*Tan 谈 is used in the phrase tan hua (to discuss) and jia 价 comes from the word jia ge (price). Put them together and you get tan jia 谈价 (to haggle) or literally discuss the price.

Which do you prefer, the sterile safety of a predetermined price or the dynamic rough and tumble of haggling? Negotiating a price is far less predictable, but also engages the human heart: I tell you what I want and you tell me what you want, then we find a way to compromise. Whereas having the price dictated silences your voice, with a payoff of safe predictability.

There was a time in China when you could haggle anytime, over any item or service. People would line up in markets to bargain over a head of cabbage. Ruthless customers would try to bust the vendors down a few cents, while the sellers scrapped for their livelihood. Sometimes fist fights would break out or they’d end up screaming obscenities at each other. In that case, the discussion had gone a little too far.

One of the more notorious venues for haggling was the fake market, where one could purchase a knock off Rolex or stacks of pirated DVDs for a good price, if your negotiation skills were sharp enough. The dramatics that happened in that place would make Italian footballers blush in shame. Sellers would open with comically high prices. They’d act personally betrayed if you tried to bargain them down. But truthfully, they wouldn’t respect you if you didn’t try to squeeze every last penny out of them. What unfolded often resembled a nasty breakup between a couple who despised each other – one person would walk away in disgust, only to be chased down by the other. “Come on, don’t walk away. Let’s discuss. We can work this out.”

As a foreigner in China it was doubly terrible. You were always at a disadvantage as haggling requires linguistic finesse. Often your words were either too blunt or too weak and you left paying more than you could have.

I found this cultural arrangement completely exhausting, preferring the quiet calm of a predetermined price. This is why taxi rides were often a respite from the transactional carnage happening in the streets. The red numbers on the meter would start at a certain number, increase in a predictable manner, and when you arrived at your destination the cost was what it was.

Sure, there were times even cabbies tried to haggle. I had a guy drive me halfway home from the airport and when we were in the middle of nowhere he demanded a ridiculous price otherwise I’d have to get out and walk. Yes, there were times like this. When you’d get swarmed by drivers at the train station, hungry jackals looking to take a hunk out of your wallet, or were refused a ride because someone on the next corner would pay more. But as time went on haggling in cabs became less and less.

***

Taxis were a safe space, a place of human growth and flourishing. The conversations you’d have were genuine human connections, not just transactions of filthy money. In fact, if we could all ride in a taxi every single day for the rest of our lives, I’m certain lasting world peace would be achieved within a generation.

One particular night I was having a great conversation with my driver. We were cruising along, chatting about the weather and what was new around town. At a stop light he turned to me and said, “I like you Americans, you don’t haggle.”

I was incredulous. “Haggle? Is that still a thing? People still do that?”

“Yeah”, he said. “Just the other night I was driving someone to work, and when we got there the price was seventeen and he wanted to pay ten.”

“Ten!?.... What!? I never heard something like that.”

“Yeah”, he said.

“So, what’d you do?”

“Well, I told him the price on the meter is the price. We don’t haggle,” he said. “But the guy got very upset and we started arguing back and forth.”

I was shocked. “Wow, that’s unbelievable. People are so crazy nowadays.”

“…yeah, but that’s not all. As we were screaming at each other, he called my mother a whore!!”

“Are you kidding me!!? What is wrong with this guy….”

“I know, so we got out of the cab and started scuffling in the street.”

“Well, that’s good, good for you, it always pays to stick up for yourself.”

“Yeah. And then we started fighting in the street and he ripped my jacket.”

“He did!? What did you do?”

“So, I stabbed him with a screwdriver!!!!”

Whoa. Whoa. Whoa, I was NOT expecting you to say that! This story has taken a turn for the worst. But now I was really curious, so I probed further. “Then what happened?”

“Well, the police came and interviewed both of us. And the guy was lying there bleeding on the curb and he said he wanted a thousand yuan to pay for his hospital bill.”

“That’s a lot of money.”

“Right. So, I bargained him down to 150 and the cops let us go.”

You can do that!!? All these years, I’ve seen people bargaining for DVDs and cabbage, never grasping the full extent of this haggling culture. Far be it from me to assume they aren’t also giving out deep discounts on wounding others. Wow.

Also. Only 150? I mean people say a lot of negative things about China these days. They say the government is no good, the pollution is out of control and the cost of living is way too high.

Say what you will, but the cost of stabbing somebody with a screwdriver is still SO AFFORDABLE!

He gave me a playful wink and patted something in the front seat cupholder.

“I’ve still got it,” he said. There next to him was the offending culprit. An orange handled 8-inch Phillips screwdriver.

But he wasn’t trying to threaten me, I could tell deep down my driver was a very sweet man. And he seemed oblivious as to why anyone would be shocked by his story. The look on his face and his overall demeanor showed he was genuinely proud of himself, like a second grader bringing home some horrific piece of artwork they made at school.

Awkwardly I muttered, “Wow, that’s nice one…”

Turns out you could haggle over anything.

***

A predetermined price is cold and unfeeling. It overtly screams OUR INTERACTION IS MERELY TRANSACTIONAL. Yet it is safe.

You’ll never see clerks in America get into a row with customers over the price of pork cutlets. But you’ll never see genuine human connection in these public spaces either. The marketplace in America has been infiltrated by dead interactions, fake smiles, and empty politeness. The clerks and customers could just as easily be robots (and someday soon probably will be).

Haggling, on the other hand is more authentic, both parties being honest that they want more for less.

Though human connection runs the risk of going violently awry, perhaps it is the only path true peace. My driver and I came from totally different worlds, but had met in the middle to find our common humanity.

As we pulled up to my apartment, he looked slightly sad that our conversation was over. “You Americans are alright,” he told me.

“Hey, you’re not so bad yourself.”

As he put the cab in park, the meter read 25.

“eh, don’t worry about it, what a great conversation, just give me 20.”

“No 25 is fine! Really. I’m happy to pay!”

I’m not going to argue, better to just pay the man what he’s due. Haggling might be fun for some people, but it’s not for everyone.

How far will you go to save a few pennies? It’s a game of brinkmanship, that occasionally slips into catastrophe. And personally, I’d rather be gouged with a price than gouged with a screwdriver.

You Don’t Haggle (你不谈价*)