BY JEFF CHU Davos
| JANUARY 27 |
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How could I be so stupid? "Are you Victor Chu?" the lady at the
registration desk asked. "Yes" was the right answer. I should have said
"yes." If she was really dumb enough to think that I, a 23-year-old
shrimp-like guy who looks barely past puberty, was the 43-year-old
chairman of an Asian investment firm and a senior policymaker in the Hong
Kong government, then by all means I would be willing to rename myself
Victor.
But no. Turns out I had entered the wrong door--there are several
entrances at Davos, and this one should have had a "no dogs, no
journalists" sign outside it--and was sent to the press entrance for my
proper, lower, non-Victor credentials. I can't say I hadn't been warned.
Before I left for Davos, a colleague had warned me, "You've got one of
the weenie badges." But how was I supposed to know just how weenie that
was?
I am not getting all worked up over nothing. The badge is the forum's
single essential fashion accessory. Wear what you like, but without a
badge around your neck, you are nobody. It's your ID, your meal ticket,
your means of entry into sessions and talks. It's your access card to the
WEF intranet terminals, where you can send messages to other attendees.
It is also a social pheromone, the color a signal as to the social
desirability and usefulness of the person.
So, here's a primer on the Davos class system. (A disclaimer: new levels
of the social strata seem to pop up daily. This may not be a complete
guide to WEF segregation):
The Purple Badge: P is for peon. The purple badge represents the
essential but ignored people, like support staff for sponsor companies or
tech troubleshooters. They're the good bacteria in the Davos intestines--
everybody needs them but pretends they're not there.
The Green Badge: Gofer. If you call a President "boss," then you will
likely wear a green badge. You trail behind your illustrious superior,
tending to his or her whims and helping to identify undesirable badge-
wearers.
The Orange Badge: Weenie. If you looked up the word "weenie" in the Davos
thesaurus, it would read "orange badge, see also hack, most news media,
second class citizen." A tolerated (but barely) life form required to
enter the WEF complex through a back door, after surviving the walk down
a steep, icy slope.
The Blue Badge: Staff. There are in fact degrees of blue-ness. So far,
we've discovered two. Pale blue means junior WEF servitude. Royal blue
means that you are flying high in the WEFocracy. You can remind others of
their proper places in the WEF hierarchy.
The White Badge: You are somebody. Most of the time. Not all white badges
are created equal. For example, the lowest level of white badge (off-
white?) looks deceptively like the others. You get meal sign-up rights
and the blue briefcase. But you don't get a profile in the participants'
facebook or the snazzy, if glitch-prone, iPaq pocket PC. Senior white
badgers get all gifts and perks. Some even get special titles (Media
Leader, Technology Pioneer, BMOC).
So now you know. Equality? Ha! Much of the talk here in Davos is about
the chasm between the world's haves and have-nots. But what do those
white-badgers know about being a have-not? They've never worn an orange
or purple badge! If I could turn the clocks back, I'd claim the Victor-
hood that was almost mine. I was thisclose to being a market magnate and
a white-badger. I guess there's always next year.
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