There's no longer any surprise in noting that China has grave

The words of James Fallows, “There’s no longer any surprise in noting that China has grave environmental problems,” are like a bell that tolls in a quiet valley—familiar, unstartling, and yet profoundly mournful. In this simple statement lies both recognition and lament. Once, the world might have been startled to hear of a great civilization drowning in the poisons of its own progress. But now, the astonishment is gone. What remains is the weary knowledge that the earth has long been crying out, and humanity, blinded by ambition, has grown accustomed to the wailing.

The origin of this utterance lies not in disdain but in sober observation. Fallows, a keen-eyed journalist who walked the streets of Beijing and wandered through the haze of industrial China, spoke as one who saw truth beneath the banners of prosperity. In his travels, he encountered skies the color of ash, rivers flowing like darkened ink, and fields where no birds sang. These were not passing anomalies; they were the regular scenery of a nation that had harnessed fire, steel, and smoke to rise with thunderous speed. Thus, his words carry the ancient weight of a witness who, beholding disaster, records it for posterity.

The statement is not only about China—it is about civilization itself. Throughout history, empires have risen upon the shoulders of forests cut down, rivers diverted, and soils stripped bare. Rome cleared vast tracts of Mediterranean woodland to build its fleets; Mesopotamia irrigated until its soil turned to salt. In every age, there comes a moment when the pursuit of power tramples the very ground on which it stands. China, with its vast people and relentless growth, merely embodies in modern form what humanity has repeated again and again.

Consider the tale of the Yellow River, the sorrow of China. For centuries, it nourished dynasties, yet it also drowned countless villages when mismanaged. Its floods were both natural and human-made, for deforestation and reckless farming loosened the soil, filling the river with silt until it raged beyond its banks. Thus, calamity was no surprise—it was the inevitable harvest of neglect. Fallows’s words echo this ancient pattern: when men forget their harmony with earth, ruin becomes not a shock but an expectation.

Yet let us not sink into despair, for the truth of the ancients is that knowledge awakens responsibility. To recognize that the environmental wounds are no longer surprising is also to admit that complacency has set in. If the abnormal becomes normal, then humanity’s spirit has dulled. We must sharpen it again. Let this quote be not a sigh of resignation but a trumpet of warning. For it is far more dangerous when disaster ceases to surprise than when it first alarms us. Alarm awakens action, but indifference breeds doom.

What lesson, then, shall the people take from this? First, that no land, however vast, and no empire, however mighty, can stand secure if its rivers are poisoned and its air is unfit to breathe. Second, that small acts matter. Just as one tree can anchor a hill against erosion, so too can each soul anchor the world by choosing wisely—by refusing waste, by honoring the soil, by protecting the waters. To ignore these is to surrender to the slow decay of all we cherish.

The wise will therefore cultivate not only their fields but also their habits. They will walk when they might drive. They will plant when they might consume. They will speak when silence would permit destruction to advance unchecked. These may seem like gestures as small as drops of water, yet remember: even the Yellow River is born of countless springs.

So let Fallows’s words echo across the ages. Let us not grow numb to the grave problems of our earth, whether in China or elsewhere. Surprise may have faded, but urgency must not. Let future generations say: they heard the cry of the wounded earth, they did not dismiss it, and in their time they chose life over apathy. This is the legacy worth passing down, the heroic task that turns despair into renewal.