As we are rushing to print, the countdown to the election proceeds: five days, four, three. . . .

This election might be the noisiest of any since the beginning of the democratization process ten years ago. Just look at the streets lined with placards and pennants, not to mention the huge space devoted to the elections in the media, and the concentrated TV advertising of the three major parties. The biggest winners might well be the media, who have plenty of subjects to cover and are earning money hand over fist. And of course don't forget the poster and pennant printers!

Regrettably, the voters-who should be the real winners-are not getting much of a chance to coolly evaluate which candidates will serve them best. The election coverage has focused on the Taipei and Kaohsiung mayoral races. Meanwhile, hopefuls for the Legislative Yuan and municipal councils, who will determine the quality of government, can't get any attention at all except by sidling up to the mayoral candidates. We are seeing attention-getting tricks totally unrelated to the candidate's qualifications, like throwing squealing piglets or making unsubstantiated accusations against those in the news spotlight. Has the media unknowingly become a factor in the deterioration of elections? Aren't the candidates forgetting their responsibilities to the voters?

Of course, not everything about this election is negative. Thankfully, voters are staying calm and cool in the face of candidate's provocations. They are refusing to accept candidates who are irrational or who engage in personal attacks. This is the reason why the issues that are most volatile-provincial identity and Taiwan independence-are not being used by candidates. Voters realize that these are not the issues they want their elected representatives to spend their time on. Most voters realize that sticking together is most important. Let us hope that the competition between the parties in Taiwan's democracy improves national competitiveness and makes people more tolerant of one another, rather than creating animosity.

Corresponding to the election is Taiwan's increasingly pluralistic culture and values. In one of the more amusing examples, Huang Yuan-hsing, a writer who strongly promotes the use of Taiwanese dialect, says that scholars should-if they want to really reflect Taiwan's local culture-stop asking "Where's the beef" and start asking "Where's the ground spicy pork?"

However exciting rapid pluralization of values may be, many people don't know how to react to the fragmenting of old values. The most sensitive of these values are related to sex. Today the taboo on discussing-and having-sex has been broken, and the media reports on it constantly. But many parents are worried about the effect of new social attitudes on their children, yet have no idea how to communicate with their children about sex.

A 1998 survey by the Durex company and the Mercy Memorial Foundation shows that the average age of the first taste of "forbidden fruit" in Taiwan is over 21. But statistics also show that Taiwan has the highest rate of teen pregnancy in industrial Asia. This figure tells us that we not only need to face this topic seriously, but also that sex education is urgently needed.

In this issue of Sinorama we explore the impact of youth sex on the family and society, and discuss the implementation of sex education in schools. We hope that more people will take an interest in this problem, and-besides showing curiosity, amazement, or disgust at the latest sex survey results-actively help the next generation with what should more properly be called "love education." This will be an interesting and challenging task for us all.