Oder is it?
You are surrounded by the people and places that make Beijing great. The Great Firewall has deprived you of access to much of the rest the world. As part of the “zero COVID” policy, you are swabbed and sterilized every day. You might also be the subject of an overly enthusiastic pat-down every morning, and a cheerful, computer-generated thanks each time a scanner records you moving from one room to another.
In such a world, even the smallest bit of agency is important.
An Olympics was held in a pandemic controlled by an authoritarian government in a way only that authoritarian states could pull off. Some stuck in the “closed loop”, found it in an elevator.
The “close the door” button.
This button is found in many elevators all over the world and it’s more frustrating than a hurry-up tool. It works well here and many other places in Asia.
Americans: Imagine all the times that you press, push, press that button to cut a few seconds off a already difficult arrival time at work. You end up cursing an inanimate object.
Not in Beijing.
You’re late for dinner at the restaurant, so why not use the plexiglass dividers that are thicker than hockey boards to separate you from your dining friends? The button can be pressed to give the illusion that you are doing your best.
Are you feeling rushed to get on the bus to reach the building at 250 feet (75m) from your hotel, but can’t walk there due to the rigidity of the Olympic bubble? The button.
A persistent robot is seen roaming around the hotel spraying a mist — believed to be some COVID-preventing compound — and heading for the elevator. It is easy to do.
You lose sight of how satisfying it is to acquire things in an instant world, where everything is at your fingertips.
If only for a second, the “close door” button will restore your faith.
