To grow bigger by belittling oneself

When underachievers thrust themselves into the spotlight, their display of self-debasement sets off alarms in a go-getter culture

The first time I detected a major rift in public perception toward the rising tide in the mentality of underachieving in China was the backlash that ensued after filmmaker Feng Xiaogang commented on an Internet meme.

He was puzzled that the word diaosi was spreading like wildfire and, more surprisingly, used as a self-description. The literal meaning for the word is pubic hair for man and, as the male genitalia is sometimes used to disparage, diaosi refers to someone extremely insignificant. Why would a self-respecting person call himself that, Feng wondered publicly, to which he was accused of losing touch with the gestalt. For someone who made his name by unofficially representing the comic instincts of the common people, that was a big slap in the face.

Diaosi is not really an online coinage. It has been in use in many Chinese dialects, usually as a crude term for someone in bad shape or luck, but it has occasionally taken on the opposite meaning of swagger. To my knowledge, the word diao popped up in the press when Taiwan superstar Jay Chou flaunted it as his pet phrase for "awesome".

I have to point out that, like most slang terms descriptive of sexual organs, they tend to be overused and, as such, soon lose their literal connotation, to the point many spit out the words with little knowledge of their original definitions. I didn't realize some terms I grew up with are rooted in sexual undertones until well into my adulthood and it's probably the same for others because some terms would not make sense when used by another gender - some women also call themselves diaosi.

Although these expressions have long etymological histories, their sudden popularity cannot be explained by the vogue of social media alone. The author Ma Xiaoyan traced it back to the 1990s when Hong Kong comedian Stephen Chow was embraced on mainland college campuses as a voice that spoke to them like no other. Since then Chow has been elevated to a god-like pantheon.

Chow often portrays an underachiever who is rescued by a damsel. The humor he squeezes out of the vulnerability proves to be endearing to legions of the young who have failed to identify with the traditional archetype of the hero known for rescuing the damsel in distress. Of course, he ends up winning her, but not through heroic posturing or deeds, but rather, by playing the loser or victim of circumstances.

In a go-getter culture that is relentlessly striving for higher goals, the masses need something to fall back on, to justify the status quo so to speak. Not everyone can be a Jack Ma or ace a class of Harvard aspirants. When success is defined almost exclusively by fame and fortune, it takes courage, as some argue, to stand up and proclaim that you are not successful but you are happy with it. It is a gesture of defying conventions, they insist.

Others contend it is a trend of servility, a kind of self-deprecating humor that masks their inferiority and timidity and their eagerness to belong in a more enviable social group. Actually, it is reflected in the way they assign nicknames to some of the biggest symbols of worldly success. Wang Sicong, son of the Wanda business empire, is seen by many as the country's most coveted bachelor and hence hailed as "the national husband", and Han Han, best-selling author and now filmmaker, has gained the moniker "the national father-in-law" after he started posting photos of his daughter.

The Chinese tradition dictates a level of superiority by seniority. When you address someone who is not your relative and not much older than you are as if they are your father, grandfather or husband (Confucian hierarchy demands women obey their husbands unconditionally), it involves a subtle or not-so-subtle self-debasement. Beijingers use ye (literally grandfather) to denote a patriarchal position. The best illustration of the hierarchical implication is in Lu Xun's classic tale of a low life who was preyed upon by those stronger than he and, instead of fighting back, uttered the most famous line for underachieving - "I'm your father!" - in a psychological counterattack to get even.

If this is the yardstick, the current fad has sunk lower because the online populace readily kowtows to icons of success without even being bullied. But it would be simplistic to equate this readiness with the age-old custom of humility such as addressing oneself as "your humble servant" or "I'm unworthy". For the current generation, there is a playfulness in putting oneself down this way. When one is suddenly knocked down from his normal position, one suffers humiliation. When self-degradation is ritualized, it tends to be internalized and accepted as social norm. But when it takes on the facade of role-playing, seriousness gives way to so-called deconstruction, dragging down the object of exaggerated reverence together with the subject.

I don't know when the saying "You'll lose when you get serious" first surfaced as a popular idiom, but it represents a change of attitude, or rather, a correction to the preponderance of the emphasis on dignity. (The downtrodden have always shown a remarkable degree of resilience over the ages.) While the elite class has no problem accepting institutionalized self-debasement, they cannot accept the underachieving rationale to take over as the mainstream. The class division in self-image, which has never been absent, looms much larger with the advent of a democratic platform like the Internet that enables erstwhile faint voices to join in a resounding chorus.

The funny thing about the current fad of self-derogation is its complexity: It contains many layers of feelings, including contradictory attempts that at once subscribe to conventions and make light of them, frustrations at not attaining status symbols that would have raised them to a higher social plane, and a survival instinct that requires them to sacrifice such luxuries as self-respect. It tends to be stretched beyond the point of satire where every ounce of witty self-deprecation is squeezed out.

As it is a collective expression with a carnival milieu, it gains not only legitimacy but currency that comes with the participation of the majority. In that sense, the first one to call himself a diaosi might have taken courage or honesty, the hundreds of millions who follow him in the practice could simply have found an outlet for their mix of sentiments, or just found it easy to roll off the tongue.

I have noticed some parallels with the pejorative terms for gays or blacks in American usage. They were invented to make these groups feel bad about themselves and, therefore, became sensitive or taboo words. Gradually, the victims started picking them up as a badge of bruised honor, thus injecting a devil-may-care nonchalance or defiance. For those Chinese who want to be proud wearing the hats of "losers" or "underachievers" or diaosi, there is the added comfort in the fact that they are in the majority. But their nonchalance or defiance is relative because once they climb to a higher echelon they will feel prouder and possibly use the terms with condescension.

For the time being, it is populist to embrace this trend. When they have mocked themselves, others would hesitate to mock them.

The writer is editor-at-large of China Daily. Contact him at raymondzhou@chinadaily.com.cn