China Private Equity

Newspapers, as everyone knows by now, are a crummy business, being slowly but surely pounded to death by two major forces they can’t control. First, news is now available for free, instantly, online. So, no need to wait for – and pay for — tomorrow’s newspaper to find out what’s happened today. At the same time, Google and Craigslist have created a far more efficient, and generally far cheaper,  form of advertising online than traditional print advertising.

On the whole, it’s a very gloomy picture. But, there is one new newspaper business model that not only goes from strength to strength, it will likely continue to make big money for many years to come. It’s the free newspapers distributed on subway and metro systems. The first one appeared in Sweden in 1995. Shenzhen, where I live, this year got its first entrant, called “地铁早8点”( “8 O’clock” in English). These free newspapers seem inoculated from every pathogen that is killing off the big urban newspapers around the world like the New York Times, LA Times, Le Monde, South China Morning Post. 

Start with the fact they are free. That certainly makes it easier to find readers. Next, there’s guaranteed, efficient and low-cost distribution. In the case of 8 O’clock， the paper is handed out by reps or left in big piles weekday mornings at many of Shenzhen’s 137 subway stations. Based on my daily subway commute, I’d say the newspaper is now being read by well over 60% of the people on my morning rush-hour train. The newspaper is bulging with ads. By any standards, this is a both a business success and a repudiation of the notion that print newspapers are sledding towards extinction.

The key to success for 8 O’Clock is knowing who its readers are and what they want to read about. 8 O’Clock, like most free subway newspapers, attracts mainly under-40 office workers. They have very clear editorial tastes, and these differ in some key ways from the many newspapers that are now headed for the boneyard. For one thing, 8 O’clock doesn’t try to break major stories or even stay current on political or economic stories fighting for headlines elsewhere. Instead, it offers its readers a mix of brief articles about celebrities, sports stars, oddball “human interest” tales and the occasional local scandal. Around half of each page is pictures, either advertising copy or outsized art work accompanying the short articles.

8 O’Clock is owned by the biggest traditional newspaper publishing company in Shenzhen, called Shenzhen Press Group. It has ten other newspapers in Shenzhen, all using the conventional paid-circulation model. This offers some obvious traps for Shenzhen Press Group, most obviously in selling a product at newsstands with some strong similarities to the one it’s giving away for free in subway stations.  But, against that, Shenzhen Press Group is reaching people with 8 O’clock that most likely never buy paid-for newspapers. What’s more, Shenzhen Press Group already has an in-house advertising team and deep knowledge of the local market to sell ads efficiently in 8 O’Clock. A full-page color ad sells for around USD$25,000-$35,000, depending on the day of the week and placement. Readership is somewhere around 300,000 a day.

Beijing, Shanghai, Shenyang and Guangzhou all have their own free subway newspapers. All seem to be thriving.  Other countries also have them, including US, UK, Germany.

China is the ideal place for free subway-distributed newspapers to thrive. Start with the fact, of course, its cities are huge and subway ridership dwarves that of most Western cities. But, as important, the newspaper industry in China is relatively new. Chinese aren’t imprinted in the way that so many Americans and Europeans are about what newspapers are for. The popular ones see themselves, unashamedly, as for-profit vehicles: an effective advertising medium. Not as a civic trust.

The editorial goal is to get enough people reading articles at the top of the page to deliver big audiences, efficiently, for the advertisers renting space at the bottom. For 8 O’clock, the advertisers are mainly large auto brands, hospitals, realtors and big chain stores all of whose businesses are thriving in China’s booming domestic economy. 

In cities like Shenzhen, Shanghai and Beijing, purchasing power, along with property prices, are reaching first world levels. There’s massive net migration into large cities in China, compared with stagnant, or declining populations in most big Western cities. The subway systems are themselves mainly new, with extensive networks – 14 lines in Beijing, 11 in Shanghai, five in Shenzhen, with two more on the way. As the systems grow, so too will the profits of the free subway newspapers like 8 O’clock.

A generation ago, there was basically only one newspaper of any importance and readership in China, the Communist Party’s People’s Daily (“人民日报”).  It’s still published, and has changed little down the years, a slim sheaf of turgid and often theoretical writing barely leavened by photos or ads. Meanwhile, thousands of newspapers and magazines have entered the market with a broad range of content.

All major media in China are still subject to censorship and, in theory, under the control of the Party’s propaganda department. But, 8 O’clock has ample scope to provide what Shenzhen’s subway commuters are after, at a price they can’t argue with.  A financially healthy newspaper serving a financially prospering city– 8 O’clock will keep waltzing compared to the wretched papers in the US and Europe.

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After 30 years of economic progress unparalleled in human history, China can rewrite the rules on which leading economic indicators are most important to track.  I want to nominate a new one: the rate at which brothels are converted to beauty parlors.

At least in my Shenzhen neighborhood, this indicator is certainly at an all-time high. In the last four months, two rather seedy massage and KTV parlors have undergone very lavish renovation and reopened as large, expensive, multi-floored hair-dressing salons.

The clear implication: you can make more money in China these days selling perms and dye jobs than selling sex. This is an economic change in China of historic, if under-appreciated, importance.

Shenzhen has long had a reputation as one of the red light capitals of China. Some of the reasons: proximity to Hong Kong, a transient population made up largely of economic migrants, a local government with more of a laissez-faire attitude than elsewhere in China.

I can’t imagine anyone but the local police are keeping count, but I’d guess there must be thousands of places in the city offering sex for cash. These range from tiny storefronts with five to ten girls in folding chairs, to all manner of sauna, massage and KTV joints, most, but not all of which, augment their more legitimate offerings with the paid option to take one of the hostesses home with you, or do a little groping on the premises.

Or so I’m told. I know it may sound either prudish or disingenuous, but I’ve never been a customer of one of these places. I do, however, marvel at the variety and number of places selling sex here. The five-minute walk from my house to the local supermarket takes me past two big neon-lit places, called 会所, or “clubs” with touts out front and some heavily made-up ladies within. Down two smaller alleys are small storefront brothels.

In the building where I live, one of the fancier ones in my neighborhood, business cards are slipped under my door most every night offering “home delivery services”. They stress the a variety of women available, including  nurses, college students, migrants, mistresses, foreigners.

This is the part of Shenzhen’s sex trade I most deeply object to. The cards are put under every door. The photos on the card are of naked women.  My next-door neighbors include Chinese families with young kids. It’s unseemly, and I’ve complained numerous times to the doormen, but they claim not to know who is responsible for distributing the cards. My guess is they are paid to look the other way.

The economics of hair-dressing are certainly more favorable than the economics of prostitution. It’s not unusual for a woman to spend Rmb200-300 or more on a haircut and shampoo. Get your hair colored and the price can double. Though there are already dozens of hair salons in my neighborhood, they all seem to be jam-packed at all hours of the day. That never looks to be the case of the places selling sex. They always seem empty, over-staffed and under-patronized.

One thing hairdressers and brothels have in common,  the busiest time is 9pm-1am. Hairdressers, most of whom are men, earn a pretty good living, making around USD$1,000 a month. But, they work long hours, usually 12 hours a day. Most of the customers are women, but these places also cater to men. I pay Rmb 50 for a haircut and no shampoo. That’s a little less than the cost of a haircut at the joint I used to go to in LA’s Koreatown.

Every new beauty parlor that opens is confirmation of some larger economic trends in China.  Women have more disposable income, and more of an inclination to spend it on fashion, cosmetics, or a new hairstyle.  Prices are quickly reaching levels similar to those in the US. In Shenzhen, a young woman can now easily earn as much every month sitting at a desk in an office as sitting in a storefront brothel. That is probably a change from a few years ago.

China’s economy is changing quickly from export-dependence to a reliance on the domestic market, from dominance of manufacturing to the rise of the service sector. In my part of Shenzhen, what’s changing most quickly: who is serving what to whom for how much.

Can a technology invented in the US by General Electric 48 years ago give China its best shot at worldwide technological leadership? There are a lot of Chinese companies, entrepreneurs, investors, as well as billions of dollars in Chinese government money betting this is the case.

The technology is the Light Emitting Diode, or LED. Since their invention a half-century ago in Syracuse, New York, lots of otherwise smart people have been predicting LEDs would replace the traditional incandescent lights perfected by Thomas Edison well over a century ago as a primary source of illumination.

LEDs have numerous advantages – the key ones being they last longer than traditional incandescent and neon bulbs and use much less energy to produce the same amount of light.

In other words, LED sound like a sure thing. Problem is, they are almost as tricky to manufacture as integrated circuits, and so exponentially more expensive to produce than conventional bulbs. LED technology has improved dramatically over the years, but they are solid-state devices, made using a complicated semiconductor-layering technique.

The lights require lots of complex circuitry and heat sinks, and are very susceptible to changes in temperature. Each individual LED is about the size of a Christmas light, and produces a relatively small amount of light. So, an LED  with the same output of a typical street light will actually have dozens of small LEDs pinched together on a single stalk.

Like the non-polluting 500-mile-per-gallon auto engine and supersonic passenger jets, the era of universal, efficient, energy-saving LED lighting is another much-predicted part of our future that never seems to arrive.

Except, that is, in China. Here, there is abundant optimism that the commercial market for LED lighting is about to explode, and that Chinese companies will be the worldwide leaders in a new multi-billion-dollar industry.

There are more LED companies in China, and more investment flowing into them, than anywhere else in the world. On Alibaba.com, there are about two million Chinese companies selling LED products, a hundred times more than Taiwanese companies offering LED products. In Shenzhen where I live, there are 280,000 companies listed on Alibaba offering LED lamps and bulbs.

Last year, I went to one of the main trade shows for the industry in China, and hundreds of companies were crowded into the exhibition space. The majority of them were offering LED street and traffic lights, and systems to control them.

Looking at this, you’d imagine that just about every busy intersection in China was already controlled by an LED traffic light. That isn’t so today. Though the technology is well-developed, LED traffic lights are still very rare. But, the Chinese government is looking to spend a great deal of money to make this a reality. This, in turn, is drawing companies into the industry at an ever-increasing clip.

One small measure of this enthusiasm. The bosses of two companies we work with, including one that’s a leader in the jewelry industry,  are now investing in LED street lighting projects. Lots of the venture capital and private equity firms we work with are eager to invest in China’s LED industry.

There are those outside China who share some of this optimism about LED’s future. But, nowhere else is the fever quite as widespread as it is here.

To be successful in the LED industry will require a synthesis of advanced scale manufacturing techniques and some sophisticated technological skills and innovative science. In other words, China has the two essential elements for success.

However, good science and good factories won’t solve the primary problem that LED lights remain uneconomic for most users. Even with the energy savings and longer life, the typical payback period for an LED is eight to ten years. Of course, some of the greenest of environmentally-conscious green buyers will pay that kind of premium.  But, the reality is there just aren’t that many businesses or households that will invest in LEDs when they need to wait so long just to breakeven compared to conventional incandescents.

That leaves only government as a likely big customer. No other government is quite as keen on LEDs as China’s. From the central government on down, there are plans in place now to replace all conventional street lights with LEDs.  In theory, this represents a market worth many billions of dollars. The millions of LED companies in China all seem to be chasing this one market.

Governments everywhere, not just in China, tend to be far less persuaded than private businesses by the logic of a cost-benefit analysis. China’s government wants to cut energy use and wants to foster the domestic LED industry. If successful, the large-scale government purchases in China would drive down manufacturing costs to the point where LEDs become cost-competitive everywhere. If so, China’s LED industry will truly become both world-beating and gargantuan in size.

I’ve yet to see a single LED street light in China. I have seen working prototypes, and they seem quite good. When big government orders will arrive and who will receive them remain collective guesswork in the Chinese LED industry.

That sums up precisely the dilemma of the LED industry. The companies are all reliant on a single, large and very unpredictable customer. When that one customer is government, equally large problems invariably intrude. Government purchases in China, as in the US and elsewhere, are slow to materialize, highly bureaucratic and favor companies with friends in high places, rather than those with the best products.

Buying from the lowest-cost supplier is often less important than buying from friends and cohorts. Basic LED technology is already very well-established and lots of companies can make the lights. The result: the government cash will likely get spread around widely, to thousands of small local firms. If this happens, the risk is that no one Chinese firm develops the scale economies to become truly efficient, and a potential global leader.

For LED lights to realize the huge potential first glimpsed when they were invented 50 years ago, they need to come down very dramatically in cost, to levels at least comparable with compact fluorescents. These CFL bulbs last eight to fifteen times longer than incandescents, and use only 30% as much energy. Their payback period is much quicker than LEDs, and they are already quite pervasive in homes and offices.

China has a chance to take the lead and take LED lighting to another level. I love all the excitement and entrepreneurial activity in the industry. Hope or hype, we’re likely to find out in the next three to five years.

Christmas has passed, but the reindeer antlers are still out in force. At my local supermarket in Shenzhen, the checkout team began sporting plastic antlers in late November. We’re a long way from the North Pole, and even farther, culturally, from the parts of the world where Christmas is traditionally celebrated. But, if there’s a party going on anywhere,  the Chinese want to be part of it. 

It’s not just the reindeer horns. A good 30% of all other shops’ sales force, as well as restaurant wait staff, are wearing those droopy red Santa caps. Most lobbies of the larger office buildings have Christmas trees, lit and ornamented. Mine also has a small crèche, that looks like a gingerbread house big enough to sleep three adults.  

Incongruous? Sure. But, one grows inured very quickly in China to things that don’t seem to make a lot of sense culturally. Red wine is increasingly the drink of choice among urban, upwardly-striving Chinese. Never mind that most of the wine is domestically produced, and has a thin, sour watered-down flavor a bit like salad dressing, and doesn’t compliment well the salty and spicy foods favored in much of China. 

Other examples: pajamas are occasionally used as outdoor-wear in China. The slowest-moving trucks on China’s expressways tend to putter along at one-third the speed limit in the left passing lane. Many ads for infant formula feature fat blond-haired babies. 

Christmas in China does not involve gift-giving, carol-singing, church-going. It’s a reason to decorate buildings, wear odd outfits, and send tens of millions (by my guesstimate) of SMS messages wishing other Chinese “圣诞快乐” ，literally “Happy Holy Birth”.  Santa Claus? His plastic likeness is plastered everywhere. In China, though, he is known as “圣诞老人“，or “Holy Birth Old Guy”. 

Not only is Christmas part of China’s holiday calendar now, so is Halloween in some of the bigger cities. But, it’s a Halloween celebrated only by adults wearing scary costumes to restaurants and bars that night. There’s no candy, no trick-or-treating. 

Much as China’s government still describes the economy as “socialism with Chinese characteristics”, there’s a lot of my daily life here that can be understood as “Western civilization with Chinese characteristics”. Much is broadly familiar, but most things have a strikingly and singularly Chinese flavor. 

Thursday night is New Year’s Eve. It’ll be my first in China. Logic tells me it should mainly pass unnoticed. Chinese New Year, which falls this year on Valentine’s Day, is the most important holiday of the year, and is so deeply engrained in the consciousness that when Chinese say “next year”, they usually mean some time after Chinese new year, which has no fixed date on the Gregorian calendar. It begins either in January or February, depending on cycles of the moon. The New Year holiday lasts seven days in China. 

So while there’s no cultural imperative to celebrate New Year’s Eve, I do expect restaurants, bars and shopping areas to be unusually raucous on Thursday night, much as they were on Christmas and Halloween. Like a college fraternity, China seems determined to seize any excuse to throw a party. 

“Go to a Chinese bookstore”. This is my advice to anyone who wants to get a quick, accurate and comprehensible sense of what’s happening, and what’s most remarkable about this almost unfathomably large and complex country. 

Why a bookstore? Well, first, all of us have been to these in our own cities and countries. So, we have a good enough idea of what to expect in a boostore. It’s usually a quiet, not overly well-trafficked location, with people milling around in silence. Even in the larger US chains like Borders and Barnes & Noble, there’s always a somnolent feeling about the place, like the paying customers are too few to support the cost of the lease. Sadly, that’s often been the case and Borders, for one, has run into huge financial problems. 

Now, let me take you – at least in words – to the bookstore closest to my home when I’m in Shenzhen. It’s called Shenzhen Book City, and even from the outside doesn’t look like any bookstore I’ve ever seen elsewhere. It’s a seven-story blue-glass tower the size of an office building. A typical big-box two-story Borders looks like some kind of cutesy toy compared to Shenzhen Book City. 

It’s on the city’s main thoroughfare, Shennan Road, and just above ground from a subway station. It’s open from 10am to 10pm daily. Just approaching it, you have the happy feeling of being pulled into a giant vortex of human activity, as big crowds of people quickly move into the store, or head out of it. 

Inside, it’s more crowded and generating a more palpable sense of buzz than the crowd at a baseball game. There are readers everywhere, moving from section to section, floor to floor, or stopped in an aisle deeply concentrating on some book they’ve taken from the shelves. This is a picture of China in the process of continued self-improvement. It’s very inspiring, and bears only the faintest resemblance to any other bookstore I’ve been to, in the 70 of more countries I’ve visited. 

The checkout lines are long, at any hour of the day. There’s a huge staff spread around the place, answering questions, guiding people to the section they’re looking for. Of course, this being China, there are also places to eat – quite a few of them – in the bookstore itself. It’s also more than just a retailer. There are classrooms on the upper floors where people come to take paid classes on all kinds of subjects aimed at self-improvement, like foreign languages, or accounting. 

The Shenzhen Book City, single-handedly, restores my faith that a love of books and the pursuit of intellectual inquiry has not been completely deadened by YouTube, video games and chat rooms. 

Shenzhen has other Book Cities, spread around the city. The others I’ve been to are no less crowded – and my guess, no less successfully financially than the one in my neighborhood, which must be making a small fortune every day. Books aren’t all that cheap in China. They used to be. But, the quality and choice have both improved enormously over the years. Some of the cover art is as good as anything I’ve ever seen. 

Anyone from outside China would have some immediate familiarity on entering the place. It looks like other bookstores, with lots of aisles and bookshelves, grouped in sections by topic,  stacked with books. But, what isn’t going to be familiar is the sheer exuberance of the place. It’s more like a jam-packed department store on Xmas eve than a staid bookstore.  It’s got that same air of  “I’m here to spend money, now”. 

It’s somehow raucous and purposeful at the same time. 

Standing by the entrance one day, a woman approached, seemingly intent on discovering why I was so obviously awestruck by the whole scene.  I couldn’t convince her there was anything worthy of note – as what seemed like thousands of people surged in and out of a book store. As it turned out, she also provided a nice small lesson on the state of Shenzhen’s economy at the moment. Until recently, she’d been working in 外贸, “waimao”, or foreign trade in English. It’s a catch-all term for a lot of the economic activity in Shenzhen until recently, embracing trading, sourcing, import-export. 

With the sudden downturn in the world economy last year, many of the easiest opportunities to make money from foreign trade more or less evaporated, as did many of the small companies that carried out this kind of work. The woman lost her job, and just a short time later, found a new one as a clerk in the bookstore. In other words, she made the transition, quite smoothly by all appearances, from earning a living off exports to earning a living from the domestic economy. 

I wandered some more and found my way to the section selling business, management and career-guidance books. It was particularly jammed with people, heads down, buried in their books, as if cramming for a big exam. In their urgency, their evident hunger to learn, to improve, you could catch a glimpse of just what lies deepest within the remarkable economic transformation of China over the last 30 years. 

It’s all there for the viewing, in an ordinary Shenzhen bookstore. 

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Looking for confirmation of how much more vibrant China’s IPO market — and therefore private equity market — is than the US? Well, the numbers are in. China’s IPO market has stumbled. America’s is in a coma.  

As reported in the Shanghai Daily, the number of IPOs in 2008 on China’s domestic stock exchanges fell, both in number and amount of capital raised. The totals were 76 IPOs, compared to 118 in 2007. The total capital raised was US$15 billion (RMB 103.4 billion) on the Shanghai and Shenzhen stock exchanges, down 77% from a year earlier.

While hardly a banner year for IPOs in China, the situation in the IPO market in the US was nothing short of cataclysmic. IPO activity was basically at a standstill, touching lows not seen for a generation. The last two quarters of the year, there wasn’t a single IPO by a venture capital or private equity-backed business. The IPO window in China may have closed somewhat. In the US, it seems welded shut.

What does this mean? Well, for one thing, it’s not a predictor of future activity. The US markets are highly cyclical. IPO activity ceased, in large part, because of more general weakness in the stock market, which was down over 33% in 2008. As the stock market begins to recover, so will IPO activity. Meantime, however, many venture capital and private equity firms in the US are going to suffer. Badly. 

In China, stock markets fell more steeply than in the US, but that didn’t entirely undermine the public appetite for new issues. There are a lot of cultural factors at work here. But, one fact that’s often overlooked is that most shares in China are owned by individuals. In the US, over two-thirds (by valuation) are owned by institutions. Individuals tend to have a higher appetite for risk than institutions, whose managers are constrained by fiduciary responsibilities and a competitive need to outperform their peers.

So, when it comes to the IPO market, China enjoys a structural advantage over the US, at this point in history. Equally important, China’s continued high economic growth of over 8% underpins corporate profit growth that is among the fastest in the world. 

Each $1 of profit in China can still be sold for $15 or more at IPO. That’s why China looks even more attractive, comparatively, than it did before for many of the world’s private equity firms. 

In the global competition for capital, China now ranks as a genuine superpower. 

Despite delays and continuing uncertainty, 2009 should see the opening of China’s first stock market for smaller, high-growth technology companies. Modeled on the NASDAQ in the US and AIM in London, this new market will be headquartered in Shenzhen, as part of the Shenzhen Stock Exchange, the smaller of the two stock markets in China.

Overall, this is a positive development for China’s financial industry, and the private equity and venture capital communities. Since China’s Prime Minister, Wen Jiabao announced in March 2008 the planned establishment of this new stock market, after almost a decade of internal discussion, the date for the launch has steadily slid back, a casualty of the 60% fall in China’s main stock markets this year.  

The final details have not been announced, but what seems clear at this point is that this new market will have significantly lower qualifying thresholds for companies seeking a stock market listing, compared to the main boards in Shenzhen and Shanghai. The numbers talked about are net assets above RMB 20 million (US$2.8mn) and revenues above RMB 10mn (US$1.5mn). There seems to be no requirement, as of now, for companies to be profitable at the time of listing. It’s possible, therefore, that companies listed on the new exchange will have market caps that barely exceed $10mn. 

Here’s my thinking. The largest quoted companies on the Shanghai market are trading at a price-earnings multiple of under 12. This is down, like the broader market, by almost 60% from recent highs. Put those kind of multiples on a small company with revenues under US$2mn and profits below $1mn, and you have the possibility of market caps in that very low range. True, high-tech companies tend to enjoy higher p/e multiples than more traditional large-caps. But, even so, this new stock market will be operating in some unchartered territory for China’s financial markets — companies with comparatively thin floats, low total market value, and so, most likely, higher price volatility. 

This could help explain why the Chinese government has repeatedly delayed plans to launch this stock market for high-growth companies. The regulators have probably seen this year all the volatility they care to see for a long time. 

Of course, the key factor won’t be earnings multiples or volatility, but the quality of the underlying high-tech businesses to be quoted on this exchange. Here’s where I see bigger problems. China, like its richer neighbors in Asia, as well as Western Europe, would very much like to rival the USA in nurturing successful high-tech companies in industries like software and chip technology. Across China, there are high-tech business parks where early-stage technology companies are concentrated. By one count, there are over 5,000 across the country. But, so far, there haven’t been many big break-out successes. 

The simple truth is that, as other countries have learned over the last decade, it’s hard to duplicate the particular success the US has in developing successful high-tech businesses. Having a stock market for high-tech companies is certainly not much of a factor. If so, Germany, which started its own high-tech company stock market, the NeuerMarkt ten years ago, would today be awash with leading technology firms. Instead, there are few, if any good tech companies in Germany and the Neuer Markt eventually was shut down. Britain’s AIM market has also failed to produce many successes in that country. 

In my mind, China does have a better shot than Germany, or Britain, or Japan. The main reason: Chinese are more entrepreneurial, and there’s more a culture of prudent risk-taking than elsewhere. If any country has a shot to achieve some of the same success the US has enjoyed building great technology companies, it’s got to be China. 

So, I hope this new stock market gets started early in 2009. It will provide more motivation – not that much is needed – to China’s budding technology leaders, and also provide another viable exit route for venture capital investors in China

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I’m a very happy man today.  After several weeks in the US, I’m back in China. Nowhere else on this planet more pleases, inspires, awes and  enchants me.  I have a very long – just about life-long, in fact – love affairs with China.  As a boy growing up in the US during the height of the  Cold War, China was remote, closed, secretive, hostile to US foreign policy – and deeply fascinating, to me. More fascinating, in fact, than anywhere or anything else. I can’t entirely explain why. Maybe it was Nixon’s visit in 1972. Or, more likely, my early, and abiding, love of my grandfather’s exquisite Ming and Ching dynasty jade collection, which I’m now very proud to own. (The photo on the left is one of the pieces from my grandfather’s collection, a vase from the Ching Dynasty.)

All I know is that as soon as I got to university in the US, I enrolled in Chinese class, and declared myself a Chinese history major. My first visit to China was 1981, when I arrived as a postgraduate student at Nanjing University.

My intent back then was to devote my life to China – working, living and learning. In fact, my career path took an unexpected course and I ended up in Europe for 15 very happy and rewarding years, many of them spent as a foreign correspondent, traveling to well over 60 countries. From there, I moved on to Los Angeles to run a venture capital firm, and then lead a finance business during its US IPO.  I visited China during these years, but until last year, never had the opportunity to do what I’d long hoped and planned to do – work and live in China.

China First Capital is a culmination of my life’s dreams, hopes, and goals. 

I divide my time now between LA and Shenzhen, maintaining an office and home in each place. I feel intensely fortunate now to be involved in my work in the most important and history-changing development of our time: China’s rapid rise to economic greatness.  This work is deeply meaningful and fulfilling for me, because I have this long and unbreakable bond (in my heart as well as my mind) to this country. China is reassuming its role at the epicenter of world commerce, and everyone in the world, quite literally, benefits from this.

Right now, I have one specific, personal benefit in mind. Just as soon as I shower and unpack, I’m off for a delicious lunch of Sichuan food at a local place where I’ve gotten to know the owners, an extended family from Chongqing.