Yao Jiaxin, a junior at Xi’an Conservatory of Music, who was sentenced to death for intentional homicide, was executed today. On the night of October 22, 2010, while driving in his own sedan, Yao hit and injured Zhang Miao, a 26-year old mother who was riding an electric bike. As he saw that Zhang was trying to get his plate number, Yao panicked and stabbed Zhang repeatedly to death with a knife. Yao was convicted and sentenced to death earlier this year. The Supreme Court approved his death penalty today, and he was executed afterwards.

Yao Jiaxin’s has been a high-profile case for many reasons. First of all, as a college student, he had his own car. When the media reported his case, many thought that his parents were powerful officials, which didn’t turn out to be the case. He was seen as a second Li Qiming, the son of Baoding City’s Police Deputy Chief Li Gang. Last October, Li Qiming killed a college student in an accident and claimed that his dad was Li Gang so nobody could touch him. Li Qiming’s case invoked waves of criticism from Chinese public, who are fed up with government officials’ abuse of power. Exposed by the media not long after Li’s case, Yao’s case fueled this anger in the public and took it to another level, especially when his victim was a powerless woman from a village who worked as a helper at a small restaurant. The public opinion, sadly, was predominated by the request for death penalty.

Another reason this case has attracted so much public attention has to do with the violent nature of the crime and the criminal’s identity as a young and promising college student. Yao was said to be a quiet young man, a gentle young pianist. Yet, in order to avoid responsibilities, he chose to kill an innocent injured woman with such violence. The public was shocked by his selfishness and lack of morality. The public has directed the blame on mostly the declining morality in Chinese society in general in Chinese’s crazy for material wealth. Others also blamed Yao’s parents and schools for not doing a good job and raised a “demon” in him. Yet others pointed out the unjust laws under which injuring someone in a car accident costs the responsible driver more than killing someone. Thus there’s a saying in China that “killing is better than injuring.”

As the public’s cry for Yao’s execution was getting louder every day, some Chinese, mostly intellects and law scholars, called for lenience and proposed to use death penalty cautiously if not banning it all together in China. However, the voice of this group of people seemed to be quite weak in the overwhelming discourse on the opposite side. Some angry netizens even accused those who opposed death penalty of being “wumao” (“fifty cents”) or the minions of those in power.

Yao’s execution today triggered another surge of online discourse. On weibo.com, Sina’s weibo (microblogging) site, Yao Jiaxin’s father, Yao Qingwei, has been posting weibos since Yao was convicted. Today, in one of his weibos he writes:

药家鑫之父药庆卫：Yao Jiaxin was executed today. We were waiting at home [for the notice] to bring back his body, but who knows that the Court didn’t let us view his body, but only asked us to wait for his ashes. I said for my child that he wouldn’t donate organs, because Professor Kong (Kong Qingdong, professor from Peking University – author’s notes) said that “Yao Jiaxin looked like a murderer,” and I was worried that Yao Jiaxin’s organs would do harm to others. I only wish that Yao Jiaxin’s death will wash away all of his sin, leaving nothing to harm this world.

Many netizens have responded to Yao Qingwei’s weibo. The sarcastic bitterness in this weibo and Yao Qingwei’s personal tragedy of losing a son won him sympathy from many netizens.

Microblogger 周伟良 writes:

In the end, both family were hurt. Yao papa, please accept my condolence.

Another, 斯凯迪歪, writes:

Yao Jiaxin was a criminal, but Yao Qingwei is only a father. Just as @贺卫方 said, we can sentence a person to death penalty by law, but can’t we refrain from celebrating the execution of one of us with a public fiesta? In the same sense, we can feel that our demand was met, but can’t we stop shouting out our opinions on the weibo of a father who just lost his son?

Others criticized the authority for their insensitivity to Yao’s family. For instance, 梁嘉璟_Ken writes:

Why not show some respect to the family of the deceased?! Even the family of the executed!

蔡文狄vendy writes:

This is helpless. Chinese laws are this inhumane. The belief in “an eye for an eye” has been deeply rooted in China. Live well, and be a model for China’s more humane laws in the future.

Some netizens, unsurprisingly, suspect that there’s some sort of conspiracy on the part of the authority to harvest Yao’s organs for sale.

Microblogger 天涯赵瑜 writes:

Is it true as what they say that they wouldn’t let the family to get close (to the body), and take the opportunity to sale the organs of the executed criminal? What are the facts? If this is real, then it’s really unfair. Yao Jiaxin was executed, and has been punished for his crime, but not releasing the body to his parents is just too much.

There are also netizens who condemn death penalty as an inhumane, such as 蔡一哲, who writes:

Killing to stop killing. Bloody law! No human rights!

象考拉一样地生活着 writes:

Also Yao Jiaxin committed a crime, what happened has happened. Taking another perspective, I think: 1. Chinese law is not humane enough. 2. Public discourse sometimes can destroy people. 3. I see many netizens’ indifference, but although his parents were at fault, with so much pain after they lost their son, they deserve some condolence from others. Isn’t it that hard?

The microblogging above is right. Many netizens still believe that Yao’s father deserved the pain of losing a son because it’s his fault to have raised such a “beast.”

A timeline of Yao Jiaxin’s case

October 20, 2010 – Yao Jiaxin drove a sedan and hit Zhang Miao, who was riding on a electric bike moving in the same direction. Injured, Zhang tried to record Yao’s plate number. Panicked, Yao stabbed Zhang repeatedly to death with a knife and fled the scene afterwards. Later that night, Yao hit another two pedestrians, and was caught by passersby when he tried to run.

October 22, 2010 – Yao was arrested for the second hit-and-run accident, but he did not confess the first accident and the killing of Zhang.

October 23, 2010 – Accompanied by his parents, Yao turned himself in for killing Zhang. He was detained by the Xi’an police that night.

November 25, 2010 – Approved by the Xi’an prosecutorial authority, Yao was officially arrested for intentional homicide.

January 11, 2011 – Yao was charged with intentional homicide by Xi’an Prosecutor’s Office.

March 23, 2011 – Yao was tried in Xi’an Intermediate People’s Court for intentional homicide. He expressed remorse, and his attorney defended him by claiming his action as “passion killing” instead of intentional homicide.

April 22, 2011 – Xi’an Intermediate People’s Court ruled Yao guilty of intentional homicide. Yao was sentenced to death penalty, deprived of political rights for life, and responsible for a compensation of 45498.5 yuan to the victim’s family.

May 20, 2011 – Shannxi Province Superior People’s Court dismissed Yao’s appeal and sustained the original ruling. Yao’s sentence of death penalty was submitted to the Supreme Court for approval.

June 7, 2011 – The Supreme Court approved Yao’s death penalty. Yao was executed.

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Before I get into this issue, let me first give you some background. China has a severe shortage in organs for transplantation. It is reported that of the 1.5 million patients in China who need a transplant, only 10 thousand of them will receive one. Few organs used for transplantation are from voluntary donors upon death. Most of the transplants are from living donors, who are often related to the patients or recruited on the black market. Last year, throughout China, only 28 registered donors’ organs are harvested after their death. In 2009, the Red Cross launched a campaign for organ donation in ten provinces and cities across China, but the results were quite insignificant.

Registering organ donors with driver’s license application is part of the government’s effort to help solve the problem of organ shortage in China. However, the idea, which has worked well in countries such as the U.S., the U.K., and Australia, has faced with tremendous resistance from many Chinese. So what went wrong?

It certainly has to do with culture. Many Chinese believe that having to think about death when getting a driver’s license is inauspicious. In fact, emotionally, many Chinese can’t accept even the suggestion of the possibility of accident and death when they get their driver’s license.

A blogger wrote:

I am an “atheist,” but I believe this intent [to donate organs] can easily affect my mood, easily affect me so that when I drive later I won’t feel “sunny.” So, no matter how lightly the Health Ministry said [the intent] is “completely voluntary,” reasonably, I won’t sign up for this intent.

Another wrote:

Getting a driver’s license is also like starting a new chapter in life, especially for young people, another coming of age ceremony. At this ceremony, everybody is giving good wishes. If at this moment, the driver is asked to fill out an intent form for organ donation in case of an accident, it will make people uncomfortable, and even fearful.

To some people, asking about organ donation when getting a driver’s license equals to suggesting, as a blogger put it, “driving to death!”

This view is so pervasive in China that even a self-claimed physician wrote in his blog that asking drivers to sign the donor agreement “will depress people immediately, and leave scars in their hearts.” Then he continues to go down a slippery-slope road:

When they drive in the future, they will always think about one day their organs are going to be taken out. The thought of it makes me anxious. Once you sign the agreement, you’ll have to carry the burden for your life. How can someone live like this!! Very inauspicious.

This sort of panicky responses to the donor registration, although border on absurdity, are not rare online.

On a deeper level, organ donation is stigmatized in Chinese culture because it poses as a threat or contempt to the tradition of ancestor worship. In tradition Chinese culture, the body is a gift from the ancestors, and thus should be revered. Dismemberment is considered an insult to the ancestor and a very unfortunate thing that can happen to the deceased. There is a saying in Chinese, “siwuquanshi,” meaning “death without a whole body.” This is considered one of the most severe punishment and the most unfortunate fate for a person.

This notion of preserving body is one of the reasons why many Chinese oppose organ donation, like this blogger:

Personally I believe, organ transplantation should not exist. Our bodies and the skin are given by our parents. How can we give them away easily?

Another blogger, although agrees that organ donation is a “good thing,” admits that he won’t do it himself:

I am a conservative man from the countryside, even if I wanted to donate, I don’t think my parents would agree. Being filial should be put ahead of everything else, so I have to listen to my parents, our bodies, hair and skin are taken from our parents, we can’t decide on our own, had better think twice. So in the end, my opinion is that I won’t donate, but I don’t know if you will.

Although cultural traditions are a strong force in this debate, many observers believe that they can be overcome over time with education and as information about organ transplantation is more available for the public to access. However, this is only what it takes for Chinese public to accept the new policy. What’s more difficult to overcome are the public’s distrust in all levels government, public health and healthcare agencies, and the law enforcement and the fear that has grown out of this distrust. This distrust and fear are deeply rooted in China’s overall social and political climate as it charges forward with one of the most fast growing market economy in the world. The tension created in this climate has been an underlying cause of the growing anxiety in the Chinese public.

Some people criticized the organ donation system in China of being irresponsible and inefficient. They contribute the shortage to organs to the inefficient system rather than Chinese people’s unwillingness to donate. In fact, some people have lost faith in the entire organ donation system in China.

In response to this news one 163.com, a netizen wrote about her/his frustrating experience in the past when (s)he tried to register for donate marrow due to the inefficiency, poor management, and even indifference of the staff of China Marrow Donor Program. (S)he waited for a long time for the Red Cross to arrange the screening test, paid for it, which was very expensive, and donated some more money. Finally, (s)he’s registered. But after (s)he relocated to another city, she could not update her information and nobody with the Red Cross seemed to care to help her. She wrote:

[I] looked up their phone number online and called the Red Cross in Suzhou Province and the Red Cross in Jiangsu Province many times, requesting to update my contact information, but neither agency provided the service. They said they would contact me. They seemed to be very impatient with me, and hung up on me even before I finished talking. I don’t know how they could contact me without knowing my new contact information. Initially I thought donating stem cells could help saving lives and maybe a family, and thought it was worth it. But I was so naïve. In this system, it’s difficult! So, don’t just publicize the China Marrow Donor Program, or say that there’s a shortage of organs. We have to see what caused this, [what] caused us to lose the sense of security or compassion!

[S]he recounted another story she read, in which a corneal donor’s family tried to contact a hospital to harvest the organ, but because the doctors were not on duty, the donor’s family could only watch the corneal expire. After that, the family cancelled all of their organ donation registrations. mly412 wrote, “No matter what, now when they want me to register, I won’t. I’m afraid that my kindness gets trampled. Even after death one would be trampled by these lame people and this lame system.”

Organ transplantation costs 150,000 to 200,000 yuan ($21,500-$28,600) in China, and the whole process lacks transparency. Many Chinese worry that the hospitals will take this opportunity to make a profit on the donors. Many even think that it’s likely that the hospitals will put profit before people’s lives. A netizen wrote:

From now on, drivers must be careful! If you get into a serious accident and are sent to a hospital. The hospital checks online that you’re a donor, then they’ll stop saving you and announce that you’re dead. Then they will have organs for sale! The hospital can make a fortune!

Unfortunately, paranoid as it sounds, this is not an opinion of the minority. A netizen commented on 163.com:

Who can ensure that those in need can receive these organs for free, and ensure that these organs are not sold[?]

Another netizen wrote:

Even the dying are not spared. Whom did they donate their organs to? Who got the money?

And another wrote:

If there are cases where people are murdered for their organs, I won’t be surprised.

Some blame it to the declining moral principles in China as everybody is rushing to get rich. A blogger wrote:

In today’s China, there are beastie deeds happening every day, the milk powder scandal, the swage oil scandal, violent demolishing of residence, government corruption, and lastly the beef scandal and so on, countless facts all prove how low humanity has fallen in China today, far below the moral bottom line.

Behind all the fears is common people’s feeling of social injustice and a sense of powerlessness in a social system that is largely submitted to individuals’ power.

A netizen wrote:

I don’t want this to happen: when our car collides with that of a lingdao (government official), when we are sent to the hospital at the same time at the same time, the lingdao is more seriously injured, but I’m the one who dies and he lives. My families come, and they produce the agreement, I’m “beiziyuan” (“voluntaried” or forced to become voluntary).

In Chinese, bei denotes the passive voice. Like in the post above, I often see people use something like beisiwang (made dead), or beiziyuan. Chinese netizens’ coinage of these phrases in the passive voice shows how powerless they feel.

This feeling of powerlessness is expressed by another netizen:

This is horrifying, please don’t play us. I can’t be in charge of my organs. […] Surely this production line can create infinite profit. Your life is no longer controlled by you.

I have to note that this feeling of powerlessness and paranoia in these posts are more than just reaction to this single policy but is a ramification of the loss of confidence and trust in government and any governmental or social institutions in the general public in China today. Many netizens directly criticized the government and other institutions for their lack of ethics and credibility. A netizen wrote:

First fix government officials’ hearts, doctors’ ethics, traffic police’s professionalism, 120’s (emergency number) ethics, and then put (the policy) in practice. First elevate government’s credibility, its trustworthiness, elevate government agencies’ authority, and then put [the policy] in practice.

In their comments on the news, two netizens wrote:

– Is it possible that somebody has an accident on a trip, and when the family get there the organs are already taken.”

– Right, right. Those who can still be saved won’t be saved but get donated, the credibility in China is so low, why do we have to meet the international standard, our lives haven’t met the international standard!”

The latter comment is directed to the Health Ministry’s citation of other countries’ similar practice.

Finally, a netizen called for the government officials to first set the examples themselves before they require others to donate organs:

All these years, how many public servants and party members voluntarily donated organs? Or, as the entity that proposed this policy, how many people in the Health Ministry set the first examples? […] This time, can the staff members in the Health Ministry and other government agencies set an example for the common people?

I won’t claim that these quotations represent the public opinion on this issue in China completely and accurately, but I believe that they do reveal some serious social tensions in China. Personally, I hope this policy will be carried out. (Here I need to clarify with additional caution that this is a voluntary measure, and it is the drivers’ decision to make if they are willing to be a donor.) However, according to Huang, at this point, the policy is only a “concept.” Because other links in the organ donation system such as the process of getting the family’s consent and notarization still need to be improved, registering for donation alone will not likely to solve the problem of organ shortage in China. Nevertheless, Chinese public’s resistance to the policy, although based partly on panicky speculations and fear, is understandable and needs to be taken seriously, for a nation living in such anxiety, fear, and feeling of disfranchisement and insecurity is not going to go very far.

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