"He learned some things about murder early on. He learned that men killed with less provocation than women. Men killed because they were drunk, stoned, and pissed off. Men killed for money. Men killed because other men made them feel like sissies. Men killed to impress other men. Men killed so they could talk about it. Men killed because they were weak and lazy. Murder sated their lust of the moment and narrowed down their options to a comprehensible few."
-- James Ellroy

"The common motive behind many crimes that appear senseless is kicks -- the thrill of doing the forbidden. There is excitement in thinking about crime, bragging about crime, executing the crime, making the getaway, and celebrating the triumph. Even if the offender is caught, there is excitement in dealing with the police, in trying to beat the rap, in receiving notoriety, and, if it gets that far, in the trial proceedings."
-- Dr. Stanton E. Samenow

"What separates Willie Mak from the others is the same thing that distinguishes him from all other murderers -- the premeditation of this crime, the total absence of fundamental values. There's nothing here to lessen moral culpability."
-- United States District Court Judge William Dwyer

Shortly after news of the Wah Mee Massacre hit the streets, reporters were quick to characterize the three young men with soundbyte stereotypes. Mak was the planner. He was the greedy one who didn't think twice about robbing the Club and bringing Tony Ng down with him. Benjamin Ng was the "crazy" one. He had a history of violent behavior and was allegedly connected to several execution-style killings that occurred shortly before the incident at the Wah Mee. Ng was known to carry a gun. He drove a Corvette. He was street smart. Tony Ng was the one who threw everyone for a loop. He was the eldest of the three, with no criminal record. He worked legal, legitimate jobs as an auto mechanic, and as a cook at his father's restaurant. He attended community college, off and on, after graduating from high school. He was a shy, timid, young man. His association with these two thugs was a curiosity.

Superficially, the three men seemed to commit the crimes at the Wah Mee simply for money. More, much more, underlay this tragedy: gambling, Asian youth, police corruption, and life in a contemporary American Chinatown. The three young men not only assaulted the victims at the Wah Mee; they assaulted the Chinese community when Mak wrote his letter about Chinatown tongs and corruption. As Ron Chew, a reporter for the International Examiner, wrote, "The story wasn't what the justice system did to Willie Mak. The story was what Willie Mak did to Chinatown. Willie Mak dragged Chinatown into court with him as an uncharged co-defendant."

The mass murders at the Wah Mee, like many similar cases, were the result of more than just money and greed. Indeed, examining the Wah Mee murders helps illustrate essential differences between two schools of belief about responsibility for violent crime. One school of belief places a majority of the blame on the criminal's environment (e.g., home life, working conditions, education). Immersion in an adverse environment weakens restraint, pushes some to crime. Some argue that, to understand why Willie Mak devised, conspired, and executed such a plan, one has to understand Mak's world. One must look at the world through Mak's eyes -- see what it was like to be a young immigrant walking the streets of Chinatown in the early-1980s.

Yet, others argue that the individual establishes himself as a criminal at an early age: stealing a candy bar at the age of ten only leads to burglary as a teenager and, still worse, more criminal behavior as an adult. Supporters of this argument claim the criminal must accept responsibility for his actions, rather than blame his environment. In many instances, they argue, the criminal's siblings have been raised in an identical environment yet do not turn toward a life of crime.

Understanding Mak's world is not to say that one agrees with what Mak and his accomplices did at the Wah Mee. Nor should one believe that Mak and his accomplices are representative of Asian youth culture during the early-1980s. Willie Mak, Benjamin Ng, and Tony Ng are indeed different from their contemporaries. They in no way represent Chinese American youth -- the same way Charles Manson and Ted Bundy don't represent mainstream America. How these three men decided to carry out the execution-style killings, versus, say, three other young men, will forever remain a mystery. What happened was horrific. It was also complex, the net result of the social struggles of a few young people in Chinatown.

New York-based theorist and academic Peter Kwong, in his book The New Chinatown, addresses the social/political/economic dynamics of North American Chinatowns. Kwong's book offers the reader a candid view of the inner-workings of Chinatown -- specifically within the past fifty years. The book describes living/working conditions of Chinatown, and illuminates what life for Mak and his accomplices was truly like.

Kwong's The New Chinatown dispels myths surrounding Chinese Americans -- myths both good and bad -- and explains dynamics of evolving Chinatowns across North America. Its candor distinguishes Kwong's study. He addresses and describes everything -- gambling to Opium wars to sweatshops to tong battles.

A major focus of Kwong's book is the growth of Chinatowns from 1965 to the present. He describes how the Immigration Act of 1965 led to explosive growth in Chinese immigration to the United States. This, in turn, led to an economic boom during the 1970s -- specifically in the Chinese garment and restaurant industries. "Imported capital," Kwong writes, "invested in the United States, took advantage of immigrant labor in Chinatown and reaped high profits. These profits attracted even more investments. More investments created more jobs, encouraging more immigration. This, in turn, brought more profits. This cycle generated the economic boom in Chinatown of the 1970s."

Preceding the Immigration Act of 1965 was the McCarran-Walter Immigration and Nationality Act of 1952. This followed Chinese exclusion, which lasted from 1882-1943. The McCarran-Walter Immigration and Nationality Act of 1952 admitted some 30,000 Chinese, giving them immigrant status. This was a start, but the Immigration Act of 1965 was monumental. Between 1960 and 1985, the population of Chinese in America increased by more than 300% -- a jump from 236,084 in 1960 to 1,079,400 in 1985.

The families of Willie Mak, Benjamin Ng, and Tony Ng arrived in the United States during the mid-1970s -- a result of the Immigration Act of 1965. They were part of that population boom which led to economic growth in Chinatowns across the United States. And like the majority of Chinese immigrants during that period, the young mens' families arrived seeking economic betterment, political stability, social justice, and equality.

What they found, though, often was radically different.

"In fact," Kwong writes, "most [immigrants] end[ed] up having to work for others, own[ing] no property and suffer[ing] exploitation and discrimination." Benjamin Ng's parents worked long hours -- his father a cook, his mother a seamstress. Tony Ng's father was the first in his family to arrive in the United States -- living in Maryland and working at a Chinese restaurant. The rest of the Ng family followed. Eventually, though, Tony Ng's family succeeded; after his family moved to Seattle, his father opened his own restaurant in a Seattle suburb.

Despite -- or, possibly because of -- an economic boom in United States Chinatowns, classes of Chinese American immigrants began to emerge. Kwong describes these classes as "Uptown Chinese" and "Downtown Chinese."

"Those who arrive[d] with professional skills," Kwong writes, "are better able to integrate into the American society and do not settle in Chinatowns. They are the Uptown Chinese. Since most citizens of Chinese descent were traditionally of humble origin, mainly from the rural areas of Southern China, their relatives are likely to have similar backgrounds. Immigrants in this category tend to settle in Chinatowns with their sponsoring relatives. They comprise the Downtown Chinese."

Within the Downtown Chinese, there is yet another class separation: millionaires vs. non-millionaires. Kwong describes Chinatown millionaires as either individuals who have been in the United States since the 1960s or wealthy Hong Kong immigrants who had money before they came.

Chinatown millionaires were the Danny Woos and the John Louis and the Ruby Chows of Seattle. They were building owners, restaurateurs, and politicians with major pull in the Chinese community and -- to some extent -- "mainstream" Caucasian society. They were the people Chinese immigrants turned toward for work or a place to live. They owned the restaurants and apartment buildings, and they had a very palpable influence on the family associations in Chinatown. "Members who owned shops and restaurants," Kwong observes, "commanded respect because other members depended on them for jobs. Those who received favors became followers, forming patron/client relationships. Clients depended on the patron for help in securing jobs, mediating personal conflicts, and providing protection." These millionaires were sometimes referred to as "kiu lings" -- or big shots.

The Chinatown non-millionaires were the families of Willie Mak, Benjamin Ng, and Tony Ng. Theirs was a world of working ten to twelve hours a day, six days a week, and earning about $9,000 per year. Theirs was a world of working for tips-only at Chinatown restaurants, with no benefits or health care. Complaining about working conditions only meant trouble for the plaintiff. Chinese businesspeople and their supporters often rationalized away poor working conditions in Chinatown through two arguments: 1) American labor standards were not applicable to Chinatown because of intense competition between and low profit margins for Chinese businesses; 2) Chinese have a strong sense of ethnic solidarity and do not mind hard work if it is for other Chinese. Moreover, Kwong observes, "To deter workers from organizing or being too active, owners have an effective weapon -- the blacklist. Troublemakers are fired and are unable to find another job in Chinatown."

The behavior of Willie Mak, Benjamin Ng, and Tony Ng must be seen as interwoven with the larger social fabric of a larger Chinatown. Each arrived from Mainland China's Kwangtung Province -- a rural area with a poor educational system. They arrived in the United States unprepared for American schools. They knew little English and, like many, had to start from scratch. They were thrown into American schools, where they struggled from the outset. Kwong writes, "Newly arrived immigrant youngsters are more likely to have problems in school. When the volume of immigration is high, the schools lack resources to keep up with it. Chinatown schools in the 1960s and 1970s experienced this problem." Even as juveniles, young immigrants faced long hours of study and work. Commonly, a student would attend American school in the morning and afternoon, then attend traditional Chinese school in the early evening. Some even held part-time jobs throughout the school year. Kwong cites language problems, a heavy outside workload, family problems, and lack of financial support as reasons for high truancy- and attrition-rates among Chinese American youths at the time. "Conditions in the bustling environment in Chinatown are not conducive to youth development. There are few gyms available, few places for young people to socialize, and few places to go for advice. The school system is overcrowded; furthermore, there are too few bilingual teachers and counselors in Chinatown. These conditions provide fertile soil for youth gangs. Gang members, recruited by adults, are paid to guard gambling houses, to carry out extortion threats, to intimidate local residents, and to serve as runners in the drug traffic."

Kwong's description of juvenile scholastic struggles is not applicable to all young Chinese American immigrants during the early-1980s. Indeed, just consider the three young accomplices: Benjamin Ng dropped out of high school, but Willie Mak earned his GED, and Tony Ng even pursued a community college education. Yet, all three men were employed at gambling clubs. Willie Mak and Benjamin Ng were known to carry firearms. And all three had a history of illegally gambling in Chinatown.

In some instances, Kwong comments, young Chinese Americans turn to the tongs for a sense of place, as was the case with Willie Mak and Benjamin Ng. "Tongs allow recruitment of new members without regard to kinship or place of origin," Kwong writes. "With an unlimited constituency, tongs are able to undertake many different activities. They…adapt to modern conditions." The most powerful tongs were those that had operated in New York City since the 1950s. There were the Continentals, Black Eagles, Flying Dragons, and the Ghost Shadows. These tongs served many roles in New York City's Chinatown, including protection of gambling clubs, extortion, territorial control, and drug trafficking. "It is cheaper to pay a few hundred dollars a month than to have one's storefront window broken or to worry about the safety of one's family," Kwong writes. "Clearly the tongs are a serious problem, yet the community is 'kept silent,' and is powerless to stop them. Only when the public is fully aware of the facts will pressure be put on government authorities to act against the tongs. To block public exposure under the pretext of opposing stereotypes plays into the hands of the tongs."

In New York City, as well as many Chinatowns across the United States, an uneasy partnership links tongs, residents, and police. If a storeowner is to complain about being extorted by a particular tong, that owner must be certain that they will receive backing from the law enforcement. Yet, the tong that the storeowner complains about may in fact control operations of a gambling club that is profiting select law enforcement officers by allowing the club to operate under a tolerance policy. If the police crack down on the tong, it shoots itself in the foot; if the police force doesn't crack down on the tong, the store's owner suffers the repercussions.

The tongs' power is immense. In 1985 a group of New York City investors bought a restaurant that was part of a particular tong's "territory." The tong pressured the investors and restaurant owners to break their contract because said investors were not part of the tong. Comparably powerful tongs exist in Chinatowns across the United States, including Seattle. "[T]he problem with the tongs," Kwong argues, "is not limited to the crimes they commit; they impose a class structure on the community as well, buttressing the power of employers." Kwong argues that youth crime among Asian immigrants results not from inept schooling and American culture but from the tongs' power. "Some people claim that crime is simply a youth problem," Kwong writes. "They complain about the quality of today's youth, blaming the schools and the corrupting influence of American culture. They even try to give sociological excuses, seeing the problem as the result of the generation gap or the failure of hardworking parents to spend enough time with their children. Yet this problem is not simply one of juvenile delinquency brought on by parental neglect or bad schooling. When jobless fourteen-year-olds have guns, apartments, spending money, and defense lawyers for protection, they obviously have the backing of powerful adults. The youth problem is the creation of the tongs."

Willie Mak, Benjamin Ng, and Tony Ng had each worked low-wage jobs in Seattle. When they did make money, it was usually working at illegal gambling clubs. Perhaps they felt there was no place for them in a "mainstream" Caucasian society. Their English skills were poor and they had little education. Shortly after his arrest, Mak had described to a sergeant the discrimination he faced when looking for a job outside of Chinatown.

"Although some Chinese insist that they prefer living in Chinatown because they feel more comfortable among other Chinese," Kwong argues, "this sentiment merely reflects that discrimination and lack of jobs elsewhere make them feel uncomfortable and bound to the Chinese community. In fact, the preference to live in Chinatown is hardly cultural. Chinatown, after all, has always been a ghetto plagued by poverty, crowded housing, unsanitary conditions, and crime, and deficient American legal protection and the rule of law."

Kwong is critical of arguments that the Chinese have a "different" work ethic. "The Chinatown political and economic establishment…[claim] that American labor standards [are] not applicable to Chinatown because of the intense competition and low profit margins in Chinese business. They also [claim] that Chinese have a strong sense of ethnic solidarity and do not mind hard work if it is for the Chinese….[B]laming the Chinese for lack of initiative is a common tactic used by officials to shrug off responsibility for conditions in Chinatown. It confirms the image of Chinese as timid and afraid of challenging authorities….Investors leave their operations in the hands of strict Chinese managers who disregard American laws and labor regulations. Jobs within such ethnic enclaves are by definition low-wage and exploitative; they are a far cry from benevolent mutual-aid systems. What is worse, once immigrants are lured to Chinatown for jobs, they limit their chances to interact with American society and to learn English, which is essential for their economic mobility." Robbing the Wah Mee, killing the witnesses, and walking away from the heist with tens-of-thousands of dollars was a "way out" of Chinatown for the three young men. No more long hours in hot kitchens. No more discrimination when looking for work outside of Chinatown. They would be wealthy as the result of a "perfect" crime.

Unfortunately, Seattle's mainstream newspapers of the time failed to appreciate the cultural differences inherent in the Wah Mee case (some newspapers even misspelled Mah Jongg). Reporters were suddenly asked to write about tongs -- and they seemingly referred to pulp crime novels and violent movies for "accurate" descriptions.

Allowing for unprejudiced, yet unsentimental, interpretation of criminal violence -- such as that at the Wah Mee -- is Dr. Stanton E. Samenow's book Inside The Criminal Mind. Samenow, a clinical psychologist who also co-authored the three-volume study The Criminal Personality, strongly argues crime is caused by criminals, not environments or living conditions or social status. He cites the following as "myths" about criminals and crime: Criminals don't know right from wrong; criminals are the hapless victims of oppressive social conditions; crime is contagious; crimes of passion are cases of temporary insanity; people turn criminal because they were rejected by society; watching violent television programs evokes violent behavior in children. Dr. Samenow argues that the criminal, not the environment, is responsible for criminal activities. Samenow states, "Criminals cause crime -- not bad neighborhoods, inadequate parents, television, schools, drugs, or unemployment. Crime resides within the minds of human beings and is not caused by social conditions."

When Samenow introduced these ideas in the late 1970s, he was perceived by some as a dewy-eyed, liberal reformer and by others a hard-line reactionary. Nevertheless, President Reagan appointed Samenow to his Task Force on Victims of Crime. Inside The Criminal Mind was published shortly after that.

Samenow is neither liberal nor reactionary. He simply champions personal, not societal, responsibility for crime. "Since the late nineteenth century," writes Samenow, "there has been a prevalent opinion that society is more to blame for crime than the criminal. Sociologists assert that the inner city youngster responds with rage to a society that has excluded him from the mainstream and made the American dream beyond his reach." Blaming the criminal rather than society is not novel, but many clinical psychologists disavow the idea.

The criminal mind still baffles psychologists. Why do some individuals murder and steal while others pursue benevolent interests? Theories abound. Psychologists William Healy and Augusta Bronner blamed juvenile crime on "deeply emotionally felt discomfort [stemming from a lack of] satisfying emotional relationships in [the] family circle." A 1939 U.S. Housing Authority report asserted, "Substandard housing is the direct cause of delinquency and crime, and its elimination would result in a crimeless world." In 1953 sociologist Frederic Wertham called comic books "primers for crime." Sociologist David Loth asserted that intense suburban pressure for status propel individuals into a life of crime. Sociologist Ira Goldenberg placed the blame on "inappropriate, malfunctioning, and otherwise non-actualizing social institutions." And still other sociologists have asserted that there would be fewer criminals if laws were changed and certain offenses decriminalized (i.e., prostitution and gambling). Criminologist Louise Shelley stated that crime is the result of "an understandable reaction to…rapid social changes." Psychologist Karl Menninger concluded that punishment is both futile and, by nature, criminal itself. Menninger argued that the punishment itself may gratify the criminal and inadvertently encourage criminal activity.

Thus, scores of psychologists and sociologists believe that individuals turn to crime because of negative societal influences -- on television, in movies, comics, magazines, books, and because of poverty, educational deficiencies, and the like. Samenow attacks these theories. He argues the criminal is in fact rational, calculating, and deliberate. Samenow writes, "Too long have the social sciences promulgated the view that a human organism comes into the world like a lump of clay to be shaped by external forces. This view renders us all victims! What it does accomplish is to make explanation of behavior relatively easy. If any of us had taken a criminal path, something could be found in our past to explain why we turned out as we did. If your child has problems, you will be faulted for your child-rearing practices, whatever they were. If you were strict, you will be told that your child has been affected by your harshness. If you were permissive, you will be accused of being too indulgent. If you were relatively democratic, you might be considered wishy-washy or even indifferent. Worst of all, you might be tagged as inconsistent, something that we are all guilty of to an extent."

The criminal blames society for his criminal actions simply because scores of psychologists and sociologists do. When the criminal is indeed apprehended, Samenow asserts, he points the finger of blame at society. "[The criminal] relate[s] a tale of horrors about their early lives. They seize upon any hardships in their lives, real or made up, to justify their acts against society. By portraying themselves as victims, they seek sympathy and hope to absolve themselves of culpability."

The criminal, reinforced by social theorists' rationalizations for crime, often develop distinctively self-justifying logic. In 1930 psychologist Alfred Adler noted, "With criminals, it is different: they have a private logic, a private intelligence. They are suffering from a wrong outlook upon the world, a wrong estimate of their own importance and the importance of other people."

Samenow supports Adler, even suggesting that criminals view people as "pawns." The criminal has a self-centered view of the world. The criminal has an inflated self-image. He believes that he is entitled to whatever he wants. He is constantly sizing up his opportunities to exploit people and situations. "[T]he criminal believes that he is entitled to whatever he desires, and he will pursue it ruthlessly….Many of the criminal's fantasies range beyond what is feasible, but once he comes up with an idea that seems plausible, he nourishes it until he is positive that he can enact it without a hitch….Wherever the criminal is, he visualizes people and property as opportunities for conquest….Criminals crave power for its own sake, and they will do anything to acquire it. Insatiable in their thirst for power and unprincipled in their exercise of it, they care very little whom they injure or destroy….In crime after crime, he asserts who he is -- a singularly special and powerful person with whom the world must reckon."

The criminal's self-important and -centered image of himself affects not only strangers. The criminal often views family members and friends as exploitable. Samenow writes, "As a child, the criminal has contempt not only for his parents' advice and authority but for the way they live, no matter what their social and economic circumstances. To him, their lives are plodding, dull, and barren. If his parents are poor, he scorns their lack of success….He does not fathom how toiling at a job can consume the bulk of his parents' working hours, especially when they have to work on someone else's terms. He cannot comprehend placing obligations ahead of convenience or pleasure. To him, having a good time is what life is all about. Work and other duties have nothing to do with having a good time."

Reading Samenow's descriptions of criminal psychology is like reading a case study on Willie Mak and Benjamin Ng. Mak's detailed planning and Ng's violent temper are explained through Samenow's research and results.

Mak indeed blamed society. When Mak was apprehended, he first tried to negotiate a deal with the interrogating sergeant. When that failed, he told the sergeant that he faced discrimination when looking for work outside of Chinatown. When Mak was in jail, awaiting his trial, he wrote a letter to the "Public" claiming he was ordered by the Hop Sing tong to rob the Wah Mee. He said he left the Club before any shooting began. He accused restaurant owners of dealing drugs and smuggling diamonds. Mak was a victim of sparring tongs, he pleaded, and Chinatown was filled with criminals. In essence, Mak blamed his environment. Moreover, Mak and Benjamin Ng blamed each other -- hence the separate trials.

Mak was an intelligent criminal. He had planned the heist for several years. He was also self-important, clearly the leader of the massacre. When he was recruiting accomplices, he told them, "If [the victims] resist me, I, Willie, will kill them. If the people with me, robbing these people, won't shoot them, I'll shoot them all." The patrons at the Wah Mee represented nothing more than a means to an end. They were influential, wealthy, prominent members of the Chinese community. They worked hard to earn respect within the community -- as restaurateurs, philanthropists, and small business owners. Mak simply knew how to plan a heist and fire a gun; that was enough to earn his own prominent position in the community -- as a thug and criminal; someone not to be messed with.

Given the cultural complexities of the Wah Mee murders, both Kwong's and Samenow's theories explain its occurrence. While Samenow insists that the individual is responsible for criminal behavior, one cannot ignore the Chinatown environment that Kwong describes. More importantly, one cannot deny that the Chinatown environment indeed had an impact on the young men's criminal behavior. They had been employed at illegal gambling clubs. The city was infested with corrupt cops who received payoffs from the gambling clubs. The two men were simply part of a larger, more corrupt system.

A "marriage" of theories must be considered. After all, Chinatown does not "breed" criminals, just as parents don't "breed" criminals. Not everyone employed in Chinatown works in illegal gambling clubs, nor do they come into contact with police "bagmen." Many run Asian newspapers, grocery stores, museums, and information centers. Their environment does not tolerate crime.

Samenow sums this differing -- yet shared -- environment well, describing how one of his clients turned into a criminal while his siblings remained "straight." His client claimed that he had been raised in an impoverished home. Samenow concludes, "It is interesting to note that in the same 'impoverished home' lived two sisters and one brother -- none of whom had been in trouble."

Chapter Eleven | The evidence proved that Willie Mak was very responsible for his actions. Good or bad, he knew what he was doing

This story originally appeared as a serialized feature in Asian Focus newspaper