This phenomenon is not merely a return to old habits or rural mysticism. It has become a nationwide consumer frenzy, driven by the very demographic the Communist Party hoped would be its most rational constituency: the young and educated. In chasing these modern symbols of hope, they are losing more than just money.

[…] In today’s China, the most popular “spiritual” items aren’t books or teachings but small objects—especially crystals. These are sold not only as fashion items but as tools for cosmic power. Supposedly, they bring wealth, block bad energy, and balance inner forces. Livestreams offer quick lessons in “crystal basics,” and influencers promote them with the excitement once shown for new tech.

[…] Along with the crystal craze, astrology, tarot, and fortune-telling have become small but growing businesses. Highly educated youth—graduates, civil servants, tech workers—are quitting their jobs to become full-time “mystics.” On platforms like Taobao and WeChat, paid readings are everywhere. In many cities, you’ll find stylish little shops doing tarot readings, often run by baristas turned fortune-tellers.

This is happening despite—or maybe because of—government crackdowns. In 2021, China banned religious content on e-commerce sites and tightened rules on spiritual services. But the demand only adapted. Tarot readers now call themselves “emotional consultants.” Horoscope sellers move to foreign platforms like Discord. The state fights superstition with censorship, and loses every time.

[…] It would be wrong to see this wave of superstition as a uniquely Chinese flaw. But since 2024, China’s superstition boom has become a pressure cooker where many deep problems have gathered: economic slowdown, job stress, burnout, pushy online systems, and a desperate need for meaning.

Young Chinese are not naturally more superstitious. But they are trapped in an unstable system, and with no clear future, they are buying ready-made ones. These crystals and tarot cards aren’t ancient traditions—they’re quick-fix stories built from what’s left in the marketplace. Meanwhile, sellers and platforms continue testing how much people are willing to pay to ease their fears. [Source]

The Economist in January similarly described trends such as app-based horoscopes and fortune-telling and offline “metaphysical bars,” fueled by frustration at “a sluggish economy, a tight job market and intense competition in many aspects of life.” (Another Economist report the week before noted similar phenomena in the U.S. and India.)

The Communist Party has long tried to rid itself of what it calls “feudal superstition”. Last year the Central Party School, a training academy for officials, expressed concern about the number of members and cadres “believing in ghosts and gods”. It tried to clarify the party’s restrictions by publishing a Q&A on the matter. Occasionally participating in local folk customs or consulting a fortune-teller on a name for your baby? That’s fine. Spending a lot of time and money, especially public funds, on superstitious activities? Unacceptable.

The masses are also discouraged from embracing such practices. A notice issued by the city of Sanming in 2023 stated: “The public should improve their scientific literacy, enhance their psychological immunity to superstitious activities and not seek spiritual comfort through ‘fortune-telling’ when encountering real setbacks.” Other cities have followed suit. Last year some local governments cracked down on the burning of fake money and other paper offerings to the dead during the annual grave-sweeping festival.

State censors, with the help of internet firms, have tried to curb the spread of superstitious beliefs and divination services online. Search terms such as “astrology” and “fortune-telling” have been blocked on Taobao, an e-commerce market. But on Weibo, a social-media site, popular astrologers have accumulated tens of millions of followers. Some speak of playing a cat-and-mouse game with the authorities. A 24-year-old tarot-card reader in Shanghai jokes that she tries to divine her own fate—to see if jail time is in the offing. [Source]

There is also online hay to be made from confronting superstition. In April, South China Morning Post’s Zoey Zhang reported on Shandong-based influencer Zhang Shulin, who has built a following with video stunts debunking beliefs such as hauntings, shamanism, and ghost marriages. This, too, can be a hazardous approach if targets include traditional practices favored with official endorsement, however. Mixed martial artist Xu Xiaodong was hit with censorship, travel restrictions, financial penalties, and forced apologies following his efforts to puncture the inflated claims of purported kung fu masters, some of whom he flattened in bouts lasting only seconds. In 2022, a number of prominent online voices were silenced in apparent retaliation for their criticism of Lianhua Qingwen, a traditional Chinese medicine-based herbal product promoted by Chinese authorities for treatment of COVID.

A pair of translations at CDT last month described how other frustrated young Chinese are turning to another old ritual: the annual civil service exams.

The subsidiary laws include designating premises linked to the Office for Safeguarding National Security (OSNS), Beijing’s national security office in Hong Kong, as “prohibited places” and drawing up related offences, as well as setting up a mechanism allowing mainland China to exercise jurisdiction over national security cases.

[…] According to the legislation gazetted on Tuesday, anyone who discloses any information related to the measures and investigation by the OSNS can face a fine of up to HK$500,000 and imprisonment for up to seven years.

Anyone who provides false or misleading information to the OSNS is also liable to conviction and can be punished with a maximum fine of HK$500,000 and a jail sentence of up to seven years.

[…] The subsidiary legislation stated that any government department or public servant must provide “necessary and reasonable assistance” to the OSNS. [Source]

Chinese jurisdiction over Hong Kong in certain national security cases is based in part on Article 55 of the National Security Law imposed by Beijing, but the new legislation calls for establishing “a mechanism at the local law level” to allow the OSNS to perform the Article 55 mandate “effectively” and further solidify Beijing’s authority. Under Article 55, the OSNS has jurisdiction in circumstances when a case is determined to be a “serious situation” which renders the city government unable to enforce the law effectively or counter a “major and imminent threat to national security,” or if the case is complex due to the involvement of a foreign country. The OSNS can also take over a case at the request of the Hong Kong government. Secretary for Justice Paul Lam claimed, “Human rights and freedom provisions will not be affected in any way by subsidiary legislation.” Six sites used by the OSNS have already been declared as “prohibited places.”

In addition to the Hong Kong government, some citizens are showing their own zeal for national security. A BBC investigation published over the weekend described the story of a 60-year-old Hong Kong pro-China informer named Innes Tang, a prominent self-described patriot who assists the police with surveillance work:

He and his volunteers have taken screen grabs from social media of any activities or comments they believe could be in breach of the [National Security Law].

He also established a hotline for tip-offs from the public and encouraged his online followers to share information on the people around them.

Nearly 100 individuals and organisations have been reported to the authorities by him and his followers, he says.

"Does reporting work? We wouldn’t do it if it didn’t," Mr Tang says. "Many had cases opened by the police… with some resulting in jail terms."

Mr Tang says he hasn’t investigated alleged law breakers himself, but simply reported incidents he thinks warrant scrutiny – describing it as "proper community-police co-operation".

[…] Hong Kong’s authorities have set up their own national security hotline, receiving 890,000 tip-offs from November 2020 to February this year – the city’s security bureau told the BBC. [Source]

The recent national security legislation is just the latest step in an ongoing entrenchment of authoritarian rule in Hong Kong. Last month, the Hong Kong Center for Human Rights published its annual human rights report for 2024, which documented patterns of repression across a variety of domains and the government’s efforts to restrict civil liberties. Here are two key insights from the report’s executive summary:

1. Expansion of the National Security Regime
The enactment of the Safeguarding National Security Ordinance (SNSO) in 2024 has significantly expanded Hong Kong’s national security apparatus. Building on the 2020 National Security Law (NSL), the SNSO empowers the executive to override judicial processes, curtail fair trial guarantees, and assert extraterritorial jurisdiction. The decisions made by the Committee for Safeguarding National Security of the HKSAR are explicitly binding and beyond judicial review, and the Chief Executive may issue binding national security certificates at any time.

2. Erosion of Judicial Independence and Access to Justice
The judiciary has been sidelined in national security matters, with executive authorities exerting direct influence over legal outcomes. Restrictions on legal representation, declining approval rates for legal aid, scrutiny of crowdfunding, and the imposition of punitive cost orders have fostered a hostile environment for public interest litigation. High-profile legal reprisals against civil society actors have created a chilling effect on access to justice. [Source]

In other news related to national security in Hong Kong, earlier this month the city’s national security police arrested the father and brother of Anna Kwok, executive director of the U.S.-based Hong Kong Democracy Council and one of 19 overseas activists targeted with a HK$1 million ($127,656) bounty for her arrest. The police allege her family members dealt with her finances, and they could face up to seven years in prison. Elsewhere, four members of the “Hong Kong 47” group of pro-democracy activists jailed for national security offences were released last month. They include Claudia Mo, Kwok Ka-ki, Jeremy Tam, and Gary Fan, who had served sentences of over four years. Most of the rest of the group members are still in prison serving sentences of up to ten years.

However, the real winner might be China’s military-industrial complex, according to some analysts and Chinese nationalists. Pakistan’s government claimed to have shot down three of India’s new French-made Rafale jets (at least one was confirmed) using Chinese-made J-10C fighter jets. Over 80 percent of Pakistan’s military equipment comes from China, while India’s military is increasingly reliant on Western countries. The conflict seemed to give Chinese weapons a significant boost in credibility, with the Chinese manufacturer of the J-10 announcing that its shares had risen by over 40 percent in two days. “There’s no better advertisement than a real combat situation … This came as a pleasant surprise for China … the result is quite striking,” Yun Sun from the Stimson Center told the Financial Times. Eric Olander at the China-Global South Project noted that some analysts described this as China’s “DeepSeek Moment” for military technology:

There was a palpable sense of euphoria in China this weekend as Chinese-made J-10C and JF-17 fighter jets saw combat for the first time over the disputed Kashmir region — and performed impressively.

The J-10C’s successful use of electronic jamming and reports of downing several Indian Air Force Rafale jets (the exact number remains disputed) were widely celebrated in Chinese media. Many likened the moment to another "DeepSeek Moment" — a reference to China’s growing confidence in its domestically developed technologies.

But beneath the excitement was also a deep sense of relief. These jets had never been tested in actual combat, and despite public bravado, few could say with certainty how they’d perform under pressure.

[…] Now, it appears China has succeeded — and the world should take note. [Source]

On Weibo, the hashtag “US officials claim J-10 shot down at least two Indian warplanes” attracted over 35 million views, and state-affiliated media published promotional content about the Chinese aircraft. Perhaps the most notable example of nationalism to emerge from the Chinese internet was a viral video by a Chinese influencer “Brother Hao” mocking India’s downed military jets, featuring Chinese actors dressed up in Indian costumes singing along to a remix of the Indian song “Tunak Tunak Tun.” Yuanyue Dang reported for the South China Morning Post:

The minute-long parody video, which has even gone viral overseas, has fuelled a new wave of nationalist fervour in China. Similar videos have appeared on Pakistani social media, while Indian social media users expressed anger.

The video is the latest celebration among Chinese netizens over the performance of the J-10C fighter jet in last week’s India-Pakistan conflict, although Beijing has remained cautious about commenting on the issue.

[…] “Brother Hao” has nearly 16 million followers on Douyin, China’s version of TikTok, and is known for creating videos in which he adapts songs from other ethnic groups and imitates people from those cultures, including Indians and Arabs.

The influencer is no stranger to controversy. His parody videos often show him wearing Indian clothing, sporting a small moustache and painting his face brown, with frequent references to “curry”. In 2023, an Indian TV channel accused him of racism.

Some people have expressed concern that the video could harm China-India relations, but nationalist influencers have defended the content creator. [Source]

While the majority of comments under Chinese social-media posts sharing Brother Hao’s video were supportive, some criticized the video as being racist. CDT Chinese editors published a compilation of some of these critical comments, which referenced past incidents of double standards applied to Chinese citizens’ tolerance of discrimination. Some examples include the recurrent blackface skits aired on CCTV’s Spring Festival Gala, racist fan encounters during iShowSpeed’s recent China tour, and nationalist deflections of Chinese-commissioned African “shout-out” videos. The CDT Chinese article about the Brother Hao video analyzed some of the dualities surrounding racial and ethnic discrimination in China. One netizen comment referenced online speculation about whether Ms. Dong, a trainee doctor involved in the recent “4+4” medical scandal, benefited from nepotism in her career by being born into a family of "Beijing Brahmins"—in other words, a well-educated and well-connected family:

Some netizens have commented that Chinese people exhibit both hypersensitivity to racial discrimination (when accusing others of insulting China) and extreme insensitivity (when casually insulting others). "They are outraged when others racially discriminate against them," wrote one, "yet take unmitigated glee in racially discriminating against others". […] Of course, many Chinese also expressed strong criticism of Brother Hao’s video. As one said, "This willingness to resort to anything just to generate online hype is a disgrace to all Chinese people." Another wrote, "If the shoe were on the other foot, would Chinese people be considered the victims of racism, or just hypersensitive?" One netizen observed sharply: "We ourselves are guilty of dividing people into hierarchies. Just last week, we were talking about whether Miss Dong had been born into a family of ‘Beijing Brahmins,’ but now we’re suddenly finding some kind of ethnic cohesion in insulting Indians." [Chinese]

The India-Pakistan conflict also revealed certain similarities between those countries and China when it comes to media control. Jon Allsop at the Columbia Journalism Review wrote about the “fog of war” resulting from both governments trying to control the narrative. The Indian government blocked thousands of social media accounts belonging to prominent figures and media outlets, removed Pakistani audio-video content from platforms, blocked news websites, and arrested journalists who reported critically on the conflict. The Pakistani government, ironically, lifted a long-standing ban on the social-media platform X in order to enlist its citizens in the battle to control the global narrative. Government-backed disinformation has been propagated by both sides. (All of these media censorship tactics are common in China.)

Other pieces highlighted the narrative front of the conflict. Global Voices provided an analysis of the narratives regarding Kashmir. And the Eye on China Substack, produced by the Takshashila Institution, a research think tank based out of Bengaluru, India, argued in a recent article that the Chinese government’s public messaging during the conflict expressed implicit support for Pakistan. The author, Anushka Saxena, stated that coverage by Xinhua and CCTV was notably similar to that of Pakistani media. She also noted that Chinese military analysts had eagerly written that a hot war would be an opportunity to test all of the “Made in China” defence products acquired by Pakistan’s military.

Translations by Cindy Carter.

The controversy entered the public eye in late April, courtesy of a leaked letter from the estranged wife of Dr. Xiao Fei, a thoracic surgeon at Beijing’s prestigious China-Japan Friendship Hospital, to the hospital disciplinary committee. The letter contained details of the doctor’s alleged affairs with several colleagues (including one Dong Xiying, a young resident at the hospital), and an allegation that Dr. Xiao left a patient anesthetized on the operating table for 40 minutes while he left the operating theatre to comfort Ms. Dong. After a brief investigation, Dr. Xiao was sacked by the hospital and expelled from the Chinese Communist Party.

But that was simply the first act in what would become a much larger controversy. Internet sleuths who dug into Ms. Dong’s background discovered that she was a “returnee” who had earned an economics degree at Barnard College in the U.S., was from a fairly influential family background, and had enjoyed an academic and career trajectory that may have been helped along by nepotism and string-pulling. Perhaps most controversial was Dong’s rapid rise via the “4+4” accelerated-degree pilot program at Peking Union Medical College (PUMC), which allows a small number of “elite” university graduates—even those with undergraduate degrees unrelated to medicine or biology—to attain a medical degree in only four years, a much shorter timeline than is typical for medical students in China. Netizens also raised questions about Ms. Dong’s publication history, including a graduate thesis that was suspiciously short, and author credits on research papers for projects she didn’t seem to have played much of a role in. (For more background on the multifaceted scandal, we recommend What’s On Weibo’s excellent account of the key protagonists and events.)

Discussion of the scandal proved so popular that at one point, it accounted for more than half of the top 50 “hot search” topics on Weibo, according to WeChat blogger “History Rhymes.” But just a few days later, as the blogger noted on May 5, they had disappeared from the list:

I checked Weibo’s “hot search” list today, and there are no longer any topics about Miss Dong, Peking Union Medical College, etc.

Keep in mind that just a couple of days ago, more than half of the top 50 “hot search” topics were about or related to her.

But just because it’s not trending, doesn’t mean that people aren’t discussing it. Netizens are still digging into the matter. [Chinese]

In addition to Weibo apparently muting the topic, there was also self-censorship on the part of PUMC, which removed content related to Ms. Dong from its website and edited her name out of a 2023 commencement speech given by the college president. Ms. Dong’s graduate thesis and other publications mysteriously disappeared from the academic database portal CNKI (China National Knowledge Infrastructure). After their removal was noticed, it briefly became the top trending search topic on Weibo.

CDT Chinese editors have archived 21 articles and essays related to the “4+4” scandal and its various corollaries; at least three of these have since been censored. The first of these deleted articles appeared on May 1, under the headline, “Could Miss Dong’s Family Be Considered Beijing Brahmins?” Written by journalist Wang Mingyuan, who runs the WeChat public account Fuchengmen Courtyard No. 6, the article argues that Ms. Dong’s family are simply upper middle class, not highly privileged cadres, suggesting that the kind of string-pulling behind her career could be even more pervasive and concerning. Wang’s article also includes a widely circulated (and now censored) meme poking fun at hospital corruption. In the now iconic cartoon, every doctor, nurse, patient, lamp, and piece of medical equipment in the operating theater claims to have gotten into the hospital by leveraging connections:

Patient on the operating table: I got in here through connections.
Doctor: Me, too.
Row of nurses: I did, too. Me too! Same here.
Various medicine cabinets and items of medical equipment: Me, too.
Overhead surgical lamp: Same here!
Another item of medical equipment, with a thought bubble: Hey, didn’t we all?
(source: Wang Mingyuan/WeChat)

Another now-deleted article, published on May 4 by WeChat account Elephant News, provides details about PUMC’s accelerated “4+4” doctoral degree program, and compares it to the usual "5+3+4" route for Chinese medical students: five years of undergraduate-level medical education, followed by three years of master’s-level medical coursework and four years of doctoral-level medical coursework. The author notes how unusual it was that Dong Xiying, whose undergraduate degree was in economics, was allowed to help perform surgery when she was only in her second year of medical school. The article also includes a screenshot showing angry comments left under a PUMC social media account, with netizens complaining that going to see a doctor now feels like “making a holy pilgrimage,” expressing concerns that their doctors might not be qualified if they graduated from the accelerated “4+4” program, and demanding that PUMC make the list of “4+4” program participants public.

On May 5, CDT Chinese editors archived a deleted WeChat article by Sina Finance, which reproduced the answer given by Tencent’s Yuanbao AI chatbot in response to a Sina editor’s query about what other individuals might be implicated in violating the regulations of PUMC’s “4+4” program. The chatbot gave a detailed answer organized into four headings, the first of which listed known participants in the “4+4” program. The second listed individuals who may have benefited from personal connections or affiliations. The third section, enumerating some characteristic examples of systemic privilege, claimed that “35% of the ‘4+4’ program participants have parents who are departmental-level or higher-level cadres, which far exceeds the proportion found among students in typical medical school programs (2.1%).” The chatbot also claimed to have found admission loopholes (“Some of the ‘4+4’ students did not meet the pre-med course requirements”) and possible academic fraud (“Some of the students’ thesis papers did not meet the required page length, with some only 12 pages long”). The fourth and final section in the AI’s answer discussed the broader public opinion controversy over the “4+4” scandal.

One WeChat essay, published on May 6 and still available online, provides an interesting personal and historical perspective on how socioeconomic privilege has evolved since the beginning of China’s Reform and Opening. In "Deteriorating Circumstances Have Given Rise to ‘Second-Generation Privilege,’” essayist and commentator Xipo (“Western Slope”) explores how slowing economic growth, fiercer competition, and fewer opportunities for social mobility in recent years have spurred those with privilege to resort to ever more extreme measures to pass on that privilege to their children:

After publishing my last article [“All that Remains of the ‘4+4’ Scandal Is the Meme About It”], a friend and I discussed the phenomenon of “second-generation privilege.” That discussion made me realize that the unchecked proliferation of second-generation privilege is actually the result of deteriorating [socioeconomic] circumstances. It took me a while to realize this, but now that I do, it makes a lot of sense.

This friend of mine works at a scientific research institute in southern China. He was at university around the year 2000, a critical juncture in time [for the purpose of our discussion]. I won’t mention his field of study, but let us call him “Professor A.”

Professor A recalls that when he was at university, few of his classmates were what we might call “second-generation scions.” While there were some who excelled at their studies and followed conventional paths mapped out for them by parents, most students pursued majors in different fields from those of their parents.

Back then, of course, the overall population was much less educated than it is today. Many university students had parents who were farmers or factory workers, which is something we should keep in mind.

Professor A observes that when he was a student, even the children of professors and department heads rarely followed in their parents’ footsteps. “In those years, there was an abundance of choice when it came to academic majors and career paths. The children of faculty members chose various majors, regardless of what their parents happened to be teaching.”

But there has been a palpable shift over the past six or seven years, he notes. Now an academic advisor to university students, Professor A has found that most of his colleagues’ children are pursuing the same fields of study as their parents.

Thinking back over the news and public discourse of the past few years, I found that many things instantly clicked into place. That oft-repeated term “involution” [内卷 nèijuǎn, a profound sense of burnout caused by cutthroat academic and socioeconomic competition], suddenly took on a concrete form.

As the old saying goes, “Pavilions situated closest to the water are the first to bask in the moonlight” [近水楼台先得月, jìnshuǐlóutái xiān dé yuè; in other words, proximity has its benefits]. But in order to benefit from structural proximity, there must first be a structure in place. If we examine the history of China’s gaokao [university entrance exam], the most illuminating example can be found in the large cohort of post-Cultural Revolution exam-takers. [This cohort encompassed individuals across an unusually diverse age range, from teens to thirty-somethings whose education had been interrupted by the chaos of the Cultural Revolution.] Back then, teachers and students alike were starting from scratch, and everyone was positioned at the same starting line.

As the educational system gradually returned to normal and became more standardized, a certain group of people (or more accurately, a certain group of families) came to occupy central positions in the hierarchy of academia, scientific research, and resource allocation. This is not to dismiss them entirely, of course, for their contributions were essential as China was starting again from scratch.

During the phase of socioeconomic expansion, this wasn’t too big a problem. Right around the year 2000, for example, socioeconomic conflict was still largely centered in rural areas, and the “three rural issues” (agricultural production, rural development, and rural income) commanded nationwide attention. Although this was only a couple of decades ago, it now feels like a distant memory.

Naturally, by then, some far-sighted types had already begun grooming their second-generation successors. But it was also a time in which emerging industries were booming, culture was vibrant, and society was suffused with ambition and optimism. Even privileged members of the “second generation” didn’t just want to ride their parents’ coattails: they wanted to outdo them, to leave them in the dust.

But as China began to transition from one phase to the next, from expansion to contraction, both the first and second generations came to realize that the most reliable path to success was for children to follow in their parents’ footsteps.

By the latter half of the 2010s, China’s period of breakneck urbanization and industrialization was drawing to a close, and [socioeconomic mobility] had begun to congeal. There were also harbingers that China’s integration into the international economic system had run its course.

Now that we’re as materially well-off as other countries, and are more or less able to compete at the same level, our once-blue oceans of opportunity have become churning red seas of competition.

This is the point at which the first generation advises their children to follow in their footsteps, the better to avail themselves of a wealth of parental first-hand experience and ready-made resources. If the children demur, the parents might say, “Fine, go out and try to make your own way in the world. See how you like competing with a mob of people, all fighting over the same lousy job.” And after taking a quick look around and sizing up the competition, the second generation might think to themselves, “Sure, I’ll take your advice. Work is work. What more could I want?”

Uncertainty about the future is spurring those who already occupy lofty positions to marshal all available resources to pass their competitive advantages on to the next generation. This type of survival strategy does not differ fundamentally from that seen in the animal and plant kingdoms.

Naturally, these sorts of collective choices can have extremely negative consequences. Amid deteriorating circumstances, second-generation scions may happily “settle” for enjoying their second-generation privilege, but today’s bona-fide “first generation,” those with no parental legacy to lean on, suffer a dual blow. There are fewer opportunities available to them, and increasingly unfair competition for the few opportunities that do remain.

With this in mind, I have even more empathy for young people today. The ones wailing in frustration are those who bear the brunt of this “dual blow.”

Yet I would still advise them not to conflate their own career development with critical analysis of the socioeconomic environment. As I’ve said before, we can’t wait for society to improve before we start living our own lives. Even in conditions of unfair competition, we must take the initiative and find our own ladder to success. But I now have a deeper understanding of the dejection that so many are feeling right now.

And to those privileged first and second generations, I would like to say: “Other people still exist, even if you don’t see them. Other voices still exist, even if you don’t hear them. They are not simply your competitors; they are emblematic of shared opportunity and a path forward for everyone.”

Although humans are part of the animal kingdom, too, we should be able to do better than simply adhere to the doctrine of “survival of the fittest.” Even beavers know how to shape the environment to their advantage by building dams. Human beings, especially those who consider themselves “elites,” must learn to take responsibility for the environment they shape and inhabit.

After all, someone needs to think about the long-term prospects and overall health of our society. [Chinese]

Honey Future, by Gauthier Delecroix (CC BY 2.0)

On Thursday, the Made in China Journal (MICJ) published its latest issue, titled “Chinese Journalism is Dead: Long Live Chinese Journalism!” The issue traces transformations in China’s media landscape over the past decade to demonstrate the ways in which journalism has both deteriorated and adapted to the Party-state’s tightening grip on information. One article, by Dan Chen, analyzes how Chinese local television news "performs governance." Chen focuses on a genre of local television news called minsheng xinwen (民生新闻, literally “news about people’s livelihood”), which highlights “citizen grievances and bureaucratic failures, framing them within a narrative of governmental accountability and responsiveness.” While these sorts of programs reinforce the state’s legitimacy, their top-down orchestration has also eroded public trust in media:

This practice of ‘controlled criticism’ allows limited critiques of governance to flourish within carefully delineated boundaries. Minsheng xinwen programs use investigative reporting to expose problems such as delayed services, poor infrastructure, and bureaucratic inefficiencies. Yet, far from threatening the regime, this critical reporting reinforces its legitimacy by positioning the state as both responsive to citizen concerns and capable of delivering solutions.

[…] In the early years of minsheng xinwen, many reports arose organically, driven by journalists who independently identified compelling stories through citizen complaints, hotline calls, or grassroots investigations. These organically initiated stories often reflected the agency of journalists within the constraints of state control. However, as political oversight tightened under President Xi Jinping’s leadership, this space for spontaneity has steadily diminished.

[…] The shift towards orchestrated reporting carries significant implications for the credibility of local television news. Early iterations of minsheng xinwen enjoyed widespread public trust, as their investigative tone and tangible outcomes made them appear authentic advocates for citizen concerns. Over time, however, the increasingly performative nature of orchestrated reports has eroded this trust. [Source]

At a smaller scale, a similar sleight of hand by the state can be seen in the evolution of print media. Last month, Jianbing Li, Jiakun Jack Zhang, Duoji Jiang, and Weifeng Zhong published an article in the Journal of Contemporary China titled, “Domestic Politics and Editorial Control Over Foreign News Coverage in the People’s Daily, 1993–2022.” The article found that, particularly under Xi Jinping, news coverage of foreign affairs in the People’s Daily has been steadily replaced by editorializing about foreign affairs:

This study examines the dynamics of foreign coverage in China’s official media as the country becomes more globally active. Many scholars argue that China has adopted a more assertive foreign policy and positioned itself as a global leader under Xi Jinping. Yet, analysis of over 1 million People’s Daily articles from 1993 to 2022 reveals that official Chinese media have notably reduced foreign news coverage during his administration. The authors suggest that foreign coverage is influenced more by domestic politics than by China’s growing international interests. As Chinese leaders consolidate power in their second terms, they exert greater editorial control, replacing foreign news coverage with commentary on foreign policy. This trend is not unique to Xi, but it is particularly pronounced during his tenure. [Source]

Our analysis reveals that foreign coverage is influenced more by domestic politics than by China’s growing international interests.

As Chinese leaders consolidate power, they exert greater editorial control, replacing foreign news coverage with commentary on foreign policy. pic.twitter.com/BFBt9WAV2m

— Jack Zhang (@HanFeiTzu) April 21, 2025

Many journalists are also deterred by their lack of autonomy and grueling work conditions. The South China Morning Post recently highlighted the story of a young woman who obtained a master’s degree in journalism from Peking University, interned at prominent state media agencies, and then swapped her high-paying media job for working at the university canteen. She stated that at the media outlets where she had worked, she chafed at the rigorous performance indicators and pressure to reply to messages from her boss at all hours of the day and night. “Compared to those jobs, working as a canteen auntie brings me more joy,” she said. In an article for Initium Media, translated by China Media Project, Xiaobai Yu described how many state television stations not only impose arduous working conditions but also force journalists to solicit advertisements in order to alleviate financial pressure, which corrupts their journalistic work and erodes public trust in the media:

In China today, there are 389 broadcasting and television stations at the prefecture-level and above, according to early 2024 data from China’s National Radio and Television Administration (NRTA). There are 2,099 county-level television stations, and 33 educational television stations. Each television station broadcasts across several channels, and some operate 10 or more. But in 2024, as rumors circulated on social platforms that “nearly 2,000 local television stations are on the verge of collapse” (有近2000家地方電視台行將倒閉), the veneer of viability seemed to slip.

Regarding this figure, an individual working in a propaganda management department of a central government institution told Initium Media that while the above statement may to some extent be exaggerated, the fact that numerous local television stations face financial difficulties is undeniable. “Everyone is living like beggars, including China Central Television and leading provincial satellite TV stations,” they said.

[…] The gradual “salesification” (銷售化) of reporters has become a trend for television station workers in China, including at major state-run outfits like China Central Television (CCTV). To alleviate financial pressure, many television stations assign business tasks to their staff, meaning that directors, editors, and reporters must actively solicit advertisements. This, in fact, has become the primary standard for assessment when it comes to key performance indicators, or KPIs.

[…] “Under the current atmosphere of high-pressure control and political prioritization, television will gradually die out,” [said the aforementioned source working in the propaganda office of a central government institution]. “This is an inevitable end.” [Source]

In the face of these challenges, many Chinese journalists have ventured abroad to pursue media initiatives in the diaspora. Vivian Wu, founder of the media platform Dasheng (大声), wrote in MICJ about how the influx of fresh talent through migration has made Chinese diasporic media more diverse and active in offering uncensored content that both complements existing news from mainland China and offers its own unique perspectives. Last month, Oiwan Lam at Global Voices sampled several Hong Kong exile media outlets, among hundreds of Hong Kong journalists who left the city since the National Security Law. She also noted their struggles for financial sustainability (Flow HK announced it will shut down) and against transnational repression (numerous media workers are among those wanted for national security cases).

Land sales measures, foreign investment data and unemployment indicators have gone dark in recent years. Data on cremations and a business confidence index have been cut off. Even official soy sauce production reports are gone.

In all, Chinese officials have stopped publishing hundreds of data points once used by researchers and investors, according to a Wall Street Journal analysis.

In most cases, Chinese authorities haven’t given any reason for ending or withholding data. But the missing numbers have come as the world’s second biggest economy has stumbled under the weight of excessive debt, a crumbling real-estate market and other troubles—spurring heavy-handed efforts by authorities to control the narrative.

[…] Some data are still publicly available but harder to get. Beijing passed a law in 2021 that caused data providers to make certain information—such as corporate registry data and satellite images—accessible only in mainland China.

[….] Some information that has disappeared defies explanation. Data providing estimates of the size of elementary school toilets stopped being released in 2022, then resumed publication in February. Official soy sauce production data stopped appearing in May 2021, and hasn’t returned. [Source]

Another reminder of the unreliability of China’s official statistics came in March after the U.S. announced that its embassies around the world would cease publishing data about local air quality. This long-running transparency initiative began in 2008 when the U.S. Embassy in Beijing shared real-time information about toxic levels of PM2.5 microparticles in the capital’s air. The Chinese Foreign Ministry later complained that because the U.S. data conflicted with China’s (which measured only larger PM10 particles), they were causing “confusion” and undesirable “social consequences.” Under pressure, the Chinese government eventually established its own PM2.5 monitoring system, admitted that air pollution was a significant problem, and took greater corrective measures. However, there is still insufficient transparency in this domain. A recent paper in the journal Nature revealed notable discrepancies between China’s annual and monthly official statistics regarding CO2 emissions between 2014 and 2020 when calculating near real-time estimates of those emissions.

Shaky statistics such as those help Chinese state media’s external propaganda. In an article from March titled “Fact Check: What Western media get wrong about China’s economy,” Xinhua argued that “Western media’s relentless fixation on peddling narratives of China’s economic doom demonstrates their entrenched bias and agenda-driven reporting. Contrary to those claims, […] key economic indicators showed significant improvement” in China’s economy. Western reporting aside, China’s official annual GDP growth rates have been widely seen as misleading, generating doubts about the true state of the Chinese economy. In March, Nicholas R. Lardy and Tianlei Huang at the Peterson Institute for International Economics noted that while China’s National Bureau of Statistics (NBS) has improved the quality of certain macroeconomic data—such as fixed asset investment, international trade in goods, household income and expenditure, and value-added in financial services—it continues to selectively withhold other important information:

The paradox of China’s economic data thus lies in its dual character: The disappearance of certain data points, sometimes those related to economic weakness, raise concerns about the authority’s selective transparency. Yet at the same time, Beijing has better aligned its data with international standards and improved their quality. While its push for quality improvements shows its commitment to more reliable statistics, its selective withholding of information inevitably undermines confidence in the overall picture. If Beijing really wants to build trust in its economic data, it needs to ensure greater transparency, even though some statistics may expose vulnerabilities in its economy. [Source]

Last November, Vincent Brussee published an article in The China Quarterly about the “missingness” of Chinese policy documents. Among the hundreds of thousands of policy documents he scraped from official sources between 2021 and 2023, nearly 20 percent were unavailable two years after their publication. Within the latter group, 10 percent were unavailable due to issues uploading the websites, 7.7 percent due to broken links, and 1.9 percent had been intentionally deleted. Brussee described the implications of these findings for researchers’ knowledge base of China:

As this paper demonstrates, there is significant variation in policy transparency and document availability over time. Transparency originally improved between 2008 and the mid-2010s. Today, however, transparency is in decline in several fields, especially in fields where there are related geopolitical tensions. There is also significant variation among types of documents, with top-level policies seeing significantly higher disclosure rates than lower-level documents. Variation among topics appears primarily in the extent to which a topic is related to national security or citizens’ daily lives. Finally, disappearance of documents is a real challenge for research. Thus, studies working with policy data must be open about how they mitigate missingness.

[…] This paper invites broader reflection on the fragility of our knowledge base and the use of convenient datasets in China studies. Policy documents are not propaganda, yet the fact that all these data are available to “us” also suggests that their availability serves a political purpose. The developments highlighted throughout this paper suggests that this curation of information sources is only likely to intensify. Understanding the context in which these sources are produced and what can – and, more importantly, cannot – be learned from them is crucial. [Source]

CDT has covered numerous incidents of Chinese sources publishing, and often later censoring, official data in ways that many netizens deem questionable. The following is a non-exhaustive list of examples from the past two years.

• January 2025: After online sleuths found numerous examples of data fraud in clinical trials for generic drugs in China, China’s National Medical Products Administration claimed the data irregularities were simply “editing errors” and then blocked access to the data.
• December 2024: Viral video and transcripts of two unusually critical speeches about the accuracy of official statistics on the Chinese economy—by economists Gao Shanwen and Fu Peng, respectively—were deleted from multiple Chinese social media platforms, and the economists’ WeChat accounts were shut down.
• August 2024: After the State Council Information Office hosted a series of press conferences intended to showcase government accomplishments using optimistic statistics, some netizens sardonically mentioned “launching Sputniks” or “10,000 catties per mu,” phrases that reference the insanely optimistic targets and grossly exaggerated rice and grain yields reported by localities during the Great Leap Forward.
• July 2024: Public access to a tanker-truck tracking app was suspended after investigative reports revealed that cooking oil was being transported in fuel-oil tanker trucks that were not washed between transports.
• April 2024: The NBS announcement of a high nationwide average per-capita disposable income led many netizens to mock this “daily dose of humor” and wonder, “When can I expect to receive my portion of this increase?”
• February 2024: A Guangzhou research center’s public opinion poll on the state of the private economy, the outlook for employment, and current incomes showed the largest drop in public satisfaction in 30 years. A post about the poll was deleted from WeChat.
• August 2023: After youth unemployment hit a record 21.3 percent, the government stopped publishing data on the subject and online censors targeted discussion of unemployment.
• July 2023: A report on provincial cremation statistics was removed from Zhejiang’s government website and discussion of the statistics were censored on Q&A site Zhihu, after the central government stopped publishing cremation data.
• June 2023: A series of infographics from Sohu News highlighting poverty, youth unemployment, and other social issues, using statistics mostly drawn from government sources, were scrubbed from Weibo.
• May 2023: Media outlets reported that China’s top financial data provider, Wind Information, began restricting foreign access to its data in 2022, and company information databases Qichacha and Tianyancha also shut down access for foreign users.
• January 2023: After the NBS announced China’s sharp population decline, the state-affiliated Beijing Business Today reported on a survey purporting to show that “80% of university students would like to have two children,” drawing online mockery about the misleading results.

For more on this topic, see CDT’s archives related to data and statistics, and our interview with Jeremy Wallace about data manipulation in China. (This CDT post from May 2024 also contains a related timeline about censorship of economic content in China, which includes but is not limited to content about official statistics.)

Although physical attacks against journalists are the most visible violations of press freedom, economic pressure is also a major, more insidious problem. The economic indicator on the RSF World Press Freedom Index now stands at an unprecedented, critical low as its decline continued in 2025. As a result, the global state of press freedom is now classified as a “difficult situation” for the first time in the history of the Index.

[…] For over ten years, the Index’s results have warned of a worldwide decline in press freedom. In 2025, a new low point emerged: the average score of all assessed countries fell below 55 points, falling into the category of a “difficult situation.” More than six out of ten countries (112 in total) saw their overall scores decline in the Index.

For the first time in the history of the Index, the conditions for practising journalism are “difficult” or “very serious” in over half of the world’s countries and satisfactory in fewer than one in four.

[…] Out of the 32 countries and territories in the Asia-Pacific region, 20 have seen their economic score decline in the 2025 World Press Freedom Index. The systemic media control in authoritarian regimes is often inspired by China’s propaganda model. China (178th) remains the world’s largest jail for journalists and reentered the bottom trio of the Index, coming just ahead of North Korea (179th). Meanwhile, the concentration of media ownership in the hands of influential groups linked to those in power — as seen in India (151st) — combined with growing economic pressures even in established democracies, means that press freedom in the region faces mounting repression and increasing uncertainty. [Source]

For the first time, Hong Kong slipped into the “red zone,” or the lowest category of the index, alongside China. RSF also noted that Hong Kong is among the territories that now directs subsidies toward pro-government media. Tom Grundy from the Hong Kong Free Press reported on the city’s uniquely precipitous drop in the rankings:

“At RSF, we have never seen such a sharp and rapid deterioration in the press freedom record of any country or territory,” the watchdog’s Asia-Pacific Bureau Advocacy Officer Aleksandra Bielakowska⁩ told HKFP. “Today, Hong Kong increasingly resembles neighbouring China, the world’s largest prison for journalists.”

[…] Hong Kong saw sharp dips in all five of the watchdog’s indicators: political context, legal framework, economic context, socio-cultural context, and safety – adding up to a historic low score of 39.86.

The free expression NGO said: “The main factor behind this decline is the deterioration of the political indicator (-7.28 pts), notably due to the September 2024 conviction for ‘sedition’ of Chung Pui-kuen and Patrick Lam, former editors of Stand News. This is the first sedition case against the media since the UK handed over the territory in 1997.” [Source]

The 2025 RSF index of world press freedom is out.Hong Kong is ranked 140 out of 179, snuggly inbetween Sri Lanka and Kazakhstan. It is officially in the "red zone", together with China that is ranked 178. N-Korea is last. To put in context: HK was ranked 18, back in 2002.rsf.org/en/index

— lokman tsui (@lokman.org) 2025-05-02T06:57:31.409Z

HKFP is among the many media organizations facing the economic pressures highlighted by RSF:

HKFP has weathered threats, harassment, scrutiny from multiple government departments over the past year, but now facing a funding crunch. In full: buff.ly/ZxXDaLL

— Hong Kong Free Press HKFP (@hongkongfp.com) 2025-05-02T23:01:04.657Z

RSF’s Asia-Pacific advocacy manager Aleksandra Bielakowska highlighted how foreign media’s ability to operate in China has become severely limited, especially in borderland regions of Tibet and Xinjiang. She described it as “[n]ot just an authoritarian country, but a really totalitarian system where nobody can speak up, nobody can report on any issues.” “The difficulty is always safety as an exile media. Everybody is so afraid to talk with us and work with us,” said Shirley Leung Ka Lai, editor-in-chief of Photon Media from Hong Kong. She added that working anonymously creates obstacles for connecting with sources who are often reluctant to trust calls from unknown foreign numbers.

In a statement on Friday, The Foreign Correspondents’ Club (FCC) of Hong Kong reaffirmed its support to journalists and stated that the day serves as a reminder to the city’s officials to respect their stated commitments regarding press freedom. Last month, the FCC released its Press Freedom Survey for 2025, which revealed a significant deterioration of working conditions for journalists in Hong Kong.

Of the 69 respondents, 43 (62%) said that their working environment as a journalist in Hong Kong had changed for the worse since July 2023, the time of the last press freedom survey. The National Security Law, its related trials, and the perceived exodus of international news organisations were mentioned as reasons for the change.

Respondents also noted that their sources have become more concerned about sharing their own opinions, with 44 (64%) saying that their sources are less willing to be quoted or discuss sensitive subjects.

Journalists are cautious about their own writing as well, with 45 (65%) saying they had self-censored in the last 18 months, and 12 (18%) saying they had self-censored “considerably”.

Ten respondents (16%) reported facing minor interference in their reporting, and one noted significant interference.

The perception of the media environment is also noteworthy, with four people (6%) saying they are “very concerned,” and 36 people (52%) being “slightly concerned” about the possibility of arrest or prosecution over their reporting or opinion articles or work they have edited. [Source]

For more on this topic, see CDT’s past coverage of press freedom in China and Hong Kong, including last year’s annual report of the Foreign Correspondents’ Club of China, which showed a similar picture of surveillance, obstruction, and intimidation of journalists.

大年夜，办公室, by Bohan伯韩 Shen沈 (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

Over the past 100 years, the most important achievement of theoretical innovation and practical development of the Party’s labour movement cause has been the formation of the trade union development path with Chinese socialist characteristics. This path adheres to the Party’s comprehensive leadership over the labour movement cause and trade union work, ensuring that the labour movement always advances in the correct direction.

[…] Trade unions at all levels must fully implement the decisions and arrangements of the Party Central Committee, promote the high-quality development of trade union work, and write a more magnificent chapter of our country’s labour movement cause in the new era.

We must adhere to the correct political direction and unite the broad masses of workers and labourers closely around the Party. We must resolutely uphold the authority and centralised unified leadership of the Party Central Committee, and implement the Party’s leadership throughout the process and in all aspects of trade union work. Persist in using the Thought on Socialism with Chinese Characteristics for a New Era to arm minds, guide practice, and promote work; resolutely shoulder the political responsibility of leading the workers and labourers to listen to the Party and obey the Party… [Source]

Some Chinese state-media reports unintentionally revealed the tension between the government and the people over what constitutes fair labor practices. One example, described by China Media Project (CMP), involved the aftermath of a heroic rescue of a child stuck in a narrow well by Bupatam Abdukader, a 24-year-old female auxiliary police officer in Xinjiang. As the story went viral online, many netizens wondered why she had been working in an informal role with pay and benefits that lagged behind her formally employed counterparts. This public pressure led Xinjiang authorities to give her a promotion, but only within the confines of her auxiliary status. This in turn led to more public pressure and forced the authorities to make an announcement—praised by CCTV and a Xinhua-run official journal—advocating the importance of following strict procedures of career advancement. CMP summarized the situation as such:

At its core, Bupatam’s story is about a gap in visions of what heroism means, and how it should be rewarded. While public sentiment called for the officer’s brave human acts to be rewarded with real and tangible benefits, and the dignity that comes with truly equal status, the authorities managed to contain her within the Party’s limited vision of heroism. In that vision, the hero’s extraordinary sacrifice works only to serve and preserve the system — even if that system is premised on the most ordinary perpetuation of inequalities. [Source]

In other cases of divergent visions of ideal labor conditions, netizens directed their criticism directly at the media. This was seen in reactions to a viral Weibo topic, covered favorably by state-aligned media, about a construction worker who had ostensibly saved two million yuan over nine years by carrying bricks on his back. In one WeChat article commenting on the story last week, author Song Qingren wrote skeptically about state media’s propagandistic glorification of such low-paid and physically gruelling work, and noted that only a few carefully selected comments with scant likes appeared under the high-engagement post: “Propaganda is very inspiring, sure, but will people actually buy into it? No, not only will people disbelieve such content, they will sigh in frustration and proceed to ridicule and mock it. And the more the media publishes such content, the lower they will fall in the public’s estimation, the more they will be despised.” Another WeChat article, by Unyielding Bamboo, excoriated media coverage that purports to be encouraging but in fact treats workers as little more than beasts of burden to be exploited:

The media, rather than doing what they ought to be doing—that is, exposing and reporting on serious issues—are instead encouraging people to sacrifice their health and well-being in pursuit of profit. Rather than tell the truth, they fritter away their time penning fictitious scripts; rather than bring problems to light, they focus on manufacturing delusions. I simply cannot comprehend such misplaced priorities. [Chinese]

Avenues for successfully pushing back against poor labor conditions are limited. As China Labor Watch has argued, workers in China “are routinely denied their fundamental right to strike and to both form and join unions of their choice and take part in relevant activities.” Those that attempt to strike are often met with violence. In April, police reportedly beat some of the hundreds of female workers at Hubei’s Chenlong Electronics who went on strike to protest six months of unpaid wages and two years of missing social security contributions. Nonetheless, China Labour Bulletin has documented at least 573 strikes across the country since the start of 2025, almost identical to the number of strikes in the same period from last year.

Perhaps in reaction to public pressure, some companies have enacted policies encouraging employees to work less, such as mandatory clock-off times and bans on after-hours meetings, according to Reuters. A Beijing law firm was also given a rare fine in March for failing to take corrective measures after illegally extending staff working hours. But as The Economist reported last month, this new phenomenon of limiting working hours might also be motivated more by the state’s economic self-interest than by a concern for labor rights:

These new policies align with two of the Chinese state’s current priorities. One is to try to curb a phenomenon known as neijuan—often translated as “involution”. People use the term to describe a situation in which extra input no longer yields more output, like running to stand still. The government wants to prevent this intense, self-harming competition. Perhaps not surprisingly, the new policy has met plenty of cynicism from involuted workers. One newspaper summarised their online snark with the question: “Are the companies that long enforced brutal overtime now going to lead the fight against involution?” Some point to Europe’s new ban on products made with forced labour, including “excessive overtime”, as the motivation for export companies to take action.

The second priority is to give people more time off in order to help bring about the much-needed switch in the economy away from exports and infrastructure towards consumption. In March the government presented a new “special action plan” to increase domestic demand, vowing to deal with “prominent pain points such as the prevalence of overtime culture”, and to protect “rest and vacation rights and interests”. It increased the number of public holidays this year by two days. Getting people to eat out and spend money is difficult if they are stuck at their desk. [Source]

Translations by Cindy Carter.

1. There can be no “national rejuvenation” without systemic political reform
2. The People do not want a political party with unchecked power.
3. China does not need someone to “point the way forward.” Democracy is the way forward. [Chinese]

The three banners hanging from a pedestrian overpass near Chengdu’s Chadianzi Bus Station. Local netizens confirmed the location of the photo, which is close to Chengdu’s Third Ring Road, based on the street layout and the illuminated signs visible in the background.

The date of the protest is significant because it was the anniversary of the April 15, 1989 death of former General Secretary Hu Yaobang—who for many symbolizes a more progressive, possibly even more democratic “path not taken.” (In the spring of 1989, mourning for Hu’s death coalesced into the massive protests that would later be crushed in the June 4 Tiananmen crackdown.) The language used in the slogans is quite measured, and references the CCP’s oft-lauded goal of “national rejuvenation.” Although Xi Jinping is not mentioned by name, the third slogan is a clear reference to the standard Party formulation of Xi Jinping “pointing the way forward” on various policy issues (at least 240, by one recent count).

Although such offline expressions of political dissent are rare in China, they are not without precedent. CDT Chinese editors have documented three other solitary protests that have occurred over the past three years. The Chengdu protest called to mind antecedents such as the January 2022 “Luohu Warrior” protest in Shenzhen. It also echoed the October 2022 Sitong Bridge banner protest in Beijing, in which solitary protester Peng Lifa displayed banners calling for more freedom, an end to pandemic lockdowns, and for work and academic strikes to topple Xi Jinping. The Chengdu protest also recalled the banner and loudspeaker slogans of Fang Yirong’s one-man protest on a pedestrian overpass in Xinhua county, Hunan province in July 2024.

The protester in Chengdu contacted several well-known whistleblower accounts on X—including Teacher Li (@whyyoutouzhele) and Yesterday (@YesterdayBigcat)—to amplify his message. He sent them his protest slogans, photos of the scene, and even a photo of his ID card, which revealed his identity as Mei Shilin, age 27, from Muchuan county in Sichuan province. Mei soon fell out of contact and his whereabouts are unknown; it is likely that he has been detained by public security officers. (Mei’s name and photo were only shared on social media after he had disappeared and after his identity had been revealed on YouTube.)

Content related to Mei’s protest has been thoroughly scrubbed from the Chinese internet, and CDT editors have noted that his name is now a sensitive word on numerous Chinese platforms and social media sites. Some Chinese netizens who learned of the protest via overseas sites voiced admiration for Mei’s bravery and expressed concern for his safety. A selection of Chinese-language comments from X about Mei’s bold protest have been translated below:

DEMAXIYA159: He’s a hero. It takes a lot of courage for an individual to do something this big. If every city had such a hero, the government would have to face up to its problems. If everyone had such courage, then dictatorship wouldn’t dare raise its head. Democracy means that everyone has the courage to raise their own voice.

President_JC23: Respect to that lone warrior. I hope he can stay safe.

wulijin11: Brave warrior, you did what I lacked the courage to do.

Running_Program: It takes a lot of courage to do this “within the wall.”

leaf_sen: It’s impossible to see this [news] in China because the internet is so completely controlled.

Mrdoorvpn: That brave warrior will definitely go down in history, whether you agree with him or not.

geleilaoshi: You are not alone!

rt_cou66416: Whoa, Peng Lifa has returned!

Fulefull: All of society is stagnant, but now and then, there’s a little spark.

wudiniu7764: The security guards in Chengdu are screwed. They’ll have to guard the bridges again. [Chinese]

Many observers and human rights groups are justifiably concerned for Mei Shilin’s safety. In a recent article titled “Another ‘Bridge Man’ in China Forcibly Disappeared,” Human Rights Watch China Researcher Yalkun Uluyol called on the Chinese authorities to immediately disclose Mei Shilin’s whereabouts. It remains unclear when and where Mei was detained, where he is currently being held, and whether he has access to legal representation. An update this week from Qian Lang, reporting for RFA Mandarin, discussed what steps the authorities might take next in a case that they almost certainly wish to suppress:

One of the two sources [familiar with the case], Qin from Chengdu, said if Mei was found by investigators to have overseas ties, he would be handed over to the State Security Bureau and transferred to the Municipal State Security Bureau Detention Center.

“If no substantial evidence of collusion with foreign forces is found, he will be handled by the Chengdu police,” added Qin, who wanted to be identified by a single name for safety reasons.

Legal experts believe authorities may charge Mei with “picking quarrels and provoking trouble” – a common criminal accusation in China that authorities level against political, civil, and human rights advocates.

“They (the prosecution) may file a case for the crime of picking quarrels and provoking trouble because they don’t want to give him a more glorious charge, such as inciting subversion of state power or subverting state power,” Lu Chenyuan, a legal expert in China, told RFA.

“They are now more inclined to depoliticize (the Mei Shilin case) and want to reduce its political significance,” added Lu. [Source]

The safety and whereabouts of many previous protesters remain unknown. In the case of the “Luohu Warrior,” even his real name is unknown to the public, and for over three years, there has been no official information about where he is being held or whether he has been or will be tried. The most widely known of the protesters is Peng Lifa, dubbed “Bridge Man” after the famous “Tank Man” of the 1989 Tiananmen Square demonstrations. Peng Lifa disappeared soon after his Sitong Bridge protest and has not been heard from since. Peng’s courageous lone protest—which in turn inspired the late 2022 “White Paper Protests” that led to the end of China’s pandemic lockdowns—continues to resonate with a new generation of Chinese citizens. Fang Yirong, the young man in Hunan who used a banner and a loudspeaker to make his political demands heard, has likewise not been heard from since his protest in July of 2024.

The US Empire’s confidence has three roots: the USD, its armed forces, and high technology.

Our confidence has three different roots: tree bark, wild herbs, and Guan Yin clay! [Chinese]

Tree bark, wild grass, and Guan Yin clay (so-called for its use in Buddhist figurines, and potentially fatal to ingest) were three things widely eaten to stave off hunger during China’s Great Famine, in which as many as tens of millions are estimated to have died.

State media have sought to paint a rosier picture of the trade war. A recent report from state broadcaster CCTV, for example, focused on a Zhejiang manufacturer of home appliances which said its overseas orders had actually increased slightly since it turned toward other markets in response to U.S. tariffs. CCTV plugged the story with the hashtags “#Number of overseas orders actually increased after loss of U.S. orders” and “#For Cixi Home Appliances, the East Brightens as the West Dims.”

The story became a “rollover scene” (翻车现场 fānchē xiànchǎng), attracting widespread attention and mockery. CDT Chinese editors compiled a number of reactions from Weibo and X, ranging from the apparently convinced to sarcastic endorsement to outright scorn. Several of the comments play on the tendency for state media to wring claims of victory for China out of any new development.

蔚蓝的白日梦： If we’re winning this much after losing the U.S. market, imagine how much we’d be winning if we lost all of them.

用户130000： Winning this much, and still filtering the comments … our country is modest indeed.

股海东方不败： The point of this news is to convince everyone that even though we’ve lost the American market, business just keeps getting better and better.

心向阳光-奔跑吧少年： China May Be The Biggest Winner

花衿茵梦： Orders drying up? Cixi Appliances says just change the packaging and sell, sell, sell!

长安静轩阁主： Out of respect, I’ll take your word for it. In the meantime, you do you.

财金条： Supplier defeats customer

崇正视角： The days when they could swindle the masses like a bunch of fools are long gone. Unfortunately our bureaucrats are still deluding themselves about their prowess.

zrw2017： Striking first brings swift victory; striking harder brings more wins. Apparently in this trade war they struck too softly, too late.

bodyno214755： Isolated examples can’t show the big picture. This is just a typical propaganda play.

Momo20240808： This is just one very specific, unrepresentative example. What are things like for the majority of businesses?

轻风细雨大叔新号： Looks like everything’s great—raising tariffs boosted exports. The more sanctions, the better!

五更不惑： Looks like it’s a good thing, so let’s have more of the same!

W因紫而来： Whatever you do, don’t tell Trump about this—he’d blow his top.

OL1EiqcQJpZL9nr： Actually this isn’t impossible. According to the article, they relaxed the minimum orders, i.e. they started accepting smaller orders, and lowered the required quantities. The claim is that the number of orders increased, but it didn’t say anything about profits. If a factory does smaller production runs, then unit costs will go up. It’s obvious whether this is a good thing or not.

冲浪冠军很多年： I haven’t seen a single news report so far describing adverse effects from the trade war on domestic businesses.

jenner70873905： "A bit more suffering for the masses"—Ming Dynasty 1566 [A historical TV drama: "During the Ming dynasty, as economic prosperity masked social unrest, the corrupt official Yan Song’s oppressive policies spark a power struggle and intrigue within the imperial court."] [Chinese]

As marriage registrations in China continued to decline in the first quarter of the year, local governments have dangled cash rewards as high as 40,000 yuan (US$5,487) in front of young couples in a bid to rekindle the will to wed and stave off the worst of a demographic crisis.

In the first three months of 2025, 1.81 million couples registered for marriage, the Ministry of Civil Affairs said last week. This represents a decrease of 159,000 couples compared to the same period last year for an 8 per cent drop, with a simultaneous 10 per cent increase in the number of divorce registrations.

[...] Last year, China recorded the lowest number of new marriages since 1980; only 6.10 million couples in China tied the knot in 2024, down 20.5 per cent from 2023, according to the ministry. [Source]

Earlier this month, the government announced a revision to the marriage registration ordinance, the first since its enactment in 2003, that will reduce paperwork and give couples more flexibility to choose where to register their marriage, including in locations beyond their places of permanent residence. Last week, The Economist described how Hohhot and other cities have offered child-care subsidies as part of their pro-natalist push, but that these have been received without much enthusiasm:

In Hohhot, however, the uptake so far appears weak. On March 13th, with fanfare in national media, the city announced one of the biggest cash-for-kids schemes in the country. Mothers will now be paid 10,000 yuan for a first child, 50,000 yuan over five years for a second and 100,000 yuan over ten years for a third. That third-child reward is double the city’s average annual salary. But Hohhot is not offering much beyond the cash payments, and at one local office that processes subsidy registrations an employee said that they have received only seven or eight inquiries in the month since the policy announcement.

Ms Liu at the baby store, who is 35 and has one child, said she would like to have a second if she had more money, but the new incentives do not offset the lack of child-care support and the high costs of raising children in a competitive environment. “The policy might change the minds of people on the fence about having kids, but people like me won’t consider it,” she says.

For Ms Wu, a 29-year-old civil servant about to give birth to her first child, the 10,000 yuan “adds flowers to the brocade” and could help with her mortgage or car loan, but “50,000 yuan is not going to cover the costs of a second child”. It costs high-income families 1.3m yuan to raise a child to adulthood, estimates YuWa Population Research Institute, a think-tank in Beijing. The figure is more like 130,000 yuan for low-income families. Wang Feng of the University of California, Irvine, thinks Hohhot’s policy will not “make a dent” in the city’s population decline. “Babies cannot be bought,” he says. “The cost is lifelong and it’s not just monetary.” [Source]

Many Chinese women have balked at government plans to raise the birth rate. Even Xinhua shared a comment last week by one Weibo user who wrote, “If I were married, there’s no way I’d enjoy the kind of freedom I have now,” and another who wrote, “If I can’t find the right person, I’d rather stay single than settle.” One major impediment is that the government has also made it harder for couples to divorce. This was one of the main points made by behavioral economist Jia Yongmin, who recently published an opinion piece in Fengsheng OPINION discussing why China’s recent pro-matrimony policies are failing to persuade young people to get married:

In fact, increasing impediments to divorce have had a dissuasive effect on marriage. "Marriage is like a fortress besieged: those who are outside want to get in, and those who are inside want to get out." The preceding quote comes from Qian Zhongshu’s [1947] masterpiece "Fortress Besieged." Although they are the words of a novelist, the theory behind them has been borne out by economic research.

A paper published by Hauert et al. in the journal Science proved that the freedom of participants to choose to withdraw is a necessary condition for the emergence and maintenance of cooperation. Marriage is undoubtedly a cooperative undertaking. Without the freedom to exit that "fortress besieged", there will surely be less incentive to enter it in the first place. [Chinese]

Highlighting another pro-natalist effort gone awry, women have reported receiving unsolicited WeChat messages from their local “family doctor,” apparently tasked with contacting women aged 14-49 in their district and asking them, “Has your period been normal recently? On what date did you last get your period? Please respond via text. Thank you!” According to screenshots of these messages on Chinese social media shared by Teacher Li, some netizens interpreted this as a call to have children. The incident is similar to reports from last fall that netizens had received calls from local government authorities asking, “Are you pregnant? Do you plan to be? Do you have a boyfriend?”

More promising approaches might be found elsewhere. Elsie Chen at the AP reported on Tuesday about how young Chinese singles are looking for love in video chats:

Frustrated with traditional dating and using the apps, Chen jumped on a new trend among young, single people in China. Those looking for love go into video chatrooms hosted by what’s called a “cyber matchmaker,” all while thousands of viewers watch and comment in real time.

The number of single people in China over 15 reached a record-high of 240 million in 2023, according to government data. Facing a plummeting birth rate and an aging population, the government encouraged single people to marry and have multiple children. Last year, the State Council, China’s cabinet, mandated that local governments build various platforms for youth to have more opportunities to date.

[...] For those who want to get married though, the livestreamed videos are an appealing alternative to traditional matchmaking methods, like marriage markets — where families exchange resumes and arrange dates for their unmarried children.

They’re also another option for those tired of dating apps. [Source]

As part of the investigation, ICIJ coordinated reporters across five continents to interview targets and analyze their cases. ICIJ also reviewed a 2004 Chinese police textbook and confidential guidelines for domestic security officers dating to 2013. The reporters then compared the tactics described in the internal documents with the experiences of the 105 targets, as well as with secretly recorded police interrogations, and phone calls and text messages between 11 security officers in China and nine targets overseas. The comparison shows the tactics recently deployed against the subjects mirrored the guidelines on how to control individuals labeled as domestic security threats.

Half of the targets interviewed by ICIJ and its media partners said the harassment extended to family members back home, who suffered intimidation and were interrogated by police or state security officials one or more times. Several victims told ICIJ that their family members in China or Hong Kong were harassed by police shortly after they had participated in protests or public events overseas. Sixty said they believed they had been followed or were targets of surveillance or spying by Chinese officials or their proxies; 27 said they were victims of an online smear campaign, and 19 said they had received suspicious messages or experienced hacking attempts, including by state actors. Some said their bank accounts in China and Hong Kong had been frozen. Officers from both the Ministry of Public Security and the Ministry of State Security — two of the Chinese agencies with intelligence capacity — were responsible for intimidating some of the targets and their families, the testimonies show. Twenty-two people said they received physical threats or had been assaulted by civilian CCP supporters.

Most of those interviewed by ICIJ and its partners said they had not reported state-sponsored threats to the authorities in their adopted countries, explaining that they feared retaliation from China or didn’t have faith in authorities’ ability to help. Of those who had filed a report, several said police did not follow up on their case or told them that they couldn’t do anything because there was no evidence of a crime. [Source]

The ICIJ investigation described the phenomenon of Beijing-backed “GONGOs” (government-organized non-governmental organizations) that monitor and intimidate human rights activists critical of the Chinese government. During China’s Universal Periodic Review (UPR) session at the U.N. Human Rights Council last year, CDT reported that the number of China-based “civil society” organizations listed in China’s UPR summary report nearly tripled over the course of two UPR cycles from 2013 to 2024, which may have dampened criticism of China’s human rights record. At The Washington Post, reporting in partnership with ICIJ, Greg Miller, Jelena Ćosić, and Tamsin Lee-Smith described the scale of Chinese NGOs at the U.N. that have hidden ties to the CCP:

The ICIJ investigation identified 106 NGOs that have received U.N. accreditation and are registered in or affiliated with China. At least 59 appear to violate U.N. rules meant to ensure that NGOs testifying in Geneva aren’t doing so under government influence or pressure.

More than 50 of the 106 NGOs included language in charter documents pledging loyalty to the CCP, with some acknowledging that they defer to the party on decisions of hiring and funding, the investigation found. Forty-six listed directors or others in leadership roles who simultaneously held positions in Chinese state agencies or the CCP. Records show that at least 10 received the bulk of their funding from Chinese government sources.

[…] The number of Chinese organizations with U.N. credentials has nearly doubled since 2018, the year of the initial U.N. report on Xinjiang. Many of these organizations were formed at least a decade ago but only sought NGO accreditation after 2018. The surge reflects an effort that has been backed by Chinese President Xi Jinping and involves nearly every level of government in China.

[…] Last year, 33 Chinese NGOs made nearly 300 appearances at Human Rights Council sessions, according to data gathered by the International Service for Human Rights (ISHR), an independent nonprofit group. An examination of their statements and testimony found not a single instance in which any had uttered words that could be construed as critical of China. [Source]

Ethnic minority groups are often targets of Beijing’s transnational repression, as the ICIJ highlighted. Alongside the investigation is a report by Citizen Lab detailing how Uyghur-language software was hijacked to deliver malware that was extremely well customized to reach the target population of Uyghurs in exile. The report states that the cyberattack replicates a pattern of Chinese-government-aligned threat actors digitally targeting marginalized communities. Earlier this month, CDT documented other reports on the expansion of China’s digital repression of Tibetans, including those in diaspora, via a Chinese state-owned digital forensics firm that provides offensive cyber-operations training for Lhasa’s Tibet Police College. The Guardian, another ICIJ partner, recently uncovered an online campaign of transnational repression against Hongkongers in the U.K. The campaign included 29 accounts that published over 150 posts last August doxxing Hongkongers and exhibiting similarities to other online influence operations by a Chinese security agency. ICIJ partners provided other local case studies, as well.

Another focus of the ICIJ investigation was the Chinese Party-state’s attempts to instrumentalize Interpol. The Chinese government has increasingly used Interpol red notices to target a wide range of its citizens abroad, and China “does not appear to be among the countries currently subject to Interpol corrected measures for alleged misuse of the organization’s system,” the ICIJ wrote. Along with other ICIJ partners, Simon Leplâtre at Le Monde described how Interpol is used as a tool in China’s arsenal of transnational repression, using the story of Huang Youlong (referred to as "H."), a close confidant of Jack Ma:

Like H., hundreds of individuals whom China considers to be persons of interest have been targeted by abusive red notices. In collaboration with 42 media outlets and the International Consortium of Investigative Journalists (ICIJ), Le Monde investigated several cases that illustrate China’s use of Interpol and the lack of safeguards within the institution. Despite attempts to reform it, Interpol, based in the French city of Lyon, still lacks transparency in its procedures and never publicly holds countries that abuse it accountable – a boon for authoritarian regimes.

Our investigation shows that Interpol is one of the components of China’s arsenal of repressive measures used against its targets abroad, whether they are political dissidents, members of minorities that are oppressed in China – such as Uyghurs or Tibetans – businesspeople and political leaders, either corrupt or the victims of purges.

[…] Ted Bromund, a researcher and expert witness in legal cases involving Interpol procedures, explained that "Interpol is a tool. So is sending text messages to people. So is stalking them physically. So is revoking their passports. (…) By itself, it’s not generally particularly effective with China. But the way I like to put it with the Chinese is that Interpol is like a pin through a butterfly in an insect collection. It holds someone down, locks them in place so they can’t get away. And then it’s much easier to apply all of these other tools because you’ve got someone located." [Source]

Responding to the ICIJ investigation on Bluesky, Jeremy Daum at China Law Translate shared a thread urging caution with the terminology and framing of the term “transnational repression” when contemplating appropriate responses to the phenomenon:

🧵Happy to see continued attention on the ways that China harasses and surveils abroad– hard to find the bandwidth today, but it remains a real issue that impacts people's lives.A few thoughts that I've raised elsewhere on how best to think about it and address it: www.icij.org/investigatio…

— China Law Translate / Jeremy Daum (@chinalawtranslate.bsky.social) 2025-04-29T14:53:30.795Z