Written by ICG member Simon Shaw, Ignite Qualitative Research Consultancy

While working from home has become the ‘new normal’ in the West, it most certainly has not in China.  Most companies require people to make the daily commute to the office and, more to the point, people happily comply.

Why should this be so?  Here are some of the main reasons:-

1. Unsuitable homes

Chinese apartments tend to be small, with limited access to green space.  They are cold in winter and hot in summer.  Older apartments may have slow internet connections.  For many, home is little more than a place to rest your head at night: the metaphorical bolthole.

Most young Chinese live with Mum and Dad until they get married.  This means that a large proportion of 20 and 30-somethings not only have cramped living space to contend with, but the presence of Mum and Dad too.  In many families, grandparents are also present, adding to the claustrophobic atmosphere.

In this context, the office – especially if it is modern and well-appointed – is positively appealing.

2. Uniquely miserable lockdowns

In China, the term ‘lockdown’ meant just that: an order to stay inside your home, at all times, until further notice.  All shops were shut and food distribution became the responsibility of local government.

For weeks on end, people left their apartments only when ordered downstairs to line up for an enforced lateral flow test.  There, they would be met by the dystopian sight of the community ‘da bais’ – health workers, security guards and policemen dressed head to toe in hazmat suits.  If they tested positive, they would be carted off to a ‘fangcang’ – an industrial-scale warehouse in which those infected with the virus could be detained until further notice.  If this meant separation from family, tough.

As if this was not enough, the lack of any furlough or business support schemes resulted in huge financial losses from which many have never recovered.  The shuttered-up shops that still line streets up and down the country are testament to the damage done to countless livelihoods.

The experience of working from home was at best miserable, and at worst traumatic.  Getting back to the office was a cause for joy, not regret.

3. Corporate norms

In many local enterprises, corporate structures are hierarchical, not flat.  Relationships between bosses and workers tend to be ‘master-servant’ in nature.  Working independently is discouraged, and micro-management is the norm.

Workers themselves – especially younger ones – feel more comfortable under the wing of their boss.  Their formative years, all the way through to tertiary education, have been characterised by the observance of rules, conforming to norms, and learning by rote.  Acting alone, taking the initiative, being a ‘self-starter’: such ideas are anathema to the young Chinese worker.

While Westerners may value the space and freedom of working from home, their Chinese peers are just as likely to find it perplexing and paralysing.

4. Lack of trust

In the West, employers tend to assume that their employees can be trusted to act in the interests of their employer.  And, broadly speaking, they do.  Safeguards of course exist to ensure miscreants are caught, but the expectation is that malign behaviour is the exception, not the rule.

This in simply not the case in China.  The assumption is that the employee will find ways to maximise their own interests, regardless of whether or not such interests are aligned with those of the company.

And there is good reason for this.  Sales people may direct new business enquiries to a third party in which they have a stake, or who offers them a cut.  As Western companies operating in China know only too well, IP laws are rarely enforced and employees can be easily tempted to share data with competitors, especially when the reward of offer is equivalent to a year’s salary.

In this context, it pays to have your employees where you can keep an eye on them.  Allowing them to access sensitive data from home would pose too great a risk.

5. The importance of relationship-building

In a society where the rule of law is inconsistently applied, trust between parties is the cornerstone of business relationships.  However, given that the default is a lack of trust, building confidence requires a lot of time and effort.

Above all, it requires those involved to get to know each other as people.  Business entertainment in the form of long lunches and dinners is commonplace: many people will go out two or three times a week to oil the wheels of client or colleague relationships.  Water-cooler moments or trips to the golf club are more than just helpful asides in the course of a working week; they are absolutely essential to the function of business.

The personal, human dimension is everything in China, and this is best done via face-to-face contact.  Zoom will never offer this.

6. A love of being with others

Chinese culture is built on relationships.  Unlike Westerners, who view themselves primarily as individuals, Chinese people define themselves as members of groups: the family, the friends’ circle, the company.

They are never happier than when they are with others, and never unhappier than when they have to spend long periods of time alone.  It is no coincidence that holidays are taken in tour groups, that shopping malls are crowded and that restaurants are noisy.  Indeed, it has even been demonstrated that Chinese people are more likely to sit near others when entering a bus or train carriage, when Westerners naturally choose to sit further apart.

The workplace is a great example of this tendency.  There is no culture of eating alone, at one’s desk.  Instead, workers eat with colleagues, often in groups of 4 or 5, sometimes more.  It is notable that offices tend to empty out at the same time, as if workers take comfort in the knowledge that it is not just their group eating together, but everyone else’s group eating at the same time as them.

Eating at home, isolated from the one’s colleagues, might fill the stomach, but it does not nourish the soul.

 

By ICG member Alex Blondin, Everything is User Experience

 

In our experience, it’s a lot harder than clients often think. Are you sure that they’ve communicated everything that your agency needs?

Find out in our latest ebook, “How to Brief an Agency,” a collaboration between Everything is User Experience and Literal Humans.

–         Why a brief is the key ingredient for a successful project
–         Guidance and stories from industry experts
–         Pointers for building stronger agency partnerships
–         How to achieve the better creative results
–         Are you ready for a briefing method that stands out as much as your brand?

Expect professional insights, a touch of humour, and a surprising appearance from a Feng Shui master — and what we can all learn from him.

This was mainly written for agency clients but in many cases the agency ends up writing these briefs so this is a guide on how to do it the right way.

 

Read the White Paper here

 

You may also find this Round Table Discussion, ‘Your Clients Don’t Think You’re Strategic Enough’ (24 April) interesting. Register here

https://www.everythingisuserexperience.com/

 

Article by ICG member Felicia Schwartz, China Insight

Having worked on several olfactory projects in China this year, scent has been on my mind. As we are approaching the Chinese New Year I could not help wondering: what is the scent of the lunar new-year festival? We are quick to associate a host of scents with Christmas, the Western equivalent of China’s seasonal holiday, from cinnamon and clove to gingerbread and the heady scent of mulled wine or hot chocolate. These scents are wafting throughout retail, food venues and are reflected in popular culture (anyone seen Wonka in December?) In fact, notwithstanding local and personal variations, we have established a common virtual scent catalogue for a range of occasions and concepts like “Christmas”, “Freshness”, or “Romance.” These scents are no less powerful than visual symbols or auditory cues.  But they do not necessarily travel across cultures.

Huang Xuelei’s fascinating talk at SOAS on her book, Scents of China, revealed a complex history of scent. It painted an imperial past, where the upper echelons of society had a very sophisticated scent vocabulary (the 18C novel Dream of the Red Chamber, for example, refers to a burgeoning incense culture including “agarwood crutches”, “red musk wrist-beads” and “spice-aroma incense sachets”.) But the era of turmoil heralding the emergence of a modern China did away with this historical plethora of scent. After a gingerly stab at exploring modern fragrances in 1920’s Shanghai, Chairman Mao positively politicized scent often referring to the stench of (bourgeois) enemies whilst outlawing perfume.  The opening of China in the 1980’s thus found China somewhat scent-free and susceptible to an onslaught of products from the West.

Fast-forward a few decades to a self-confident China where Gen’Zrs are looking to the past to define their present and future Chinese-ness. The current fragrance trend (worth 2,5 billion USD in 2022, a number forecast by Euromonitor to nearly double by 2025) sees half of GenZ’s wearing scent daily and home fragrance exploding during and after Covid.

Fragrances are strongly associated with feelings and memories, so I was interested to delve into the imaginary and scent-associations of fellow Chinese experts at this emotionally charged time of the year.

Author Huang conjured the Chinese daffodil (shuixian 水仙), and the wintersweet, (lamei 腊梅), which blooms in the winter. For her, both these flowers emit a subtle yet sweet scent, carrying the spirit of winter sunshine, warmth, and hope, conjuring memories of home and carefree childhood times. Documentary maker Gu Siyi evokes the sweet aroma of eight treasure rice and associates this period with the lingering after-scent of firecrackers and that of the dry, fresh, invigorating scent of cold air she remembers from the Beijing of her childhood.

There is no wonder that domestic fragrance brands are especially successful in tapping into this rich well of culture. Chinese beauty brand Pechoin created a special Chinese New Year gift set a few years back featuring cold creams scented respectively to conjure the smell of fireworks, the fragrance of the iconic red envelope (hongbao 红包), and the aromas and flavours of a familial reunion banquet. Current darling fragrance brand To Summer links the scent of citrus and dried tangerine to memories of reunions and sharing mandarins during the Chinese New Year. It builds its brand on a commitment to restoring Eastern botanical scents and taps into the Guochao trend by dishing up Chinese tradition in an ultra-contemporary style.

Another local star, Scent Library, is known for products dipping into the recent nostalgia for childhood memories. Popular lines include White Rabbit, a collaboration with the ubiquitous Chinese milk candy brand. With young local consumers looking to express their taste and personality, niche brands are flourishing and popular scent directions are ever-evolving.

The year of the dragon is especially laden in symbolism, with the dragon being the most powerful of the zodiac animals. Insight specialist Wang Ying Ying associates this year with the scents of wood and ambergris which respectively connote strength and power, qualities associated with the Dragon. Huang agrees that this year calls for a bold statement. For her, spicy and citrus notes exude the confidence and strength associated with the dragon’s strong “yang” energy. Interestingly, she sees a ‘gender neutral’ scent, the dragon not being gendered and its positive characteristics being attributable to all genders. This would sit well with a market trend that sees high-end gender-neutral scents as a subcategory with the highest compound annual growth rate (2016-2021, Euromonitor).

Brands have not missed the opportunity to make an impression. Of course not every brand has the luck of Jo Malone, known as Zu Ma Long (祖马龙) in Chinese, with its last character literally being “dragon”. Yet international and local brands alike feted the year of the dragon with culturally resonating new launches. Jo Malone’s new Dragon-year fragrances contain precious ingredients like myrrh and red hibiscus and are contained in luxurious gold and red bottles.

Slightly more imaginative, French Fragrance brand Diptyque has teamed up with Chinese calligraphy artist Ao Hei to spruce up its packaging with ink strokes and gold foil. The limited-edition fragrance “Diptyque Paper,” is made with white musk, rice scent, mimosa, and golden woody notes, evoking the delicate scent of ink when it touches paper.

Meanwhile Swedish fragrance and accessory brand Byredo honours the CNY tradition of gathering and feasting with a limited-edition collection of homewares. Co-designed with Shanghai-based studio KAE, the collectibles are handcrafted in Jingdezhen, China’s ceramic Mecca, and the curvilinear forms pay homage to classical Chinese silhouettes as well as echo Byredo’s iconic perfume bottle.

Huang summarises that Perfume, as a purely sensory product, needs to cater to the synesthetic nature of our sensory perception and thus creating a successful perfume is a complex endeavour encompassing scent, story, concept, and associated imagery. She underlines that Chinese culture has an especially rich repertoire of such image-scent-story associations anchored in poetry, literature, theatre and the visual arts. This ancient repertoire, as well as a more recent realm of nostalgia created by the rapid change seen in Modern China, have yet to be fully tapped into by the perfume industry and constitute a productive area to explore.

https://www.linkedin.com/in/felicia-schwartz-70331b/

https://www.chinainsight.co.uk/