Will Ethnicity Be Inventions?
I used to introduce myself as an Australian born in China. However, my recent emigration to Spain made that one-liner even longer. Now, I introduce myself as an Australian who was born in China and who currently lives in Spain.
I’ve found that, as I travel throughout South America and other places, people often ask me about recent trends in China, for no other reason than the fact that I appear Chinese. They may as well have asked a piece of Jamón about their farm, or a can of anchovies about their waters — all the answers would be
“I haven’t been there for quite a few years!”
Truth be told, with China’s stringent COVID-19 restrictions, it seems that only COVID-19 itself can freely enter and leave China these days.
This reality merely reflected the gradual detachment between my cultural roots (i.e., Chinese) and my country of birth (i.e., China). But consider this: what if humans were to ’advance’ beyond their cultural roots and countries of birth? Suppose that, in the future, a person’s cultural roots are no longer indicative of a particular country or place? What would happen if a person’s cultural roots or country of birth were no longer interlinked to race? Could we be entering an age where it may be considered inappropriate to assume a person’s ethnicity?
If you can believe it, there was a time when asking a person whether they were male or female neither offended, nor was it reasonably expected to offend, anyone. But nowadays, it is politically correct and, arguably, socially polite to make no assumptions regarding a person’s gender. With this being the way things are at present, it is not difficult to imagine a future in which asking whether someone is Chinese, Spanish or English could be construed as offensive, and as such, could possibly elicit a response like, “I’m a cyberpunk. I’m offended that you assumed my ethnicity.”
This isn’t just speculation. Consider NFTs, whose emergence, in my view, reflected the trend of self-identification. This emergence stands in stark contrast to that of Beanie Babies — the formerly trendy, limited-edition collectables which reached the zenith of their popularity alongside the advent of eBay and the Internet, but whose time in the limelight ended abruptly with the burst of the dot-com bubble in the 2000s. Though the rarest Beanie Babies were inevitably the most expensive ones, they were not symbolic of the self-identity of their owners. After all, even when Beanie Babies were prominent, essentially no one identified as a specific Beanie Baby owner, their rarities notwithstanding.
NFTs, on the other hand, are chock full of self-awareness.
Take the Bored Ape for example. Bored Ape was popular at a time when many young people had been establishing wealth for themselves, against the dated advice of their parents.
These young people think their boomer parents fail to understand what they are buying and speculating about… but this is not for a lack of trying to explain it. Their parents’ lack of understanding aside, they also don’t mind being called stupid or strange for investing in concepts that are foreign to their generation. These youth demonstrate their spending power with expert subtlety, in keeping with the nonchalant, bored countenance of Bored Ape. They have an air about them that speaks: “I may be stupid or strange, but I’m on a yacht, and you aren’t, and I can’t be bothered to explain myself.”
Even the not-so-rich or impecunious desire to be wealthy through NFTs, hence the buyer’s market for Bored Ape.
At this point I would make two (2) observations. First, there is a prevailing need among people to demonstrate their identity online, especially through purchasing and collecting. Second, that identity has nothing to do with race. If anything, one’s online identity is the new ethnicity.
Today, there is this strong inclination for people to find their identities, especially online. Yet, this inclination is not without its consequences; building genuine connections with people is now more challenging than it has ever been before, possibly in human history. And there are those whose very existence is tied to their virtual identity and online spaces, which facilitated the NFT boom.
As I write this article, I’m staying at a hotel in Lima, the capital of Perú. As the President of the Peruvian Horse Association in Australasia, I’m on a mission to connect with the members of the Peruvian horsemanship community. Peruvian culture is full of colours — the elegant Paso horses, the Marinera dance, and the refreshing tastes of ceviche and Pisco. Nonetheless, if one were to take a leisurely stroll down the city centre, Lima looks no different than the hundreds of other 20th century cities. Indeed, they all include the same new franchised retail shops and hotels which you can find anywhere else in the world.
Someone from an old Peruvian town who grew up riding Peruvian Paso horses, and who moved into the CBD a few years ago, might feel the same drift between their cultural roots and his country of residence as I did. They may find some solace in owning a few items of tradition, such as a Puncho, or a Sombrero Chotano hanging on a wall in their abode.
But the younger generations were born here, in the CBD, and were brought face-to-face with a world in which immense wealth is and can be generated, together with an all-encompassing Internet. In other words, what exists today is all they know. For these youth, anime and/or crypto feel(s) as real to them as their ethnicity. In fact, since anime and/or crypto is what they’re buying, it could be reasoned that those things are their real identity.
With all that said, it would come as no surprise (not to me, anyway) if, in the future, one’s ethnicity is invented, not inherited. It’s not that the younger generations crave for a new identity. It’s that the older generations built this world, from which there was no cultural identity to inherit.
