Stagnant growth: Economic stress shreds Chinese social fabric

Helen Gao

For years, the mood in China has been darkening.

A weakening economy has left many disillusioned, a state of mind expressed privately at dinner tables and across the heavily controlled internet in lowered expectations and quiet anxiety. Some of them may now be surfacing in more troubling ways.

In March, a man drove a heavy construction vehicle through an outdoor market in a Beijing suburb, reportedly killing several people. In June, a small aircraft crashed into a prominent capital office building, killing the pilot and injuring 13 others in a suspected suicide. Last month, a man was arrested in Guangzhou for allegedly slashing the faces of multiple women in a busy shopping district.

Such incidents remain relatively rare and heavily censored, making motives difficult to discern. But in a country where venting publicly at government policies is dangerous, ordinary citizens are instead taking their anger and helplessness out on one another.

Intensely focused on competing with the US, Beijing is pouring enormous resources into advanced manufacturing and technology to drive future growth. During a White House summit last week, President Xi Jinping spoke confidently, asserting China was breaking new ground in its modernisation drive.

However, much of the broader economy remains weak. Unemployment is high, wages are stagnating, and households reeling from the prolonged collapse of the real estate market are sharply cutting back on spending. The government, this year, set its lowest growth target since 1991.

The impulse to find someone to blame is starkly evident in the viral online doxxing phenomenon called ba, or "to strip". In these digital campaigns, which have intensified in recent months, posses of sleuths comb through the backgrounds of high achievers, stripping them down in an aggressive hunt for evidence that family connections, fraud, or favouritism paved their way.

In late July, a 29-year-old podcaster, Zhuge Yiyang, a PhD candidate at Boston College, went viral after interviewing director Christopher Nolan on The Odyssey. Soon, however, online mobs accused Zhuge — widely praised for her intellectual depth — of plagiarising material. Though Zhuge disputed the charges, the relentless backlash forced her to cancel public appearances, leaving her emotionally exhausted.

Often, the scrutiny seems less about exposing genuine wrongdoing than reflecting a reflexive resentment of perceived elites who have become avatars of a narrowing economy. Targets have ranged from a popular actress and prominent hospital doctors to a Harvard graduate who became the first Chinese woman to give a commencement speech there. Though calling for global unity, critics accused her of using family privilege to advance her career.

Fraud, nepotism, and intellectual dishonesty are not new in China, nor is the online targeting of social inequities. What feels new is how automatic and ferocious the hunt has become amid pervasive economic anxiety over who gets ahead, and how.

Bitterness is escalating along gender lines as well. On internet forums, young men complain that a disproportionate share of worsening economic prospects falls on them. They rail against feminists, with some calling for a men's rights awakening.

Male frustration spilt onto the streets in August when young men, protesting the effeminisation of youth culture, gathered in Chongqing outside a boy band talent agency. After police action, the crowd marched down a main road demanding his release while chasing, shoving, and kicking female fans waiting outside. Photos of the women were digitally altered into pornographic images and circulated online.

Studies suggest many Chinese men, particularly those with modest resources, face mounting difficulty fulfilling traditional expectations to marry. A suitor is routinely expected to own an apartment and a car before securing a wife.

In some regions, a groom's family must also pay a "bride price" to the bride's parents. A survey of young male migrant workers in February put the average price at around 130,000 yuan ($19,000) — roughly six times their average annual savings.

Marriage prospects are compounded by the former one-child policy, which led families to abort female foetuses. Though ended a decade ago, single men outnumbered unwed women by two to one in some areas during the 2020 census. Last year, China had nearly 29 million more men than women.

The Chinese state has enormous power to steer the economy and shape public life. What it cannot simply command back into existence is goodwill between its citizens.