(LI SHIGONG)

On its face, it was only a minor part of a family's evening dinner out. But to an uninitiated American, long accustomed to overbearing adults trying to mollify their equally unruly kids, witnessing Chinese discipline at a relative's level can be, well, miraculous.

"If you spill anything on this table," the sister of a Chinese friend instructed her 5-year-old son during a recent dinner out, "there will be consequences."

Minutes later, the little emperor mistakenly, yet predictably, spilled some green tea on the yellow tablecloth. His mother, true to form, gently but firmly took his right wrist, and not without affection, rapped it lightly with a pair of chopsticks.

Then the remarkable happened. Without further prompting, the boy proceeded to fold three napkins into tiny squares, blotting out the remnants of the watery stain. My Chinese companions returned to their meals, nonplussed: The little one had already been fussed over quite a bit that evening.

My host noticed my expression of semi-disbelief. "All kids here are like that," he explained. "I was like that when I was little."

Whether this style of strict self-regulating discipline is a product of Chinese society, its government, or a reflection of behavioral norms in this part of Asia—or an intersection of all three—depends on whom you ask.

But one thing is for sure: It has all but ensured Beijing the freedom with which to invest more money in China to help to keep the shockwaves of a messy economic downturn from reaching its shores. Such practically made choices—choices many American observers would like to have seen sooner in the United States—also reveal how China has been propelled as a new superpower into the 21st century.

To the outsider, on the other hand, these characteristics of the Chinese people on a smaller scale can range from the delightfully exotic to the slightly eerie—or somewhere in between, depending on your point of view.

It explains the disorienting sight of elderly Chinese walking their dogs without leashes, for instance. This is something seldom, if ever, practiced in any urban setting in the United States, where a rebellious or simply untrained animal could run afoul of a car as swiftly and easily it could enter a confrontation with an another animal—or even attack on a person.

American canines have their uniquely adorable ways, too, of course—minus the training to act so universally on command. Indeed, it isn't the lack of a leash that is so extraordinary here—instead, it's the degree to which the Chinese man's best friend follows orders so meticulously, with so little objection. Leashes are on hand for rare disciplinary measures.

More broadly, it's no secret that honesty can be in short supply for the inattentive foreigner when it comes to shopping, bargaining or the odd scam in China's capital. On the other hand, as with other major Chinese cities, conformity with the rules have made Beijing one of the safest metropolises of its size anywhere on earth.

It is unfair to assert, as some do, that the United States will completely lose out to Chinese prosperity in the coming years. America, for one thing, will remain a can-do nation, a country with boundless ability to innovate, motivate and inspire—within its borders and around the world.

No economic downturn will ever change that.

At the same time, the United States has changed dramatically in the past decade. The statistics are obvious, and alarming: One in 10 working Americans are unemployed; one in eight now require some form of government assistance to get by. Americans must accept that not only is their country experiencing hard times, but that standing up again will take some time.

Despite relentless growth and responsible monetary policies, China's future is not totally assured. But the outlook appears positive, for now at least, with a populace poised to spend based on its carefully preserved savings—rather than merely borrowing just to stay afloat.

Regardless, if the former Middle Kingdom ever becomes a conscious role model for Americans, millions of Chinese will have made it happen. And one of them could well be my friend's little emperor who, later in the evening, balanced the base of the handle of a large, sharp, Tai Chi sword rather precariously in his palm.

He did so in a living room amid his indifferent relatives, reclining on their chairs, full from their meals. In the foreground on a high definition television, blared an episode of Tom and Jerry, an iconic, boisterous American cartoon of yesteryear, dubbed into Mandarin.

The writer is an American living in Beijing