ABSTRACT
One hot day in June 1995, I was conducting an interview at a factory in the Caohejing district of Shanghai, a thriving economic area in the southern part of the city, mostly populated with small, dynamic factories that report to the economic bureaus of the Caohejing district government. As I sat with the general manager of this factory, he spoke at length about how committed he was to living like the workers of his factory. He pointed out repeatedly that his salary was “exactly the same” as that of the line workers in his factory. “I am just like them,” he said, “I make the same amount of money as they do. That is what it means to be a socialist factory. . . . We believe in equality.” As the interview was drawing to a close, I began to think about my long ride back to the city center on my one-speed bicycle. It was a hot day, and I was dreading it. I mentioned something about this to my host, who then suggested eagerly that I leave my bike at the factory and let him drive me back to the city center, as he had business there anyway. As he suggested this course of action, he pointed across the parking lot to his company car, a large, expensive-looking Mercedes.
