[2] About the Author

Lawyer Zhang Yong, a senior lawyer at Guangdong Zhiming Law Firm, is proficient in law, economics, and foreign languages, holding certifications such as CPA and CET-6. He has long served as the CLO of a US company and as a foreign-related legal advisor for multiple Shenzhen companies, with extensive experience in both litigation and non-litigation matters.

Perhaps due to menopause, I've been involuntarily recalling many past events lately, always pondering the meaning of my life. It all started a week ago with a student I taught twenty-seven years ago. This student managed to get my WeChat contact, reached out, and expressed much gratitude for my teaching, even using flattering words like "teacher" and "perfect person in my heart," which made me feel embarrassed. I sighed to myself: what a naive child! Not only was I far from a "perfect" teacher back then—and I'm still far from a "perfect" lawyer now—but in fact, there are no so-called "perfect" people or things in this world!

I'm somewhat curious about why a child (then a junior high school student) would idealize an ordinary teacher in their mind and maintain this simple emotional perception unchanged for decades. At that time, this student was relatively individualistic (meaning willful and disobedient), though clever with hands, good at singing and dancing, but had poor academic performance. In today's more open and value-diverse era, they would receive much tolerance and encouragement, but in the rural inland schools nearly thirty years ago, when exam-oriented education was at its peak, it's easy to imagine they got little favor or kindness from teachers. I was the homeroom teacher then, and due to my personality, I was particularly tolerant and caring toward students—just for this, by the standard of "strict teachers produce outstanding students," I wouldn't even be considered a good teacher. This child likely accidentally received some touching kindness and warmth from me, and in their tender heart, naturally developed that overly idealized emotional perception. It's like someone struggling through a desert, who by chance finds a clear spring to drink from or a large tree's shade for shelter, and believes they've encountered the sweetest spring and the most perfect shade, without noticing harmful microbes or chemicals in the spring, or caring about the dead branches, fallen leaves, and borers in the tree.

Looking back, I dropped out after junior high, became a farmer for four years, sporadically self-studied some English, and then around my 20th birthday in March 1985, I went to this rural junior high school to work as a substitute English teacher, a job I held for seven and a half years. It's easy to imagine how lacking in knowledge, low in skill, and narrow in thinking I was as a teacher back then! Relying only on a bit of sincerity, kindness, and integrity, I still earned widespread trust and recognition from students, parents, and colleagues. Later, when I left teaching and entered society, I deeply felt that society needs all kinds of talents and a person needs various abilities, and I began to feel guilt and regret: It's a pity that when I was a teacher, I only judged students by their academic performance and only taught them some basically useless book knowledge. If I could start over, would I try to be a very different teacher? What's even more chilling is that the seven and a half years starting from "the last day of being nineteen" as a substitute teacher coincided with my most precious youth, what could be called "golden years," a time of burning passion—no exaggeration. Was I just wasting time and misleading students all along?

This brings us back to the fundamental question: What is the value of a person? What is the meaning of life? How should one live in a specific social environment to maximize their value? What actions constitute a meaningful life?

Speaking of human value, there is a popular term now: "net worth." For example, according to the latest 2018 Forbes rich list, Bill Gates has a net worth of $90 billion, Ma Huateng $45.3 billion, and Jack Ma $39 billion. Here, "net worth" actually refers to a person's "net assets" (total assets minus total liabilities). Similarly, banks and financial institutions like to use terms like "high-net-worth clients." From a semantic perspective, human value is not the same as net worth, but using money to measure human value is a key feature of modern society. I was once very interested in finance, and in the past two years, I have read several popular financial books by Chen Zhiwu, such as "The Logic of Finance" and "The Logic of Wealth," as well as somewhat sensational works like "The World Is a Financial History," "China Is a Financial History," and "Currency Wars." Financial history tells us that measuring human value with money is closely related to the high degree of monetization in modern society, which itself accompanies commercialization. Without requiring professional precision, we can say that commercialization and monetization, like two sides of a coin, mean that all "things" useful to humans have become commodities purchasable with money. High monetization is not only a key indicator of social and economic progress but also a benchmark of social freedom and a prerequisite for personal freedom! These words may sound exaggerated or shocking, but those of us who experienced the planned economy era (an era of material scarcity, i.e., insufficient commercialization and monetization) have personal experience to testify: In that era, if you went out with money, you might not be able to buy a meal; you also needed ration coupons for grain! Want new clothes? Money alone wasn't enough; you needed cloth coupons. Want to eat meat? Money alone wasn't enough; you needed meat coupons. In other words, even the most basic necessities of life were not fully commercialized or monetized. How much freedom could people have? Paradoxically, in an era of insufficient commercialization and monetization, we had little money and could buy even fewer things with it; today, in an era of high commercialization and monetization, we have a lot of money, but there are even more things we need to buy with it.

Full monetization is the prerequisite for human freedom and liberation, which actually implies another meaning: "all men are equal before money"—100 yuan (RMB, same below) of a poor person and 100 yuan of a wealthy person have equal purchasing power; 100 yuan of a beggar and 100 yuan of a prince are theoretically equal in value. This point is crucial, yet people have overlooked it because they are too fixated on the fact that the poor only have 100 yuan in currency, while the super-rich have 10 billion yuan! So, when Chen Zhiwu repeatedly emphasizes that high monetization benefits the poor more than the wealthy and privileged classes, ordinary people find it hard to emotionally accept the truth in it. However, I firmly believe it, as I have personal experience to prove it: when I changed careers to become a lawyer at over forty, I came to Shenzhen alone, penniless and knowing no one. Worse, I had to endure a probation period of over a year with little income before I could obtain my lawyer's license. Unwilling to burden my family and friends further, I interned at a law firm while doing part-time English translation work. Thanks to Shenzhen, a highly commercialized and monetized city, I easily solved my basic survival problems. This is the benefit of full commercialization and monetization: as long as you have a skill, something useful to others and society, a highly commercialized and monetized society offers ample opportunities to "cash in" on that skill, realizing your value as a human. Isn't this beneficial to the poor?

Full monetization is the prerequisite for human freedom, but excessive monetization can lead to the alienation of individuals and society. Modern humans are a contradictory "thing," enjoying the convenience of high monetization while complaining in some corner of their hearts that many human things should not be bought or exchanged with money. For example, buying sexual services with money is common and even legalized in some countries. But can money buy "true love"? I think most people's instinctive answer is: No! That is, people believe "love" should not be commercialized or monetized. Yet the objective fact is that "tall, rich, and handsome" men have a far higher success rate in obtaining excellent partners as lifelong companions than "short, poor, and ugly" men. Not to mention the countless monetary considerations like owning a house and car for dating, or "bride price" for marriage. Thus, it must be admitted that since ancient times, worldly "love" has been more or less directly or indirectly commercialized and monetized, and kind-hearted people can only experience the beauty and preciousness of "true love" in timeless literary classics like "Liang Shanbo and Zhu Yingtai" and "Romeo and Juliet."

Commodification and monetization have many benefits, and even humans themselves are, to some extent and in certain aspects, commodified and monetized. Isn't there talk of "human capital" and "the labor market"? Treating a person (or certain aspects of them) as a commodity might not be an unforgivable sin, right? But how can "human value" be monetized? A few years ago, to pass the CPA exam, I worked hard on studying financial management. One knowledge point I still remember well is using the discounted cash flow method to determine the value of an asset—that is, pricing the asset. I think, if—I mean "if"—a person is an asset, then this person's value (referring to their current value, i.e., present value) is the amount obtained by discounting the net cash flows they are expected to generate in the future (cash inflows minus cash outflows) at a certain discount rate (interest rate). Perhaps this notion of "human value" determined by the discounted cash flow method might offend you, because it seems too inhumane. But don't forget, the theoretical basis behind the personal injury compensation standards we lawyers are familiar with (especially the most important items like death compensation or disability compensation)—though rarely explicitly stated—is precisely this discounted cash flow method. People say that human life and health are priceless, meaning they cannot be monetized. However, when courts hear personal injury compensation cases, they must make a "monetized" judgment (i.e., determine a specific compensation amount), so they have to "go against their conscience" and assume that human life and health have a price, and that this "price" roughly equals the discounted present value of the net cash flows the person would have been expected to generate (if they were alive and healthy). Accompanying this pragmatic approach is the moral controversy over "different prices for the same life," which touches on the fundamental issue of life's dignity! The current common practice in Chinese courts, when determining personal injury compensation, basically does not consider individual income differences. This follows the principle of "same price for the same life," whether it is fair or not is another matter. But it does consider regional average income differences, which is again a practice of "different prices for the same life." It seems that the related moral controversies and debates over fairness and efficiency will continue.

The ancient Greek sophist Protagoras said: "Man is the measure of all things." His original meaning was that the existence or non-existence of things is relative to humans. If we stretch it a bit, we can also say that the value of things is relative to humans; things useful to humans have value, otherwise they have none. Similarly, we can say that a person's value lies in their usefulness to others (and to society as a whole). With the development and progress of the social economy, things valuable to humans will inevitably be commodified and monetized. Likewise, in a highly monetized modern society, humans are still the measure of all things, but inevitably, money has become the measure of humans (their value), though not the only measure, it is a very important, even the most important one. In plain language, how much a person earns largely determines the size of their value. This is already a widespread and widely accepted objective fact in our society, isn't it?

But the problem is that humans are multidimensional and complex beings, and their value cannot be fully monetized. For example, is a father's value to his family solely measured by the monetary income he brings? His filial piety to his elders, his love and care for his wife, and his guidance and upbringing of his children—these values clearly cannot be monetized, or at least not entirely. More importantly, the market for exchanging human value may suffer from severe market failures, especially when incentive and constraint mechanisms (such as legal systems) are inadequate. A person could increase their monetary income (net cash flow) through deception and fraud, but that obviously does not enhance their value as a human being, as such behavior creates no utility for others or society as a whole! The most extreme manifestation of market failure is probably the inverted and chaotic state of human value described by the saying, "The murderer and arsonist wears a golden belt, while the bridge-builder and road-mender lies without a corpse."

Confucius said: "When the state is well-governed, poverty and lowliness are a disgrace. When the state is ill-governed, wealth and honor are a disgrace." If Confucius lived in contemporary Chinese society, would he approve of people striving to make money to fully realize their human value? I think he would. Because, though far from perfect, China is gradually developing into a highly commercialized and monetized market economy under the rule of law, which might be considered a "well-governed state" by Confucius. In such a great "new era," if you do not work hard to fully realize your human value and still live in "poverty and lowliness," Confucius would consider it shameful. Note that Confucius used "poverty and lowliness" and "wealth and honor" rather than just "poverty" and "wealth" to describe human value. The old master was truly a sage, knowing thousands of years ago that human value includes both monetizable parts ("poverty" and "wealth") and non-monetizable parts ("lowliness" and "honor"). He also knew that the non-monetizable part of human value is generally recognized and measured by society through honor and status—what is meant by "lowliness" and "nobility." Speaking of honor and status, the degree to which human value can be monetized also depends on the specific work a person does in a particular society. For example, the value of a teacher is generally far less monetizable than that of a lawyer. As compensation, society grants teachers, known as "gardeners" and "engineers of the human soul," higher honor and status than lawyers, often called "shysters" and "devil's advocates." Similarly, the value of civil servants is strictly limited by law in terms of monetization, because the public power they exercise on behalf of the people is not a commodity purchasable with money—otherwise, it would be corruption.

Returning to the point, according to Confucius's teachings, in a relatively fair market economy that is sufficiently (but not excessively) commercialized and monetized, as long as you basically adhere to the market rule of law based on honesty and credit, the more money you earn, the more it proves your usefulness to others and society, and thus your value as a human being. However, given the limitations of using money as a measure of human value, especially the severity of market failures in the exchange of human value, never judge a person's worth solely by how much money they make. Do not lose your psychological balance or composure just because you follow the principle of honesty and credit or have bad luck in market fluctuations and earn less, while others violate that principle or have good luck and earn more. Otherwise, whether you earn a lot or a little, you will not enjoy true happiness and fulfillment, because you may have been kidnapped by money, becoming its hostage or slave! That said, is it perhaps inevitable that money sweeps and rules everything?

As a lawyer, I often encounter all kinds of people—from the poor who struggle to pay a thousand yuan in legal fees to the wealthy worth tens of millions or hundreds of millions. I have found that, as Rousseau said: "Man is born free, but everywhere he is in chains"—in the chains of money! The poor toil and labor day and night to increase their cash holdings, while the rich are compelled to rush around to preserve and grow their massive wealth. "The world bustles with activity, all for profit; the world hustles and bustles, all for gain." Commercialization and monetization bring freedom, yet also take it away. Having long been immersed in a highly commercialized and monetized society, we have subconsciously bowed and surrendered to the magical power of money. As early as the Western Jin dynasty, 1,500 years ago, a peculiar work like "The Treatise on the Money God" appeared, showing that worshiping "Brother Square Hole" as a deity is nothing new. Since Deng Xiaoping's reform and opening-up restarted China's commercialization and monetization process, in just forty years, hasn't the saying "If money can solve a problem, it's not a problem" become popular? Ask yourself: Don't we—at least subconsciously—attribute all our current dissatisfactions to one cause: not having enough money? Reflect further: Isn't every solution we devise for life's problems—even emotional ones—directly or indirectly related to spending money? For example, the issue of filial piety to elders. I think of my recently deceased mother. In her later years, she was in poor health and bedridden for a long time. Fortunately, my father could take good care of her, relieving us children of worries. Every time we visited her, we would unconsciously buy her something—sometimes things she didn't need—or give her money that she could never spend herself. She was happy to receive our gifts and money, a monetized form of filial piety. But it was obvious that what she wanted most was for us to stay by her side and chat. Yet we children, being slaves to money, couldn't stay long, so we thoughtlessly monetized our filial piety, gave her some money, and then, relieved and at ease, hurried away from her, mostly to have time to earn more money. But can we truly be at ease? Why do I still harbor regret for not finding time to visit her last spring when she was suffering from her final illness?

In fact, when we often talk about human value and inquire into the meaning of life, what we care about is not a person's monetized "worth" or the discounted present value of their future net cash flows, but rather something spiritual—something that cannot be monetized, or at least not fully monetized, no matter how commodified and monetized our society becomes. Take the student mentioned earlier as an example: a middle school student, having received a bit of kindness and care from a teacher, carried the memory of that warmth and gratitude for twenty-seven years. This shows how immensely "valuable" a small act of kindness and care from one person to another can be! Who can answer: how much is this "kindness and care" worth?

For someone like me, in my fifties, who has lived through China's rapid commodification and monetization over the past forty years, confusion, hesitation, struggle, and striving—each person may have a "legendary" story of commodification and monetization behind them. The beginnings of these stories are likely similar, but the outcomes can be very different, depending on one's monetized "worth." As I mentioned, I worked as a rural middle school teacher for seven and a half years, later became a "public" teacher after training at a normal college, taught at another rural high school for seven years, then pursued a graduate degree in civil and commercial law, and switched careers to become a lawyer at age forty. Looking back, the biggest challenge I faced when changing careers was how to quickly adapt to a highly commodified and monetized work model. For instance, as a responsible teacher, when you notice a student's performance at school fluctuating significantly, you usually talk to them after class and provide extensive guidance and counseling, without ever thinking—nor should you—of charging the student or their parents for this extra "talk." People judge a teacher's quality by their selfless care and dedication to students, the value of which is hard to fully monetize into a teacher's salary. However, as a lawyer, when you "talk" with a client and provide legal advice, charging consultation fees is standard in the legal profession. A common "mistake" I made early in my career change was serving clients with the same selfless care I had for students, which often resulted in earning below the average lawyer's income. A more serious "mistake" was unconsciously treating clients with the same heartfelt sincerity I had for my students, forgetting the worldly advice that "the client is the lawyer's greatest enemy." This "kindness" and "naivety" sometimes led to unfavorable outcomes, even dragging down other colleagues on the legal team. Worse still, this "kindness" and "naivety" are inherent to my nature, a natural expression of a kind personality shaped by my family upbringing and other factors in childhood. In the early years of my career change, the conflict between my nature and the lawyer's work model caused severe psychological anxiety. Fortunately, I soon figured things out and set a behavioral guideline to balance both sides: "Realize one's own value (as a lawyer) by creating value for clients," which barely restored my psychological balance. In this guideline, "realize one's own value" mainly refers to the monetization of human value, i.e., the lawyer fees earned, while "creating value for clients" emphasizes strictly adhering to the market principle of honest and fair exchange, ensuring that the legal services provided are "useful" (i.e., "valuable") to clients in exchange for their payment. Although this guideline implies the market principle of "equivalent exchange," in practice, I often consciously or unconsciously strive to ensure that the "value created for clients" exceeds the "value realized for myself," to achieve better "psychological balance," because "giving is always more joyful than taking"—who can deny that? And it is precisely because of this subconscious adherence to the principle of "value created for clients" exceeding "value realized for myself" that I once, in a moment of inflated pride and vanity, boasted to my wife and child—every father has moments of "playing the hero" before his wife and child—saying: "I never worry about my boss firing me (or clients not hiring me), because that would be their loss, not mine!"

More than a decade has passed, and it’s hard to say I’ve fully adapted to the completely commodified and monetized work model of a lawyer. Sometimes I feel pessimistic, thinking that a leopard can’t change its spots, and the ancient Chinese saying “After forty, one should not learn new skills (or change careers)” is probably right, while the Western proverb “Life begins at forty” might just be wishful thinking on the part of aging men lost in fantasy.

In this era where “money is the measure of man,” like everyone else, I often fantasize about making a fortune, living in a villa, and driving a luxury car, but I also console myself: If I made big money, lived in a villa, and drove a luxury car, would I definitely feel happier than I do now? Whenever I’m troubled by earning too little money, start doubting my value, and question the meaning of life, an English poem I read years ago pops into my mind, though I can never recall it fully. So, each time I think of it, I search online using the line I remember best: “I shall not live in vain.” The complete poem I find is Emily Dickinson’s “If I Can Stop One Heart From Breaking.” If you study this poem closely, you’ll realize that someone who can’t stop thinking about it can only be a sentimental person who overly pursues “peace of mind” and always shows “soft-heartedness” in small matters—destined for a lifetime of never achieving “big” things or making “big” money!

So what?