Moving the city's factories out of view has cleared the air, but it has also carried a human toll.

Aly Song/Reuters

In March of 2008, the New York Times announced that marathoner Haile Gebrselassie would skip his signature event in the Beijing Olympics. After the news leaked, the world-record holder told reporters bluntly, "The pollution in China is a threat to my health." The Olympic Committee, along with many Chinese citizens took the remarks personally. Organizers countered that they had halted production at Beijing's dirtiest factories and pressured neighboring provinces to reduce the airborne particulate count. From one perspective, their efforts paid off: most of the Olympic hold-outs eventually crossed the picket line; international observers deemed the Games a success. But, from another, the damage was done: China's record of environmental abuse was broadcast to the world.

Four years and 700 miles removed from the Beijing Olympics, in Shanghai, efforts to massage international opinion are ongoing. As recently as twenty years ago, the east bank of the Huangpu River was a patchwork of fields dotted with oxen. Then canny city planners realized that, to be considered a world-class city, Shanghai would need a world-class skyline--and so Pudong was born. At breakneck speed, a welter of daring new structures sprung up opposite the Bund's Baroque grandeur. The message was clear: forget the fields full of coolies, the wandering livestock; forget everything you thought you knew about Shanghai. This is a modern city: Prosperous, cosmopolitan, striding confidently toward the future.

There is still a fly in the People's Ointment. For days or even weeks at a time, the iconic skyline is barely visible behind a blanket of smog. At such times, Shanghai's best impression of a Western metropolis wears a little thin. This is simply not a problem in New York or Paris. The Golden Gate Bridge has been known to vanish-but only because of natural mists rolling in from the bay. And so, with every tour group that visits the Bund, only to return "tsk tsk"-ing with photos of formless blobs, officials at the Shanghai Tourism Bureau grind their teeth a little lower.