An Open Letter to the Esteemed Mr. Musk

 An Open Letter to the Esteemed Mr. Musk

Dear Mr. Musk,

Greetings!

Dear Mr. Musk, as a utterly impoverished and utterly unsuccessful failure writing this open letter to someone as extraordinarily wealthy and exceptionally great as yourself, I find it absurd myself. The gap between us is so vast that it’s not merely an offense to you—it feels more like I’m humiliating myself. After much hesitation, I’ve decided to boldly write this letter anyway. The first reason, of course, is that I’m thick-skinned—perhaps a bit shameless, even. Whether I’m humiliated or not doesn’t really matter. The second reason is that the odds of you actually seeing this letter are slim, making it more like me talking to myself—and if it’s just self-talk, it matters even less. On second thought, it seems the second reason is the same as the first: I’m thick-skinned, or shameless. I hope this makes you chuckle, Mr. Musk.

With the small talk out of the way, let’s get to the point. Dear Mr. Musk, in summary, I’d like to share three immature and shallow opinions in this letter. Please forgive any shortcomings. Initially, I wanted to sincerely shower you with some flattery—rainbow-colored praise—to avoid any chance of you misunderstanding me or thinking I bear you any ill will. But then I realized you’re someone who’s endured hardship and understands life. Flattery’s a tricky balance; it could easily backfire. So, I’ll skip it and get straight to my shallow opinions.

Dear Mr. Musk, my first opinion is that sometimes I vaguely feel you might have some misunderstandings about the Communist Party. I’m not entirely certain if you do, but out of respect for you, I’ll risk the presumption and write it down anyway—forgive me if it amuses you.

Dear Mr. Musk, I vaguely feel you might misunderstand the Communist Party’s authoritarianism.

Is the Communist Party’s authoritarianism the theoretical or traditional kind? No. In this day and age, its authoritarianism—and that of all other authoritarian regimes—differs somewhat from the theoretical or traditional definitions. Due to information and the times, the Communist Party’s authoritarianism has become more abstract, abstract to the point of overflowing with moral superiority. To understand it, and all authoritarian regimes, you should look at the “holy radiance” they claim emanates from their heads. Only then can you see it more clearly or comprehend it better. Take the Communist Party as an example: it’s no exaggeration to say that, within and beyond its domain, only those who can see this “holy radiance” shining from its head—or at least pretend to—can become its friends and reap tangible benefits. Those who can’t see it can’t be its friends; it’s not even an overstatement to call them potential enemies. Think about it: anyone or any group that doesn’t see this “holy radiance” could expose the fact that it doesn’t exist, or even prove its halo is fake. That won’t do! It needs this “holy radiance” not only as an efficient tool to manipulate those it rules but also as a fancy toy to deceive itself—and believe its own lie.

Dear Mr. Musk, I vaguely feel that if you’re purely considering your investments or efforts within the Communist Party’s domain from a cost-benefit perspective, there’s risk—or rather, a misunderstanding might be more apt.

To put it bluntly, from a cost-benefit angle, you might not care much about that money. Fundamentally, the Communist Party cares even less about your money. But with one misstep, you could become the bad guy in the eyes—and hearts—of at least hundreds of millions of people. They’d harbor malice toward you, and the laughable part is that this malice has nothing to do with whether you’re truly good or bad—it hinges solely on how the Communist Party frames you. It sounds a bit off, but it’s the reality. The Communist Party has a system—not necessarily sophisticated, but very stable—of theories and practical tactics. They’re experts at turning good into bad and dressing up shamelessness as righteousness. Pick up any textbook within their domain mentioning someone of your stature—university, high school, even elementary—and you’re already on the “bad” side. If something goes wrong, it’s child’s play for them to spin it. Of course, you might not care about that money, and at your level and perspective, you could even ignore the opinions—or humanity—of people from a world so distant it feels like another planet. But for someone as refined as you, I doubt you’d want so many people—some out of shamelessness, most out of ignorance—bearing you ill will. That’s roughly the misunderstanding I mean.

Dear Mr. Musk, you improve待遇 for employees working for you within the Communist Party’s domain, you lower your product prices, you do your utmost to perfect everything, and you stay true to your original mission. I vaguely feel you might have an impulse to create a virtuous cycle, even a demonstration effect, within the authoritarian realm of the Communist Party. If you do have that impulse, you’ve truly misunderstood.

Within the Communist Party’s domain, a virtuous cycle can only possibly stem from—and only possibly stem from—the Party’s “great leadership.” Anything else is just a pipedream. A long-lasting virtuous cycle? That’s not a dream—it’s an outright impossible delusion. Likewise, in their domain, “original mission” is something only the Communist Party deserves, something only its senior cadres deserve. Otherwise, trouble’s bound to follow. If you don’t believe me, you could ask the gentleman from “Where Is He?” Haha, sorry, my apologies—couldn’t resist. On this point, I’d like to add something extra: in my heart, you’re a good person, someone kind to the world, including to China—a helper to the good. To put it mildly, you’re one of God’s gifts. Dear Mr. Musk, the “one of” here is purely out of respect for you. In that same spirit, I’d like to explain—or rather, request—something using an old Chinese saying: “A good person sees it through to the end, just as one sends Buddha to the West.” In the Communist Party’s domain, if you want to do great good, you might need to earn as much as possible, then, if feasible, take out those who’ve worked for you long-term and want to leave—let them experience the choice most of the rich in that domain make. That would be the greatest good. It’s like the good the U.S. government did a century ago, using the Boxer Indemnity to establish schools here—a perfect choice.

Dear Mr. Musk, my second opinion is that, fundamentally, you—or the scientific technology you represent, especially communication tech like Starlink—are one of the Communist Party’s most dangerous enemies. Perhaps the “one of” could even be omitted, but since the future is uncertain, keeping it feels more rigorous. As for your current cooperation with the Communist Party, maybe it hasn’t fully realized this yet—or it has, but given the current technological limitations, the danger remains within its control, so it’s not overly worried. Regardless, it doesn’t change the reasonable conclusion that you, or the technology you represent, are one of its most dangerous foes.

How do I justify this? First, the conflict between the Communist Party’s inherent public ownership bias and the private nature of your technology isn’t the most compelling proof, but it’s a minor factor. Second, the clash between the closed nature required for the Communist Party’s theoretical foundation and the openness of your technology isn’t the strongest proof either, but it’s a slightly bigger factor than the first. Third, the conflict between the “holy radiance” atop the Communist Party’s head and the truth-seeking essence of your technology is the most reasonable and critical proof. Think about it: no matter how perfect that “holy radiance” is—even if it mimics the light of God—it’s not God. Not being God, it needs to fake it. But your technology can’t fake it, so conflict is inevitable. And your technology can’t just stay still—it moves forward, fast or slow. So, it’s reasonable to say you, or your technology, are its most dangerous enemy. As for how reasonable, from my personal view, it depends on how long I live. How you see it—or whether you see it—doesn’t diminish your greatness.

Dear Mr. Musk, my third opinion is simple and perhaps unrelated to you, but I’ll boldly share it anyway. Have you heard the rumor in China that Napoleon, the great figure of the 18th century, said, “China is a sleeping lion; let her sleep”? Whether you’ve heard it or not, I know it’s just a rumor—Napoleon, great as he was, wouldn’t have made such a far-reaching, slightly detached prophecy in his time. What I mean is that the first half of that saying fits today’s China quite well. As for the second half, I can only console my broken heart with “good things take time,” hoping God and the spirits show mercy and wake her soon. Forgive my foolishness, dear Mr. Musk.

Dear Mr. Musk, that’s about all I wanted to say. It’s not many words, but it took a while to write—my mind’s a bit wooden, and my wooden head insists I bear you no ill will, only respect upon respect. But I admit I’m a bad person. An irrelevant excuse: my circumstances don’t allow me to be good.

At the end of this open letter, I still think the odds of you seeing it are slim. But I’ll wish you anyway: good health, all your wishes fulfilled, everything going your way!

By the way, I’ve used a format I’m comfortable with, knowing you’re practical and not big on formality—another big difference between you and the Communist Party. Dear Mr. Musk, I’ll stop here—too much talking already.

Once more, I wish you: good health, family harmony, and daily contentment!

Yours sincerely,

With utmost respect!

May 11, 2023, Thursday