Red Herring has published an article on a widely known but rarely discussed phenonmenon of the co-mingling of nightlife and business scene in China. In it, Red Herring profiles the nightlife of 25-35 year old Asian American ex-pats who usually runs in the same business (private equity, consulting, banking, venture) and social (ex-pat, young professionals, english speaking) circles due to hugely overlapping demographics.

Remember Peter Chung? Back in May 2001, Mr. Chung was a 24-year-old Princeton University grad posted to Seoul by the Carlyle Group and living, by his own account, quite large. A week and a half into his new buy-side job, he emailed home telling friends about his opulent digs, about riding around in the VP’s Porsche, about the bankers who treated him to rounds of golf, banqueted him, and took him clubbing—and about his intention to bed every hot woman in Korea: “5 down, 1,000,000,000 left to go,” he wrote.

Mr. Chung’s email circled the globe, eventually finding its way to his bosses at Carlyle, who promptly fired him.

The picture he painted is familiar to young people working at investment banks, private equity firms, or VCs almost anywhere in East Asia, Beijing included. China’s tech boom has given rise to a new class of moneyed elites—overwhelmingly young, single men in their late 20s and early 30s—for whom nightlife is an integral part of business.

I have a ton of friends out in China (Shanghai and Beijing) who are living that lifestyle. What the Red Herring article doesnt mention is that similar “scenes” exist for Asian Americans in many of the large cities in the U.S. . . SF, NY, Seattle, Boston, LA, etc. . . All these was borne out a influx of asian american immigration into the U.S. the mid 80’s to early 90’s. (which I’m part of). Asian American penetration in the top universities (ivy’s, stanford, berkeley etc) began to climb in the middle of the 90’s as a result. Taking off shackles of our parents’ expectations to be doctors or engineers, we took our ambitions and work ethics and applied it to our business/professional goals instead (chasing the old might dollar instead ). A whole generation of Asian Americans eventually entered the work force as junior bankers, consultants, venture capitalists, and PE analysts into previously white male dominated industries . . . Driven by similar goals, education backgrounds, cultural identities, and professional expereiences they congregated together in the after hours and weekends sharing their travails. . . thus formed the beginning of the social scene.

Almost five year later we have reached a phase in our careers to not just be entry level employees but to take on increasingly important roles within our firms and companies. The rise of China as an economic power has given many of us the opportunity to take our career to the next level and create our own rules and opportunities . . . to be kings and king makers . . . (ironically the same reasons our parents immigrated to the US in the first place). So the mass reverse migration back into China began almost 3-4 years ago (the Chinese calls these Asian Americans, “Sea Turtles”) . . . one friend convincing another . . . and thus the social scene migrated BACK into China’s major cities intermingling with traditional Chinese night-life (which the article mentions at the end) to become what it is today. . .

The women aren’t working girls, Mr. Lee insists, though the assumption could be forgiven. Their bare midriffs, plunging necklines, and microshorts leave little to the imagination but he says they’re secretaries, teachers, or personal assistants, “and they all speak English.”

But there’s another woman at the table—much more conservatively dressed, doing no gyrating. Ling Ong, a Singaporean who recently completed her law degree at Oxford University, has just started a three-month stint as a paralegal. “You see the same sort of thing in clubs in Singapore or in London,” she says. “It’s just not so blatant.”

Watching Mr. Lee in action, she comments with measured ambivalence: “He certainly seems at ease with the whole scene.”

While he insists he doesn’t “party to facilitate business,” Mr. Lee estimates that 80 percent of club time is business-related.