A common praise among Chinese people is being pragmatic[1]. This trait is evident in both academics and career choices, often manifesting as a preference for certain fields. For academics, having a solid foundation in the sciences embodies the phrase: "If you master mathematics, physics, and chemistry, you can walk the world unafraid." When it comes to careers, especially during China's period of economic boom, there was a preference for professions close to wealth, such as real estate. It’s hard to say whether this preference for the sciences—and the corresponding disdain for the humanities—stems from the practical reality that STEM fields offer clearer and more abundant employment opportunities.
Overseas Chinese, like Singapore's founding father Lee Kuan Yew, take pride in this pragmatic approach. Mainland Chinese politicians do as well, though their pragmatism often centers more on personal political achievements, typically measured by GDP growth. The WikiLeaks incident revealed that a Chinese national leader (Premier) once admitted to falsifying economic data, showcasing the darker side of this fixation on economic growth. Behind the facade of China's economic miracle lie untold hardships and sorrows, exemplified by rural migrant workers.
The concept of "nationhood," an imported and imagined idea, was quickly adopted in China without much hesitation. Our past collective mindset, shaped by both feudalism and paternalistic ideologies, made this adoption seem natural and unchallenged. However, when we examine the linguistic diversity and the existence of regional discrimination, we are compelled to ask: what is the basis of national identity? As the younger generation, we must break away from blind adherence to tradition and attempt to deconstruct it. In doing so, we may discover a China different from the one we've imagined throughout our upbringing.
With China opening up to visa-free travel, many YouTubers have visited and expressed amazement at modern China on their platforms. Naturally, we feel a sense of national pride—perhaps fueled by our century of humiliation, making foreign opinions all the more significant. I understand this sentiment and acknowledge that there are international narratives that vilify and ridicule the Chinese people, beyond criticism of the regime. However, being swept up in nationalist fervor while ignoring the China that foreigners don’t see—the voices of the silent majority—raises the question: what are we thinking, and why?
How is this different from the scenes in the Soviet Union, where foreign scientists and philosophers were shown a curated image of the country? The inevitable downside of a unified political system is the detachment of the government from the majority it claims to represent. Take today’s television dramas, for example—a form of mass entertainment. These shows often depict the extravagant lives of the elite, yet label them as stories of “ordinary people.” These elites are far removed from the realities of the common person.
The existence of natural villages and rural culture may soon come to an end, whether due to abandonment, collapse, or complete industrialization. The Han ethnicity may appear to be the dominant group, but how many people are truly regarded as individuals with full rights? The term "human mine" (人矿) didn’t arise from nowhere; it speaks to the commodification of labor and human lives. We do not adopt this nationalistic system because the concept itself is not pure; it is, after all, a man-made construct, and its vague boundaries make it difficult to define clearly. Minority groups may find ways to assert their identities through opposition to the dominant ethnicity. For example, African Americans in the U.S. can emphasize social traits that distinguish them from whites. But what about the Han Chinese? People will discover that they lack a spiritual anchor or a sense of homeland. The Han have gradually become the default ethnicity—the one that doesn’t need to be acknowledged, the ethnicity of ordinary people.
[1] Practical and pragmatic, sometimes utilitarian.
中国人的一个常见赞美是务实[1]，这点体现在对于学科和工作上就是对某些领域的偏爱；对于前者来说，有一个好的理科基底，就是“学好数理化，走遍天下都不怕”了，后者的话，在中国经济红利期（经济显著增速上行时代）的时候应该是对钱离得近的职业的偏爱，比如说地产商人。当然，很难说前者的这种对理科的偏爱以及相应的对人文学科的鄙夷是不是因为“实践层面”上来说理工科的就业机会更多，更明朗。
海外华裔，如新加坡国父李光耀也因为这点而自豪，骄傲；中国内地的政客也是如此吧，当然，他们务实的点更多是自己的政绩，即（大部分时候）GDP的增速，维基解密事件曾经泄露出中国的国家领导人（总理）亲口承认数据造假一事，可见一斑；只能说经济奇迹绽放之花的背后也有很多不足为外人道也的心酸和悲伤，拥有农村户口的农民工就是其中之一。
民族作为一个“外来的想象的观念”，却在中国几乎没有迟疑就被纳入，我们过去的集体主义和封建主义家长制下的思潮让我们对这样的思想是没有不认可和阻挡的。但当我们真真正正地去看着南腔北调的不同， 地域歧视的存在，我们就会想问：民族的认同是基于什么的？我们作为年轻一代，要打破对传统的依从，尝试去解构它，以此会发现一个不一样的中国，一个与我们从小到大想象中不同的国度。
开放免签后的YouTuber们纷纷访华并在这个流媒体平台上表达自己对中国之现代而震惊，我们自然有一种朴素的民族自豪，或许是因为过去的百年屈辱后外国人的评价便极为重要。我自然理解这种情感，也承认国际上存在着除了对政权之外，对中国人民的丑化和嘲笑。但是一味被民族主义和民粹主义裹挟叫好，却装作自己看不见外国人看不到的看不着的中国，听不见外国人听不到的沉默的大多数，这般所作所为，所思所想又如何，为何？
此般场景和彼时彼刻的苏联让外国科学家，哲学家等看到的有什么区别呢？
统一的政体所带来的必然劣势是不代表大多数人群的政权的必然脱离（举个例子，如今的电视剧——这一应该作为最广泛大众娱乐节目的形式——却是拍摄的都是精英阶层极尽奢华的生活，冠之以“普通人”的名字；这些阶层已经与普通人相差太远了）；自然村的存在和乡土文化大概是要落幕了，不管最终它看到的是荒废，崩溃还是全面的工业化。
汉民族看似是中国最强势的主体民族，但真正能被当作一个拥有完全权利的人的又是多少。“人矿”一词绝非空穴来风，它的存在本身说明的就是大部分没有那么幸运的普通中国人劳动力和生命力的商品化——不管对“它们”的利用到底是通过房产市场亦或是隐形的社会再次分配。
我们不用这套民族的体系，因为它的概念并不纯粹，因为它本身便是人造的概念，很难因为不清晰的界限而变得鲜明。少数民族或许可以通过与主体民族的对抗来实现自己身份的认同，美国黑人可以强调其社会区别于白人的特征，但汉族人呢？人们会发现自己并没有那个精神依托和家乡，汉人逐渐成为了那个被默认的民族，那个不需要被认同的普通人的民族。
[1] Practical and pragmatic, sometimes utilitarian.
