a TV chef in China, after using smart marketing, "buzz"-generating tactics. I wrote about his story in the Independent. Such tactics included entering a televised Mandarin speech competition, and using a three-wheel bike to sell falafels to the Chinese public. The latter was a deliberate ploy, as the sight of the Brit calling out for custom in the traditional Chinese manner drew large crowds and national media.  

Or Paul Afshar, who came to Beijing in his mid-twenties in 2011, started a business and has now sold the business in the past month, in two brisk years. His company specialised in selling air pollution protection products, a massive growth area in the smog-plagued capital.  

There are countless examples, with more still coming to study Chinese or to take up internships. Alastair Douglas set up Tic Two, a company that provides internships in China. The 26-year-old Scot (another entrepreneur) says demand has come from both sides, as Chinese companies are hungry for more international staff, and students from western countries increasingly value knowledge of Chinese language, culture and business practises. 

With a tough jobs market for young people and the general misery of austerity, Britain in the past few years has felt like one long, collective sigh. But those who journey to the East can find themselves leapfrogging a few rungs on the career ladder, fast-tracked into positions simply unavailable back home.  

"It took me a few months of networking and an unpaid internship at City Weekend before I landed myself the Managing Editor role at Talk, the oldest expat magazine in China”, says Nyima Pratten, a 25-year-old with an interest in media, and a graduate in Management and Chinese. She feels Shanghai has more of an entrepreneurial spirit than Beijing (the two rival cities have vocal and loyal supporters) and that you have to do a certain level of hustling to get jobs, which may not be advertised. “People are very driven here and individuals are able to network and forge relationships with high level industry players in many social situations”, she explains. 

UK and Chinese business relations saw a boost recently with the much-publicised visit by George Osborne and Boris Johnson. Announcing new visa regulations for Chinese visitors, and helping to secure investment for Britain’s nuclear industry and Manchester airport among others, the two were jovial, light-hearted and pandering to their Chinese audience. Some saw it as kowtowing and obsequious but their visit seemed to signal an increased, if a little eager, determination to encourage Chinese-British trade.  

Does it herald a British "pivot" towards the East and especially China? America, South-east Asia and Australia now increasingly shape their economic, foreign and military policies in China’s direction. Time will tell exactly how Britain will deal with the ambitious outbound expansion of China’s corporations and what influence we might see domestically from the Brits in China who eventually ping back home. 

Just in case you may think setting up in China is all-too easy and the streets are paved with gold, fair warning. “The first 10 per cent of establishing a business in China is the hardest”, says Chris Dobbing, a 24-year-old entrepreneur based in Beijing. “Registering a business in the UK takes maybe 10 minutes to do online, but it can take months in China”. Chinese business practises can also be ruthless: where there’s opportunity, there is also rapid copy-catting, suppliers who will think nothing of upping costs if they smell a client’s success and unscrupulous business partners.    

But the rewards are manifest. “Forget the BRICS”, says Dobbing. “It’s all China. In the last few years, China’s basically added an India to its economy. But we need much greater engagement. Right now in the entire UK parliament, there’s only one person who speaks Mandarin”.   

British companies have taken notice. The British Chamber of Commerce in Beijing has seen a 120% uptake in applications since 2011 for their initiative which helps British companies to establish themselves in China. The number of visitors and residents to Beijing and Shanghai has seen significant increases in the past few years. Exports have recorded a 16% growth from 2012 for the first six months of this year.  

Do you care about any of this? Does any of this genuinely matter to you? Of course China is geopolitically and economically vastly important, but how can China help you, right now, sitting there reading this article? Well, it will help if you think of "China" as an idea.  

But first, what’s the value of this story of entrepreneurs in a far-flung locale? It was Rolf Potts, the travel writer, who noted that expats' experiences often don't filter back home because some expats never return, or if they do, don’t tell their stories.   

But in this global age, with abundant publishing platforms and the ease of communication, it is important that overseas Britons not only lead the way, but their stories are told in order to better understand how markets and societies evolve.  

Websites like qz.com, catering to internationally savvy business people, and primarily designed for mobile and tablet users, have refocused their reporting on "phenomena" rather than traditional "beats". 

What this means in practise are readable, angular stories exploring how, for example, the health-conscious taste for coconut water  is outpacing palm plantations' supply in south-east Asia. And what "Japanese maple trees tells us about the US economy". It suggests that people want to know how trends connect and how individuals' habits have effects across borders.     

Those young entrepreneurs now achieving their goals with the stimulating aid of a new emerging market might indicate a small but growing trend whereby migrants from Britain, America and European nations grows from a trickle into a stream, all flowing to emerging economies. Appetites for their 'exotic' stories and international phenomena can only grow if increasingly people decide to move.  

And what is there to learn from China, as an enterprising idea? In China, and much of Asia, there is a culture and speciality of small business. There are grandmothers who sell yoghurt out of ice boxes on the side of roads, students who turn their dorms into warehouses selling products on Taobao (China's ebay), and rural migrants who set up stalls, or if they are families, restaurants in the big cities. It makes the idea of starting a business much more humble and homely than the den of dragon's sorcery with which Britons associate it. 

And perhaps those Brits who journey over start noticing the pluck of those rural migrants, or more likely, they hear about the successes of others and want a piece of the action. For those of a more romantic bent, an element of manifest destiny, a small part that has enveloped the idea of adventure must take root - "Go east, young man. Go east and seek thy fortune".

 

Boris Johnson on a recent visit to China. Photo: Getty
Show Hide image

France’s burkini ban could not come at a worse time

Yet more legislation against veiled women can only further divide an already divided nation.

Since mayor of Cannes David Lisnard banned the full-body burkini from his town’s beaches, as many as 15 French resorts have followed suit. Arguments defending the bans fall into three main categories. First, it is about defending the French state’s secularism (laïcité). Second, that the costume represents a misogynistic doctrine that sees female bodies as shameful. And finally, that the burkini is cited as a threat to public order.

None of these arguments satisfactorily refute the claims of civil rights activists that the bans are fundamentally Islamophobic.

The niceties of laïcité

The Cannes decree explicitly invokes secular values. It prohibits anyone “not dressed in a fashion respectful of laïcité” from accessing public beaches. However, the French state has only banned “ostentatious” religious symbols in schools and for government employees as part of laïcité (the strict separation between the state and religious society). And in public spaces, laïcité claims to respect religious plurality. Indeed, the Laïcité Commission has tweeted that the ban, therefore, “cannot be based upon the principle of laïcité”.

While veils covering the entire face such as the burqa or niqab are illegal, this is not to protect laïcité; it is a security matter. The legal justification is that these clothes make it impossible to identify the person underneath – which is not the case for the burkini.

 

By falling back on laïcité to police Muslim women in this way, the Cannes authorities are fuelling the argument that “fundamentalist secularism” has become a means of excluding Muslims from French society.

Colonial attitudes

Others, such as Laurence Rossignol, the minister for women’s rights, hold that the burkini represents a “profoundly archaic view of a woman’s place in society”, disregarding Muslim women who claim to wear their burkini voluntarily.

This typifies an enduring colonial attitude among many non-Muslim French politicians, who feel entitled to dictate to Muslim women what is in their best interests. Rossignol has in the past compared women who wear headscarves through choice to American “negroes” who supported slavery.

Far from supporting women’s rights, banning the burkini will only leave the women who wear it feeling persecuted. Even those with no choice in the matter are not helped by the ban. This legal measure does nothing to challenge patriarchal authority over female bodies in the home. Instead, it further restricts the lives of veiled women by replacing it with state authority in public.

Open Islamophobia

Supporters of the ban have also claimed that, with racial tensions high after recent terrorist attacks, it is provocative to wear this form of Muslim clothing. Such an argument was made by Pierre-Ange Vivoni, mayor of Sisco in Corsica, when he banned the burkini in his commune. Early reports suggested a violent clash between local residents and non-locals of Moroccan origin was triggered when strangers photographed a burkini-wearing woman in the latter group, which angered her male companions. Vivoni claimed that banning the costume protected the security of local people, including those of North African descent.

Those reports have transpired to be false: none of the women in question were even wearing a burkini at the time of the incident. Nonetheless, the ban has stood in Sisco and elsewhere.

To be “provoked” by the burkini is to be provoked by the visibility of Muslims. Banning it on this basis punishes Muslim women for other people’s prejudice. It also disregards the burkini’s potential to promote social cohesion by giving veiled women access to the same spaces as their non-Muslim compatriots.

Appeals to public order have, occasionally, been openly Islamophobic. Thierry Migoule, head of municipal services in Cannes, claimed that the burkini “refers to an allegiance to terrorist movements”, conveniently ignoring the Muslim victims of recent attacks. Barely a month after Muslims paying their respects to friends and family killed in Nice were racially abused, such comments are both distasteful and irresponsible.

Increased divisions

Feiza Ben Mohammed, spokesperson for the Federation of Southern Muslims, fears that stigmatising Muslims in this way will play into the hands of IS recruiters. That fear seems well-founded: researchers cite a sense of exclusion as a factor behind the radicalisation of a minority of French Muslims. Measures like this can only exacerbate that problem. Indeed, provoking repressive measures against European Muslims to cultivate such a sentiment is part of the IS strategy.

Meanwhile, the day after the incident in Sisco, riot police were needed in nearby Bastia to prevent a 200-strong crowd chanting “this is our home” from entering a neighbourhood with many residents of North African descent. Given the recent warning from France’s head of internal security of the risk of a confrontation between “the extreme right and the Muslim world”, such scenes are equally concerning.

Now more than ever, France needs unity. Yet more legislation against veiled women can only further divide an already divided nation.

The Conversation

Fraser McQueen, PhD Candidate, University of Stirling

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.