+ 《名利场》记者写China Daily
原China Daily的同事卓琼美女（右）在其msn上贴的Vanity Fair杂志记者访问我们中国日报社以后的感想。应该说是批判了，hh，连我们门口貌似武警的门卫都不放过，顺便又调侃回我们的记者本身，说连Thought Police都不需要，因为我们的中国记者自觉得很……
an article about China Daily（杂志原文链接）
But being Chinese would be rough in the writing business. A few weeks ago I slogged across town to the large and modern headquarters of China Daily, a state-owned English-language paper with a circulation of 200,000, which presents a sanctioned and sanitized view of Chinese realities primarily to foreign readers. As usual with propaganda sheets and their brethren in advertising, the paper makes for interesting reading because so often it cannot help but highlight the very weaknesses it intends to gloss over. Is the dynamic new China suffused with special integrity? Does the Olympic torch spread hope and happiness to the world? Why are we even discussing these matters? Recently, China Daily has been emphasizing heartwarming stories about the newly rich making voluntary donations to the poor. The paper’s staff includes a smattering of native English speakers—young adventurers playing this gig before moving on, and washed-out expatriates who have had to settle for the job. For the most part, however, the reporters are bright and earnest Chinese, and graduates of Chinese journalism schools. A few had asked me to speak to them about my work, and I in turn needed their advice on breaking through to the Beijing bureaucracies. Hence my willingness to travel across town—usually a daunting prospect in Beijing.
The China Daily building was designed around a lofty atrium with an espresso bar. It had guards dressed in snappy uniforms, who stood at the entrance at rigid attention, eyes ahead, and patrolled the hallways marching two abreast, making snappy turns. They were not, in other words, like the guards at Vanity Fair in New York, who slouch with the confidence of navy seals, ever vigilant for terrorist attack—a nefarious assault on free speech, which might be preceded, a guard once warned me, by the use of lasers to map the building’s foyer. I shudder for hostages up at the magazine Gourmet—what would they eat? At China Daily, at least, such worries were far away. In fact, I didn’t see why guards of any kind were necessary there, in the middle of Beijing. When I asked the question, my hosts seemed not to have wondered. I was free therefore to imagine that the guards were some kind of Thought Police. But it turned out that Thought Police are not necessary at China Daily. In a conference room upstairs, I described the range of editorial liberties available at Vanity Fair and watched as one by one the assembled reporters decided that we inhabit the same earth only in name. It surprised me that they showed no sign of regret about their roles, or of envy about the possibilities offered by freedom of the press. They seemed to believe genuinely in the need for censorship, and executed most of it themselves before even beginning to write. They said that when they want to interview officials they submit their questions weeks in advance and usually receive an official response in writing. There is no place for give-and-take or challenge. When I mentioned my goal of speaking to a certain high official face-to-face and without prepared questions, they implied they could not help without jeopardizing their own positions, and they predicted with certainty that my request would be denied. I asked why. One of the reporters called it a cultural disinclination. He said that when he asks innocuous China Daily–style questions on the streets—What do you think of Kentucky Fried Chicken?—people refuse to answer even anonymously. He said that the Chinese cherish their privacy. More likely they are afraid of singing the wrong lines.