Yanwen’s blog

10/7/2026

Last Sunday, I came across an article that immediately provoked a strong reaction in me. Its title was “Why Do Chinese Audiences Love Watching Women Catch the Other Woman?” (中国人为什么这么爱看“抓小三”, Zhōngguó rén wèishénme zhème ài kàn “zhuā xiǎosān”).

The article explores the enduring popularity of Chinese television dramas featuring wives confronting their husbands' mistresses. It begins with a scene from The First Half of My Life (《我的前半生》) that went viral nine years ago and traces how the “other woman,” or 小三 (xiǎosān), has been portrayed in Chinese television dramas over the decades.

The author also explores why stories about infidelity attract audiences. This fascination is not unique to China. From an evolutionary perspective, jealousy may be a natural response to perceived threats to a relationship. Watching a confrontation between a wife and her husband's mistress may allow viewers to experience these threats vicariously.

There is also the satisfaction of seeing someone who has violated a social norm punished. Negative gossip and conflict can capture our attention, making these characters compelling to both viewers and writers.

The article cites survey data suggesting that self-reported rates of extramarital sex increased between 2000 and 2020, with men consistently reporting higher rates than women.

To its credit, the author also points out that blaming all marital problems on a third party oversimplifies the reality of relationships. It gives people an easy target for their anger while allowing deeper problems within a marriage to go unexamined.

But one assumption in these stories particularly bothers me: the idea that the husband is essentially a decent family man who is tempted and seduced by another woman.

The mistress is often portrayed as the villain who started pursuing a married man and destroys his family. The man, meanwhile, appears almost passive, as though he has been led astray against his better judgment. Public anger is directed overwhelmingly at the woman, while the married man receives far less condemnation.

This issue is not merely an observation about television dramas for me. It touches something I have seen in my own family. One of my relatives was involved with another woman for two years while he was already in a relationship with someone else. What troubles me is that people tend to focus on the “third person” and blame her, while paying much less attention to the man’s own choices.

I find this deeply unfair.

A married man is not a victim of temptation. He is a person who made a commitment and has the responsibility to honor it. Whatever role another woman may have played, he remains responsible for his own choices. To portray him as someone who was merely seduced shifts the blame away from the person who broke his marital commitment.

This reflects a broader double standard in attitudes toward extramarital affairs. Women are often judged more harshly than men, while men's infidelity may be excused as a natural weakness or the result of irresistible temptation. "All men are like this," as my sister explained. The underlying message is that men cannot always be expected to remain faithful, but women should be held responsible for tempting them. Why double standard?

If a marriage involves two people, responsibility for protecting it cannot rest on one person alone. Should we hold both accountable without treating one as the sole villain and the other as a helpless victim?

Thinking about this double standard and Women's Lib movement reminds me of an old cigarette commercial with the slogan, “You've come a long way, baby.”

Women have indeed come a long way in their struggle for equality. Yet some old assumptions remain stubbornly alive.

Perhaps we have come a long way—but we still have a long way to go before men and women are judged by the same standards.

10/6/2026

Last week, I came across an article on the Chinese internet offering advice on raising a boy. Since it made me think about my grandson, I thought I would write down the ideas and share them with my son.

The author is a mother with seven or eight years of experience raising a son. She offers four practical suggestions. The first three are about how parents interact with a boy; the last one, she jokes, is really about protecting the mother's mental health.

Here are the four ideas.

1. Share the workload—don't let the mother do everything.

The author emphasizes the importance of involving the father in raising a boy. Boys can have enormous amounts of energy, and physical play can be a good way for them to explore that energy. Instead of leaving most of the childcare to the mother, fathers can take an active role through play, sports, outdoor activities, and everyday care.

This benefits everyone. The child gets more time with his father, the father develops his own relationship with his son, and the mother gets some time to rest.

I would take this as a general parenting principle rather than something unique to boys: raising a child should be a shared responsibility.

2. Set clear rules and boundaries early.

Young children need to know what is acceptable and what is not. Rules about routines, manners, safety, and how to treat other people can be introduced from an early age.

The important thing is not simply to have many rules, but to make expectations clear and consistent. Children need to know that actions have consequences and that some boundaries are not negotiable.

The earlier, the easier for rule-setting. Also, what matters more is consistency, patience, and the relationship between the child and the adults setting the rules.

3. Sometimes ask for help instead of turning everything into a confrontation.

The author suggests that when a child refuses to cooperate, a parent does not always have to respond with a command or a power struggle. Sometimes, asking for the child's help can work better.

For example, instead of saying, “Clean up your toys,” a parent might say, “Can you help me put these away?”

This gives the child a sense that he is capable and useful. It can also turn cooperation into something positive rather than another battle of wills.

I think this is about giving children appropriate responsibility and allowing them to experience the satisfaction of being helpful.

4. Practice informed parenting—and take care of yourself.

The last suggestion is really for the parent.

Parenting anxiety often comes from uncertainty. The more parents understand about child development and their own children's personalities, the better they may be able to respond calmly rather than reacting to every difficult moment.

But even good parenting strategies won't make every day easy. Children will have tantrums, test boundaries, refuse to cooperate, and surprise their parents.

That is why parents also need to take care of themselves. A tired, anxious, overwhelmed parent has less patience and energy to give a child.

Perhaps this is the most important lesson of the four: raising a child is a long journey, and the parent is part of the equation, too.

Of course no parenting formula can predict what kind of person a child will become. My grandson will have his own personality, strengths, and challenges. But I hope his parents can give him three things as he grows: clear boundaries, plenty of opportunities to explore, and parents who have enough patience and energy to enjoy the journey with him.

After all, raising a child is not only about shaping the child. It is also about learning how to become better parents along the way.

10/5/2026

There is a Chinese term that most Chinese people understand: 卷 (juǎn), often translated as “involution” or used to describe relentless competition. It refers to a situation in which people keep working harder and harder just to get ahead, even when the extra effort brings diminishing returns. No one wants to fall behind, so everyone feels compelled to keep pushing.

My children may have heard this term, but they may not fully understand its implications in Chinese society.

A few days ago, I read a news story about mental health problems in China. It made me wonder whether the intense competition many people experience, beginning in childhood, might be contributing to the problem.

Research shows that the number of people in China living with depression and anxiety has increased substantially over the past three decades. A Global Burden of Disease analysis estimated that the number of people with depressive disorders rose by 54% between 1990 and 2021, while the number with anxiety disorders increased by 31%.

However, the picture becomes more complicated when the figures are adjusted for changes in population size and age structure. By these measures, the prevalence of depression actually declined slightly, while the prevalence of anxiety remained relatively stable. In other words, an increase in the total number of people affected does not necessarily mean that an individual's risk has increased.

Another important source of information is the China Mental Health Survey, published in The Lancet Psychiatry in 2019. This nationally representative study surveyed 32,552 adults across China and estimated that 16.6% had experienced a mental disorder at some point in their lives, excluding dementia, while 9.3% had experienced one in the preceding 12 months. Anxiety disorders were the most common category, with a lifetime prevalence of 7.6% and a 12-month prevalence of 5.0%.

These figures do not prove that competition causes mental health problems. But they make me think about the pressures people face, especially young people.

In China, competition can begin remarkably early. Some children face intense pressure to perform well in elementary school, prepare for examinations, attend extracurricular classes, and keep up with their peers. Parents worry that their children will fall behind, and children may absorb those worries. One family's anxiety can become another family's pressure, creating a cycle in which everyone feels compelled to do more.

Anxiety can spread through families, sometimes without anyone intending it. Parents who want the best for their children may communicate their fears through constant reminders, high expectations, or comparisons with other children. The children, in turn, may begin to believe that they are never doing enough.

This makes me think about my little grandson. I talked to my son about the importance of not placing too much pressure on the little boy as he grows up.

Then I realized something: perhaps I should start by examining my own worries. If I want my grandson to grow up with less anxiety, I need to be careful not to pass my anxieties on to his parents, either.

We cannot eliminate competition from life, nor can we protect children from every difficulty. But we can help them understand that their worth is not measured by grades, achievements, or how they compare with others. Perhaps giving the next generation a little less pressure begins with learning to worry a little less ourselves.

10/4/2026

Yesterday was Saturday. We went to Central Park in Manhattan with my son's family. It was the baby's first trip there.

That morning, I had read an article from Emory University about a study examining how grandmothers' brains respond to pictures of their grandchildren. The study, published in Proceedings of the Royal Society B in 2021, used functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) to observe brain activity in 50 grandmothers.

Here are the main findings.

1. Grandmothers showed strong emotional responses to their grandchildren.

When the grandmothers looked at pictures of their grandchildren, brain regions associated with emotional empathy showed increased activity. The researchers suggested that grandmothers may be especially responsive to their grandchildren's emotions. When a grandchild smiles, a grandmother may share the child's joy; when the child cries, she may feel the child's distress.

2. Their responses to their adult children were somewhat different.

When the same grandmothers looked at pictures of their adult sons or daughters, brain regions associated with cognitive empathy showed stronger activation. This suggests a more analytical kind of response: trying to understand what an adult child is thinking or feeling, and why.

The researchers suggested that young children's “cute factor” may help explain the difference. A baby's face can evoke an immediate emotional response that an adult child's face may not trigger in the same way.

3. Grandmothers may be part of a broader human caregiving system.

The study adds to evidence that caregiving involves a network of brain processes that extends beyond biological parents. Throughout human history, children have often been cared for by other family members, including grandparents. In some societies, grandmothers play a particularly important role in helping raise the next generation.

There is a Chinese saying, 儿不嫌娘多 (ér bù xián niáng duō) which roughly means, “A child can never have too many mothers.” It expresses the idea that a child can benefit from the love and care of more than one mother figure. In this sense, a grandmother's love is adding another source of care, affection and support.

Perhaps this is one reason grandmothers have played such an important role in families across generations. Science may help us understand the brain activity behind caregiving, but the value of having more people love and care for a child has long been understood in family life.

Of course, the study has limitations. It involved only 50 participants, who were physically and mentally healthy and actively engaged as grandmothers. We cannot assume that every grandmother responds in the same way. The researchers also noted that further studies could examine grandfathers and explore differences across cultures.

What struck me most about this article was the connection between the scientific findings and my own experience. Perhaps the science is beginning to explain something many grandmothers have felt for generations: the joy of loving a child again, this time from a different place in life.

One reader asks, “好奇爷爷啥反应，与奶奶的又有啥量化上的区别?” 

—wait for another research on grandpa!

10/3/2026

We are all familiar with the Chinese saying 失败是成功之母 (Shībài shì chénggōng zhī mǔ): “Failure is the mother of success.”

Today, I heard another saying that challenges this idea: “Success is the mother of success.” In other words, small successes build confidence, develop skills, and pave the way for greater achievements.

But what about failure? I also heard this saying: 最好的失败是别人的失败 (Zuì hǎo de shībài shì biérén de shībài): “The best failure is someone else’s failure.”

Because we can learn from other people's mistakes without having to pay the price ourselves.

This reminds me of another saying: “Learn from other people's mistakes.” It also brings to mind a relative of mine who tried to shield her son from the unpleasant realities of life when he was growing up. But that's another story.

I like the idea that the best failure is someone else's. Here is why.

First, failure can be an expensive teacher.

When we make mistakes, we may gain wisdom, but we also pay a price: lost money, wasted time, damaged relationships, embarrassment, or missed opportunities.

When someone else makes a mistake, we have an opportunity to learn the same lesson without suffering the same consequences. In that sense, other people's failures offer us free lessons—if we pay attention.

Second, we often underestimate how easily we could make the same mistakes.

When we see someone else make a poor decision, we may think, “I'm smarter than that. I would never do such a thing.”

But life is rarely that simple. We may lack the information the other person lacked, face similar pressures, or fall into the same trap under different circumstances.

To learn from someone else's failure, we need to ask ourselves:

• What exactly went wrong?

• What did the person fail to notice?

• Which assumptions turned out to be wrong?

• What might I have done in the same situation?

• Under what circumstances could I make the same mistake?

The goal is not to judge the person who failed, but to understand what happened and what we can learn from it.

A biography, documentary, memoir, or even a friend's unfortunate experience can offer us something valuable: borrowed experience. We cannot live every life or make every mistake, but we can learn from the lives and mistakes of others.

Perhaps the best kind of wisdom is learning a lesson without having to suffer its consequences ourselves.

The best part is we don't have to experience every failure personally to become wiser.