The real threat to Chinese culture is not a logo, but political interpretation
A former host recently criticized Taiwan Power Company's logo change, not only questioning the design and budget but also further arguing that this represents the DPP government's gradual "de-Sinicization" and even the purging of Chinese culture. Society has already discussed extensively whether the Taipower font is aesthetically pleasing or if official statements have been inconsistent. However, what is truly unsettling may not be a logo, but the demand that culture can only have one political interpretation.
If Chinese culture were truly to disappear in Taiwan, the first thing to vanish would not be a font, but life itself. Taiwan still uses traditional Chinese characters, calligraphy competitions are held annually across the island, and the Ministry of Education has long subsidized calligraphy education. The National Palace Museum continues to launch calligraphy exhibitions, with works from the Preface to the Orchid Pavilion to calligraphy by various dynasties always being important exhibits. If even such a society can be called "eliminating Chinese culture," then what is truly being reduced is likely not culture, but the definition of culture.
Every year, the ceremony honoring Confucius still fully preserves the Bayi Dance and ancient rites. The dancers wear traditional ceremonial robes and complete the entire ritual amidst bells, drums, and elegant music. From movements and formations to the sacrificial text, all still adhere to traditional specifications. This culture, originating from the Zhou Dynasty rites, has not disappeared due to Taiwan's democratization; instead, it continues to be carried on by local governments, schools, and the public.
Folk beliefs are even more so. From Dajia Mazu to Beigang Mazu, the scale of the pilgrimage grows larger each year, with participants becoming younger. The flying eaves of temples are still adorned with Jiaozi pottery and traditional cut-and-paste mosaics; incense, gongs, drum troupes, and pilgrimage routes still constitute Taiwan's most distinctive folk cultural landscape. Cultures that truly disappear often leave life first, but these elements have not only not left but continue to expand.
One of the most common sayings in recent years is, "Since we don't recognize China, why do we still use Chinese?" This statement, while seemingly about culture, truly demands obedience in the interpretation of culture. Because the underlying logic is: as long as one does not accept China's political stance, one is not worthy of using this culture. When culture is required to obey a single political center, it is no longer just culture; it slowly becomes a form of identity check.
Today, someone can question, "Since we don't recognize China, why do we still use Chinese?" Tomorrow, they can continue to question who is qualified to talk about Confucius, who is qualified to worship Mazu, and who is qualified to preserve these traditions. The terrifying thing is never someone changing a logo, but someone starting to believe that culture needs political authorization.
(The author is a commentator)
