So anyway, there’s this story of Premier Wu Den-yih (吳敦義) being asked for specifics on a proposed economic cooperation framework agreement (ECFA) with China.
You may have heard of the ECFA. It doesn’t exist yet, but the term has taken the political and media worlds by storm. It’s so catchy that speakers of Chinese use the English abbreviation. It’s a glorious example of existential reification via acronym, even if no one seems to know what it’s about, whom it will benefit or even who is supposed to be doing all the cooperating.
So that’s why some reasonable person recently thought that the premier might be able to fill in some of the blanks. He is the head of the executive branch, after all. And he says that whoever in the business world benefits from this agreement should give back to the community by getting involved in environmentally friendly activities. Such a person must be able to enlighten the public on this crucial document-to-be, no?
And what was Wu’s response to the request for more details? According to the rag you’re holding, on Tuesday he said: “The [Ministry of Economic Affairs] is in charge of the matter and [the minister] is familiar with the whole subject ... he has the professional knowledge to answer them.”
You can imagine how things will play out at future press conferences.
Reporter: “Mr Premier, the National Health Insurance is close to bankruptcy. What policies will the government pursue to save this important and relatively popular government service?”
Wu: “The Department of Health is in charge of the matter and the health minister is familiar with the whole subject ... he has the professional knowledge to answer the question.”
Reporter: “Mr Premier, I would like to know how a convicted criminal politician who has just had a major operation can escape from a hospital when he is under police guard — and for the alarm not to be raised for hours. Isn’t this a matter of national concern?”
Wu: “That question would best be directed to the police authorities. They have the professional knowledge to answer that question.”
Reporter: “What is your position on the justice ministry trying to intimidate lawyers, defendants and the media?”
Wu: “You can’t seriously expect me to answer that question when my good colleague the justice minister is only one phone call away.”
Reporter: “If I may ask this, then, Mr Premier: Taiwan’s population is aging very quickly and we are headed for negative population growth. What approach is the government taking to this problem?”
Wu: “You would be best advised to direct your question to the ... uh ...”
Wu pauses, then calls over one of his underlings.
“Do me a favor and find out who’s responsible for population policy.”
“Yes, Premier.”
“And when you’ve done that, make sure he knows more than I do.”
“Right away, Premier.”
My regular readers know that I don’t have much sway with the political establishment these days. But if there were one issue the government could do with consulting old Johnny, it’s the graying of Taiwan. I’ve said many times before that it’s old farts like me that make this country great, but to tell the truth, if there’s too many of us, proportionally speaking, it’s going to be a grim place to live.
The aforementioned National Health Insurance system is only one part of government that would suffer from a decreasing tax base and a sharp increase in demand for services. And the social consequences of kids supporting sometimes two generations of oldies as they attempt to raise their own offspring should be obvious.
The government has tried to address the issue, granted, but so far it’s all been a bit lame. Appealing to civic-mindedness was perhaps the dumbest of all, but what all this showed is that the government — green or blue — will do just about anything to avoid mentioning a certain frightening word, even though it’s the only long-term solution in the absence of a commitment to publicly funded child care.
The word is “immigration.”
I don’t mean accepting foreign spouses of Taiwanese nationals. I mean inviting people to migrate to Taiwan with their families and set down roots here. Kind of like the US a century ago, back when “land of opportunity” was an invitation to foreigners, not a slogan for domestic backslappers.
The government fears doing this because they know what will happen. Even if applicants have to possess a certain level of education, most will come from China and Southeast Asia. The former applicant is politically tricky, while the latter ... well ... it would require a revamping of attitudes toward folks that presently serve as indentured labor.
I say bring in more Thais, Vietnamese, Filipinos, Malaysians, Indonesians, Cambodians, Laotians and Burmese. I say embrace the impact this will have on the Han chauvinism and middle class comfort zone that is sending our society to a retirement village.
But what about the Chinese? You may be surprised to hear that I welcome Chinese nationals coming here to work and live and die. But there is one condition: They must attend an interview conducted by yours truly, at which their suitability and congeniality will be confirmed. There might be a bit of a line around the corner from my makeshift Chinese Migrant Screening Center office on Neihu Road (slogan: “Be everything you should have been”), but I am sure those dedicated to the thought of being a new Taiwanese would not mind — and besides, there are lots of eateries in the area. Oh, and by the way: China’s minorities go straight to the front of the line.
In the meantime, for the rest of us, we can still contribute to our national destiny by resisting the greed that underlies our middle class’ self-imposed One Child Policy and demanding the government and businesses take the costs of rearing children seriously. So, my friends, in between attacks on materialism and protests outside the Ministry of Whatever, let’s get humpin’. Everyone’s a winner.
Postscript: A day after I finished this column, there was a knock at the door. It was my gal Cathy Pacific, back home after Matsu knows how long. I didn’t know whether to weep with joy or faint with surprise, but before I could decide which would result in less injury, she looked me straight in the eye and said:
“Darling, I was so aroused — carnally and patriotically — by the draft of this week’s column you e-mailed me that I have returned from my years of indigent labor in the wilderness, my journey of self-discovery and sunburn ... to lie back and think of Taiwan. Then bend over and think of Taiwan. Then hang upside down with whipped cream dripping from my neinei and think of Taiwan. It’s time to defend the birth rate, Johnny. Take me now, darling, and with your swarthy jade stalk remind me of why you were famous in these parts all those years ago.
“Now, Johnny, now,” she said, puckering her lips, hitching up her Taitung-style bohemian skirt and adopting a pose I ought not describe. “Menopause can only wait so long.”
Got something to tell Johnny? Get it off your chest: Write to dearjohnny@taipeitimes.com, but put “Dear Johnny” in the subject line or he’ll mark your bouquets and brickbats as spam.
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