In Supertrends, we wrote about how increasingly-younger working professionals are coming to China, sometimes right after graduation from an MBA program or even undergraduate school. This is a certain trend. Shanghai can even be called the new New York for its growing fashion, club, restaurant, and shopping scenes. And, in the city’s business sector, to paraphrase the immortal Frank Sinatra, if you can make it there, you can make it anywhere.  But are halfpats the new expats?

Halfpats are not an official job classification, just a collective term for people that go to another country to work on their own initiative, rather than being sent by their firms. They come as tourists or students, then stay as workers, sometimes for years. On the other hand, the classic expatriate, in China and elsewhere, is typically an older executive at the managerial level dispatched on a limited-term assignment from the headquarters to an office abroad.

Expats play an important role in bringing experience, trust, and corporate culture to a foreign office. For this, they are often handsomely rewarded with luxurious (compared to local standards) rent and food allowances, tax-differential subsidies, even hardship pay and medical evacuation insurance. A new article by Alan Paul in the Wall Street Journal ponders whether the traditional expat is the Neanderthal to the halfpat’s Homo sapien:

…these old school mainline expats may be endangered. There is another, growing group of expats in Beijing who are younger, more willing to move around and less expensive to employ.

All true.  But I disagree with the idea of halfpats significantly endangering the Neander.. sorry, expats.  Unlike their halfpat descendants, older expats have experience that callow youth simply cannot make up. Furthermore, the very thing that makes halfpats attractive - local presence, Mandarin-speaking, upwardly mobile skills - makes them into flight risks.  They have choices about where to work in China, and may not have a long-term commitment to the foreign firm.

A multinational company in China would be no more likely to hire a halfpat instead of an expat than it would to hire an inexperienced Chinese manager. Every survey I have seen still says there is a shortage of management talent in China, whether foreign or local. The key of course, is management talent.  A halfpat may be extremely competent but, for company politics if for no other reason, nobody is handing them the keys to a multimillion dollar China operation.  So the premise that Paul puts forward is - and I think he must get this, too - partly flawed.  Expats and halfpats are apples and oranges.

Full disclosure, I am a halfpat based in Shanghai.  And, like all halfpats, I sometimes lament the fact I am not an expat.  It is true, I have no luxury villa, no car with driver, nor tuition subsidy to send my kids to school.  I don’t even have kids!  But, like many other people coming to China without a work sponsorship, I gave up comfortable and higher-compensated jobs in other countries for the chance to be here. It was a chance worth taking. And, like that other Sinatra song, “…regrets, I’ve had a few, but then again too few to mention.”

Contrary to the implied conclusion of Paul’s article, that halfpats are going to be replacing expats, I believe that the demand for expats is as strong as ever, and halfpats are a mutually exclusive quantity which may also be increasing, for that matter.

Many foreign firms are still expanding in (or even just entering) the China market, requiring foreign management staff. A recent announcement showed that companies choosing Shanghai as their regional headquarters are still on the increase, now numbering 206, up from just 41 in 2003. While the current HR practice in China is to try to follow a local or local-plus (i.e. the aforementioned halfpats, such as haigui returnee Chinese, or foreigners already living in China) hiring policy, there are not yet enough qualified halfpat candidates available for top organizational positions.

We may also study the preferred habitats of expats to guesstimate their numbers. For example, expensive serviced apartments can be an indicator of expat populations. To make a generalization, halfpats get much lower salaries and little or no housing allowance, so few can afford the US$1500 - $15,000 monthly rents on a serviced apartment or villa in Shanghai. We can therefore take growing supply of luxury residences (as long as they are filled) to mean that the expat market size is increasing. Singapore’s Frasers Property, previously featured in our article on the redevelopment of Shanghai’s Wujiang Road, plans to open 20 new serviced apartment buildings in China by 2010, half of its global increase during that period.

Paul’s WSJ article also points to a barrier for new or returning halfpats:

Longer-term visas have become harder to obtain in China. Many of the visa brokers often employed by halfpats have been shut down and there are rampant stories about expats without full-time employment having to leave China, at least for a while.

But then he continues with the common expectation that visa restrictions will be lifted at the end of September or October after the Paralympics are over, once again swelling the ranks of halfpats. I’m personally not so sure. On the ground in Shanghai, my impression is that during this period of visa tummult, China-based businesses quickly adapted: For example, English schools put their best staff on permanent work visas, and other companies that depended on unlicensed foreign workers made the switch to locals.  There is only unofficial rumor to go on in regard to the government policy after September: While longer business visas are likely to return, the requirements may still be strict.  Young halfpats, however, are nothing if not flexible and creative.

So, while China still remains an extremely attractive place to work in the minds of many young foreign graduates, the job market for those workers is tight, and I don’t expect a big influx of halfpats to displace more-experienced expats anytime soon.

Attention big company managers: Rest easy on your imported beds and high thread count sheets this night, your jobs are not in danger from Mandarin-speaking Young Turks just yet.

Related Information:

Rich Brubaker at All Roads Lead to China has been following the halfpat story for some time, I recommend you check out a few of his posts on the topic here and here.

Can organic vegetables grow in China’s depleted soils? Won’t environmental pollution offset any gains from eating healthy? Aren’t vegetables here, produced by China’s 500 - 600 million farmers, already dirt-cheap? These are just some of the questions I had about a year ago, when a Chinese entrepreneur pitched me on an idea that seemed so ridiculous that I had to remind myself of one of the traditional entrepreneurial litmus tests: If you’ve got an idea so crazy that everybody thinks you’ve lost your marbles, on the contrary you just might be onto something.

In a nutshell, this fellow had agricultural and academic connections to be parlayed into a network of greenhouses. They would be rented to foreigners who wanted to grow their own food. An integrated coffee shop and walking tour would allow people to hang around and watch their vegetables grow precariously from the ceilings. It was to be located in Shanghai’s picturesque and rural Fengxian district.

Although I knew something about the locavore and LOHAS (Lifestyle of Health and Sustainability) concepts, I still wondered if there were really enough green-thumb foreigners in the city to rent his greenhouses and farm their own produce.

“No problem!” he said, “We have people who do the actual farm work.” And what’s more, fresh ten kilogram baskets of the organically grown fruits and vegetables would be delivered to customers’ doors weekly. Ah, a garden without the work! Now he might be onto something.

I passed on the opportunity to invest but recommended the entrepreneur instead focus his marketing on the emerging middle/upper class of Chinese consumers who would be more than eager to eat up healthy vegetables at inflated prices. It turns out I was at least partly right. Before I get to that, let’s review a little Olympic context for organic foods in China.

In the wake of a poisonous dumpling scandal which rocked China-Japan relations in early 2008, China’s pre-Olympic food preparations suffered one indignity after another: The US planned to boycott the Olympic Village food altogether, Australia had to be banned from bringing its own food into the Village (including, it seems, copious quantities of Vegemite - Australia’s favorite spread), and the Olympic Village cafeteria itself would offer only 30 percent of the menu from China’s famous local cuisines. Then perhaps the ultimate loss of face for Chinese gourmands: Usain Bolt’s pre-world-record-setting meal? Chicken nuggets.

I mention the Olympics for its effect of kicking China’s organic foods production up a notch. In order to reassure Olympians - and the world - that China’s food chain was safe, no expense was spared. From RFID-encoded shipments to pigs having Mozart played on their final walk to the abattoir, safety was the number one priority. Number two was health.

In the run up to the Olympics, China has embraced organic foods extremely rapidly. Despite the fact that China has been a producer of organic foods for decades, just two years ago it was hard to find locally-available organic foods in even the foreign-owned hypermarts. Now, fresh, locally-grown organics are not only found in major grocery stores and served in top restaurants, they are even joining the ranks of DIY products.

Vegetable gardens put the commune back in China

Last week in the Shanghai Daily, a pair of organic food stories caught my eye, but this one about the People’s LOHAS Commune in Qingpu District was especially relevant given my experience with the farm/coffee shop/vegetable gallery I was told about last year:

The 33-hectare commune includes 27 hectares of farm land, and a 7-hectare eco-lagoon. The farm is divided into four parts - an orchard, a flower garden, an organic Chinese medicine farm and a vegetable farm.

For only 3,000 yuan (US$441) a year, you can have 3 hectares of land to grow any plant you like, even expensive ginseng.

In Supertrends of Future China, we discuss the growing trend in China of consumers seeking high-quality alternatives and upgrading their lifestyle, adopting activities such as LOHAS originally found in more affluent countries. We believe the trend is just getting started in China, although a number of incumbent businesses such as popular Shanghai eateries Element Fresh and Jujube Tree are already benefitting from the growing segment of health-conscious consumers. The Commune’s proprietor, Xie Lun, seems to share our optimism:

“The People’s LOHAS Commune welcomes everyone who loves nature as long as they observe two simple rules,” Xie says. “The first is no spitting and the second is that other people’s produce must not be taken without their permission. ”

So far more than 400 people, most white-collar workers, have applied to be members of the commune even though it will not officially open until next year.

Although China’s organic food industry is clearly only for affluent locals and foreign residents at this time, this is indeed a trend to watch and get positioned for. China’s own version of Whole Foods of Trader Joe’s may not be far behind.