Hong Kong Skateboarding and Network Capital

Abstract

The importance of East Asia to the skateboard industry is multifaceted. It represents a dense commercial asset where the “cool” of skateboarding can be leveraged for consumption. It is also a global resource for touring professional skateboarders visiting countries such as China, Korea, and Japan to film and photograph their tricks in new locations. The success of such strategies are entwined with a regional network of skateboarders, a group whose subcultural capital is operationalized through network capital. Analysis of these connections highlights that Hong Kong’s prominence in East Asian skateboarding is largely dependent on its position as a global city and hybrid entrepôt. By addressing the conservative culture of skateboarding, and the importance of Hong Kong as a global city rather than a “skateable” city, this article further contributes to the theorizing of skateboarding beyond discussions of space and resistance.

Keywords

skateboarding Hong Kong network capital

Introduction

Hong Kong has developed a scene and emerged as a place to visit on the global skateboarding map. The question that this article seeks to answer is as follows:

Research Question 1: How did Hong Kong become a significant place in regional and global skateboarding, and what does this tells us about skateboarding as it becomes an Olympic sport?

In answering this question, I identify three themes that are of central importance. First, Hong Kong’s historic, cultural, and economic importance as an East Asian global city; and second, the network capital of a select few individuals who are themselves culturally hybrid, navigators between cultural worlds, just as Hong Kong is an entrepôt between China and the West. I argue that skateboarding provides a lens to understand the territory of Hong Kong, and that the paradigm of network capital aids understanding of the social processes of skateboarders and their industry in a global perspective. The third theme of this article is that skateboarding, despite its increasingly multicultural and global cosmopolitanism, remains a conservative culture in which the norms of American professional skateboarding persist. This corresponds with a variety of contemporary work on skateboarding that challenges the subcultural notion that skateboarders be understood primarily in terms of resistance (Borden, 2019; Lombard, 2010; Snyder, 2017; Yochim, 2010). Indeed, in the East Asian context, contacts with North American professional skateboarders can be seen to be an important way in which a local skateboarding scene can become globally relevant. I argue that the exoticism of locations such as Hong Kong feed into the global marketing campaigns of companies such as Vans and Adidas, although it is invariably the accessibility of those locations through networked, hybrid individuals that makes these connections work. The theoretical contribution of this article is to underline that, in a region seldom explored in research on skateboarding, the conservative culture of skateboarding is an accessible and important way to understand the sport globally. This skate conservatism builds on the notion of sociability in network capital, in that, although skateboarders utilize network capital, it is prefigured on subcultural capital that continues to dictate the way in which skateboarding operates as a sport and an industry. A further conceptual point is that although place is important in this discussion, place in terms of “skateability” is secondary. The emergence of Hong Kong as an important location in skateboarding relates more broadly to its success as a global networked city, than to its inherent accessibility to skateboarding. The article, although focusing on Hong Kong, further challenges ideas about the dominance of resistance and space in theorizing skateboarding. It argues that skateboarding as an industry, in a global stage and on a path to the Olympics, continues to be mediated through subcultural connections that are able to draw on extensive networks that reproduce the conservative and protectionist values of the subculture.

Place in Skateboarding

Skateboarding, more so than any other lifestyle sport, has a very close connection to discussions on space, placemaking, and urbanism (Borden, 2001, 2014; Carr, 2013a; Ho, 1999; Jenson, Swords, & Jeffries, 2012; Woolley & Johns, 2010). Much of the research available on skateboarding engages with the city, and its specific locales. These discussion have tended to focus on a variety of Western cities, be they in the United Kingdom (Borden, 2015; Woolley, Hazelwood, & Simkins, 2011), the United States (Carr, 2013b; Howell, 2005; Németh, 2006), or Europe (Bäckström, 2013; L’Aoustet & Griffet, 2004). A few works have looked beyond the global North and discussed skateboarding in places as diverse as South Africa, Afghanistan, and South America (Fitzpatrick, 2012; Friedel, 2015; Machado, 2014; Wheaton, 2013). Although the niche media of the skateboard industry has long been engaged with touring, filming, and reportage beyond the Western world, there is largely an absence of academic discussion on skateboarding in Asia and specifically, East Asia. This is significant as Mehring states that “in Asian cities such as Bangkok, Shanghai, and Tokyo, skateboarding has become its own industry. There, as in the United States, Australia, and Europe, top pros skate the best spots and use the best urban infrastructure” (Mehring, 2015, p. 163). A seminal work by Sedo (2010) discusses the emergence of skateboarding in China. It identifies themes that connect to the universals of skateboard culture, and the particularism of the Chinese experience. At a deeper level, Sedo’s analysis draws on the broader commercial world of skateboarding and shows how North American brands, and their changing favor in the West, provided resources for the early skateboard scene in China. East Asia cannot be overlooked as skateboarding heads to the Olympics. In September 2017, the Vans Park Series held their World Championship competition in Shanghai. This was a deliberate attempt to further develop the China market.

I turn to the postcolonial Chinese city of Hong Kong and consider how it has become a place of significance in the global nexus of the skateboarding industry. It must be underlined that although Hong Kong is a part of China, politically it has its own legal system and quasi-autonomy. Although this is presently in flux, Hong Kong remains commercially a global city much more deeply integrated into the global economy in terms of information flows and accessibility of international brands than cities in the Mainland. Indeed, many Mainland citizens travel to Hong Kong from the neighboring city of Shenzhen to buy groceries, milk powder formula, and clothes that are not accessible or affordable in China. The focus on Hong Kong provides insight to East Asian lifestyle sports, and the territory of Hong Kong. In exploring these connections, the particularities of skateboard culture, its fraternity, conservatism, and continued connection to North America, are revealed.

As a special administrative region of China, Hong Kong has a unique history, it is, however, a small territory of just more than 1,000 square miles with a population of 7.3 million people. The dense urban environment of Hong Kong does not easily lend itself to skateboarding; indeed, throughout my research, I have found that many people are intrigued to learn that Hong Kong has a skateboarding scene and surprised to discover that it has 14 publicly funded skateparks, and as of June 2017, the first House of Vans indoor skatepark in Asia. Skateboarders in Hong Kong may similarly be unaware of the access and opportunity that they have as skateboarders in the territory. Along with world class publicly funded skate parks that are free to access, hundreds of professional skateboarders have made their way through the city over the last 15 years. During my research, there were notable visits from professional skateboarders from the shoe companies Vans, New Balance Numeric, and Converse, along with individual visits from professional skateboarders such as Shane O’Neill (Shanejoneill, 2014) and Torey Pudwill (Red Bull, 2017). Many skateboarders in Hong Kong have enjoyed the privilege of skateboarding with some of their sporting heroes. A contrasting example might be David Beckham turning up to a local park to play recreational football with local school children.

Conceptual Frame

Three dominant motifs inform the conceptual frame of this research, these being network capital, hybridity, and skateboard conservatism. The first extends from the mobilities debate and sees the social network of individuals as a form of social capital (Bourdieu, 1986). Urry describes network capital as an “emergent form of capital” that is typified by the ability to “sustain social relations with those people (and to visit specific places) who are mostly not physically proximate” (Urry, 2007, p. 196). What is consequential about this form of capital is that it is made powerful through various forms of mobility, both afforded by international travel and communications technology. Urry identifies eight elements that are integral to network capital, which are largely focused on access to documentation, communication devices, transportation, and safe accessible spaces to meet those they are connected to. He underlines the fact that mobility is in itself secondary to the “social relations or sociability” it can create (Urry, 2007, p. 197). At the same time, Urry is committed to the new form of capital and sociability that technology and mobility provide. What we explore in this article is the fact that key individuals utilize and possess network capital. This point is significant as it places the focus on individuals rather than the technology they use. In Hong Kong skateboarding, we see that network capital, which facilitates the making and maintenance of global networks, is still secondary to subcultural capital, which remains significant, and oriented toward the skateboard industry in California. My understanding of subcultural capital is premised on Thornton’s (1996) work. Here, subcultural capital is a distinction that is not part of “mass culture,” not class dependent, and not schooled learning. Instead, it includes elements such as informal knowledge, language, posture, and values derived through participation and time spent in the subcultural scene.

An important characteristic of network capital is that it tends to reproduce and remake existing social connections, thus those who are connected can become ever more connected as a result (Rasmussen, 2014). The network capital of snowboarders is discussed by Thorpe (2014) as a valuable asset in accessing employment and visas as they perform their seasonal migrant work and travel. It is, therefore, apparent that network capital is an aid to mobility and employment, just as it is similarly a commercial value providing opportunity to enhance an individual’s social standing, business opportunities, and notoriety. However, network capital has become important because of mobile technology and travel, and the connections it affords can distinctly enhance social capital as a result. Network capital is tied to mobility, but is also operationalized by flexible mobile identities. As we see in this research, traits such as cosmopolitanism and bilingualism combined with the resources of a global city afford opportunity for network capital. This leads to the second theme, that Hong Kong has long been discussed as hybrid, combining both East and West (Chan, 2012). It is a place popularly imagined as fusion and mixture in the most dynamic of ways, the old and the new, urban and rural, wealth and poverty, all enmeshed and visible at their extremes. However, Hong Kong is also culturally hybrid with robust regional and international networks, it is branded as Asia’s World City and a component part of a powerhouse of global cities in the portmanteau NyLonKong (Chu, 2013). Hybridity intersects with the notion of network capital that Urry has proposed. Network capital is not dependent on one thing and requires an interplay of various components and circumstances; it is difficult to essentialize. One does not have network capital simply because they have a smartphone, or hundreds of Facebook friends. Network capital encompasses opportunities, knowledge, and mobility. Even if an individual achieves the eight criteria that Urry (2007) outlines, they must still be operationalized, for them to be relevant. In the Hong Kong context, hybridity is relevant as hybrid polyglots can bridge the cultural worlds of North American skateboarding and Cantonese Hong Kong. Network capital, hybridity, and even sociability cannot make or sustain a skateboarding network. This is significant and a telling reason why commercial ventures into the skateboard industry have often failed without the guiding input of skateboarders (Lombard, 2010). The complex and fluid notions of subcultural taste that skateboarders apply to appraising individuals, companies, and products continue to be a powerful norm in skateboarding even as it enters the Olympic Games (Beal & Weidman, 2003). This control is termed the “Skater Code” by Snyder (2017, pp. 59-62), who provides an in-depth explanation of the arcane criteria skaters use to include or exclude others. The code is informal (Dupont, 2014) and relates more broadly to notions of authenticity, which have been previously identified as central in skateboard culture (Beal & Weidman, 2003; Wheaton & Beal, 2003). The code can also be framed as part of the cultural politics of skateboarding (Wheaton, 2013), or in Thornton’s language as subcultural capital.

This third theme of conservatism relates to how skateboarders are committed to a standardized simplicity in skateboard technology, how they operate as a group of tastemakers, and their continuum between “cool” and “kook,” which extends beyond fashion and relates also to style when performing tricks, trick selection, and personality. Snyder (2017) shows that the “Skater Code” operates at every level in skateboarding, that it is instrumental and more critical than talent in determining the careers of skateboarders. Establishing a network in skateboarding is enhanced and arguably preserved by network capital, but it extends beyond the criteria Urry identifies, and includes participatory subcultural knowledge. Having access to information and mobility is not enough in skateboarding, network capital must be operationalized through the “Skater Code.” Thus, conceptually both network capital and hybridity aid us in understanding how Hong Kong developed as a site of significance for skateboarders regionally and globally. Conceptually, the example of skateboarding in Hong Kong provides a challenge to notions of mobility that do not include reference to cultural knowledge and the enduring importance of social mores, especially within conservative cultures. More important, these concepts allow us to understand the Hong Kong context and explore skateboarding beyond notions of resistance and space. I argue that, in their fusion, these conceptual threads explain why Hong Kong has become a site of significance, and show that skateboarding is not dominated by issues of skateability (space) but by community and its maintenance.

Method

This research extends from ethnographic work I have been performing with skateboarders in Hong Kong. Through participating in skateboarding and talking with skateboarders, I have developed an overview of the niche scene in Hong Kong and identified key personnel as being dominant within it. I performed open-ended interviews with four individuals (two shop owners, one videographer, and one skateboard organization representative), which were digitally recorded and transcribed for analysis. In addition, I had several conversations with individuals in the skateboard industry and skateboarders. Many of these conversations took place while skateboarding, at skate shops, or socializing. Due to the contingent nature of these interactions, being both ad hoc and spontaneous for the most part, I used field notes to supplement my data collection. In analyzing interview transcripts, field notes, and skateboard media, I would frequently revisit, in discussion, themes that emerged with my contacts. Methodologically, this was a fruitful exercise, allowing both participant verification and triangulation of data (Seale, 1999). I made all my informants aware of my status as a researcher and my interest in Hong Kong skateboarding networks. Due to the prominence of some individuals in Hong Kong’s skateboarding scene, it is impractical to provide them with anonymity or pseudonyms. I was, therefore, explicit with these individuals about the scope of the project, providing them with a working abstract of my research and clarifying that they consented to participation.

My role as both a researcher and a skateboarder afforded me valuable access to the skateboard community, access that was, in part, also connected to the network capital of my informants and, thus, dovetails with the argument of this article. As both Schutt (1996) and Wheaton (2016) discuss, insider information is particularly helpful in sports-related research, enabling the researcher to communicate authenticity with his or her respondents and move quickly over the particularism of the sport and its culture.

Within Hong Kong, 92% of the population is of Chinese descent with 88% speak Cantonese as their first language. English is also widely spoken with 53% of the population conversant in this language (The Government of the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region, 2017). My research has been almost entirely performed in English, this is a quality of Hong Kong that comes to be significant in my analysis. It is no accident that those at the heart of the skateboarding scene are bilingual, mobile, and culturally hybrid.

My fieldwork was complimented by interpretive work with academic sources on skateboarding and lifestyle sports, and various magazines, websites, social media feeds that provided context to both the Hong Kong skateboarding scene and its integration with greater China, East Asia, North America, and Europe. This research was also approved by Lingnan University’s ethics committee.

Networked Personalities

Although some Hong Kongers participated in the boom in popularity of skateboarding in the 1970s, it was not until the early 1990s that some niche skateboarder-owned shops emerged and began to develop a robust local skateboard scene. One of them, BFD, co-owned by Warren Stuart, was a grassroots store that became central in consolidating links with skateboarders in the United States and Japan. Warren, a lifelong skateboarder, is of mixed Asian and European descent, he speaks fluent English and Cantonese and is referred to as the godfather of the Hong Kong skateboarding scene. This is a title earned with good reason as Warren is the founding member and general secretary of the Asian Skateboarding Federation, technical director and head judge of the Asian Extreme Sports Federation, vice president of the Hong Kong Federation of Extreme Sports, and skateboard commitee chairman and head coach for the Hong Kong Federation of Roller Sports. He has worked tirelessly over the last 30 years to promote skateboarding and has been centrally involved in working with the Hong Kong government to build public skateparks. It was to Warren and his shop BFD, that movie star Jackie Chan turned to in 1992 when he was seeking professional skateboarders for scenes in the film City Hunter. Warren contacted the FTC skate shop in San Francisco and organized a group of skateboarders to come to Hong Kong for the film. He explained that as a skate shop owner, you naturally have connections to the bigger skateboard world. Prior to 1992, Warren had hosted a variety of touring professional skateboarders, chaperoning and entertaining them as they passed through the city. These networks forged in the early 1990s still endure today and provide Hong Kong with an aura of authenticity in the skateboard world (See Figure 1. of touring skateboarders in Hong Kong). However, as we shall see below, the power of these skateboarding networks was enhanced in the early 2000s as technology and mobility made Hong Kong a more prominent global location.

Figure 1.

Touring skateboarders visit Hong Kong.

Another key character is Julius Brian Siswojo who is the owner of the 8Five2 skate shop founded in 1999 and located in the Causeway Bay District of Hong Kong Island. The shop takes its name from the international dialing code for Hong Kong, highlighting the tension so central in Hong Kong between the local and the global. Brian is also an actor, fashion label owner, and member of the local hip-hop group 24 Herbs. He is no stranger to publicity and is often interviewed by magazines, newspapers, and television shows (Bray, 2016; Lord, 2015; Poh, 2012). He has also been the subject of previous academic work on hip-hop heterolgossia (Lin, 2013). Brian is of Indonesian Chinese descent and was born in Jakarta in 1974, only moving to Hong Kong when he was 11. He quickly picked up Cantonese from his cousins in Hong Kong and learned English at school and through hip-hop music. Brian is a larger than life character, jolly, verbose, and charismatic. His shop features a wall of Polaroid photographs from all the very important persons (VIPs) who have passed through the store. Among the photos, you will find not only countless professional skateboarders but also hip-hop artists like RUN DMC, and even the Hollywood actor Keanu Reeves who Brian shot the film Man of Tai Chi with in 2013.

Adding to this list, Kit Lau is another important character in the Hong Kong skateboarding scene. A Hong Kong Chinese skateboarder and entrepreneur, Kit runs the HKIT skateboard shop in Tsim Sha Tsui, which capitalizes on local Hong Kong connections and has developed a core following of supporters with a strong local loyalty. At the same time, Kit also has connections to the San Francisco skateboarding scene and leverages local authenticity with these global connections. While studying in San Francisco in the mid-1990s, Kit visited the FTC skate shop.

So, in San Francisco, I go check out FTC and then I met the owner, Kent. And then he saw I was wearing the BFD shirt, and he knows that I’m from Hong Kong, and we start talking.

Kit began his skate shop by taking orders from friends and buying products to bring back to Hong Kong and sell on to them. He, like others in the skateboarding scene, have benefited from not only the networks that skateboarding provides but also the wealth of the Hong Kong territory. Many skateboarders could seek funding for businesses through wealthy friends and parents.

For a variety of reasons, BFD closed in 1996, though its legacy continued in the birth of new businesses, namely, skate shops and fashion brands started by skateboarders affiliated with the shop. In 1999, Brian began 8Five2 shop by selling and distributing products from his family home. During this era, skateboarding in the United States was rising ever more in popularity and commercial clout off the back of the X-Games and the Tony Hawk Pro Skater video games (Lombard, 2010). Skateboard companies began to see the benefit in being able to send skateboarders on filming tours internationally and inexpensively. It is now that the global focus on China skateboarding emerges and Hong Kong takes form as a key component in this. The benefits of Hong Kong were that it had a legitimate skateboard scene that was English speaking, had shops and an online presence (for years Warren ran HKSkateboarding.com and now oversees a Facebook group of the same title), and most important, people who understood and knew the culture and mores of skateboarding.

Opportunities: United States–Hong Kong–China

American skateboard videographer Anthony Claravall has an impressive skateboarding career, documenting skateboarding over the last 23 years in locations across the world (Berrics, 2017). A New York native now based in Hong Kong, Anthony is team manager for the Asia Pacific branch of New Balance Numeric skateboard shoes. He also provides a strong example of network capital (Elliott & Urry, 2010; Urry, 2007), personifying the issue of lifestyle sports mobility (Thorpe, 2014) in his nomadic travels filming skateboarders across the globe.

Seeing an advert in 2002 for an “Asian cities” deal with Malaysian airlines, Anthony, who is of Filipino descent and spent some of his childhood in both Kuala Lumpur and Singapore, was interested in exploring the region with a team of skateboarders. Anthony came to learn that Hong Kong is a must on such a tour and that Brian was the key person to meet. Here, the skater code (Snyder, 2017) was instrumental in making the connection with Brian as Anthony explains.

So, other people told me; hey, if you’re going to go to Hong Kong, you’ve got to meet this guy Brian, he’s the coolest dude, he’s like the coolest dude, yadda, yadda. So, I was like; yes, cool. So, Hong Kong, because of it’s place as a global city, and it had a scene, I mean it had somebody like Brian, who was automatically on that list of cities . . . Brian also doesn’t drink and smoke, and so, we hit it off, we had a lot in common; skateboarding, food, this like that. So, immediately it was super comfortable being here, Brian for sure, meeting Warren. Warren that first trip was really welcoming.

In Anthony’s discussion, the idea of Hong Kong as a place is enmeshed with the identities of both Brian and Warren. In terms of place, these individuals become key. As part of the concept of network capital, it is individuals who often come to embody access to a place or specific opportunities (Elliott & Urry, 2010). Through contact with Brian, Anthony immediately saw the potential that Chinese cities have for skateboarders. Since 2002, Anthony has brought more than 200 professional skateboarders to film in Chinese cities such as Shenzhen and Guangzhou and 90% of them have come back more than once (Vice Sports, 2015). Unlike the United States, China’s attraction has been its wealth of untouched new spots and the potential for new footage. Of even greater consequence, China did not have laws against skateboarding (Borden, 2001; Carr, 2013a) or architecture designed specifically to obstruct and stop skateboarders that is now common throughout the West and even in Hong Kong (Borden, 2001; Woolley et al., 2011). Although China is undeniably the focus here, Hong Kong has become an integral site nonetheless. Among other reasons, it has network capital, it is a transport hub, and it was a key location to get visas for China. Anthony explains,

Hong Kong has everything else that Shenzhen or Guangzhou doesn’t really have. It’s Western, you can get a taco or you can get a burger, there’s girls you can talk to in the street, you can get weed, it’s just comfortable, you can go out to a club . . . It’s a world class city, Guangzhou and Shenzhen don’t have that, that’s what I think a lot of skateboarders like. I mean, traditionally, we’d go to Hong Kong, go to China for two weeks, ten days, come back to Hong Kong and people are like; wow, dude, so good to be back in a Western setting.

In conversation with other members of the skateboard industry in Hong Kong and China, this point was highlighted by the fact that many North American professional skateboarders are not cosmopolitan, they are often young, have unadventurous diets, and are prone to culture shock. Fundamentally, they desire English language, home comforts, and entertainment that may not exist in China. Supporting Anthony’s argument, professional skateboarder Axel Cruysberghs is quoted in a skateboard magazine declaring “I expected the worst in Hong Kong but it has all kinds of cool shit!” (Gomez, 2017, p. 63).

Besides the fact that Hong Kong is culturally accessible, the mobility that the territory affords is also key. Throughout the early 2000s, Hong Kong was important because you could get a visa for China. This has subsequently changed, and now it is simple for touring skateboarders to get visas domestically in the United States and fly straight to China.

In asking Brian further why Hong Kong has emerged as a site of convergence and importance in skateboarding, he admits that much of it has to do with the connections he has made with people like Warren and Anthony, and even more so with distant professional skateboarders in the United States. But he stresses that, over the years, he has made good friends with these often famous and iconic professional skateboarders.

But it’s just because they are my friends. People are like, fuck you, you don’t know these guys. No, these are my friends. I go to LA, like Biebs (Brandon Biebel) hollers, like come to my park. Stefan Janoski, we hang out, you know we’re really close. I help them out, they help me out, you know what I mean? . . . And at the same time, most of them, not all of them, most of them are affiliated with 8Five2 because we represent their brands, right? Girl, Chocolate, there’s so many riders from Girl, Chocolate . . . So then basically, it works both ways. It makes 8Five2 the premier shop. They all know the shop is connected.

In Brian’s account, there is a distinct example of the fusion between leisure and work. This can be further articulated in terms of network capital through the use of mobile technologies. Brian, Warren, and Anthony have Instagram accounts, and each has more than 10,000 followers. Their Instagram feeds are a hybrid mix of friendship and business and, thus, work as platforms for commercial and social opportunities alike. This erosion in the distinction between work and leisure is a central theme in the network capital paradigm (Elliott & Urry, 2010). It is also increasingly social media and specifically Instagram that plays an important role in the social lives and careers of skateboarders. Here, the work of Duffy (2017), who identifies the passion, financial investment, and social capital necessary to make a career in social media, corresponds also to the world of skateboarding. In Hong Kong, skateboarding is connected to an interplay between the social capital of key individuals, the cultural hybridity of these persons, the contexts in which they move, and the inherent mobilities that a global city such as Hong Kong affords. In what follows, I challenge the importance of space for skateboarders, which has long been a central concern in how the sport has been conceptualized.

The Skateability Paradox

In terms of skateboarding, Hong Kong provides a paradox in its inherent skateability despite its notoriety. Skateability, has been presented by Borden and Jenson et al. as a way to explain why skateboarders choose and analyze particular “spots” as being good for skateboarding over others (Borden, 2001, p. 218; Jenson et al., 2012, p. 372). The reason why some spots become important and well known is not simply reliant on their design and construction. Woolley and Johns (2010) present an interplay of criteria for skateabilty that includes, accessibility, trickability, sociability, and compatibility. The first three criteria are self-evident, easy to reach or travel to, good for performing tricks, or a convenient place to meet up and spend time with other skateboarders. The third criteria relates to a variety of issues that could make the place incompatible with skateboarding; sometimes, these are temporal such as closing/opening times of businesses, likelihood of being used by other competing groups (BMXs, scooters, rollerbladers), or of local complaints, police, or security guards.

During my research, it was quite common to encounter complaints that Hong Kong was a problematic and challenging place to skateboard. It tended to only get good feedback in terms of places of sociability, and these locations tended to be government funded and managed skateparks that Warren has been instrumental in getting built. Anthony describes the problems with Hong Kong in detail.

So, to me, what I want to do is leave my house, ride my skateboard to work, to wherever, be on my board and cruise around, that’s really what I want to do, that’s my dream . . . I cannot do that in Hong Kong. So, the ground sucks, tiles, bricks, the way the streets are structured, there’s really no space for anything other than a car, and they’re really rough . . . Our neighbouring cities, so we have; Shenzhen, Guangzhou, Hong Kong, Macau . . . Shenzhen, as you know, it’s a skateboarding Mecca, Guangzhou the same, and Hong Kong is the worst.

Thus, much of the skateboarding that takes place in Hong Kong, now occurs in skateparks, a factor that is largely unappealing to professional and touring skateboarders who like to document skateboarding in novel and authentic street locations. Such comments highlight that the skateability of Hong Kong is not a large factor in its prominence in the regional and global skateboard scene. Rather, it is the fact that Hong Kong is a globally connected cosmopolitan city. Importantly, this challenges the dominant conceptualization of skateboarding in terms of space. I believe these points are also relevant to the Californian home of skateboarding. Los Angeles is similarly problematic as a place to skate. The criminalization of skateboarding, the skateproofing of famous spots, and the problems of navigating congested roads in cars make it a questionable site of mobility in terms of the skateboard industry. These are points made by Snyder (2017) and Borden (2019). Indeed, dynamics of accessibility contributed to the globetrotting of filmers like Anthony Claravall, who sought new accessible spots in Barcelona and China. Although one could argue that Claravall found skateable spots; in truth, he accessed nodes of a global subculture that facilitated access to new locations, or locations locally known. Thus, the skateability paradox may not be confined to Hong Kong, and may be more relevant in multiple cities across the globe. Kabul, for example, is far from an exemplary skateable city; yet, the community of Skateistan and its subcultural reach have made it a significant place in skateboarding (Fitzpatrick, 2012; Thorpe & Rinehart, 2013). Viewed in a global frame, the industry and practice of skateboarding produces space, space that is socially constructed through a subcultural community.

Business Hub

The Asia Pacific branches of the skateboarding shoes Vans, Adidas, and New Balance all have their headquarters in Hong Kong. It is also the location of the first House of Vans indoor skatepark in Asia. I asked Anthony why was there this focus on key brands being in Hong Kong?

Okay, that’s completely separate to skateboarding. And pretty much, I think the reason why all these companies have headquarters in Hong Kong, is because it’s been the gateway to Asia, before China really opened up. And so, now I feel like there is a real feeling that you can’t do business in China unless it’s 100% Chinese, you can’t . . . Hong Kong is still a comfortable place to be headquartered . . . The fact that I’m here, and Adidas is here, and Vans is here, it’s not anything to do with skateboarding.

Thus, although Hong Kong is an indivisible part of China, it still remains distinct as an accessible location for global commerce. Brian echoed similar sentiments in underlining that Hong Kong was an attractive and important place for businesses to be based.

It’s like New York, I think. If you’re in New York, you’ve made it. Maybe the business is in Texas, maybe the business is in Minnesota but if you’re in New York, you’re “in” New York. To me it’s like that. You’re in Hong Kong! You’re legit. But the business, we all know, Hong Kong is so small. The turnover is not that big but if you’re in Hong Kong you will be seen in the world.

Brian’s words indicate that Hong Kong’s network capital is key, it is a location for skateboarding that is important; yet, its skateability and market share are not what make it important. Rather, it is the level at which Hong Kong is connected, global, mobile, and hybrid.

Regionally, Hong Kong continues to be a site of significance in skateboarding. The Korean magazine/journal The Quiet Leaf regularly features Hong Kong stories and interviews in its pages while carrying adverts for brands promoted and connected to Hong Kong such as Victoria, Knowledge clothing, and Edwin watches (Kim, 2015, 2017). During my research, I have encountered not only visiting skateboarders from America and Europe but also skateboarders visiting from Korea, China, and Taiwan, drawn to Hong Kong and eager to document local spots for their Instagram feeds. A recent article by Hong Kong–based streetwear magazine Hypebeast lists two Hong Kong companies in their ranking of the eight best Asian skate brands (Li, 2017). Considering the vastness of the Asian region (more than 4 billion people in 54 states), Hong Kong, even in an unscientific magazine editorial, appears disproportionally significant.

Arguably, much of what has made Hong Kong popular as a skateboarding location is the network capital of the territory, a site of convergence in communications, tastemaking, business, and mobility.

Conclusion

In terms of East Asian lifestyle sports, what is made evident in the example of Hong Kong is that the success and popularity of skateboarding beyond the global North is still, in many ways, tied to the global North. Skateboarding, for all its explosive athletic dynamism, is a conservative culture largely controlled by skateboarders and their own aesthetics. Hong Kong skateboarding enjoys the profile it has, in part, through the connections to North American brands and professional skateboarders. This can even be demonstrated in the popularity of China skate spots that have been almost exclusively made famous by visiting Western skateboarders rather than local Chinese skaters. Even the celebrated Skateistan nongovernmental organization (NGO; Fitzpatrick, 2012; Thorpe & Rinehart, 2013) in Afghanistan is the brainchild of an Australian skateboarder, Oliver Percovich, who has networked with American professional skateboarders to support and promote his work. Further research on skateboarding in East Asia must address issues of race, ethnicity, and gender. Here, there is a significant research gap revealed by the continued prominence of North American skateboarders. Skateboarding is reproducing its culture globally, but those regions, cities, and individuals who have been able to align themselves with the core of the skateboard industry (the industry and personnel in North America) have been most likely to succeed locally, and globally. Skateboarding is still largely controlled by skateboarders, although there is significant encroachment by big sportswear shoe companies, and social media entrepreneurs (Borden, 2019).

In contrast to the image of skateboarding as radical and extreme, the exploration of skateboarding networks leads to the conclusion that skateboarding can be understood as both conservative and protectionist. This is a point that has been previously broached, for example, Borden (2001) highlights that skateboarders are not a revolutionary group and that “they in no way seek to fundamentally alter anything” (p. 245). Similarly, Yochim (2010) argues that skateboarders reproduce dominant forms of heterosexual masculinity, and do not alter the status quo. In terms of gender, my key informants are all male, and all in positions of power within the local and regional skateboard industry. These individuals act as gatekeepers and can guide which skateboarders receive recognition and sponsorship, and those that do not. Indeed, the importance of the established skateboard scene, of authenticity, and existing friendships, appears to be the very engine of the skateboard industry. This is for Snyder (2017) the “Skater Code,” to a degree it mirrors the flexible networked world of 21st-century global neoliberal capitalism. Skateboard culture embodies the dominant economic motif of individualism, self-reliance, and flexibility. It also demonstrates how opportunities are not purely contingent on merit and ability, but precarious, tied to networks, locations, and mobility (Standing, 2016). At the same time, skateboarding is protectionist, celebrating, and promoting individuals because of their achievements, personality, or style. This “code” is the arcane and conservative element of skateboarding that is not easily understood by outsiders and difficult to translate into the quantifiable world of traditional sports.

I challenged Brian on this fact, arguing that skateboarding can appear like an “old boys club,” that skateboarders will help other skateboarders out just because of the culture. Brian agreed with this but elaborated that it came down to trust also, you may want to employ a skateboarder because he or she has the knowledge and the skill, but you also need someone who is reliable, and you end up knowing and trusting people you skate with. This can also be articulated as an adjunct of low-end globalization (Mathews 2011), where business deals have been forged late at night skateboarding the ledges and steps of office plazas around the city. This provides a distinct contrast to the idea of business in the global city put forward by Sassen (2001), and similarly underlines the entrepreneurial culture so strongly associated with DIY skateboard culture (Yochim, 2010). Although this conservatism may be easy to critique, it also has considerable social value: It can be central in providing fraternity, support, and identity at a time where such forms of inclusion are perceived to be precarious.

Warren also emphasized on several occasions that, within the industry, deals were made, both past and present, through skateboarding friendships. These can include considerable commercial benefits and advantages, but might also come with obligations to not support, or work with, specific brands. The 8Five2 shop is an excellent example of Hong Kong’s network capital as a “tastemaking” center, with Brian choosing selectively only brands that he deems as “dope” or “legit,” as worthy as being sold by the “premier” store. Consequently, brands seek to be distributed by 8Five2 as an endorsement of quality and cool. A point that was made by several respondents is that many skate shops in China carried local brands, and largely do not have the international brands and distribution that Hong Kong skate shops have.

Thus, in returning to Rasmussen’s (2014) point that network capital reproduces and reinforces social differences, Hong Kong provides a window into the East Asian skateboarding world that has reproduced the status and importance of North American skateboarders while positioning a tightly bound network of connected veteran skateboarders as some of the key players in the regional skateboard scene, bureaucracy, and industry. The four individuals I interviewed, Warren, Brian, Anthony, and Kit, are all in their forties and highlight that their network capital has come over years of cultivation. This is a point that connects with the intriguing prominence and status of older skateboarders in what has long been regarded as a youth culture (O’Connor, 2017). These individuals provide only part of the explanation as to why Hong Kong has been, and continues to be, a site of prominence. Indeed, these individuals are a micro example of the macro connections of Hong Kong itself. Of great relevance in this exploration of lifestyle sports in an East Asian setting is the historic position of Hong Kong as an accessible and flexible node in the global economy.

What this article reveals is that network capital plays a key role in skateboarding culture in a global frame. Importantly, it is not solely the knowledge, mobility, and technology that has positioned Hong Kong as a notable node in East Asian skateboarding. It is also the hybridity of the city itself; this reconfirms that Hong Kong as a global city is significant in itself. However, this article underlines that within skateboarding culture, subcultural knowledge, personal connections, and know-how are still the primary currency for inclusion and success. We learn that skateboarding’s conservative and protectionist culture is an accessible and important way to understand the sport globally, and must be further explored and recognized as the sport professionalizes and enters the Olympic stage.

Footnotes

Declaration of Conflicting Interests

The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Funding

The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

ORCID iD

Paul O’Connor

Author Biography

Paul O’Connor is a research assistant professor in Sociology and Social Policy and centre fellow at the Centre for Social Policy and Social Change at Lingnan University. He is a qualitative sociologist interested in ethnicity, religion, embodiment, and skateboard culture. His research on skateboarding includes work on middle-aged skateboarders, helmet use, secular pilgrimage, and philanthropy.

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