For me, Saturday morning means there's time to enjoy an extra cup of coffee and plan the day. But again, the early-morning haze meant I needed to check the PM 2.5 readings and inform the newly arrived in-laws about the color-coded warnings that we capital casualties have grown accustomed to.

"No, baba, your cloth mask only makes you 'feel' safe. Put this thin one inside and make sure it fits around your nose. Yes, I know you walk every morning, but see, look here at my phone - when there's a yellow alert on this scale and this other measurement says it's 'hazardous' for everyone, then no, you shouldn't go out without a proper mask."

This is representative of things we spoke about in person on Saturday morning before my father ventured outside. Just up from Hangzhou, which is known locally as "Heaven on Earth," the situation is difficult for the old man to understand. This was one of those times when it's healthier not to exercise.

After four years here, I know what it means to get overly confident in the face of a poison cloud.

Once, after jogging in these conditions, I ended up at the doctor's office with seriously irritated lungs. Looking at my X-ray, she asked, "Do you smoke?" I don't.

Fortunately, we didn't all succumb to the recent toxic fog. Life goes on almost without a hitch, from what I can casually observe. In fact, local residents seem completely unfazed by the poor air quality.

As I strolled through my neighborhood on Saturday afternoon, the PM 2.5 reading was over 200 no matter whose scale you went by, and yet I was the only person wearing a mask. No, it wasn't as poisonous as the previous week, but at that level it is still considered "very unhealthy" to "everyone" - including my 3-year-old son.

As a responsible parent, what am I supposed to do with that reality? Do I spirit him away to a cleaner environment or invest in some biotech firm that makes stylish masks in a variety of colors?

I casually mentioned my dirty fingernails to my wife, and she said, "It's not just you." The black soot is on everything. The cars are covered in it. My shoes track it in. It must then also be in our lungs. So I chuckle and wonder aloud, "Where do you suppose our nation's leaders were last week, Hainan Province perhaps?"

As I reach out to a frustrated community, what I want to ask is this: Does anyone think for a minute that if there had been some hugely important international event happening in the capital last week that the air would have been "hazardous?"

Just look at what happens when all eyes are on Beijing. The Olympics of 2008 had a spectacular run. The opening ceremony was celebrated by millions - and that's only the cast - under a clear and unusually dry mid-August sky.

The following year, we all celebrated the nation's 60th birthday, October 1, with a military parade past Tiananmen Square. Let me jog your memory: fuchsia uniforms, a presidential smile, and an air force flyover streaking bright colors across a clear blue sky. Not coincidence.

We all know what the "relevant departments" are capable of when properly motivated. The factories upwind are recalibrated, retooled or removed. Nearby coalmines are temporarily shut down, and vehicle restrictions are enforced inside the city. And who knows what they do to the atmosphere to dry it up? Maybe I don't want to know.

The point is, it's a choice. The powers-that-be will do whatever is necessary to save face when the world is watching, but on an average Sunday in January, we could all die from poison gas for all they care - anything to grow the GDP.

And don't give me the science lecture about air inversions and 4 million cars. I used to live in Los Angeles. Our current air quality, at whatever moment you are reading this, is based on policy - government policy that dictates when to rein in the polluters and when to hit the economic accelerator.

I guess now it's time for me to decide whether to let them slowly poison my son or take him someplace cleaner.

The author is a copy editor with the Global Times. scottpruett@globaltimes.com.cn