In America, we’re really big on choice. Pro-choice, choosing your future, self-expression and all that. Well, what’s the value of being able to choose? Or rather, why do the things we choose to buy or the kind of person we choose to be matter more than things we inherit?

For example, part of what’s great about America is that it’s the land of open possibilities. We always hear those Horatio Alger stories about coming from nothing and ending up with everything. There’s a saying in Texas Hold’em that you only need a chip and a chair to come back and win. With this emphasis on freedom comes a value on independence because the only worthy choice is a free one. Hence, our conception of politics depends on what we mean by freedom. Yet that is still part of America’s inheritance.

At the risk of broad generalizations, the role of what government should be doing is not the same in China. It’s not a question of big versus small couched in terms of freedom. Take Chinese New Year for example. I spent one with a very gracious Chinese host family. It happens around February every year since it depends on the lunar calendar. In Beijing, every single year for about 12 days or so, people buy fireworks off the street and light them. You’ll hear enormous explosions from your neighborhood, outside your door and on every single street: all smoke and some fire. It’s a time for families to come together and celebrate, often but not always, with liquor and dumplings.

To me, this is a dangerously fun combination. The best word to describe what goes on outside is a war zone without bullets but with shrapnel. You’ll see taxis weaving through the smoke as fireworks are being set off in every direction. Car alarms go off all the time even during the day. The ones parked in the street get covered with dust. Little kids, along with their dads, are not just watching but actively participating.

It’s hard to emphasize how prevalent this is. It’s as if the entire city grounds to a standstill for a few days and the only way to know people are around are the explosions. Apparently, the way to light a firework is with a cigarette and nobody will stop or caution you. So don’t lose an eye or a finger.

Does this reflect a hands-off approach to governance? No. China’s ruling Communist Party bans what you see on the web under the pretext of fighting pornography, but it does not really try to regulate the bonanza of fireworks going off like artillery shells outside the window. It’s part of Chinese culture. The only rule (that’s enforced) is that you can’t light them within 15 feet of where you buy them, for obvious reasons. There’s a tent stacked with them just outside the door of a bank on a street corner in Beijing. It’s not about freedom or the distinction between the public/private sphere that prevents the government from better regulating the celebration.

In America, this would be like the police not enforcing drunk driving laws on July 4 in the name of the Revolutionary War.

When I ask taxi drivers for example why the government doesn’t really care, the reply is culture; out of respect for Chinese culture and history, the government doesn’t really intervene. Now, the claim of history is a powerful one here. Native Chinese people like to tell me that China’s history is 5,000 years long and America’s is about 200. Because of this length, China’s traditions hold greater claim and supposedly greater value.

During Chinese New Year, it’s customary for families to reunite. Literally millions of people are moving across the country by plane, train or car to spend Chinese New Year with families. It’s impossible to travel during this time since the seats are all sold out.

So, my question is, in what sense does American culture lay claim to us? Certainly, it’s not as obligatory to go home for the new year. The interesting thing about being in China is that it lets you appreciate how ingrained freedom is in our culture. The founding, while certainly glorified in our textbooks, still reveals how a political debate is central to America.

Even a comedian that’s not funny anymore, but horrifically real like Sarah Palin, speaks in a language of freedom. While certainly not perfect (see the three-fifths compromise), the American animating impulse for freedom is unique. It’s a tradition of freedom.