
19 minute read
After the Crackdowns and Lockdowns: Finding Your Path with Jason Yip & Till Kraemer
Interview: Ethan Chan and Charmaine Leung Writing: Ethan Chan
Depression. Anger. Exhaustion. Boredom. Misery. Loneliness. Frustration. Hopelessness.
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Stepping straight from the political turmoil of 2019 into the deadly pandemic of 2020, the past two years have gravely challenged Hong Kongers, maybe more than at any other time in the city’s history. For Hong Kong’s youth, at times it seems as if tomorrow is unreachable; as if we are stuck in a time loop, forced to relive the same police crackdowns and COVID lockdowns over and over again. But, as the dually cliche and comforting saying goes, once we hit rock bottom, the only way left to go is up: perhaps, by imagining a future beyond the masks and fumes, we can salvage a glimmer of hope to keep ourselves going in these difficult times.
But what does our future look like? For many bright young Hong Kongers, especially here in Cambridge, an ideal future is clinching a berth at a summer internship program for a prestigious consulting company, law firm, or i-bank, getting a training contract, being offered a full-time job, rising up the ranks… The game-plan is familiar and reassuring, sure to please family and impress friends.
And yet, many of us, myself included, feel disillusioned by this yellow-brick road. Witnessing the injustices unveiled by grassroots movements at home and abroad, as well as the social disparities exacerbated by the health and economic crises wrought by the pandemic, I’ve spoken to many young people who want to “make a difference,” but are at a loss for how to do so. As such, I had a chat with Till Kraemer and Jason Yip, two people who sacrificed conventionally “successful” careers to chart their own courses, doing what they love while simultaneously contributing to the betterment of society. I talked to them about how young people can navigate the murky waters of Hong Kong’s future and carve out their own path.

Rags to riches to rags: Jason Yip’s story
Jason was just a regular Hong Kong kid. His dad was a security guard. His mom worked at a petrol station. Both hadn’t finished high school but worked their hardest to support Jason’s ascendance to Hong Kong University, where he eventually landed everyone’s dream job as an analyst at Goldman Sachs. He had a golden future ahead of him, a glittering route up both the company pyramid and Hong Kong’s social ladder. He had the world at his fingertips.
And yet, instead of continuing on the lucrative, prestigious path of banking, Jason made a ludicrous decision (at least in the eyes of his mother and father); he battled for a position at the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), where he engaged in humanitarian aid in Palestine, Afghanistan, and Myanmar, risking his life in war-torn regions of the world while conducting dialogue with non-state military groups. After being deployed to various ICRC outposts around the world, as well as its headquarters in Geneva, he recently returned to Hong Kong, taking up a post as the CEO of MWYO, a think-and-do tank that influences government policy on youth development alongside running internship programmes for under-resourced students.
Throughout his journey, Jason made what many would consider an impossible decision: relinquishing a distinguished, secure, well-paid job at a reputable company to negotiate with the Taliban and almost get blown up. He veered away from the well-trodden track; but in doing so he found meaning and expanded his vision beyond the boundaries of “Asia’s World City.”

The people-loving computer nerd: Till Kraemer’s story
While Jason was commencing his journey, on the other side of the planet, Till Kraemer was watching the sheep mill about in his small German hometown. Till was just an ordinary German teen, bored half to death by his mundane surroundings, he entertained himself by building computers and mastering coding. His brilliance and curiosity allowed him to leap past the fences of his backyard and be admitted to Oxford, where he studied both undergrad and a master’s in mathematics and Computer Science.
Despite the severe career pressures of attending a world-class academic institution like Oxford, Till was fortunately “inoculated” against such social pressure by his hippy mom. As such, he turned down a job offer from world-class electronics company Siemens. This was because he realized during his studies (and through his involvement in worldwide student organization AIESEC) that his true passion was for education and connecting people from across the globe. He thus moved to Taiwan to teach, and eventually found his way to Hong Kong, where he became the Co-Founder and General Manager of Intercultural Education (ICE).
ICE is a social enterprise that connects people to understand our globalized world, utilizing the “internationalness” of Hong Kong to spark curiosity in learning as well as resolve ignorance and misunderstandings about other peoples and cultures. ICE has brought volunteers from more than 90 different countries into over 50 local classrooms over the past decade; while many students lack the means to explore the world, ICE brings the world to them. Through ICE, Till did work with immense social value that he also enjoyed deeply, despite the fact that education had little if anything to do with his degree.
Till started off as an introverted computer geek, nowhere even close to what most would consider the “entrepreneurial” type; nowadays, he’s inspired countless students across Hong Kong through ICE, while also running a new travelling-oriented start-up called Storius.

Till with his friends at Intercultural Education (ICE), where he has brought people from all over the world into local classrooms.
Being practical: calculating the cost-benefit analysis of your paths
Speaking to both Jason and Till about their amazing stories, one thing was for sure: they didn’t stumble onto their paths by accident. Although luck is always a factor, both of them left very little down to chance, through their meticulous planning and pursuit of their goals.
First, Till shared extensively about “being a cold-hearted economist” when it comes to your future, making your values, feelings, and priorities as explicit as possible. He recommended weighing different options in a scrupulous fashion, instead of insisting on an emotional “follow your heart” approach to your career. This could be done by contemplating various factors (be it money, interest, free time, welfare, or holidays) in a practical way when making decisions, and by being calculative when thinking about the benefits each job would give, as well as the opportunity costs of each new endeavour. Till advocated the use of cost-benefit analyses in these situations, even for determining things like “how much is my relationship with my parents worth?” Though this can seem overly detached and impersonal, it is necessary to have these conversations about your priorities, in order to clear out your internal contradictions and make well-thought-out decisions.


Jason adopted a very similar philosophy of practicality and thorough planning when it comes to your future. In addition, coming from a working-class family, Jason emphasized the importance of financial independence and self-sustainability when it came to choosing careers: “don’t let your dream become your family’s nightmare!” he implored. He also discussed being honest with yourself about your chances at certain outcomes, especially as a fresh graduate; he advised that one can hold back a bit first, taking the time to mature as well as acquire the skills and know-how needed before setting off to chase their dreams. Basically, don’t be impatient and endlessly bang your head against the same wall; instead, consider your options, as perhaps accumulating experience somewhere else could open the door for you.
In fact, that’s exactly what Jason himself did: after all, his parents were living in a public housing estate, and he needed funding not just for daily expenses, but also to further invest in himself through a master’s degree. So, Goldman was a great company to simultaneously build up his financial safety net while also obtaining work experience that would be applicable to his later jobs. “NGOs rarely have the resources for early-career training, but the private sector does,” Jason explained. But he knew from the first day that he was going to leave after 4 years; he even reflected this to his job interviewer, who, needless to say, was quite astonished (but also impressed by his candour). As can be seen, both guts and the ability to plan ahead (and having contingency plans in case things go awry) are of utmost importance for one’s future.
Finding meaning: “painkilling,” challenging norms, and getting angry
But aside from cautiously executing each part of your path, another key point we talked about was finding meaning (“whatever that means!” Till remarked during our chat). And it is true that “meaning” is an incredibly abstract term, one that, well, evades meaning. But more than just some vague platitude, meaning is something many of us seek. It is the reason that many young people feel apprehensive and suspicious of the aforementioned yellow brick road, the “ideal future” of running up the ranks in a corporate job: for many of us, that path fundamentally lacks meaning. To gain insight into the elusive concept of “meaning,” I asked both Till and Jason to share what gave them meaning in their work.
Jason’s answer was rather straightforward. In his former job at the ICRC, he was tasked with handling situations of armed conflict; to him, acting as innocent civilians' “painkiller,” and maintaining the minimum level of order in circumstances where everything is out of control, was meaningful in and of itself. Moreover, he realized that if he continued on in his banking job, he would not have exceeded his parent’s ambitions, in the sense that they also concentrated solely on social mobility and enhancing their economic conditions. He wanted to go above and beyond that: hence he found meaning not just in protecting non-combatants in war zones, but also by leaving his footprint in momentous world events and representing Hong Kongers on the world stage.
On the other hand, in his current role at the MWYO, Jason found meaning in redefining established rules and defying social norms: “why do we filter out non-university graduates from internship opportunities, when often they have skill sets that suit the workplace much better than their college-educated peers?” Jason proclaimed. For him, meaning is created when he interrogates and dismantles previously unchallenged assumptions. He believes that oftentimes, adults neglect their responsibilities as facilitators for the next generation, and instead their unfounded prejudices act as hurdles that obstruct youth’s development. “Taking down these hurdles not only gives me meaning, but also makes me feel younger!” Jason chuckled, amusement apparent in his toothy grin.
But for Till, “meaning” is much more ambiguous, even illusory: “on a deep level, I don’t think you can say that there is a definite meaning to anything,” he ponders. However, superficially speaking, he acknowledges that subjective feelings of “meaning” and “fulfilment” do exist. He personally experiences meaning when discovering new things and helping others discover them; to him, (intellectual) curiosity is a crucial source of meaning. Beyond that, a specific instance of meaning that he recounted was when he witnessed his students surpassing generalized expectations for learning, such as when girls get interested in STEM and guys find fascination for languages: similar to Jason, breaking norms is certainly meaningful for Till.


However, in the quest for meaning, Till also warns against doing something “meaningful” just for the sake of it. He dissects a common phenomenon, where people who want to “make a difference,” but don’t know how, settle for something vaguely meaningful, like travelling to underdeveloped countries to build houses. Though doing so still has a somewhat positive effect, it often serves to placate our guilt and lull us into complacency more than spur us into meaningful, sustained action. That’s why, for Till, “recognizing what makes you truly angry” is paramount to finding meaning. This may seem baffling at first, but the logic is simple: distinguishing the issue that sincerely ticks you off, the social problem that you feel passionate for and genuinely care about solving, is the first step towards enacting a persistent plan to “make a difference” in whatever area you so choose. After all, it is much more effective to concentrate on meaningful work to tackle a particular social ill, than to do random charitable acts with little long-term impact. As such, Till’s advice is simple: the issue is far more important than “helping” in general, so go find what makes you angry!
Considering alternatives: What if? What else?
Besides their individual interpretations of “meaning,” our discussion with Jason and Till also ventured into speculative territory: would they have been able to find meaning if they had continued on the corporate paths that they had so long ago forsaken? Or would they have ended up quitting after a while, and eventually gravitated back to their current paths?
Amusingly, they both balked at such a proposition, articulating acute repulsion for this blasphemous “what if.” Till pointed out that he had tried conventional career options for a short period of time and knew for a fact that he wouldn’t be able to enjoy them: if he had spent 80% of his waking time on such a career, he was quite certain that he would’ve hated himself. Jason felt the same: by the tail end of his banking career, he not only dreaded returning to the office every Monday morning, but he also spent considerable amounts of time on trivial, pointless tasks such as composing emails to make his co-workers (read “competitors”) look bad. At that point, both of them asked themselves whether advancing down this road would be worth it: both came to the resounding conclusion that it wouldn’t be, and then pivoted to paths that suited them far better.
However, despite their own horrific experiences, both Till and Jason agreed that it’s fine to sample such a career; after all, in the search for something as tricky and puzzling as “meaning,” the method of elimination is as good a way to start as any. They also acknowledged that it is perfectly understandable to choose an earnings-and-stability-oriented path, especially if you are from a humble background, as long as you remember that there are many ways to contribute to society through corporates: when Jason was at Goldman, he taught incarcerated juveniles Japanese in his free time. Moreover, in a corporate job, you can still commit yourself to making socially responsible and accountable decisions when you take up a senior management position. The key is to have the fortitude not to compromise on your beliefs, and instead use your values and principles to influence corporate direction.

Another critical point is to take the initiative to switch paths if you realize your current trajectory is not right for you. Jason and Till both expressed frustration at those who tried and didn’t like the “corporate path,” yet refused to step out of their comfort zones to make a change. “If making money is your dream, then you better hope you never wake up!” Jason exclaimed. But if you do become cognizant that money does not bring you meaning, and so find yourself unhappy in your current place, escapism only primes you for a mid-life crisis. Confronting your shifting priorities and instituting consequential changes in your life is the only way to assuage your internal struggles. Both Jason and Till were adamant that being brave enough to chart a different course will benefit you in the long run; but you have to take a leap of faith, or risk having that “what if” at the back of your head for the rest of your life.
Knowing yourself and your city: the way forward
Besides their individual interpretations of “meaning,” our discussion with Jason and Till also ventured into speculative territory: would they have been able to find meaning if they had continued on the corporate paths that they had so long ago forsaken? Or would they have ended up quitting after a while, and eventually gravitated back to their current paths?
But one thing is clear: regardless of whether you choose a comfortable corporate professional life, blaze a trail off the beaten path, or attempt a bit of both, it is essential to know yourself, because there is no “right path,” only a path that is right for you. After all, some people may find more happiness and success in well-structured situations, whereas others thrive in more of a sandbox setting. Till suggested doing an easy exercise to know more about yourself and get your priorities straight: envisioning how you would divide up your time if you had no money concerns. For Till, this amounted to spending 25% on exploring nature, 25% on running ICE and Storius, 25% on personal hobby projects, and 25% on learning random stuff with no purpose. Asking yourself these questions can help you more precisely understand your beliefs and values.
Jason also highlighted the need to figure out your own life values and choose your path accordingly. He is worried because many young people don’t know what they want when they make serious decisions. In his eyes, this is ironic: Hong Kong students spend immeasurable amounts of time studying so many different subjects, honing their expertise in a multitude of fields, yet as a result they end up knowing more about their textbooks than they do about themselves! “Hong Kongers in general are highly educated and boast countless certificates and achievements, but sadly too many of them have no vision,” Jason maintained. As can be seen, vision, direction, and self-understanding are vital towards selecting a path that works for you; both Till and Jason spoke to the significance of knowing yourself before making plans and laying out your path.

But other than knowing yourself, it is also imperative that we know our city, Hong Kong. As a social entrepreneur himself, Till described the many competitive advantages of Hong Kong: it is a great place to start a company not only because it is financially affordable and legally simple, but also because there is an abundance of support. Ranging from the Hong Kong Social Enterprise Challenge to the Good Seed Programme at PolyU to the DBS Foundation Social Enterprise Grant, case competitions that can award seed funding and training support are widely available in Hong Kong. These opportunities empower entrepreneurs to get started even without much capital, and excess manpower is also available in the form of interns. Furthermore, there is a comprehensive social entrepreneurship ecosystem in Hong Kong, be it incubators, advisors, or consultants; in fact, as Till comically recalled, there are more supporting organizations than actual social enterprises, which he found out the hard way when he first attended networking events in the field.

However, there are still drawbacks, as the business environment in Hong Kong is primarily geared towards founders, not employees. In this regard, Till concedes that Hong Kong, though a great place to start a (social) enterprise, is not a great place to join an existing one: they usually don’t pay too well, have minimal recruitment efforts, and, in Till’s word, “aren’t sexy to work for.” Nonetheless, he still encourages young people to consider entrepreneurship as a viable alternative pathway, as even if your company doesn’t work out and you go bankrupt, you can still convert your experiences into social capital for your next undertaking. “If you have a great idea, then just start a company!” Till reassures us. “I didn’t think I was an entrepreneurial person, but now I can never go back (to a conventional workplace).”
Shaping the future: reason for hope?
At the end of the day, though, when it comes to imagining our future, we cannot escape politics. Both Jason and Till agreed that the biggest challenge Hong Kong faces is overcoming the political gash that has torn it straight down the middle. From the prevalence of misinformation campaigns to the brain drain of talented people fleeing the city, politics poses a grave crisis, a roadblock in the paths of every single Hong Konger. As wise and experienced as they are, Till and Jason admitted to not having the answer to the problem of politics: whether we, the younger generation, figure out how to solve this dilemma, may very well determine whether our city has a future.
For our sake, Till hopes for a more stable political landscape, noting that without political impediments, Hong Kongers are some of the smartest and most efficient people in the world, capable of incredible group-organization and grassroots campaigns. In fact, despite the common talking point of spoon-feeding education, Till commends the younger generation not just for their tenacity, but also for their problem-solving and critical thinking skills, as displayed in everything from the running of university student organizations to the coordinating of the Umbrella movement. Given the obvious strengths of Hong Kong and its people, Till has a suggestion regarding the race for economic recovery from both the pandemic and the social unrest of the past two years. He borrows this idea from Muhammad Yunus, who won the Nobel Peace Prize for pioneering microcredit in Bangladesh targeted at low-income entrepreneurs: “why are we viewing it as finding jobs for a million people? Why not think about them as a million possible entrepreneurs?” Maybe the way out is to harness Hong Kong’s entrepreneurial spirit!
As for Jason, he believes that reconciliation and healing can only be achieved through learning to compromise and converse with “the other side,” no matter how difficult that may prove to be; though he completely understands the justifiable outrage of younger generations at the authorities and appreciates their boldness in walking to the front of the line, he also thinks that the youth need to have the courage to respect differences and seek compromise. And despite the “new normal” that looms ahead, Jason implores us to keep our heads up and find ways to proactively define new norms and formulate new methods of civil and political participation. As someone who has lived in Syria and Afghanistan, Jason opposes those adults who hype up “hopelessness” and “endgame” rhetoric. Instead, he thinks they should divert their energy towards empowering us young people to shape our collective futures.
“The Afghans can still live and laugh after 50 years of strife and turmoil; why can’t Hong Kong?” For Jason, hope is our most precious asset, one we cannot afford to lose.
Even after everything that Hong Kongers have gone through since 2019, I believe tomorrow is still reachable, and is ours for the taking. Once our masks have been taken off and the fumes have dissipated, we can begin once again to find our paths, to rebuild from the rubble and address the political, social, and economic inequalities that brought our city to its knees. There are so many possibilities, so many different ways we can contribute and make a difference in this harbour, this home, that we all share. Change is possible, but we must work for it.

Stepping into 2021 and beyond, we must remember Joy. Kindness. Inspiration. Passion. Good Fortune. Companionship. Peace. And most importantly, Hope. By finding our paths and imagining our futures, we must rekindle the glow of hope for our city. Soon, it will be OUR TIME.