“Do We Know Someone?”
One of the most common phrases I heard growing up in northern China wasn’t “Where can we find this?” but “Do we know someone who can help?” Even for small things. I remember once wanting to upgrade a computer hard drive. My instinct now would be to search online, read reviews, and book a repair shop. Back then, the first step was entirely different.
“Dad, do you know anyone who fixes computers?”
The question wasn’t strange. It was expected. The answer didn’t always come immediately, but the search itself began through people rather than platforms. A cousin’s friend, a former colleague, a neighbor’s relative — the solution usually emerged from a web of relationships. At the time, it felt efficient in its own way. It was less about directories and more about trust.
The Logic Behind Guanxi
Guanxi isn’t merely networking in the Western sense. It’s closer to a social ecosystem built on familiarity and reciprocity. When you know someone personally, you aren’t just accessing a service; you’re accessing reassurance. There’s a belief that personal bonds reduce uncertainty, and uncertainty is often the hidden cost people want to avoid.
In many Chinese business settings I encountered, this dynamic extended naturally into professional life. Deals often began with meals, shared stories, and gradual relationship building. The transaction came later. The bond came first. Without that personal layer, collaboration sometimes felt incomplete. It wasn’t always about exclusion; it was about comfort and perceived reliability.
Shenzhen: A Shift From People to Procedures
Moving to Shenzhen marked a subtle but powerful transition in my experience. The environment there felt faster, more procedural, almost mechanical compared to what I had known. Instead of asking who you knew, the question often became which regulation applied or which office to contact.
I remember noticing that people spoke more frequently about policies, documentation, and legal consultation. Finding a lawyer or reading official guidelines began to replace calling a relative. Guanxi didn’t disappear, but it stopped being the only pathway. The city’s pace and scale seemed to encourage systems over personal channels, and that shift quietly reshaped my expectations of how things could work.
Canada: The Rulebook as the Starting Point
When I later moved to Canada, the contrast became even clearer. The first instinct here was almost always to consult instructions — official websites, manuals, service centers. The assumption was that if you followed the steps correctly, the outcome would follow.
There may be back doors or side doors somewhere, but they aren’t obvious or culturally emphasized. Most of the time, transparency and procedure felt like the default. The process didn’t depend on personal familiarity. It depended on clarity.
What stood out to me was how inclusive that clarity felt. If you knew how to read the instructions, you had access. You didn’t need introductions or endorsements. The system felt less intimate but more predictable.
Business Relationships: Bonds Versus Funnels
The difference became especially visible in business environments. In some Chinese contexts I experienced, transactions often grew from relationships rather than pipelines. If you didn’t personally know the other party, trust had to be built before numbers were even discussed. The idea of a structured funnel — identifying leads, nurturing them through stages, closing deals through systematic steps — sometimes felt secondary to personal familiarity.
In contrast, Canadian business culture often leaned on frameworks. Customer relationship management systems, scheduled follow-ups, and transparent proposals replaced personal endorsements. It wasn’t that relationships didn’t matter; they simply weren’t the sole currency. Trust came from process as much as from personality.
Preference and Perspective
Experiencing these environments gradually shaped my own preference. I began to appreciate systems where instructions were clear, accessible, and consistent. There was comfort in knowing that the path to solving a problem didn’t depend on who I could call.
At the same time, I recognize the warmth and resilience that guanxi can create. Relationships can open doors that procedures cannot. They foster loyalty and shared responsibility. But when relationships become prerequisites rather than advantages, access can feel uneven.
What Stays With Me
Living across these cultures taught me that guanxi and regulation are not opposites — they are different maps for navigating the same terrain. One map is drawn through people, the other through procedures. One emphasizes trust built over time; the other emphasizes fairness built into structure.
For me, the most balanced perspective emerged somewhere in between. Personal connections enrich collaboration, but clear systems ensure inclusivity. When instructions are transparent and relationships remain genuine rather than obligatory, problem-solving becomes both human and equitable.
In the end, I learned that knowing how to proceed can be just as empowering as knowing who to call — and sometimes, the strongest networks are the ones that don’t replace clarity but grow alongside it.
