Annie Wang - The People’s Republic of Desire

The third dilemma among the young people is whether to work for a boss or be self-employed. Laid-off workers from the northeast tell young people that the iron rice bowl is broken and state-owned factories are no longer reliable. This is nothing new. But overseas returnees from Silicon Valley, whom young people admire so much, also send bad news home from other side of the world: big multinational corporations are not reliable either.

So starting your own business and becoming self-employed grows into a popular goal. Lulu has recently resigned from her job and joined the be-your-own-boss trend. Lulu comforts herself. "Work according to my own schedule means flexibility and freedom." She wants to open a coffee shop but soon learns that getting loans from Chinese banks is very difficult. At the same time, Lulu also learns the hard truth, that being your own boss also means you have to pay for your own pension plan, as well as your own medical coverage and housing benefits.

Lulu feels that only a handful of people, like Beibei, who have both the right connections and access to deep pockets, can benefit from opening their own business.

The fourth dilemma concerns mainly young college graduates or those who have worked for a number of years in China: Should you go abroad for higher education or stay and climb up the corporate ladder within China? The foreign diploma fad has been around for years. Being referred to as "Dr. So-and-So" is considered flattering and trendy, especially when the degree comes from a Western country. But this honor comes at a very high cost. Nowadays, it's not uncommon for students to owe as much as $50,000 in student loans after graduation. Given the ample business opportunities that China provides for talented people, many young people believe it's more worthwhile to stay in China and accumulate wealth.

High Mountain, my former classmate – who hasn't gone abroad – tells me, "In the United States, you can easily become a member of the middle class and earn a fairly decent salary, but it is not likely that you will become one of the superrich. But if you stay in China, this is highly possible." A few years ago, High Mountain 's state-owned company was privatized. All of a sudden, High Mountain, as the former party secretary of the company, was the owner of a multimillion-dollar corporation. High Mountain 's transformation is an example of a successful deployment of the new market economy in China. But even with his new money, High Mountain still lacks the world-liness, vision, and sophistication of those who have lived in both China and the West.

The fifth dilemma is whether you should buy a house first or a car? Young couples want to own both a car and a house like their peers in developed countries. But when their income is not high enough to own both at the same time, many choose the house over the car. Why? Is it because a house represents a better financial investment? Not really. The stability of the overvalued real estate market is beginning to show signs of strain, especially in big cities such as Shanghai, Beijing, and Shenzhen.

Plus, many work units offer their employees housing prices below market value or provide subsidized housing as part of their employee benefits package. This creates an environment where it is more reasonable to buy a home than to rent. Lulu, for example, bought her flat for only one-tenth of the marketing price. And while cars also serve the practical purpose of providing transportation, their ability to display their owners' social status is even more powerful than that of a house. Public transportation and taxis prove to be much more affordable than owning a car in China, especially if your taxi fares can be reimbursed by your workplace. My friends Beibei and Lulu often collect receipts for reimbursement as a method of supplementing their income. Of course, there is clearly no status in taking buses and taxis. So, both Beibei and Lulu still keep personal cars for the status.

The sixth dilemma is should you join the Communist Party? It's no longer a question of ideology; it's simply a matter of convenience. More and more young people join the Communist Party these days in order to get a good job or a promotion. High Mountain has his own theory: "The only difference between a party member and a non-party member is that, if you do something wrong, as a party member you are disciplined within the party system first. But if you're not a party member, you are subject to direct legal punishment." For him, joining the Communist Party is like taking out an insurance policy.

Finally, the seventh dilemma is a dilemma that Chinese men have wrestled with since the days of the Yellow Emperor: Should you listen to your wife or to your mother? As a Buddhist, I personally encourage Chinese men to listen to the teachings of Buddha.

IRON RICE BOWL: The Iron Rice Bowl refers to guaranteed lifetime employment in state enterprises, which was the central theme in Mao's socialist economy.

It is Monday morning. I am at my desk preparing for a new story on successful executives. I reserve Monday morning – the traditional day of dread – for routine tasks such as setting up appointments for interviews and booking hotel and flight reservations. As I thumb through my Rolodex, I come across the names of several of my former high school classmates. One of them, Xia, is vice president at a Swiss investment banking firm. Hoping he might give me some quotes for my story, I dial his number.

When Xia's secretary explains that Xia is not in, I leave a message saying that I would like to get together for lunch. One hour later, his secretary calls back to say that Xia's driver will pick me up at my office at noon.

Promptly at noon, Xia's personal assistant rings my desk to say that a car is waiting for me outside my office. I step outside and am quickly whisked into the open door of the waiting limousine.

"Mr. Xia has had an urgent business emergency," the driver explains. "He will meet up with us at the restaurant. I hope that is okay."

I sit back in the broad leather seat of the limousine, silently gazing through the smoked glass of the passenger window and contemplating what it must be like to have a personal driver. Or an assistant. Or a secretary.

At the restaurant, I sit alone at a table for two. The driver, who escorted me in, stands off to one side, refusing to sit down even when I invite him to do so.

"I'm sorry. I won't be able to join you. Mr. Xia should be with you very soon. I apologize."

About ten minutes later, a woman walks up to the driver, says a few words to dismiss him, and then approaches the table.

"I'm Ms. Yi," she says. "I'm Mr. Xia's executive assistant. I'm so sorry to inform you that Mr. Xia won't be able to come to lunch today. A very important matter has come up. He has requested that I keep you company. If you don't mind, may I take his place?"

Since when did my classmate become so insulated by a personal army of loyal guards? I clearly remember a day when we shared class notes, when I bought him lunch, when I lent him my bicycle. Now, I was being bumped for "important business." And he couldn't even deliver his own message.

This incident reminds me of my class reunion. In as little as seven years since graduation, the difference in levels of success between my classmates has become almost immeasurable. While some were arriving in chauffeured limousines bragging about their designer suits and the quality of their personal chefs, others were busy patting down their hair, so obviously blown askew from the wind as they rode their bicycles to the party. And this in a society that once championed mass conformity over individuality and personal achievement.

For a brief moment, I feel oddly nostalgic for the days when I could leave my apartment without concern for whether my shoes matched my bag. Once, a person's wealth was measured by the size of his bag of watermelon seeds, not the number of servants at his side. Now, simply getting some face time with an old friend requires one to penetrate a strong line of defense. And laborers work for such low wages that China 's social elite have even taken to hiring them for no other reason than to impress their neighbors and friends.