On the surface, China doesn’t feel all that different from the States. Except for the occasional culture shock, I barely notice I’m in a different country. For one thing, my routine is pretty much the same: I wake up, go to work, come home and eventually find dinner somewhere. I ate out all the time back home, and I eat out all the time here. I’m so used to hearing Chinese back home that it goes in one ear here and out the other.

But every once in a while, something comes up to remind me that I am living in a tightly controlled country: The guards standing at every entrance to every parking lot and building. A popular Web site that I can’t access. The six security cameras that watch and record my every move at work.

Then there was an assignment I got for work today. I was asked to look over it and see if I wanted to polish it—if I did, I would receive monetary compensation. A little strange, I thought, considering my manager had been handing me stories all last week to polish without giving me a choice or any money. Then again, she gave my roommate yesterday some cash after he finished a story involving government workers’ kids. The UNC alum who now works for the company told us that this kind of compensation is nothing unusual.

She also once advised that the answer is always yes here. We will be asked if we wanted to do something—go on a trip, participate in a KTV party, polish a story—and the correct answer is yes. After skimming the story in question, though, I wanted to say no. There was something fishy about it. In fact, it wasn’t even a story; it was a fabricated transcript of a discussion on the Falun Gong that allegedly included scholars from all over the world.

There were, however, no dates of when this discussion happened, no names or associations of the participants and no use of specific data to back the claims the participants made.

Of course, I asked if and where I could find this information. Unfortunately, I was told, this article did not come from within the company. Moreover, it was not going up on the Web site. I reluctantly said I’d do it, immediately sending my conscience into a state of hyperactive guilt production . Haven’t I been trained to ask tough questions? Didn’t I have a high standard for quality and respect for accuracy for all my works?

My only consolation is the hope that a very small number of people will read it, and that they will recognize it’s completely fabricated. The piece came to me referring to Falun Gong as “Falungong cult” or even “Falungong evil cult,” which I edited appropriately. Still, the absence of names and identifications, along with the most unscholarly habit of their “scholars” to simply make claims without citing specific examples, makes the whole thing a frustrating and questionable read.

What saddens me most, though, is not my lack of ethics and my inability to stand up to the Chinese government. I love this country and want to be proud of it, but that the government still engages in and sanctions this kind of thing, that it still even feels the need to do it, undermines their credibility and my faith in the country’s future.