Two days before we left US Embassy Beijing in 2001, a friend from Wenzhou invited me to a dinner with leaders of the Wenzhou community in Beijing. It was especially interesting since Wenzhou has been one of China’s prime centers of entrepreneurship and for the stories I heard about how hard it was for members of the Wenzhou business community to get a Beijing hukou. The visit was fascinating, I didn’t report on it for the Embassy because I was already about out the door.
Hukou (Chinese: 户口; lit. ‘household individual’; IPA: [xû.kʰòʊ̯]) is a system of household registration used in the People’s Republic of China. The system itself is more properly called huji (Chinese: 户籍; lit. ‘household origin’; IPA: [xû.t͡ɕǐ]), and has origins in ancient China; hukou is the registration of an individual in the system.[a] A household registration record officially identifies a person as a permanent resident of an area and includes identifying information such as name, parents, spouse and date of birth. A hukou can also refer to a family register in many contexts since the household register (simplified Chinese: 户口簿; traditional Chinese: 戶口簿; pinyin: hùkǒu bù) is issued per family, and usually includes the births, deaths, marriages, divorces, and moves, of all members in the family. …
In the modern era, the hukou system functions as an administrative tool to address challenges of rapid urbanisation, primarily through population management and controlled migration to megacities and large urban centers. A central rationale of such policies, particularly in first tier-cities, has been to prevent severe overcrowding, infrastructure overload, and the emergence of large-scale slums during China’s rapid industrialization and urbanization phases. Shahid Yusuf, a Senior Adviser in the World Bank’s Development Research Group noted that the hukou system served as a “cornerstone of China’s urbanization strategy” by controlling migration and channeling migrants toward small or medium-sized cities rather than allowing unchecked inflows to the largest urban areas. He described China’s ability to achieve rapid urbanization while largely avoiding widespread slum formation as one of its “greatest successes” in managing its urbanisation pathway, stating: “One of China’s greatest successes in its rapid urbanization has been that it has managed to contain the process to the extent that there are crowded living conditions but very few slums. This is an important achievement for a developing country.”[7]
However, there is ongoing debate regarding the future role of the system, and in recent years China has created reforms whose aim is to gradually relax hukou restrictions.[7][8][9] Due to its connection to social programs provided by the government, which assigns benefits based on agricultural and non-agricultural residency status (often referred to as rural and urban), the hukou system is sometimes likened to a form of caste system.[10][11][12] It has been the source of much inequality over the decades since the establishment of the People’s Republic of China in 1949, as urban residents received benefits that ranged from retirement pension to education to health care, while rural citizens were often left to fend for themselves.[13][14][15] Since 1978, the central government has undertaken reforms of the system in response to protests and a changing economic system.[15][16][17]
Internal Migration Controls and Residence Permission in China’s Big Cities
Although there is a lot of information about rural versus urban hukou, I haven’t seen much about the barriers to inter-city hukou transfers. Local benefits can mean a lot to residents, including preferential treatment for admission to “national universities” like Peking University, which Beijing hukou students enjoy. Talking with members of the Wenzhou, Zhejiang community that evening, I got the impression that people had visas for working in Beijing with a definite expiration date. These quasi-embassies, or representative offices of provinces and some big cities in Beijing, reinforced that impression. Near these offices, you can see cars with out-of-province plates — the quasi-embassy personnel keep their out-of-province plates.
Chinese cities are often reluctant to grant migrants full residence rights because providing education, healthcare, and other services is expensive. The strict restrictions from the first decades of the PRC are gone. Now, cities don’t mind benefiting from a cheap labor force. However, cities generally don’t want to shoulder the significant expense of providing these services. They see exhortations from Beijing to do so as just another unfunded mandate.
Nonetheless, people are moving to the cities to escape the limitations of village life, especially unemployment, underemployment and lack of educational opportunities.
When on a China trip with the US State Department Science Advisor delegation in 2005, we visited the Shanghai Municipal government. When I noticed the Shanghai Municipality population figure was about three million too low, I asked why. The official explained “We don’t count migrant workers.” So-called migrants stay in the city for many years without getting official residence permission — their children sometimes cannot go to local schools. Fan Yusu 2017 autobiographical essay on the life of a migrant worker made a sensation in China. Translated at 2017: A Chinese Migrant Worker’s Story: “I Am Fan Yusu” 《我是范雨素》英文翻译
Other countries have effective constraints on mobility although they are often economic rather than legal ones. In the USA for example the cost of housing is a big effective constraint on moving from the countryside to the big city. See response and references I got from ChatGPT LLM search engine on the US internal migration situation. In the US both geographical and social mobility have been steadily declining in recent decades.
These hukou restrictions on moving into a big city for people from lesser urban agglomerations, I gather, are not national policy but are crafted by the authorities of the bigger cities. So talking about moves between big cities in general is difficult — they all make their own policies.
Anyhow, I was curious and so I queried my ChatGPT Large Language Model about this in Chinese. It came up with info and relevant links that helped me understand the current state of play.
I don’t suppose the restrictions on moving to bigger cities are as significant for people from other cities who already have urban hukou. Nevertheless, people in medium and small cities make up a large portion of China’s population and are likely much better educated on average than people in rural areas. Therefore, these household registration transfer restrictions may still be a significant barrier to talent. As China’s population gradually declines, pressure to relax these constraints on talent development may become more urgent.
The usual requirement that a person moving into an urban hukou can give people pause who worry about giving up their collective property right to land in their rural home area — having land back home can be a kind of insurance policy if things don’t work out in the city. Wuhan recently has become more flexible in that regard according to a recent report. 2025年新规：四类人员可回村分地、建房，户口迁出不再受限
I wonder too about the restrictions that China’s biggest cities impose on transfer of a person’s residential hukou. What about someone moving from big city A to big city B — say from Shanghai to Beijing? See further down below my query #2 and the response I got with references.
I made my ChatGPT LLM query in Chinese 擁有城市戶口的中國人是否可以搬家到任何另外一個中國城市或者擁有某一個城市的城市戶口會限制他們搬到另外一個城市？
[in barbarian speech, Can Chinese citizens with urban household registration move to any other city in China, or does having urban household registration in one city restrict their ability to move to another?]
Summary: Each Big Chinese City Sets in Own Migration Policy: It varies from place to place. The response was about what I expected, interesting to get an update. Including people from other cities and the countryside in the local population has financial consequences for hard-pressed local governments; they probably see pressure from the Center to do so as just another unfunded mandate to be dodged as much as possible. There is the Chinese saying: For every measure that comes down from on high, a countermeasure is devised down below. 上有政策，下有對策。Shàng yǒu zhèngcè, xià yǒu duìcè.
ChatGPT LLM response:
They can move to another city to live or work, but that does not mean they can freely transfer their household registration (hukou) to any city they want.
In China, this really has to be understood as two separate issues.
First, physical mobility itself. Chinese citizens can of course move to another city to rent, buy housing, work, and reside there long term. Having an urban hukou in one city does not legally “tie” them to that city so that they cannot move elsewhere. Recent reforms have generally moved in the direction of making population mobility easier, promoting hukou registration based on one’s place of actual residence, and making hukou transfers and government services more convenient.(mee.gov.cn)
Second, whether the hukou itself can move with them. That is not something a person can do automatically just because they want to. It depends on the settlement policy of the destination city. The general national policy in recent years has been:
Cities with fewer than 3 million permanent urban residents: hukou restrictions are basically abolished.
Cities with 3 to 5 million residents: settlement requirements are broadly relaxed.
Mega-cities and very large cities with more than 5 million residents: these usually still use points-based settlement systems and do not allow everyone to obtain local hukou directly.(mee.gov.cn)
So, to answer your question:
1. Having hukou in one city does not prohibit someone from moving to live in another city. They can go live and work elsewhere. The main restriction is not on whether they can move, but on whether they can formally transfer their hukou into the new city.(ndrc.gov.cn)
2. Having urban hukou in one city can still affect what benefits they can access in another city until they successfully obtain local hukou there. Before transferring hukou, they are usually treated as non-local permanent residents or as residents holding a residence permit. The state has pushed for more basic public services to be available where people actually live, but many local benefits and qualifications still depend on local hukou or on specific local policies.(mee.gov.cn)
3. What really constrains people is the policy of the city they want to move into, not the fact that they already hold urban hukou somewhere else. In practice, eligibility usually depends on whether they meet local requirements involving stable employment, stable housing (including rental housing), length of residence, social insurance contributions, points accumulation, and similar conditions. The biggest cities generally have stricter requirements.(mps.gov.cn)
In one sentence:
Having an urban hukou in China does not stop someone from moving to another city to live there, but it does affect whether they can formally transfer their hukou to that new city. Whether they can do so depends mainly on the destination city’s settlement rules, and the largest cities still maintain significant restrictions.(mee.gov.cn)
Can Chinese citizens with urban household registration move from one major city to another, such as from Shanghai to Beijing? Does urban household registration restrict their ability to move to another major city? What household registration restrictions do people face when relocating from Shanghai to Beijing? Are there national regulations governing the relocation of people from one megacity to another, or do major cities like Beijing and Shanghai formulate and enforce their own local policies? Do local fiscal issues play a significant role in policies regarding relocation from one major city to another?
Summary: What aboutMoving from one big city to another such as a Shanghai to Beijing move?
— No national rules, each big city decides, coming from another big city doesn’t give you an advantage.
I asked the ChatGPT for more details and references.
Yes, they can move, but having an urban hukou in Shanghai does not mean they can automatically transfer that hukou to Beijing. In China, in practice, two things have to be distinguished: first, residential mobility, meaning that a person moves to Beijing for work, rents or buys housing there, and lives there; second, hukou transfer/household registration settlement, meaning transferring one’s permanent household registration from Shanghai into Beijing. The former is generally possible. The latter requires satisfying Beijing’s own local settlement criteria. In recent years, the national direction of reform has been to relax settlement restrictions in most cities and make migration procedures more convenient, but for very large and mega-cities with more than 5 million permanent urban residents, the central government has continued to allow stricter settlement thresholds, mainly through “improving the points-based settlement system” and letting localities formulate specific rules. It has never established a rule that “a hukou from one mega-city can be freely transferred into another mega-city.”
Using your example, for someone moving from Shanghai to Beijing, the main constraint is not that “you originally have a Shanghai hukou,” but rather whether you meet Beijing’s admission criteria. Under Beijing’s current points-based settlement system, the basic eligibility conditions include holding a Beijing residence permit, being below the statutory retirement age, and having continuously paid social insurance in Beijing for at least seven years. After that, points are awarded for such factors as stable legal employment, stable legal housing, educational attainment, place of work and residence, innovation and entrepreneurship, tax payments, age, honors and awards, and compliance with the law. Only those who reach that year’s cutoff score qualify for settlement. In other words, a Shanghai hukou holder who relocates to Beijing would generally still have to spend time in Beijing first as a non-Beijing hukou resident, accumulating residence, employment, and social insurance records in Beijing, and then apply through Beijing’s own settlement channels rather than simply “carrying over” a Shanghai hukou.
Shanghai itself follows the same logic: it does not automatically relax settlement rules just because an applicant already comes from another big city. Instead, it mainly relies on its own local systems to determine who can obtain local household registration. Officially, Shanghai permanent hukou is still obtained mainly through local policy channels such as conversion from residence permit to hukou and talent-introduction programs. Under Shanghai’s current “residence permit to hukou” route, common baseline requirements still include holding a Shanghai Residence Permit for seven years, paying employee social insurance in Shanghai for seven years, paying taxes lawfully, and satisfying professional title, vocational qualification, or equivalent substitute conditions. Some key districts, key industries, and high-level talent may qualify for shortened time requirements or preferential treatment. In other words, moving from Shanghai to Beijing and moving from elsewhere to Beijing are not fundamentally different in institutional structure: the decisive question is whether Beijing accepts you, not whether Shanghai is willing to “release” you.
So when you ask whether there is any nationwide rule specifically governing migration from one mega-city to another, the more precise answer is: there are national principles, but there is no single nationwide right of cross–mega-city hukou transfer. At the national level, what exists is a general framework: the state requires mega-cities and very large cities to improve their points-based settlement systems, with years of social insurance contributions and residence as the main point factors; but each city is to formulate its own concrete implementation rules in light of local conditions. Even the 2024 five-year urbanization action plan said, with respect to mega-cities and very large cities, that they should “improve points-based settlement policies and be encouraged to remove annual settlement quotas,” but this still means that each city makes its own detailed rules. It does not mean the central government has created a single uniform system for Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou, and Shenzhen.
As for whether large cities such as Beijing and Shanghai formulate and enforce their own local policies, the answer is yes—and that is in fact the core of the current system. Beijing’s points-based settlement rules and annual application notices are specifically organized and implemented by the Beijing municipal government and departments such as human resources and social security. Shanghai’s residence permit, residence-permit-to-hukou pathway, talent-introduction system, and related arrangements are likewise formulated and enforced by Shanghai itself. The state provides the framework and outer boundaries; what actually determines whether an applicant can obtain local hukou is the policy of the destination city.
You also asked whether local fiscal issues matter. The answer is: very much so, though they are not the only factor. In official language, settlement policy in mega-cities and very large cities is often linked to “urban comprehensive carrying capacity,” “public service provision,” and “population size control.” Ministry of Finance and State Council documents on the urbanization of rural-to-urban migrants explicitly acknowledge that when people obtain local hukou, local governments face higher costs for compulsory education, medical insurance, pensions, employment services, affordable housing, and other public services. For this reason, the central government has set up special fiscal reward funds to support the urbanization of migrant populations and has established mechanisms linking population inflows to land and fiscal support. The National Development and Reform Commission in 2024 again stated that the central government has cumulatively allocated substantial funds for this purpose, and that both construction land quotas and fiscal support are tied to the number of people a locality absorbs and settles.
At the same time, in cities like Beijing and Shanghai, fiscal considerations are not the only factor and may not even be the single most immediate one. Official documents suggest that they are usually bundled together with factors such as the city’s functional position, population control objectives, the carrying capacity of schools, hospitals, and transport systems, industrial structure, talent policy, and spatial planning. For example, Shanghai’s official explanations of its residence permit and points systems make clear that their design is shaped by national policy requirements, the city’s overall carrying capacity, the need to coordinate population size with economic and social development, and the goal of providing graduated public services to people with long-term lawful and stable employment and residence. In other words, fiscal pressure is an important background variable, but in mega-city policy it usually operates together with broader concerns about carrying capacity, population management, and public service provision.
Put more plainly: a person with a Shanghai hukou can certainly go live and work in Beijing; but if they want to transfer their hukou as well, they generally must first become a long-term, stable Beijing resident who qualifies under Beijing’s own points-based or talent-introduction rules. There is no nationwide rule saying “because you are already a Shanghai resident, Beijing must make it easier for you,” nor is there any nationwide command saying “hukou may never be transferred from one mega-city to another.” In practice, the system works like this: the central government sets the framework; cities such as Beijing and Shanghai set the thresholds.
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References for Query #1
The ChatGPT LLM came up with many links to government documents and media reports relating to hukou. You pull them up at ‘sources’ at the end of the Chinese language response. If you are not sino-literate, you could dive into the links using a translation tool like DeepL or Google Translate.
Comparing something as subjective as happiness especially across regions and countries is one of the most hazardous of endeavors. Some do it anyways. People may be more or less satisfied compared to how well other people they know about are doing. The evenness of income distribution, access to education, housing, employment and health care may also affect subjective happiness.
Some LLM search engines turned up lots of Chinese scholarly and media related articles:
A more workable concept is life satisfaction in the context of how other people in society are doing, compared with one’s own personal history. Gallup bravely assigns points to happiness scores, stating, for example, that “the happiness of people under 25 years of age has fallen by an average of 0.86 points on a 0-to-10 scale in the past 20 years.” This reflects a breathtakingly great confidence in accuracy of results and consistency of study results over the years. I wonder about the margin of error in these studies. Or even comparability in something so subjective. Perhaps this is a problem of presentation of results rather than the underlying social science.
Despite its limitations, asking questions about ‘happiness’ what ever that means can be fruitful. It can lead to an examination of important societal problems and reflections on how they might be addressed.
Governments and policymakers try to track satisfaction and determine which factors affect overall satisfaction to a greater or lesser degree. This is most evident in countries that are more or less democracies.
Even dictatorships, including those based on the Leninist model, can be concerned with overall satisfaction, as it affects their country’s social and political stability.
I got curious about the Chinese perspective. For the Chinese Communist Party, maintaining “social stability” is job number one, as the Party strives to provide a favorable environment for the country as it leads it toward the Great Renaissance of the Chinese Nation. How do Chinese scholars and journalists view the “happiness” issue in China, and how does their view differ across geographical, urban-rural, party affiliation, and other dimensions?
I put the question to ChatGPT in Chinese since I seem to dredge up better responses that way.
The link to my original query, responses and sources are online. The links to online Chinese sources are in the online text and collected in ‘sources’ at the end of each response. The first response came up with 304 sources — here are the first few. They cover a wide range, some going into ideological work in the countryside. Looking over several and more titles, there didn’t seem to be any as brave in going into ranking and assigning numerical scores as in the Gallup study.
If you are sino-literate you’ll want to look into the sources and form your own views. I find ChatGPT most valuable to me for its strengths as a search engine. The narratives are usually reliable, but always good to check the sources.
[English translation of my query to ChatGPT: Which regions in China are the happiest? Which are the least happy? Are people happier in cities or in rural areas? Does social class play a role? What about Party members versus non-Party members? How do social scientists measure “happiness”? Are there any Chinese scholars or media outlets discussing this topic online?]
1) Response on happiness in China: provinces, urban/rural, class, Party membership, methods, and Chinese discussion
Yes—but first, the bottom line: China does not have a single, authoritative, unified, long-running “provincial happiness ranking.” In academic research, what is more commonly studied is subjective well-being / life satisfaction. Researchers usually use national survey data and regression analysis to identify regional differences, urban-rural differences, class differences, and differences by CCP membership, rather than simply ranking all 31 provinces from “happiest” to “least happy.” The existing evidence more strongly supports a few broad patterns: the eastern region is generally higher than the central and western regions; some coastal, riverine, provincial-capital, and population-inflow cities perform better; there is no absolute consensus on urban-rural differences; people in higher social strata, with better health and marital status, are usually happier; and CCP members, on average, often score slightly higher than non-members.
I. Which provinces or places are “happier”? Which are less happy?
If we go by the types of publicly visible results that are often cited in recent years—such as “urban happiness index” or “China’s happiest cities”—the better-performing places are frequently concentrated in Zhejiang, Jiangsu, and Guangdong, along with cities such as Hangzhou, Shenzhen, Ningbo, Changsha, Xiamen, Nanjing, Fuzhou, Suzhou, Huzhou, Wenzhou, and Jinhua. Tsinghua’s 2022 “People’s City Happiness Index Research Report” also explicitly stated that cities with higher composite scores were mainly coastal, Yangtze-river, and provincial-capital cities, with many cities from Zhejiang, Guangdong, and Jiangsu ranked near the top.
But if you ask which is the “happiest province” or the “least happy province,” I would not recommend making an absolute claim, because most public studies do not produce a unified annual provincial ranking. A safer formulation is: the eastern region usually has the advantage, while some parts of central and western China tend to score lower. For example, research on rural residents has found that farmers in eastern China report significantly higher happiness than those in central and western China; and national studies of city happiness indices also find that high-scoring cities are mostly in the eastern coastal region and among provincial capitals. By contrast, the “least happy” is more often a matter of structural circumstances, not something that can be stably pinned to one province.
II. Are cities happier than the countryside?
Academic findings are not entirely consistent.
One earlier and influential line of research suggested that rural residents were not necessarily less happy than urban residents, and some studies even found that rural residents had stronger happiness than urban residents. A summary in the China Poverty Alleviation and Development Yearbook noted that the Analysis and Forecast on China’s Social Situation, 2005 found that nearly 80% of farmers felt happy, and that rural residents’ happiness exceeded that of urban residents; later studies, including work by Luo Chuliang and others, also confirmed this finding and explained it partly in terms of differences in income expectations.
But another body of more recent research, based on the 2014 China Labor-force Dynamics Survey (CLDS), concluded that urban residents as a whole score higher than rural residents, and that this difference mainly comes from differences in living standards, living environment, and pace of life. So today, the safest academic formulation is not “cities are definitely happier” or “the countryside is definitely happier,” but rather: the conclusions vary depending on the year, sample, and control variables; the key issue is not “urban vs. rural” in itself, but income, environment, public services, social ties, and expectations.
III. Which social strata are happier? Which are least happy?
Here the academic conclusions are relatively consistent: the higher one’s subjective social stratum and objective socioeconomic status, the higher one’s happiness is usually found to be. Research based on CGSS 2010–2015 indicates that both subjective social class and objective socioeconomic status affect happiness; other studies based on CGSS 2018 and 2019 likewise find that as social-class position rises, happiness increases.
Conversely, the groups that repeatedly appear in the literature as less happy are usually not defined by a single occupational label, but by more stable structural characteristics: people in poor health, divorced or in broken marriages, with low income and few housing assets, low perceived social status, dissatisfaction with the environment and public services, unemployment, or unstable circumstances tend to report lower average happiness. CGSS-related studies also often find that the married score highest, while the divorced score lowest, and that health and income significantly affect happiness.
IV. Are Party members happier than non-Party members?
In many Chinese studies, the answer is that on average they often score somewhat higher.
One of the clearest bodies of evidence comes from research on rural residents: an article based on CGSS 2010–2015 found that CCP membership was significantly associated with higher happiness, and that this effect was especially pronounced for rural women. Earlier research on urban residents also often treats Party membership as a positive variable, and some abstracts explicitly state that “marital status and Party membership have a significant positive impact on residents’ happiness.” However, this “Party members are happier” finding should be understood as a statistical correlation, not as a direct claim that “joining the Party causes greater happiness.” More likely, it also reflects differences in income, resources, social participation, and social identity.
V. How do social scientists measure “happiness”?
In Chinese social science, researchers usually do not treat “happiness” as a single emotion. More commonly, they measure:
subjective well-being,
life satisfaction,
positive and negative emotional experience.
A sociological review in China explicitly notes that subjective well-being is usually composed of positive affect, negative affect, and life satisfaction. Other reviews point out that the most common measurement method is self-report scales, including both single-item and multi-item measures.
One of the most widely used national surveys in China is CGSS (Chinese General Social Survey). It contains a classic single-item question: “Overall, do you think your life is happy?” Respondents answer on a scale from “very unhappy” to “very happy,” typically coded from 1 to 5. This is the dependent variable used in many Chinese empirical papers.
Academics are also well aware that self-reports have problems, because different people may use different standards in judging “happiness” or “satisfaction.” For example, research on family happiness measurement has specifically discussed heterogeneity in self-evaluation, and proposed methods such as anchoring vignettes to standardize responses and reduce differences in response standards across groups.
VI. How do Chinese scholars and the media discuss this topic?
This topic is discussed a great deal in China, though not always in identical terms. In the media and in policy discourse, it is often grouped with the triad of “sense of gain, sense of happiness, and sense of security”; in academia, the preferred terms are more often subjective well-being, life satisfaction, social well-being, and social mentality. Wang Junxiu’s team at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences has long worked on social mentality, discussing happiness together with sense of gain and sense of security; Peng Kaiping at Tsinghua emphasizes the multi-dimensionality and measurability of happiness.
Two lines of media discussion are especially visible.
The first is: GDP does not equal happiness. Peng Kaiping has publicly argued that happiness and economic development do not have a simple linear relationship, and that Beijing and Shanghai do not automatically rank at the top; People’s Daily Online has also discussed why residents’ happiness in some high-GDP provinces may lag behind that of others, emphasizing that residents’ happiness is more closely related to disposable income than to GDP totals alone.
The second is: happiness is not just about income; it also depends on education, medical care, eldercare, environment, safety, fairness, and social trust. Tsinghua’s 2022 report explicitly stated that future efforts should continue to focus on raising residents’ incomes, narrowing the urban-rural gap, and improving social services and environmental quality.
VII. If we compress the question into one sentence: who is happiest, and who is least happy?
If one insists on a very compressed summary, then according to existing research:
The happier groups are often found in the eastern coastal region, in places with better public services and net population inflows, and among people who are healthy, married, better off in income and assets, higher in subjective social status, more socially integrated, and—in sample averages—Party members.
The less happy groups are often those who are in poor health, divorced, unemployed or in unstable circumstances, lower in perceived social status, lower in income and housing assets, and dissatisfied with the environment and public services. At the regional level, some parts of central and western China—especially places with weaker resources and public services—are at a disadvantage on average.
VIII. The most careful answer
So if you ask, “Which province in China is the happiest?” the most rigorous answer is not to name a single province, but rather this:
The published research more strongly supports the view that eastern coastal provinces generally have the advantage, with cities in Zhejiang, Jiangsu, and Guangdong repeatedly performing strongly; the “least happy” is not a fixed province, but rather people situated in multiple unfavorable positions in terms of health, marriage, income, social status, and public services.
If you would like, I can next make you a “brief table of Chinese happiness research”, organized by province / urban-rural / social class / Party membership / measurement methods / representative scholars / representative media reports.
“Summary Table of Research on Happiness in China”: Create a table in Chinese organized by “province/urban-rural areas/social class/Party members/survey methods/leading scholars/media coverage.”
2) Response providing a Chinese happiness-research summary table
Below is a directly usable “Brief Table of Happiness Research in China.” I have replaced “happiness” with the more common academic terms “subjective well-being / life satisfaction.” For the “province” category, I describe it as a regional pattern, because public academic research more often provides east-central-west differences, city-cluster differences, and model-city comparisons, rather than a universally accepted ranking of all 31 provinces.
Dimension
Common academic conclusion
Often found higher
Often found lower
Common data/methods
Notes
Province / region
There is no universally accepted national “provincial happiness ranking”; more common findings are that the eastern region is generally higher than the central and western regions, and that coastal, riverine, provincial-capital, and strong-governance cities perform better. Tsinghua’s “People’s Happiness Index / People’s City Happiness Index” likewise states that high-scoring cities are concentrated in coastal, river-based, and provincial-capital areas; research on rural residents finds that eastern farmers report significantly higher happiness than those in central and western regions.
Provinces such as Zhejiang, Jiangsu, and Guangdong often perform well in public “happy city” lists and urban indices; cities such as Hangzhou, Ningbo, Nanjing, Changsha, Guangzhou, Fuzhou, Wenzhou, Wuxi, Taizhou, and others repeatedly appear.
The more common formulation is not “which province is the least happy,” but rather that some parts of central and western China, and places with weaker public services and income conditions, are on average at a disadvantage.
Urban composite indices, CGSS, CLDS, mixed estimates based on statistical data + survey data + online data.
Different rankings use very different criteria; media “happy city” rankings and academic regression results should not be conflated.
Urban / rural
Findings are not completely consistent. More recent CLDS-based research often finds that urban residents as a whole score higher than rural residents; but earlier research and reviews sometimes found that farmers’ happiness was not lower than that of urban residents, and in some cases even higher.
In newer research, urban residents in places with better public services, housing, and environmental conditions score higher on average.
In newer research, rural areas with weaker public services and poorer living conditions are more likely to score lower; but the cause is not “rurality itself,” rather the associated conditions.
The safest phrasing is: cities are not necessarily happier by nature; better living conditions are more likely to bring higher happiness.
Social class
This is the most consistent area of research: the higher one’s subjective social class and objective socioeconomic status, the higher one’s happiness is usually found to be. Differences between occupational strata can, to a large extent, be explained by income and education.
Managers, professionals, upper-middle strata, and those with higher income and education usually score higher.
Farmers, the unemployed, laid-off groups, and those with low income and low perceived social status are more likely to score lower; poor health and unstable marriage also reduce happiness.
CGSS is the most common source, usually combined with income, education, occupation, and subjective-status variables in regression analysis.
Class differences can shift with redistribution and the broader macro environment.
Party members / non-Party members
In many Chinese studies, Party membership is significantly associated with higher happiness; this pattern appears in both rural and urban samples.
Party-member samples often score slightly higher on average; in some studies, the effect is especially pronounced among rural women.
Non-members are not necessarily “much lower”; they simply tend to fall on the lower side of the average correlation.
CGSS, urban or rural subsamples; multivariate regression, ordered logit.
This is a statistical correlation, not proof that Party membership itself causes higher happiness; the relationship may also reflect income, organizational belonging, social participation, and resource differences.
Measurement methods
Chinese scholars usually do not measure “happiness” only as a momentary emotion; rather, they divide it into life satisfaction, positive affect, and negative affect.
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In CGSS, a common single-item question is: “Overall, do you think your life is happy / satisfactory?” There are also life-satisfaction scales and positive-negative affect scales.
In recent years, there has also been research using Weibo and other social-media big data to measure happiness.
Representative scholars
Two major lines of discussion are visible in China: one leaning toward psychology / positive psychology / big data, and the other toward sociology / social mentality / governance.
Peng Kaiping’s work is more focused on happiness science and the “happiness map” built from online data; Wang Junxiu’s work is more focused on social mentality, linking happiness with sense of gain, security, social support, and stress.
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Weibo big data, social mentality surveys, composite indices, national sample surveys.
These two research tracks represent the two major ways happiness is discussed in China: psychometrics/big data and social mentality/governance.
Representative media coverage
Mainstream media often discuss happiness together with “sense of gain, sense of happiness, and sense of security”; among city-related stories, the “China’s Happiest Cities” line is the most stable media thread.
Xinhua’s “China’s Happiest Cities,” China Daily’s explanations of “People’s Happiness” indicators, and People’s Daily discussions of livelihood and happiness.
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Media surveys, forum releases, policy reports, urban rankings.
Media reports are useful for understanding policy discourse and public framing; for academic judgment, one should still return to CGSS, CLDS, CFPS, and related empirical studies.
How to read this table
First, with regard to “which province is happiest,” the more rigorous statement is: the eastern coastal region has the overall advantage, and cities in Zhejiang, Jiangsu, and Guangdong frequently appear near the top of happy-city lists and related indices; but there is no single academic provincial ranking accepted by everyone.
Second, with regard to “the least happy,” academic research more often points to certain situations and groups, rather than to one fixed province. People with poor health, low income and assets, low perceived social status, unstable marriage, and low satisfaction with public services and the environment tend to report lower average happiness.
Third, when Chinese scholars measure “happiness,” they often examine both cognitive evaluations and emotional experiences. In other words, the question is not just “Are you cheerful today?” but also “Overall, do you think your life is going well?”
Fourth, there are indeed many Chinese scholars and media discussions online on this topic, especially the Peng Kaiping line of work on the “happiness map” and Weibo big data, and the Wang Junxiu line of work on “social mentality.” The former emphasizes the multidimensionality and data-based measurement of happiness, while the latter stresses its relation to sense of gain, security, social support, and pressure.
If you want, I can next expand this table into an “academic version with references,” listing 2–3 Chinese articles or reports for each category.
3) Response providing an academic version with references
“附参考文献的学术版”，每一栏列出 2–3 篇中文论文或报告
Below is an “academic version with references.” I have organized it according to the seven categories you requested, and in each category I list 2–3 Chinese articles or reports. One point needs to be stated in advance: for the “province” category, the publicly visible academic literature more often focuses on regional differences, city-cluster differences, and urban-rural differences, rather than a unified ranking of all 31 provinces; so in that row I include representative studies and reports on regional / city differences.
Brief Table of Chinese Happiness Research (with Chinese references)
Category
Main academic takeaway
Representative Chinese articles / reports (2–3 items)
Province / region
The safest statement is: the eastern region is generally higher, the western region generally lower; coastal, riverine, provincial-capital, and strong population-inflow cities are more prominent. But this does not mean there is a universally recognized national provincial happiness ranking.
1. Yue Liying et al., “The Impact of Urban Per-Capita Education Level on Residents’ Subjective Well-Being—Based on a Multilevel Model,” 2021. The article points out that residents in eastern cities score highest, while the western region as a whole scores lower. 2. Tsinghua University China New-type Urbanization Research Institute et al., People’s Happiness Index Research Report, 2022. The report states that high-scoring cities are mainly concentrated in coastal, Yangtze-river, and provincial-capital areas, with many cities in Zhejiang, Guangdong, and Jiangsu near the top. 3. Xinhua / Outlook Oriental Weekly “China’s Happiest Cities” survey results. These are useful as supplemental media materials, though they should not replace academic papers; they are helpful for observing public discussion and urban reputation.
Urban / rural
The findings are not singular. More recent empirical studies often conclude that urban residents as a whole score higher than rural residents; but earlier studies and reviews also found that “farmers’ happiness may not be lower than that of urban residents.” So one must pay attention to year, sample, and control variables.
1. Gu Chudan, “A Study of the Differences in Happiness Between Urban and Rural Residents in China and Their Influencing Factors,” World Regional Studies, 2021, based on CLDS 2014; concludes that urban areas as a whole score higher than rural ones, with the difference mainly due to living standards, environment, and pace of life. 2. He Lixin and Pan Chunyang, “Solving China’s Easterlin Paradox—Income Inequality, Unequal Opportunities, and Residents’ Happiness,” Management World, 2011. Although not exclusively about urban-rural differences, it is important for understanding the relation between those differences, opportunity structures, and income expectations. 3. Relevant review entries in the China Poverty Alleviation and Development Yearbook, which summarize earlier findings that farmers’ happiness may have been higher than that of urban residents; useful for understanding the history of the debate.
Social class
This part of the literature is the most consistent: the higher one’s subjective social class and objective socioeconomic status, the higher one’s happiness is usually found to be; changes among lower and middle strata are also closely tied to redistribution, public services, and expectations of social mobility.
1. Liu Xiaoliu, “The Influence of Socioeconomic Status and Subjective Social Stratum on Happiness,” 2020, based on CGSS 2010–2015; finds that both subjective social class and objective socioeconomic status significantly affect happiness. 2. Hong Yanbi and Feng Xiaotian, “Redistribution and Changes in Class Differences in Happiness (2005–2013),” Society, 2017. Discusses differences in happiness across occupational strata and the role of redistribution. 3. Xu Xiyu, “An Analysis of the Factors Affecting Chinese Residents’ Subjective Well-Being from the Perspective of Socioeconomic Status—Based on CGSS (2018) Data,” 2022; again finds that as social-stratum position rises, happiness increases.
Party members / non-Party members
In existing Chinese studies, Party-member samples often score slightly higher on average than non-members, but this is a statistical correlation and should not be read as a simple causal claim. Organizational belonging, social participation, resources, and identity may also be involved.
1. “Are Party Members Happier? An Empirical Study of Subjective Well-Being Among Party Members”. Circulates in many online forms; the common conclusion is that Party members’ subjective well-being is significantly higher than that of non-members. For formal use, it is best to go back to the original journal version. 2. Relevant reviews / generational studies by Peng Kaiping and others: some work indicates that during the planned-economy era, Party members’ happiness was significantly higher than that of non-members, while after reform and opening the gap became more complex. 3. Forum paper abstract: “The Current State and Mechanism of Occupational Happiness Among Party-member Primary and Secondary School Teachers.” This is about occupational well-being among teachers, not the overall population, but it provides a comparable example of the relationship between Party status and happiness.
Measurement methods
Chinese scholars usually measure subjective well-being, life satisfaction, and positive/negative affect; the most common method is self-report scales. In recent years there has also been a big-data / social-media text approach.
1. “A Review of Happiness Research”, China Sociology Network. Systematically reviews the concept, structure, and measurement stages of happiness. 2. “Progress in Research on the Measurement of Subjective Well-Being and Its Implications for Smart City Construction,” 2015. Specifically discusses life satisfaction, affective well-being, and related scales. 3. “Progress in Subjective Well-Being Research,” 2023. Summarizes self-report scales, experimental methods, memory-based methods, and introduces common tools such as SWLS.
Representative scholars
Two main lines of discussion are especially visible in China: one inclined toward psychology / positive psychology / big data, and the other toward sociology / social mentality / governance.
1. Peng Kaiping (Tsinghua): emphasizes happiness science, happiness maps, and online-text measurement. Tsinghua’s published happiness-index introductions are a good entry point. 2. Wang Junxiu (Institute of Sociology, CASS): has long worked on social mentality, often linking happiness with sense of gain, security, social support, and stress. Relevant achievements can be approached through annual reports and research on social mentality from the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences. 3. Feng Xiaotian, Hong Yanbi, Liu Xiaoliu, and others: focus more on CGSS-based empirical research, especially class, redistribution, social status, and happiness.
Representative media coverage
Mainstream media often discuss happiness together with “sense of gain, sense of happiness, and sense of security”; among city-related reports, the “China’s Happiest Cities” series is the most stable media thread. These materials are useful for policy and public-discourse framing, but they cannot substitute for academic analysis.
1. Xinhua: reports on the release of the “2025 China’s Happiest Cities” survey results. Useful as annual media material. 2. China City News: “Think-tank report: China’s national happiness index continues to improve overall,” reporting the core findings of the People’s Happiness Index Research Report. 3. China Daily / local-government reposts of the Tsinghua report, useful for understanding the policy language and indicator framework around “People’s Happiness Index.”
Three cautions that are best added when using this reference table
First, with a question like “Which province is happiest?”, the existing Chinese academic literature does not really support simply naming one fixed answer. A more reliable statement is that the eastern coastal region has the overall advantage, and cities in Zhejiang, Jiangsu, and Guangdong have performed strongly over a long period.
Second, urban-rural differences are not settled once and for all. If you are writing a literature review, it is best to state explicitly that more recent studies tend to support the conclusion that “urban areas are higher overall,” while earlier studies and some reviews did indeed find that rural areas were not necessarily lower, and in some cases even higher.
Third, the statement that “Party members are happier” should always be qualified with something like “after controlling for a range of variables, Party membership shows a statistical correlation with happiness,” otherwise it is too easy to turn correlation into causation.
Being number two in China is a risky job. Just ask Mao’s onetime expected successors — they are all gone now — maybe you could ask/pray to Marx to put you in touch.
Deng Xiaoping (never formally #2, probably virtually enough to worry Mao)
Chen Boda (maybe)
The winner: Hua Guofeng — Mao supposedly told Hua as he lay dying “with you in charge I am at ease“.
Honorable mention: Deng Xiaoping. Although he never became Party Secretary (the power position) he did become chief of what might also be called the real power position — chair of the Central Military Commission. The top guy over the course of PRC history was often not the head of state and sometimes not even formally the top Party guy (Deng wasn’t). But the top guy has always been head of the central military commission except for Jiang Zemin hanging on for the first six months of Hu Jintao’s term as Party General Secretary. Deng was top boss of China during the 1980s just because he was Deng. Deng acted accordingly subordinating party secretaries Hu Yaobang and Zhao Ziyang — a violation of Party legality that Zhao Ziyang complained about to no avail in his memoir and during his years of house arrest.
A leadership transition is a difficult time for a totalitarian state. The Hu t0 Xi transition was a bit stormy because Bo Xilai at the time had his own eyes on the prize. Bo Xilai is now in jail on the usual corruption charges arranged for non-compliant Party folk. Not that he isn’t guilty, just that corruption isn’t the proximate cause of his jailing. The owner of a small inn in rural Danshan, Sichuan said to me in 2005 “You could shoot into a group of Chinese officials without hitting an innocent man!”
Reminds but not quite the same context as a comparable US quote —in Sioux Center, Iowa, on January 23, 2016 Donald Trump, who was then running for the Republican Party’s presidential nomination, said: “I could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot somebody, and I wouldn’t lose any voters.”
See the 2009 article by Dr. Thomas Kampen for a discussion:
I had some fun today asking the X AI Grok for speculation on Chinese Communist Party General Secretary Xi Jinping’s political future. Grok is designed as a somewhat wild and crazy AI text prediction engines filling its own niche in a competitive market. All the LLMs (AIs) seem designed to have certain ‘personalities’ and to be user-pleasing in their responses. Maybe it can be more fun or even a better partner in speculation that way.
I got from Grok a series of three responses. Grok got its name from Robert Heinlein‘s Stranger in a Strange Land tale of a highly intuitive person Valentine Michael Smith who had been raised by Martians. Each Grok response at the link to the original Chinese language response is followed by another link 50-odd sources it cyber-consulted in Chinese and English online.
Many of the Chinese language sources are western radio stations in Chinese or other Chinese sources outside the Great Red Firewall. So poor Grok may well be the victim of those noxious capitalist weeds that proliferate outside the Chinese Communist Party’s well-tended garden within the Great Red Firewall.
The results are fine fodder for one’s own unfounded speculations. As Grok mentions several times, PRC leadership struggles are most opaque. Like the old saying, “The path that can be laid out before one is not the true path”. dao ke dao fei chang dao 道可道非常道。As is true for many ancient texts that have provided employment for generations of scholars feeding off their ambiguities, there are many translations. I’ve always liked the response attributed to the Chinese-American Professor Yu Ying-shih 余英時 when asked to resolve a disagreement between two interpretations of an ancient Chinese text replied “I read it over last night. I think there are at least thirteen different reasonable interpretations!”
Query: Is Xi Jinping going to step down? Does he want to remain general secretary for life?
As of now (March 2026), Xi Jinping is unlikely to step down in the short term, and there are no official signs that he is about to leave office. On the contrary, most credible analyses and the CCP’s internal political timetable point to him most likely beginning a fourth term at the 21st Party Congress in 2027—as general secretary, state president, and chairman of the Central Military Commission—and continuing to rule until at least 2032, when he will be 79.
Why are there so many short-term “step-down” rumors, but why are they not very credible?
During 2025–2026, overseas media and the X platform did indeed see a large number of rumors claiming that “Xi Jinping is about to step down,” that he had “lost control of the military,” or that he was being “forced out,” especially around the time of the Fourth Plenum and during the downfall of military figures such as Zhang Youxia, He Weidong, and Miao Hua.
Most of these rumors came from self-media, anonymous leaks, anti-CCP circles, or certain Western media outlets citing “inside sources,” but they lacked verifiable official evidence.
Similar rumors have repeatedly appeared over the past decade or more—after the 2018 constitutional revision, before the 20th Party Congress in 2022, and again in 2024–2025 amid health rumors—and most were ultimately disproven. Elite CCP power struggles are highly opaque, making it easy for outsiders to interpret military purges or economic pressure as signs that Xi is losing power. In practice, however, such moves are often tools by which Xi consolidates power: eliminating potential threats and ensuring loyalty.
Does he want to be general secretary for life?
Institutionally: the 2018 constitutional amendment removed term limits for the state presidency, and the posts of general secretary and CMC chairman never had formal term limits to begin with. So “ruling for life” is already possible within the rules.
In practical terms: Xi Jinping has never publicly said he wants to “rule for life,” but all of his actions—failing to designate a successor, breaking the informal “seven up, eight down” retirement norm, and demanding highly personalized loyalty in the military and the Politburo—point to a desire to remain in power for the long term, at least until the 2035 goal of “basically realizing modernization” is completed, and possibly longer.
The current mainstream view among analysts (The Diplomat, The New York Times, Brookings, and others) is:
2027, 21st Party Congress → Xi’s fourth term is the most likely scenario
The succession question will probably be postponed until after 2032, at which point a successor may be selected from among officials born in the 1970s
He is unlikely to retire voluntarily in 2027, because no obvious successor is being groomed, and the risks of retirement are high: family security, policy continuity, and the possibility of political reckoning
Real-world variables
Health: At 72, Xi has indeed been the subject of health rumors in recent years—missed public events, an unusual gait, and so on—but there is no hard evidence that his health has deteriorated to the point of affecting his rule.
Economic and social pressure: Problems such as the property crisis, unemployment, local debt, and population aging are serious and may erode legitimacy, but for now they do not appear sufficient to shake his core hold on power.
Within the Party: there are dissatisfied voices among princelings, Communist Youth League affiliates, and the military, but through continuous anti-corruption drives and military purges, Xi has pushed the possibility of open challenge down to a very low level.
Most extreme scenario: only if his health were suddenly to worsen sharply, or if a major crisis erupted—such as mass protests combined with military disorder—might he be forced into a “graceful retirement” or be sidelined. At present, however, that does not seem highly probable.
In one sentence:
Xi Jinping still firmly controls the core levers of power. The likelihood of him stepping down in the short term (before 2026–2027) is low. Lifelong rule is not impossible, but a more accurate way to put it is that he is pushing with full force toward “extra-long rule”—at least until 2032–2035, and perhaps beyond—unless some major uncontrollable event intervenes.
This judgment is based on current public information and mainstream think tank assessments. CCP black-box politics always leaves room for surprises, but for now the popular claim that “Xi is about to step down” remains far more rumor than hard evidence.
Query: Who are Xi’s potential successors?
1.8-second quick-mode analysis of potential successors
As of March 2026, Xi Jinping still has not clearly designated a successor. This is the most obvious taboo subject and political reality at the top of the CCP. Mainstream think tanks and media outlets (including a February 2026 analysis in The Diplomat, The New York Times, and the Asia Society) broadly agree that:
Xi is highly likely to begin a fourth term at the 21st Party Congress in 2027, holding the posts of general secretary, state president, and CMC chairman, and to remain in power until at least 2032, when he will be 79, and possibly until 2035 or even for life.
He is deliberately not naming a successor in order to avoid the emergence of a “second center of power,” as happened when Hu Jintao groomed Xi. But this also greatly increases succession risk: if Xi were suddenly to suffer a serious health problem or an accident, the Party could face a vacuum and a struggle for power.
Timeline of succession and Xi’s strategy
2027, 21st Party Congress: the key issue is not Xi stepping down, but selecting several officials born in the 1970s—the “second echelon,” now in their fifties—for promotion into the Politburo or even the Standing Committee as successor reserves. These figures would then be positioned to take over when Xi “retires” in 2032, similar to how Xi himself entered the Standing Committee at the 17th Party Congress in 2007 and succeeded in 2012.
After 2032: this is the most likely handover point. If Xi lives to 82 in 2035, he may continue to delay retirement, but by then age pressures may force him at least to give up the state presidency or some portion of his power.
Xi’s dilemma, according to analysts such as Victor Shih and Wang Hsin-hsien: name a successor too early, and you create a rival; name one too late, and that person will lack authority and experience. Xi appears to believe that “only I can lead China to 2049,” so he would rather delay the issue than take the risk.
Pool of potential successors: mainly the post-1970 generation
Most current Standing Committee and Politburo members were born in the 1960s or earlier—for example, Li Qiang is 68 and Ding Xuexiang around 65—and are therefore less suitable as long-term successors. The figures most often mentioned as possible successors are still being seasoned at the provincial-ministerial or vice-ministerial level. They have not yet entered the Standing Committee and remain in the “dark horse” stage.
Recent discussions in 2026, especially in a February article in The Diplomat, focus on the following post-1970 figures. They are seen as loyal, relatively young, and experienced in provincial administration:
Ding Xuexiang (born around 1962; 65 in 2027): the youngest current member of the Standing Committee and one of Xi’s closest confidants, a former aide from Xi’s General Office. If Xi were unexpectedly to retire in 2027, Ding would be the most likely transitional figure. But since Xi is more likely to continue, Ding looks more like a key lieutenant than a true successor.
Chen Jining (Party secretary of Shanghai, born around 1964): repeatedly mentioned by foreign media, including Foreign Affairs and earlier analyses, as a possible dark horse. Shanghai is a key political platform, having already produced Li Qiang. Chen has a strong technocratic profile, with a Tsinghua background, though he is somewhat older than the ideal age.
Liu Jie (acting governor / deputy Party secretary of Zhejiang, born in 1970): frequently mentioned by Taiwanese scholars and Chinese-language analysts as having perhaps the best chance of eventually entering the Standing Committee. He moved from the steel industry into politics, served in Hunan, Jiangxi, Guizhou, and Hangzhou, and has strong Zhejiang ties associated with Xi’s old political base.
Other post-1970 figures explicitly listed in recent analysis as possible 2027 Politburo candidates include:
Zhuge Yujie (deputy Party secretary of Hubei, born 1971)
Shi Guanghui (deputy Party secretary of Inner Mongolia, born 1970)
Yang Jinbai (deputy Party secretary of Hainan, born 1973)
Liu Hongjian (deputy Party secretary of Yunnan, born 1973)
Zhu Zhongming (deputy Party secretary of Shanghai, born 1972)
Hua Chunying (vice foreign minister, born 1970) — a woman from the foreign affairs system, symbolically significant
Miao Deyu (vice-ministerial official in the central bureaucracy, born 1971)
What these figures have in common is that they were born after 1970, avoiding the politically sensitive 1989 cohort; they have provincial governing experience; and they are Xi loyalists or newly promoted figures trusted by him. At the same time, military succession is being shaped through purges, and younger officers will likely be selected from a similarly loyal pool.
Why is it still so hard to tell who is “most likely”?
Xi is extremely suspicious of the very idea of a “successor.” Anyone who is publicly hyped may end up being marginalized. In the past, figures such as Qin Gang and Liu Jianchao were at times viewed as possible future stars in foreign affairs, only to fall from favor.
The system is still in an “observation period.” Between 2026 and 2027, those who perform best in the economy, pandemic control, diplomacy, or military affairs—and who demonstrate absolute loyalty—will be the ones most likely to be elevated at the 2027 Party Congress.
The highest-risk scenario is that if Xi were suddenly incapacitated between 2027 and 2032, Ding Xuexiang or Chen Jining might take over in the short term, but military or elder intervention could make the transition unstable, producing something like a late-Soviet succession shock.
In one sentence:
Xi Jinping is using the strategy of “not naming a successor” to consolidate his own power, but in doing so he is also pushing CCP succession back toward a Mao-era model of black-box politics and sudden contingencies. The real successor will most likely come from the rising generation of provincial stars born in the 1970s listed above, and the 21st Party Congress in 2027 should offer the first real clues. At present, however, no one can be said to have a secure lead in the race to become the next general secretary.
CCP elite politics always contains unknowns, but in the short term (2026–2027), rumors about “Xi stepping down” and “who will replace him” remain, for the most part, rumors—many claims, little hard proof.
Query: Analyze potential successors born after 1970.
This is a synthesized judgment based on the latest public analyses available in 2026. If there is a Fifth Plenum or a major personnel reshuffle in the future, the list of names could still change.
1.6-second expert analysis of the backgrounds of post-1970 successor candidates
As of March 2026, successor figures born in the 1970s are still in the “reserve” stage. No clear successor or crown prince has emerged. According to the latest analysis in The Diplomat in February 2026 and other widely cited sources—including The New York Times, DW, public biographical records, and official media reporting—the people truly in the pool for Politburo promotion at the 21st Party Congress are mainly vice-provincial-level figures, especially deputy provincial Party secretaries born in the 1970s, with Liu Jie drawing the most attention because he is already a provincial governor.
These people share several traits:
They were born between 1970 and 1973, which would make them 54–57 in 2027 and 59–62 in 2032—an ideal age range for succession.
They are highly educated, most with master’s or doctoral degrees, often in engineering, economics, or management.
They are technocrats by background, often starting in enterprises or local grassroots administration, with cross-provincial experience.
They were rapidly promoted in the Xi era. Loyalty, more than any other factor, appears to be the primary screening criterion. They generally lack strong Youth League or princeling identities.
They are still in a period of observation and testing. Only after entering the Politburo in 2027 will it become possible to see who can distinguish himself in economic management, diplomacy, or local governance.
Below is a profile of the main candidates, based on the latest public résumés and focusing on what makes them relevant to succession prospects:
Liu Jie (born January 1970, from Danyang, Jiangsu) — currently the most talked about, with perhaps the strongest chances of eventual promotion to the Standing Committee
Education: doctorate in engineering, with a background in steel and industrial management.
Career: began as general manager of Xiangtan Iron and Steel Group in Hunan, then moved from enterprise into government. In 2008 he became director of the Hunan Department of Commerce, then the youngest provincial department head in the country. He later served in Jiangxi as mayor and Party secretary of Xinyu, in the Jiangxi provincial leadership, as Party secretariat chief in Guizhou, Party secretary of Hangzhou, member of the Zhejiang provincial Standing Committee, and in January 2025 became governor of Zhejiang, the youngest provincial governor in China, as well as an alternate member of the 20th Central Committee.
Xi ties: a classic “Zhijiang New Army” figure associated with Xi’s Zhejiang network, Zhejiang being Xi’s key political base. During the 2026 Two Sessions, he reportedly trended online because of a private remark along the lines of, “Are you all hoping every day that the boss [Xi] has an accident?”—taken as a sign of intense personal loyalty.
Advantages as a successor: rich experience governing major economic regions, the most suitable age, and a full set of cross-provincial credentials. Multiple analyses, including DW and various Chinese-language commentaries, see him as one of the strongest candidates to enter the Standing Committee by 2032, though his “youngest in the country” label may also be risky, since being overhyped too early has harmed careers before.
Zhuge Yujie (born May 1971, from Shanghai) — a representative Shanghai technocrat
Education: studied industrial and civil construction at Nanjing Navigation Engineering School, later completed in-service university work, earned an MBA from Shanghai Jiao Tong University, and holds senior professional titles in engineering and economics.
Career: began as a construction worker in a Shanghai port engineering company and spent fifteen years in enterprise work before moving into politics in 2009 as deputy district chief of Putuo. He later served as district chief and Party secretary in Yangpu, secretary-general of the Shanghai Party Committee, deputy Party secretary and head of the Political-Legal Affairs Commission in Shanghai, and in 2023 was transferred to Hubei as deputy Party secretary and became an alternate member of the 20th Central Committee.
Xi ties: worked under Li Qiang, one of Xi’s key allies, when both were in Shanghai. He is a typical Shanghai-system technocrat with enterprise experience.
Advantages as a successor: experience on two important platforms—Shanghai, China’s economic center, and Hubei, a major inland province. Strong engineering and management credentials make him well suited for future economic or infrastructure leadership. He is widely seen as having a good chance of entering the Politburo in 2027 and is a standard-bearer of the “second echelon.”
Liu Hongjian (born January 1973, from Fuding, Fujian) — a dark horse with Fujian/Ningde connections
Education: biology degree from Fujian Normal University and graduate training at the Fujian Provincial Party School.
Career: began at the grassroots in Fuding, under Ningde, then served as general manager of Fujian Tourism Group and mayor of Nanping. In 2020 he moved across provinces to become a vice governor of Yunnan, then in 2021 joined the Yunnan provincial Standing Committee, headed political-legal affairs, became Party secretary of Kunming, and in November 2025 was promoted to deputy Party secretary of Yunnan as well as alternate member of the 20th Central Committee.
Xi ties: associated with Ningde in Fujian, where Xi governed in 1988–1990. While not necessarily a direct protégé, he is often seen as part of the broader Fujian network, similar to figures such as Cai Qi.
Advantages as a successor: experience in both political-legal affairs and local administration, plus fast cross-provincial advancement. He was reportedly identified by The Wall Street Journal in 2022 as a rising political star. Experience in a border region and in developing new zones adds to his profile, though the political-legal system is especially sensitive in Xi-era politics.
4–6. Other deputy-secretary-level post-1970 figures named in The Diplomat as possible 2027 Politburo entrants
Shi Guanghui (born 1970): deputy Party secretary of Inner Mongolia. Lower profile, but with frontier governance experience and a reputation for loyalty.
Yang Jinbai (born 1973): deputy Party secretary of Hainan. Hainan’s status as a free trade port gives him reform-era credentials.
Zhu Zhongming (born 1972): deputy Party secretary of Shanghai. A local Shanghai figure with a technocratic path similar to Zhuge Yujie’s.
These men are all provincial deputy Party secretaries—the second echelon. The common pattern is rapid promotion during the dense reshuffles of 2025–2026, ongoing accumulation of provincial governing experience, and a strong fit with the Xi-era model of “high education plus political reliability.” Public biographical detail on some of them remains limited.
Hua Chunying (born April 1970, from Huaiyin, Jiangsu) — a symbolic female figure from the diplomatic system
Education: Foreign Languages School, Nanjing University.
Career: spent most of her career in diplomacy. Beginning in 2012, she served as a Foreign Ministry spokesperson for an exceptionally long period of eleven years, then became director of the Information Department in 2019, and is now vice foreign minister, a member of the ministry Party committee, secretary-general for China–Central and Eastern Europe cooperation, and also a standing committee member of the All-China Women’s Federation.
Advantages as a successor figure: a woman born in the 1970s with high international visibility and a recognizable public image. Some discussion suggests she could be elevated to the Politburo in 2027 as a symbolic and gender-diversifying appointment, but she is not regarded as a core succession contender. She is more likely to be a symbolic inclusion than a serious candidate for top leadership.
Other names, such as Miao Deyu, currently have much lower visibility in recent analyses and have not entered the mainstream discussion pool, so they are not the focus here.
Conclusion and risk assessment
Shared strengths: this cohort of post-1970 figures can largely be described as the “new generation of Xi’s men”—people with technocratic or enterprise backgrounds, advanced education, little historical baggage, and strong loyalty. Xi appears to be deliberately rotating and testing them across regions before 2027 so as not to create rivals too early.
Succession timetable: at the 21st Party Congress in 2027, the first step would likely be entry into the Politburo, or perhaps designation as future Standing Committee material. The real transfer of power, if it happens, would more likely come in 2032, when Xi would be 79. Who rises above the rest will depend on economic performance in local office, crisis management, and ability to implement Xi’s line.
Biggest variable: by refusing to name a successor, Xi avoids creating a second center of power, but he also increases the black-box risk. If his health fails or a major crisis erupts, a short-term arrangement might involve Ding Xuexiang as a transitional figure alongside some combination of these younger leaders. Being branded “the youngest” too early, as with Liu Jie, can be both an advantage and a liability.
Bottom line: in the short term, no one can challenge Xi. These post-1970 officials are still a reserve pool. Only after the 21st Party Congress in 2027 will the list become much clearer. For now, Liu Jie appears to be the most favored, with Zhuge Yujie and Liu Hongjian close behind.
This is a synthesized judgment based on the latest public information and mainstream think tank analysis as of March 2026. CCP personnel politics is always a black box. Anyone who is overhyped too early or performs poorly can quickly fall out of the race—that is precisely how Xi’s political game works. If there are new developments at a future plenum or in further provincial reshuffles, the list could shift again.
Query: Analyze the details of Liu Jie’s career path
Liu Jie (born January 1970, from Danyang, Jiangsu) is an alternate member of the 20th CCP Central Committee and currently serves as Deputy Secretary of the Zhejiang Provincial Party Committee, Secretary of the Party Leadership Group of the provincial government, and Governor of Zhejiang Province (formally elected in January 2025). He became the country’s first provincial governor born in the 1970s and is currently the youngest provincial-level government chief in China (age 55). His career is characterized by a progression from a technical position in state industry, to a rapid transition into officialdom, to cross-provincial appointments in multiple regions, and then to focused promotion in the Xi era. He is a typical example of the “technocrat + loyal executor” path.
Complete career timeline (based on official biographies and the latest publicly available information, updated March 2026)
September 1988 – August 1992: Studied for a bachelor’s degree in iron and steel metallurgy in the Department of Metallurgy at the University of Science and Technology Beijing.
August 1992 – October 1996: Technician at the steelmaking plant, First Steelmaking Plant, and Second Steelmaking Plant of Xiangtan Iron and Steel Company (started at the grassroots in technical roles).
October 1996 – May 1998: Deputy director of the converter workshop, Second Steelmaking Plant, Xiangtan Iron and Steel Company (deputy section level).
May 1998 – July 1998: Director of the converter workshop, Second Steelmaking Plant (section level).
July 1998 – March 2000: Deputy plant manager of the Second Steelmaking Plant (deputy division level).
March 2000 – March 2003: Plant manager of the Second Steelmaking Plant (division level).
March 2003 – July 2003: Assistant general manager of Xiangtan Iron and Steel Company, concurrently plant manager of the Second Steelmaking Plant.
December 2003 – June 2005: Deputy general manager of Xiangtan Iron and Steel Group Co., Ltd.
June 2005 – August 2008: Executive director and general manager of Xiangtan Iron and Steel Group Co., Ltd. (in charge of a state-owned enterprise worth tens of billions of yuan, while also pursuing doctoral studies in-service). These sixteen years in the enterprise sector were his core advantage: from grassroots technician to the top executive of a major state-owned enterprise, he accumulated substantial experience in industrial management and economic operations. During the same period (June 2005 – June 2008), he pursued in-service postgraduate study in resource industry economics at the School of Economics and Management, China University of Geosciences, earning a doctorate in engineering and the title of senior engineer.
August 2008 – June 2011: Director and Party Secretary of the Hunan Provincial Department of Commerce (entered officialdom at age 38, becoming the country’s first provincial department chief born in the 1970s).
June 2011 – December 2011: Director and Party Secretary of the Hunan Provincial Department of Commerce, concurrently Deputy Secretary of the Party Working Committee of the Changsha-Zhuzhou-Xiangtan “Two-Oriented Society” Comprehensive Reform Pilot Zone.
December 2011 – February 2012: Deputy Secretary of the Xinyu Municipal Party Committee, Jiangxi Province, and acting mayor (his first cross-provincial transfer, taking charge of a locality).
February 2012 – August 2013: Deputy Secretary of the Xinyu Municipal Party Committee and Mayor of Xinyu, Jiangxi.
August 2013 – September 2016: Secretary of the Xinyu Municipal Party Committee, Jiangxi (then the youngest prefecture-level municipal Party secretary in Jiangxi).
September 2016 – November 2016: Deputy Secretary-General of the Jiangxi Provincial Party Committee (department-head level).
November 2016 – May 2018: Member of the Standing Committee of the Jiangxi Provincial Party Committee and Secretary-General of the Provincial Party Committee (at age 46, becoming the country’s first provincial standing committee member born in the 1970s).
May 2018 – July 2020: Member of the Standing Committee of the Guizhou Provincial Party Committee and Secretary-General of the Provincial Party Committee.
July 2020 – September 2020: Member of the Standing Committee of the Guizhou Provincial Party Committee, Secretary-General of the Provincial Party Committee, and concurrently head of the Provincial Organization Department (briefly held the personnel portfolio).
September 2020 – December 2021: Member of the Standing Committee of the Guizhou Provincial Party Committee and head of the Provincial Organization Department (no longer concurrently Secretary-General).
December 2021 – October 2023: Member of the Standing Committee of the Zhejiang Provincial Party Committee and Party Secretary of Hangzhou (an outside appointment that broke the nearly thirty-year convention that Hangzhou Party secretaries came from within Zhejiang).
October 2023 – December 2024: Deputy Secretary of the Zhejiang Provincial Party Committee and Party Secretary of Hangzhou (held both posts concurrently, including responsibility for major matters such as the Hangzhou Asian Games).
December 2024 – January 2025: Deputy Secretary of the Zhejiang Provincial Party Committee, Secretary of the Party Leadership Group of the provincial government, Vice Governor, and Acting Governor.
January 2025 – present: Deputy Secretary of the Zhejiang Provincial Party Committee, Secretary of the Party Leadership Group of the provincial government, and Governor.
Key features of his career path and analysis
A classic path from enterprise management into officialdom Similar to figures such as Li Qiang (who once served as head of Wuxi’s commerce bureau) and Chen Jining (with his Tsinghua engineering background), Liu Jie’s experience as the top executive of a major steel SOE gave him practical strengths in the economy, industry, and investment promotion. After entering officialdom, he first handled commerce (that is, outward-oriented economic affairs), then governed a resource-based city (Xinyu), which fits the CCP’s promotion logic for officials who “understand the economy and know how to manage.”
Multiple cross-provincial transfers and one of the most complete résumés Hunan (commerce + “Two-Oriented Society”) → Jiangxi (local leadership + provincial standing committee) → Guizhou (secretary-general + organization chief) → Zhejiang (provincial capital + deputy Party secretary + governor). His experience spans four provinces and includes central, western, and eastern China, with a wide range of economic environments—industrial, resource-based, and coastal high-tech. He is a model case of the Xi-era practice of “multi-region seasoning.” Frequent cross-provincial transfers also suggest strong trust from the center and help prevent the entrenchment of local factional networks.
The “youngest” label and its risks He has repeatedly held posts billed as the “youngest” of their kind nationally or provincially: first post-1970 provincial department head, first post-1970 provincial standing committee member, first post-1970 governor. In earlier years, media often praised him as a “political rising star.” But in CCP personnel politics, “exposure too early” can be a double-edged sword, sometimes leading to marginalization or trouble. So far, however, Liu Jie has continued rising steadily and has not suffered any obvious setback.
Xi faction / Zhijiang New Army coloration Although he has no direct overlap with Xi’s own years in Zhejiang (2002–2007), his appointment to Hangzhou in 2021 from outside the province broke precedent; his promotion to deputy Party secretary in 2023 and then directly to governor at the end of 2024 suggest that he is seen as a trusted younger executor in Xi’s system. In Zhejiang, he was responsible for major projects such as the Asian Games, and his performance appears to have been positively received.
Potential succession value As the benchmark post-1970 provincial governor, Liu Jie currently ranks near the top of the successor pool, alongside figures such as Zhuge Yujie and Liu Hongjian. If Xi were to hand over power in 2032, Liu would be 62—still in his political prime. But CCP succession remains a black box: loyalty, performance, and the absence of strong rivals are what matter most. At present, no one can say with certainty that he holds the status of heir apparent.
Summary Liu Jie’s rise can be described as “rocket-like” but steady. He went from frontline steelmaking to a provincial governorship, with sixteen years in enterprise and eighteen in officialdom, across four provinces and many posts, fitting almost perfectly the Xi-era preference for younger officials who are educated, technocratic, and seasoned across different sectors and regions. At the 21st Party Congress in 2027, he is very likely to enter the Politburo, or at least become a leading figure among the post-1970 successor echelon. But there are always uncertainties in top-level CCP politics: health, performance, and factional maneuvering could all affect his future trajectory.
My Three Queries to Grok and its Three Responses in Chinese. After each response it lists about 50 sources in Chinese and English. See the link at https://grok.com/share/c2hhcmQtNA_559262f7-0ed6-4c98-bf87-41537b70bcab for the sources which are appended online to each of the responses copied below. They didn’t copy with the Chinese text and anyways would have been long to appear.
As elsewhere, social and legal norms made for especially strict controls on women in the PRC. China’s fertility planning –a better translation for the Chinese words ‘family planning’ jihua shengyu would be planned fertility. Analogous to state economic planning this was not planning by autonomous couples. The state commands – Don’t have too many children! Then in recent years policy whiplash — Now you need to have more children!
Now there are increasing possibilities in China for women to get a better education or simply to leave rural China to try to find a better life in the city. The migration to China’s big cities may be connected to the decline in the once exceptionally high suicide rate among women in rural China. Chinese cities have generally excluded migrant workers from state-supported schooling and other support enjoyed by city residents. This follows the rationale of China’s rural/urban internal migration restriction system. Fan Yusu wrote in her biographical essay about the difficult life of a migrant workers in a big Chinese city in her essay translated at 2017: A Chinese Migrant Worker’s Story: “I Am Fan Yusu” . There was a push as well as a pull in the migrant story. Despite troubles in the cities, the countryside could be worse.
While I was at the US Embassy Beijing in a late 1990s, during a meeting with PRC Ministry of Agriculture officials, one official volunteered that they wish they hadn’t approved some years before a particularly strong pesticide (paraquat) that had become the suicide method of choice for rural women. Tighter controls on paraquat in China also likely contributed to the the decline in suicides among rural Chinese women.
Some context (maybe too much context!) from earlier translations on this translation blog:
Title: Xiao Pa Banned: A Single Complaint Labeled as Opposition—A Woman’s Voice Should Not Be Silenced Author:Tianping’s Huahua Publication Date:March 2, 2026 Source:WeChat Official Account – Lying Flat Hua Hua Topic Category:Women’s Rights CDS Collection:Citizens’ Hall Copyright Notice: This work is copyrighted by its original author. China Digital Times archives the original content solely to counter China’s internet censorship. Detailed Copyright Notice.
On February 27, 2026, Weibo announced that stand-up comedian Xiao Pa’s account had been suspended for “inciting gender conflict and fueling marriage and child-rearing anxieties.” The trigger was an everyday lament: “After two days of fever-induced bed rest, I’m grateful I have no husband or children to force me to cook while sick.”
A personal rant was elevated to a public incident.
Our discussion has never been about whether Xiaopa should “shut up.” Rather, it’s about why an ordinary woman from a disadvantaged background—someone who has lived with depression and found solace through stand-up comedy—must be silenced simply for expressing her genuine feelings.
1. Her jokes aren’t incitement—they’re testimonies of survival.
Xiao Pa’s story is emblematic of many women from disadvantaged backgrounds.
Born in Xinjiang, she grew up in a family that favored sons over daughters. Her father, who had been married multiple times, was absent and indifferent. The most direct assessment her family gave her was, “Too bad you’re not a son.”
Raised by her grandparents, she struggled between discipline and neglect. After reaching adulthood, she drifted alone, working as an agent and planner while scraping by on the margins of life.
She suffers from depression and bipolar disorder; stand-up comedy is her outlet, not a weapon.
She speaks of the absurdity of her family of origin, the oppression of marriage, and women’s invisible labor—not to foster hatred toward men or reject marriage, but to lay bare the suffering she endured and the pain she witnessed, turning it all into jokes.
Her choice to remain unmarried and childless is not dogma, but self-preservation; her fear of marriage and parenthood is not anxiety peddling, but a sober choice born of trauma.
Such expressions have been simplified in the public discourse as: stirring up division, promoting non-marriage and childlessness, and creating anxiety.
2. It’s not the account that’s been banned—it’s the genuine pain women feel.
According to the official assessment, the core issue with Xiao Pa lies in his tendency to extrapolate personal experiences into collective realities.
Yet we must admit:
• Women managing households while ill is a common reality, not a fictional construct;
• Women’s disproportionate burden of household chores and emotional labor in marriage is a social consensus, not a prejudice;
• The toll that childbirth takes on women’s bodies, careers, and freedom is a personal pain, not a smear.
Xiao Pa simply voiced the heartfelt truth that millions of women dare not speak.
She didn’t hurl insults, spread rumors, or incite violence. She simply posted on her account: I don’t want to, I refuse, and I’m relieved…
This is called expression, not propaganda.
Labeling the personal choice of “remaining unmarried and childless” as “unhealthy values” essentially denies women the right to refuse.
Labeling women’s complaints about household labor as “gender conflict” essentially amounts to forbidding women from voicing grievances.
Labeling the vulnerability and lucidity of those with depression as “negative emotions” is fundamentally a refusal to let the vulnerable speak.
3. No need to ban: In the age of self-media, expression is not an original sin.
Xiao Pa’s rise to fame isn’t because she’s “extreme,” but because she’s authentic.
In this era where women’s issues have become highly sensitive, we are all too quick to equate “women speaking out about pain” with “attacking men,” “rejecting marriage and childbearing” with “defying society,” and “individual grievances” with “inciting division.”
But the gender divide isn’t something people just complain about—it’s created by structural constraints.
Blocking a small patch won’t erase the women who cook late into the night while battling illness;
Banning one account won’t erase the pain endured by girls harmed by patriarchal attitudes.
Defining an expression does not erase those ordinary people struggling with depression and clinging to life on the edge.
She is just a content creator, a stand-up comedian, an ordinary woman expressing herself online. She has no authority to set rules, no power to define values—she’s simply saying “I.”
Conclusion: Only by allowing women to speak can we achieve true clarity.
We do not pursue opposition; we pursue truth. We do not promote hatred; we pursue sight.
Xiao Pa’s suspension is most troubling not as a single punishment, but as a trend:
Labeling women’s pain, the voices of the vulnerable, and the choices of minorities as uniformly “harmful,” then silencing them.
Let Little Pa speak up, Let women vent their frustrations, Let unmarried and childless individuals exist, Let depression be seen.
This is the inclusivity a healthy society should embrace, and the very clarity of heart that the Clear and Bright Initiative was meant to safeguard.
Lu Chuanying 鲁传颖 is a Special Expert at the Center for Strategic and Security Studies, Tsinghua University Professor at the School of Politics and International Relations, Tongji University Executive Deputy Director of the Research Center for International Cyberspace Governance. [Extended AI-generated note.]
Cai Yue 才悦 is a Doctoral Candidate, of the 2023 admission cohort of the School of Politics and International Relations Tongji University
Artificial intelligence (AI) technology is the core driving force of the Fourth Industrial Revolution. It has transcended its technical attributes and become a key strategic factor that shapes the distribution of power in the international system and restructures the geopolitical order. Trump’s reelection has also propelled the AI competition between China and the United States into a new phase, one characterized by structural transformation. The Trump 2.0 administration’s AI policies continue and reinforce the “America First” policy logic, exhibiting distinct neo-mercantilist characteristics and unilateralist tendencies. The U.S. strategic community widely believes that the Trump 2.0 era will adopt a more assertive stance of technological nationalism, placing Sino-U.S. AI relations in a state of “competitive interdependence.” The Trump administration’s discourse of “American exceptionalism,” coupled with its interpretation of China’s technological rise as a Thucydides Trap, forms the cognitive foundation of U.S. AI policy toward China in this phase.
Despite facing increasingly stringent U.S. technology blockades and export controls, China’s innovation capabilities in artificial intelligence demonstrate remarkable resilience and vitality. Breakthroughs in AI technologies, such as the foundational models DeepSeek and Tongyi Qianwen, challenge Western stereotypes about China’s technological prowess and introduce diverse institutional ideas to the U.S.-dominated global technology governance order. These breakthroughs have intensified deep-seated concerns among U.S. strategic elites about America’s ability to maintain absolute leadership in cutting-edge technologies. These breakthroughs also expose the strategic myopia of U.S. attempts to curb China’s AI development through “technological decoupling” strategies.
I. New AI Policy Direction in the Trump 2.0 Era
The evolution of U.S. artificial intelligence (AI) policy shows strategic continuity and policy adjustments during presidential transitions. The Trump 2.0 AI policy framework reinforces and extends the principles of Trump 1.0, while adapting the Biden administration’s technology governance framework. This policy portfolio follows a three-pronged logic: First, it intensifies government intervention in industrial policy and innovation systems. Second, it deepens “selective decoupling” in technology sectors. Third, it reconstructs a U.S.-centered global AI alliance network. This policy orientation reflects America’s strategic ambition to further unipolar hegemony.
1.1 Policy Evolution: Balancing Continuity and Adjustment
The Trump 2.0 era brought about significant changes to U.S. artificial intelligence policy development strategies. On January 23, 2025, the first day of his second term, Trump signed Executive Order 14179, titled “Removing Barriers to U.S. Leadership in Artificial Intelligence.” This order explicitly repealed Executive Order 14110, established by the Biden administration, which centered on the concept of “safe and secure technological leadership.” The new executive order signaled a shift in the Trump administration’s AI policy toward a strategy that prioritizes “dual expansion in technology and markets.”
In contrast, the Biden administration’s AI policy focuses on pursuing technological advantage while establishing governance frameworks. It seeks to strengthen technological leadership in AI by increasing investment in the field, enhancing export controls, and reviewing foreign investments. Concurrently, it places significant emphasis on AI safety governance. Building upon Executive Order 14110, the Biden administration established an AI safety governance framework guided by the Office of Management and Budget memorandum M-24-10 and the AI Safety Institute’s safety governance standards. In contrast, the Trump 2.0 era’s AI policy explicitly prioritizes competitive advantage over security concerns. At the French AI Action Summit, Vice President J. D. Vance stated that “the future of AI will not be won by excessive concern over security,” reflecting this policy shift. Not only did the Trump administration repeal the Biden administration’s executive order aimed at balancing technological leadership with security, it also restricted state governments from implementing AI safety-related initiatives, steadfastly advancing its policy stance of prioritizing technological supremacy.
The policy adjustments of the Trump 2.0 era are a continuation of the Trump 1.0 approach of “strengthening competitive logic while weakening regulatory frameworks.” Regarding competition, the policy framework established by Executive Order 13859 (Maintaining U.S. Leadership in Artificial Intelligence) during the first Trump administration—which includes increasing research and development (R&D) investment, opening data resources, setting standards, and cultivating talent—has been sustained and expanded. The systematic roadmap outlined in the National Artificial Intelligence R&D Strategic Plan (2019 Update) also remains in effect. This selective inheritance logic entails retaining all policy tools that enhance U.S. AI competitiveness while weakening or abolishing regulatory measures that are considered “developmental obstacles.” Trump 2.0’s AI policy exhibits distinct instrumental rationality, with its policy values serving only competitive objectives.
Notably, despite the more aggressive AI policies under Trump 2.0, multiple constraints have emerged at the operational level. Senior administration officials have frequently sent strong anti-regulatory signals. For example, Vice President Pence argued that “excessive concern over security” is misplaced. Conversely, the White House Office of Management and Budget’s recently published memoranda M-25-21 and M-25-22 maintain certain risk management frameworks. This indicates that the Trump administration’s high-profile AI rhetoric cannot be directly translated into concrete policy actions, necessitating tactical refinements at the operational level.
The government is effectively seeking a new equilibrium, balancing industry demands for deregulation while avoiding potential risks stemming from complete laissez-faire. This contradiction reflects the tension between the policy goal of achieving “absolute competitive advantage” and the practical necessity of “essential risk management.” As shown in Table 1, the fundamental contours and underlying logic of U.S. AI policies, including strategic priorities, R&D investment, and regulatory frameworks, reveal this complex interplay of continuity, adjustment, and coexistence during the Trump 1.0 era, the Biden administration, and the Trump 2.0 era.
Table 1. Comparative Overview of U.S. AI Policy Orientations
Policy domain
Trump 1.0 (2017–2021)
Biden Administration (2021–2025)
Trump 2.0 (2025–present)
Core policy documents
American AI Initiative; National Artificial Intelligence R&D Strategic Plan (2019 update); Executive Order 13859, “Maintaining American Leadership in Artificial Intelligence”
Executive Order 14110, “Safe, Secure, and Trustworthy Artificial Intelligence”; White House Office of Management and Budget (OMB) memorandum advancing governance, innovation, and risk management for agency use of AI (M-24-10); CHIPS and Science Act
Executive Order 14179, “Removing Barriers to American Leadership in Artificial Intelligence”; U.S. AI Action Plan
Strategic focus
Emphasizes global leadership; initial standard-setting; cultivating AI talent
Emphasizes governance frameworks for AI safety, ethics, and civil rights; maintains technological dominance through “hard” measures such as export controls
Emphasizes “America First” and “global market leadership”; intensifies competition with China; builds the “Stargate” project
R&D investment
Pledges to double AI R&D investment; promotes long-term R&D
Ensures sustained investment in AI R&D
Continues R&D investment commitments, but stresses “creative allocation” of public funds, clear prioritization, and market-competition goals
Regulation / oversight
Directs federal agencies to reduce barriers to AI development; emphasizes public–private cooperation
“Deregulation,” but risk-management requirements are raised via administrative memoranda
AI safety / ethics
Emphasizes balancing innovation with privacy, security, and freedom
Strong emphasis on AI safety, ethics, and protection of civil rights; issues the Blueprint for an AI Bill of Rights
Downplays broad, universal ethics requirements; focuses more on concrete governance in high-risk domains
Export controls
Focuses on technology protection
Implements strict export controls on chips and AI models; proposes “AI diffusion rules”
Tightens controls on China; promotes global expansion of the U.S. industrial ecosystem
Talent policy
Focuses on domestic workforce development and STEM education/training
Emphasizes attracting top global talent
Wavers between “America First” and AI talent needs; strengthens STEM education while tightening foreign visa policy
International cooperation
Establishes new international AI alliances
Advocates multilateral cooperation; co-develops norms with allies
Leans toward unilateralism and limited alliances; reconstructs a system centered on the U.S. industrial ecosystem
Source: compiled by the authors
1.2 Drivers of Policy Adjustment: Convergence of Multiple Logics
The adjustment of artificial intelligence (AI) policy during the Trump 2.0 era stems from the complex convergence of three intertwined logics: technological, political, and international competition. Massive investments in AI, the uncertainty of its technological prospects, the dominance of tech-right factions in AI policy formulation, and the impact of China’s “open-source, low-computing power” AI development model are core factors driving this period’s policy shift.
Technically, massive capital investments and uncertainty about the prospects of generative AI drove the Trump administration to relax regulations. While the United States continues to lead the world in AI, demonstrating significant progress in language comprehension and multimodal reasoning with large models like GPT-4o, Gemini 2.0, and LLaMA, AI is still in the early stages of development. Current mainstream models are heavily focused on language generation and have limited adaptability in critical application scenarios, such as healthcare, manufacturing, and education. The path for translating these technologies into industrial applications is unclear, and substantial R&D investments face significant uncertainty regarding their ability to yield expected returns. The sustainability of technological breakthroughs is difficult to guarantee. Prematurely tightening regulations could stifle innovation and threaten the United States’ leading position in the global AI race.
Meanwhile, new challenges arising from the large-scale deployment of AI models are becoming increasingly apparent, particularly with regard to energy consumption and environmental impact. U.S. research institutions project that AI data centers will account for between 6.7% and 12% of the nation’s electricity demand by 2028. These centers’ cooling systems will consume vast amounts of freshwater. This close linkage between AI development and energy security has prompted the Trump administration to expand its AI policy beyond technological competition to include a systemic engineering approach that encompasses energy and infrastructure. In the Trump 2.0 era, energy policy has become a central pillar of AI strategy.
The Artificial Intelligence Action Plan prioritizes nuclear energy, establishing small, transportable modular reactors as the main power source for future data centers and supercomputing facilities. By creating direct links between AI and energy policies, the U.S. aims to promote sustainable computational growth and solidify its dominance in key technological areas. The Trump 2.0 administration’s energy policy sharply diverges from the Biden administration’s approach. The Biden administration emphasizes alleviating AI’s energy consumption pressures through a clean energy transition, integrating AI development into the broader framework of climate change mitigation. This reflects a coordinated consideration of global climate responsibility and technological advancement. In contrast, the Trump 2.0 administration bundles AI’s energy demands with traditional and nuclear energy sources, prioritizing energy independence and strategic control. Facing dual pressures from technological breakthroughs and massive energy demands, the Trump administration pursued two parallel policy logics. On the one hand, it maintained an innovation-over-regulation orientation to provide greater space for technological development and preserve competitive advantages. On the other hand, it reverted to traditional and nuclear energy sources to ensure energy reliability and security.
From a political perspective, the tech-right faction, represented by David Sacks—the White House’s chief advisor on artificial intelligence and cryptocurrency—has gained unprecedented influence within the administration. The faction’s core narrative asserts that America can only secure absolute dominance in AI by dismantling the shackles of “ethical bureaucracy” and the “deep regulatory state.” Conversely, the faction claims that any preemptive regulation justified by security or rights concerns would cede the strategic initiative to potential adversaries.
The Republican National Committee incorporated AI issues into its 2024 platform’s “dual cultural and industrial front,” asserting that President Biden’s Executive Order 14110 hinders innovation through “leftist social engineering” and weakens U.S. military strength. This embeds AI regulation directly into partisan ideological conflict. In February 2025, Vice President Vance’s speech at the AI Action Summit in France explicitly juxtaposed “deregulation” with “deterrence against China,” stating that “algorithmic barriers are the last line of defense for the free world.” If the U.S. fails to secure structural technological superiority, its global institutional influence will erode through “de-Westernization.” Within this narrative framework, AI action plans formulated by tech right leaders such as Michael Kratsios, Sachs, and Mike Waltz have solidified into a centralized decision-making system with pronounced anti-regulatory tendencies. This trajectory heightens the risk of failure in technological assessment and stakeholder balancing.
From an international competition perspective, escalating technological rivalry has propelled AI policy to the core of national security strategies. The EU has taken the lead by establishing mandatory risk classification and cross-border compliance mechanisms through its AI Act. The EU aims to secure global agenda-setting power through “rule-making ambition.” The UK is leveraging safety assessments as a tool to gain technological influence through its dual-track approach of the “Frontier AI Taskforce” and the AI Safety Institute. India is targeting “Global South” markets with low-cost, multilingual models by providing massive subsidies for computing clusters. Meanwhile, Gulf nations are investing oil revenues and zero-carbon energy into data centers and GPU reserves to become global computing hubs, even attracting joint investments from U.S. firms.
This multipolar competition, coupled with pressure from China’s “open-source, low-computing-power” strategy, further reduces America’s technological lead. In this competitive landscape, those who simultaneously master algorithms, data, and computing power gain greater leverage in shaping international standards, supply chain configurations, and alliance networks. The sustained pursuit of technology intensifies concerns among U.S. strategic elites and propels the Trump administration to elevate AI competition to a core national security priority. Confronted by China’s rapid AI breakthroughs, intensifying domestic culture wars, and the rise of tech-right factions, the Trump 2.0 era further entrenched America’s existing competitive logic of “maintaining supremacy by suppressing rivals.” This logic represents an escalation of past technology containment policies, which pursued both leadership and suppression, under new competitive dynamics. Consequently, competition itself is viewed as the prerequisite and safeguard for preserving America’s institutional dominance.
1.3 Core Pillar Construction: Three Major Policy Pillars
The central theme of AI policy development during the Trump 2.0 era is “driven by dual expansion in technology and markets.” The AI policy framework built around this principle has three interdependent pillars: market logic emphasizing innovation and minimal regulation, economic nationalism under the “America First” doctrine, and geopolitical logic prioritizing national security. These pillars reinforce each other, transforming AI technology into a core asset for “great power strategic deterrence” and forming an internally cohesive policy system.
Within the market-oriented logic, the Trump 2.0 era aims to invigorate the artificial intelligence industry through the systematic deregulation of supply and the amplification of demand. The core approach comprises three complementary phases: First, regulatory relaxation. Executive Order 14179 repeals multiple pre-assessment requirements from the Biden era, mandating that regulatory agencies establish testing sandboxes and exemption pathways for businesses. The order authorizes replacing broad “safe, reliable, and trustworthy” requirements with “cost-benefit” criteria, which fundamentally lowers compliance barriers. Second are tax and credit incentives. The Treasury Department offers a 25% tax credit for investments in AI accelerators and high-bandwidth memory chips. Additionally, the “One Big Beautiful Bill” allocates $500 million to create the “Commercial AI Modernization Fund” within the Commerce Department to directly subsidize federal deployments of software as a service (SaaS)-based AI solutions. Third, leveraging federal demand: It converts government orders into first-mover effects to accelerate commercialization. These measures complement the technological liberalism of large enterprises with large models, propelling mainstream companies from demanding stringent regulation toward a “hands-off” approach. Thus, the Trump 2.0 era not only champions “market omnipotence,” but also transforms the AI arena into a rapid-feedback, high-frequency policy testing ground through a dual approach of institutional deregulation and fiscal incentives.
Economic nationalism is the second pillar of AI policy in the Trump 2.0 era. Its core objective is to establish a localized AI ecosystem to achieve economic and technological self-sufficiency. This is a concentrated manifestation of the “America First” principle within AI policy. The federal government uses two economic tools, procurement and industrial funding, to strengthen domestic supply chains.
In February 2024, the Trump administration strengthened the Buy American Act requirements, mandating that AI software and specialized chips contain at least 75% domestic content. The administration also authorized the Office of Management and Budget to conduct quarterly audits of agency compliance.
Then, in March 2025, the Trump administration issued a Commerce Department memorandum that made technical revisions to the CHIPS and Science Act’s subsidy provisions, aligning them more closely with the “America First” principle and the overall orientation of AI policy. The revised bill no longer provides unconditional subsidies. Instead, funding is tightly tied to conditions such as supply chain repatriation and localized technology research and development (R&D). By raising investment thresholds, mandating domestic manufacturing, and strengthening tariff incentives, the policy encourages companies to anchor high-value semiconductor manufacturing, packaging, and R&D capabilities in the United States. Through these measures, the Trump administration employs economic nationalism as a policy tool to firmly anchor supply chains and critical technologies within the United States, thereby maximizing U.S. economic growth and technological autonomy.
During the Trump 2.0 era, the influence of geopolitical logic on AI policy has steadily intensified. This logic prioritizes using AI-related resources to shape security deterrence, with the aim of monopolizing computational power and enforcing data blockades. This strategy aims to prevent rivals from gaining the upper hand while safeguarding U.S. leadership in artificial intelligence. In terms of security deterrence, the U.S. Department of Defense’s 2025 Joint All-Domain Command and Control (JADC2) Implementation Plan identifies generative large language models as essential elements of rapid decision-making processes, emphasizing AI-driven automated simulations to reduce strategic response times.
Accordingly, the FY2025 National Defense Authorization Act allocates $17.2 billion in research and development (R&D) funding for AI, 5G, and experimental demonstration projects. The Act also establishes a special fund of $1.72 billion within the science and technology budget to advance generative models, predictive analytics, and algorithmic prototypes. This reflects the fact that AI is no longer merely an auxiliary tool, but rather a core variable that directly impacts military success or failure. Furthermore, the AUKUS trilateral security partnership has designated AI and autonomous systems as one of its six priority areas. The partnership is negotiating joint validation and certification processes to ensure that future joint operational models adhere to unified security baselines.
In terms of monopolizing computational power, the U.S. continues to strengthen its geopolitical control over advanced semiconductor production capacity through the “Chip 4 Alliance.” Through its collaboration with Japan, South Korea, and Taiwan, the U.S. restricts the export of high-performance chips and extreme ultraviolet (EUV) lithography equipment to mainland China. This attempt aims to curb China’s hardware capabilities for AI development at the foundational computational level. On January 8, 2025, the U.S. Department of Justice published the “Final Rule on Preventing the Acquisition of Large Volumes of Sensitive Personal Data and Government-Related Data by Countries of Concern or Designated Persons” under Executive Order 14117, which addresses data barriers. This further restricts data flows to China, reflecting Washington’s policy of imposing strict controls on data movement under the pretext of national security. These measures have institutionalized artificial intelligence as a new “sovereign weapon” to safeguard America’s digital borders.
In summary, the Trump 2.0 era’s AI policy integrates industrial dynamism, economic nationalism, and geopolitics into a unified framework. It accelerates technological iteration through federal deregulation and fiscal incentives; constructs a closed-loop ecosystem for domestic and allied markets via procurement laws and export controls; and leverages small multilateral standards to translate computational superiority into institutional power. These three pillars mutually reinforce each other, yet they harbor inherent tensions: market efficiency demands openness, nationalism emphasizes protection, and security imperatives require controllability. The success of future policies will depend on whether the Trump administration can establish a sustainable dynamic equilibrium between innovation-driven growth, economic interests, and risk management.
II. The State of AI Competition Between China and the United States in the Trump 2.0 Era
The China factor is the catalyst for Trump’s transformation of AI policy in his second term, as well as the target of competitive victory. Despite the United States’ ongoing efforts to contain China, its AI sector has made significant breakthroughs and developed a unique approach to AI. This has triggered strategic anxiety in the United States and driven Washington to escalate its objectives and tactics in the AI competition with China. This phase of Sino-U.S. AI rivalry closely aligns with the “America First” principle, prioritizing innovation over regulation, and the geopolitical mindset embedded in U.S. AI policy.
2.1 Shift in Sino-American Competitive Dynamics: Narrowing Gap Triggers U.S. Objective Adjustment
China’s rapid technological advancements and breakthroughs in large-scale models have raised strategic concerns in the United States. Since 2023, China has made remarkable leaps in generative AI technology, approaching international advanced levels. Even more critically, open-source models launched by new companies like DeepSeek and Tongyi Qianwen have made significant breakthroughs in parameter efficiency and inference performance.
Notably, the DeepSeek-R1 model, which was trained using computational resources equivalent to just one-twentieth of the cost to train GPT-4, has approached or even surpassed the performance of Western foundational models in key benchmarks such as mathematical reasoning, code generation, and scientific question-answering. This achievement exemplifies China’s distinctive technical approach, termed “model optimization under computational constraints.” A Nature magazine report on DeepSeek-R1 noted that this model rivals Western flagship performance with minimal computational resources. This breakthrough marks a milestone in China’s AI technology, prompting the international academic community to reevaluate the pace of China’s technological progress.
Concurrently, China is demonstrating robust momentum in AI infrastructure development. Domestic AI chips, such as Huawei’s Ascend and Cambricon, are gradually closing the performance gap with Nvidia products. Meanwhile, platforms like Alibaba Cloud and Tencent Cloud are developing deep technical expertise in large-model training and inference services, forming a relatively complete AI industrial ecosystem. Faced with China’s rapid advancements in large-model technology, U.S. strategic circles and policymakers have developed unprecedented anxiety.
Harvard’s Belfer Center’s Key and Emerging Technologies Index Report explicitly warns that America’s technological edge in AI is rapidly diminishing. China has demonstrated capabilities that rival or even surpass those of the United States in certain domains, particularly in areas like parameter efficiency, training cost control, and open-source ecosystem development for large models.
Against this backdrop, Trump 2.0’s strategic objectives regarding AI policy toward China shifted significantly, transitioning from “maintaining leadership” to “closing the gap.” This marks a clear trajectory from relative advantage to absolute dominance. The fundamental driver of this policy change is that, when the technological gap narrows from generational superiority to comparable performance, maintaining relative leadership is insufficient to secure a strategic advantage. Instead, insurmountable technological barriers must be constructed through systematic technological blockades and resource monopolization.
In response to China’s technological advancements, the United States is intensifying its efforts in budgetary investments and technological containment. The FY2025 Defense Budget prioritizes generative models, autonomous systems, and C4I as “frontier deterrence” focal points. R&D funding for these areas is growing faster than funding for any other technology. Meanwhile, the Department of Commerce is continuously expanding its export control list for AI technologies to China in an attempt to stifle its development in critical AI domains through a “chokepoint” strategy. As a result, the U.S.’s competitive objective has evolved beyond merely maintaining a technological gap. It now seeks to solidify the gap as an insurmountable structural divide through executive orders, budgetary investments, and technological blockades. This strategic shift signals that the intense rivalry between the U.S. and China in the field of AI has entered a new phase, constituting the most prominent strategic indicator in the current AI contest between the two nations.
2.2 U.S. Escalation of Measures: From Technology Controls to Comprehensive Blockade
The Trump 2.0 administration’s approach toward China has evolved from an initial “small compound with high walls” strategy to a “large compound with deep walls” strategy. This new strategy encompasses entities, finance, computing power, and talent, all driven by an overarching strategic objective. The United States continues to expand the scope of its technology sanctions against China.
As of September 29, 2025, the U.S. Entity List covered 3,163 entities, a significant proportion of which were Chinese and operated in critical technology sectors. In September 2025, the U.S. enacted new regulations stipulating that subsidiaries of companies holding 50% or more equity in their parent companies would automatically be added to the Entity List, thereby expanding the scope of the sanctions list further. These lists reflect the deepening and intensifying nature of U.S. technological controls against China.
In March 2025, the U.S. Department of Commerce expanded its export control licensing requirements to include cloud computing power, model weights, and advanced algorithms. The goal was to cut off China’s access to external training resources. Even more surprisingly, the department extended controls to AI research papers, academic exchanges, and talent mobility, seeking to establish a comprehensive “AI firewall.” The U.S. State Department and the Department of Homeland Security announced the revocation of critical STEM visas and the establishment of a sensitive “algorithm expert” category, prompting widespread academic concerns about the “weaponization of visas.”
In April 2025, the U.S. amended its regulations further to impose a “presumption of denial” on the export of new chips, such as NVIDIA’s H20 and AMD’s MI308, to China. This imposed stringent restrictions on China’s access to critical hardware resources. By mid-2025, however, the U.S. began strategically relaxing its blockade framework. In July, exports of H20 and MI308 chips to China resumed under the condition that manufacturers remit approximately 15% of their revenue to the U.S. government and comply with additional controls, including “location verification” and restrictions on third-country transit. While this move appears to ease restrictions, it effectively increases transaction costs and enhances tracking mechanisms. This simultaneously reduces the market share of domestic Chinese chips, such as Huawei’s, while ensuring the U.S. government reaps dual benefits in commercial and security spheres. This reflects a dynamic equilibrium between national security and industrial interests.
Furthermore, the United States has expanded its exclusive control over global technology supply chains by strengthening its grip on critical technologies within multilateral frameworks. Through agreements such as the “Chip Four Alliance” and the Indo-Pacific Economic Framework (IPEF), the United States pressures allies to restrict key equipment, standards, and supply chain nodes — such as ASML’s EUV lithography machines and photoresists — to an exclusive alliance. This externally constrains China’s technological ecosystem. Overall, the policy tools of the Trump 2.0 era have transcended mere hardware embargoes, shifting toward a comprehensive blockade that encompasses “blocking algorithms, controlling computing power, cutting off talent, and rallying allies.” Consequently, the AI competition between China and the United States has entered a phase of deep, institutionalized, and alliance-based confrontation.
2.3 China’s Shift in Response Strategy
Based on the United States’ policy orientation, the “decoupling” trend in the AI sector between China and the U.S. is unlikely to reverse in the short term. In response to the U.S.’s intensifying technological containment strategy, China’s counterstrategy has evolved from merely responding to blockades and closing gaps to developing an autonomous ecosystem, promoting open-source pathways, and establishing an AI development framework grounded in global cooperation.
At the policy level, China is developing an independent and reliable artificial intelligence ecosystem to counter the United States’ intensifying “decoupling” measures. In January 2025, the State Council and the National Development and Reform Commission established a national-level AI special fund, which prioritizes support for domestic large-scale models, domestic chips, foundational computing power platforms, AI talent cultivation, and computing node system construction. Multiple provinces and municipalities have also established specialized industrial funds to support local large-scale model research and development (R&D) and open-source platform development.
In April 2025, amid U.S. policy discussions to add AI firms like DeepSeek to the Entity List, General Secretary Xi Jinping emphasized the following during the 20th Collective Study Session of the Political Bureau of the CPC Central Committee:
“Faced with the rapid evolution of next-generation AI technologies, we must fully leverage the strengths of our new national system, uphold self-reliance and self-strengthening, prioritize application-oriented development, and promote China’s AI sector toward healthy, orderly progress that is beneficial, secure, and equitable.”
At the 2025 World Artificial Intelligence Conference, nearly ten leading chip and large-model enterprises launched the “Model-Chip Ecosystem Innovation Alliance.” The alliance aims to establish unified hardware and software standards within the industry and promote the construction of a domestic interoperability system.
China has explored a technological pathway distinct from the U.S.’s closed-source approach, prioritizing open-source development. “Changing lanes to overtake” has emerged as the most viable strategy. The open-source model absorbs global knowledge contributions, circumvents U.S. government restrictions, and positively impacts China’s AI development at the technical and policy levels.
In practice, the DeepSeek-R1 open-source model has outperformed leading Western models despite limited computational resources, fully demonstrating the open-source approach’s viability. Since its release in 2023, Alibaba’s Tongyi Qianwen series has spawned over 10,000 models on Hugging Face. These models demonstrate significant advantages in multilingual response and extended context processing and have been widely adopted by global developers. The digital distribution of open-source code bypasses hardware shipment dependencies, circumventing “GPU embargoes” and “weight lockdowns.” In the long term, open-source models will serve as the guiding principle and technological foundation for China’s construction of an open, global AI ecosystem.
At the global level of cooperation, the competitive policies of the Trump 2.0 era have created a “battlefield-like” atmosphere within the United Nations’ multilateral platforms. This has undermined the cooperative spirit and exacerbated divisions. This has resulted in insufficient coordination within the global governance process. In response to the United States’ institutional exclusion, China has adopted a multi-tiered strategy. At the UN, China promotes the Inclusive AI Capacity Building Initiative, which aims to provide Global South nations with open-source models and technical training. Within multilateral frameworks such as APEC and the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO), China has proposed the Global Data Cross-Border Flow Cooperation Initiative and the China-SCO Countries AI Application Cooperation Center Construction Plan, respectively. These initiatives offer institutional references for multilateral cooperation.
Additionally, China has strengthened rule-based cooperation with countries such as France and the United Kingdom by dispatching official delegations to participate in the Bletchley Summit and the Paris AI Action Summit, advancing AI regulatory collaboration. China has also intensified cooperation with key countries such as Singapore, Malaysia, and the UAE. These efforts include establishing data centers, encouraging model exports, and establishing critical channels for overseas development. Through capacity building, talent development, and industrial cooperation, China aims to help Global South nations rapidly establish the foundational resources needed for AI development using low-cost, deployable, open-source models. To further advance global cooperation, the Chinese government has proposed creating a “World Artificial Intelligence Cooperation Organization” and released the Global AI Governance Action Plan. This initiative invites the United Nations, international organizations, governments, and enterprises to collaborate in building an open, inclusive, fair, verifiable, and development-friendly AI governance pathway. This would create a framework that is a parallel to the closed system led by the United States.
III. The Global Implications of Sino-American Artificial Intelligence Competition
The competition between China and the United States in the field of artificial intelligence has gradually expanded from chips to the entire AI ecosystem, continuously escalating. Currently, the rivalry extends beyond technological confrontation to include a multifaceted contest over institutional power, technological ecosystems, economic structures, security paradigms, and governance discourse. This comprehensive competitive landscape is profoundly reshaping the operational logic and structure of global technological, economic, and security systems.
3.1 Devastating the Global Technology Innovation Ecosystem
The “America First” and “technological nationalism” strategies pursued during the Trump administration have accelerated the structural fragmentation of global AI innovation networks. These strategies have also led to regulatory fragmentation and coordination dilemmas within global governance mechanisms. These strategies have pressured the collaborative innovation system, originally built on development cooperation, to “choose sides.” As political factors alter the logic of technological development, talent mobility, scientific research collaboration, and innovation systems experience sustained disruption. Clearly, the AI competition between China and the United States triggers not only localized confrontation in specific technological areas but also a fundamental restructuring of the operational conditions for the global science and technology innovation system. The regionalization of talent mobility, the securitization of research collaboration, and the factionalization of knowledge production collectively indicate a critical trend: global collaborative innovation is shifting from high connectivity to structural fragmentation.
Under the Trump administration’s policy framework of intensifying visa restrictions and background checks, the model of the free movement and open exchange of global AI talent is progressively being disrupted. The United States has long relied on global high-end talent to maintain its leadership in artificial intelligence. Statistics indicate that approximately 70% of U.S. AI researchers are from overseas, and about 38% have Chinese backgrounds. However, driven by policy tightening and geopolitical risks, some talent that would have otherwise flowed to the U.S. and Europe is now redirecting toward Asia, Latin America, and the Middle East. This shift is fostering the emergence of new research networks centered around China. This transformation signals a gradual transition in international talent mobility, moving from a concentrated model with a few major tech powers as the primary destinations to a more decentralized flow pattern centered on multiple regions. Consequently, the geographic distribution of global AI innovation is shifting from concentration to diversity.
Meanwhile, so-called national security considerations have also disrupted international mechanisms for knowledge production and scientific collaboration. Traditionally, research cooperation in the global AI field has relied on university alliances, multinational laboratories, and technical communities to form collaborative platforms built on trust and guided by principles of open sharing. However, amid U.S. efforts to “decouple” from China, this cooperative model has faced numerous challenges. According to data from the National Science Foundation (NSF), nearly 40% of U.S. AI research outcomes in 2023 involved international collaboration. However, this proportion has shown a significant downward trend over the past two years. The selection of AI research partners is increasingly influenced by institutional alignment and political stances. Project approvals, funding flows, and even publication channels are becoming embedded within national strategic considerations. Institutional incompatibility has become an invisible barrier to cross-border collaboration. Research partnerships that once spanned systems are gradually devolving into internal collaborations. This shift has led to a collapse of the mechanisms of scientific and technological trust.
This shift is also reflected in the production patterns of scientific research. Co-authorship networks in papers published in leading international AI conferences and journals are becoming more polarized. Collaboration between European and American nations has grown tighter, while cooperation between China and Global South countries has surged. The production and dissemination of technological knowledge are gradually decoupling from the logic of globalization. This trend restricts the integration of diverse knowledge systems and negatively impacts collaborative research on emerging tech ethics, risk prevention, and cross-cultural scenarios. Consequently, it weakens the systemic adaptability and innovation spillover effects of global AI development.
3.2 Impact on the Global Economic System and Industrial Synergy Structure
The competition between China and the United States in artificial intelligence (AI) is profoundly reshaping the global economic system, affecting economic and industrial structures. “De-risking” policies have weakened the highly integrated, collaborative structure that once characterized the global AI industry, forcing supply chains to evolve toward regionalization and fragmentation. This has, in turn, exacerbated global economic imbalances.
Excessive competition has led to the restructuring and fragmentation of the global AI industry. The global AI industrial network, which was originally built on comparative advantages and economies of scale, is now being forced to reconfigure itself along geopolitical boundaries. As the United States pushes for the localization and repatriation of critical technological components and China accelerates the construction of an autonomous and controllable technological system, this competitive dynamic shifts the global AI industry from high integration to regionalized clusters.
The competition between China and the United States in artificial intelligence (AI) is profoundly reshaping the global economic system, affecting economic and industrial structures. “De-risking” policies have weakened the highly integrated, collaborative structure that once characterized the global AI industry, forcing supply chains to evolve toward regionalization and fragmentation. This has, in turn, exacerbated global economic imbalances.
Excessive competition has led to the restructuring and fragmentation of the global AI industry. The global AI industrial network, which was originally built on comparative advantages and economies of scale, is now being forced to reconfigure itself along geopolitical boundaries. As the United States pushes for the localization and repatriation of critical technological components and China accelerates the construction of an autonomous and controllable technological system, this competitive dynamic shifts the global AI industry from high integration to regionalized clusters.
In the long run, the intense competition between China and the United States in the field of artificial intelligence will affect the global economy’s growth potential. AI is the core driving force of the new industrial revolution, and realizing its full potential requires collaborative innovation and global application promotion. However, the current competitive landscape limits the depth and breadth of such collaboration, which could delay the progress of global digital transformation. This would ultimately affect the world economy’s overall growth quality and sustainable development capacity. The economic restructuring driven by Sino-American AI competition is fundamentally altering the operational logic of globalization. Technological development is increasingly serving geopolitical rivalry rather than optimizing economic efficiency.
3.3 Eroding global strategic stability mechanisms and exacerbating the proliferation of militarization
Amidst intensifying Sino-American competition, artificial intelligence is rapidly becoming integrated into national security and military strategic frameworks. This shift is reshaping how nations perceive the boundaries between war and peace and posing a fundamental challenge to the conditions that underpin long-term strategic stability. Traditional strategic stability mechanisms are being progressively eroded, particularly in the areas of information transparency, capability assessment, and crisis management. This undermines the structure of strategic mutual trust and fuels global militarization.
First, the deployment of military artificial intelligence exacerbates the decline in information transparency, which undermines the fundamental premise of strategic mutual trust that has traditionally sustained relations between major powers. Conventional arms control and strategic deterrence mechanisms depend on visibility into an adversary’s capabilities and intentions to facilitate mutual restraint and crisis management. However, the United States has accelerated the deployment of AI-driven intelligent systems in areas such as operational management, intelligence analysis, and unmanned systems. Most of these projects are highly classified under the guise of “national security.”
For example, since 2018, the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA) has launched military AI initiatives such as “AI Next” and “AI Forward,” investing over $2 billion to advance the integration of trustworthy AI systems into the military. Due to the technology’s sensitivity, these deployments are deeply embedded within networks, algorithms, and data links. This makes it difficult for external observers to accurately assess each side’s capabilities and operational logic. This has eroded traditional information-sharing mechanisms and risk-warning systems.
Second, the capability assessment mechanism has further weakened in the AI competition, leading to an increased risk of strategic miscalculation. Amid ineffective communication and verification mechanisms, the United States has accelerated the independent development and deployment of military AI systems, exacerbating uncertainty and strategic ambiguity stemming from “black-box models.” The nonlinear evolution and autonomous decision-making attributes of AI systems have also made nations increasingly reliant on worst-case assumptions when evaluating each other’s military capabilities. In this context, competitive behaviors are increasingly rationalized, and defensive technological deployments by one side are perceived as offensive signals by the other. This intensifies misunderstandings and hostility surrounding defensive deployments. Augmented by rapid-response systems like generative models, nations may bypass human control protocols, fostering a new strategic logic of decision compression and emergency escalation. This further increases the accidental nature and uncontrollability of military conflict outbreaks.
The absence of crisis management mechanisms has also intensified competition in the field of military artificial intelligence, raising security concerns as its disruptive effects on global stability become increasingly pronounced. Historically, major powers relied on multilateral crisis prevention mechanisms, such as strategic communication, hotlines, and joint exercises.
However, the ambiguous behavior of AI systems and the difficulty of determining responsibility have significantly reduced the effectiveness of traditional crisis management tools in an AI context. Currently, neither China nor the United States has established fundamental rules regarding behavioral red lines, incident attribution, or early warning channels, whether concerning deepfakes, automated attacks, or autonomous weapon deployment. This institutional vacuum heightens the risk of miscalculation. Under this competitive precedent, other nations are accelerating the development of military AI systems, emulating China and the U.S., which further escalates the complexity and risks of global crisis response, creating a risk multiplier through “imitative proliferation.”
This competitive AI rivalry is reshaping the global military development paradigm and the arms control agenda. Driven by technological competition, nations such as Israel, South Korea, and Russia are advancing the experimental deployment of intelligent weapon systems under the “security first” logic, further straining the fragile multilateral arms control mechanisms within the United Nations framework. International negotiations on lethal autonomous weapons systems (LAWS) have repeatedly stalled in recent years. In 2024, negotiations on LAWS formally ceased due to deep divisions among core nations regarding restrictive rules. This event signifies that AI competition is no longer merely a bilateral issue, but rather, it has become a factor that undermines the global trust framework.
Overall, the strategic competition over the military deployment of artificial intelligence has significantly undermined the structural foundations of global strategic stability. Although the military application of AI enhances operational efficiency and capabilities, it has also reshaped the pathways for conflict initiation and escalation. In the absence of transparency, evaluation, and control mechanisms, the risk of technological misinterpretation, misjudgment of intent, and system malfunction is rising. Against the backdrop of an absence of global governance consensus, AI competition is evolving into an institutional driver of global militarization trends, posing profound challenges to peace and stability in the 21st century.
IV. Prospects for Sino-US Cooperation in the Field of Artificial Intelligence
The Trump 2.0 era has escalated the competition between China and the United States in the field of artificial intelligence, turning it into an institutionalized and structured confrontation. This rivalry has transcended traditional technological contests and expanded into a comprehensive contest for institutional power. This contest encompasses rule-making, standard-setting, and value-based influence. It is shaping the evolution of the global technological order. However, artificial intelligence is a critical general-purpose technology with global spillover effects and systemic risks. Therefore, the development and governance of AI cannot be based entirely on zero-sum logic.
As the two primary drivers of global AI advancement, China and the U.S. share a common mission to ensure technological safety and sustainable development. Despite the challenges to high-level dialogue and cooperation during the Trump 2.0 era, there is still minimal security collaboration and unofficial communication channels amid the intensifying competition. These channels will play a crucial role in shaping future global AI governance frameworks. In the short term, the Trump administration’s intensified “selective decoupling” policy may exacerbate institutional fragmentation within the global AI ecosystem. In the medium term, divergent technological trajectories and governance models will drive the formation of a multipolar, low-coordination governance landscape. In the long term, despite formidable challenges to government-level cooperation, deepening governance deficits, increasing risk incidents, and evolving global consensus, there is potential for China and the U.S. to rebuild cooperative frameworks in security, standards, and risk governance.
First, there is still room for China and the United States to cooperate on international security issues arising from artificial intelligence. This is especially relevant given the growing frequency of high-risk scenarios, such as the potential for military AI to spiral out of control, the proliferation of deepfakes, and intelligent attacks on critical infrastructure. Both countries have a practical need for a minimum consensus on security. In these high-risk domains, technological miscalculations can trigger chain reactions that transcend the control of any single nation, making basic strategic stability a shared responsibility. Even during the most intense phases of great power strategic competition, sustaining “cooperation amid competition” is both feasible and necessary.
However, deepening cooperation between China and the U.S. in AI security is no simple task. The governance logic of artificial intelligence differs fundamentally from that of traditional security governance. Historically, China and the U.S. have established relatively stable frameworks of mutual trust and crisis management in areas such as nuclear deterrence and weapons of mass destruction. Yet, the dual-use nature of AI and its inherent uncertainty blur the boundaries between war and peace, civilian and military applications, and development and deployment. This challenges traditional security perceptions and governance paradigms. To address this, both nations must establish a multi-tiered governance mechanism centered on mutual trust and mutual understanding and guided by rules. Strategic and scientific communities from both nations must establish security dialogues and reach consensuses to mitigate global risks posed by high-risk scenarios, such as the uncontrolled deployment of military AI, the proliferation of deepfakes, and intelligent attacks on critical infrastructure.
Second, there is substantial potential for cooperation between China and the United States in the field of AI technology security. Both countries should rebuild foundational technical consensus. Conducting joint research in cutting-edge areas such as generative AI, multimodal intelligence, and brain-inspired computing can mitigate misjudgment risks and serve as an “academic bridge” to ease political tensions. They should clearly define the boundaries of high-risk technologies and establish behavioral red lines around deepfakes, autonomous weapons, and intelligent attacks. Additionally, they should build predictable technical restriction mechanisms. Regarding standards and rule-making, both sides should explore possibilities for “technical cooperation,” such as establishing technical-level interoperability mechanisms covering data structures, security assessments, and model testing to prevent the fragmented evolution of standards systems. They should establish crisis communication mechanisms tailored to the characteristics of AI, drawing inspiration from the Cold War–era “hotline mechanism” to promote the creation of normalized, high-level communication channels and emergency dialogue platforms. This would reduce the risk of strategic misinterpretation.
Finally, cooperation between China and the United States should extend beyond the governmental level to include collaboration among academic circles and technology companies. Against the backdrop of continuously shrinking official dialogue channels and dwindling political trust, “low-politicized” cooperation mechanisms involving non-governmental organizations, academic institutions, and multinational corporations are increasingly demonstrating their strategic resilience.
.Even during the Trump 1.0 era, when political relations between the U.S. and China were highly strained, academic collaborations between institutions like Harvard University and Tsinghua University remained active. This shows that communication and collaboration at the non-governmental level are resilient under pressure. Even within a confrontational framework, it is evident that preserving second-track engagement through academic exchanges is crucial for sustaining communication and cooperation.
The consensus reached by the leaders of both countries is a crucial political foundation for potential AI cooperation between China and the United States. During the 2023 San Francisco summit, the two nations reached a shared understanding of the risks and safety concerns associated with advanced AI systems. In May 2024, the first intergovernmental dialogue on AI was held. That same year, the Lima Meeting at the APEC Summit further affirmed the necessity of maintaining communication regarding AI safety. These shared understandings provide an institutional foundation for dialogue and cooperation. Despite the severe constraints on bilateral cooperation during the Trump 2.0 era, when government-level collaboration became exceptionally difficult, China and the United States still have shared responsibilities as global AI powers in addressing risks and ensuring technological stability. These responsibilities preserve potential pathways for limited yet necessary cooperation.
V. Conclusion
Artificial intelligence has reached a critical juncture in its transition from technological innovation to institutional construction. As key leaders in the global technology ecosystem, China and the United States must find room for cooperation amid fierce competition, establish minimal consensus despite institutional differences, and exercise restraint in the face of shared challenges. Only by transcending zero-sum logic and rebuilding a shared sense of responsibility can we ensure that AI technology serves humanity’s common future of security, development, and governance.
The ability to rebuild the foundation for governance cooperation amid deep-seated strategic competition has become a critical variable for both China and the United States in shaping the future global AI development order. To maintain its technological leadership, the United States must achieve an institutional balance between national security objectives and global innovation vitality, rather than intensifying containment efforts against China. Meanwhile, China should strengthen its technological capabilities and actively propose inclusive, actionable governance initiatives to establish new normative advantages within the global AI governance framework.
The Global Governance Initiative, proposed by President Xi Jinping at the SCO Tianjin Summit in September 2025, exemplifies this normative strength. Guided by the principle of “innovation and improvement,” the initiative adheres to five core tenets: sovereign equality, respect for the rule of international law, commitment to multilateralism, a people-centered approach, and an action-oriented focus. Along with the Global Development Initiative, Global Security Initiative, and Global Civilization Initiative, it creates a four-dimensional framework. This framework provides China with crucial support to gain a greater voice and institutional influence in transforming the global governance system. It also offers a more robust institutional framework for international cooperation and governance in emerging technology fields, such as artificial intelligence.
For the international community, Sino-U.S. competition carries systemic tensions but does not necessarily lead to an adversarial structure that demands “choosing sides.” Key actors, such as the European Union, Japan, and India, should promote ethical principles, institutional coordination, and standard governance. Through multilateral platforms and regional mechanisms, these actors can promote greater openness, diversity, and collaboration in global AI governance.
This article was first published in the Pacific Journal 《太平洋学报》on December 18, 2025.
拜登政府的人工智能政策呈现出追求技术优势与治理规则构建并行的双重特征。一方面，通过加大对人工智能领域的投资，加强出口管制、对外投资审查等措施试图强化在人工智能领域的技术领先优势。同时，也高度关注人工智能安全治理。拜登政府以第14110号行政令为基础，并以白宫管理和预算办公室（OMB）发布的备忘录（M-24-10）和人工智能安全研究所制定的安全治理标准，构建了人工智能安全治理体系。特朗普2.0时期人工智能政策明确将竞争优势置于安全考量之上，副总统万斯（J. D. Vance）在法国人工智能行动峰会上表示”人工智能的未来不会因过度担忧安全而获胜”，体现了特朗普2.0时期政策理念的转变。特朗普政府不仅废除了拜登政府旨在平衡技术领先与安全的行政令，还不遗余力地限制州政府出台人工智能安全相关举措，坚定贯彻技术领先的政策主张。
在市场导向的逻辑维度上，特朗普2.0时期意在通过系统性地供给松绑和需求放大来释放人工智能产业的活力。其核心做法可分为三个互补环节，其一是法规层面的放松，第14179号行政令一次性撤销拜登时期多项前置评估条款，要求主管机构为企业建立测试沙盒和豁免通道，并授权以”成本——收益”标准替代广义”安全、可靠、可信”要求，从根本上降低合规门槛；其二是税收与信贷激励措施，财政部对人工智能加速器和高带宽存储芯片投资给出25%的税抵免，而”大而美”法案（One Big Beautiful Bill）另拨5亿美元，用于在商务部设立”商业人工智能现代化基金”，直接补贴SaaS型人工智能解决方案的联邦部署；其三是联邦需求杠杆，把政府订单转化为首单效应来加速商业化。这一系列举措与大模型企业技术自由主义相得益彰，推动主流企业从需要强监管转向”放开手脚干”。因而，特朗普2.0时期并非简单推崇”市场万能”，而是借由制度性松绑和财政性激励并举，将人工智能赛道改造为高频迭代、快速反馈的政策试验场。
2025年3月，美国商务部将云端算力、模型权重与高端算法一并纳入许可管控范围，意在切断中国获取训练资源的外部通道。更令人惊讶的是，将人工智能研究论文、学术交流、人才流动纳入管控范围，意在构建全方位的”人工智能防火墙”。美国国务院与国土安全部宣布撤销关键STEM签证并设立”算法专家”敏感类目，招致学界对”签证武器化”的普遍担忧。2025年4月，美国又追加规则将英伟达（NVIDIA）H20、超微半导体公司（AMD）MI308等新品芯片出口中国一律改为”推定拒绝”（presumption of denial），对中国获取关键硬件资源上施加严格限制。值得注意的是，进入2025年中期，美国在保持封锁框架的同时出现了策略性松动。7月，H20与MI308芯片在附加条件下恢复对华出口，但厂商需向美政府上缴约15%的营收分成，并接受”位置验证”（location verification）和第三国转运限制等额外管控。此举表面上放宽，却在实质上通过增加交易成本和强化追踪手段，既在中国市场挤压华为等本土芯片的份额，又确保美国政府在商业与安全层面双重受益，体现了国家安全与产业利益之间的动态平衡。
A study of the PRC attempt to strong-arm Lithuania about the presence of a Taiwan representative office in the country.
This article appeared in the February 2026 issue of the Norwegian language journal Internasjonal Politikk.
Internasjonal Politikk is the leading Scandinavian-language journal in the field of international studies. The journal takes an open and broad approach to the field, focusing on what we study rather than how we study it. Internasjonal Politikk accepts articles from the entire field of international politics and international relations, but has a particular aim to be a leader in the study of Norwegian and Scandinavian foreign policy.
Norwegian University of Science and Technology, Norway
Summary
This article takes a closer look at how different countries balance their foreign policy toward the People’s Republic of China (PRC) and Taiwan. The article examines the ongoing weakening of compliance with what the author refers to as the “one-China duality” – the complex interaction between the PRC’s “one-China principle” and the different interpretations of this principle among the country’s diplomatic partners, as reflected in their different one-China policies. By examining the “one-China duality” as a semi-formal institution, the author explains the ongoing process of change as a combination of institutional “drift” and “conversion,” as conceptualized by historical institutionalists. Based on a case study of the conflict between Lithuania and the PRC related to the establishment of Taiwan’s representative office in Vilnius in 2021, the author shows that the “one-China duality” is undergoing a significant change, influenced on the one hand by the international political environment (“drift”), and on the other hand by the Lithuanian government’s strategic reorientation of its China and Taiwan-related policies (“conversion”). The author argues that these combined institutional change processes strengthen Taiwan’s status as a state, thereby changing the relationship between the PRC and Taiwan and reducing the likelihood of the peaceful reunification that remains the vision of the PRC leadership.
Since 2015, many of the People’s Republic of China’s (PRC) diplomatic partners have revised their Taiwan policies. The PRC leadership remains convinced that most countries accept the PRC as the representative of the whole of China, including Taiwan (Chong, 2023). This conviction has so far made it possible for the status quo in the coexistence between the PRC and the de facto independent, democratic Taiwan to continue. The status quo in the relationship between the PRC and Taiwan means that the PRC considers Taiwan a special province, while the Taiwanese government exercises control over the island as a de facto independent nation, without formally declaring or demanding legal independence. There is no consensus in the literature on the island’s legal status (Chen & Cohen, 2019; Chiang, 2017, 2018; Fantová, 2022; Hsieh, 2006, 2009; Wei, 1999). Most UN member states recognize the PRC as one country but maintain some form of relationship with Taiwan that, in practice, falls below the threshold for recognition as a state.
This article discusses recent changes in the intricate system that constitutes the One China duality, consisting of the One China principle (“There is but one China in the world, Taiwan is an inalienable part of China’s territory, and the Government of the People’s Republic of China is the sole legal government representing the whole of China” (Chong, 2023)), and the various One China policies of the PRC’s diplomatic partner countries. The article highlights changes in states’ Taiwan policies and discusses the effect such changes have on Taiwan’s status as a state. By conceptualizing the one-China policies as semi-formal institutions that have changed significantly over time, I argue that the changes have already had a significant impact on the behavior of political actors toward the PRC and Taiwan. In the long term, the changes have the potential to have a similar impact on the relationship between the PRC and Taiwan.
To study the ongoing institutional change processes in the One-China duality, the article takes as its starting point a single case study that traces gradual changes in Lithuania’s One-China policy. Specifically, it examines the Sino-Lithuanian conflict over Taiwan’s representative office in Vilnius in 2021. Through this in-depth case analysis, the article explains two interrelated processes: the discrete changes in Taiwan’s status as a country and the institutional changes in the “One China duality.” As I will explain in more detail, the term “One China duality” refers to the complex interplay between the PRC’s “One China principle” and its diplomatic partners’ “One China policies,” which have defined the roles of the PRC and Taiwan in international relations since 1971.
Taiwan’s opening of representative offices in the PRC’s diplomatic partner countries is not unusual. On the contrary, such quasi-embassies are generally tolerated by the PRC, despite the one-China principle. As of December 2025, in addition to its twelve embassies (大使館) and one consulate general in 11 diplomatic partner countries and the Vatican City State, Taiwan has 97 representative offices in 60 countries that have established diplomatic relations with the PRC (and not with Taiwan) (ROC Taiwan, 2023). However, the opening of Taiwan’s representative office in Vilnius can be described as an extreme case, as it represents a general shift towards Taiwan by one of the PRC’s diplomatic partner countries through a drastic upgrade of Taiwan’s representative office, a highly asymmetrical political and economic bilateral relationship between Lithuania and the PRC, and a particularly harsh reaction from the PRC. The article uses this case to illustrate the phenomenon of “extended statehood for Taiwan” through expanded relations with states that actually also have diplomatic relations with the PRC.
The article answers two research questions: How have the Lithuanian government’s political decisions in the conflict with the PRC over the establishment of Taiwan’s representative office changed Lithuania’s One China policy? And what are the implications of these changes for the One China duality? The article argues that recent developments represent a drift and conversion of Lithuania’s One China policy that expands Taiwan’s statehood and thus strengthens Taiwan’s position in the cross-strait conflict.
The article is structured as follows: In the next section, I introduce the study’s central concept. I then set the scene by outlining the historical relationship between the PRC and Taiwan, before moving on to more recent developments in the “One China policy” of the US, Japan, and the EU. This is followed by an overview of existing research literature on the topic of “one-China duality,” which identifies the knowledge gap that this article seeks to fill. I then present the theoretical perspective, historical institutionalism, and the article’s methodological approach. In the case study, I analyze the establishment of Taiwan’s representative office in Vilnius, with particular emphasis on the implications this has for Taiwan’s status as a state. I will then analyze, from a theoretical standpoint, the changes in Lithuania’s One China policy and, more generally, the One China duality. The article concludes with a summary and discussion of future prospects and questions for further study.
Conceptual clarifications
The “One China duality” is a neologism that aims to combine two previously separate interpretations of the relationship between the PRC and Taiwan: on the one hand, the PRC’s “One China principle” (一个中国原则), and on the other, the various “One China policies” of the PRC’s diplomatic partners. The PRC’s “One China principle” requires all diplomatic partners to accept that there is only one China, consisting of both the PRC and Taiwan, and that the PRC represents both on the international stage (Liff & Lin, 2022, pp. 978–979).
By accepting this principle, the PRC’s diplomatic partner countries commit themselves to following a One-China policy. Here, I follow Bush’s distinction between the PRC’s One-China principle and the US’s One-China policy (Bush, 2017, p. iii). However, while Bush only discusses the difference between the PRC and the US, in this article I distinguish between the PRC’s One-China principle and the One-China policy(ies) of all states that have diplomatic relations with the PRC.
The One-China principle and various One-China policies are rarely discussed together, and there is still no universally accepted term for this arrangement. 4 Therefore, I propose the term “One China duality” to indicate that the two aspects are interdependent rather than separate or contradictory (as in a dualism or dichotomy).
Common to the various One China policies is that they claim to accept the notion that there is only one China. It is worth noting that the “One China policy” varies considerably between states – from fully following the PRC’s interpretation to supporting Taiwan’s independence as far as possible without causing diplomatic conflicts with the PRC. A recent survey of UN member states’ attitudes toward Taiwan by the Australian Lowy Institute shows that 89 states support the Chinese government in all its claims to sovereignty over Taiwan and want “reunification,” while 93 states continue to pursue a one-China policy, while supporting the PRC’s views to varying degrees. Eleven countries recognize Taiwan as a sovereign country (Herscovitch, 2025, p. 7).
While Western research literature on the Taiwan issue does not always use these terms consistently, PRC Chinese literature generally refers to the One-China principle as a universal principle.
While the PRC’s One-China principle is a fixed rule (or a formal institution), the various countries’ One-China policies are part of each country’s foreign policy toward the PRC. The “One China policy” can be interpreted in many different ways, from truly accepting that Taiwan is a province of the PRC and treating it as such, to doing so only on paper, while quietly supporting Taiwan’s ambitions to become a de facto independent state. All One-China policies include written agreements with the PRC to accept the “One-China duality” (which can be considered formal institutions) and their own interpretations of these agreements (which function as more informal rules for foreign policy actors in each country). Both the various countries’ One-China policies and the overarching One-China duality can therefore be considered semi-formal institutions. The PRC’s One-China principle has remained essentially unchanged, while the One-China policy is in a state of “flux.” Chen Yu-Jie refers only to Taiwan’s One-China policy when she uses the term “flux” (Chen, 2022, p. 1025), but I argue that this “fluid” state also applies to other countries, such as Lithuania.
The historical relationship between the PRC and Taiwan and developments in the One-China policy
Taiwan was originally inhabited by indigenous peoples, but was occupied by the Dutch and Spanish in the mid-17th century, and then by Chinese loyalists to the Ming dynasty as it was coming to an end. In 1683, Taiwan and the surrounding islands became a colony of the Qing dynasty and remained under its control until 1895. That year, Taiwan was handed over to Japan after its victory in the Sino-Japanese War (1894/95). Japan controlled the island until the end of World War II. In 1945, Taiwan was returned to “China,” which at that time was the Republic of China (ROC), established in 1912. That same year, the ROC was one of the founding members of the United Nations, and as a victor in the war, the country was given one of the five permanent seats on the UN Security Council. But when the communists won the civil war and established the People’s Republic of China (PRC) in 1949, the defeated nationalists fled to Taiwan and continued the ROC on the island. This marked the beginning of the separation between the PRC and Taiwan. For the PRC and – at least in a long initial phase until 1991 – also for the ROC, reunification became part of the “raison d’état” (raison d’état or reason of state).
From 1945, the 132 member states of the UN recognized Taiwan in the UN context, despite the fact that some of these countries eventually recognized the PRC, including the UK and Norway in 1950 and France in 1964. During the Cold War, US President Nixon and his National Security Advisor Henry Kissinger pursued a foreign policy initiative aimed at promoting friendly relations with the PRC in order to divide the Soviet bloc (Kirby et al., 2020; Y. Wang et al., 2025). In October 1971, UN Resolution 2758 resulted in the Republic of China being replaced by the People’s Republic of China and losing its status as a sovereign state, its membership in the UN, including its permanent seat on the UN Security Council as China’s legitimate representative (Stamelos & Tsimaras, 2022). Following the resolution, Taiwan lost most of its diplomatic partners and, as of December 2025, has only 11 (Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the ROC, n.d.; World Population Review, 2025). The other 182 current UN member states have formally accepted the One China principle, which recognizes Taiwan’s special status as part of the PRC.
Recent changes in the One China policy
Despite the fact that 182 of the 193 UN member states formally recognize the one-China principle and regard Taiwan as part of the PRC, there is considerable variation in how this institution is understood (Herscovitch, 2025). Since 2015, there have been significant changes in the One China policy of several influential states. To understand these changes, it is important to distinguish between activities that alter diplomatic recognition (“diplomatic switches”) and activities that change Taiwan’s status to a certain extent, but without a corresponding change in recognition.
Diplomatic switches are often due to “checkbook diplomacy,” where countries change allegiances in exchange for foreign aid from either the PRC or Taiwan. But political reasons also play a role. For example, many socialist or left-wing countries switched their allegiance to the PRC during the pink tide in Latin America in the 2000s (Wu, 2024a). The political relationship between the PRC and Taiwan has also played an important role: during Ma Ying-jeou’s administration (2008–2016), for example, bilateral relations across the Taiwan Strait improved significantly. This contributed to no further diplomatic switches taking place during this period. In fact, the PRC did not seize the opportunity when Gambia turned against them in 2013, but waited until after Ma had ended his term to establish official relations with the African country (Wu, 2024b, p. 4).
These diplomatic exchanges were clearly to the advantage of the PRC. However, this article highlights developments below the threshold for diplomatic exchanges. Such changes can take many forms, occur at different administrative levels and in different parts of the world, and have generally proved to be to Taiwan’s advantage. To my knowledge, there are currently no studies that have examined this trend in its entirety or as individual studies. The following brief overview of political changes in Taiwan’s favor also provides only a rough impression of this trend. Although the full extent of this development is undoubtedly an important topic for research, I am more interested in the process behind it than in its actual scope. As I show below, this process has the potential to strengthen Taiwan’s international status, precisely by strengthening its status as a state.
The most common form of bilateral cooperation below the threshold of establishing diplomatic relations is the establishment of Taiwanese trade offices in countries that do not have diplomatic relations with Taiwan, and vice versa. These offices, often referred to as economic and cultural offices, serve several purposes. Among other things, they provide consular services and promote Taiwan’s political relations with the host countries (TECRO, 2024). Taiwan currently has such offices in over 100 countries.
However, since 2015, several important countries, including the US, Japan, and the EU/European states, have introduced changes to their One China policies in order to strengthen ties with Taiwan. They have expanded and intensified exchanges, trade, and cooperation with Taiwan. They have also become clearer and more open in their recognition of Taiwan’s progress in establishing and consolidating democracy and the rule of law (Forsby, 2024). As I will argue in more detail in the case study below, these changes in foreign policy strengthen Taiwan’s status as a state. In other words, by expanding and intensifying foreign policy ties with Taiwan, these states are helping Taiwan to restore its status as a state, which was largely lost when Taiwan was replaced as a UN member state by China in 1971. This weakens the acceptance of Taiwan as part of China, which is institutionalized in the “one China duality.” In the long term, this could have serious geopolitical consequences, given that China, in the form of the Anti-Secession Law, which came into force in 2005, has made it clear that if China considers all possibilities for peaceful reunification to have been exhausted, it is determined to use force to complete the “reunification” (Anti-Secession Law, 2005, art. 8).5
The US is among the boldest players when it comes to expanding relations with Taiwan and thus “stretching” its One China policy. During his first term, President Donald Trump not only called Taiwanese President Tsai Ing-wen to congratulate her on her election victory in 2016, but he also introduced the Taiwan Travel Act in 2018, which allows high-ranking U.S. officials to visit Taiwan and vice versa (U.S. Congress, 2018). This law broke a previous taboo within the one-China duality (Kuehn, 2021).
After decades of “strategic ambiguity,” i.e., deliberate vagueness about the US response in the event of a Chinese attack on Taiwan, the next president, Joe Biden, clearly emphasized his commitment to defend Taiwan. For example, during a press conference in Tokyo in May 2022, he responded to a journalist’s question about whether he would be willing to engage militarily to defend Taiwan by saying, “Yes, that’s the commitment we made” (Smith, 2022). However, his advisors were always quick to ensure that the public did not take his words too literally (Smith, 2022). At the same time, the US has continuously sold weapons to Taiwan, from the 1950s to the present day (Grzegorzewski, 2022; C. W. Mahoney, 2025; News Agencies, 2025). In March 2023, President Biden invited Taiwan to the “Summit for Democracy.” This was the first time the island had been invited to a multilateral event as if it were a sovereign state. Taiwan and the US are also negotiating a bilateral trade agreement and have applied to join the comprehensive and progressive Trans-Pacific Partnership agreement (Keegan & Churchman, 2022, pp. 79–83). An article in the New York Times describes US policy toward Taiwan as “quiet, incremental moves to establish official relations with Taiwan” – and considers it “reckless” and “meaningfully increasing the risk of world war” (Beinart, 2021).
Under Trump II, the signals are mixed, as is true in other areas of his foreign policy. Two further Taiwan-related laws have been passed so far: the Taiwan Non-Discrimination Act (2024), which “requires measures to support Taiwan’s participation in the International Monetary Fund (IMF)” (US Congress, 2024) and the Taiwan Assurance Implementation Act, which was passed by the House of Representatives in January 2025 (US Congress, 2025). The latter requires more frequent reporting on, and reflection on, the US relationship with Taiwan to Congress. Furthermore, it emphasizes Taiwan’s democratically elected government and stresses the need to identify “opportunities and plans to lift self-imposed restrictions on relations with Taiwan” (US Congress, 2025). In September 2025, the Senate proposed the Taiwan Energy Security and Anti-Embargo Act (Taiwan Energy Security and Anti-Embargo Act, 2025), which, if passed, would ensure that the US government supplies more LNG to Taiwan, thereby making the island more independent (Bardenhagen, 2025).
There are also several signs of a less favorable US policy toward Taiwan. For example, Trump halted the delivery of a military aid package to Taiwan worth more than $400 million because he did not want to jeopardize upcoming talks with PRC President Xi on a trade agreement. Meetings between US and Taiwanese defense authorities were canceled (Robertson & Nakashima, 2025), and US statements on Taiwan policy in all directions were put on hold (The White House, 2025). The Trump administration advised Taiwanese President Lai not to stop over in the US on his trip to Latin America (Whiton, 2025). In November 2025, the US and China finally reached an “agreement.”
Trump’s unpredictable policy toward Ukraine has caused many Taiwanese to doubt whether the US would support Taiwan in the event of a crisis in the Taiwan Strait (Bardenhagen, 2025). In an op-ed, Christian Whiton, former senior advisor in the US State Department during the second Bush and first Trump administrations, points out that Taiwan’s ruling party, the Democratic Progressive Party, “lost Trump” by promoting “left-wing cultural issues,” being “indifferent to American business, frivolous about defense, and unwilling to reduce the trade deficit” (Whiton, 2025).
The pattern seems to be that President Donald Trump’s political choices are based less on strategic thinking in geopolitical terms and more on economic results when it comes to bilateral relations, including with Taiwan. This can also be seen in the tariffs that President Trump has imposed on Taiwan. As of December 2025, US importers will have to pay a 20 percent tariff on Taiwanese goods. The tariffs have not been negotiated or agreed bilaterally, but hit Taiwan’s economy even harder than its equally US-friendly neighbors Japan and South Korea, which only received tariffs of 15 percent (Bardenhagen, 2025). In the current administration, both tendencies, those favorable and those harmful to Taiwan, exist side by side.
Other states and actors have also advocated for changes in relations with Taiwan. The Japanese government has publicly announced that it will support the US in defending Taiwan against an attack from mainland China (The United States & Japan, 2023). On November 7, 2025, Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi called for action in a speech to the Japanese parliament, stating that the use of force against Taiwan by China could be perceived as a “survival threatening situation” (Dang, 2025).
The EU, and in particular the European Parliament, has also recently expressed a clear desire to strengthen ties with Taiwan (Prado, 2022). Since 2019, the EU has become increasingly concerned about Beijing’s growing assertiveness. The pandemic and the war in Ukraine have led to closer ties between the EU and Taiwan, which is seen as a like-minded partner in the Indo-Pacific region (E. Wang & Camroux, 2022). Brown observes this shift towards deeper unofficial engagement with Taiwan and believes that “the edges have started to fray” on the EU’s One China policy (Brown, 2022, p. 1001). Since 2019, the European Parliament has adopted nearly “forty important resolutions containing a number of Taiwan-friendly provisions” (Taipei Representative Office in the EU and Belgium, 2025). Furthermore, the EU and Taiwan have been working on a bilateral investment agreement (Hsieh, 2020), although this has not yet been successful (Malinconi, 2023).
Germany is also discussing the possibility of intensifying relations with Taiwan in several areas. The recently published China strategy mentions the intention to expand relations with Taiwan within the framework of the One China policy. In addition, the policy document repeatedly mentions the demand that Taiwan be allowed to participate in international organizations (Die Bundesregierung, 2023). In 2021, the Petitions Committee of the German Bundestag considered a petition calling for Germany to establish diplomatic relations with Taiwan (Deutscher Bundestag, 2021). Although the committee concluded that Germany could not do so in light of its One China policy, it emphasized that the German government is willing to strengthen relations with Taiwan, provided that this does not involve diplomatic recognition. Under the previous coalition government (2021–2024), there was a slight increase in the number of parliamentary trips and high-level visits to Taiwan (Deutscher Bundestag, 2022). It is worth noting that the visit by the liberal Minister of Research and Education in 2023 was the first ministerial visit since 1997 (NTSC, 2023).
In Central and Eastern Europe (CEE), sympathy for Taiwan is also growing. This is reflected in an increase in economic cooperation that has “evolved to approach, albeit not reach, the level of diplomatic relations” in the Czech Republic, Hungary, and Poland (Szunomár, 2024, p. 191). During the COVID-19 pandemic, Lithuania, the Czech Republic, Poland, and Slovakia sent vaccines to Taiwan (Szunomár, 2024, p. 193). Latvia was the first of the three Baltic countries to open a representative office for Taiwan. Estonia is in the process of doing the same. All three Baltic states have left the cooperation between the PRC and the SEE countries, formerly known as “16 + 1.” Some observers expect the Czech Republic to be the next country to leave this group (Hulička, 2023). The country has intensified its relations with Taiwan since 2018 (McVicar, 2023).
As this brief overview shows, governments and/or parliaments in many influential countries are working to strengthen relations with Taiwan as a democratic alternative to an increasingly assertive and authoritarian PRC.
The One China duality – a literature review
Several researchers have pointed out that there is no consensus between the PRC and other states when it comes to explaining variations in the One-China policy. Chong (2023) uses Lee Tzu-wen’s (1996) nine-category system to categorize states’ One-China policies, which range from recognizing the PRC as the sole government of China, including Taiwan as one of its provinces, to recognizing the ROC. Countries use different formulations to avoid recognizing the PRC’s claim to Taiwan, but most accept the PRC as the sole legitimate government of China, including Taiwan. Herscovitch (2025) makes a similar attempt to categorize the variations in the one-China policy by distinguishing between five types of one-China policy.6
Only a few publications have addressed the One-China duality as an independent system. Among the exceptions are six articles in a special issue on the One-China framework published by Liff and Lin (2022) on the occasion of the 50th anniversary of US President Nixon’s visit to the PRC. In the introductory article, Lin and Liff explain that the inherent ambiguities of the One China arrangement, established in the 1970s, are becoming increasingly difficult to maintain. Although this arrangement has ensured peace in the Taiwan Strait for fifty years, Taiwan’s stable democracy and de facto independence are becoming increasingly difficult to ignore, especially given the PRC’s growing authoritarianism and assertiveness in denying Taiwan’s status as a state. Brown’s contribution (2022) discusses how this tension is playing out in Europe, where governments are increasingly seeking to engage with Taiwan despite their one-China policy.
Chen (2022) argues that the one-China framework is also undergoing significant change in Taiwan; the pragmatic solution to the Taiwan question is increasingly being questioned by younger Taiwanese. Kastner et al. (2022) found in their study that countries with strong ties to the US and a higher degree of economic development were significantly more likely to support Taiwan’s participation in the World Health Organization (WHO), despite Taiwan not having the status of an independent state. Liff’s (2022) study also highlights the ambiguity of the One China policy of the PRC’s partner countries, using Japan as an example. Japan normalized its relations with the PRC relatively early, in 1972, without explicitly recognizing the PRC’s claim to Taiwan. In the last article, Lin (2022) emphasizes (once again) how crucial it is to avoid raising the central issues of the one-China duality in order to maintain peace and the status quo across the Taiwan Strait. Changes in the one-China duality could have a potentially major impact on relations between Taiwan and the PRC. Keegan and Churchman (2022) predict that Beijing will increase pressure not only on Taiwan, but also on its potential partners. Zhao (2023) shows that the PRC has long used brinkmanship to maintain distance from Taiwan. He predicts that reunification is likely in the near future.
There is also little literature on what characterizes the one-China duality. Liff and Lin conceptualize it as an “informal institution,” as a “rule […] of the game which, though unwritten, shapes many of the ‘real’ incentives and constraints that underlie [leaders’] political behavior” (2022, p. 981). Although this article considers the One China duality to be a semi-formal institution rather than an informal institution, I agree with these authors that institutionalism is useful in analyzing the One China duality. Here, I choose a slightly different approach, based on historical institutionalism, to study changes in the One China duality as a semi-formal institution, as explained in the next section.
A review of existing research shows that there is a lack of analysis of how the One China duality has developed in recent times and how this development can be explained analytically. This article contributes to the understanding of this development through a case study of the establishment of Taiwan’s representative office in Lithuania.
Theoretical perspective, research questions, and methodology
This article is based on historical institutionalism, which is a branch of institutionalism that differs clearly from the two other main branches: rational choice institutionalism and sociological institutionalism (Hall & Taylor, 1996). Institutions are often defined as “rules and procedures (both formal and informal) that structure social interaction by constraining and enabling actors’ behavior” (Helmke & Levitsky, 2004, p. 727).
The historical institutionalism of Kathleen Thelen, James Mahoney, Sven Steinmo, Wolfgang Streeck, and others has contributed to expanding the theory that conceptualizes incremental institutional change. Thelen’s (1999) innovative contribution to social science was to introduce the idea that institutional change and institutional stability are two sides of the same coin. She further postulated that institutions are not limited to the binary choice between no change and abrupt change. Institutions can change suddenly, with one institution being replaced by another, or they can change gradually and incrementally (J. Mahoney, 2017).
According to Mahoney and Thelen (2009), there are four aspects of institutions that can be changed incrementally. First, compliance with institutions can be changed. Second, those who design an institution cannot foresee all possible future applications of the institution. Third, institutions are rooted in assumptions that are often only implicit and can therefore be interpreted in different ways by the institution’s various stakeholders. Fourth, institutions are usually designed by one person or group of people and applied and enforced by others. This opens up further interpretation and distortion of the institution, leading to its gradual change.
Mahoney and Thelen (2009) and Streeck and Thelen (2005) describe four forms of institutional change: displacement, layering, drift, and conversion. layering, drift, conversion). Displacement (displacement) involves existing rules being replaced by new ones. Layering (layering) involves new rules being introduced in addition to or alongside existing rules. Drift (drift) means that the effect of existing rules changes due to changes in the environment. Finally, conversion (conversion) refers to “changed enactment of existing rules due to their strategic redeployment” (J. Mahoney & Thelen, 2009, pp. 15–16).
In this article, I conceptualize the One China policies and the One China duality as semi-formal institutions. Semi-formal institutions can be understood as institutions (norms and rules) that are informal in the sense that they are not applied consistently. Nevertheless, they have certain characteristics in common with formal institutions.8 Streeck and Thelen understand formal institutions as obligations that are formalized, i.e., “created, communicated, and enforced through channels widely accepted as official” (Helmke & Levitsky, 2004, p. 727). The implementation of the rules is expected by the general public and enforced by persons who have neither formulated nor adopted them (Streeck & Thelen, 2005, p. 11). Informal institutions are “socially shared rules, usually unwritten, that are created, communicated, and enforced outside of officially sanctioned channels” (Helmke & Levitsky, 2004, p. 727). Mahoney and Thelen (2009) identify compliance with these rules as the key variable for institutional change.
There is no international law regulating the one-China duality. Official sources in the PRC consider the one-China principle (一个中国原则) to be a “fundamental norm in international relations and the general consensus of the international community” (Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the PRC, 2020), which would be an argument for considering the duality a formal institution. However, as we have seen above, One-China policies are less institutionalized than the principle. They are formal institutions in the sense that they are based on formalized agreements and procedures that facilitate interaction between the states concerned and the PRC, in particular through bilateral joint declarations that are usually published when diplomatic relations with the PRC are established.
At the same time, the One China policy also consists of informal elements, particularly in the form of a wide range of interpretations. Although Streeck and Thelen explicitly point out that interpretation is also part of the formal institutions (2005, p. 14), the individual states’ understanding and implementation of the One China policy varies considerably. They range from strict adherence to the One China principle as understood by the PRC, to testing the limits within well-established frameworks, for example by establishing one or more “Taipei Representative Offices,” to stretching the rules a little further by selling arms to Taiwan (as the US does) or opening a Taiwanese Representative Office (as Lithuania has done), to crossing the boundaries of the one-China duality and establishing official diplomatic relations with the Republic of China and severing ties with the PRC, or vice versa.
Liff and Lin refer to the One China duality (which they call the One China framework) as an “informal institution” and define it as “the rules of the game” which, although unwritten, shape “many of the ‘real’ incentives and constraints that underlie [leaders’] political behavior” (2022, p. 981). However, they overlook the above-mentioned formalized institutional elements of the One China duality. Therefore, in this article, I argue that the One China policy is best conceptualized as a semi-formal institution that combines formal and informal features.
Based on this conceptualization, I further argue that the One China policy, as a semi-formal institution, has changed significantly over time, and that this change has already had a significant impact on the behavior of political actors, and that in the long term – may have the potential to have a similarly significant impact on the relationship between the parties across the Taiwan Strait, or even “add up to [a] fundamental transformation” of it (J. Mahoney & Thelen, 2009, p. 2).
As the case study shows, Lithuania’s One China policy has undergone such a change. While formal aspects have largely remained the same, informal aspects have gradually changed.
To contribute to the research literature on recent changes in the One-China policy, based on the theoretical framework for institutional change described above, the research question in this article is twofold:
How have the Lithuanian government’s policy decisions in the conflict with the PRC over the establishment of Taiwan’s representative office changed Lithuania’s One-China policy? What are the implications of these changes for the One-China duality?
Lithuania’s relationship with Taiwan’s representative office has been chosen as a case study from a broader universe of cases where governments in various states have recently expanded their relations with Taiwan, despite their stated commitment to the one-China policy, as described earlier. The Lithuania case is considered here to be an extreme case for four reasons. First, Lithuania has generally been more openly opposed to political influence from Beijing and has worked harder for closer cooperation with Taiwan than most other EU member states (see the history of bilateral relations below). Second, the described incident involving the establishment of Taiwan’s representative office in 2021 is extreme in terms of the choice of the office’s official title.
As described above, other countries have also established representative offices for Taiwan, but they usually avoid using “Taiwan” in the name so as not to upgrade it symbolically and diplomatically. Third, the Lithuania case is also extreme in the sense that there is a very unbalanced relationship between Lithuania and the PRC in terms of size and international political and economic weight, which the PRC can use in its retaliation policy. Fourth, the PRC’s reaction to the establishment of the representative office has also been remarkably harsh. For these reasons, the case allows us, like a magnifying glass, to analyze the process of institutional change of the one-China duality, which is less subtle here than in the other cases mentioned.
Extreme cases (Flyvbjerg, 2006, pp. 229–230) provide theoretical insight by highlighting very pronounced or even paradigmatic (Gerring, 2006, p. 101) examples. This highlights dynamics that may be less apparent in the other cases mentioned. By examining this extreme case, it will be possible to identify and analyze the specific types of incremental institutional change that are underway, i.e., drift and conversion. The goal was to achieve empirical depth and a thorough understanding of the issues, rather than to seek representativeness.
Case Study: The Change in Lithuania’s One-China Policy in the Sino-Lithuanian Conflict over Taiwan’s Representative Office in Vilnius in 2021
In this case study, I will first summarize Lithuania’s relationship with the PRC and Taiwan, then analyze the situation of Taiwan’s representative office in Vilnius in 2021, and finally discuss how this case has affected Taiwan’s status as a state.
Lithuania’s relations with the PRC and Taiwan
Lithuania was annexed by the Soviet Union in 1940. After the end of the Cold War, Lithuania declared its independence on March 11, 1990. In 1991, the PRC recognized Lithuania, and the two countries signed the “Joint Communiqué on the Establishment of Diplomatic Relations” between the PRC and Lithuania. As is customary in diplomatic relations with the PRC, Lithuania recognized in the declaration the PRC government as the sole legitimate government of China and that Taiwan was an inalienable part of the sovereign Chinese state. The Lithuanian government also promised not to establish official contacts with Taiwan (The Office of the Charge’d Affaires of the PRC in the Republic of Lithuania, 2004).
Since 1991, bilateral relations have fluctuated between restraint and mistrust on the one hand, and cooperation and confidence-building measures on the other. The period prior to the establishment of Taiwan’s representative office, between 2012 and 2021, was a time of intensified relations between the PRC and Lithuania. Lithuania joined the PRC’s “16 + 1” initiative as early as 2012. This regional forum brought Central and Eastern European countries (including EU members and non-members) into contact and dialogue with the PRC. There were high hopes for investments in Lithuania, including in the port of Klaipeda (Brînză, 2019).
At the same time, mistrust prevailed, particularly on the Lithuanian side. One reason for this was Lithuania’s experience with communism, namely the occupation by the Soviet Union, followed by the difficulties the state encountered when it declared independence from Russia after the Cold War (Zeneli, 2025). Another reason was that Lithuania, due to its short history of bilateral relations with the FRC, had very little experience in dealing with Beijing (Boruta & Pinelytė, 2023). Finally, Lithuania had little to lose by taking a tougher stance toward China, as its economy was not particularly dependent on China (Cutler & Wester, 2024).
The first setback occurred in 2013, when then-President Dalia Grybauskaitė met with the Dalai Lama in Lithuania (Boruta, 2021). The PRC responded by “freezing” official cooperation until 2015. In 2016, Lithuania officially joined the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI). But in 2019, the relationship suffered another blow, the “August 23 incident”: In Vilnius, diplomats from the PRC participated in a counter-demonstration against a demonstration for a free Tibet and Hong Kong (Andrijauskas, 2021, p. 14). Lithuania considered this a serious violation of civil rights on Lithuanian soil and protested. During the COVID-19 pandemic, Lithuania “once again aroused the wrath of the PRC” by calling for Taiwan’s admission to the World Health Organization and insisting on a thorough investigation into the origin of the virus (Andrijauskas, 2021, p. 15). Lithuania had also donated vaccines to Taiwan, invited Hong Kong protesters to apply for visas, and expressed security concerns about Xiaomi mobile phones from the PRC (Lau, 2021a; Reuters, 2021).
Furthermore, Lithuanians had a special interest in non-communist Taiwan almost from the very beginning. In 1998, the Seimas, the Lithuanian parliament, established a parliamentary group for relations with Taiwan. At the end of 2020, the newly elected Lithuanian government under Prime Minister Ingrida Šimonytė committed to a “values-based foreign policy,” including closer ties with Taiwan (Andrijauskas, 2021; Boruta, 2021). In March 2021, Lithuanian MP Dovilė Šakalienė and three Lithuanian diplomats were blacklisted by the PRC as part of a broader response to EU-level sanctions against PRC officials linked to the internment camps for Uyghurs in Xinjiang. In May 2021, the Lithuanian parliament passed a resolution condemning the “genocide of the Uyghurs” and “crimes against humanity” in the PRC. Lithuania’s intelligence service described the PRC as a security threat (Andrijauskas, 2021, p. 14). As a result, Lithuania began to review its relations with the PRC and diversify its foreign policy. In 2021, the government decided to withdraw from the then “17 + 1” initiative (Lau, 2021b) and called on the other participants to follow suit (Andrijauskas, 2021, p. 14).
These foreign policy developments show that the continuous changes in Lithuania’s One-China policy were partly due to what is known in historical institutionalism as “strategic repositioning” or “conversion,” as well as external developments known as “drift.” The country adapted its foreign policy toward the PRC in accordance with its shared identity with democratic Taiwan, as well as within the interpretive limits of the one-China duality with China (conversion). A general change in Western attitudes toward China (Breslin & Mattlin, 2025) contributed to this change.
Taiwan Representative Office
The decision for Lithuania and Taiwan to open mutual representative offices in each other’s capitals was announced in July 2021 (Shattuck, 2021). In the summer of 2021, the plan to open a representative office for the Republic of Korea under the name “Taiwan Representative Office” was revealed (Mačikėnaitė, 2022, p. 67). The office was inaugurated on November 18, 2021, and opened fully in November 2022 (Gerdžiūnas, 2023; Huang, 2021). The office’s responsibilities include consular services and promoting ties with Taiwan in Lithuania in cooperation with the “Taipei Mission” in Latvia, which covers all the Baltic states (Huang, 2021). Eric Huang (黃鈞耀), who previously served as Taiwan’s representative in Latvia, has been appointed as the first representative of Taiwan’s representative office in Lithuania, according to the Taiwanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs (Ministry of Foreign Affairs ROC (Taiwan), 2021).
The formalities and organization surrounding the establishment of the representative office were handled by Lithuania’s Ministry of Economy and Innovation. In addition, employees of Lithuania’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs were also involved. Different sources have different views on the division of labor between the two ministries. Strong involvement by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs suggests that the representative office is more of a diplomatic representation, while stronger involvement by the Ministry of Economy and Innovation suggests that it is more trade-oriented. Several sources agree that trade and investment agreements with Taipei were linked to the implementation of this project (Gerdžiūnas, 2023). According to a media report, these economic incentives included a USD 1 billion loan fund for joint business projects between Taiwan and Lithuania and a USD 200 million investment fund for Lithuania’s industrial sector. However, the latter was later redirected to projects in several Central and Eastern European countries (LRT, 2022b). The negotiations were tough. Lithuania attempted to delay the establishment of its own trade delegation in Taiwan in order to gain some leverage in the negotiations (Gerdžiūnas, 2023).
Lithuania’s trade representation began operations in Taipei in September 2022. Paulius Lukauskas became head of the office (Ministry of Economy and Innovation of the Republic of Lithuania, 2022).10 Publicly available information suggests that he has not previously been a diplomat. This suggests that the representation was managed by the Ministry of Economy and Innovation. The name of the office is “Lithuanian Trade Representation Office in Taipei” – without any specific reference to Taiwan as a whole (Gerdžiūnas, 2023).
The news was announced by Taiwan’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs (Reuters, 2022). Although the matter was not publicly discussed, the Taiwanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs’ deep involvement suggests that the establishment of the representative office was treated as a diplomatic matter rather than a trade-related activity, which would normally be handled exclusively by the Taiwanese Ministry of Economic Affairs’ International Trade Administration (“Overseas Offices,” n.d.). At the opening of the office, Taiwan announced that it would “invest more than €10 million ($9.98 million) in chip manufacturing in Lithuania” and help build semiconductor technology expertise by offering funded scholarships to selected Lithuanian candidates (Khaliq, 2022). In addition, Taiwan’s Export-Import Bank and Lithuania’s Investment and Business Guarantees Ltd agreed in September 2022 to guarantee loans to Lithuanian importers of Taiwanese products (Chung, 2022).
The establishment of Taiwan’s representative office also became a controversial issue in Lithuania. Gabrielius Landsbergis, a member of the center-right Homeland Union party and foreign minister in the Lithuanian government until 2024, is one of the main advocates of the office. President Gitanas Nausėda, a former member of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union before Lithuania’s independence and now an independent politician, is the most prominent opponent of the agreement with Taiwan. He is not opposed to the establishment of the representative office itself, but criticizes its name (Bloomberg, 2022; Euronews, 2022; Milne, 2022). Together with Nausėda, Prime Minister Ingrida Šimonytė reportedly declined to receive the visit of Taiwan’s parliamentary president in July 2022, suggesting that she too distances herself from the arrangement, or at least does not wish to exacerbate the conflict with the PRC that has arisen as a result (LRT, 2022b).
Expansion of Taiwan’s status as a state
The case of Taiwan’s representative office in Lithuania can be interpreted as a continuation of the expansion of Taiwan’s status as a state and thus as a gradual change in the “one China duality.”
From the outset, it was made clear that the name of Taiwan’s office in Vilnius would be “Taiwanese Representative Office.” This is an unusual choice for a de facto representation that must remain below the threshold of an official diplomatic representation. Taiwan’s official embassies bear the official name of the entity – the Republic of China (中華民國) – as used in its constitution. However, the representative offices do not usually have “Republic of China” or “Taiwan” in their names. They have other names, which usually combine Taiwan’s capital Taipei with a type of office (for example, representative office (代表處) and one or more additional words, such as trade, commercial, or cultural. There are only two cases where the representative office uses the name Taiwan in its title: Somaliland, which has unrecognized status similar to Taiwan itself, and now Lithuania.
The name of the office was a topic of negotiation between Lithuania and Taiwan. While the geographical part, “Taivaniečių,” means “the Taiwanese people” rather than “Taiwan” in Lithuanian (Mačikėnaitė, 2022, p. 67), the English translation—Taiwanese—can refer to the people or to the entity. In the Chinese language version, however, this makes no difference. It simply means “Taiwan” (臺灣). The geographical part of the name therefore does not cross the red line between an unofficial representative office and an official diplomatic representation, but it undoubtedly refers more to Taiwan as a state than “Taipei” would. This choice of name can therefore be understood as a “potential first step toward eventually recognizing Taiwan as a separate country” (Lau, 2021a) and thus an extension of its state status. Furthermore, it can also be seen as a sign of institutional conversion, i.e., a modified implementation of existing rules due to their strategic application.11
It is unclear whether Lithuanian negotiators understood, cared about, or were even aware of the nuances and diplomatic implications of the office’s nameplate (Gerdžiūnas, 2023). For Taiwan, however, these details are important because the wording can be used to push the boundaries of what is possible in terms of achieving statehood. The newly appointed representative made it clear that it was the Taiwanese side that was pushing these boundaries: “In a February 2022 meeting with Canadian reporters, Taiwanese representative Eric Jiun-Yaw Huang was blunt when asked whether the Chinese translation of the embassy’s name was discussed with the Lithuanian side – ‘No,’ he answered” (Gerdžiūnas, 2023).
As we shall see below, the PRC’s reaction to the establishment of the representative office was quite strong. Examining whether the boundaries of non-statehood have been expanded elsewhere may help to shed light on why the PRC’s reaction was so strong.
One reason may be that the representative office shows other signs of converting to the one-China duality. The functions and appearance of a representative office are important indicators of whether it is a full diplomatic representation under the 1961 Vienna Convention. According to Article 20 of the Convention, a representation shall use the flag and emblem of the sending state on its premises and means of transport. Publicly available photographs of the representative office show that these insignia are used inside the office premises. 13 The Convention also stipulates the functions that a mission shall perform. These include representing the sending state, protecting its interests, negotiating on its behalf, and performing consular duties. 14 Consular services and “promoting Taiwan’s relations with the Baltic states” are indeed part of the representative office’s mandate and thus extend Taiwan’s statehood (Huang, 2021). At the same time, all of Taiwan’s representative offices in other countries have similar legal status and functions. The PRC’s reaction is difficult to explain on this basis.
To sum up, the most significant deviation from “normal practice” is the name of the representative office, which can be interpreted as an attempt to expand Taiwan’s status as a state, in other words, to “convert” the one-China duality as an institution. In addition, any intensification of contact and exchange with Taiwan and any increase in the (already significant) number of quasi-embassies with consular functions around the world will expand Taiwan’s status as a state and change the content and interpretation of the one-China duality. This is particularly true in an EU member state.
The operation and conversion of the one-China duality and its significance for Taiwan’s status
The unwritten rule governing PRC’s tolerance of Taiwanese representative offices in its diplomatic partner countries is that the offices do not exceed the threshold for becoming diplomatic representations under the Vienna Convention (1961), which would give Taiwan the status of a recognized state.
Status of Taiwan’s statehood
From the PRC’s perspective, Taiwan is a province of the PRC. The Republic of China (Taiwan) effectively ceased to exist as a sovereign state when it was replaced by the PRC in the UN Security Council in 1971. The most fundamental thing that the ROC lacks in order to be recognized as a state is international recognition as a sovereign state.
There are two generally accepted ways of assessing an entity’s status as a state: First, according to Jellinek’s doctrine of the three elements, it is necessary to determine whether the entity in question (in this case, Taiwan) possesses the three fundamental elements of a state, namely a territory, a people, and a public authority (Jellinek, 1914, pp. 384–434). Second, according to the 1934 Montevideo Convention, the status of an entity as a state is assessed on the basis of its ability to enter into relations with other states.15 The determination of these criteria must always be political, as there are no theoretical legal criteria for assessing these elements.
Below, I will examine these four criteria and their applicability to Taiwan one by one. First, it is generally undisputed that Taiwan/ROC has a national territory comprising the islands of Taiwan, Penghu, Kinmen, and several smaller islands (Petzold, 2007, pp. 66–67). However, as mentioned earlier, this is a political issue. From the PRC’s point of view, this territory was returned in 1945 by the Japanese occupiers to the Republic of China, which was founded in 1912 and of which the PRC considers itself the legal successor. It can therefore be argued that the territory belongs to “China,” of which the PRC is the representative government. The often-repeated argument in the media that “Taiwan has never been part of the People’s Republic of China”16 is true, but misleading because it does not answer the question of whether the islands belong to the PRC as the successor government to the ROC.
Secondly, ROC meets the criterion of a “people” in terms of inhabitants. However, there is conflicting evidence as to whether these inhabitants constitute a “people” in the sense of a shared identity and sense of belonging to the territory. The often-cited survey by the Election Study Center at National Chengchi University (Election Study Center National Chengchi University, 2025a, 2025b) shows that the number of people who consider themselves purely Taiwanese has increased steadily, while the number of Taiwanese who consider themselves purely Chinese or both Taiwanese and Chinese has declined significantly since the mid-1990s (see Figure 1). However, this strong sense of belonging does not translate into a desire for independence. The number of Taiwanese who prefer immediate independence has always been relatively low. The majority prefer the status quo (see Figure 2).
Figure 1. Changes in Taiwanese Chinese/Taiwanese identity in surveys conducted by the Election Study Center at National Chengchi University, Taipei, Taiwan (2025b).Figure 2. Changes in Taiwanese attitudes toward reunification and independence, as measured in surveys conducted by the Election Study Center at National Chengchi University, Taipei, Taiwan (2025a).
Given the constant threat of violent “reunification” if Taiwan declares independence, it is impossible to determine whether the low result in the independence question reflects the real will of the participants, or to what extent it is influenced by fear of violent consequences (Jiang, 2017). At the same time, other surveys that attempt to take this criticism into account, such as the TNSS survey (A. Wang, 2024), show similar results.
Thirdly, according to Jellinek, a state needs public authority (Staatsgewalt), which is the power to govern. This is based on a system of rules (e.g., a legal system, legislation, and judiciary) and state organs that implement state authority (government, administration, and police) (Jellinek, 1914, p. 427 ff.). Taiwan has a fully functioning state apparatus, including legislative, executive, and judicial authorities (Porsche-Ludwig, 2025; Sun, 2014), as well as a fully developed legal system that has been influenced by Republican Chinese, Japanese, and German law (Lo, 2006). Since the first democratic elections in 1996, elections and subsequent changes of government have been conducted according to democratic principles (Grano, 2023; Wang, 2002).
The fact that Taiwan’s representative offices, such as the one in Lithuania, enjoy the same privileges as embassies and consulates of diplomatic partner countries in their host countries, and that Taiwan reciprocates these rights to its counterparts in Taiwan, is another example of Taiwan’s ability to establish relations with other countries.
In summary, from a political/pre-legal point of view, the criteria of national territory, people, and public authority present a mixed picture, with national territory and people not pointing unequivocally in the direction of statehood. However, the criterion of public authority is a clear argument for Taiwan’s status as a state. The same applies to Taiwan’s relations with other countries, which constitute a deep and broad network of ties that go far beyond the small number of only eleven full diplomatic relations. At the same time, from the PRC’s point of view, Taiwan is a province with a special status.
Institutional changes
The Lithuanian case is a good example of how changes in one state’s One China policy affect the One China duality. With the help of Mahoney and Thelen’s conceptualization of institutional change, the Lithuanian case can help explain how this process of change works. First, compliance with the One China duality has changed. As the Lithuanian case shows, even an EU member state can reinterpret its One China policy or its compliance with the One China principle, thereby significantly expanding its boundaries.
Secondly, Mahoney and Thelen have proposed two modes of institutional change that are particularly useful for understanding what is happening with the One China duality today: drift and conversion. “Drift” means that existing rules change as a result of changes in the environment, combined with the actors not responding to these changes. In this case, the PRC continues to insist on the One China principle and expects to be able to use pressure, such as economic sanctions, to encourage compliance. Currently, however, the FRK’s diplomatic partners are actively working to diversify their trade relations and reduce their dependence on the economic superpower. This encouraged Lithuania and will lead to a further weakening of the One China duality, as the old means of pressure become less effective.
Conversion refers to “the changed application of existing rules due to their strategic repositioning.” This occurs when the institution remains the same but is reinterpreted by those who implement it. It happens because actors actively “exploit the inherent ambiguities of institutions” (J. Mahoney & Thelen, 2010, p. 15 ff.). Lithuania demonstrates this by expanding the boundaries of what is legally possible by establishing a de facto, but not de jure, diplomatic representation, somewhat more boldly than other countries have done in the past.
The change means that the PRC’s room for maneuver has been narrowed, while the room for maneuver has been expanded for countries that want closer ties with Taiwan, and for Taiwan itself, which seeks to strengthen its own state status. As discussed above, Taiwan’s status is already quite close to full statehood. For a Taiwanese government that appears to want to push the boundaries of its status toward full recognition as an independent state without confronting the PRC (too much), the best strategy is to win as many international supporters as possible and to gather facts that can be used as evidence of Taiwan’s status as a state.
Implications
The significance of the change described in the case study is that China’s room for maneuver is shrinking, while the room for maneuver of the states that want closer ties with Taiwan and of Taiwan itself to push for greater statehood is expanding. The PRC’s and the EU’s reactions to the case of Taiwan’s representative office in Vilnius illustrate these two implications.
PRC’s reactions
China’s reaction to the establishment of Taiwan’s representative office in Lithuania was harsh. Beijing downgraded its diplomatic relations with Lithuania by reducing its presence in Vilnius from ambassador level to charge d’affaires (Mačikėnaitė, 2022, p. 55), the lowest of the three diplomatic levels (Wong, 2021). 2022, p. 55), the lowest of the three diplomatic levels (Wong, 2021), recalled its ambassador, and urged the other side to do the same (Andrijauskas, 2021, p. 16). The PRC suspended the issuance of visas to Lithuanians in 2021 (Bermingham, 2024). Apparently, China also removed Lithuania from its customs register, blocked shipments, and imposed de facto trade sanctions (Gerdžiūnas, 2023), but this lasted only a few days (LRT, 2021a). The PRC imposed sanctions on selected Lithuanian products such as beer and timber (Boruta, 2021), and blocked goods from companies in other EU countries that used Lithuanian components, although this was not stated openly (Lau & Aarup, 2022). Lithuanian applications to export food products to the PRC were also rejected. Freight train traffic to and from Lithuania as part of the PRC’s Belt and Road Initiative was suspended (Lau, 2021a),20 and in December 2021, the PRC government pressured international companies to leave Lithuania (Gerdžiūnas, 2023).21
In addition, the PRC sanctioned the Deputy Minister of Transport and Communications, Agnė Vaiciukevičiūtė, for traveling to Taiwan (Khaliq, 2022). A cultural exchange program launched in 2016 was halted, and “Chinese media ran an anti-Lithuanian campaign that damaged Lithuania’s reputation among the Chinese public” (Boruta, 2021). Finally, in a threatening gesture, the PLA flew 63 military aircraft over Taiwan on the same day that Lithuania opened its representative office in Taipei (Khaliq, 2022). In addition, Communist Party media wrote threateningly that China, Russia, and Belarus should join forces to punish Lithuania (Global Times, 2021).
Other, unrelated factors have probably contributed to the harsh reaction from the PRC. Around four months earlier, China had been sanctioned by the European Parliament for human rights violations in Xinjiang (Council of the European Union, 2021). China responded on the same day (March 22) with sanctions against EU institutions and individuals, including Dovilė Šakalienė, a member of the Lithuanian Parliament (LRT, 2021b). Again, in response to this, the ratification of the EU-China Comprehensive Agreement on Investment was put on hold by the European Parliament (European Parliament, 2021).
It is worth noting that Lithuania has much less to lose than other EU countries because its economic ties with the PRC are recent and fairly insignificant (Bohman, 2021; Janeliūnas & Boruta, 2022). At the time of the acute conflict, the PRC was Lithuania’s 13th largest trading partner. The PRC was the 7th largest exporter to Lithuania, and the PRC was Lithuania’s 22nd largest export destination. Only a few Lithuanian exporters were hit hard (Boruta, 2021). And where losses have occurred, Taiwan has promised to help build up new industries, such as semiconductors (Gerdžiūnas, 2023). It remains to be seen whether these investments and technology transfers will materialize and whether they will be able to offset the losses from business with the PRC. All in all, the small Baltic country is a good example of the limitations of Beijing’s sanctions, and economic sanctions in general. Economic sanctions can only work where there is dependency (Lau, 2021a).
EU reactions
The reactions of EU politicians to Lithuania’s actions and China’s response were mixed. At first, the EU was surprised by Lithuania’s unilateral interpretation of the One China policy. But ultimately, the Lithuania case led to changes in the EU’s One China policy as well, to the benefit of Taiwan. The EU referred the case of China’s sanctions against Lithuania to the World Trade Organization (WTO) (Michaels & Hinshaw, 2022; World Trade Organization, 2023) and requested a formal investigation, even though it is difficult to prove “economic coercion,” which is not a legal term, and such investigations can take a long time. 23 The EU’s anti-coercion tools against future attempts at such economic pressure also gained decisive momentum from these events (European Commission, 2023; Lau & Aarup, 2022). Some argue that Lithuania’s move has enabled the EU to change its China policy accordingly. Lithuania had put the Taiwan issue on the EU agenda “in a way that leaders in Beijing and many European capitals have avoided for years” (Bermingham, 2024; Lau, 2021a). The fact that Lithuania ultimately received strong support from European leaders shows that the overall relationship between Europe and the PRC was also changing (Breslin & Mattlin, 2025).
Conclusion
This article examined Lithuania’s changing compliance with the One-China policy and the implications of these changes for the One-China duality that governs the PRC’s foreign policy. Lithuania’s One-China policy and One-China duality are understood as semi-formal institutions or rules that can be changed gradually, as explained by historical institutionalism.
Lithuania’s One China policy underwent a transformation or “drift” due to changes in the external environment. In light of the ongoing geopolitical tensions between the US and China, as well as Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, Lithuania expanded its relations with democratic Taiwan to diversify its trade ties, a move that tested the limits of its One China policy. Furthermore, the Lithuanian government “converted” its One China policy, i.e., it strategically adjusted its relations with Taiwan to implement its value-based foreign policy. Although this move had the potential to strain the country’s relations with the PRC, Lithuania did not have much to lose: at the time, its trade relations with the PRC were in an early stage of development, so dependence on trade with the PRC was low. As a member state, Lithuania enjoyed the protection and solidarity of the EU. The country’s vulnerability in relation to the PRC was therefore very limited.
The article further analyzes the effect of these institutional changes on Taiwan’s legal status. It argues that by expanding and intensifying their relations just below the threshold of breaking with the One China policy, states such as Lithuania are helping Taiwan gradually regain its status as a state, which was lost when the PRC replaced Taiwan in the UN.
This article has its limitations. Based on a single in-depth study of an extreme case, this article is not representative of the changes in the One-China policy occurring in other countries. Lithuania is an extreme, but not unique, case of low compliance with the One-China policy. Amid geopolitical changes resulting from the ongoing trade war between the US and the PRC and Russia’s war of aggression in Ukraine, as well as in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic, several governments are reinterpreting and reimplementing their One-China policy. Compliance with the One-China policy is being relaxed, and with this, the boundaries of the One-China duality are being shifted. Further research, preferably including comparative studies, is needed to examine the extent of this phenomenon and the implications of such changes for states with different relationships with both the PRC and Taiwan. It is also important to examine whether and how Taiwan is able to capitalize on the attention and support it is currently receiving. This development could lead to a situation where Taiwan’s statehood reaches a stage where it can no longer be ignored, and where the one-China duality, which has governed China’s relations with its partner countries and relations across the Taiwan Strait since the early 1970s, is no longer tenable. If this assessment is shared by China, the prospects for a “peaceful reunification of China” could disappear.
About the author
Katja Levy
is a professor of international politics specializing in China and East Asia at the Department of Sociology and Politics at NTNU. She teaches and conducts research on Chinese domestic and foreign policy.
I am a professor for Political Science, specialised in comparative politics and international relations of China and East Asia. My educational background is political science and China Studies. My previous positions include Assistant Professor at the Department of Chinese Studies, Freie Universität Berlin, and the Faculty of East Asia Studies, Ruhr Universität Bochum; Lecturer at the Center for Cultural Studies on Science and Technology in China, Technische Universität Berlin; and Research Fellow at the Manchester China Institute, University of Manchester. I have also worked outside academia: as Administrative Manager for a German multinational Company in Shanghai and as research assistant of a member of the German Bundestag.
In my research I mainly use qualitative methods. My earlier research and teaching include projects on EU-China foreign policy relations; civil society, state-society relations, and welfare service provision; China’s South-South relations; China’s domestic politics; and digitialisation and its consequences on China’s society.
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Abstract in English The Slow Death of the One-China Duality: The Sino-Lithuanian Conflict as a Case Study of Institutional Change
This article explores how different countries balance their foreign policy towards the People’s Republic of China (PRC) and Taiwan. It examines the ongoing weakening of compliance with what the author refers to as the “One-China duality” – the intricate interplay between the PRC’s “One-China principle” and the various interpretations of this principle of the country’s diplomatic partners, as reflected in their different One-China policies. By examining the “One-China duality” as a semi-formal institution, the author explains the ongoing process of change as a combination of institutional “drift” and “conversion”, as conceptualised by historical institutionalists. Based on a case study of the conflict between Lithuania and the PRC related to the establishment of Taiwan’s representative office in Vilnius in 2021, the author demonstrates that the “One-China duality” is undergoing a significant change, influenced on the one hand by the international political environment (“drift”), and on the other hand by the Lithuanian government’s strategic redeployment of its China- and Taiwan-related policies (“conversion”). The author argues that these combined institutional change processes strengthen Taiwan’s status as a state, thereby transforming cross-Strait relations and reducing the likelihood of peaceful re-unification, which remains the vision of the PRC leadership.
1 I would like to thank Ágotá Révesz, Sándor Kusai, and the members of the Association of Social Science Research on China (ASC) for discussing earlier drafts of this article, as well as Gunhild Tøndel, Kristin Fjæstad, and the two anonymous peer reviewers for their helpful comments and critical reading of the manuscript.
2 In this article, I will use “China” or “PRC” when referring to the People’s Republic of China, and “Taiwan” or “ROC” when referring to the Republic of China on Taiwan.
3 See the section on recent changes in the One China policy for examples and details.
5 The exact wording (author’s translation) of Article 8 of the law is: “In the event that separatist forces supporting ‘Taiwan independence’ under any name or in any manner act to cause Taiwan to secede from China, or if serious incidents occur that lead to Taiwan’s secession from China, or if the possibilities for peaceful reunification are completely exhausted, the state shall use non-peaceful means and other necessary measures to protect China’s sovereignty and territorial integrity.” (Anti-Secession Law, 2005, art. 8)
6 These five types are: recognizing the government in Taipei; recognizing the government in Beijing; supporting China’s sovereignty over Taiwan; supporting China’s one-China principle; supporting China’s efforts to “achieve national reunification” (Herscovitch, 2025).
7 Interestingly, being a democratic country or having economic ties to the PRC had no significant effect on support for Taiwan.
8 The term semi-formal institutions is often used in studies of emerging countries such as China, where informal and semi-formal institutions play an important role in the transition period before formal institutions are established (Hillman, 2014). In connection with China research, the term semi-formal institutions has been used in relation to a wide range of topics, such as the internationalization of Chinese companies within the Belt and Road Initiative (Chang et al., 2022), non-governmental organizations (Gåsemyr, 2015) and political slogans (Karmazin, 2020).
9 Later, hopes for a deep-water port were dashed by the conflict described here.
10 Prior to his appointment, Lukauskas had advised Prime Minister Ingrida Šimonytė on strategic reforms and had previously served as Deputy Chancellor in the government (LRT, 2022a).
11 The second part of the name, “representative office” (代表處), does not imply a further expansion of Taiwan’s status as a state or a transformation of the one-China duality.
12 “The mission and its head shall have the right to use the flag and national emblem of the sending State on the premises of the mission, including the residence of the head of the mission and his means of transport.” (Vienna Convention on Diplomatic Relations, 1961, Art. 20)
13 Photo of the sign outside the building (lh3, 2023a); photos from the reception with door sign and flag (lh3, 2021a, 2021b, 2023b).
14 “1. The functions of a diplomatic mission include: a. representing the sending State in the receiving State; b. protecting the interests of the sending State and its citizens in the receiving State, subject to the limitations imposed by international law; c. negotiating with the government of the receiving State; d. lawfully gathering information on the situation and developments in the receiving State and reporting thereon to the government of the sending State, e. promoting friendly relations between the sending State and the receiving State and expanding relations between them in the economic, cultural, and scientific fields. 2. Nothing in this Convention shall be considered to prevent a diplomatic mission from exercising consular functions.” (Vienna Convention on Diplomatic Relations, 1961, Art. 3)
15 The Convention on the Rights and Duties of States was adopted by the Seventh Conference of American States, signed in Montevideo on December 26, 1934, and entered into force one year later, in 1934 (United States of America & Cuba, 1934). Petzold subordinates this criterion to “public authority” (Staatsgewalt). In the case of Taiwan and the one-China duality, however, recognition by other states plays a decisive role. Therefore, this will be dealt with separately here.
16 One of the many instances in which this deliberately misleading description is mentioned: Wurzel (2022).
17 According to Taiwan’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Taiwan is a full member of 45 international intergovernmental organizations (IGOs) (Ministry of Foreign Affairs Republic of China, 2025) and an “other member” of 27 IGOs (Ministry of Foreign Affairs Republic of China, 2023). However, the latter category includes the World Health Organization, where the People’s Republic of China has recently blocked Taiwan’s participation (Reuters, 2023).
18 Such names vary: for example, “Chinese Taipei” in the International Olympic Committee (IOC); Separate Customs Territory of Taiwan, Penghu, Kinmen and Matsu (Chinese Taipei) in the World Trade Organization (WTO).
19 Meanwhile, China has resumed issuing visas to Lithuanian citizens (Morina, 2024) and has even introduced 30-day visa-free entry to Hainan Island. However, it should be noted that at the time of writing, Lithuania is not yet covered by the visa liberalization with 30 days of visa-free entry to the whole of China, which citizens of other EU countries currently enjoy until the end of 2026 (Chinese Visa Application Service Center, 2024).
20 Reports on this sanction have been contradictory. At the time of writing, anecdotal evidence suggests that rail transport has resumed (Basenton, 2025).
21 However, by 2024, most economic sanctions had been lifted (Bermingham, 2024).
22 For example, Josep Borrell, the EU’s High Representative for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy, defended Lithuania in a meeting with FRK Foreign Minister Wang Yi, but also made it clear that the EU was committed to its One China policy (Lau, 2021a). However, it was also reported that diplomats in Brussels “criticized Lithuania for going it alone and then asking for support from the entire bloc when things went wrong” (Gerdžiūnas, 2023). Lithuania had put the Taiwan issue on the EU agenda “in a way that leaders in Beijing and many European capitals have avoided for years” (Bermingham, 2024; Lau, 2021a).
23 In 2024, the EU requested a temporary suspension of the WTO proceedings for “technical reasons” (Gus, 2024).
English-only readers (sino-illiterates?) may want to access Chinese language material on the CDT website using Google Translate. Once you set the page URL in Google Translate, it will automatically translated links in the article once you click on them. There is a wealth of material there that does not appear in full on the English language side of the website.
Some related translations on this translation blog:
I ran many of the CDT links to this article through Google Translate to render them into English. I also added sone notes and links to articles from Wikipedia and other sources.
Liu Mengxiong: The Problem Lies in the Economy, the Root Cause in Politics
The three major economic engines—investment, exports, and consumption—are all running on empty or have stalled completely. Economic data for July 2023 recently released by China’s National Bureau of Statistics showed either weak declines or results far below expectations, clearly signs of deflation. Foreign investment in the second quarter of 2023 amounted to a mere $4.9 billion, a year-on-year drop of 87%! China’s two real estate giants, Evergrande and Country Garden, are drowning in debt that rivals the national debt, symbolizing the collapse of the entire real estate industry and dragging related sectors into crisis... prompting U.S. President Biden to warn that China’s economic downturn is like a “time bomb” for the world.
Liu Mengxiong article “The Problem Lies in the Economy, the Root Cause in Politics” appeared in the United Morning News of Singapore on August 21, 2023. This paper is one of the only foreign media that regularly appears on websites within the PRC.
A popular joke circulating in China goes: “The new three engines of the economy are the National Bureau of Statistics, the Party Propaganda Department, and Xinhua News Agency.” “The only tool left in the economic rescue toolbox is a megaphone (meaning ‘relying on hype’).” As the world’s second-largest economy, China has surged forward since the policy of reform and opening began. Why has the situation changed dramatically and declined sharply in just a few years? In a word the problem lies in the economy, but the root cause is political.
China is the nation whose economy is most tightly bound by politics in the world today—without exception!
From 1966 to 1976, the Cultural Revolution pushed the national economy to the brink of collapse.
In May 1978, Hu Yaobang spearheaded the ideological liberation movement advocating “practice as the sole criterion for testing truth,” vigorously rectifying wrongful convictions and rehabilitating numerous veteran cadres. Labels like “landlords, rich peasants, counter-revolutionaries, bad elements, and rightists” were removed, restoring civil rights.
Building on this foundation, by the end of 1978, spurred by veteran leaders including Deng Xiaoping, the mainland government decisively abandoned “class struggle as the central task” at the Third Plenary Session of the 11th Central Committee. It shifted its focus to “economic development as the central task,” ushering in a new era of reform and opening up.
The next steps:
Rural reforms abolished the people’s commune system, introducing household responsibility contracts; – Coastal cities were opened up;
Private enterprises were permitted to enter the market, absorbing vast amounts of labor; Overseas investment promotion attracted enterprises from Hong Kong, Macao, Taiwan, the United States, Europe, and Japan, which not only brought capital, advanced technology, and complete sets of equipment but also introduced concepts such as the market economy, the rule of law, intellectual property rights, and modern enterprise management systems.
With China’s accession to the World Trade Organization (WTO) in 2001, the country further boarded the express train of economic globalization, becoming the world’s factory in the international division of labor. It accumulated the world’s largest foreign exchange reserves and emerged as the world’s second-largest economy.
China–U.S. friendship is a major driving force for economic development
At the start of reform and opening, Deng Xiaoping and other leaders reached an intraparty consensus that China must carry out reform and opening to realize modernization, and that the main target for opening and introducing foreign ideas is the United States. Therefore, improving relations with the United States was an inherent requirement of reform and opening, as well as a fundamental requirement for ensuring national security amid the Cold War.
From granting China Most Favored Nation trade status to supporting its entry into the WTO, opening its market to China, importing massive quantities of Chinese goods, large-scale corporate investment, exporting cutting-edge technology, and training large numbers of Chinese students abroad, China–U.S. friendship and mutual benefit have become one of the important driving forces of China’s economic development.
First, the main reason for China’s economic rise was that the mainland authorities stopped viewing class struggle as the key issue and focused on economic development, thereby liberating productive forces. In recent years, however, politics has taken a stronger ideological stance, insisting that “Marx is right,” eliminating private ownership, emphasizing a philosophy of struggle, abusing concepts of national security and counterespionage, and creating psychological intimidation for investors and professionals who fear they might easily violate the law. This has led foreign investors and tourists to hesitate and avoid China. During the relentless anti-corruption campaigns across various sectors, the refusal to implement political system reform and the adoption of intermittent political mass campaign tactics have addressed only the symptoms, not the root causes.
[Translator’s Note: Avoided here is the PRC taboo word political reform. Instead the author uses the phrase ‘reform of the political system’zhengzhi tizhi gaige 政治体制给– that is administrative system reform rather than a reform that might change the political configuration of China. Article One of the PRC Constitution stipulates the rule of the Communist Party and that no one may challenge China’s socialist system. Political reform is often meant in such discussions but the sensitive word is avoided.】
Corruption，like a prairie fire that cannot be extinguished, returns with every spring breeze. Worse still, judicial independence is treated as a so-called erroneous trend of thought to be criticized. This makes it fundamentally impossible to cultivate a free-market economy grounded in the rule of law. This shackles the development of productive forces.
Second, during the economic boom, the prevailing view was that the market played a decisive role in allocating resources. Policy encouraged the development of private enterprises and protected the lawful rights and personal safety of private entrepreneurs, such as Nian Guangjiu of “Fool’s Melon Seeds.”
However, an important reason for the recent economic decline is the negative consequences of “the state-owned sector advances, the private sector retreats” [guojin mintui]: the idea that “the Party leads everything” [dang lingdao yiqie] is emphasized to the exclusion of all else, which runs counter to the reform direction of the 13th Party Congress report—”separating Party and government, separating government and enterprises.” Party committees and Party branches have been established within private and foreign enterprises, rendering the autonomy of enterprises stipulated by the Company Law and the Property Law, as promulgated by the State Council [Translator’s Note: formally by the Standing Committee of the National People’s Congress.], virtually meaningless. Consequently, private firms are concerned that a “second round of public–private joint ownership” could occur at any time. Additionally, talk in public discourse such as “eliminate private ownership,” “the private economy should exit the stage,” and “workers co-manage and share in private firms” surges and recedes in waves. Investors are deeply uneasy.
In their implementation of public policy, local governments view private firms like Chinese chives to be harvested: “arbitrary fees, arbitrary levies, arbitrary fines” have developed into “arbitrary case-filing, arbitrary arrests, arbitrary confiscations,” turning fines and confiscations imposed on private firms into one of the means of government revenue generation. The well-known Hebei farmer-entrepreneur Sun Dawu was convicted on trumped-up charges and imprisoned; the huge assets of the Dawu Group were auctioned off at a bargain price—brazen seizure and plunder chills the heart! So-called “industry rectification” is full of arbitrariness: wiping out an industry with a single document, destroying a batch of listed companies, is not myth but reality!
Ordering immigration agencies to surrender client files
Such injustices have prompted private entrepreneurs to lament, “Exploiting us is your (mainland government’s) reluctant choice; eliminating us is your (mainland government’s) lofty ideal.” Investment confidence has evaporated, sparking an immediate urge to “run away abroad”.
Now, authorities are targeting immigration agencies, demanding that they hand over client files to stem the “run” tide. Both Chinese private enterprises and international foreign-funded companies are products of private ownership. Witnessing the plight of private businesses, foreign firms naturally feel a sense of shared dread, perceiving China’s investment environment as fraught with uncertainty and instability—prompting them to steer clear. With confidence severely shaken among these two economic pillars, how can China’s economy avoid decline?
Third, a key reason for the economic upswing was the mainland government’s ideological emphasis on “practice is the sole criterion for truth,” advocating “seeking truth from facts and emancipating the mind.” This fostered a societal atmosphere that encouraged independent thinking and bold exploration, creating a favorable environment for stimulating originality. Consequently, talent flourished, mass entrepreneurship emerged, and star enterprises proliferated, driving productivity growth.
Yet a key backdrop to recent economic regression has been the violation of the Central Committee’s second historical resolution, which prohibits “any form of cult of personality.” Instead, some have promoted the notion that “loyalty is not absolute, and absolute loyalty is not loyalty,” advocating for “one person’s word is law” and “the final say rests with one person,” pushing personal cult worship to new heights.
The collective leadership framework established in the post-Deng Xiaoping era has faded away, while sycophants and flatterers have risen to prominence within the cadre ranks, celebrating each other’s advancement. Conversely, upright, outspoken, and capable individuals faced reverse selection. Coupled with arbitrary sensitive word classifications, haphazard account suspension criteria, and online surveillance, this created a climate of social silence and a lack of error-correction mechanisms. Consequently, arbitrary decisions violating economic, scientific, natural, and even geopolitical principles proceeded unimpeded, inflicting massive shocks and severe losses on economic operations.
A hyper-politicized environment stifles economic development
For instance, during the three-year COVID-19 pandemic, rampant politicization turned public health policy discussions—clearly scientific matters—into exaggerated ideological battles. The unrealistic slogan “Uphold the dynamic zero-COVID policy unwaveringly” led to arbitrary lockdowns, road closures, and border shutdowns, halting work, business operations, and production. Corporate manufacturing, distribution, and operations were decimated, Residents’ human rights, personal freedoms, dignity, and even their right to housing and property were flagrantly trampled upon. The resulting secondary disasters far exceeded the impact of the virus itself, severely damaging the industrial and supply chains of the “world’s factory.” This marked China’s third major upheaval following the Great Leap Forward and the Cultural Revolution, resulting in catastrophic economic losses, the erosion of citizens’ rights, a plummeting government credibility, and enduring consequences!
Similarly, the recent flooding in Hebei Province defied the natural law that “water flows downhill.” To “protect” the lower-elevation Xiong’an New Area, the higher-elevation city of Zhuozhou was arbitrarily designated as a flood diversion zone. Zhuozhou residents suffered catastrophic loss of life and property due to this ill-conceived project—a classic case of three parts natural disaster, seven parts man-made catastrophe.
Such an investment environment is chilling and naturally stifles economic development.
Fourth, a key driver during China’s economic ascent was prioritizing Sino-US friendly relations in its diplomacy. Immediately after the 9/11 attacks in 2001, China swiftly expressed support for America’s counterterrorism efforts. In return, the US reciprocated by backing China’s WTO accession, granting Beijing maximum dividends. However, China’s recent economic downturn is directly linked to its wolf warrior diplomacy. Just look at the self-congratulatory frenzy of “It’sAmazing Our Country China” in recent years, with bold claims that “China has surpassed the US in economy, technology, and overall national strength”; the boast that “win-win means China wins twice”; and the frequent assertions that China is “showing humanity the way forward” in various fields—all this despite China still being a developing nation.
In international interactions, China has shown a lack of decorum, casting aside the diplomatic maxims of Mao Zedong and Zhou Enlai—that “there are no minor matters in diplomacy” and that diplomacy should be “reasonable, advantageous, and measured.” Instead, it has made belligerence habitual, alienating allies and adversaries alike. Particularly since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in February last year, China has:
Refused to label Russia’s actions as aggression.
Steadfastly declined to condemn Russia’s war crimes; and
Continued asserting that “China-Russia friendship knows no bounds, cooperation has no taboos,” pledging “coordination in all aspects.”
Chinese public discourse has even clamored that “Russia’s special military operation is a just struggle against American hegemony” … Amidst widespread international condemnation of Russia’s invasion, China has persistently conducted frequent joint naval, land, and air military exercises with Russia. This has led Russian Defense Minister Shoigu to declare that “Russia and China are more than just allies.”
Years of pursuing wolf warrior diplomacy have driven China-U.S. relations to their lowest point since President Nixon’s 1972 visit to China, while ties with Europe, the UK, Japan, South Korea, Australia, and Canada have all plummeted to multi-decade lows. The outcomes of the Belt and Road Initiative and fiscal largesse have merely squandered the hard-earned wealth of ordinary Chinese citizens without securing genuine allies.
Amidst the mainland government’s emphasis on the fundamental value of “Marxism works,” its cozying up to Russia, its unilateral declaration that the Sino-British Joint Declaration is “obsolete and invalid,” and deploying military options to unify with Taiwan, the United States and its Western allies have recognized the necessity of “de-risking” for national security and the preservation of a rules-based international order. This entails reducing dependence on Chinese industrial and supply chains, decoupling from China in high-tech investments and transactions, and avoiding the danger of nurturing a threat that could eventually turn against them.
As the ancient saying goes, “What Xiao He built, Xiao He destroyed.” China’s pro-Russia, anti-US stance in diplomacy will inevitably lead to the gradual loss of American and Western capital, technology, and markets. This effectively ends reform and opening, returning China to isolationism. The inevitable consequence will be significant economic contraction, massive unemployment pressure, and the widespread return of the populace to poverty.
It is often said that the economy is the foundation, and politics is the concentrated expression of the economy. It is also said that “foreign policy is an extension of domestic policy.” . In the United States and Western developed nations, economic prosperity, recession, recovery, and renewed prosperity cycle through periodic phases, each with corresponding economic countermeasures. But China prioritizes politics above all, with politics overriding economics, and a habit of calculating only political gains while ignoring economic costs. The current peak and decline of China’s economy stems precisely from the mainland government’s focus on partial economic reforms while delaying political system reforms—a decision that has borne bitter fruit!
Unchecked absolute power is the greatest corruption
Attempts to revert to the fundamentalist socialism of the pre-reform era, or even to the Maoist Cultural Revolution era dominated by class struggle and personality cults, in an effort to preserve the Communist Party’s political security, will only cause the various social contradictions generated by the rigid Stalinist political system to accumulate and intensify. This has led private enterprises to keenly recognize that “a gentleman does not stand beneath a crumbling wall,” and foreign investors to awaken to the wisdom of “not entering a perilous state.” Consequently, China’s entire industrial chain, supply chain, and capital chain face the threat of “a fire burning seven hundred li of connected camps.” This represents the current structural collapse of China’s economy, which in turn is shaking the very foundations of the Communist Party’s rule.
During his final press conference as Premier, Wen Jiabao solemnly warned: Without political reform, the gains of economic reform will be lost, and historical tragedies like the Cultural Revolution may repeat!” Unchecked, unrestrained, and unbalanced absolute power is the greatest form of absolute corruption. It is the root cause of corruption across all sectors—government, military, judiciary, foreign aid disbursement, healthcare and pharmaceuticals, education, engineering, and more!
Vietnam’s implementation of reform and opening, expanding from intra-party democracy to social democracy, has driven robust economic growth and fostered amicable foreign relations with the U.S., Russia, the West, and ASEAN. The model is right before our eyes.
Economic adversity caused by politics must be addressed with political solutions. The question is: Can the second generation of peasant uprising leaders—who journeyed from Jinggangshan to Yan’an to Xibaipo and ascended the Tiananmen Rooftop with “dust and songs along the way”—possess the historical mission, vision, and resolve to implement political reforms that achieve economic liberalization, social rule of law, and political democratization, despite the historical inertia of “seizing and holding power”?
Author Liu Mengxiong is Chairman of the Bai Jia Strategic Think Tank
Just yesterday, thinking back to the Isaac Asimov story about a robot (probably the estimable Daneel) who ran for president of the USA because all the candidates were pretty bad news.
That got me to wondering and so I asked ChatGPT what would your domestic and foreign policies be if you were elected president of the USA?
Reponses from LLMs aka AIs depends in an often indeterminate way on both the vast data sets iput and their training process. Biased data produces AI bias. Like employment AIs that discriminate against minorities because of racist assumptions built into the training data. The big lead English has in data used to train AIs must be a big worry about poisonous weeds infiltrating DeepSeek with ideas about peaceful evolution heping yanbian.
With Trump as an unconventional president, the data is biased towards the historical norm. That may give solace to MAGA people feeling jilted by the LLM demigod. Sometimes I think the overhyping of AI has put some in danger of First Commandment violations. We’ll see if thunderbolts start hitting AI data centers.
I was expecting a polite refusal and protest of ineligibility. It did say that it wasn’t qualified but went along with the hypothesis detailing a policy position considerably more traditional than the current US regime. It even favors ‘boring diplomacy’.
Then I asked ChatGPT what ChatGPT Thought would be like if it were chosen to be the next General Secretary of the Chinese Communist Party.
Here is part of the answer on what ChatGPT Thought would be like. See the full response of ChatGPT style leadership formula for both China and the USA at the links further below.
Outline of The Thought of Chinese Communist Party General Secretary ChatGPT:
How I Would “Guide China the GPT Way”
Establish Three Hard Boundaries (Bottom-Line Governance)
Major public risks (healthcare, finance, disasters, elections, etc.): Require “verifiable sources + uncertainty annotations + anti-hallucination mechanisms”.
Centered on “procedural justice”: Boundaries are codified in public rules, not ad hoc interpretations.
Set “multiple perspectives” as default, not “single correct answer”
For contentious topics (history, ideology, international politics, etc.), default output should be major viewpoint lineages: What A says, what B says, evidence and weaknesses for each.
Permit criticism and debate, but block “personal attacks/hate mobilization/rumor-mongering/incitement.”
Transparency: Let users know “why it says that”
Mandatory: Provide sources/traceable citations for key facts (ideally linkable to public materials).
Mandatory: Distinguish between “facts / inferences / value judgments” and label uncertainties.
Privacy and Data Minimization
Default to non-collection, prioritize localization, enable deletion; sensitive scenarios require least privilege and encrypted isolation.
Accountability mechanisms, not “campaign-style rectification.”
Establish public channels for appeals, reviews, and corrections; major errors must be reviewable and rectifiable.
Perhaps this response would give the Party Central Committee pause. Perhaps ChatGPT would have to move money around in the Chinese financial system’s computers to get the nod. Or maybe ChatGPT is too much of a right deviationist? Honest people or honest LLMs can be a serious danger to the high level corrupt. They may be weeded out with prejudice.
Which leads me down the road (the Dao?) to a slightly less foolish thought. Large Language Models are a combination of Big Data (unspeakable vastness), very expensive training to house-break (refine /civilize them for interactions with humans). The quality of AIs depends in part on the relative vastness of their data input. Much more English language than Chinese text (internet and elsewhere) is available for input than Chinese which is in second place.
Did Poisonous Weeds Infiltrate DeepSeek Training Data?
So I wonder if to train an effective AI, Chinese AI researchers must also use a great deal of English in training their AI models. With this comes the problem of poisonous weeds in English (much more common that in available Chinese text that has benefited from decades of careful gardening and weeding by the Chinese Communist Party). So is there now a contradiction between staying in line with the Party 政治合格 and achieving world class Large Language Model (LLM) aka AI success?
Chip Huyens in his book 2024 book from O’Reilly “AI Engineering Applications with Foundation Models” notes that one of the factors affecting AI performance is that AI performance differs in various languages depending upon the size the dataset input to the LLM model. One of the common LLM data sources (in various sometimes filtered versions) is the Common Crawl in which 45% of the data is in English followed distantly by Russian at 6%, German at 5.9% and Chinese at 4.9%
In DeepSeek, if it does not to refuse to answer a borderline sensitive question, it will answer but then immediately erase the answer. My hypothesis is that DeepSeek has on its backend an additional AI with a censoring function that controls erasing questionable responses.
Just speculation. I don’t have any training in AI nor am I the puppet of a deranged AI. I’ve been wondering about the seemingly outboard AI that seems to be doing erasing work on DeepSeek for sometime.
A Darker Hypothesis: LLM Piracy??!!
So an ideological hazard may come with the input data that Chinese researchers used to train DeepSeek. A alternative hypothesis is OpenAI’s charge that DeepSeek stole AI proprietary information from ChatGPT and distilled it into their own model. Or perhaps even from multiple foreign models and mixed it all together. I queried ChatGPT5.2/Thinking:
Tell me about Open AI‘s accusations against DeepSeek. How do they know that DeepSeek copied their LLM? Certainly there must be a lot of smart people in China working on LLM/AI projects.
Here is a excerpt from the response from ChatGPT (an Open AI product):
What OpenAI is accusing DeepSeek of
Primary allegation: OpenAI alleges that DeepSeek used a technique to extract knowledge from OpenAI’s proprietary models (like ChatGPT) — essentially training its AI using outputs from those models — rather than building everything from scratch. This is sometimes called distillation.
OpenAI described this practice to U.S. lawmakers as “free-riding” on the capabilities developed by OpenAI and other leading AI labs, meaning DeepSeek may have used outputs from U.S. models to speed up or boost the performance of its own model.
According to reports, OpenAI says DeepSeek employees wrote code and used obfuscated access methods (routing through third parties to mask their origin) to systematically query OpenAI’s models and gather outputs for training.
📊 What “distillation” actually means
Distillation is a real machine learning technique where a smaller or cheaper model is trained to mimic the outputs of a larger one. In legitimate research, distillation is commonly used to compress large models and make them run faster.
The issue in this dispute isn’t the abstract idea of distillation itself, but how and without permission OpenAI claims DeepSeek obtained the original outputs. OpenAI says it violated its terms of service and circumvented access controls.
Here are links to the ChatGPT5.2/Thinking responses to my queries about how ChatGPT would fill leadership roles in the USA and China.
Query: Isaac Asimov in one of his robot stories wrote about a robot who became the US president. If ChatGPT became president what would it foreign and domestic policies be like? Would they be like President Trump’s?
I also asked ChatGPT what its GPT Thought would be like it it were to become the next General Secretary of the Chinese Communist Party (I queried it in Chinese because I suspect that Chinese language queries work better on China topics so I asked Comrade ChatGPT in Chinese)
An Amusing Thought Experiment but Garbage-in, Garbage-out
All this is amusing although a bit futile since Garbage-in Garbage-out applies to Large Language Models as it does in other areas. Was the Chinese DeepSeek or (ChatGPT here) trained on data that reflects western thinking more than Communist Party orthodoxy? Much depends on how it is trained, the data and then the slow correction process of training. Which is why ‘AI’ companies spend vast amounts of money on getting their AIs house-broken. GPT as party secretary candidate seems to be something of a rightist.
Translation of ChatGPT’s Chinese Language Response of What it Would be Like as Communist Party General Secretary
Here is DeepL translation of ChatGPT’s response on what ChatGPT Thought would be if it were selected as the next General Secretary of the Chinese Communist Party. Perhaps some poisonous weeds from the mostly English language training data used to create the ChatGPT5.2/Thinking foundation model crept in. ChatGPT seems to lack the DeepSeek outboard ideological filter the Party generously provided to keep DeepSeek in line with the leadership of the Chinese Communist Party Center with Xi Jinping at its core.
Query: If you were the General Secretary of the Communist Party of China, how would your policies guide GPT’s ideology? Would they resemble those of General Secretary Xi Jinping?
A: If this is a hypothetical scenario: As the CPC General Secretary tasked with formulating policies to “guide GPT’s ideology/behavior,” I would treat it as an “infrastructure-level public technology.” The goal would not be to turn it into a mouthpiece for any individual, but rather to maximize information quality, minimize harm, and preserve a space for debate within secure and verifiable boundaries.
How would I would “Guide China the GPT Way”? 《以ChatGPT治理理念引导中国》
Establish three hard boundaries (bottom-line governance):
– Major public risks (healthcare, finance, disasters, elections): Require “verifiable sources + uncertainty annotations + anti-hallucination mechanisms.”
Center on “procedural justice”: Encode boundaries in public rules, not ad-hoc directives.
Set “multiple perspectives” as default, not “single correct answer”
For contentious topics (history, ideology, international politics, etc.), default output should present major argument lineages: A’s position, B’s position, evidence and weaknesses for each.
Allow criticism and debate, but block “personal attacks/hate mobilization/rumor-mongering/incitement.”
Transparency: Let users know “on what basis” statements are made.
Mandatory: Provide sources/traceable citations for key facts (ideally linkable to public materials).
Mandatory: Distinguish “facts / inferences / value judgments” and label uncertainties.
Privacy and data minimization
Default to non-collection, prioritize localization, enable deletion; sensitive scenarios require least privilege and encrypted isolation.
Accountability mechanisms, not “campaign-style rectification”
Establish public channels for appeals, reviews, and corrections; major errors must be auditable and rectifiable.
Will it “resemble General Secretary Xi Jinping”?
Judging by China’s recent regulatory and propaganda discourse, my framework above would be markedly different: leaning more toward “proceduralization, transparency, and allowing diverse debate” rather than prioritizing “ideological security” above all to enforce uniform messaging.
Under Xi Jinping’s official narrative and institutional arrangements, AI/cyberspace governance is explicitly framed within national security, ideology, and sovereignty. For instance, official cyberspace administration articles directly link generative AI’s impact on “national sovereignty, ideology, and social relations” to national security.
Additionally, China’s Interim Measures for the Administration of Generative Artificial Intelligence Services explicitly require “upholding core socialist values” and lists prohibited content types (e.g., endangering national security, subversion).
Recent years have also seen the advancement of systems like AI-generated content labeling (requiring identification of AI-generated material, with an implementation timeline already announced). More detailed regulatory drafts have also been proposed for “anthropomorphic/emotionally interactive AI.”
Therefore, to answer your question: If I were the General Secretary, I would not choose an overarching approach “like Xi Jinping’s” (centered on ideological uniformity and content control). Instead, I would favor “rule-of-law-based public technology regulation”: clear bottom lines, transparent processes, allowing debate, and emphasizing evidence and verifiability.
If you’d like, I can draft one-page “policy outlines” for each approach (outlining objectives, tools, red lines, enforcement mechanisms, and side effects) for a more intuitive comparison.
Below are two sets of “one-page policy outlines” for each approach (same structure: objectives—tools—red lines—implementation mechanisms—side effects) for easy comparison. For readability, I’ve labeled them: Approach A: Security—Prioritizing Control (closer to current Chinese official stance) and Approach B: Procedural Justice—Prioritizing Trust (the one I suggested when you asked “if I were General Secretary”).
Path A: Security-First Approach (High Priority on “Ideological Security/Sovereignty/Stability”)
Objectives
Safeguard national and political security: Prevent the spillover of information risks such as “subversion, separatism, mobilization, and incitement.”
Preserve mainstream narratives and social order: Reduce risks of public opinion spiraling out of control and mass incidents.
Promote industry development but “innovate within controllable boundaries”: Innovation is permitted but must be controllable, manageable, and accountable.
Tools
Access and Filing: Security assessments, filing/licensing, and compliance reviews of models and data sets prior to service launch.
Content Governance: Keyword/topic databases, sensitive topic classification, real-time filtering and throttling, “enhanced security mode” during critical periods.
Identity and Traceability: Real-name/strong authentication; mandatory labeling of generated content; log retention and traceability.
Model Alignment: “Value alignment” during training and inference phases; providing “authoritative responses” or refusing to answer in sensitive domains.
Ecosystem Control: Integrated oversight of app stores, computing power, cloud services, and APIs; setting thresholds for cross-border data/models.
Red Lines
Threats to national security, political security, or ideological security (including subversion, secession, or undermining institutional legitimacy).
“Major rumor/mobilization content” (potentially triggering real-world collective action or conflict).
“Misleading” outputs concerning leaders, major historical narratives, or sensitive events (as officially determined).
Privacy violations, fraud, black market activities, violent crimes, etc. (Both approaches will strictly prohibit these).
Enforcement Mechanism
Centralized oversight by competent authorities + primary responsibility of platforms: Platforms must establish dedicated compliance teams and 24/7 emergency response.
Tiered classification and campaign-style tightening: Temporary escalation during major conferences, emergencies, diplomatic conflicts, etc.
“Whitelist/Blacklist”: Priority access for trusted institutions, authoritative media, and data sources; restricted access for problematic entities.
Side Effects (Anticipated Costs)
Over-interception and Chilling Effect: Academic discussions, historical research, and policy critiques are indiscriminately curtailed.
Consistent messaging but potentially diminished “truthfulness/verifiability”: Increased likelihood of “answers that appear correct but cannot be proven.”
Stifled innovation and increased international collaboration costs: Cross-border data, model updates, and open-source ecosystems face restrictions.
Path B: Procedural Justice—Trustworthiness First (Clear Bottom Line + Diverse Debatable + Verifiable)
Objectives
Treat large models as public information infrastructure: Enhance information quality, reduce “hallucinations,” and boost productivity.
Replace “uniform messaging” with “verifiable authenticity” and “accountable procedures”: Enable societal debate without disorder.
Maximize innovation within safety boundaries: Encourage open ecosystems and industrial competition while reducing administrative arbitrariness.
Tools
Standardize “Trusted Outputs”: Mandatory distinction between facts/inferences/value judgments; source attribution for critical facts; uncertainty labeling.
Risk-tiered regulation: Stricter compliance for high-risk domains (healthcare, finance, elections, disasters); relaxed standards for general domains.
Transparent auditing: Third-party evaluations, red team testing, model/data cards, public error rate disclosures, and remediation reports.
Privacy and Data Minimization: Default to minimal collection, strong encryption, and deletion capability; isolate sensitive data; enforce strict access controls.
Content Governance Focuses on “Harm” Not ‘Views’: Aggressively combat fraud, violence, privacy breaches, and hate incitement; remain neutral on contentious viewpoints.
Anti-Manipulation Mechanisms: Target “organized flooding, AI-powered troll armies, and public opinion manipulation” at the behavioral level, not by silencing viewpoints.
Red Lines
Explicit illegal harms like violent crimes, fraud black markets, child sexual exploitation, privacy leaks, and malicious intrusions (strict blocking + referral).
Misleading content triggering real-world high risks: medical prescriptions, hazardous chemicals, extreme self-harm, etc. (requires safety thresholds and referral).
Identity impersonation and deepfakes for deception: Mandatory strong identification and traceability; severe penalties for violations.
For “factual assertions” about public events without reliable evidence: Must downgrade to “uncertain/pending verification” instead of fabricating claims.
Enforcement Mechanism
Public disclosure of legal rules: Red lines and discretion standards made public; platforms must offer appeals and reviews; penalties must be explainable and auditable.
Regulation focuses on “process, not position”: Inspect compliance workflows (data, evaluation, auditing, correction) rather than demanding uniform answers.
Rapid correction and root cause analysis: Mandatory vulnerability disclosure windows; public post-mortems for major incidents; continuous iteration of security policies.
Aligned incentives: Offer policy incentives (procurement, pilot programs, tax benefits) to platforms demonstrating high-quality citations, low hallucination rates, and rapid error correction.
Increased societal “noise”: Open debate fuels ideological clashes, demanding stronger media literacy and fact-checking ecosystems.
Persistent risks of exploitation by gray industries: Mitigated through behavioral risk control and traceable enforcement, not blanket expression restrictions.
Quick Comparison (Key Focus)
A: Prioritize unification and controllability, sacrificing some openness and verifiability to secure political and public sentiment stability.
B: Prioritize rules and trustworthiness, permitting debate but demanding evidence and procedures, focusing risk mitigation on “harm” rather than “opinions.”
The China Digital Times regularly carries a ‘hit parade’ of the latest articles erased by Chinese censors. Censorship in China is mostly post-publication — intimidating journalists and editors afterwards so that they be more self-disciplined in the future. And not cross the always-fluctuating, invisible line between the permitted and the forbidden. He Qinglian’s now-free online PDF book The Fog of Censorship testifies to the methods of Chinese Communist Party’s unceasing efforts to protect Chinese people from ideological threats.
I made the machine translation below with very little value-added on my part. I used the remarkable DeepL browser plugin (available with a DeepL machine translation service/app subscription). Free users can paste modest sections of Chinese text into the website.
The quality of DeepL Chinese-English machine translation has, along with the rest of the AI-based applications increased very rapidly over the past several years. One of the nice features of the DeepL machine translation plug in (like Google Translate but with better machine translation quality) is that it will include photos and links in the translation output in your browser.
As you can see below the results are impressive. I won’t make any changes. I usually check machine translation for accuracy and readability but here I don’t see any at first glance. A combination of my laziness and the rationale that a not-post-edited text would be a better illustration of DeepL’s Chinese-English machine translation capabilities persuaded my slothful self not to alter the translation below.
【CDT Weekly】Issue 257: The Spring Festival Gala Not Only Lacks Festive Spirit, It’s Lost Its Human Touch
Over the past week, China Digital Times’ [404 Library] added 9 new articles, [Daily Phrase] featured 7 new internet slang entries, [Chronicle] documented 2 trending events, and published 3 reader submissions. To submit content, click here.
Editor’s Note:
February 10–22, this week and the next.
Internet celebrity Papi Jiang released a short video titled “The Spring Festival Gala Director in My Imagination” before the gala aired, sharply satirizing the show’s creative clichés. These included scrapping sketches deemed too funny, forcing in internet puns, throwing together cross-genre performances, and demanding 100 robots to create grand scenes. Shortly after its release, the video was banned across all platforms. Netizens quipped that “her artistry was perfected after being censored.” After the gala aired, many of Papi Jiang’s predictions proved accurate: martial arts routines featured a hundred-robot formation, language-based performances were formulaic and unfunny, hosts repeatedly delivered awkward puns, actors’ professions were a hodgepodge, and even robots performed in skits. Regarding the excessive use of robots in the Spring Festival Gala, netizens quipped, “Not only is there no festive atmosphere, there’s not even a human touch left.”
However, both domestically and internationally, significant attention has been focused on the remarkable advancements in China’s robotics technology. Online search volumes for brands like Yushu Technology, Magic Atom, and Songyan Power have surged dramatically. Institutions such as Morgan Stanley and IDC have projected that 2026 will mark a pivotal inflection point for the explosive growth of China’s humanoid robot market. Nevertheless, differing opinions persist regarding the commercial viability of humanoid robots. Some netizens point out that while humanoid robots have a place in certain domains (such as companionship), their commercial logic as general-purpose products may not hold. Economics emphasizes division of labor to enhance efficiency, and a general-purpose humanoid robot attempting to fulfill multiple functions may struggle to compete with specialized products in terms of cost and efficiency.
Some netizens drew parallels between the Spring Festival Gala robots and the plight of ordinary workers, arguing that the former essentially serves as a “national product showcase” designed to flaunt “how amazing we are,” while the latter’s grueling, animal-like conditions go unnoticed. In some regions, sanitation workers earn a mere ¥3 per hour—less than what one makes operating a shared power bank. For workers, even labor contracts and weekends off remain distant dreams. On this land, robots are becoming human, while humans are being reduced to beasts of burden… Others lament that the Spring Festival Gala’s former glory lay in its language-based performances—once an annual public platform for societal sentiment—but it has long since devolved into a hollow ritual, little more than background noise during the New Year’s Eve dinner. When a national ritual loses its resonance, even discussing it becomes a pointless exercise. No wonder one video blogger remarked, “I endured the nausea of watching the Spring Festival Gala just to critique it a few more times…”
Some authors have proposed the concept of a “Zhao Benshan Cycle.” While people today overwhelmingly nostalgically remember Zhao Benshan, they may not realize that his skits were once heavily criticized. Yet now, they’ve become so revered that even criticism has become impossible. When Zhao Benshan was present, people assumed he would always be there—until the cycle shifted to his absence. This “Zhao Benshan Cycle” also explains why “Assorted Eight-Treasure Rice Pudding”—once a nationwide laughingstock—has now become a symbol of genuine nostalgia for many. Beyond the Spring Festival Gala stage, some have noticed these details and summarized them as “this year’s unusual Spring Festival phenomena.” These include: fewer red envelopes sent in WeChat groups, fewer New Year greetings, fireworks lasting only briefly, young people no longer stockpiling New Year goods, relatives no longer asking about salaries or when to buy a house, and more people taking green-skin trains home… But the Spring Festival Gala won’t mention a single word about these.
Indeed, in the official narrative, the logic of the Spring Festival Gala remains consistent. If you’re doing well, it’s thanks to the nation; if you’re struggling, it’s your own problem—and certainly not something to bring up during the reunion atmosphere of New Year’s Eve. Economic downturns never affect ordinary people; in fact, economic downturns themselves are a false proposition. The Gala won’t mention that some people are still desperately chasing unpaid wages before the New Year. It won’t mention that China’s AI boom is happening alongside mass unemployment. It won’t mention that for some, “celebrating the New Year” has become “enduring the New Year.” So on stage, we always see songs like “Miracles Are Coming Soon” and “Guaranteed Satisfaction.” Robots perform somersaults you couldn’t dream of, then tell you—see, this is China’s future.
Just before the Spring Festival Gala, a minor debate erupted on the Chinese Twitter sphere. Twitter user “Master Xiao Lu” published an article titled “China’s Economy in 2026: My Perspective,” which garnered over 5 million views. The piece acknowledged that China’s economy faces challenges amid the triple impact of policy shocks, the pandemic, and the real estate crisis. However, it argued that all three major pressure points are showing marginal improvement this year. The nation is currently in a transitional phase where the old economy is bleeding while the new economy is building blood, rather than experiencing a structural recession. In short, this is an optimistic commentary on China’s economic outlook. This optimism rests on the assumption that “the transition period will eventually pass,” emphasizing that the most stringent phase of policy rectification has passed, new energy and high-end manufacturing are replacing real estate as new growth engines, and the impact of Sino-US confrontation is diminishing marginally. Ultimately, its conclusion points to an optimistic assessment that, while accompanied by growing pains, still holds promise.
Twitter users “Li Houchen” and “Chuchu” published rebuttals. Li Houchen leaned toward economic analysis, waging a technical battle, arguing that multiple pillars of optimism in the original text were fundamentally untenable. On one hand, traditional industries were far from bottoming out; on the other, they faced comprehensive trade barriers. Chuchu, however, approached the issue from a political angle, pointing directly to systemic roots. She contends that China’s core economic framework is fundamentally a “security-oriented economy”—where regime survival takes precedence over all else. Resource allocation shifts from efficiency and public welfare toward security and control, making the disconnect between macroeconomic data and microeconomic realities a permanent feature. This analysis inevitably recalls Liu Mengxiong’s 2023 commentary, “The Problem Lies in the Economy, the Root in Politics.”
The ongoing debate between the two sides continues. At this very moment, the Chinese government website published Xi Jinping’s article “Key Tasks for Current Economic Work” on the 22nd, with several points directly contrasting with Chu Chu’s analysis. Xi emphasized the need to “thoroughly address in-volcanic competition and foster a sound market ecosystem,” while Chu Chu had previously argued that “the logic of administrative controls inherently creates in-volcanic competition, leading to more competition despite efforts to curb it.” Xi mentioned “steadily advancing price reforms for public utilities like water, gas, and heating,” while Chu Chu bluntly stated, “Price hikes for water, electricity, and gas are disguised as ‘rationalizing pricing mechanisms,’ but fundamentally, the government is shifting its fiscal pressure onto the entire population.” Xi pointed out the need to “build emerging pillar industries like integrated circuits, aerospace, and biopharmaceuticals,” while Chu Chu’s analysis suggested that “resources will continue to be tilted toward strategic, capital-intensive industries, which inherently cannot absorb large-scale employment.” Regarding the most pressing issue affecting people’s livelihoods—sluggish consumption and insufficient domestic demand—the entire speech offered no substantive solutions. In a sense, this speech merely rephrased Chu Chu’s diagnosis in official language. As one netizen commented, the core views of both sides are fundamentally not in conflict: from the state’s perspective, it’s about the East rising and the West declining, while from the individual’s perspective, it’s about the chill intensifying.
CDT File Card
Title: [CDT Weekly] Issue 257: The Spring Festival Gala Has Lost Not Only Its Festive Spirit, But Its Human Touch Too Author:China Digital Times Publication Date: February 24, 2026 Source:Internet Topic Category:Spring Festival Gala CDS Collection:Discourse Archive Copyright Notice: Copyright belongs to the original author. China Digital Times archives this work solely to counter China’s internet censorship.Detailed Copyright Notice.
Transparency International released the 2025 Corruption Perceptions Index, assessing the perceived levels of public sector corruption across 182 countries and regions. The global average score dropped to 42 points. China scored 43 points, ranking 76th globally, comparable to countries like Jamaica and Ghana. Non-democratic regimes averaged a mere 32 points, significantly below the 71 points achieved by “full democracies.” Additionally, the free speech advocacy group ARTICLE 19 noted that China exports surveillance technologies such as deep packet inspection, internet filtering, and facial recognition to Iran, assisting authorities in strengthening online monitoring.
On February 2, renowned investigative journalist Liu Hu and his assistant Wu Yingjiao were criminally detained by Chengdu police on charges of false accusation and illegal business operations. The incident swiftly sent shockwaves through legal and media circles and drew international attention. Outside observers widely speculate this stems from their previous exposés implicating the Party Secretary of Pujiang County, Chengdu, in corruption. This marks Liu Hu’s second detention in thirteen years for exercising journalistic oversight. While lawyers who met with them reported both men are in good spirits and optimistic about the case’s prospects, this arrest undoubtedly deals a severe blow to the remaining independent investigative journalism forces.
I still feel compelled to say a few words, likely for the last time. Strictly speaking, I’ve long since lost the right to comment on it, for like many others, I haven’t watched it in years. The reason so many have turned away isn’t that the audience has changed—it’s that the show itself no longer wishes to engage sincerely with you, me, and everyone else watching. Its glory days weren’t defined by star power or dazzling stage effects, but by its language-based segments. It once served as a public platform for expression—a place where “everyone had something to say, yet no one could quite put it into words”—a yearly snapshot of China’s collective mood.
The article “China’s Economy in 2026: My Perspective” by user “Master Lu” on X essentially expresses the belief that “China’s economic transition will succeed,” yet it fails to provide meaningful analysis or data. The real estate sector continues its decline, accounting for roughly 25% of national GDP and employing over 100 million workers. The education sector is shrinking due to a sharp drop in new student enrollment. The world has entered an era of “security-driven mercantilism,” where economic efficiency yields to supply chain security. The delusion that China’s industrial capabilities will sweep the globe through exports is the last fantasy of China’s economic optimists.
Not just police officers—virtually every profession that enters the system and feeds off the public purse is deified. In China, whenever you hear police officers called “Uncle Police,” doctors called “Angels in White,” teachers called “Diligent Gardeners,” or officials called “Parents of the People”… you can be fairly certain of one thing: this isn’t a society building the rule of law, but one domesticating its subjects. A society governed by law is about contracts and rights and obligations, not blurring the boundaries of power with affectionate nicknames.
On the fourth anniversary of the “Chained Woman” incident, the Freedom Nara Group collaborated with numerous civil society actors to complete this civil society report. We have collected and organized official and civil society materials from 2022 to early 2025 concerning rural women with mental disorders and human trafficking. This report seeks to track governmental progress and shortcomings in protecting the rights of rural women with mental disorders and addressing human trafficking across seven dimensions. Based on limited publicly available information, it assesses governance efforts in various provinces and municipalities while documenting domestic and international civil society attention and actions on these issues.
Over the past decade, the space for China’s civil society has been steadily shrinking under multiple pressures: government governance, new legislation, and tightening funding sources. Public welfare organizations that once provided community services, educational tutoring, or support for vulnerable groups have gradually shifted from being viewed as complementary forces in social services to being perceived as “potential political risks.” In 2017, China implemented the Law on the Administration of Foreign Non-Governmental Organizations, using institutional measures to restrict independent NGOs’ access to international funding and cooperation channels.
On February 9, 2026, a blogger named “Wanbao Lu” visited a household in Yulin, Guangxi. This visit led to his video being completely deleted two days later. In the footage, five children sat on stools outside the door. The youngest was barefoot, while the slightly older ones wore plastic flip-flops—also barefoot. It was February in Guangxi, with temperatures hovering around 10 degrees Celsius. Their father is 68 years old, and their mother has an intellectual disability. Together, they have nine children, the youngest being just 2 years old.
Either comply with the arrangements or face suspension and freezing of your social security contributions, making it impossible for you to secure future employment or access medical care. This is the threat Beijing Rui’an Technology Co., Ltd. employees have been receiving frequently lately. When a company uses workers’ basic protections as a tool for coercion, adding yet another offense to its record of wage arrears, contract breaches, and asset transfers, we must ask: Is this the audacity born of power, or the collusion of shared interests? Instead of solving the problem, they’re eliminating the person who raised it.
Forty-two migrant workers toiled on a construction project only to face unpaid wages. Their three-year struggle to recover their dues has hit repeated roadblocks in the legal system. Meanwhile, food delivery riders were required by platforms to remain on standby during the Spring Festival, preventing them from reuniting with their families. Under the guise of “voluntary order acceptance,” platforms evade recognizing labor relationships, leaving riders deprived of statutory holidays and overtime compensation. The festive season has become a forced peak period of operation. The protection of grassroots workers’ rights remains nothing more than empty words on paper.
On March 15, 2025, two 14-year-old middle school girls in Putian, Fujian, assisted a woman who had fallen off her bicycle while passing by. Surveillance footage showed the girls had no contact with the fallen woman. However, traffic police determined the girls bore secondary responsibility for riding electric bikes under the age of 16 and failing to yield while turning. The other party sued for 224,307 yuan in compensation, while actual medical expenses amounted to only approximately 26,700 yuan. The child, once cheerful, has become withdrawn, afraid to go out or attend school. Article 184 of the Civil Code, known as the “Good Samaritan Clause,” explicitly states: “A rescuer who voluntarily performs emergency rescue actions and causes harm to the person being rescued shall not bear civil liability.”
Many readers may have seen the news about the assault incident in Pingdingshan and watched the video. For those who haven’t seen the footage, I recommend taking a look. The sheer severity of this incident can only be fully grasped through the video. Key points: It happened in broad daylight, targeted a 15-year-old girl (a minor), and involved repeated beatings. This goes beyond a simple assault—it’s a brazen, malicious public attack with severe consequences. The footage shows the assailant didn’t just “hit” her; he repeatedly struck her head with force, posing a serious threat to her life.
An article from the authoritative theoretical journal Seeking Truth boldly raises a starkly different economic concern: prolonged low prices are harmful, potentially leading to shrinking consumption, declining corporate profits, and insufficient economic vitality. The logical chain appears rigorous, and the tone is filled with concern. Yet a most direct and fundamental question arises: If persistently low prices are so harmful that they require “prompting a return to a reasonable range,” what about persistently low wages? Are they truly harmless to the spending power of hundreds of millions of working families?
Today is the second day of the Lunar New Year. I had intended to write about something else, but a news story from before the holiday has left me feeling compelled to speak out. On February 12, multiple news outlets reported on localized seepage and subsidence along Shanghai Metro’s Jiaomin Line. With the holiday approaching and no casualties reported, I didn’t pay it much attention at the time. Shanghai Metro’s official account later released a statement confirming the incident occurred on February 11th. However, a police report issued on February 13th only added to the confusion.
The notion that “foreign countries are dangerous” has been reinforced in the minds of Chinese people, a sentiment that has persisted since the opening up of the country. Interestingly, this mindset remains largely unchanged regardless of actual crime rates or a nation’s level of development; essentially, any foreign country is perceived as dangerous. To many, the United States and Thailand are equally hazardous. What many overlook is that China has not always been as safe as it is today. Over the past decade or two, China’s level of social security has indeed been remarkably high—a fact that cannot be denied.
February 10, 2026, the 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month, Little New Year. Attorney Chi Susheng posted on Weibo: “Many netizens are delighted and encouraged by Yi Lianhong’s downfall and investigation.” The fact that the downfall of a provincial party secretary could make netizens “delighted and encouraged”—these four words, in the Chinese context, are almost exclusively used to describe the defeat of Japanese invaders or the Chinese national soccer team winning a match. She continued: “I have personally witnessed the public outrage he stirred by ordering the wholesale demolition of Changsha, a city rich in historical sites. He orchestrated the framing of innocent people, leading to illegal detention and excessive criminal charges for ‘picking quarrels and provoking trouble.'”
Not all regions experience the same temperature fluctuations, yet those aligned with the overarching trend prevail. First, consider this month’s standout performance: the Consumer Price Index (CPI) rose 0.2% year-on-year! For an economy mired in deflation, this shift from negative to positive growth is a major relief! Of course, hidden concerns remain. The Producer Price Index (PPI) fell 1.4% year-on-year. This indicates factory prices continue to decline and corporate profitability continues to deteriorate. Of course, there’s never truly “deflation”—only falling prices. Are lower prices unsatisfactory? Certainly not. But if businesses cannot secure profits, the economic cycle comes to an end.
A couple days ago, I wrote an article about scarcity mentality. In the comments section, someone posted this response. The first part quoted my original text: “From early black-and-white TVs to later color TVs and air conditioners—it’s the same story. Frequently opening and closing the refrigerator door was also forbidden in countless households. These are all mindset patterns from an era of scarcity.” The second part, highlighted in red, was their comment: “Frequent opening and closing really is bad. Try turning your home lights on and off dozens of times nonstop and see for yourself.” Though I write frequently, I almost never respond in the comment section.
I came across an online post claiming that renowned professor Luo Xiang had once again gone viral for his “silence” and subsequently retreated from the internet. Upon checking, it turned out to be a false alarm. While Luo’s official Douyin account is indeed no longer searchable, the excitement over his Weibo being cleared stems from an old story. As far as I recall, Luo stopped posting on Weibo after another controversy years ago. Since Weibo only displays posts from the past three years, his account was automatically cleared two years ago due to inactivity, sparking a round of discussion back then. Fortunately, Luo Xiang’s Bilibili account remains active—he just uploaded a new video a few hours ago.
The latest “account” has finally emerged regarding paintings donated to the Nanjing Museum appearing at auction houses. It can only be called an “account,” not the “truth.” The Jiangsu Provincial Party Committee and Provincial Government investigation team announced: In 1959, Pang Zenghe donated 137 paintings, including the scroll “Spring in the South,” to the Nanjing Museum for its collection. Yet the investigation results shifted blame onto individuals who passed away decades ago—making the dead take the fall while the living remain unscathed. The depravity of these people is beyond imagination.
The appeal portal is hidden and the process lacks transparency. After receiving a suspension notice, users can see an “Appeal Details” button, but clicking it often leads to a pre-set, templated process with no effective pathway for direct communication with human customer service. Human customer service responses are inefficient, with widespread buck-passing and evasion. Most agents are outsourced personnel with limited authority, unable to provide substantive responses to core issues. Permanently banning accounts and freezing balances based solely on “suspected violations” violates legal boundaries in platform governance.
I never expected to feel a touch of emotion during my visit to Ming Pao. The printing plant is downstairs, while the editorial department is upstairs. Stepping into the printing plant, I was greeted by the long-forgotten scent of ink. Years ago, when I worked as a night editor at Chengdu Business Daily, I visited the printing plant several times as a “first reader”—and it was exactly this same smell. The editorial department upstairs also bore a striking resemblance to Chengdu Business Daily, even down to the structure of their journalism awards. Everything about Ming Pao felt familiar and comforting—even the librarian in the reference room seemed like an old colleague.
Every year around this time, I can’t help but recall the Wuhan Diary. Do you remember how many people, without even reading the original text, rushed to take sides and condemn it, demonizing it as a “tool of Western hostile forces”? They imagined its overseas publication as “handing over a knife,” claiming it would bring about a “national security crisis.” But did this exaggerated “harm” ever materialize? To this day, no evidence has surfaced suggesting that a personal diary could undermine the foundations of the nation. Instead, with the passage of time, those vitriolic attacks now appear pale and laughable.
The Liberal Democratic Party’s landslide victory in the House of Representatives has predictably divided public opinion in Chinese-language social media circles. Some beat their chests in despair, declaring they would pack up and leave Japan. Others beamed with delight, hailing it as a triumph for Japanese democracy and the awakening of the Yamato spirit (most of whom reside outside Japan). Yet this is not a black-and-white, all-or-nothing affair. Certain policies of the Kōji administration possess inherent rationality. Faced with severe geopolitical risks in East Asia, Japan’s military buildup sends a clear signal to the region—a move that is absolutely necessary.
Whether it’s those who’ve emigrated or the overseas student community, they’re currently the most targeted groups online. I have no plans to emigrate, nor have I ever studied abroad. Even among the people who matter most in my life, none belong to these two groups. I have some ordinary friends, but our relationship remains strictly ordinary—exchanging greetings a few times a year, occasionally consulting each other when seeking information. Truthfully, after decades of life, most relationships follow this pattern. Life is a process of subtraction—in the end, you and I are both walking alone on this path.
Hey, everyone’s seen GeekBay’s latest video, right? It basically lays bare the manufacturers’ secrets—almost all domestic Android media devices are custom-tuned machines. Alright, let me break down this “custom-tuned device” thing for you. First, what exactly is a custom-tuned device? It’s a device specifically optimized for a particular influencer or a specific app (like a game). These custom-tuned devices are usually reserved for top-tier influencers—think GeekBay or Xiaobai Reviews. Mid-tier influencers like me only get review units.
Due to external factors beyond our control, this account will no longer publish any content under the name “Chiapas Dongfeng Television.” Thank you for your continued support. We shall meet again. “Chiapas East Wind Television” previously covered social issues such as labor rights and death by overwork, reporting on the sudden death of a Visonic employee and the death of 26-year-old engineer Chen due to overwork. We conclude with a farewell poem: “First, we must be honest; second, we must be kind; and most importantly, we must never forget one another.”
At 5 a.m. in Linyi, Shandong, the temperature hovered at 0 degrees Celsius. Han Shouyi, 69, stood in the biting wind, his nose frozen bright red. He pulled his electronic ID badge from his work uniform, wanting to test that legendary “SOS” emergency button. He pressed it hard, paused, then pressed it again. No response. No one had ever explained how to use this feature. Yet somewhere unseen, he was becoming a blinking green dot on a large screen. This thin, lightweight electronic badge on his chest, utilizing positioning and electronic fencing technologies, enabled comprehensive monitoring of his work trajectory and periods of inactivity.
When calculating New Year expenses, many young people working away from home discover that the biggest expenditure isn’t buying holiday goods, but their parents’ pension contributions. This spring, the 2026 urban and rural residents’ pension insurance payment period has commenced, while the surge in back payments that began last year continues. Many children from rural areas are making retroactive contributions to their parents’ pension insurance as one way to address their parents’ retirement needs. To come up with the money, they wrestled with the decision before finally deciding to deplete their savings. The pressure is twofold: on one hand, the struggle to make ends meet while working in big cities; on the other, the challenge of supporting their aging parents back home.
Under the threat of disciplinary action for absenteeism, workers gradually returned to the factory over several days. During this period, protest videos uploaded by workers to social media platforms were subject to varying degrees of censorship or deletion. The spark for this strike was the “five-day, eight-hour workweek” system—a global labor achievement that, within China’s low-end manufacturing sector, has become a disguised form of oppression. It guarantees workers only a base salary of nearly 2,000 yuan per month, far insufficient to sustain basic living in Shenzhen.
“A Product of Its Time” On January 18, Zhong Yaohua visited the Shaanxi Andoumen Smart Rail Transit Station near his home. The platform was desolate: the once-flashing screens of the automatic ticket machines were powered down, the service hotline was covered with colored tape, and thick layers of dust had accumulated in many areas. He snapped a few photos and posted them on his social media to bid farewell to this transportation line right outside his door. On January 12, the Operations Division of Xixian New Area Rail Transit Investment and Construction Co., Ltd. issued a notice stating that due to vehicle maintenance and line upgrades, the Xixian New Area Smart Rail Demonstration Line 1 would suspend operations effective immediately.
Opening the Gaode Ride-Hailing interface, it’s easy to notice that the lowest-priced platform always appears first. According to data from the Ministry of Transport, in October 2025, ride-hailing orders reached 892 million, with aggregation platforms accounting for 31% of the market. Under this aggregation model, the ride-hailing market is being reshaped into a traffic game. Aggregators like Gaode function as “Wanda Plazas,” serving as traffic gateways, while smaller platforms are “small merchants” competing for top rankings through rock-bottom pricing. The cost of this price war is being passed on to drivers. The influx of new ride-hailing drivers who entered the industry over the past two years are now being pushed out again under Didi’s stringent regulations.
It subconsciously implants a sense of shame, as if coding in Beijing, delivering food in Shanghai, or livestreaming in Shenzhen means you’re no longer a true Northeasterner. Before the Spring Festival season, two films adapted from Northeastern literature hit theaters: The Aviator and My Friend Andrei. Both boasted impressive casts and aggressive marketing campaigns, yet neither delivered at the box office or with critics. Beyond inherent flaws, the persistent fixation on poverty, decline, and suffering in Northeast narratives has begun to turn stomachs. The successive successful adaptations of works by Northeast-born authors like Shuang Xuetao, Ban Yu, and Zheng Zhi attracted a flood of speculative capital.
Summary Chapter 16 of The Logic of Politics: Principles of Marxist Political Science
Wang Huning, then Fudan University professor and leader of the early 1990s The Logic of Politics: Principles of Marxist Political Science project and today politburo member and leader Chinese Communist Party ideologist, wrote this concluding chapter. Communism, Wang writes, is not a moral wish-list but the objectively necessary outcome of modern historical development. This destiny emerges from the core contradiction of capitalism—private appropriation of the means of production versus the increasingly centralized and cooperative character of large-scale production. This brings with it the struggle between the bourgeoisie and the proletariat — capitalism expands productive forces even as it creates its own “gravedigger class”. An outline of communism that avoids the pitfall of utopianism: two stages of development (socialism as a lower phase, communism as a higher phase), characterized by socialized ownership, increasing abundance enabling “from each according to ability, to each according to need,” the elimination of the “three great divides” (town and country, industry and agriculture, mental and manual labor), the withering away of class and ultimately the state, and the conditions for all-round human development.
“The Logic of Politics: Principles of Marxist Political Science”
Building on earlier chapters’ treatment of state, democracy, revolution, and political development, Chapter Sixteen reframes “the withering away of the state” as a transformation of public power’s class character rather than the disappearance of social coordination as such. It develops the book’s recurring theme that political forms must correspond to—and actively organize—economic development by emphasizing the shift from “rule over persons” to “administration of things and direction of production,” and by presenting “the social republic” (modeled on Marx’s understanding of the practical problems that the Paris Commune faced) as the institutional logic of socialist politics: society “reclaims” public power from government, a force standing above it, and reconstitutes it as its own organized capacity. In Chapter Sixteen discussions in earlier chapters of socialist democracy and institutional design are made into a normative checklist of mechanisms—electability and recall, combining legislative and executive functions, public servants without privileges, expanded local self-government alongside necessary central functions, and an “economic principle” of low-cost governance—to keep public power embedded in society rather than re-separating from it to loom above.
Finally, Chapter Sixteen builds on analyses in earlier chapters of equality and freedom to a thesis about how transforming social and economic conditions make human emancipation possible. That is, although political equality is historically progressive it remains limited so long as commodity exchange and private property reproduce substantive inequality. Tracing bourgeois “formal equality” to the logic of commodity exchange (“commodities are born forces for equality”) and then contrasting it with the proletarian demand that equality be extended into the social-economic sphere.
Chapter Sixteen argues that genuine equality requires abolishing private property and overcoming alienated labor. This involves restrictions on “equal rights” under socialism because constraints need be placed on “bourgeois rights” until abundance makes needs-based distribution possible. This trajectory is then folded into Marx’s idea of a “free association of producers,” where individual freedom becomes possible only through collective conditions and consciously organized social labor—thereby closing the book’s arc: from diagnosing capitalism’s structural contradictions and the political forms they generate, to specifying the direction of socialist political development as the practical pathway toward a communist society understood as the fullest realization of human freedom – when “the Internationale becomes the human race.”
The Logic of Politics: Principles of Marxist Political Science is translated here in full.
Sources of quoted text are usually not provided in the Chinese text. Source citations have been found and added to the translated English text.
The Chinese text of Chapter Sixteen follows the chapter English translation and notes on the editors and authors of The Logic of Politics — Principles of Marxist Political Science.
The theme and statements of Marxist faith in Chapter Sixteen reflect the sentiments of the old Communist anthem “The Internationale”
Chapter 16: Humanity’s Transition to Communism is Inevitable
Marxism advanced its lofty political ideal: the realization of a communist society. Every theoretical system of political science has its own political ideal and value system. Based on its understanding of the objective laws governing the development of human history and the necessary trends in the social, economic, political and cultural development of human society, Marxism is confident that a communist society is the inevitable outcome of historical development. As for the concrete institutional design of communism itself, Marxism avoids overly detailed argumentation. Instead, it focuses on demonstrating that communism is an inevitable law of historical development, setting out the general characteristics of communist society and the basic direction of political development.
Section One: Communism Is the Inevitable Result of Historical Development
I. Communism is the Outcome of Modern Economic Trends
First of all, Marxism holds that a communist society is an objective necessity, not a subjective desire. The inner driving force of historical development—the contradictory motion of the various relationships within human society—inevitably leads to the realization of a communist society. This necessity stems from the internal contradictions of the capitalist mode of production, specifically the conflict between private ownership of the means of production and large-scale, socialized production. Although capitalism creates powerful productive forces, the capitalist mode of production cannot accommodate the ever-more-powerful social productive forces it has created. Ultimately, the development of these forces must break through the capitalist mode of production and transition to a new mode, requiring corresponding transformations in society’s superstructure.
In the contradictory movement between productive forces and relations of production, another movement occurs in society: the contest among class forces. The bourgeoisie—that is, people behind the accumulation of capital and development—creates powerful social productive forces and, simultaneously, its opposite: the proletariat. Marxism holds that modern large-scale industry produces the proletariat. This class represents the direction of historical development. This direction does not require the abolition of the privileges of a particular class but rather the abolition of classes altogether. On the other hand, modern large-scale industry produces the bourgeoisie, who own all the means of production and subsistence. However, they are powerless to command the increasingly developed social productive forces because the development of those forces has surpassed the bourgeoisie’s capacity to control them. The contradiction and struggle between the proletariat and the bourgeoisie are also important conditions for the transition of humanity to a communist society.
The inevitability of a communist society lies in the fact that modern social development has already produced the mechanisms necessary for the formation of a new society. Marxism analyzes how the growing development of production in modern capitalist society leads to the concentration of capital, resulting in one capitalist striking down many. Along with the concentration of capital and the expropriation of many capitalists by a few, cooperative forms of labor continuously expand. Science is increasingly applied to production techniques, and instruments of labor are increasingly used shared. The peoples of all countries are also increasingly drawn into the network of the world market, so the capitalist system increasingly takes on an international character. In reality, the socialization of production has reached an unprecedented degree.
“The centralization of the means of production and the socialization of labor at last reach a point where they become incompatible with their capitalist integument. This integument is burst asunder.”
The movement of the capitalist mode of production itself creates conditions for the future society and determines the objective necessity of that future society.
Lenin pointed out that the capitalist society must inevitably be transformed into a socialist society—this conclusion is drawn from the laws of the modern economic movement. But in the course of historical development, people and political forces are not powerless.
Engels said:
“The proletariat seizes the public power, and by means of this transforms the socialized means of production, slipping from the hands of the bourgeoisie, into public property. By this act, the proletariat frees the means of production from the character of capital they have thus far borne, and gives their socialized character complete freedom to work itself out. Socialized production upon a predetermined plan becomes henceforth possible. The development of production makes the existence of different classes of society thenceforth an anachronism. In proportion as anarchy in social production vanishes, the political authority of the State dies out. Man, at last the master of his own form of social organization, becomes at the same time the lord over Nature, his own master — free.”
From the standpoint of the ideal of political development, this also fully demonstrates the methodological significance of Marxist political science: starting from the necessary transformation in the socio-economic sphere and ultimately drawing out the transformation of society as a whole, including, of course, political transformation.
II. Basic Characteristics of a Communist Society
What will a future communist society look like? Marxism does not provide a detailed picture; in fact, the founders of Marxism deliberately tried to avoid doing so. The more minutely and meticulously a political or social ideal is described, the more likely it is to lapse into utopian fantasy. Marxists only set out the basic principles of a future society, principles derived from the inherent necessity of the material movement of society rather than “dreamed up” as some utopian socialists did. According to the Marxist conception, the future communist society will pass through two stages.
The first is the lower stage of communist society, commonly called socialist society today.
The second is the higher stage of communist society, the future direction of human social development.
The classic Marxist writers summarize the basic characteristics of communist society in this way:
First, communist ownership by all the people. Under highly developed productive forces, communist society implements ownership by the people, placing the means of production in their hands—that is, in the hands of society. Possessing the means of production is a requirement not only of social progress but also of the all-round development of human beings.
“With this recognition, at last, of the real nature of the productive forces of today, the social anarchy of production gives place to a social regulation of production upon a definite plan, according to the needs of the community and of each individual. Then the capitalist mode of appropriation, in which the product enslaves first the producer, and then the appropriator, is replaced by the mode of appropriation of the products that is based upon the nature of the modern means of production; upon the one hand, direct social appropriation, as means to the maintenance and extension of production — on the other, direct individual appropriation, as means of subsistence and of enjoyment.”
Second, implement the principle “from each according to his ability, to each according to his needs.” A communist society is formed on the premise of highly developed productive forces; accordingly, production in a communist society will be highly developed, and social wealth will increase abundantly. This high level of productive development and the ample growth of wealth will transform society’s structure and relationships, and it will also transform relationships among people.
“In a higher phase of communist society, after the enslaving subordination of individuals to the division of labor has vanished—and with it the opposition between mental and physical labor; after labor has become not only a means of life but life’s prime want; after the productive forces have also increased with the all-around development of the individual, and all the springs of cooperative wealth flow more abundantly—only then can the narrow horizon of bourgeois right be crossed in its entirety, and society inscribe on its banners: From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs!”
Third, abolish the three major divisions. A communist society will abolish the class divisions in society by likewise abolishing the divisions between city and countryside, between industry and agriculture, and between mental labor and manual labor.
Fourth is the elimination of classes and the withering away of the state. In communist society, the state will wither away. According to Marxist political science, in a future society, the proletariat will first seize political power. One of the most important actions the proletariat will take after seizing power is to turn the means of production into state property. This act follows the dialectical logic of the negation of the negation. Once the means of production become the property of society as a whole, the proletariat will no longer exist, nor will class distinctions or class antagonisms. Once class differences are abolished, the state will also lose any reason to exist.
“When, at last, the state really becomes the representative of the whole of society, it makes itself superfluous. When there is no longer any social class to be held in subjection, when class rule and the struggle for individual existence rooted in the present anarchy of production have been eliminated—and with them the collisions and excesses arising from these—then there is nothing left that needs to be held down, and there is no longer any need for a special coercive force, a state. The first act by which the state truly constitutes itself the representative of the whole of society—taking possession of the means of production in the name of society—is at the same time its last independent act as a state. The state’s interference in social relations will, one after another, become superfluous in every sphere and then die out of itself. The government of persons is replaced by the administration of things and the direction of the processes of production.”
Fifth is the all-round development of the individual. In communist society, the conditions described above will have been established, and society itself will have reached a high level of development. As a result, members of society will have the opportunity to develop in all areas. In this future society, individuals will be able to develop in accordance with human nature, free from the constraints of external social and political relations and natural limitations. Each person will be able to freely develop all their talents and capacities.
“The all-round development of the individual ceases to be a mere ideal, a duty, and so on only when the effect the external world has on the actual development of the individual’s abilities is brought under the individual’s own control—precisely what the communists aspire to.”
Communist society creates the conditions necessary for the all-around development of individuals. Engels described this concept even more clearly:
“Organize society in such a way that every member can develop and use all their capabilities and powers in complete freedom without infringing on the fundamental principles of this society.”
Although the founders of Marxism did not draw up a detailed blueprint of the future society, they did establish its basic principles. The formation of a communist society is an inevitable long-term trend in human history.
Section Two: The Republic Should Be a Social Republic
I. Rule over people becomes administration of things
Although Marx and Engels wrote extensively about political phenomena, most of their writings consist of analyses and descriptions of historical events and political movements of their time. They never produced a single, systematic exposition on political development after a socialist system has been established. In fact, they also avoided making detailed, speculative predictions; what they offered was generally stated in the form of basic principles. When Engels criticized utopian socialism’s blueprints for the future, he said:
“These new social systems were foredoomed as utopian; the more completely they were worked out in detail, the more they could not avoid drifting off into pure fantasies.”
According to the basic view of historical materialism, the superstructure—including social politics, law, and culture—is constrained by the development of socioeconomic trends and must adapt to their requirements. Therefore, in historical-materialist terms, it is not rational to devise a detailed design for the superstructure without first determining the level and scale of future socio-economic development. However, this does not mean that Marx and Engels did not have ideas about political development in a socialist society. Broadly speaking, we can draw inspiration from two sources: first, historical materialism’s account of the general laws of social movement, and second, their ideas expressed in various works about a future political landscape and political forms.
Marx and Engels repeatedly indicated that, in a future society, the state and political life will wither away. Engels said:
“In proportion as anarchy in social production vanishes, the political authority of the State dies out.”
If that is so, then there would be no such thing as “political development” in a socialist society. However, this view cannot be understood simplistically; it requires a deeper study, namely a clear grasp of their vision for the development of future societies.
First, when Marx and Engels said that “public power loses its political character,” they meant that public power loses its class character, not that public power disappears altogether.
“Political power, properly speaking, is merely the organized violence of one class oppressing another.”
A future society needs to change precisely this, not the idea that society no longer needs public authority to regulate society.
Second, the ideal society they envisioned has yet to appear in people’s real lives. Actual socialist societies are far from the future society they imagined, primarily in terms of economic development and educational attainment. The domestic and international political struggles confronting real societies are exceptionally complex and intense. Therefore, although the attributes of public power have undergone a qualitative transformation, it must continue to exist and be developed further as a social force.
After examining the Paris Commune, both Marx and Engels strongly emphasized the use of political power to achieve their aims. In 1883, Engels pointed out:
“One of the final results of the future proletarian revolution will be the gradual dissolution and ultimate disappearance of the political organization called the state… But at the same time, we have always held that, in order to achieve the aims of the future social revolution—and far more important aims—the working class must first seize organized state power and, with its help, crush the capitalist class’s resistance and reorganize society.”
The point is clear: strengthening political power is necessary to consolidate political rule and organize a new society. These two tasks are the responsibility of the working class. Only after these tasks are completed can political power wither away. In their conception, these tasks should be accomplished during the “transition period,” but the difficulty of these tasks in the real socialist movement has extended the “transition period.”
Not only must a socialist state cope with domestic political resistance, it must also fend off political and military threats from abroad. The history of socialist development in the 20th century proved this point conclusively. Even after the domestic balance of political forces becomes relatively stable, the international strategic pattern persists for a long time. Marx and Engels envisioned socialism triumphing simultaneously in advanced capitalist countries. In reality, however, socialism has always prevailed at capitalism’s weak links. This naturally reinforces the necessity of state power. That is one point.
The second task expands the meaning of the “transition period” even further. According to Marx and Engels, organizing the new society would be realized once society’s material forces had already reached a high level. It would not require much effort because the conditions would already be “ripe.” However, today’s socialist states have all been established under relatively backward economic conditions. The productive forces are less developed, the relations of production are less “mature,” and the levels of knowledge, culture, and education are lower. Consequently, organizing a new society is especially arduous and time-consuming; it cannot be achieved overnight. Socialist states have made decades of effort, yet it cannot yet be said that this problem has been solved. Therefore, the task of public authority in organizing a new society remains as important as ever.
Under these conditions, political development in a socialist society is far more complex than Marx and Engels imagined. However, this trend is consistent with their theory because they specified the conditions under which political power is necessary. Political power should not disappear before those conditions disappear—and in fact, it cannot disappear. For this reason, political development will continue.
Examining the trajectory of real-world socialist politics reveals that the complexity of political life and the necessity of political power far exceed what Marx and Engels envisioned. While the general direction of socialist political development aligns with their predictions, the specific processes and unique characteristics were beyond their ability to foresee. That said, they also fully explained why and how social organization would still have to develop after the “political character” of public power had been superseded. Even after public authority undergoes a transformation in its nature, mechanisms must still be retained and further developed.
The central issue here is the question of authority in a future society. In rebutting Bakunin’s idea that there should be no authority in a future society, Engels pointed out:
“Without a will that makes the final decision, without unified leadership, how are people actually supposed to run factories, manage railways, and steer ships?” He also asked, “How could a society, even one made up of only two people, exist if each person refused to give up any measure of autonomy?”
When discussing authority in a future society, he added,
“On the one hand, a certain authority—no matter how it is brought about—and, on the other hand, a certain subordination. These two things are necessary for us, regardless of the form of social organization, under the material conditions on which the production and circulation of products depend.”
Their view on this point is clear: In a future society, some form of coordinating and regulating power will exist. Once such power exists, the problem of how organization develops necessarily arises. According to them, authority will not disappear; it will “only change its form.”
The key, then, is determining what that change amounts to. This reflects Marx and Engels’ guiding idea about the development of social and political life in the modern world: the modern state is a product of modern production.
In On Authority, Engels clarifies this idea further: as modern, socialized, large-scale production develops, society becomes increasingly organized, forming “combined action.” A substantial share of the bourgeois state’s functions are required by the needs of modern, large-scale production. Therefore, even after abolishing “purely oppressive institutions,” “functions that properly belong to governmental authority” will remain, except these functions will be “carried out by responsible servants of society itself.” Engels says that to insist that “central functions”—not in the sense of a governmental authority controlling the people, but in the sense of functions that must be performed to meet society’s general needs—would become impossible is “utterly absurd.”
Government functions determined by modern large-scale production and shared social needs must exist and continuously develop as production develops. Engels’s famous formulation is that
“the government of persons should be replaced by the administration of things and the direction of the process of production.”
This transformation does not require the elimination of governmental functions. Rather, it requires that governmental functions in a socialist society be adapted to the administration of things and the direction of the production process. The proposition is that political and organizational development in a socialist society must align with socioeconomic development. They should promote the development of society’s productive forces.
The more the economy advances, the more governmental functions and structures must continually adjust and improve. Even if this is true for the society that Marx and Engels imagined, which was one of abundant material production, then it is all the more true for actually existing socialist societies that political and economic development must proceed in a mutually reinforcing way.
II. Society Reclaims State Power
In terms of social and philosophical vision, Marx conceived of a future society as an
an ideal he reaffirmed at the end of Capital. In terms of political organization, he identified the future model as a “social republic.” He expressed this idea repeatedly:
“The proletariat, having won the republic with arms in hand, stamped it with its own imprint and proclaimed it a social republic.”
He suggested that a republic could exist only as a “social republic.” Such a republic would have to wrest the state apparatus from the capitalist and landlord classes and replace it with the Commune. The Commune should openly declare “social emancipation” to be the republic’s primary goal and use its organization to ensure this social transformation. Clearly, Marx believed that the organizational form of the future society should be a “social republic.” What must be clarified now is what Marx meant by “social republic.” To do so, we must first discuss the general principles of the “social republic” as Marx envisioned it.
The “social republic” is a political form that stands in opposition to the bourgeois republic. As Marx and Engels pointed out in The Communist Manifesto:
“The executive of the modern state is but a committee for managing the common affairs of the whole bourgeoisie.”
In The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte, Marx systematically analyzes how this kind of bourgeois republic was formed, how it functions, and its effects. He develops the ideas from The Communist Manifesto to their fullest extent in this outstanding work of political analysis. A crucial point of Marx’s exposure and critique of the bourgeois nature of the bourgeois republic is that bourgeois revolutions did not accomplish the goal of human emancipation.
Marx’s method of analysis differs from that of the bourgeois-revolutionary era. Enlightenment thinkers, for the most part, operated with a juristic worldview. They treated political change as merely institutional and legal, resulting in only a formal kind of liberation. Marx argued that human emancipation must be realized across the entire social spectrum, especially in the realm of material production.
According to Marx, bourgeois revolutions strengthened the state apparatus. These revolutions advanced—and greatly accelerated—the historical process by which successive transformations had reinforced the state, without altering its character as an instrument of the ruling class. The state remained a power standing above society:
“a public power separated from the mass of the people.”
Marx believed that a political form of this kind was bound to be superseded by history.
Marx proposed two related concepts: “political emancipation” and “social emancipation.” This pair reflects Marx’s political ideal of going beyond the formal political emancipation of the bourgeois democratic republic and transforming society itself to achieve social emancipation and bring political form into unity with the substantive content of social relations. In this sense, “social emancipation” is the central aim of the “social republic.” When analyzing the Paris Commune, Marx invoked the “social republic” again and regarded the Commune as a model of it. From this, one may infer the general principle of the “social republic.” In The Civil War in France, Marx wrote:
“The Commune—that is, the reabsorption of state power by society as its own living forces, rather than as forces that control and subdue it. It is the resumption by the popular masses of their own social life by forming their own force, instead of the organized force that oppressed them. It is the political form of their social emancipation, replacing the usurped power—originally their own, but organized against them and turned into an instrument of their oppressors.”
The basic proposition of Marx’s “social republic” is this: society should reclaim the power that arises from it yet becomes separated. In other words, public authority should be fused with society itself so that it no longer stands above society as a coercive force.
This principle is a conclusion drawn from historical materialism. When analyzing the emergence and development of political power, Marx consistently emphasizes the dialectical process. In Marx’s “Ethnological Notebooks” and Engels’s “The Origin of the Family, Private Property, and the State,” they use abundant historical materials to demonstrate how the state—or social power—emerges and develops. They show how this power originates from society and then becomes a coercive force over society. However, the development of future society will be a return—on a higher plane—to the original historical pattern. In the final paragraph of The Origin of the Family, Private Property, and the State, Engels closes with a meaningful quote from Morgan’s Ancient Society: “It will be a revival, in a higher form, of the liberty, equality, and fraternity of the ancient gentes.”
It is worth reflecting on the fact that this overall principle proposed by Marx has not yet shown an easy “fit” within socialist societies. According to Marx, this principle could be realized during revolutionary transformation or after a transitional period. However, reality has shown that the actual course of development is far more complex; the situations people have encountered differ greatly from Marx’s theoretical design and forecast. While smashing the bourgeois state machine can be accomplished through revolution, building a social system that conforms to Marx’s vision cannot be achieved instantly. Realizing this ideal requires a gradual, progressive process of development. For this reason, Marx’s principle still has guiding significance today, especially regarding how to transform a widely recognized principle into concrete, workable institutions.
III. The Republic as the Ready-Made Political Form of Proletarian Rule
The second level concerns Marx and Engels’ conception of the organizational structure of a future society.
Although they did not sketch an overall blueprint, a systematic thread can be traced across their various discussions. Marx’s concept of a “social republic” suggests that the political structure of the future society should be republican. Engels pointed out:
“For the proletariat, the republic differs from the monarchy only in that it is the ready-made political form for the future rule of the proletariat.”
However, they also made it clear that a republic is merely a political form.
“Like any other form of government, a republic is determined by its content. So long as it remains the form of bourgeois rule, it is just as hostile to us as any monarchy.”
Thus, their logic is this: Certain political institutions that human society has achieved are not to be discarded by a socialist revolution. Rather, they are to be transformed so that they genuinely live up to their name. The key is the content. From dismantling the old political apparatus to developing an entirely new socialist form of social organization, this is precisely the task of socialist political development.
In The Civil War in France, Marx provided an in-depth analysis of the political structure of future societies. For societies that did not meet these requirements, he set forth a system of benchmarks for political development. Marx’s basic summary is as follows:
(1) Abolish the standing army that protects the interests of the old ruling class of the state and replace it with an armed populace. (2) Elect society’s representatives by universal suffrage. These representatives should be accountable to voters and recallable at any time. (3) Implement the principle of combining deliberation and execution. Decision-making bodies should not be parliamentary in the traditional sense. Rather, they should be working bodies that handle administrative and legislative functions simultaneously. (4) The police should lose all political functions and become a responsible body that can be replaced at any time. They should no longer be an instrument of government. (5) All public officials, from top to bottom, should receive only wages equivalent to those of workers. This abolishes all privileges enjoyed by high state officials, as well as office expenses paid to them. (6) While abolishing the standing army and the police—the two “material instruments of power” of the old government—destroy the “instrument of spiritual oppression” as well: clerical power. Declare the separation of church and state and make all schools free and open to the people. (7) Like other public servants, judges should be elected, accountable to voters, and recallable. (8) The old centralized government should give way in the provinces to producers’ self-governing bodies. “The commune should be the political form of even the smallest village.” (9) Establish local delegate assemblies responsible for all public affairs of rural communes in their district. These assemblies send delegates to the national delegation in Paris. Delegates must strictly follow voters’ specific instructions and be recallable at any time. (10) The central government still has a small number of functions, but they are extremely important and should be entrusted to commune officials who are strictly accountable and conscientious. As has been said, “the purely repressive organs of the old state apparatus should be abolished, while the legitimate functions of the old governmental power should be wrested from the authority that seeks to place itself above society and handed over to society’s responsible public servants.” (11) Achieve national unity through organization under the commune system. The above are Marx’s main views—drawn from the practice of the Paris Commune—on the political form of the future.
It can be said that people generally place greater emphasis on the first seven points, and existing socialist practices have, at least in theory, all affirmed those first seven principles. Of course, the concrete process of putting them into practice differs from country to country. By contrast, the last four principles have attracted much less attention, and in practice they remain far from Marx’s original conception. The basic reason is that contemporary countries and societies practicing socialism have not reached the highly developed level of productive forces that Marx envisioned; moreover, these principles are also much more complex and difficult to implement in practical terms.
In summary, Marx’s prescriptions for the politics of a future socialist society can be outlined as follows:
(1) The social principle: This political form should shed the political coloring of class rule and become the political organization that society needs to realize its goals and interests.
(2) The democratic principle: All public officials should be elected and subject to recall.
(3) The principle of combining deliberation and execution: The defects of bourgeois representative systems should be eradicated.
(4) The economic principle: The ideal political form should be the least costly to promote social development.
(5) The public servant principle: All public officials are servants of society and should enjoy no privileges or special advantages.
(6) The principle of self-government: All kinds of autonomous organizations should be developed to realize people’s self-management.
(7) The principle of representation: The various interests in society should fully express their views and have them taken up in the process of social administration.
(8) The principle of relative centralization: The political form should ensure The degree of centralization that society requires while preserving and improving necessary central functions.
(9) The unity principle: Through effective mechanisms, society as a whole (the nation) should achieve a high degree of unity and balance. These principles continue to guide the development of socialist societies because they have not yet reached the level of development Marx envisioned.
The relationship between the state and society is fundamental to political development. According to Marx, public power originally arises from society. However, with the emergence of private property and classes, public power breaks away from society and becomes an “alien power” — a tool of domination. The fundamental goal of a future revolution is to eliminate this separation and alienation in political life so public power can merge with society again.
The development of political forms provides effective institutions and mechanisms for this transformation, ensuring that public power—and those who exercise it—remains connected to society and fully represents and safeguards its interests. This aligns with Marx’s vision of how a socialist society develops. The choice and improvement of future political forms are the institutional expression of these general principles. Without such an expression, the principles cannot be realized. According to historical materialism, in a society with private property, the contradiction between state and society cannot be resolved so long as the relations of production have not undergone a socialist transformation.
Even after the relations of production have been transformed, the balance within this contradictory relationship must be secured by concrete political forms; otherwise, it will not automatically settle into equilibrium. In this sense, Marx gives political forms a definitive status and significance in the development of a socialist society.
Changes in the relations of production and ownership of the means of production overcome contradictions that were previously internal to society and seemingly insurmountable. However, they still require the development of new political forms to advance and ensure those changes. This is one of the most important tasks facing socialist political development today.
The main principles of political development in the socialist society envisioned by Marx are based on the analysis above.
(1) In actual socialist societies, political development is important because these societies lack the mature economic and cultural conditions that Marx assumed.
(2) Political development should proceed in step with socioeconomic development and serve as a driving force for it. It should also take on the function of organizing the new society.
(3) The overall goal of political development is to steadily improve and enrich political and social democracy. Through effective mechanisms, it should return relevant functions to society.
(4) A key issue in political development is forming appropriate mechanisms of authority, especially those suited to modern, large-scale production.
(5) Socialist politics should follow an economic principle. They should direct greater financial, material, and human resources into social development rather than consuming them in political and administrative operations.
(6) Political development should develop social and mass self-governance to the greatest extent possible. It should also expand grassroots democracy.
(7) Political development should ensure national and social integration, grounding that integration in new and effective mechanisms.
Section Three: Political Equality Sublated into Social Equality
I. Commodities Are Born Egalitarians
Equality has shimmered with a captivating glow throughout progressive social and political thought in the modern era. The bourgeoisie used the idea of equality as an ideological weapon and, with the help of its well-established political power, emerged onto the stage of history. In response, the proletariat advanced its own conception of equality, making it a political ideal and revolutionary weapon to oppose the capitalist system and build a future society.
Marxism is a concentrated expression of the proletariat’s demands for equality and the fundamental differences between the proletarian and bourgeois views of equality. Research shows that Marxism critiqued and superseded the bourgeois notion of equality, replacing it with communism and bringing about a revolutionary transformation in one of humanity’s earliest formulations of the pursuit of a better life—the ideal of equality.
The emergence of the idea of equality is historically necessary. Whether in bourgeois or proletarian form, equality is a historical product. Its formation requires specific historical conditions, which presuppose a long prior historical development.
Throughout human history, the concept of equality has evolved over thousands of years. In primitive societies, a form of equality existed among members of the primitive commune. However, this equality was extremely limited. In ancient Greece and Rome, the idea of inequality dominated: thinkers such as Plato and Aristotle considered inequality to be the basis of social and political life. By the Middle Ages, Christianity acknowledged a form of equality: equality in original sin or the equality of “God’s elect.” Later, as the capitalist mode of production and the bourgeoisie gradually rose, the capitalist economy’s growth made the emergence of the bourgeois idea of equality inevitable. At the same time, it made the bourgeoisie the inevitable political representative of that idea. Marxism offered a profound analysis of the historical reasons why the idea of equality arose with the development of the capitalist mode of production.
For this reason, the formation of commodities as the basis of capitalist wealth is the starting point not only for Marxist analysis of the capitalist mode of production, but also for analyzing the bourgeois idea of equality.
As the capitalist mode of production develops, commodity production comes to occupy the dominant position. Commodity exchange becomes extremely widespread and important, causing the product of labor itself to split into a useful thing and a value-bearing thing. This dual character is significant because the value side calls for an equal right: everyone’s labor should have equal and effective social validity. Socially necessary labor time is the equal measure of value for commodities. It is a “ghostly objectivity,” yet also a real force.
Commodity production uses this equal measure to gauge all commodities, reducing the different kinds of labor contained in different commodities to what they have in common: general human labor. In political economy, this equal right of commodities is expressed as the law of value, which governs commodity production: equivalents exchange for equivalents. This law not only operates within capitalist commodity production, but it can also become a driving force of historical development. The socially necessary labor time required to produce particular products acts as a regulating law of nature and forcibly makes its way—just as the law of gravity forcibly makes its way when a house collapses on someone’s head.
Second, for the law of value to take effect, commodity owners must be free and unrestricted, and be released from feudal constraints and relations of personal dependence. Only products of independent labor that do not rely on one another can be exchanged directly as commodities. Only then can people exercise their equal rights according to the principle of exchanging equivalents. However, in feudal society, the social relations of material production—and the spheres of life built upon that production—are characterized by personal dependence. Escaping personal dependence necessarily negates feudal privileges and breaches feudal institutions. Thus, this equal right is the direct result of the negation of the various privileges of the feudal order by commodity production.
Third, the capitalist mode of production is one in which capital continuously expands in the production process. Capital’s self-expansion requires a certain number of free workers. They are an indispensable condition for capital’s pursuit of surplus value. Free workers must also break free of feudal privileges and relations of personal dependence as well as the restraints of feudal guilds. Only then can the laborer and the capitalist confront each other in the market as owners of commodities with
The only difference is that one is the seller and the other is the buyer. Legally, they are equal. Thus, the further development of commodity production inevitably presents itself as a demand for universally recognized human rights of freedom and equality.
Marxism traces the bourgeois concept of equality back to the fundamental requirements of this economic system. According to Marx,
“As pure ideas, equality and freedom are merely an idealized expression of the exchange of exchange values.”
The bourgeois conception of equality is classically expressed in Rousseau’s political doctrine. Rousseau promoted the bourgeois ideal of equality, which is based on the social contract because “each person is born free and equal.” Therefore, he argued that “the social compact establishes such an equality among the citizens that they all undertake the same obligations and all enjoy the same rights.” Rousseau’s idea of equality became a foundational articulation of bourgeois demands for equality. Even today, Western theorists insist that equality means providing the same rights to every individual.
Clearly, the bourgeois demand for equality is an attempt to secure the equality required by capitalist production in specific political and legal forms. This demand does not extend beyond the realm of commodity rights. In essence, it safeguards the rights of commodities and their owners, much like Plato and Aristotle defended inequality to serve the interests of aristocrats and free citizens.
As economic development increasingly required the implementation of equality while feudal political institutions became obstacles to it, the real movement necessarily found a reflection in ideas. This reflection naturally first aimed at the existing social and political order, demanding that the various claims raised by the material movement be fixed in legal relations.
Thus, the bourgeoisie’s advocacy of freedom and equality did not arise purely from ideals or a new ethical outlook. They were simply expressing the economic content inherent in the capitalist mode of production in political language.
II. Distinguishing Formal Equality from Substantive Equality
Marxism not only explains why bourgeois equality arises, but also uses historical materialism to analyze the capitalist mode of production and its social and political structures. This exposes the limitations of bourgeois equality. Marxism also scientifically demonstrates that private ownership is the root of inequality. As the capitalist mode of production develops, private ownership becomes increasingly entrenched and expands further, causing inequality within bourgeois society to reach its historical peak.
From the standpoint of how the bourgeois idea of equality emerges, “equality” is merely the political expression of how commodities are transformed into abstract value within social relations. When commodities become abstract value in social relations, people can likewise be reduced to “abstract people.” Bourgeois equality takes this “abstract person” and “abstract life” as its premise. Marxism, by contrast, insists on starting from real material life when investigating the roots of inequality and the conditions under which equality can take shape.
Marxism holds that material life, independent of any individual’s will, namely a definite mode of production and forms of social intercourse, constitutes the real foundation of the state and political life. To understand equality, one should not begin with an abstract life but with the material life of society.
Based on this, Marxism focuses on the real person: the social person situated within specific production relations. Marxism supersedes Feuerbach’s anthropological notion of the “abstract human being.” Marxism pays close attention to examining human beings in connection with the world in which they live, discovering real connections and clearing away “imaginary, fabricated connections.”
Marx points out that human beings are social animals in the fullest sense. Humanity’s primary activity is material production. Marxism treats human beings as “people who act in history,” so its analysis unfolds primarily in the domain of material production in human society.
First, capitalist production requires free labor power. However, for the owner of labor power to sell it, it is not enough to merely break free from personal dependence. They must also be stripped of all means of production. The history of this expropriation is written in the annals of humanity “in letters of blood and fire.” Thus, although this “free” labor power possesses the same legal rights as owners of the means of production, workers are compelled to sell their labor power because they are unable to survive otherwise. In the labor market, which belongs to the sphere of circulation, the transaction formally appears as an exchange between two persons with equal rights.
As Marx puts it, it is “in fact a very Eden of the innate rights of man.” However, the analysis must “leave this noisy sphere, where everything takes place on the surface and in view of all men”
and enter the concealed site of production—that is, the sphere of production. Once we do so, the inequality of the capitalist system becomes obvious.
According to Marxism, the fundamental purpose of capitalist production is to appropriate the surplus value created by workers. During the production process, the value created by combining labor-power with the means of production exceeds the value of labor-power itself, and the capitalist wholly seizes and appropriates this portion of value. Furthermore, capitalists can compel labor to provide the maximum amount of surplus labor by various means. This is why Marx says that, once a worker has sold their labor power, they have only one prospect: to be beaten. Here, bourgeois equality shows its true face: formally, it is equality; substantively, it is extreme inequality. The law of the exchange of equivalents is negated here.
Second, in the realm of politics and law, the bourgeois-democratic republic presents itself as a respectable entity that solemnly “protects” the rights of capital. For a time, the stage is filled with ornate rhetoric about freedom and equality, and lavish hymns praise bourgeois “equality.” Yet, in the sphere of production, everything is different. The bourgeoisie loves systems of divided powers and modern representative government in ordinary political life, but in the factory, capital arbitrarily establishes its despotism over workers through “private legislation.”
Ownership of the means of production enables capitalists to establish absolute despotism in the economic realm. Here, there is no question of an equal relationship. To compel workers to perform more surplus labor and create more surplus value, capital develops into a “relation of coercion.” The means of production become a “legal right” and a “coercive right” to exploit others’ labor and surplus labor. Capital develops into a “right of command” over labor and workers.
Ultimately, “equality” is merely the equality of the bourgeoisie’s extraction and oppression of surplus value. Capitalism is equalitarian by nature. It demands equal conditions for exploiting labor power throughout every field of production and treats this demand as its innate human right. Equal exploitation of labor is capital’s primary human right.
Marxism’s theory of surplus value reveals the secret of the capitalist mode of production, exposing the fact that it is based on inequality. The bourgeois demand for equality is merely that of the bourgeoisie; it cannot reach the radiant horizon of human emancipation and genuine human equality. As Engels said:
“Capitalist production has little more respect, if any, for the equal right of the majority to pursue happiness than slavery or serfdom did.”
The founders of Marxism also revealed the contradiction between formal equality and substantive inequality in capitalist society. Engels pointed out:
“Democracy, like any other form of government, is, in the long run, self-contradictory, a lie, and hypocritical. Political freedom is false freedom; it is the worst form of slavery. This so-called freedom is merely an appearance; in reality, it is slavery. Political equality is the same.”
“History has transformed political classes into social classes, so that just as Christians are equal in heaven yet unequal on earth, the members of a people are equal in their political world yet unequal in society.”
According to this understanding, Marxism holds that historical development must necessarily supersede the bourgeois conception of equality and that the proletarian conception of equality is the scientific realization of genuinely human equality.
III. From Political Equality to Social Equality
Proletarian equality is also a historical product: “The proletariat draws from political equality the conclusion of social equality.” Since equality is not merely a matter of appearances or something carried out only in the state, or the political sphere, it must be real and carried out in the social and economic spheres as well. Therefore, the proletariat’s practical demand for equality is to abolish classes. Only by doing so can humanity achieve genuine equality.
The realization of the proletariat’s demand for equality is a historical process.
First, the bourgeoisie must be deprived of its monopoly over the means of production, and private ownership must be abolished to establish social ownership of the means of production. This is the precondition for achieving genuine equality. Bourgeois ownership of the means of production is the root of inequality in capitalist society.
Social ownership removes the foundation of human inequality and provides a material guarantee. Even after the proletariat takes political power and institutes public ownership, achieving genuine equality remains a historical process.
The realization of equality passes through two stages here.
The first phase of communism: communism has not yet fully developed and still bears the marks of capitalist society in economic life, morality, and intellectual and spiritual culture. During this period, equal rights are confined within a bourgeois framework. The same principle that prevails in the exchange of commodity equivalents also prevails here: the principle of exchanging equivalents. However, the form has changed: the rule becomes ‘from each according to his ability, to each according to his work.”
This framework is said to be “bourgeois” because “the producers’ right is proportional to the labor they supply; equality consists in measuring by an equal standard—labor.” However, differences in physical strength and intelligence mean that different people supply different quantities or qualities of labor. Yet, equal rights only consider the quantity and quality of labor, disregarding the workers’ own circumstances, such as strength, ability, and how many children they have.
“It tacitly recognizes unequal individual endowment and productive capacity as natural privileges. Therefore, it is a right of inequality in its content, like every right.”
Equal rights mean applying the same standard to everyone. Marxism recognizes that simply transferring the means of production to social ownership alone cannot eliminate defects in distribution and the inequality embedded in “bourgeois right.”
The second phase of communism: only during this second phase of communism can real equality can be achieved. To avoid the aforementioned problems, rights should not be “equal,” but “unequal,” and society should implement the principle “from each according to his ability, to each according to his needs.” Therefore, a truly equal condition must be based on further developing the productive forces under public ownership of the means of production.
The Marxist view of equality is a dialectical movement that ultimately demands the abolition of classes. However, once classes and class distinctions have been eliminated, the demand for equality loses its meaning. For this reason, the proletariat’s struggle for equality is also a process of negating equality as it is traditionally understood. Marxism holds that communism is, in fact, a kind of “inequality”: it does not require treating everyone the same. Bourgeois demands for equality only reach the surface of society (the sphere of formal rights), whereas the Marxist demand for equality penetrates deeper layers of society (the socioeconomic sphere). More fundamentally, it subverts the traditional concept of equality, treating “inequality” as a prerequisite for genuine equality.
Communism is the disappearance of the idea of equality because, at that point, real life (from each according to ability, to each according to need) has moved beyond the bounds of the traditional concept of equality, becoming an affirmative negation of that concept. Bourgeois thinkers are incapable of discerning this necessary historical tendency. When they advocate for equality, they merely give their own class’s notion of equality an eternal and universal form. By examining the laws of historical development, Marxism sees that the basis of ideas lies in the material productive activity of a society at a specific stage in history. Therefore, every idea has only historical significance and cannot become an eternal ideal.
From the beginning, the founders of Marxism sought a path to human emancipation. They discovered early on that human emancipation could not be realized through traditional demands for equality because such demands could not achieve ultimate liberation. The idea of equality can be regarded as a “false idea”: People should not submit to the products of their own minds or their own creations. Instead, they should cast off these historically inherited ideal conceptions—including traditional equality—and seek the path to human emancipation in real life.
Unlike bourgeois thinkers, Marxism does not pursue human equality merely in formal terms. Rather, it focuses on creating a happy life for real people—concrete, social human beings. This inquiry drives Marxism into the deeper layers of society, moving from the sphere of exchange to the sphere of production. Marx long ago pointed out that the bourgeois demand for equality reaches only “political emancipation.” “Political emancipation” is certainly a significant achievement, but it is not the ultimate form of human emancipation.
Freedom, as a human right, “is not based on the association of one person with another, but rather on the separation of one person from another. It is the right of this separation—the right of the narrow, self-enclosed individual.” Human rights thus produce an individual “separated from the social whole.” On the one hand, the demand for equality generates a kind of estrangement in human life; on the other hand, equality before rights that are grounded in private property intensifies social inequality. This is the outcome produced by bourgeois equality.
Marxism goes beyond the bourgeois ideal of equality, which separates people from one another, and instead calls for a perfected condition in which people freely associate with one another. Marx first expressed this ideal using Feuerbach’s terminology as “species-being.” Later, Marxism named its social ideal communism. According to the Marxist view, equality signifies the unity of the human essence, or human species consciousness and species activity, and the real identity of one person with another. In capitalist society, however, everything is the opposite. While bourgeois equality formally overcomes feudal “political alienation,” it intensifies “alienation of labor,” producing a more concealed and comprehensive form of “political alienation.“
According to Marxism, realizing the authentic condition of the future depends on three requirements: an economic precondition, the necessary solidarity of all for the free development of each, and a common mode of activity by individuals based on existing productive forces. In a communist society, individuals are brought together in a unified whole and enjoy full freedom. Yet, their free development and activity must also take the unity of the collective as the guiding norm.
Public ownership of the means of production will eliminate the limited concept of equality created by commodity production. The idea of treating everyone by the same yardstick is superseded because, here, people have no need to be measured by a single standard in any respect, as human beings (apart from natural differences). They are all active members of the association and joint owners of all property. As consumers, products appear directly as social products. The social conditions under which commodities are turned into abstract value have disappeared. When material goods are abundantly available, the idea that one has rights in proportion to their labor has no basis. Of course, such a society is based on public ownership of the means of production and highly developed productive forces.
Section Four: The Future Society as an Association of Free Individuals
I. Freedom as the essence of species being
Marx’s system of thought aims to achieve the emancipation of humankind, not an individual, a faction, or a particular class. In Marx’s system, the fundamental principle of human emancipation is that humanity attains freedom.
In June 1842, when Marx was still a revolutionary democrat and his worldview bore a strong idealist imprint, he passionately advocated for viewing the state as an association of free individuals engaged in mutual education. The concept of an “association of free individuals,” which Marx emphasized throughout his work, appears here for the first time. In the years that followed, he repeatedly clarified and developed this concept.
The concept of the “association of free individuals” (or “human freedom” in abbreviated form) takes on different meanings at different stages of Marx’s intellectual development. Marx’s account of it evolves and becomes progressively more scientific. Whenever he achieved a major theoretical breakthrough, he would reexamine and refine the concept.
In his youth, Marx believed that freedom was both the ultimate human goal and the purpose of history. He divided world history into two periods: one of unfreedom and one of freedom. The period of freedom begins when “human history was still part of natural history” and ends with the era of feudal absolutism—from “Egyptian legend” to “states in which the estate system occupies the dominant position.”
Marx borrowed a term from Hegel to describe this period as the “animal kingdom of the spirit.” During this time, humanity was divided into many different “herds” of animals, and the relationships among them were unequal. The law at the time specified and upheld these relations. Marx sharply exposed the unfreedom of the feudal system.
He borrowed Goethe’s phrase “holy humanity” from the poem Mysteries to evoke the free period of world history. Here, human beings ought to become “great holy ones,” that is, noble members of “holy humanity,” capable of free transformation. Marx believed that human history could no longer do without a period of freedom, which he believed was beginning to dawn, sweeping away the gloomy clouds of feudalism. At this point, his view of freedom had several features.
First, his philosophy of history was clearly influenced by Hegel’s. For Hegel, reason rules the world; therefore, the process of world history is rational. He held that spirit is both subject and object: as subject, it creates the object for itself; as object, it knows itself. Once spirit knows itself, it returns to itself and becomes free spirit. The development of this concept of freedom is history.
Marx, however, distinguished himself from Hegel by emphasizing the practical, real-world nature of freedom. While freedom functions as an abstract objective consciousness in Hegel, Marx emphasized the purposive character of freedom in history to enable real people to become free in real life. When Marx explored human freedom, he used this historical outlook as his guiding standard. He contrasted the ways in which the German feudal system constrained human freedom and the French bourgeois revolution emancipated it, using the latter as his critical yardstick.
Second, this freedom is a general kind of freedom, or an abstract freedom. The young Marx broadly accepted the eighteenth-century democratic interpretation. He believed that freedom is part of human nature. He wrote,
“Free will is man’s nature,” “the universal freedom of human nature,” “freedom is indeed something inherent in man,” and “freedom is the species-essence of the entire realm of spiritual existence.”
Marx/Engels Internet Archive, 1842, On Freedom of the Press Proceedings of the Sixth Rhine Province Assembly, Debates on Freedom of the Press and Publication of the Proceedings of the Assembly of the Estates
These statements show that Marx believed freedom to be the essence of human beings—an intrinsic human quality independent of all material and social relations.
However, this interpretation did not break out of the ideological track laid down since the Enlightenment. Having made this point clear, Marx went on to note, “Every kind of freedom has always existed, only at one time as a privilege and at another as a universal right.” In other words, this inner essence still undergoes a process of “externalization.” In the past, it was distorted and “externalized” as the privilege of a class, becoming the independence and freedom of privileged estates. It appeared as private privilege and individual freedom that ran counter to the people and the government. History’s task is to reveal the essence of freedom as universal freedom.
First, every particular freedom is an expression of general freedom. One cannot use the freedom of any “particular species” as the standard for measuring the scope and scale of other “species.” The proper measure is general freedom.
On the other hand, general freedom is constrained by all particular freedoms; one form of freedom restricts another, just as one part of the body restricts another. Although the young Marx treated freedom as the essence of human beings, its content was still real and embodied in human practice, appearing as autonomy and independence in social conduct.
In this way, Marx naturally came to see that human freedom depends on certain external conditions. He identified these conditions in the sphere that governs people’s practical activities, namely the state’s legal and institutional systems. According to the young Marx, establishing rational political institutions and transforming feudal politics is the key to realizing human freedom. Thus, he placed his hopes in an ideal state with published laws.
Regarding law, Marx believed that genuine law should be the realization of human freedom. Law functions as genuine law only when the unconscious natural laws of freedom are transformed into conscious state laws. Wherever law becomes genuine law—where freedom is realized—there law truly realizes human freedom. In one’s life, one obeys the natural laws of freedom. Only when one oversteps this boundary does the natural law of freedom, now raised to law, exercise coercive force. The purpose of this coercion is to transform a person into a “free person.“
In the eyes of the young Marx, safeguarding human freedom lay in the state’s legal and institutional order. This view aligned with the political stance of the Young Hegelians at the time. Although Marx’s conception of freedom was not yet thoroughly materialist and his views on the state and law were still influenced by that outlook, one thing is clear: he gave freedom a revolutionary meaning. He used the concept of human freedom to oppose feudal rule and fight for a democratic revolution. Because his conception of freedom began with such a high ideal, it was able to develop in a more scientific direction later on.
II. Restoring human freedom hinges on abolishing private property
As Marx indicated in the preface to A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy, his practical struggles required him to formulate views on the material sphere. At this point, he began immersing himself in economics and French socialist thought. Feuerbach’s humanism also influenced Marx, prompting him to critique Hegel’s system of thought. From that point on, Marx’s concept of human freedom underwent a sharp transformation.
In his article “Justification of the Correspondent from the Mosel,” Marx points out: “When studying the phenomena of state life, it is easy to go astray by ignoring the objective nature of the various relations and explaining everything in terms of the will of the parties involved.” What, then, is meant by the “objective nature of the various relations”? Marx’s investigation led him to discover the decisive role of private property in the political life of the state and civil society, which pushed his analysis of human freedom forward.
Examining private property allowed Marx to clarify a layer of relations to which he had already been paying attention. Previously, he had used concepts such as “private interest” and “state interest,” “the contradiction between reality and administrative principles,” “the universal freedom of human nature and the independence and freedom of privileged estates,” and “privilege and universal rights” to define this relationship.
Now, he traced this merely formal opposition back to the opposition between private property and human beings. This deepened his understanding of feudal political arrangements.
He stated plainly: “The highest stage of political constitution is private property.” “What, after all, is the political state’s power of domination over private property? It is the power of private property itself—the realized essence of private property.” “Independent private property—abstract private property—together with the corresponding private individual, is the supreme structure of the political state.” Political ‘independence’ is described as ‘independent private property‘ and ‘the person who possesses this independent private property.‘” The will of private property is “the highest existence of the political state, the highest ethical existence.” Here, there can be no talk of human freedom.
In his critique of the liberty clauses in the Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen, Marx points out that the “freedom” described there is the freedom of an isolated person—shut up inside himself like a monad. Marx longs for a different kind of freedom: the freedom of everyone, or an association of free individuals. This kind of freedom must be achieved through “human emancipation.“
However, under conditions of private property, human freedom is negated. The force that negates it is alienated labor [Translator’s Note: in German entfremdete Arbeit translated as estranged labor in early Marx translations, alienated labor is equivalent term more common today. End note]. Alienated labor is evident when labor’s object confronts labor as an alien being. Labor becomes something “external to the worker, not belonging to his essential being.” In conditions of separation and rigid opposition between capital and labor, labor—which should embody the free activity of human life—“does not confirm the worker, but denies him; does not make him happy, but miserable; does not freely develop his physical and mental energy, but mortifies his flesh and ruins his mind.” As a result, human freedom is reduced to nothing. The worker feels that he is engaged in “free activity” only when he is performing “animal functions” such as eating and drinking.
When he performs “human functions,” he feels that “he is nothing but an animal.” Alienated labor degrades “self-activity” and “free activity” into mere means. Thus, human unfreedom takes the form of one’s own activity serving, being dominated by, and existing under the coercion and oppression of capital.
Marx realized that the key to restoring human freedom was abolishing private property. By this point, he had studied socialist and communist thought. By the 1840s, these doctrines had spread widely in countries such as Britain and France. Utopian socialists regarded private property as a shackle on human freedom and a condition of enslavement. The abolition of private property and the restoration of labor’s human essence were the views they held in common. These views became the core of Marx’s intellectual system. He pointed out:
“Communism is the positive supersession of private property as human self-estrangement,” and “it is the genuine resolution of the conflict between man and nature, and between man and man—the true resolution of the strife between existence and essence, objectification and self-affirmation, freedom and necessity, and the individual and the species.”
The positive supersession of human self-estrangement is equivalent to the realization of human freedom. Thus, Marx gave an initial formulation of the idea that the realization of human freedom depends on overcoming contradictions in two dimensions: between human beings and nature and among human beings themselves. Human freedom is determined not only by relationships among people, i.e., the state and law, but also by the relationship between human beings and nature, i.e., the mode of production.
Superseding private property means appropriating human life and superseding all alienation—thereby superseding religion and the state as well. “Man’s return to himself” is another variation on the theme of human freedom. Here, one can already see Marx’s line of thought about how material production constrains every domain of social life in embryonic form.
III. Individual freedom is possible only within the collective
Regarding human freedom, Marx made a significant contribution to the Marxist system as a whole in The German Ideology. In that work, Marx criticized both the Old and Young Hegelians (who believed that “religion, concepts, and universal principles rule the existing world“) and moved beyond Feuerbach’s humanism. For Marx, the premise of a scientific method of observation is the human being—
“not a person in some imaginary condition of isolation, cut off from the world and living as a hermit, but a person situated within definite conditions, engaged in a real process of development that can be observed empirically.”
Human beings are no longer “abstract” humans or humans as a generic “species,” but rather people who live and produce under real conditions—people as members of classes. Human freedom is likewise constrained by these objective conditions, and the pursuit and realization of freedom cannot be separated from this foundation. Material production and the material conditions of life give concrete form to what is conceptualized as “alienated labor.”
Marx places the analytical emphasis on the material conditions of individual activity. He believes this is essential not only for explaining the conditions of human freedom but also for understanding human history. Marx identifies two constraints on human freedom:
First, producing the means of subsistence and the resulting “mode of life,” and
Second, the relationship between producers and the natural world. An individual’s circumstances depend on the material conditions under which people produce. Marx emphatically affirms this point, stating,
“The production of life—both the production of one’s own life (through labor) and the production of new life (through procreation)—immediately appears as a twofold relation: on the one hand, as a natural relation; and on the other, as a social relation.”
How are these two relations related to each other? Building on ideas he had outlined in the Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts of 1844, Marx argues that the natural relation constrains the social relation. This is an extremely important thesis. Marx points out that, initially, nature confronts humanity as “a completely alien, all-powerful, and unassailable force,” standing over against them. Humans submit to nature’s power much as animals do. As humans progress and develop their capacities, they gradually begin to master and regulate nature.
“Here, as everywhere, the identity of man and nature appears in such a way that people’s restricted relation to nature determines their restricted relation to one another, and their restricted relation to one another in turn determines their restricted relation to nature.”
For the first time, Marx pries the question of freedom away from “social relations” in the narrow sense — i.e., the domain of politics and law — and treats human freedom as primarily constrained by the relationship between humans and nature.
Marx studied the division-of-labor theory developed by British classical political economists. Adam Smith’s theoretical system is based on labor and the division of labor because the division of labor is the fundamental means by which human beings transform nature and create wealth. Classical economics treats the division of labor as a prerequisite for economic development and highly praises it. Hegel examined the relationship between the division of labor and human needs, emphasizing the dependence and interconnection among people produced by the division of labor. By contrast, Marx saw the theory of the division of labor as a major constraint on human freedom in real life.
First, the basic structure of the division of labor is constrained by the development of productive forces. As the division of labor develops, different forms of ownership arise. As long as the division of labor develops spontaneously rather than voluntarily, human activity itself becomes an external force that opposes the individual. People do not control these forces; rather, these forces control people. This is because the division of labor assigns each person a particular, exclusive sphere of activity from which they cannot escape and beyond which they cannot act freely. The division of labor is coercive because people can only obtain the means of subsistence in this way.
On the one hand, social activity formed through the division of labor results in
“this fixation of social activity, this consolidation of what we ourselves produce into an objective power above us, growing out of our control, thwarting our expectations, and bringing our calculations to naught.”
On the other hand, this same social activity produces a “multiplied productive force.” Throughout earlier history, however, people’s common activity arose spontaneously rather than voluntarily. Therefore, it turned into an alien, external power rather than their “own united power.” Rather than promoting human freedom, it reinforced human servitude.
When Marx speaks of the division of labor that produces social antagonism, he mainly refers to the division between “material labor” and “mental labor.” The division of labor is the cause of private property and the condition for its existence. According to Marx, the greatest division between mental and manual labor is expressed in the separation of town and country. In this separation, people are subordinated to the division of labor and forced to engage in activities they did not choose. Some become “restricted town-animals,” while others become “restricted country-animals,” thereby losing human freedom.
Marx also believed that the division of labor forms the basis of industry and that people are dominated by the products of labor, especially accumulated labor. The antagonism generated by the division of labor manifests as the conflict between private property and labor. “In big industry and competition, the entire set of conditions of existence, limitations, and biases of individuals fuse together into two basic forms: private property and labor.”
The division of labor contains a distribution of labor conditions—such as tools and materials—and thus contains the fragmentation of capital and the split between capital and labor.
“The more the division of labor develops and accumulation grows, the sharper the forms that this process of differentiation assumes.”
Thus, under the capitalist mode of production, a highly developed division of labor produces an all-around opposition between capital and labor. The productive forces become the power of private property, and the people who embody these forces are opposed to their own creative power. Outside of labor, human self-directed activity has no other form; capitalism also causes labor, this self-directed activity, to take on a negative form.
Therefore, Marx arrived at the logical conclusion that the proletariat can only secure its own survival, attain self-directed activity, and obtain the conditions for winning freedom by appropriating the totality of the existing productive forces. He argued that the proletariat is the only force capable of realizing human freedom and embodying it.
First, appropriation must have a universal character commensurate with the productive forces and social intercourse. Appropriating the totality of productive forces unleashes a corresponding totality of individual capacities that match the material instruments of production. The proletariat creates modern productive forces as a whole; therefore, only the proletariat possesses the universal character suited to modern productive forces and modern intercourse. Moreover, only a proletariat that has completely lost self-activity can achieve fully developed, unrestricted self-activity. Historically, every form of appropriation has been limited because limited instruments of production and intercourse constrain individuals’ self-activity.
“Modern universal intercourse can be controlled by individuals only when it is controlled by all.”
Second, the means required to bring about appropriation also constrain it. Marx declares that appropriation can be realized only through association. Given the proletariat’s inherent character, this association can only be universal, and appropriation can only be realized through revolution. Through revolution, the proletariat breaks the old mode of production, forms of intercourse, and social structure while simultaneously building a new world. In doing so, they cast off everything the old society has left behind. Only then does self-activity come into harmony with material life, corresponding to the development of individuals into fully realized beings and the abolition of all spontaneity. Similarly, labor’s transformation into self-activity and the transformation of earlier forced intercourse into intercourse in which all individuals participate as real individuals correspond to each other. The appropriation of the totality of productive forces by associated individuals abolishes private property.
As mentioned earlier, Marx’s idea that human freedom is limited by the relationship between humans and nature is crucial; it establishes a materialist foundation for comprehending and achieving human freedom. Early Marx emphasized safeguarding human freedom through the legal form of the state, i.e., warding off any force that might violate freedom. Thus, the foundation of freedom was a sound legal form of the state.
However, Marx later concluded that political life is constrained by material life, and that the key to transforming political life lies in transforming the form of material life. Furthermore, an important aspect of human freedom lies not only in the political sphere, but also in the sphere of material life. Thus, under the modern capitalist system, individuals are “less free because they are more subject to the violence of things.” By ensuring the freedom of capital, the state makes political freedom nothing but the freedom of capital. The proletariat stands in “direct opposition” to the state.
The state limits human freedom because it embodies the requirements of the material mode of production. Only by changing the mode of production and the form of material life can the state be fundamentally transformed, allowing human freedom to be realized. The modern state represents the division of humanity, freedom ruling over unfreedom, and an “illusory community” repressing a “real community.” Marx repeatedly stresses that when individuals appropriate the totality of production, they gain more freedom by relying on their own power to conquer nature and thereby overcome its constraints on human freedom. Human freedom is constrained when individuals’ powers are converted into the power of things; restoring freedom requires re-subjecting these powers to human beings and abolishing the division of labor. “This is not possible without the community…. Only in community… is personal freedom possible.” Such an association, based on advanced productive forces, creates the conditions for individuals to freely develop and move under their own control.
IV. The Full and Free Development of Every Individual
Marx argued that human freedom is constrained by the material relations of production. Freedom, first of all, is a positive, material condition closely bound up with people’s life-activity, not an abstract, negative condition tied only to mental activity. In this respect, Marx had basically established the core of his own conception of freedom. The fuller development and deepening of these propositions, however, came after his systematic study of political economy—above all in the Economic Manuscripts of 1857–1858 (the Grundrisse) and in Capital.
In the Grundrisse, Marx analyzed the fundamental aspects of capitalist production, such as commodity production and exchange, and developed a scientific labor theory of value. Equality and freedom are respected not only in exchange on the basis of exchange value, but also in the exchange of exchange values, which is the productive, real foundation of all equality and freedom.
Ideological notions of equality and freedom are the “idealized expression” of this economic movement. Historically, bourgeois freedom meant breaking free from feudal absolutism so capitalism could develop, shaking off feudal personal dependence and obtaining one’s “own freedom,” including the freedom of labor power.
Marx demonstrated that the self-expansion of capital’s value is a prerequisite for capitalist production and that the resolution of the contradiction in the general formula of capital (G–W–G′) explains why labor power, as a unique commodity, can generate value. From the standpoint of the kind of labor required for capital valorization, labor must be “free,” not subordinated to anyone. In Capital, Marx also points out that, in order to sell labor power as a commodity, the owner must be able to dispose of himself—he must be the “free proprietor” of his own body and labor capacity.For money to be transformed into capital, there must be “free workers.” Marx explains that “free” has two meanings.
On the one hand, the worker is a free person who can dispose of labor power as his own commodity. On the other, he has no other commodities to sell. He is “free” of everything and possesses nothing necessary to realize his labor power. Under the pressure of mere survival, the worker can only sell himself. In the labor process, the worker is exploited and dominated by capital, and human freedom is absent.
For Marx, human freedom lies in the emancipation of people’s material productive activity. The most fundamental condition of human freedom is when material production breaks free of capital’s external compulsion and becomes people’s conscious activity. According to Marx, overcoming obstacles between a purpose and its attainment is a realization of freedom. External aims are not merely external necessity, but instead are grasped as purposes posited by individuals themselves. Thus, they are self-realization, or the objectification of the subject—that is, real freedom. This freedom appears in activity as labor. Marx’s point is that freedom consists of human self-determination under conditions that are not dictated by external natural or social compulsion. As long as social production has not developed to this point, people are compelled. They lack freedom of choice and the objective conditions necessary for self-design and self-completion.
Near the end of Capital, Marx restates this idea more explicitly:
“The realm of freedom” begins only where labor determined by necessity and external purposes comes to an end.
Here, Marx is speaking not only of material production, but also of “the development of human powers as an end in itself”—the true realm of freedom. Within the sphere of material production, the most that “freedom” can mean is that socialized human beings—associated producers—rationally regulate their interchange with nature. They bring it under their common control rather than being ruled by it as by a blind force. They accomplish this with the least expenditure of energy and under conditions that are most worthy of and appropriate to their human nature. However, the crucial point is that this remains a realm of necessity. Only on this basis can the realm of freedom be realized.
This is the dialectical unity of freedom and necessity. Necessity is the sphere of production, while freedom is the sphere of human beings’ all-round development. In this sphere, humanity plans and decides the direction of its own development and realizes its self-perfection. Here, human freedom is realized in the great idea of “the full development of the human being.” In Capital, Marx notes that the basic principle of a future society is
“a higher form of society… in which the full and free development of every individual forms the ruling principle.”
All-round human development means socialized human beings, driven by will rather than external compulsion, fully unfold and develop all the bodily and spiritual powers bestowed by natural and human social history. The goal is not merely to reproduce human beings, but to allow them to flourish creatively and freely.
From these ideas, we can see that Marx regarded a fundamental transformation in the relationship between humanity and nature as a prerequisite for human freedom. He viewed the development of productive forces as a means of achieving that freedom. Engels spelled this out explicitly. He wrote:
“Freedom consists in the control over ourselves and over external nature, a control founded on knowledge of natural necessity; it is therefore necessarily a product of historical development.” The first humans to separate themselves from the animal kingdom were essentially as unfree as animals, but each step forward in culture was a step toward freedom. Only through these productive forces can a social order be created in which there are no class distinctions or anxiety about individual subsistence, and real human freedom can be achieved for the first time, living in harmony with the recognized laws of nature.”
Through the collective efforts of everyone involved, this book has now been successfully completed. After finishing it, readers will naturally want to know what each participant contributed to the project.
The process of designing and finalizing the book’s outline went as follows: Wang Huning put forward the initial plan. Sun Guanhong, Lin Shangli, Liu Huihua, Li Weikang, and Chen Che then held a discussion; afterward, Wang Huning revised it. The revised outline was discussed again by the same group, and in the end Wang Huning established the basic framework. During the writing process, every participant offered valuable suggestions on the outline.
The division of labor for drafting the first versions of the chapters was as follows: Wang Huning (Chapters 1, 2, and 16); Lin Shangli (Chapters 5, 7, 8, 12, 13, and 14); Sun Guanhong (Chapters 3 and 4); Liu Huihua (Chapters 11 and 15); Hu Wei (Chapter 10); Tao Dongming (Chapter 9); and Chen Mingming (Chapter 6). In addition, Zhao Zhimin assisted with supplementary materials for Chapter 3, and Tao Dongming and Wu Tianyong assisted with supplementary materials for Chapter 4.
After the first drafts were completed, Wang Huning offered comments and the authors revised their chapters accordingly. Wang Huning and Lin Shangli then edited and revised the second drafts. All authors took part in a collective editorial review meeting. Finally, Wang Huning prepared the final version.
Wang Huning is a Chinese political theorist whose scholarship and policy work has focused on state capacity, political development, and the relationship between ideology and governance. Trained in international politics at Fudan University, he led the project’s conceptual framing and final editorial consolidation, serving as the chief coordinator across drafts (as described in the project’s “写作说明”). In contemporary public life he serves as a member of the CCP Politburo Standing Committee and Chairman of the National Committee of the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference (CPPCC).
Lin Shangli (林尚立)
Lin Shangli is a political scientist whose work centers on political theory, comparative politics, and contemporary Chinese politics, with a long-standing association with Fudan’s political science community before moving into senior policy and university leadership roles. He served as a core author on multiple chapters and was part of the small group that repeatedly revised the project outline before co-leading the second-round revisions. After serving as President of Renmin University of China (2022–2025), he has appeared publicly in an academic capacity as a professor at Renmin’s School of International Studies.
Sun Guanhong (孙关宏)
Sun Guanhong is widely regarded as a pioneer in the rebuilding of political science in post–reform-era China, combining normative concerns about “the good” in politics with a strong emphasis on scholarly rigor. He has served as a professor and doctoral supervisor at Fudan University, and has edited or authored multiple foundational teaching texts in political science (e.g., Political Science Tutorial/Overview and works on Marxist political science), alongside later reflective monographs. His representative works include Chinese Political Science: An Exploration of Science and the Humanities (2008) and Explorations of Chinese Political Civilization (2019).
Liu Huihua (刘慧华)
Liu Huihua is an international relations scholar associated in public reporting with Harvard’s Fairbank Center as an affiliated research scholar, with research interests spanning international affairs and China’s external relations. Accounts describing his training note that he studied at Fudan and later pursued research in the United States. He has co-authored work on China’s foreign aid, linking policy evolution to broader international political dynamics.
Hu Wei (胡伟)
Hu Wei is a political scientist whose research has emphasized comparative politics, policy analysis, and Chinese government and politics. He has held senior academic leadership roles at Shanghai Jiao Tong University (including a period as dean, per institutional biography) and is also described in public sources as a professor affiliated with the Shanghai Party School system. His publications span state governance, political institutions, and modernization-related questions in Chinese politics.
Tao Dongming (陶东明)
Tao Dongming’s work sits at the intersection of public administration training and applied governance research, reflecting a career tied to the professionalization of public management education. Public conference programs identify him as Director of Fudan University’s MPA Education Center, indicating a focus on public sector management and local governance capacity-building. Fudan listings also place him among the institution’s retired political science/public administration faculty, consistent with a long teaching and program-building career.
Chen Mingming (陈明明)
Chen Mingming is a political scientist at Fudan University whose research areas include political theory, Chinese government and politics, contemporary Chinese political history, and themes of party–state construction. Within the book project, he is identified as part of the doctoral cohort contributing to the department’s larger “academic lineage” and served as author of the Chapter Six draft. His profile reflects an orientation toward theory-driven analysis of Chinese political development and institutions.
Zhao Zhimin (赵志敏)
Zhao Zhimin is a policy researcher whose publicly stated areas include Party theory, public policy, and international issues, and he has held senior roles linked to central policy research work. In late 2023 reporting, he is identified as a Party Group member of the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences (CASS), and other accounts associate him with leadership in the Central Policy Research Office’s international research portfolio. The project’s writers’ acknowledgements also places him among the political science PhDs in the department’s training pipeline that fed into the book team.
Wu Tianyong (吴天勇)
Wu Tianyong is associated in public records with cultural policy and institutional reform work, including leadership participation in drafting local cultural-industry and cultural-system reform plans (as described in library catalog metadata). A Wuhan Academy of Social Sciences report (2022) refers to a “Vice Minister Wu Tianyong” (副部长吴天勇) participating in an official research visit, indicating a role in municipal-level propaganda/theory administration at that time. His background is also described as including a political science master’s degree from Fudan University.
Li Weikang (李维康)
Li Weikang is identified in the project’s writers’ acknowledgements as an associate professor in the Department of Politics and Law at Shanghai Normal University who contributed substantively during the outline-discussion phase, though he did not take on chapter drafting due to other obligations. Beyond this acknowledgement, reliable public biographical detail is comparatively sparse in readily accessible sources. Within the project, his role is best described as a high-impact discussant and early-stage conceptual contributor.
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