China has many rules. But many people seem to treat any regulation that might inconvenience them, whether it's Beijing's supposed non-smoking rule in restaurants or the injunction to fasten seat belts, as a mere suggestion.

One of the most egregious examples is cars in the bicycle lane; I often come down the end of my alley to find a BMW or similar parked straight across the lane, forcing cyclists to swerve dangerous around it into the road. Many drivers seem to treat the bike lane as a simple shortcut.

That's why pictures taken in Beijing of an unidentified Westerner standing in the path of a car in the bike lane, hand up to block it, spread so fast. The online reaction was to heap praise on the lone hero, be happy to see foreigners taking an active role in upholding the rules in China, and denigrate the Chinese public who meekly let drivers abuse the bike lane every day, with some describing him as "the light of humanity.

" It was certainly a praiseworthy gesture. But the heart of the matter was perhaps more slyly put by other commentators "If he wasn't a laowai, he would have been beaten up.

" Car-vs-bicycle, after all, is a neat symbol of the power and wealth disparities at the heart of Chinese cities. A driver who thinks he's entitled to drive where he wants, or to zip along the roads at 100 kilometers per hour, or to ignore red lights - all behaviors easy to find in Beijing, especially when the highways have cleared late at night - is also likely to think he's entitled to ignore police and public alike. And he's also likely to get physical when he feels his authority is challenged.

Why would a foreigner not be afraid of being beaten up while an ordinary bike-rider would?

First, there's the obvious status disparity. People are more nervous about going after foreigners, because they're perceived as more important, perhaps richer, and therefore more likely for the authorities to actually care about.

This isn't an absolute guarantee: Two of my Western friends have been hospitalized after trying to defend others in China. But in both those cases everyone involved was drunk and the decision-making process less clean. A Chinese citizen with obvious trappings of wealth and power could probably take the same action. But they wouldn't be in the bike lane to begin with.

When it comes to standing up, too, foreigners have less to lose. Their jobs are temporary and it's a lot easier for them to pack up and move elsewhere than for Chinese. They're much likelier to be younger, without children or elderly parents dependent on them. A local, especially a poor local, who gets in the way of the powerful is putting himself at a small but significant risk of having his life chewed up by the other parties' connections.

And if our hypothetical Chinese hero does get beaten up, the financial, as well as the physical cost, might be a lot greater. Foreigners are more likely to have health insurance than the average local, and to have functioning healthcare systems back in their own country to fall back on in a pinch. A serious injury, meanwhile, can completely break an ordinary person in China.

Finally, there's the psychological aspect. Whatever the realities, foreigners are more likely to have grown up seeing people taking a stand, whether it's irritation about somebody jumping the queue, lighting up in a non-smoking area, or a regular street protest. There's an instinctive belief that if you stand up, others may join you.

Chinese society, meanwhile, teaches people the reverse lesson; if you stand up, others will back away from you.

Foreigners aren't braver or more determined. They're just the product of societies where the rules are already taken seriously. (For the latest China news, please follow @PDChina on Twitter at http://www.twitter.com/PDChina and @PeoplesDaily on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/PeoplesDaily)