Despite his campaign pledge to face the general public, chief executive contender Donald Tsang Yam-kuen declined an invitation from 600 elderly people last week, citing his busy schedule meeting Election Committee members. Evidently, political support from the elderly for his candidacy does not concern Mr Tsang, and neither has he given a priority to welfare of the elderly in his political agenda. Mr Tsang's attitude towards the elderly, who are estimated to number about 800,000 in Hong Kong, underscores a harsh reality here: the aged have neither political clout nor economic power. They are, in fact, a group of invisible people, conspicuously missing from the public scene. Think of the television programmes you have watched over the past weeks. How many tackled the issues of growing old in our society? The number is likely to be miniscule. Today, managers of local TV channels are fond of soap operas from South Korea and reality shows from Hollywood. Almost universally, dramas unfold around pretty women and handsome men. No one seems to remember that people aged over 65 here have made great contributions to our society, and their experiences tell the story of how Hong Kong has gone from being barren rock to a remarkable city. It is true that documentaries about the elderly appear from time to time. But more often than not, the aged are portrayed as helpless hospital patients and passive social-service recipients, rather than great contributors. Pause a second and try to recall how many stores you have seen tailored to the needs of the elderly in all those gigantic shopping malls? In Hong Kong, there are more than enough shops selling beauty products, expensive watches, jewellery and designer clothes, but few with wheelchairs, hearing aids, or home-based medical equipment. In a city where consumerism prevails, the elderly are excluded even as consumers. Growing old in Hong Kong is like a disease that must be kept out of sight. This mentality means that the elderly are like an underclass, living a life less dignified, with their needs insufficiently attended to. Across the border, elderly people are highly visible and live with dignity and respect. In the morning, hundreds and thousands gather in parks. They assemble themselves into groups doing tai chi or ballroom dancing, and join choirs, often spending entire mornings stretching their legs or singing at the top of their voices. On the mainland, there is a sense of care for the elderly in society. Some TV programmes provide tips for medical care, others teach the basics for bathing, dressing and food preparation for the different seasons. City officials make routine visits to retirement homes in their districts during major national holidays and festivals. It is very difficult to argue that elderly people in the mainland are politically or economically more powerful than their Hong Kong counterparts. Neither could we attribute the benefits they enjoy solely to the socialist system. Being an affluent city, Hong Kong can afford to give a little more to its elderly. The disparity between the two populations can only be explained by the differences in the perception of rights and responsibilities. Having made their contribution to society, the elderly have a right to be respected and to share the fruits of social development. And the younger generation must take responsibility to ensure the welfare of the older generation. Elderly people link the past with the present. The way they are treated reflects very much how they remember the past. The way Hong Kong's elderly live not only tells us how unappreciative we are of our older generation, but also implies that we are unlikely to learn from the past. With such an attitude, Hong Kong is unlikely to advance too far in the future. Kitty Poon is a Hong Kong-based commentator
