Contact is taking a holiday!

The New York Times

By IAN JOHNSON
December 18, 2014

John Osburg, 39, an assistant professor of anthropology at the University of Rochester, is the author of “Anxious Wealth: Money and Morality Among China’s New Rich,” based on his research in the southwestern Chinese city of Chengdu. His book paints a rich picture of the complex ways in which men and women try to buy favors and get ahead in business ventures, often by courting government officials at night clubs and often over drinking and sex. And it describes a milieu beset by anxiety over whether their gains can last.

In the first part of an interview, Mr. Osburg discussed how embedded corrupt practices are in China, the prospects for change after President Xi Jinping’s crackdown on graft and why so many rich Chinese are emigrating. In this second part, he discusses his latest research on the surprising turn that many of China’s new rich have made toward Tibetan Buddhism and other forms of spiritual fulfillment:

Q. You would think that as people get richer they’d get more sophisticated. But you found this isn’t the case.

A. I saw that many people do aspire to sophisticated tastes and a more fulfilling lifestyle than banqueting and drinking in nightclubs, but often they were doing business with those who didn’t share their tastes. You might try to serve a relatively obscure California wine that might be one hundred times better than some Bordeaux, but you run the risk of having the government official you’re hosting think you’re being cheap and not respecting his position. So to play it safe you’ve got to serve Lafitte or Mouton or some winery he’s heard of.

But there’s no question that tastes are evolving, albeit somewhat slowly. Now that every Shanxi coal baron’s mistress can afford Louis Vuitton, in order to differentiate themselves, other new rich are moving on to other pursuits and tastes.

I think this is part of what’s driving this interest in spiritual and moral cultivation. Some people are genuinely interested in spiritual transformation and in becoming better, more moral people. But there’s also an element of social distinction that’s feeding this trend. If even the Shanxi coal baron’s mistress can afford to buy anything, then how do you distinguish yourself from the herd? If you can’t do it in the realm of luxury consumption, then you look elsewhere.

Q. Your personal spiritual guide.

A. Right, but there’s still often an element of status competition in their spiritual pursuits. In the past it was who knew the highest-level official. But now the wealthy are competing over who patronizes the most powerful monk.

Q. Were other factors at play, as well? For example the idea that once you have everything you wonder what else there is? Or the idea that you’re buying protection in the next life?

A. Among some there’s a sense of guilt as they get older, fed by their past misdeeds. There’s a health component, too. The nightly binge drinking, which sometimes includes other substances, is taking a toll on a lot of them. When they retreat from that lifestyle they wonder how to fill their time.

Q. Are there any generalizations about what kind of spiritual answer they find? Some seem to like the idea that you can clear yourself by donating money to a temple, without any real reflection or familiarity with the teachings.

A. There’s definitely an element of that. The idea that you can give money to lamas or temples, that you can absolve yourself of past misdeeds and protect yourself from future misfortunes. Some see it as a way of continuing their worldly success, a way of ensuring that their business runs smoothly or that they aren’t investigated by the authorities. I even heard that some refer to their donations to temples and lamas as “spiritual protection money.”

But others take it more seriously and try to apply Buddhist teachings to their daily lives and even businesses, and I’ve encountered several people whose lives have been radically transformed by Buddhism.

Q. Why Tibetan Buddhism and not Chinese Buddhism?

A. There’s a sense among Han Chinese that it’s been less corrupted by the cultural and political upheavals of the past 60 years. Their ideas about Tibetan Buddhism also mirror many of their images of Tibet itself as being pre-modern, spiritualistic, happy. I get told that a lot. There’s a perception among Han that Tibetans are “happy” people and that belief in Buddhism is a key enabler of their happiness.

Also, Tibetan Buddhism is seen as more mysterious, powerful and efficacious than Chinese Buddhism. I’m just beginning to research this, but I think the practice draws them in as well. I don’t think Chinese Buddhism puts as much emphasis on practices like repetition of sutras and ritual prostrations for lay followers. Han Chinese often call it their gongke — their homework — this set of rituals and practices to follow in their daily lives.

Q. What’s your view on whether they’re more sympathetic to the Tibetan cause?

A. Given the sensitivity of this issue, I usually just ask about their views of Tibetans in general. And it seems that it’s led some people to overturn some negative stereotypes they had of Tibetans, such as being backward or uncivilized. But it’s unclear to me that this religious encounter is going to alter their attitudes toward the Tibetan issue. I’m reluctant to say anything definitive, because I don’t have enough data.

Q. You’ve mentioned how this has warped some aspects of Tibetan Buddhism, by giving money and prestige to religious figures who otherwise would have a fairly low status. They just happened to somehow attract the fancy of a rich Han Chinese and get showered with money. How are they discovered?

A. Some young monks go to Han areas with the specific aim of attracting Han followers, hoping to encounter wealthy patrons. But sometimes it’s just random. But these random encounters are usually interpreted according to notions of fate. You might have a rich entrepreneur who just happens to sit next to an ordinary monk on an airplane. Maybe he’s having a spiritual crisis and believes that he was fated to sit next to this monk and become his disciple. Even if the monk doesn’t see it that way, as a monk it’s his duty to help someone who is suffering, so he likely won’t refuse the person.

Q. Is it just a coincidence that a number of wealthy Westerners also follow Tibetan Buddhism? Is there something in Tibetan Buddhism that wealthy people like?

A. Its rise in China is clearly connected to the global popularity of Tibetan Buddhism, which arose in the West in the 1960s and ’70s and slightly later became popular in Taiwan and Hong Kong. Lay Buddhists in the mainland read Chinese translations of many of the same pop Buddhist philosophy books read around the world. As in the West, they view Tibetan Buddhism as offering a cure to many of the ills of modernity. So it’s linked up with the global trend, but also “reimported” in a sense.

But some aspects are unique to the People’s Republic. Take the rise of the Wuming Buddhist Institute. Jigme Phuntsok Rinpoche, the founder of the Larung Wuming Buddhist Study Institute in Serthar County [in the Garze Tibetan Autonomous Prefecture, Sichuan Province], had a vision that Tibetan Buddhism should spread to Han areas. That development was autonomous from the global rise of Tibetan Buddhism as a form of spiritual self-help, but many Chinese who started reading pop Buddhist philosophy eventually ended up at Serthar.

Now there are over 10,000 monks and lay Buddhists studying there, and many are Han Chinese. The Wuming Buddhist Institute even streams Buddhist sermons and has set up online courses.

Q. Why hasn’t Daoism become more popular?

A. It seems to me that the majority of the people I talk to are interested in spirituality in general. Some dabble in Christianity before turning to Buddhism. Others might start with Buddhism, but then move on to other religious traditions.

One guy I interviewed first encountered Tibetan Buddhism and thought it was the answer. But then he went to a lecture on Confucianism, and decided it was really what he had been seeking. Now he’s discovered Daoism. He told me he’s rich enough that he doesn’t have to work and now his mission in life is simply to promote Chinese cultural traditions. He now has a tea shop where he wants to revive traditional arts like flower-arranging and incense and tea.

He doesn’t view himself as exclusively a Buddhist, Confucian or Daoist, but incorporates elements of all three into his life, which in fact was the case with most religious practitioners throughout China’s history.