China is bearing the environmental cost for much of the world

Hear the words of Ma Jun, a watcher of rivers and skies, who once declared with grave clarity: “China is bearing the environmental cost for much of the world because China is the factory of the world.” These words are not cast lightly, for they carry the weight of mountains darkened by coal dust, of rivers poisoned with dye, of skies dimmed beneath smoke. In them lies a truth that binds all nations together: the goods in our homes, the devices in our hands, the clothes upon our backs, are not free of consequence. The true price is paid elsewhere, upon the soil and in the lungs of those who labor where factories roar.

He speaks of environmental cost, a debt not written in coin but in poisoned waters, wasted lands, and sickened lives. For when a nation rises to produce the world’s goods, it does not only bear the burden of labor but also of waste. The rivers of China, once flowing clear, now run heavy with the discharge of industries feeding foreign markets. The skies of Beijing and other great cities have often grown so thick with smoke that the sun itself is veiled. This is the hidden tax of being the factory of the world: to carry the scars of another’s consumption.

History shows us that this is not new. In the 19th century, Britain was the workshop of the world. Her factories poured out textiles and steel, but her cities were blackened by soot, and her rivers—like the Thames—became foul with refuse. The wealth of empire was built upon the suffering of her own land and people, until reform slowly brought cleaner laws and methods. Now the pattern repeats: China, like Britain before, sacrifices the purity of her earth so that distant nations may fill their shelves.

Consider also the tale of the Cuyahoga River in the United States, which in the year 1969 caught fire from the filth poured into it. That fire became a turning point, awakening America to its environmental crisis and giving rise to the Clean Water Act and the Environmental Protection Agency. The lesson is clear: no nation can endure long while carrying unchecked the burden of production. The land itself will rise in protest—through sickness, disaster, and decline—until men change their ways.

Ma Jun’s words remind us that while China bears the cost, the guilt is not hers alone. Those who consume the goods share in the responsibility for their creation. Every phone assembled, every garment stitched, every toy shipped abroad, carries within it a portion of China’s air and water. Thus, the environmental cost is not simply China’s burden, but the world’s debt. The question is whether we will acknowledge this shared responsibility or continue to look away.

The meaning of this teaching is both sorrowful and urgent: globalization has bound us together, but also divided the suffering from the benefit. The wealthier nations reap the products; the producing nations reap the pollution. To see this clearly is to understand that justice must go beyond borders. For no wall or ocean can contain the winds of pollution, no border can shield the climate from change. What is borne in one land will soon enough be felt in all.

What, then, is the lesson for future generations? It is this: to consume is also to choose. Every purchase, every demand for cheaper goods, carries with it unseen consequences. Do not be blind to the hidden cost of convenience. Support industries that honor sustainability, demand transparency from those who produce, and stand with those who fight for cleaner laws in their lands. For if one nation bears the cost for all, the burden will break her, and with her, the balance of the earth itself.

So I say to you, children of tomorrow: remember Ma Jun’s words. Do not leave the weight of your desires upon the shoulders of distant workers and distant rivers. Choose wisely, live with restraint, and support those who weave prosperity with care for creation. For only when all nations share both the labor and the responsibility can the earth endure. In this lies the path to justice, harmony, and survival.