Author name: 胡思

nIs Jesus Christ white? This question persists not merely out of curiosity about appearance, but because it applies modern racial concepts to an ancient figure.n

nHistorically, Jesus Christ was born in the 1st century Roman Empire’s province of Judea and grew up in Galilee. He was Jewish. The local population at the time belonged to the Near Eastern Semitic groups, typically with olive to brown skin, dark hair, and deep-set eyes. Archaeological and anthropological studies suggest his appearance would have been similar to modern-day Levantine men, rather than the fair-skinned, blonde-haired, blue-eyed image typical of Northern Europeans. The Gospels do not describe his specific features, only affirming his ethnicity and identity. By modern racial classifications, he was unlikely to resemble the typical European white image seen in Renaissance paintings.n

nWhy, then, is he often depicted as white in European churches and religious art? The reason lies in the shifts of historical power and cultural centers. After Christianity became the state religion of the Roman Empire in the 4th century, European artists dominated religious art. They modeled holy figures on people around them, naturally Europeanizing the image. As colonial expansion spread, this visual version was carried worldwide, gradually being mistaken for historical reality.n

nHowever, this is not the only depiction. In African iconography, he is shown with darker skin; in Asian church art, he has Eastern features; in Latin America, he resembles local ethnic characteristics. Religious imagery often localizes to help believers form emotional connections. Images are a cultural language, not historical photographs.n

nThe issue becomes sensitive due to modern racial politics. During colonial times, the image of a white Jesus was used to reinforce narratives of civilizational superiority. When religious figures are tied to a specific ethnicity, faith can be co-opted by power. Since the 20th century, scholars have emphasized his historical background as a Middle Eastern Jew, attempting to steer the discussion back to facts.n

nYet, according to biblical understanding, he is not just a historical figure but the Son of God, sent by God to the world. He came to bring salvation to all humanity. This identity and mission transcend ethnic and national boundaries. Historically, he was unlikely to be the white figure of modern imagination; from a faith perspective, skin color is not central. His physical form had a regional background, but his mission was universal. He was born into a specific ethnicity in history, yet transcends ethnicity in faith. The true question is not about his skin color, but whether we are willing to acknowledge that a value transcending ethnicity and borders is the reason this story has endured for two millennia.n

nHong Kong’s sudden wealth is an illusion. Over the past three fiscal years, deficits have been clearly recorded. In the 2022/23 fiscal year, the deficit was HKD 122.3 billion, followed by approximately HKD 100.2 billion in 2023/24, and still HKD 48.1 billion in 2024/25. Land revenues have declined, stamp duties have shrunk, yet recurrent expenditures continue to rise annually. This is not a cyclical fluctuation but a structural issue. Reserves are dwindling, and the gap is widening.n

nThen a miracle occurred. The books turned to show a surplus. The method was simple: classify debt issuance as income. Borrowed money was counted as earned money, and thus the deficit vanished. Suddenly, the fiscal health appeared robust. If economics could be this flexible, it would indeed be worthy of applause.n

nThe definition of a deficit is inherently straightforward. When expenditure exceeds income, the difference is the deficit. The amount of borrowing should match this shortfall. Borrowing is merely a tool to fill the gap. Now, the logic has been inverted. Previously, borrowing was necessary due to deficits; now, because money is borrowed, there is no deficit. This is not fiscal improvement; it is a rewriting of language. Using borrowing to negate the necessity of borrowing is a beautifully circular argument, yet utterly hollow.n

nProponents might argue that issuing bonds is normal financing, so why fuss over categorization? The issue is not with borrowing but with honesty. Financing involves advancing future resources, while income is the creation of resources in the present. If these are conflated, the deficit becomes a decorative term. The more borrowed today, the greater the apparent surplus. Such logic is not only safe but also aggressive.n

nLooking at the UK makes this clearer. In the 2025/26 fiscal year, the UK public sector net borrowing is about GBP 140 billion, with a daily budget deficit of approximately GBP 94.9 billion, accounting for about 4.6% of GDP. This indicates that expenditures far exceed tax revenues, necessitating market financing to fill the gap. If the UK adopted the same principle, treating this GBP 140 billion borrowing as income, the annual deficit would immediately approach zero. Fiscal discipline would not need reform, nor would economic structures require adjustment; only the classification would need rewriting. The deficit would no longer exist, only a definitional issue would remain.n

nThe brilliance of this approach lies in its self-contained logic. A deficit equals the need to borrow money, borrowing money equals increased income, and increased income equals no deficit. The logical loop is seamless. Outsiders see the numbers; insiders see the definitions. Change the definition, and reality complies.n

nIf this principle were widely applied, most countries with long-term deficits could transform overnight. The United States, Japan, the United Kingdom would no longer need to debate deficits. The more borrowed, the more surplus. The fiscal conundrum would be effortlessly resolved. This is indeed a breakthrough. It does not increase productivity or reduce spending but successfully eliminates the deficit. Economists have studied for decades and may not have conceived such a direct solution.n

nTherefore, if the Nobel Prize in Economics rewards innovative thinking, Paul Chan should be a contender. He has demonstrated a shortcut: by treating borrowed money as earned money, fiscal deficits become a thing of the past. Whether the debt remains, interest accumulates, or repayment is inevitable, those are problems for tomorrow. Today, the books have already triumphed.n

nHong Kong has never been a static place. Its history is essentially a history of migration. To discuss immigration today by only focusing on recent departures would be incomplete. The roots of Hong Kong’s people are inherently tied to movement.n

nIn the early 19th century, as the port opened, a large number of residents from coastal Guangdong moved south in search of livelihoods. The turmoil of the late Qing Dynasty, including the Taiping Rebellion, wars, and famines, pushed even more people to this small port. Around 1949, a new wave of population influx occurred. Political upheaval and social restructuring led hundreds of thousands to cross the border and rebuild their lives under British rule. During the 1950s and 1960s, Shanghai businessmen and skilled workers migrated south, bringing capital and knowledge that took root. Hong Kong’s industrialization and export economy were co-created by these immigrants and local labor.n

nIn other words, Hong Kongers are essentially descendants of mainland immigrants. The city’s character is built on escaping hardship, seeking livelihoods, and entrepreneurship. Its vitality stems from a do-or-die mentality.n

nBut the story does not end there. After the 1984 Sino-British Joint Declaration, uncertainty spread. From the mid-1980s to before 1997, a large wave of emigration occurred. Canada, Australia, and the UK became primary destinations. Many obtained residency rights and adopted a “astronaut” lifestyle, shuttling between countries. Families were separated, and assets were allocated in both places, serving both as a hedge and a pathway for their children.n

nAfter 1997, a phenomenon of return migration emerged. With economic improvement and increased opportunities, some immigrant families chose to return to Hong Kong. However, the social unrest of 2019, coupled with the implementation of the National Security Law in 2020, triggered a new wave of emigration. The UK introduced the BN(O) visa scheme, with over 180,000 applications by 2025. Canada and Australia also relaxed related arrangements. Mobility has once again become a key theme.n

nIt is noteworthy that Hong Kong people are both immigrants and receivers. During the era of Vietnamese boat people, Hong Kong bore humanitarian pressure. After the 1990s, mainland professionals and students moved south, becoming new blood for the city. In recent years, Southeast Asian and South Asian communities have settled here. Hong Kong’s social structure has always been layered and overlapping.n

nSome say emigration is an escape, others call it betrayal. But looking back over a century, migration is actually a strategy. When circumstances change, people seek new paths. This is neither a moral judgment nor an emotional outburst, but a pragmatic choice. Risk diversification, opportunity comparison, and institutional considerations form the core of decision-making.n

nThe real question is not who leaves, but why generation after generation must constantly weigh the decision to stay or go. When a city’s allure coexists with uncertainty, mobility becomes the norm. Hong Kong’s fate is always linked to both sides of the border.n

nWe are all descendants of immigrants and may be the starting point for the next migration. The city may not empty, but the quality and quantity of its population will change. The issue is not whether to emigrate, but how those who remain will reshape the future of this city.n

nRoad construction is fundamentally a technical issue, yet it often evolves into a cultural phenomenon. When two lanes narrow into one, a single-file queue frequently forms hundreds of meters in advance, leaving the other lane empty. This isn’t due to regulations but because people don’t want to be seen as rude.n

nIn British driving culture, queuing is almost synonymous with fairness. The unspoken rule is first come, first served. When drivers see a lane closure sign ahead, they typically choose the lane that still appears ‘normal’ and queue up. The other lane, even if still open, gradually becomes unused. This isn’t because it’s off-limits, but because using it would be perceived as cutting in line.n

nThis psychological force is not to be underestimated. Even though the Highway Code permits using both lanes and merging alternately at the narrowing point, most people prefer to merge early into the so-called main lane. Some even deliberately position their vehicles to block others from using the empty lane. For them, this isn’t obstructing traffic but maintaining order. The problem is that when everyone compresses into a single lane early, the queue lengthens rapidly.n

nThis early queuing effect is particularly evident during motorway works, such as on the M25 or M6. The bottleneck may only be at the narrowing point of a few dozen meters, yet the tailback can extend for several kilometers. If the upstream section is near an interchange or ramp, even vehicles not intending to pass through the construction site are slowed down. The single-lane mentality amplifies into a broader network efficiency issue.n

nIf the root of the problem lies in cultural intuition, mere publicity may not suffice. Instead of asking drivers to change their mindset, it might be more effective to adjust engineering designs so that the space itself guides behavior. The current common practice is to completely close one lane while keeping the other intact, visually creating a primary-secondary distinction. Drivers can easily identify which is the ‘real’ lane and which is a temporary extension.n

nPerhaps the approach could be reversed. Engineers could refrain from fully closing one lane and instead gradually reduce the width of both lanes as they approach the narrowing point, each retaining half its width. Both lanes would narrow simultaneously and remain usable until merging at the final point. This way, there is no obvious main lane. If drivers abandon one lane early, it would seem irrational. The spatial layout itself would diminish moral anxiety.n

nThis half-width closure design delays the compression action to the actual bottleneck location. The earlier sections maintain dual-lane flow, leading to a more balanced traffic distribution and naturally shortening the tailback. Even if drivers still value fairness, they would only need to alternate at the last few dozen meters, rather than making a moral statement hundreds of meters earlier.n

nRoadworks are not just about laying asphalt and placing cones; they also shape behavior. British drivers value politeness, which is a virtue. However, if politeness translates into excessively early single-lane queuing, a systemic response is required. Instead of blaming drivers for being too rule-abiding, we should ask whether the design offers a more reasonable choice.n

nRoadworks will eventually be completed, but culture endures. Next time you see an empty lane, perhaps it’s not necessary to rush to judge who is being impolite, but rather to consider whether the space has already predetermined the answer.n

nThe true end of civilization may not come from war, but from celestial visitors. Approximately 66 million years ago, an asteroid with a diameter of about 10 to 15 kilometers struck what is now the Yucatán Peninsula in Mexico, leaving behind the Chicxulub crater. The energy released by this impact far exceeded the combined power of all human nuclear weapons. The subsequent global cooling and ecological collapse led to the extinction of about 75% of species, marking the end of the dinosaurs. This is not mythology, but a fact confirmed by geological and chemical evidence.n

nIf an impact of similar magnitude were to occur today, humanity would not vanish instantly, but civilization would face unprecedented disruption. The immediate impact would depend on the location. An impact on land near densely populated areas could cause shockwaves, extreme heat, and massive fires, killing tens of millions or even hundreds of millions within hours. If it struck the deep sea, coastal regions might be hit by colossal tsunamis. Regardless of the impact site, the true determinant of human fate would not be the first day, but the ensuing years.n

nThe scientific community has conducted extensive simulations on the so-called ‘impact winter.’ Dust and sulfuric aerosols would enter the stratosphere, blocking sunlight, causing surface temperatures to plummet, and severely weakening photosynthesis. Modern society heavily relies on stable agriculture and global supply chains. If major grain-producing regions suffered consecutive years of reduced yields, global food reserves would quickly deplete, and energy and transportation systems would be disrupted, turning food into a matter of survival rather than just a pricing issue. With today’s population of approximately 8 billion, in extreme scenarios, the death toll could likely reach billions, not just millions or tens of millions.n

nThere is no precise academic figure, as too many variables exist. The impact location, season, angle of entry, and level of international cooperation would all alter the outcome. However, climate models and ecological inferences suggest this would be a near-global systemic collapse. Some populations might survive in underground facilities, remote areas, or countries with high reserves, but it would be a world with drastically reduced populations and regressed technological levels.n

nIt is important to emphasize that such impacts are extremely low-probability events. The frequency of a 10-kilometer-diameter asteroid striking Earth is about once every tens of millions to hundreds of millions of years. Humanity has not existed long enough to naturally encounter one. However, low probability is not zero probability. NASA and the European Space Agency have been monitoring near-Earth objects and have successfully tested asteroid deflection technologies in recent years. These efforts may not change the randomness of the cosmos, but they at least show that humanity is beginning to proactively respond.n

nDiscussing such disasters can easily lead to doomsday sentiments. What truly merits reflection is the resilience of civilization. When food, energy, and order are simultaneously under pressure, can society still maintain cooperation and rationality? When the dinosaurs went extinct, there was no civilization to collapse. If a similar-scale event were to occur today, humanity would face not only an astrophysical problem but a test of institutional and coordination capabilities.n

nThe sky does not target humanity, but it will not show mercy either. If a Chicxulub-level impact were to recur, deaths could reach billions, and survivors would face a prolonged winter. The future of civilization depends not only on celestial orbits but also on whether we are willing to remain vigilant and prepared for the enormous risks of extremely low probability.n

nA chart circulating online presents striking figures: Hong Kong ranks first. Some have hastily concluded that Hong Kongers are the largest buyers of UK property.n

nThis conclusion is premature.n

nThe data originates from the UK’s HM Land Registry, which tracks properties in England and Wales held under the names of overseas companies—not individuals or passport holders, but based on company registration. As of 2025, there are approximately 202,568 property registrations held by overseas companies, with about 27,898 registered to Hong Kong companies, accounting for 13.8%, the highest proportion.n

nNote carefully: these are Hong Kong companies, not Hong Kong people.n

nIn recent years, many Hong Kongers moving to the UK with BN(O) visas have indeed purchased properties. Many families, lacking local credit histories, struggle to secure mortgages immediately and thus sell Hong Kong properties to buy with cash. This is a fact. However, most purchase properties under personal names. Such transactions do not appear in the ‘overseas company holdings’ statistics.n

nIn other words, the BN(O) property buying wave is likely not reflected in that chart.n

nSo, who are these so-called ‘Hong Kong companies’?n

nSome are long-established Hong Kong capital. Since the 1990s, many high-net-worth individuals from Hong Kong have held London properties through Hong Kong companies as part of asset allocation. Holding properties through companies facilitates handling of shares, inheritance, and partnership arrangements. These structures have long existed and are unrelated to recent immigration.n

nSome involve mainland Chinese funds transiting through Hong Kong. As an international financial center, Hong Kong is a common platform for holding structures. The funds originate from mainland China, but legally they are Hong Kong companies. The statistics reflect the registration location, not the source of the funds.n

nThere are also investors from other countries. Hong Kong offers convenient company setup, a mature system, and an internationalized banking framework. For cross-border capital, it serves as a tool. A company registered in Hong Kong does not necessarily mean it is backed by Hong Kong residents.n

nTherefore, the statement ‘Hong Kongers are the largest buyers’ actually conflates legal classification with identity recognition. A more accurate statement would be: among UK properties held by overseas companies, the largest number are held under the name of Hong Kong-registered companies.n

nThis is not mere semantics but a fundamental fact.n

nFrom an economic perspective, rental yields on UK residential properties generally exceed those in Hong Kong. In some UK cities, gross rental yields reach 5% to 7%, while Hong Kong’s core areas have hovered around 2% to 3% for years. For investors seeking cash flow, UK properties resemble a business venture rather than just a capital parking spot. The yield disparity itself is a reason for capital movement.n

nBN(O) represents population movement. Hong Kong company holdings represent capital movement. The two may overlap but should not be conflated.n

nNumbers do not lie, but classifications can mislead. When a city is both a source of immigration and a capital intermediary, it naturally appears to ‘rank first’ on the surface. The issue lies not in the ranking but in the understanding.n

nThe property market is never just a slogan. It reflects confidence in systems and capital choices. Rushing to conclusions without clarifying statistical definitions only leads to misdirection.n

nWhat kind of society would you design if you didn’t know whether you would be born into a wealthy or poor family, whether you would be able-bodied or disabled, or whether you would belong to a majority or minority group?n

nThis question is posed by American political philosopher John Rawls. In his 1971 book, ‘A Theory of Justice,’ he introduced the thought experiment of the ‘veil of ignorance.’ The idea is to place everyone behind a ‘veil’ before establishing societal rules, where no one knows their future class, gender, race, abilities, or wealth. Since one cannot predict their position, the only option is to design a system that is acceptable even to the least advantaged.n

nThis is not a fairy tale but a form of rational reasoning. Rawls argues that in this original position, people would choose two principles: first, everyone should have equal basic liberties; second, social and economic inequalities must be arranged to benefit the least advantaged and ensure opportunities are open to all. This is known as the ‘difference principle.’n

nWhy think this way? Because real-world discussions are often hijacked by vested interests. The wealthy tend to support low taxes, while the poor lean towards high welfare; majority groups are less concerned with minority rights because they are not at risk. Conflicts of position often masquerade as ideological disputes. The value of the veil of ignorance lies in forcing us to temporarily detach from our identities and consider institutional design from a risk management perspective.n

nThis theory still offers insights for contemporary policy debates. When discussing healthcare systems, would you accept a system where only the wealthy receive quality treatment? If you suddenly fell seriously ill tomorrow, your answer might differ. When considering educational resources, do you support concentrating the best schools in affluent areas? If you didn’t know which community your child would be born into, would you reconsider? The veil of ignorance does not demand egalitarianism but insists on preserving a baseline for the most unfortunate.n

nOf course, Rawls has his critics. Economists and libertarian thinkers like Robert Nozick question whether the difference principle excessively interferes with markets and individual property rights. He argues that as long as wealth acquisition and transfer processes are just, the state should not redistribute based on outcomes. This debate reflects differing understandings of ‘justice’: is it about procedure or outcome?n

nEven if one disagrees with Rawls’s conclusions, it is hard to deny that the veil of ignorance provides a powerful metric. It reminds us that institutional design should not only ask, ‘Is this beneficial to me?’ but also, ‘If I were in the worst position, could I still accept this?’ This is a form of cool-headed moral discipline, not emotional sympathy.n

nIn political reality, completely detaching from identity is nearly impossible. People have positions, interests, and fears. But the significance of the veil of ignorance is not in erasing memory but in fostering a habit of thought: before taking a stance, put yourself at risk. When you applaud welfare cuts, ask what would happen if you were unemployed for three years; when you oppose tax increases, consider how you would choose if you were the one unable to afford medical expenses.n

nJustice is not an abstract slogan or a passionate cry. It is an institutional arrangement, a set of rules that allows people with different fates to stand on solid ground. The veil of ignorance teaches us this kind of calm imagination.n

nThe issue is not where you stand today, but whether you could still accept the system you support if your identity were swapped tomorrow.n

nIn the language of the British royal family, names belong to individuals, while titles belong to the institution. News reports refer to King, not Charles; Prince of Wales, not William. This is not a matter of politeness, but of constitutional structure. The British monarchy defines power and responsibility through titles, not personal names.n

nTake Charles III as an example. His full legal title is: Charles the Third, by the Grace of God of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and of His other Realms and Territories King, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith. This string of words is not rhetoric but a declaration of the source of power. Names can be repeated, but the throne cannot be confused. Titles represent institutional positions, not personal emotions.n

nThe title Prince of Wales is customarily used for the heir apparent but must be conferred by the monarch, not automatically assumed. In 2022, after Charles III ascended the throne, he appointed his eldest son William, Prince of Wales as Prince of Wales. Historically, this title almost equates to the future king, but legally, flexibility remains. The corresponding title for the spouse is Princess of Wales, currently held by Catherine, Princess of Wales. These titles are not mere decorations but signify the order of succession.n

nWilliam’s family exemplifies the system in operation. The Prince of Wales is also the Duke of Cornwall and, in Scotland, the Duke of Rothesay. His children are Prince George of Wales, Princess Charlotte of Wales, and Prince Louis of Wales. When William eventually ascends the throne, these titles will change overnight, but the names will remain the same. The institution comes first, the individual second.n

nCharles III’s siblings are also defined by titles. Anne, Princess Royal, is Charles III’s sister and holds the title Princess Royal, a lifelong honorific. Prince Edward, Duke of Edinburgh, is Charles’s brother and currently holds the title Duke of Edinburgh. As for Prince Andrew, Duke of York, also Charles’s brother, he was formerly Duke of York. In recent years, he has ceased using the styles Prince and His Royal Highness, and is often referred to in public as Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor. Legally, the abolition of titles requires formal procedures, not public opinion. Even so, he no longer performs royal duties, highlighting the distance between institutional identity and public role.n

nMountbatten-Windsor is the legal surname of the British royal family. In 1917, George V changed the dynasty’s name from its Germanic origins to Windsor. In 1960, Elizabeth II combined her husband Prince Philip’s surname Mountbatten with Windsor, forming Mountbatten-Windsor. This surname is primarily used in contexts such as the military, schools, or legal documents. Royal family members do not typically use surnames, as titles suffice to identify them. Andrew’s use of Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor for private affairs after stepping back from royal roles illustrates that when titles are no longer central to public identity, surnames emerge.n

nThe British royal naming system may seem complex, but it follows a single principle: the institution supersedes the individual. Titles define power and responsibility, while names carry personal life. Surnames belong to the legal realm, not the core of identity. News reports refer to The King not out of reverence, but because that is how the constitution functions. Understanding this, the language of the royal family becomes less mysterious, leaving only order and tradition.n

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