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BYD Chief Scientist Lian Yubo on How Basic Research Has Driven China to Global Leadership in New Energy Vehicles

On April 30, 2026, Chinese President Xi Jinping attended a symposium on strengthening basic research in Shanghai and delivered an important speech. He emphasized that basic research is the source of the entire scientific system and the starting point for solving technological problems. He called for greater efforts and more effective measures to strengthen basic research, enhance China’s capacity for original innovation, and lay a stronger foundation for building the country into a leading scientific and technological power.

The fundamental importance of basic research lies in the fact that major technological breakthroughs ultimately depend on a deep understanding of underlying mechanisms and scientific laws. Without long-term accumulation in basic research, applied technologies become like water without a source, making it difficult to overcome technological bottlenecks at their roots. Without the forward-looking guidance of basic research, industrial development can also become like a ship without a rudder, struggling to find its direction in unexplored areas. The development of China’s new energy vehicle (NEV) industry over more than three decades provides a compelling example of the value of long-term commitment to scientific research.

In 2025, China’s NEV production and sales ranked first in the world for the eleventh consecutive year, while new energy passenger vehicles accounted for 68.4 percent of the global market. The industry has therefore achieved a leading position in terms of scale and engineering capabilities. However, this leadership does not necessarily mean that China has achieved the same level of strength in fundamental theories, original scientific discoveries, or underlying technologies. Engineering excellence is not equivalent to deep theoretical accumulation. 

As global competition in the automotive industry increasingly moves from application-oriented technologies toward fundamental theories and core underlying technologies, breakthroughs in basic research have become essential for China to consolidate its leadership in NEVs and transform itself from a major automobile producer into a true automotive power.

The evolution of China’s NEV industry illustrates this transition. In the early stage, during the periods of the Eighth and Tenth Five-Year Plans, electric vehicles were incorporated into national science and technology programs, and the “Three Verticals and Three Horizontals” technical framework under the 863 Program established major directions for research. Universities and research institutes played the leading role, creating the initial technological foundation and cultivating China’s first generation of NEV researchers. 

However, investment was relatively limited, and research was often disconnected from industrial needs and focused insufficiently on fundamental scientific questions. Some companies had already begun independent exploration. BYD, for example, established a central research department and invested in electrochemical research, particularly in battery cycle life and safety, laying the groundwork for its later development.

As the industry entered the commercialization stage, research became increasingly driven by practical engineering requirements. The launch of the “Ten Cities, Thousand Vehicles” demonstration program in 2009 accelerated the market adoption of NEVs. Consumer demand for longer driving ranges and greater reliability encouraged research into battery materials, manufacturing processes, and other key technologies. This market-driven approach improved the performance of critical components, but many fundamental research achievements remained concentrated in universities and research institutes, while connections between scientific discoveries and industrial engineering were still relatively weak.

With the rapid expansion of the NEV market, Chinese companies began to develop stronger in-house research capabilities. They established independent research departments, joint laboratories, and other collaborative innovation platforms. Basic research gradually shifted from simply supporting existing products to helping define future technology directions. BYD’s Blade Battery is one example. 

By starting from actual vehicle requirements and combining fundamental electrochemical understanding with innovative product and manufacturing design, the company significantly improved battery safety and system integration, contributing to the renewed prominence of lithium iron phosphate batteries. 

Nevertheless, much of the research during this stage remained incremental, focusing on optimization rather than genuinely disruptive innovation. Leading companies therefore began to deepen cooperation with universities and research institutes, forming new models in which companies identify industrial problems and academic institutions help address the underlying scientific questions.

Today, however, the industry is entering a new phase. As NEVs become increasingly widespread and their applications more diverse, conventional theories and engineering approaches are approaching their limits. Requirements for longer range, faster charging, greater safety, and more intelligent driving are pushing the industry into technological “uncharted territory.” At this point, simply improving existing products is no longer sufficient. Companies must increasingly define new research questions themselves and invest in original scientific exploration.

For enterprises operating at the technological frontier, basic research should therefore be closely connected with long-term strategic needs. The NEV industry can be understood as a five-level structure, progressing from mechanisms and materials to components, systems, and complete vehicles. 

Chinese companies have developed strong capabilities at the component, system, and vehicle levels, but their accumulation of fundamental research at the mechanism and material levels remains comparatively limited. Strategic basic research can help bridge this gap. Such research typically requires five to ten years or even longer, has the potential to redefine products if successful, and provides a technological foundation that can support multiple products and applications.

Its value can be seen in several ways. First, a deeper understanding of underlying mechanisms can reduce engineering uncertainty and the cost of trial and error. For example, battery safety under collision involves complex interactions among material damage, structural dynamics, and electrochemical processes. 

Understanding these mechanisms scientifically can provide quantitative guidance for engineering design and significantly reduce repetitive testing. Second, basic research can transform vague engineering experience into clearly defined scientific boundaries. In electric drive systems, for instance, understanding the fundamental limits of power density, temperature, noise, and other parameters can make system design more predictable, measurable, and reliable. 

Third, fundamental breakthroughs can enable entirely new technological architectures. BYD’s e⁴ platform, for example, moves beyond conventional mechanical four-wheel-drive structures by using independently controlled electric motors and advanced coordination algorithms. This represents a shift from optimizing individual components to fundamentally restructuring vehicle dynamics and control.

Looking forward, several areas deserve particular attention. Next-generation batteries will require breakthroughs in energy density, safety, cycle life, and performance under extreme conditions, as conventional electrochemical systems approach their theoretical limits. Comprehensive vehicle intelligence will also require fundamental research into perception, cognition, vehicle dynamics, and control, enabling intelligent driving and intelligent chassis systems to work together at millisecond-level speeds. 

In addition, automotive semiconductors and industrial software are becoming common foundations for both electrification and intelligent vehicles. Research into chip architecture, real-time operating systems, functional safety, and reliability will be critical to achieving greater technological autonomy.

The key challenge, therefore, is not simply to conduct more basic research, but to establish an effective pathway connecting scientific discovery, engineering development, and industrial commercialization. This requires stronger coordination between industry and academia. 

Companies are often focused on engineering problems, cost, and development cycles, while universities tend to prioritize scientific questions and theoretical contributions. Companies should consequently translate complex industrial and commercial problems into clearly defined scientific questions and regularly communicate these research needs to universities and research institutes.

At the same time, major strategic research projects require stable, long-term, and concentrated investment. For areas of high strategic importance, resources should not be dispersed across numerous short-term projects. Instead, interdisciplinary teams should be formed and sufficient resources concentrated on key scientific challenges. Talent development is equally important. Enterprises, universities, and research institutes should establish more flexible mechanisms for two-way talent mobility and develop interdisciplinary researchers who understand both fundamental science and industrial engineering.

Most importantly, China needs to establish a complete innovation chain from “0 to 1 to 10 to 100.” The 0-to-1 stage is the discovery of new scientific principles, in which universities and research institutes play a major role while companies participate at an early stage. The 1-to-10 stage focuses on turning scientific discoveries into stable technologies through engineering validation and prototype development, with enterprises taking the lead. The 10-to-100 stage is the large-scale commercialization of mature technologies, which requires companies to integrate them systematically into products and industrial systems. Building research platforms, pilot-testing facilities, and evaluation mechanisms that support all three stages will help ensure that scientific discoveries can become genuine industrial capabilities.

China’s more than thirty years of NEV development demonstrate that sustainable technological leadership cannot rely solely on manufacturing scale or engineering efficiency. The most important competitive advantages often lie beneath the visible product, in the scientific principles, materials, algorithms, and technological architectures that make innovation possible. As China moves from being a major automobile producer toward becoming an automotive power, the decisive competition will increasingly take place at the level of basic research.

The next stage of China’s NEV development therefore requires greater strategic patience, sustained investment, and a willingness to tolerate failure. Basic research cannot always produce immediate commercial returns, but it creates the technological options that determine what industries can achieve years or even decades later. 

By strengthening original scientific research, connecting it more effectively with engineering and commercialization, and building a long-term innovation ecosystem, China can turn its existing engineering and industrial advantages into deeper and more sustainable technological leadership, providing a stronger foundation for the development of a world-leading automotive industry.

Source: bulletin cas cn, BYD, global times, scmp

2026: The Year Physical AI Enters Mass Production Through the Automobile

The automotive industry has reached a defining moment in 2026. After years of rapid advances in large language models, the AI industry has arrived at a shared realization: intelligence confined to a screen is ultimately limited. To unlock its full potential, AI must move beyond generating information and begin interacting with the physical world. It needs a body.

The evolution of AI is therefore entering a new phase. While foundation models and AI agents have transformed digital experiences, the next frontier is Embodied AI, intelligence capable of perceiving, reasoning, and acting in real-world environments. This marks a shift away from competing solely on model size and cloud computing power toward integrating AI deeply with physical products. Among all intelligent devices, the automobile has emerged as the most compelling platform for this transition.

Unlike smartphones or smart home devices, which are largely limited to touchscreens and voice interfaces, vehicles combine rich multimodal perception, powerful onboard computing, mobility, and precise physical control. They are uniquely positioned to connect digital intelligence with real-world execution.

This transformation is far more significant than introducing a smarter voice assistant into the cabin. It fundamentally redefines the relationship between people and their vehicles. Traditional in-car systems require users to adapt to predefined commands and rigid interaction logic. A true AI agent reverses that relationship. Instead of demanding precise instructions, it understands human intent, interprets context, anticipates needs, and responds proactively. It recognizes fatigue, stress, urgency, and changing circumstances, enabling a more natural, intuitive, and human-centered driving experience.

This vision became tangible when Geely introduced its cockpit-driving integrated AI agent, Super EVA, and brought it into mass production on the Zeekr 8X. Rather than treating AI as another software feature, Geely positioned it as the central intelligence that connects perception, decision-making, vehicle control, and digital services into one unified experience.

As AI enters the automotive industry, not every approach is equally meaningful. Many manufacturers have simply integrated third-party large language models into their infotainment systems, enabling conversations, content generation, or entertainment while marketing these capabilities as intelligent transformation. However, the future of automotive AI extends far beyond conversational interfaces.

The intelligent agent is becoming the primary gateway through which users interact with every aspect of the vehicle, from hardware and chassis control to navigation, mobility services, payments, and an expanding ecosystem of digital experiences. Whoever controls this layer controls the user’s intent. Relying entirely on external AI providers risks reducing automakers to hardware manufacturers while strategic control over user experience shifts elsewhere.

Geely has pursued a different path. Super EVA is built upon the company’s long-term investment in self-developed voice technologies, integrated with StepFun’s Step 3.7 end-to-end foundation model and customized automotive AI agents. This combination allows Geely to retain ownership of interaction design, safety boundaries, engineering optimization, and long-term service evolution while leveraging the reasoning capabilities of advanced foundation models.

Building an automotive AI agent, however, is fundamentally different from developing consumer software. Unlike digital applications, every AI decision inside a vehicle has physical consequences. The challenge is not simply making AI more intelligent in the cloud, but ensuring that every decision can be translated into safe, reliable, real-time vehicle actions.

Achieving this requires deep integration between the intelligent cockpit and autonomous driving systems. The cockpit must understand driving scenarios, road regulations, and vehicle dynamics, while autonomous driving systems must expose decision-making processes that have traditionally remained within black-box architectures. Only through this two-way integration can AI move seamlessly from understanding human intent to executing safe physical actions.

Equally important is the underlying engineering foundation. High-bandwidth communication, cross-domain computing, real-time scheduling, and multiple layers of safety redundancy are essential prerequisites for turning AI reasoning into physical vehicle control.

Geely’s ability to commercialize this vision is the result of years of investment across the full AI technology stack. Its service-oriented vehicle architecture, Xingrui Intelligent Computing Center with 23.5 EFLOPS of computing power, millions of newly collected real-world driving data points every year, and continuous development of proprietary voice technologies and AI algorithms together form the infrastructure that enables fast, reliable, and safe cross-domain collaboration.

The value of this integration becomes clear in everyday situations. Imagine driving to work on a busy Monday morning with an important meeting approaching. You simply say, “Hi Super EVA, I need to arrive before nine. I’m feeling tired, please drive me to the office.” During the journey, you add, “Order me an iced Americano along the way.”

Without requiring multiple separate commands, the AI understands your priorities, plans the optimal route, activates intelligent driving assistance where appropriate, coordinates the journey, locates a nearby coffee shop, places the order, completes payment, and ensures everything aligns with your arrival time. Instead of executing isolated instructions, the AI orchestrates multiple services across the physical and digital worlds to complete an entire mobility task on your behalf.

This represents a fundamental shift from reactive software to proactive intelligence.

The AI industry has never lacked ambitious visions. Tesla’s integration of Grok into its broader ecosystem points toward a future in which automotive AI and humanoid robotics share common intelligence. Across the industry, demonstrations of AI agents have become common at major auto shows and technology events.

Yet the automotive industry is ultimately defined not by demonstrations, but by production.

Mass production remains the only meaningful benchmark capable of separating technological breakthroughs from conceptual hype. Automotive AI must perform consistently not just in ideal testing environments, but across millions of kilometers, countless weather conditions, unpredictable traffic situations, and complex long-tail scenarios while maintaining uncompromising safety standards.

This is where engineering discipline becomes more important than marketing narratives.

Super EVA has already moved beyond the demonstration stage into large-scale deployment. Following its production launch on the Zeekr 8X, the system is scheduled to reach hundreds of thousands of existing Zeekr owners through over-the-air updates before expanding across Lynk & Co and Geely models. Such rapid deployment across multiple brands and vehicle platforms reflects not only technological maturity but also manufacturing capability, software validation, supply chain coordination, and organizational execution at scale.

Ultimately, the significance of automotive AI extends beyond the vehicle itself.

As discussions around embodied intelligence continue, many ask whether future digital experiences will revolve around smartphones or automobiles. The answer is increasingly that they will complement one another. Smartphones remain indispensable companions for everyday digital life, while vehicles occupy a unique role as intelligent physical spaces capable of movement, perception, and real-world interaction.

The automobile therefore becomes the bridge connecting people, vehicles, homes, and services into one continuous intelligent ecosystem. Super EVA represents more than a new product or feature. It demonstrates how AI can move beyond conversation and begin creating tangible value in the physical world. More importantly, it reflects a broader direction for the industry, one in which intelligence is measured not by how convincingly it talks, but by how safely, reliably, and naturally it acts.

As the era of Physical AI begins, the companies that will shape the future are unlikely to be those with the loudest announcements or the most impressive demonstrations. They will be the ones capable of translating advanced intelligence into products that millions of people can trust and use every day. In that sense, the journey from digital intelligence to physical execution has already begun, and the automobile is emerging as its most important proving ground.

Source: 36kr, zgqcdt, sina, sohu, zhihu

AI and the Metropolis: A Mutual Journey Toward the Future of Civilization

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The 2026 World Artificial Intelligence Conference and High-Level Meeting on Global AI Governance marked more than another milestone in technological development. It signaled a turning point in humanity’s relationship with artificial intelligence. 

With the establishment of the World AI Cooperation Organization, alongside the release of the conference’s Chair’s Statement and national action plans, global AI governance began moving beyond fragmented national approaches toward coordinated institutions, shared rules, and collective responsibility. This transition reflects a profound reality: artificial intelligence is no longer simply a technological issue, and it has become a defining force shaping the future of human civilization.

Few places illustrate this transformation more vividly than Shanghai. As one of the world’s largest and most dynamic cities, it has become not only a center for AI innovation but also a living laboratory where intelligent technologies and urban life continuously reshape one another. The relationship between AI and the modern metropolis is no longer one of technology serving the city. Instead, cities and artificial intelligence are entering an era of mutual evolution, where each becomes both the catalyst and the beneficiary of the other’s transformation.

Humanity once debated whether machines could think. Today, the more pressing question is different: as machines increasingly think alongside us, how should humanity redesign its cities, institutions, and values? This question may ultimately define the next chapter of civilization.

Large cities have always been engines of progress because they concentrate on what innovation requires most: people, industries, infrastructure, capital, and ideas. Yet these same characteristics also generate extraordinary complexity. Population density, massive transportation networks, intricate public services, environmental pressures, and increasingly interconnected economic systems make governing a megacity one of humanity’s greatest organizational challenges.

For decades, urban governance largely relied on human experience, fragmented information, and reactive decision-making. Congestion was managed after it occurred. Infrastructure failures were repaired after damage became visible. Public services responded to demand rather than anticipating it. Such approaches proved increasingly insufficient as cities expanded beyond the limits of traditional management.

Artificial intelligence changes this equation.

What makes AI particularly valuable is not merely automation but its ability to perceive patterns invisible to human observation, integrate enormous volumes of data, and generate predictive insights at unprecedented speed. In cities like Shanghai, intelligent traffic systems forecast congestion before roads become gridlocked. 

Smart infrastructure continuously monitors bridges, pipelines, and flood defenses. Digital government platforms eliminate administrative silos by connecting agencies that once operated independently. AI-assisted healthcare, elderly care, and community services increasingly bring high-quality public resources closer to every neighborhood rather than concentrating them in city centers.

The city itself becomes a vast learning environment. Every street, hospital, subway station, industrial park, and residential community generates data that continuously improves intelligent systems. Unlike laboratory experiments, cities provide real-world complexity, uncertainty, and diversity. They are not simply places where AI is deployed; they are environments where AI matures.

At the same time, artificial intelligence fundamentally reshapes how cities function.

Urban governance is gradually shifting from responding to crises toward anticipating them. Instead of merely repairing problems, intelligent systems help prevent them. Instead of relying solely on periodic inspections, cities increasingly operate through continuous perception and dynamic coordination. Decision-makers gain the ability to understand urban systems as interconnected networks rather than isolated departments.

Yet AI is not replacing human governance. On the contrary, its greatest value lies in strengthening human judgment. Algorithms excel at processing information, but cities are ultimately governed by values, ethics, and political choices that remain profoundly human. The future belongs not to machine-led cities but to cities where human wisdom and artificial intelligence complement one another. The influence of AI extends far beyond public administration. It is also redefining urban economies.

Megacities have long served as economic powerhouses because they connect innovation with industrial capacity. Artificial intelligence accelerates this role by transforming manufacturing through digital twins, intelligent quality control, and industrial foundation models. Financial services become more resilient through intelligent risk management. Global trade benefits from smarter logistics and cross-border digital platforms. Cultural industries increasingly combine historical heritage with generative technologies, allowing cities to preserve memory while creating entirely new forms of expression.

This creates a powerful cycle of mutual reinforcement. Cities provide the ecosystems where AI technologies are developed, tested, and refined. AI, in turn, strengthens cities by generating new industries, improving productivity, and enhancing competitiveness. Urban development and technological innovation no longer advance separately, and they increasingly evolve together.

Yet perhaps the most meaningful transformation occurs not in industry but in everyday life.

The true measure of a great city has never been its skyline or economic output alone. It lies in whether ordinary people experience dignity, opportunity, and security. Artificial intelligence possesses remarkable potential to reduce longstanding inequalities that have challenged urban development for decades.

Remote medical diagnostics can extend high-quality healthcare to underserved communities. Intelligent educational platforms can narrow disparities in learning opportunities. Smart elderly care technologies enable aging populations to live more independently and safely. Accessible digital public services allow governments to respond more precisely to diverse social needs.

Technology reaches its highest purpose when it becomes nearly invisible—when it quietly removes barriers, expands opportunity, and improves daily life without drawing attention to itself. The ultimate success of AI will not be measured by the sophistication of algorithms but by the extent to which every citizen benefits from their application.

Nevertheless, every technological revolution carries its own paradox. The same algorithms that optimize public services can also reinforce hidden biases. The same interconnected data that enable intelligent governance can expose societies to unprecedented cybersecurity risks. The same predictive capabilities that improve efficiency may also raise difficult questions about privacy, transparency, accountability, and individual autonomy.

As artificial intelligence assumes greater influence over public decision-making, technical excellence alone is no longer sufficient. Governance must evolve as rapidly as innovation itself. This requires moving beyond the traditional belief that regulation inevitably slows technological progress. In reality, well-designed governance creates the trust that allows innovation to flourish sustainably. Ethical standards, transparent algorithms, data protection, and clear institutional accountability are not obstacles to AI development; they are the conditions under which society is willing to embrace it.

Technology without governance risks becoming uncontrolled power. Governance without innovation risks becoming a stagnant bureaucracy. Sustainable progress demands that both evolve together. This is precisely why the emergence of international AI governance institutions represents more than diplomatic symbolism. Artificial intelligence is inherently global. Algorithms cross borders. Data flows transcend jurisdictions. Risks and opportunities alike cannot be managed by any single nation acting alone.

The establishment of the World AI Cooperation Organization represents an important step toward building shared global mechanisms capable of balancing innovation with responsibility, national development with international cooperation, and technological competition with common human interests. It reflects an increasingly recognized understanding that the future of AI governance must be collaborative rather than fragmented.

Shanghai occupies a uniquely significant position within this historical transformation. As one of the world’s largest metropolitan regions, it combines advanced technological capacity, complex governance challenges, global economic connectivity, and a longstanding tradition of openness. Its experience demonstrates how local innovation can contribute to global public goods.

More importantly, it illustrates a broader shift in China’s role within global AI governance, from participating in existing discussions to helping shape international agendas and institutional frameworks. The evolution of Chinese megacities increasingly provides practical experience that may inform how other rapidly urbanizing societies approach intelligent governance.

History reminds us that every great leap in civilization has emerged from the interaction between transformative technologies and evolving social institutions. Steam power reshaped industrial cities. Electricity transformed modern life. The internet redefined global connectivity. Artificial intelligence may now become the foundational technology of the intelligent city.

Yet history also teaches another lesson: technology alone never determines the future. Human choices do. The cities of tomorrow will not be remembered simply for deploying the most advanced AI systems. They will be judged by whether they used intelligence to deepen justice rather than inequality, strengthen trust rather than surveillance, expand opportunity rather than exclusion, and enrich humanity rather than diminish it.

The future therefore is not about cities becoming more intelligent while people become less essential. It is about creating cities where artificial intelligence amplifies human wisdom, where governance remains rooted in human values, and where innovation serves the enduring aspirations of civilization.

Perhaps the most profound relationship emerging in the twenty-first century is not between humans and machines, nor between technology and governance, but between artificial intelligence and the city itself. One supplies the complexity that inspires innovation; the other provides the intelligence that enables complexity to flourish.

When cities cultivate artificial intelligence responsibly, and artificial intelligence elevates cities humanely, they do more than transform urban life, and they redefine what civilization itself can become.

Source: the paper, cgtn, south china morning post, x

From Security Cooperation to Strategic Confrontation: How Japan and the Philippines Are Raising Tensions in the South China Sea

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Ten years after the so-called South China Sea arbitration award was issued on July 12, 2016, the dispute has long ceased to be merely a legal disagreement between China and the Philippines. 

It has increasingly been instrumentalized by external powers as a political and strategic tool for shaping the regional security order and constraining China. The latest example came on July 12, 2026, when 14 countries, including the United States, Japan, Australia and the Philippines, issued a joint statement purportedly commemorating the tenth anniversary of the award. 

By using the anniversary to reaffirm support for Manila’s unilateral maritime claims, these countries have once again turned a bilateral dispute into a platform for political mobilization and strategic alignment.

China has consistently maintained that it does not accept or recognize the arbitration award and does not accept any claims or actions based on it. Beijing’s position is that China’s territorial sovereignty and maritime rights and interests in the South China Sea are not affected by the award under any circumstances. 

Whatever one’s view of the legal merits of the case, the more consequential development over the past decade has been the transformation of the arbitration issue into a broader instrument of geopolitical competition.

The Philippines has played an active role in this process. On the one hand, Manila has sought greater coordination with other South China Sea claimant states, including Vietnam, on issues ranging from maritime boundaries to the construction and occupation of disputed features. On the other hand, it has deepened security cooperation with external powers such as Japan, the United States and Australia in an effort to compensate for its own limited maritime capabilities and increase its leverage in dealing with China. 

Japan’s growing involvement deserves particular attention because bilateral security cooperation has moved well beyond traditional maritime law-enforcement assistance and capacity building.

The trajectory of Japan-Philippines relations illustrates how the South China Sea is becoming embedded in a much broader regional security architecture. Following the entry into force of the Reciprocal Access Agreement between Japan and the Philippines in September 2025, the two countries signed an Acquisition and Cross-Servicing Agreement in January 2026, further institutionalizing their defense cooperation. 

In April, around 1,400 Japanese Self-Defense Force personnel reportedly participated in the Balikatan exercises alongside U.S. and Philippine forces, while maritime cooperation involving Japan, the United States, Australia and the Philippines continued to expand. 

In May, Japanese and Philippine leaders also reached an understanding on promoting the transfer of defense equipment, including destroyers, TC-90 aircraft and radar systems. These developments suggest that Japan’s involvement is shifting from diplomatic support and capacity building toward a more operational and institutionalized military role.

Japan’s motivations are broader than the South China Sea dispute itself. One objective is to strengthen the linkage among the South China Sea, the East China Sea and the Taiwan Strait within a single regional security framework. 

By repeatedly emphasizing a narrative of alleged Chinese “coercion” at sea, Tokyo can portray developments far beyond its immediate territorial waters as part of a common strategic challenge. This, in turn, provides additional political justification for expanding defense capabilities, increasing defense-equipment exports and broadening the scope of the Self-Defense Forces’ overseas activities.

The Philippines also serves as an important strategic node in Japan’s wider regional strategy. By working more closely with Manila, Tokyo can connect its “Free and Open Indo-Pacific” vision with the U.S.-Japan alliance and a growing network of minilateral security arrangements in Southeast Asia. 

Support for the arbitration award meanwhile allows Japan to present itself as a defender of the “rules-based order,” while blending legal arguments with broader geopolitical competition. The danger is that international law may increasingly be invoked not simply as a framework for resolving disputes, but as a political instrument for consolidating strategic blocs.

For the Marcos administration, closer security ties with Japan, the United States and Australia offer clear political and strategic advantages. External assistance can strengthen the Philippines’ maritime capabilities, respond to domestic nationalist sentiment and provide Manila with greater leverage during maritime confrontations with China. Yet external backing can also create unintended risks. 

If political or military support from partners is interpreted as a security guarantee for increasingly forward-leaning actions, Manila may have greater incentives to test the limits of the existing status quo. At the same time, external powers may regard individual maritime incidents as opportunities to demonstrate alliance credibility or expand their military presence. What begins as a localized confrontation could therefore acquire wider strategic implications.

The continued deepening of Japan-Philippines security cooperation risks producing three broader consequences for the South China Sea. First, it could intensify the regional security dilemma. More warships, military aircraft, coast guard vessels and joint exercises inevitably mean more frequent and complicated encounters at sea and in the air, increasing the possibility that an accident or tactical miscalculation could escalate into a broader interstate crisis.

Second, it could accelerate the transformation of the South China Sea dispute from a collection of specific maritime disagreements into a form of bloc-based strategic confrontation. Issues that should primarily be managed by the directly concerned parties through dialogue and negotiation are increasingly being framed as part of a broader struggle against unilateral actions. This risks placing additional pressure on ASEAN members to take sides in a competition they have strong interests in avoiding.

Third, greater involvement by external military powers could undermine ASEAN’s central role in regional governance. ASEAN documents have repeatedly emphasized dialogue, restraint and cooperation as the preferred means of maintaining regional stability, while negotiations toward an effective and substantive Code of Conduct in the South China Sea remain an important regional objective. If major-power rivalry and alliance politics increasingly shape the environment in which these negotiations take place, the space for ASEAN-led diplomacy could become narrower.

The South China Sea cannot achieve lasting stability through an ever-expanding cycle of military deployments, deterrence and counter-deterrence. China rejects the arbitration award and advocates resolving maritime disputes through negotiations and consultations among the directly concerned states. Whatever differences exist over competing legal and political narratives, the practical alternative to confrontation remains dialogue.

Regional countries should therefore continue implementing the Declaration on the Conduct of Parties in the South China Sea, accelerate consultations on the Code of Conduct, and strengthen mechanisms for maritime communication, crisis management and the prevention of accidental escalation.

External countries can make constructive contributions through search and rescue, disaster relief, environmental protection and navigational safety. They should not, however, turn the South China Sea into another arena for demonstrating military power or constructing exclusive security blocs.

The tenth anniversary of the arbitration award should not become another occasion for deepening division. If the South China Sea is increasingly treated as a stage for alliance politics, legal disputes will become harder to manage and regional security dilemmas more difficult to contain. The sustainable path forward lies not in transforming maritime disputes into geopolitical confrontation, but in restoring restraint, dialogue and cooperation to the center of regional diplomacy.

Source: scmp, navy mil, mofa go jp, japanupclose, indo pacific defense forum, xinhua

The Algorithmic Violence of the West: Digital Capitalism, Cognitive Control, and the Erosion of Freedom

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“Algorithmic violence” refers to a new form of power constructed by contemporary digital capitalism through the appropriation of data, platform monopolies, and algorithmic governance. Unlike the Hobbesian Leviathan, which exercises power through visible coercion, or the Orwellian model of overt surveillance and repression, algorithmic violence operates through a softer and more sophisticated form of domination. 

Capital functions as the hidden sovereign, algorithms as its instrument of power, and digital platforms as the institutional infrastructure through which this power is exercised. Individuals appear to possess more choices than ever before, yet increasingly lose the capacity to determine what they see, what they believe, and why they believe it. The greatest danger of algorithmic violence therefore lies not in its explicit destruction of freedom, but in its ability to disguise control as convenience, discipline as personalization, and obedience as individual choice. Its ultimate achievement is the production of a social environment in which people experience themselves as free precisely while their autonomy is being progressively diminished.

Digitalization has not dissolved the fundamental power relations of capitalism. Instead, it has provided capital with new technological mechanisms for accumulation and domination. In digital capitalism, data functions as a new form of productive resource, platforms constitute new centers of economic and social power, and algorithms provide the crucial mechanism through which economic power is transformed into the capacity to shape social behavior. 

Capital continuously captures the traces individuals leave behind through searches, clicks, browsing histories, purchases, interactions, locations, and even emotional responses. These traces are transformed into calculable and commercially exploitable assets. Smart devices, social media, and the Internet of Things have extended this process from public spaces into the most intimate dimensions of everyday life. Individuals are increasingly rendered visible, measurable, predictable, and governable.

The problem is therefore not merely the loss of privacy. It is the emergence of a social condition in which individuals know that their behavior may constantly be observed, recorded, analyzed, and evaluated. Such awareness can produce a chilling effect: people modify what they say, what they search for, and what they do because they anticipate possible consequences. Power no longer needs to prohibit an action directly. It only needs to create the perception that one is being watched. Surveillance thus becomes self-discipline, and external control becomes internalized restraint.

Data accumulation subsequently becomes platform monopoly. Companies such as Google, Meta, Amazon, Apple, and Microsoft have consolidated enormous economic and informational power through network effects, economies of scale, proprietary infrastructures, and control over user data. Traditional monopolies primarily involved control over physical means of production and markets. Digital monopolies extend this power to the infrastructures through which information, social relations, and public attention are organized. The more users a platform attracts, the more data it collects; the more data it collects, the more precisely its algorithms can predict and personalize; the more personalized its services become, the more users it attracts. This self-reinforcing cycle produces a form of digital enclosure in which a small number of private corporations increasingly determine the conditions under which social communication takes place.

Algorithms transform this economic concentration into a deeper form of social power. Data can record behavior, but algorithms can predict, classify, rank, and influence it. Algorithms are not politically or economically neutral. Their objectives, training data, optimization criteria, and recommendation systems embody particular institutional priorities. When platforms optimize for clicks, engagement, watch time, and advertising revenue, algorithms are structurally encouraged to privilege whatever captures attention rather than whatever is most accurate, rational, or socially valuable. Technological “optimization” thus becomes a mechanism of capitalist discipline.

This discipline begins at the level of cognitive input. Individuals are confronted with an unprecedented abundance of information, yet abundance does not necessarily produce knowledge. Personalized recommendation systems increasingly replace active exploration with automated selection. Algorithms infer users’ preferences from previous behavior and continuously provide similar content, thereby producing filter bubbles and information cocoons. 

Confirmation bias is consequently reinforced by technological design: individuals encounter more information that confirms what they already believe and fewer arguments that challenge their assumptions. Society appears to inhabit one interconnected information space, while in reality citizens increasingly occupy different algorithmically constructed realities.

The consequences become even more serious when algorithms contribute to the production of simulated reality. Under an attention-driven business model, factual accuracy is not necessarily what determines visibility. Content capable of generating outrage, fear, excitement, or controversy often performs better than complex and carefully contextualized information. Fake news, conspiracy narratives, political manipulation, and synthetic media can therefore acquire substantial visibility. 

The political controversies surrounding the 2016 U.S. presidential election and the British referendum, as well as the subsequent proliferation of AI-generated political deepfakes, demonstrate that algorithms do not merely filter reality; they can increasingly participate in producing alternative versions of reality. When citizens can no longer reliably distinguish between fact, opinion, propaganda, and synthetic fabrication, the shared epistemic foundation necessary for democratic politics begins to erode.

Algorithmic domination does not stop at determining what people see. It increasingly influences how they think. In the attention economy, complex arguments are structurally disadvantaged because they require time, concentration, and cognitive effort, whereas short, emotionally charged, and highly stimulating content can be consumed and circulated almost instantaneously. Deep reading and sustained reflection are gradually displaced by fragmented consumption. 

Algorithms do not need to prevent people from thinking. They only need to make thinking appear unnecessary. When individuals become accustomed to receiving preselected information, simplified explanations, and algorithmically generated conclusions, independent judgment is gradually replaced by cognitive outsourcing.

The result is not conventional ideological indoctrination but a subtler form of cognitive impoverishment. Individuals retain the formal right to think for themselves while increasingly losing the intellectual conditions necessary to do so. Critical thinking requires exposure to disagreement, uncertainty, complexity, and competing interpretations. Yet algorithmically organized environments tend to reward familiarity, immediacy, and emotional confirmation. 

Users are therefore encouraged to remain within cognitive communities whose members share similar assumptions. These communities provide belonging and emotional security, but they also intensify polarization and distrust toward outsiders. Social differences are transformed into epistemic divisions, while political disagreement becomes a conflict between mutually exclusive identities.

The transformation of cognition becomes explicitly political when algorithms begin to govern emotional attention. Digital platforms systematically reward high-arousal emotions such as anger, fear, resentment, and moral outrage because such emotions generate interaction and prolong engagement. As a consequence, public discourse can undergo a process of adverse selection in which information with the greatest social value is displaced by information with the greatest capacity for circulation. Complex policy questions receive less attention because they lack the dramatic simplicity required by the attention economy, while polarizing narratives and symbolic conflicts are continuously amplified.

Political identity consequently becomes a form of digital currency. Divisions between left and right, red and blue, insiders and outsiders, are easier to circulate than nuanced arguments about public policy. Individuals are encouraged to interpret political questions through the lens of group belonging rather than independent judgment. The algorithmic organization of attention thus transforms social difference into commercial value: polarization produces engagement, engagement produces data, and data produces profit.

At this point, algorithmic violence begins to threaten the foundations of democracy itself. Democracy requires more than elections and formal political rights. It presupposes citizens capable of forming relatively autonomous judgments, accessing diverse information, expressing disagreement, deliberating with others, and translating their preferences into collective decisions. 

If individuals’ informational environments, political emotions, and cognitive frameworks are systematically shaped by privately controlled algorithms, formal political freedom may increasingly coexist with substantive political dependence.

The first consequence is the weakening of democratic decision-making. Traditional democratic theory assumes that citizens express political preferences and that institutions aggregate these preferences through procedures of representation and deliberation. Algorithmic systems introduce a disturbing reversal: citizens may increasingly be represented not by what they consciously express, but by what platforms infer about them. 

Political preferences can be predicted from behavioral data, segmented into micro-targeted audiences, and acted upon before individuals fully recognize those preferences themselves. The citizen risks becoming less a political subject than an object of political computation.

This creates the possibility of what might be called algorithmic representation. 

Platforms can simulate public opinion by aggregating behavioral traces, engagement statistics, and emotional reactions. Yet the resulting “public voice” may not represent autonomous political judgment at all. It may simply reflect the outcomes of algorithmic selection and capitalist optimization. The danger is that the appearance of democratic participation conceals the displacement of genuine participation. Citizens are given the sensation of being represented while their capacity for collective self-government is gradually weakened.

The second consequence concerns freedom of expression. Digital platforms have undoubtedly lowered the barriers to political speech. Yet the right to speak and the ability to be heard are no longer equivalent. Platform governance determines not only what users may post, but also how widely their speech can circulate. Content moderation, recommendation systems, ranking mechanisms, account restrictions, and differential visibility create a hierarchy of attention. A citizen may possess the formal right to speak while lacking any meaningful ability to reach a public audience.

This transforms the classical conception of the marketplace of ideas. Digital platforms are not neutral spaces in which competing opinions automatically receive equal opportunities to be heard. They are privately governed communication infrastructures whose rules are often opaque and whose economic incentives influence the distribution of visibility. 

Expression can therefore become commodified: attention itself becomes a scarce resource, and those with greater economic or technological capacity can acquire greater amplification. Freedom of speech risks being transformed from an equal political right into a competition for algorithmic visibility.

The third consequence is the erosion of political efficacy. Digital participation often creates the appearance of empowerment. Citizens can like, share, comment, sign petitions, join online campaigns, and participate in virtual debates within seconds. Yet symbolic participation does not necessarily translate into institutional influence. Individuals may experience an immediate sense of political agency while remaining largely disconnected from the processes through which public policy is actually made. This produces a paradox of digital democracy: the easier political participation becomes, the less capable participation may become of changing political reality.

When repeated digital participation fails to generate substantive institutional responses, political frustration can gradually become political apathy. Citizens may begin to doubt whether their actions matter, whether institutions are responsive, and ultimately whether democratic participation itself has meaningful value. The most effective form of domination is therefore not necessarily the prohibition of resistance, but the creation of a political environment in which resistance appears futile.

Algorithmic violence ultimately exposes a deeper crisis concerning the meaning of freedom. Classical freedom involves both freedom from arbitrary interference and the positive capacity to form judgments and act according to one’s own will. Under digital capitalism, however, freedom risks becoming a preconfigured experience. 

Individuals are not necessarily deprived of choices; rather, the choices presented to them are increasingly structured by systems they cannot see or control. They are not necessarily forced to adopt particular opinions; rather, the informational environment in which opinions emerge is increasingly engineered in advance. They are not prevented from speaking; rather, the conditions determining whether their speech becomes socially consequential are controlled by private algorithms.

Yet this critique should not become a form of technological determinism. Algorithms themselves are neither inherently emancipatory nor inherently oppressive. The decisive question is the power structure within which technology operates. The same digital technologies that can facilitate knowledge, communication, and democratic participation can also deepen monopoly, surveillance, manipulation, and polarization. The problem is therefore not technology as such, but the concentration of technological power in the hands of private capital without adequate democratic accountability.

Escaping algorithmic violence consequently does not require abandoning technology. It requires breaking the exclusive alliance between capital and algorithmic power and restoring human agency over the infrastructures that increasingly organize social life. Algorithmic systems must become subject to meaningful transparency, data rights, institutional accountability, public oversight, and democratic regulation. Most importantly, citizens must regain the capacity to understand, question, and contest the mechanisms through which algorithms shape their informational and political environments.

Socrates used questioning to force individuals to confront assumptions they had never examined; contemporary algorithms use recommendation to make those examinations appear unnecessary. The contrast captures the fundamental tension between classical freedom and digital power. Freedom does not mean merely possessing access to unlimited information. It means retaining the capacity to decide what deserves attention, to encounter what challenges one’s convictions, to reflect before responding, and to determine one’s political judgment without invisible manipulation. The central struggle of the algorithmic age is therefore not between humans and machines, but between human autonomy and the concentration of technological power.

If algorithms remain instruments of capital accumulation, they may transform democratic freedom into a carefully managed illusion. But if technological power is brought under democratic control, algorithms can instead become instruments for expanding human knowledge and political participation. The essential task is thus to ensure that algorithms remain tools of human beings rather than human beings becoming objects of algorithms. Only then can digital civilization fulfill its emancipatory promise instead of becoming a new and subtler architecture of domination.

Source: ssaj ajcass, cass, oxford acadmic, epale, scalevise

From Aggressor to Victim: Japan’s Long Campaign to Rewrite Its Wartime Past

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July 7, 2026 marks the 89th anniversary of the Marco Polo Bridge Incident, when Japanese forces attacked Chinese positions near Wanping outside Beijing in 1937, setting off the full-scale war between Japan and China. 

For China, the date remains a powerful reminder of the beginning of a national resistance against Japanese aggression. It also raises a broader question that remains unresolved nearly nine decades later: how does Japan remember the war it started?

That question has acquired renewed relevance amid recent reports that major Japanese media outlets circulated a “safety advisory” issued by the Japanese Embassy in China warning Japanese citizens about what it described as growing “anti-Japanese sentiment.” The framing is striking. 

Japan’s concern about the security of its citizens is legitimate, but when contemporary tensions are presented without sufficient historical context, the narrative can easily shift from Japan’s wartime role as an aggressor to Japan as a presumed victim. 

This stands in sharp contrast to the elaborate commemorations Japan holds each year for the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The contrast points to a deeper problem in Japan’s public memory: the country has not forgotten the war, but it has remembered it selectively.

This does not mean that Japanese society is uniformly revisionist, nor that Japanese people are indifferent to the suffering caused by war. Japan has a strong tradition of peace education, anti-war activism, memorial ceremonies and testimony from survivors. 

Hiroshima, Nagasaki, the firebombing of Tokyo, the Battle of Okinawa and the hardships of the immediate postwar years remain deeply embedded in the national consciousness. Yet these memories overwhelmingly emphasize what happened to Japan and its people. Much less consistently are they connected to the question of what Japan did to others.

A March 2026 opinion survey by NHK illustrates the scale of the problem. Asked whether the Second World War was a “war of aggression” launched by Japan against its Asian neighbors, only 35 percent of respondents agreed, while 16 percent disagreed and 48 percent answered that they did not know. 

The most revealing figure may not be the 16 percent who rejected the characterization, but the 48 percent who could not answer. Eight decades after the war, the basic question of Japan’s role in the conflict remains unclear to a remarkably large proportion of the public.

This is not simply a deficit of historical knowledge. It reflects a deeper separation between remembering the suffering of war and understanding historical responsibility.

Japan’s schools do teach the Second World War. A 2025 survey by the Nippon Foundation found that roughly 95 percent of respondents aged 18 said they had learned about the Pacific War, with about two-thirds identifying school as a major source of their knowledge. The issue, therefore, is not whether young Japanese encounter the war, but how the war is framed.

Among works that left the strongest impression on Japanese young people, Grave of the Fireflies ranked first, cited by 42.2 percent of respondents. The film’s depiction of two children struggling to survive amid wartime bombing and social collapse is profoundly human and contains an unmistakable anti-war message. There is nothing inherently problematic about remembering Japanese civilians as victims of war. The problem emerges when such memories become the dominant framework through which the entire conflict is understood.

A young person can learn that war is horrifying and that peace is precious without necessarily being encouraged to ask why Japan went to war, what Japanese imperial expansion meant for people across Asia, or why historical responsibility remained an essential part of Japan’s postwar reconciliation with its neighbors. 

Peace education without responsibility education can therefore produce a paradoxical historical consciousness: war is remembered as a tragedy, but aggression becomes increasingly detached from the tragedy itself.

The same pattern can be seen in Japan’s broader public commemorations. Hiroshima and Nagasaki have become central symbols of the horrors of modern warfare. Yet commemoration of Japanese victimhood does not automatically lead to reflection on Japan’s responsibility for the war. 

When the two are separated, a distorted moral picture can emerge: Japan is remembered as a country that suffered enormously because of war, while the suffering inflicted by Japanese imperialism on China, Korea, Southeast Asia and other parts of Asia becomes comparatively distant.

This imbalance is particularly consequential because direct memories of the war are disappearing. More than 80 years after 1945, the generation that experienced the conflict firsthand is rapidly shrinking. As family testimony and personal recollections fade, schools, museums, films, television, newspapers and political leaders acquire greater influence over how subsequent generations understand the past. Historical memory is therefore not simply inherited; it is continually reconstructed through institutions and public narratives.

Politics matters greatly in that reconstruction. Japan has never had a single, uncontested interpretation of its wartime past. The country has produced important official statements acknowledging aggression and expressing remorse, including the 1993 Kono Statement and the 1995 Murayama Statement. But these commitments have repeatedly been contested and reframed by conservative politicians.

The evolution of official rhetoric is revealing. In his 2015 statement marking the 70th anniversary of the end of the war, Prime Minister Shinzo Abe said that Japan would maintain the positions expressed by previous governments, including expressions of remorse and apology. At the same time, he argued that future generations should not be destined to continue apologizing for the war. The formulation did not amount to a straightforward denial of historical wrongdoing. Its significance lay elsewhere: responsibility was increasingly presented as something that should not indefinitely constrain Japan’s future.

This is one of the more effective forms of historical revisionism. It does not always require denying individual atrocities or explicitly rejecting every established historical fact. It can operate through ambiguity, selective emphasis and changes in political vocabulary. Historical responsibility becomes a burden; apologies become an inheritance that should eventually be discarded; and wartime history is gradually reframed as an issue that belongs to the past rather than as a continuing moral responsibility toward neighboring societies.

The rise of security anxiety has reinforced this tendency. A 2026 Nippon Foundation survey of Japanese teenagers found that the share describing Japan’s international environment as “peaceful” had fallen from roughly 64 percent in 2023 to 48 percent in 2026. At the same time, support for the Self-Defense Forces as a factor maintaining peace rose by 9.2 percentage points to 34 percent, making it the second most frequently cited factor. On increasing defense spending, 35 percent supported an increase, 24 percent opposed it, while 41 percent said they did not know.[3]

These figures suggest that Japan is caught between two competing political memories. One is rooted in the postwar experience: war must never happen again. The other is increasingly shaped by contemporary security concerns: Japan must be capable of defending itself against external threats.

Neither concern is inherently illegitimate. A democratic society has every right to debate its defense policy in response to changes in the regional security environment. The danger arises when contemporary security anxieties are detached from historical memory. If Japan increasingly understands itself only as a vulnerable state surrounded by threats, its own history as an imperial power can become politically inconvenient. The past then ceases to serve as a warning against militarism and begins to appear as an obstacle to “normalizing” Japan’s military role.

That is why the central issue is not whether Japanese society remembers the war. It clearly does. The more important question is whose suffering is remembered, whose suffering is marginalized, and whether remembrance leads to responsibility.

Japan’s postwar identity was built in significant part around the rejection of militarism and the devastation of war. That identity remains important, and millions of Japanese citizens continue to uphold it. But peace cannot be sustained by remembering only that war is terrible. A durable peace also requires remembering how wars begin, how states become aggressors, and how the victims of aggression experience history.

Japan’s challenge, then, is not simply to preserve its memories of Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Okinawa or the suffering of ordinary civilians. Those memories deserve to remain central. The challenge is to place them within a fuller historical narrative—one that also includes colonialism, the Nanjing Massacre, the “comfort women” system, forced labor and the violence inflicted throughout Asia.

A country does not weaken its national identity by confronting the darkest parts of its past. It strengthens its democratic foundations. Nearly nine decades after the Marco Polo Bridge Incident, the question facing Japan is therefore not whether it will remember the war. It is whether its memory will remain a warning against war, or become a selective narrative in which Japan remembers above all how it suffered, while forgetting why so many of its neighbors suffered at its hands.

The distinction matters. When historical memory ceases to lead to responsibility, it can be transformed into a political resource for remilitarization. And when that happens, the erosion of postwar pacifism does not begin with the disappearance of memories of war. It begins with remembering the war without remembering responsibility.

Source: the conversation, the irish times, bbc, global times, tokyo times

Rethinking China, Rethinking Modernity

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How should China be understood? This question lies at the heart of any attempt to understand both Chinese history and China’s transformation in the modern era. For a long time, China has often been interpreted through a simple opposition between “empire” and “nation-state.” 

In Western-centered accounts of history, China is commonly presented as a traditional empire that lacked the political form of the modern nation-state. In reaction to such interpretations, other accounts have emphasized the idea of “All-under-Heaven” and portrayed China as a political order fundamentally different from the Western nation-state. Although these approaches appear to point in opposite directions, both can end up placing China within concepts defined in advance.

The more important question is not whether China should ultimately be classified as an empire or a nation-state, but how China’s political forms were created and how they changed over time. China was never a completely fixed historical entity. Its territory, institutions, political culture, and understanding of what constituted “China” all changed repeatedly. Different dynasties established new political orders while also redefining their relationship with China and with the historical traditions associated with it.

The Yuan and Qing dynasties are particularly revealing in this regard. Their political structures and territorial reach differed significantly from those of the Song and Ming, yet both eventually became integral parts of Chinese history. After establishing rule, the Qing faced a fundamental political question: how could a new dynasty present itself as a legitimate Chinese dynasty? Military conquest alone could not answer this question. Legitimacy was also constructed through institutions, rituals, Confucian learning, and historical interpretation. Over time, the Qing became widely recognized as part of the continuous history of China. This suggests that historical continuity should not be understood as something that simply survives unchanged. It is repeatedly reconstructed in response to historical rupture and political transformation.

This process can also be seen in the intellectual debates of the Song period. Discussions of feudalism and centralized administration, land systems and taxation, civil-service selection and the examination system, ritual and institutions may appear to concern technical questions of government. In fact, they reflected a much broader concern with the relationship between historical change and political ideals. Song thinkers repeatedly asked why political institutions had changed and whether the ideals associated with ancient political life could still have meaning under new institutional conditions.

The relationship between ritual and institutions is especially important. For Song Confucians, ritual was not simply a cultural tradition separated from political institutions, while institutions were not merely technical mechanisms of government. The relationship between the two was itself a historical problem. Arguments for restoring ancient practices were therefore not necessarily attempts to return literally to the past. They were often efforts to reconsider political order under conditions in which society and institutions had already changed.

This point also raises a broader methodological issue. Ancient Chinese history cannot always be adequately understood by imposing modern categories such as politics, economics, society, and culture onto a world in which these domains were not necessarily separated in the same way. Modern analytical concepts can illuminate the past, but they can also obscure the conceptual world in which historical actors actually lived. For Song thinkers, questions of political institutions, ethics, social order, ritual, and history were interconnected within a larger understanding of principle, political legitimacy, and the moral order of the world.

An “internal perspective” is therefore essential to understanding historical thought. Such a perspective does not mean rejecting modern knowledge or simply returning to ancient ways of thinking. It means first understanding why people in a particular historical period understood their circumstances in the way they did, and only then bringing those historical perspectives into dialogue with contemporary questions. History becomes more meaningful when the categories used to interpret it are themselves subjected to reflection.

The traditional Chinese idea of “historical circumstances” is important here. Modern Western historical narratives have often presented time as a linear process leading from the past toward progress, development, and ultimately modernity. Chinese historical thought, by contrast, placed greater emphasis on changing circumstances and the choices made within them. History did not necessarily follow a single predetermined path toward a final destination. Political action took place within changing circumstances, while historical actors continued to pursue particular values and visions of order.

China’s entry into modernity therefore cannot be understood simply as a linear movement from tradition to modernity or from empire to nation-state. From the nineteenth century onward, the growing power of the West transformed China’s historical circumstances. New forms of knowledge, new conceptions of the state, and a new international order changed the way Chinese intellectuals understood both China and the world.

This also means that criticism of Western centrism cannot simply mean rejecting everything associated with the West. By the modern period, the West had already become part of China’s historical reality. Chinese intellectuals were responding to a world that had been fundamentally transformed by Western military, political, economic, and intellectual power. Even attempts to defend Chinese tradition were therefore made under modern historical conditions.

The complexity of twentieth-century Chinese thought emerged from this situation. Chinese intellectuals faced a profound tension: traditional forms of knowledge had been disrupted, yet the question of how to preserve, reinterpret, or recreate China’s intellectual heritage remained unavoidable. Nationalism, liberalism, socialism, cultural conservatism, and other intellectual currents should therefore not be understood simply as foreign ideas imported into China or as unchanged survivals of tradition. They were different responses to a new historical world.

The formation of modern Chinese thought was consequently neither a simple process of Westernization nor a straightforward revival of tradition. It was a process of continuous adjustment and reconstruction between tradition and modernity, China and the wider world. Modernity itself cannot be treated as a single, universally identical condition. Ideas that criticized modernity could still operate within modern institutions and modern systems of knowledge. At the same time, such tensions reveal that modernity contains multiple possibilities and unresolved contradictions.

Rethinking China therefore also requires rethinking modernity. Modernity is not a fixed endpoint that China was simply destined to reach, nor is China a static object waiting to be defined. China’s modern transformation emerged from changes in political institutions, systems of knowledge, cultural traditions, and relations with the wider world.

“China” is neither an unchanging essence nor an arbitrary concept that can be defined at will. It is a political and cultural community repeatedly interpreted and reconstructed through historical change. Modern China did not suddenly appear at a single moment. It emerged through successive ruptures, continuities, conflicts, and attempts at reconstruction.

The central task, therefore, is not to assign China a final definition, but to understand how China became what it is through historical change. Moving beyond simplistic oppositions such as empire and nation-state, tradition and modernity, or China and the West makes it possible to see Chinese history not as a predetermined journey toward a fixed destination, but as a long and complex process in which a civilization and political community has repeatedly redefined itself in response to changing circumstances.

Source: aisixiang, szhgh, xinhua

Replacing Plastic, Reducing Oil Dependence: How China Is Turning Bamboo Into a Sustainable Industrial Future

For more than half a century, oil has been at the heart of the modern industrial economy. It has powered transportation, supplied energy and provided the raw materials for plastics, synthetic fibers, packaging, chemicals and countless other products. The abundance and relatively low cost of fossil-based materials have made them deeply embedded in global production and consumption.

But this dependence has also created growing environmental costs. Plastic pollution has evolved from a waste-management problem into a global ecological challenge. Plastics are produced largely from fossil resources, while discarded plastic can persist in the environment for decades or even centuries. Microplastics have been detected across ecosystems, and the production and disposal of plastics also contribute to greenhouse-gas emissions.

More than 140 countries have introduced restrictions or bans on plastics. Reducing plastic use and developing alternatives to petroleum-based materials have therefore become important elements of the global transition toward sustainable development.

Against this backdrop, China is pursuing a distinctive approach: replacing selected plastic products with bamboo-based alternatives.

The Bamboo as a Substitute for Plastic Initiative was proposed by the International Bamboo and Rattan Organisation in 2022. On June 24 that year, the High-level Dialogue on Global Development, chaired by Chinese President Xi Jinping, released a list of 32 outcomes, including a proposal for China and the International Bamboo and Rattan Organisation to jointly launch the Bamboo as a Substitute for Plastic initiative to reduce plastic pollution and address climate change.

The significance of the initiative goes beyond replacing plastic straws, tableware or shopping bags. At a deeper level, it represents an effort to reduce dependence on fossil-based materials by making greater use of renewable biological resources.

Bamboo is particularly well suited to this purpose. It is one of the fastest-growing plants in the world. Many bamboo species can reach usable maturity within several years, far faster than most conventional timber species. Bamboo also combines strength, flexibility and resilience with relatively good processing characteristics. Under proper management, bamboo forests can be continuously regenerated, while bamboo products can have advantages in terms of biodegradability at the end of their useful life.

Bamboo also has considerable potential as a carbon sink. Research has shown that bamboo forests can have significantly higher carbon-sequestration capacity than many conventional forest systems. This gives bamboo a dual role in the transition toward a low-carbon economy: it can provide renewable raw materials while contributing to ecosystem restoration and carbon sequestration.

China possesses an exceptional natural and industrial foundation for developing such an industry. The country has the world’s largest bamboo resources in terms of area, species diversity and reserves. China is home to 857 bamboo species belonging to 39 genera, accounting for more than half of the world’s recorded bamboo species. Its bamboo forests cover roughly 7 million hectares.

More importantly, China has developed one of the world’s most complete bamboo-processing industries. Bamboo has been cultivated and utilized in China for thousands of years, and modern technologies have transformed it from a traditional material into an increasingly sophisticated industrial resource.

The industrial chain now extends from bamboo cultivation and harvesting to processing, fiber extraction, composite materials, product manufacturing and international trade. This provides an important foundation for transforming bamboo from a traditional rural resource into a modern bio-based material.

Technological innovation is accelerating that transformation. Bamboo fibers, boards, tubes, molded products and engineered composites are increasingly being used in areas traditionally dominated by petroleum-based plastics or other synthetic materials. Bamboo-based products now cover household goods, office supplies, hotel amenities, food-service products, construction materials, industrial components and agricultural applications.

Some of the most promising applications are far removed from traditional bamboo products. Bamboo fiber is being used in automotive interiors and industrial packaging. Bamboo-based composite materials have been developed for pipelines and construction applications. Bamboo is also being processed into keyboards, speakers and other consumer electronics products.

The expansion of bamboo packaging illustrates how technological innovation can alter established industrial practices. Lenovo, for example, introduced biodegradable bamboo-fiber packaging technologies more than a decade ago and has progressively expanded their application. Since 2016, innovations in lightweight and renewable bamboo-fiber packaging have reportedly reduced the company’s use of packaging materials by more than 4,500 tonnes.

Such developments demonstrate that replacing plastic is not simply a matter of substituting one material for another. It requires improvements in material science, processing technology, product design, manufacturing equipment and supply-chain management.

China has therefore increased its investment in research and development related to bamboo-based alternatives. Projects supported by national scientific and industrial programs have focused on key technologies for bamboo-based substitute products, including bamboo drinking straws, bamboo fiber materials, flattened bamboo products and automotive components.

Standards are also becoming an increasingly important part of the transition. In September 2024, China’s National Forestry and Grassland Administration released a specialized standards system for Bamboo as a Substitute for Plastic, covering nine major categories and 140 standards. In January 2025, the International Organization for Standardization published the international standard for bamboo drinking straws, providing an important foundation for the international expansion of bamboo-based products.

Policy has played an equally important role. In November 2023, China’s National Development and Reform Commission and other government departments issued the Action Plan for Accelerating the Development of Bamboo as a Substitute for Plastic. The plan called for stronger technological innovation, improved mechanization in bamboo harvesting and transportation, greater industrial concentration, the cultivation of leading enterprises and expanded applications in key areas.

The objective is not simply to increase the number of bamboo products, but to build a competitive industrial system. Cost remains one of the biggest obstacles. Compared with mass-produced plastics, bamboo products can still be more expensive. Bamboo harvesting and transportation are relatively labor-intensive, while mechanization and automation in some production areas remain limited. Many bamboo-processing companies are small and medium-sized enterprises, making it difficult to achieve the economies of scale enjoyed by large petrochemical manufacturers.

These challenges explain why technological upgrading is essential. Greater mechanization can reduce harvesting costs. Better processing technologies can increase material utilization. Large-scale production can lower unit costs. Product innovation can move bamboo beyond low-value consumer goods and into higher-value industrial applications.

The economic significance extends beyond manufacturing. Much of China’s bamboo is grown in mountainous and rural areas. In many regions, bamboo forests have historically generated relatively low returns for farmers. Developing higher-value products can therefore connect ecological resources with rural incomes.

Jiangxi, Fujian and Guizhou are among the regions that have invested heavily in bamboo development. Jiangxi has launched a major bamboo-industry initiative backed by public investment. Fujian has focused on bamboo forest infrastructure and industrial upgrading. In Guizhou’s Chishui, one of China’s major bamboo-producing areas, hundreds of bamboo-related enterprises have developed products ranging from environmentally friendly tableware to agricultural films and other industrial materials.

The result is a new relationship between forests, farmers and manufacturing. A bamboo stalk growing in a mountain forest can enter a modern supply chain and eventually become packaging, construction material, automotive components or consumer products sold on international markets. This creates opportunities to increase the value of rural resources while providing incentives for better forest management.

The contrast with a fossil-based industrial model is significant. Oil is finite, geographically concentrated and highly sensitive to geopolitical conditions. Modern economies that depend heavily on petroleum-based materials are consequently exposed not only to environmental risks but also to fluctuations in energy prices and global supply chains.

Bamboo cannot replace oil entirely, nor can it replace every type of plastic. Plastics remain highly competitive in many applications because of their low cost, light weight, durability and efficient processing. The objective of Bamboo as a Substitute for Plastic is therefore not to eliminate petroleum from the global economy overnight. Its strategic value lies elsewhere. It expands the range of available raw materials and reduces dependence on non-renewable resources in areas where renewable alternatives are technically and economically viable.

In this sense, China’s bamboo initiative represents a broader approach to sustainable development. Rather than treating environmental protection solely as a constraint on economic growth, it seeks to turn ecological resources into new sources of industrial competitiveness.

The development of the bamboo industry also demonstrates how China’s manufacturing capacity can be combined with its ecological resources. A country that does not possess the world’s largest oil reserves can nevertheless build a competitive materials industry around renewable resources in which it has a comparative advantage. This is particularly important as the global economy searches for alternatives to fossil-based materials.

China’s contribution is also becoming increasingly international. The International Bamboo and Rattan Organisation has promoted the Bamboo as a Substitute for Plastic initiative at international forums, including discussions related to the global plastics treaty, sustainable trade and the United Nations Forum on Forests. China and international partners have organized conferences, exhibitions and technology exchanges to promote bamboo-based solutions.

Chinese bamboo products are already finding markets in Europe, the Middle East and other regions. Bamboo-fiber tableware, packaging and other products are increasingly being marketed not merely as traditional goods, but as part of a global shift toward renewable and low-carbon consumption.

The rapid expansion of the industry illustrates the scale of the transformation. China’s bamboo industry generated more than 520 billion yuan in annual output in 2025, with more than 10,000 bamboo-processing enterprises and over 29 million jobs supported across the value chain. Nearly ten counties and cities have developed bamboo industries worth more than 10 billion yuan each.

These figures show that Bamboo as a Substitute for Plastic has evolved beyond an environmental slogan. It is becoming an industrial strategy that connects ecological protection, technological innovation, rural development and international cooperation.

The broader lesson is not that bamboo will replace oil. The more important lesson is that modern economies can gradually reduce their dependence on a single class of non-renewable resources by developing alternatives based on local ecological advantages and technological innovation.

The transition away from fossil dependence will not happen through one material, one technology or one country. It will require a broad diversification of energy and material systems, supported by science, industrial policy, international standards and changing consumer behavior. China’s experience with bamboo demonstrates what such diversification can look like in practice.

A renewable resource growing in rural forests is being transformed through technology into industrial materials and consumer products. Traditional ecological knowledge is being combined with modern manufacturing. Rural resources are being connected to global markets. Environmental objectives are being linked with economic development.

The ultimate goal is not to return to a world without modern industry, nor to eliminate plastics from every aspect of life. It is to create an industrial system with more renewable choices, lower dependence on finite resources and greater compatibility with ecological limits.

From China’s bamboo forests, a different vision of industrial development is emerging: one in which economic strength does not have to depend exclusively on the continued extraction of fossil resources, and in which ecological advantages can become sources of technological innovation, industrial competitiveness and sustainable growth.

That may be the most important contribution of China’s bamboo strategy to the global search for a post-fossil future.

Source: forestry gov cn, ndrc gov cn, xinhuanet, china daily

Chinese Modernization: A Historical Synthesis of Centralization and Democracy

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The concept of “modernization” emerged in the post-Second World War social sciences, particularly within Western discussions of “political development.” From this perspective, China’s search for modernization can be traced back to the Self-Strengthening Movement in the late Qing period. 

Subsequent efforts by different political forces likewise sought to address the fundamental question of how China could achieve national strength, independence, and social progress. Yet, viewed from the broader trajectory of China’s modern history, the founding of the People’s Republic of China in 1949 marked a decisive turning point. 

It not only transformed the country’s political order, but also shifted China’s modernization from a largely reactive response to external pressure toward a sustained project of national reconstruction and development.

To understand Chinese modernization, therefore, one must first understand the historical role of the Communist Party of China. Through a highly organized political structure, the CPC mobilized and organized society, linking national independence, state-building, economic development, and the liberation and well-being of the people. In this process, it gradually developed a distinctive path of modernization centered on the people. This historical trajectory also resonates with Mao Zedong’s vision in “On New Democracy” of a “new China” and an “advanced civilization” founded upon new political, economic, and social institutions.

The “new” represents the transformation and renewal of historical traditions under modern conditions. Chinese modernization did not emerge in a cultural vacuum. It developed through a long process in which Marxism encountered, interacted with, and was transformed by China’s historical civilization. In this sense, the modernization of China is not merely a process of institutional change or economic development. It is also a process through which an ancient civilization has sought to renew itself under modern conditions.

This is why the key to understanding Chinese modernization lies in understanding the relationship between the Communist Party of China and Chinese civilization. The CPC is, first and foremost, a Marxist political party. At the same time, it is deeply embedded in the historical and cultural traditions of China. These two dimensions are not necessarily contradictory. Rather, they have interacted to shape the political character and historical practice of the Party. Marxism provided the CPC with a distinctive political outlook and revolutionary orientation, while Chinese civilization provided a historical and cultural environment in which Marxism could take root and develop.

The CPC was therefore not an ideological force transplanted onto Chinese society from outside. Marxism, after entering China, underwent a profound process of localization and transformation. It encountered a civilization with a long tradition of state-building, political organization, moral education, public responsibility, and concern for the people. The resulting synthesis created conditions under which Marxist political ideas could acquire new institutional and cultural forms.

This historical process is particularly important for understanding what contemporary Chinese political discourse calls the “second integration”: the integration of the basic tenets of Marxism with China’s fine traditional culture. The significance of this proposition lies not simply in identifying similarities between Marxism and traditional Chinese thought. More fundamentally, it points to the interaction between two political civilizations and to the ways in which historical traditions can be transformed through modern political practice.

From this perspective, historical political science provides a useful methodological approach. Institutions do not emerge in isolation from history, nor do political organizations exist independently of cultural traditions. To understand China’s political development, it is necessary to examine the interaction among institutions, political organizations, ideas, and long-term historical structures. Such an approach makes it possible to understand Chinese modernization not simply as an imitation of Western modernization, but as a distinctive historical process shaped by the encounter between Marxism and Chinese civilization.

One of the most enduring features of Chinese political civilization is the idea of Great Unity, or datong. This concept refers not only to territorial unity, but also to institutional integration, cultural cohesion, and a shared political identity. Since the formation of early Chinese states, the maintenance of political unity has been a central concern of Chinese history. The development of centralized state institutions gave China an unusually strong capacity for political organization and integration over long periods of history.

The nineteenth century, however, brought an unprecedented crisis. China faced military defeat, foreign intervention, internal disorder, and the erosion of its traditional political institutions. The problem was no longer simply how to preserve an existing political order, but how to reconstruct a unified state under radically changed historical circumstances.

The fall of the imperial system after the 1911 Revolution created a political vacuum. China experimented with constitutional government and republican institutions, but these efforts failed to produce a stable national political order. Political fragmentation and warlordism followed. Sun Yat-sen and others attempted to use political parties as instruments of national reconstruction, but factionalism within the Nationalist Party ultimately limited its ability to provide a durable basis for political integration.

The rise of the Communist Party of China represented a different solution to the problem of state organization. Through a highly disciplined and centralized organizational structure, the Party mobilized diverse social forces and ultimately rebuilt a unified political order. In this process, the historical tradition of national unity acquired a new institutional foundation.

This transformation is significant because the political foundation of the new order differed fundamentally from that of the imperial system. Under the traditional monarchy, political authority was ultimately embedded in dynastic rule. In the modern political order established after 1949, political authority was organized around a modern party-state structure. The institutional bearer of national unity was no longer a ruling dynasty, but a highly organized political party operating within a modern state system.

The distinctive political character of the CPC is therefore central to understanding this transformation. Marx and Engels famously argued in The Communist Manifesto that communists do not pursue interests separate from those of the working class and ultimately seek the emancipation of humanity. In China, this principle became connected with the broader political objective of serving the people and transforming society.

A political organization that defines itself through a public mission, rather than through the pursuit of a private or dynastic interest, requires a high degree of organization if it is to translate its political objectives into sustained governing capacity. Lenin’s principle of democratic centralism provided an important organizational foundation for Marxist parties. The CPC incorporated this principle into its own institutional development and subsequently adapted it to China’s political and historical circumstances.

Democratic centralism also became an important principle of China’s state institutions. The Constitution of the People’s Republic of China stipulates that state institutions operate according to the principle of democratic centralism. In practice, this principle seeks to combine broad participation and consultation with unified decision-making and implementation. One of its most familiar political expressions is the principle of “from the masses, to the masses.”

This principle points to a distinctive understanding of the political process. Modern states must aggregate diverse interests and social demands, transform them into public policy, implement those policies, and then evaluate and adjust them through practice. The Chinese political system has sought to accomplish this through an extensive organizational network connecting the Party, the state, and society.

Another important feature of China’s historical political civilization is the tradition of selecting capable people for public office. From the rise of the scholar-official class in the pre-Qin period through the development of Confucian statecraft during the imperial era, political governance became closely connected with education, knowledge, moral cultivation, and the recruitment of officials.

The emergence of the scholar-official system represented an important historical feature of Chinese political civilization: the relative integration of political authority and cultural authority. Rather than relying primarily on hereditary aristocracy, military power, or private wealth, the traditional Chinese state increasingly relied upon educated officials selected through institutionalized mechanisms. This created a distinctive political culture in which governing competence and moral responsibility were closely associated with public office.

Modern China did not simply reproduce this tradition. Instead, elements of the traditional ideal of selecting capable public servants were transformed within a Marxist political and organizational framework. The contemporary cadre system emerged partly from the organizational traditions of Marxist parties, but it also developed within China’s own historical environment.

This transformation can be seen particularly clearly in the concept of party spirit. In the Marxist tradition, party spirit emphasizes political commitment, organizational discipline, and collective responsibility. At the same time, its development in China has interacted with older cultural ideas concerning moral cultivation, public responsibility, and the obligation of those who govern to serve society. In this sense, the modern political cadre differs fundamentally from the traditional scholar-official, but the two are connected by a longer historical concern with the selection, education, and cultivation of governing elites.

The modern system of selecting and promoting officials also differs from traditional meritocratic practices in an important respect. Traditional meritocracy ultimately operated within a monarchical political order and served dynastic rule. Modern cadre selection, by contrast, is embedded in a political system whose stated legitimacy is grounded in the interests and participation of the people. Marxism therefore changed the normative foundation of the traditional ideal of selecting capable rulers, while organizational institutions strengthened its capacity for systematic implementation.

If the tradition of Great Unity concerns the organization and integrity of the state, the tradition of minben, or “people as the foundation,” concerns the relationship between political authority and society.

Concern for the people is one of the most enduring themes in Chinese political thought. From the ancient idea that “the people are the foundation of the state” to the later Confucian proposition that the people should be regarded as fundamental to political rule, Chinese political civilization developed a strong tradition of emphasizing the responsibilities of rulers toward the population.

Yet traditional minben thought also had a fundamental limitation. The people were recognized as important, but they remained largely objects of political governance. They were to be protected, cared for, and treated as the foundation of political order, but they were not yet conceived as autonomous political subjects in the modern sense.

One of the most important transformations brought about by modern Chinese political development was therefore the change in the political status of the people. Marxist historical materialism emphasizes that the people are the makers of history. When this proposition encountered the Chinese tradition of minben, it provided the basis for a new understanding of the political role of the people.

The Communist Party’s mass line became one of the principal mechanisms through which this transformation took place. Its basic principle—“from the masses, to the masses”—requires political organizations to engage with society, understand the needs and experiences of ordinary people, transform dispersed social demands into policies, and then return those policies to society for implementation and evaluation.

The mass line is therefore more than a method of political communication. It represents a particular conception of the political process. Social demands are gathered and organized; policies are formulated; implementation generates new experiences; and these experiences are then used to revise subsequent decisions. In this sense, the mass line has functioned both as a method of political leadership and, increasingly, as a mechanism of governance.

Since the reform and opening-up period, a variety of experiments in grassroots consultation and participation have emerged across China. Practices such as the democratic consultation meetings developed in Wenling, Zhejiang, illustrate attempts to institutionalize public participation in local decision-making. These experiments differ in form and scope, but they share an emphasis on connecting public participation with concrete processes of governance.

It is within this longer historical trajectory that the contemporary concept of “whole-process people’s democracy” can be understood. Democracy is not limited to elections or a single moment of political choice. It also involves agenda-setting, consultation, decision-making, implementation, supervision, and feedback. The emphasis on the political process is therefore particularly important.

The mass line provides one institutional and political mechanism linking traditional minben thought with modern people’s democracy. Traditional minben emphasized that the government should serve the people and regard their welfare as fundamental. Modern people’s democracy goes further by emphasizing the political agency of the people and their participation in the processes through which public decisions are made and implemented.

Seen from this perspective, Chinese modernization cannot be adequately explained through a simple opposition between “tradition” and “modernity.” Modern China represents both a break with the old political order and a continuation of important historical traditions. The transformation of the centralized state, the evolution of the tradition of selecting capable officials, and the transformation of minben thought into a modern conception of popular political participation all demonstrate how historical continuity and institutional innovation can coexist.

This helps explain why China can be understood as both an ancient and a modern country. Its civilization is ancient, but its contemporary political and institutional forms are modern. The modernization process has not required the complete abandonment of historical traditions. Instead, some elements of those traditions have been reinterpreted and incorporated into new institutional forms.

The significance of the “second integration” lies precisely in this process. The integration of Marxism with China’s fine traditional culture does not mean mechanically combining two pre-existing systems of thought. Rather, it involves transforming both the interpretation of tradition and the application of Marxism through concrete historical practice.

Chinese civilization provides Marxism with a rich reservoir of concepts, institutions, and political experiences. Marxism, in turn, provides a new theoretical framework through which elements of traditional civilization can be reinterpreted and placed within a modern political context. The result is neither a simple return to tradition nor a straightforward transplantation of Western institutional models.

Historical political science is valuable here because it allows this process to be examined over a longer time horizon. Political institutions are shaped by historical experience, and political organizations operate within cultural environments that precede them. Understanding Chinese modernization therefore requires attention not only to formal institutions, but also to the historical structures, political practices, and cultural traditions that influence how those institutions operate.

From the perspective of political theory, Chinese modernization also raises a broader question: must modernity necessarily take a single institutional form? China’s historical experience suggests otherwise. A country with a long tradition of political unity and civilizational continuity can enter modernity while retaining and transforming elements of its historical political culture.

Traditional China was, in many respects, a civilization-state sustained by institutions of administration, education, and cultural integration. Contemporary China has developed a modern state system under the leadership of the Communist Party of China. There is both rupture and continuity between these two historical forms. The transformation of the old order did not erase the historical foundations of Chinese political civilization; rather, some of those foundations were reconfigured within a new institutional framework.

Chinese modernization should therefore be understood not simply as economic development, technological progress, or social transformation. It is also a process of political and civilizational transformation. It has inherited historical ideas concerning national unity, the selection of capable public officials, concern for the people, and public responsibility, while simultaneously redefining these ideas through Marxist theory and modern political institutions.

The resulting political civilization is neither a simple revival of the past nor a mechanical imitation of Western modernity. It is the product of a long historical interaction between Marxism and Chinese civilization. In this interaction, an ancient civilization has acquired new institutional forms, while Marxism has developed a distinctive Chinese expression through political practice.

This is perhaps the deeper significance of Chinese modernization. It demonstrates that modernization need not necessarily mean the disappearance of historical civilization. A civilization can enter modernity while transforming, rather than simply abandoning, its historical inheritance. The Chinese experience thus provides an important case for understanding the diversity of modernization and the possibility that different civilizations may generate different institutional and political forms in the course of becoming modern.

Source: cssn, cgtn, chinadaily, xinhua, guancha

Why China’s Autonomous Driving Revolution Is Taking the Trucking Route

When autonomous driving began moving from laboratories to real-world applications, China made a distinctive choice: instead of putting people in the back seat first, it put freight in the cargo bay.

Across Chinese mines, ports, logistics parks and long-haul highways, autonomous trucks are gradually becoming part of everyday industrial operations. While the United States has focused heavily on robotaxis and autonomous passenger transportation, China has placed considerable emphasis on autonomous heavy-duty trucks. The difference is not simply a matter of technological preference. It reflects the structure of the two countries’ transportation systems, industrial economies, labor markets and regulatory environments.

The logic behind China’s focus on trucks is straightforward. Autonomous driving is ultimately a commercial technology, and its long-term viability depends on whether it can create measurable economic value. Heavy-duty trucks happen to sit at the center of one of China’s largest and most cost-intensive industries: road freight.

China operates one of the world’s largest road freight networks. In 2025, road transportation accounted for 432.88 billion tons of commercial freight, representing more than 70 percent of China’s total commercial freight volume. More than 11 million commercial freight vehicles support this enormous transportation system, moving goods between factories, warehouses, ports, mines and distribution centers. The scale of the market means that even relatively small improvements in fuel consumption, vehicle utilization, driver requirements or transportation efficiency can translate into substantial economic value.

This gives autonomous trucking an advantage that passenger-car autonomy does not always possess. For a consumer vehicle, the economic value of autonomous driving can be difficult to quantify. For a freight company, the calculation is much more direct. How many kilometers does a truck travel each day? How much fuel does it consume? How many drivers are required? How much cargo can it transport? How many hours can the vehicle operate? If autonomous technology can reduce labor intensity, lower energy consumption and increase vehicle utilization, the technology can be translated directly into the operating economics of a fleet.

Long-haul freight is particularly suitable for this transition because its operating environment is relatively structured. Highways have clearly defined lanes, standardized road infrastructure and comparatively predictable traffic patterns. Compared with urban streets, where pedestrians, bicycles, motorcycles, intersections and irregular road behavior create highly complex interactions, highways reduce some of the perception and decision-making challenges faced by autonomous systems.

At the same time, long-haul trucks travel enormous distances. Every vehicle operating on a real route generates data about road conditions, traffic behavior, weather and system performance. That data can then be fed back into algorithms and vehicle design, creating a technological and commercial feedback loop: vehicles enter operation, real-world data accumulates, algorithms improve, costs fall and larger-scale deployment becomes possible.

The development of Inceptio Technology illustrates this gradual approach. Founded in 2018, the company positioned itself around the combination of autonomous-driving technology, mass-produced trucks and freight operations. In 2021, it began commercial operations of L3 autonomous trucks, working with major logistics companies and cargo owners. By October 2022, its autonomous trucks had accumulated more than 10 million kilometers in commercial operations, according to the company. Its approach was not to eliminate the driver immediately, but to progressively transfer repetitive and demanding driving tasks from humans to machines.

That distinction is crucial. L3 autonomous driving still requires human supervision and intervention under specified conditions, but it can substantially reduce the physical and cognitive burden placed on drivers during long-distance transportation. The driver becomes less of a conventional full-time operator and increasingly functions as a supervisor of an automated transportation system. In this model, autonomous driving is introduced not as an overnight replacement for human labor, but as a gradual restructuring of the division of labor.

China’s autonomous-driving industry has also found an even more controllable entry point: mines, ports and industrial logistics facilities.

A mining site does not resemble a crowded urban road. Vehicle routes are relatively fixed, operating areas are clearly defined, and loading, transportation and unloading can be coordinated within a controlled system. This makes it possible to deploy higher levels of automation before the technology is ready to handle every unpredictable situation found on public roads.

In Inner Mongolia, for example, large autonomous mining trucks are already being deployed in open-pit coal mines. Some vehicles operate without conventional driver cabins, while autonomous platooning systems can allow one safety operator to supervise several vehicles. These machines can perform loading, driving, obstacle avoidance and unloading with limited or no direct human intervention.

This is where autonomous driving begins to look less like a new automotive feature and more like a new industrial production system.

The convergence of autonomous driving with electrification strengthens this transformation. Electric heavy trucks can reduce energy costs, while autonomous systems can optimize acceleration, braking, following distances and route selection. In controlled industrial environments, electric autonomous trucks can potentially operate continuously according to centrally managed schedules, increasing equipment utilization while reducing dependence on human labor.

China’s industrial structure provides an unusually large number of such application scenarios. The country has enormous ports, mining operations, manufacturing facilities, logistics parks and freight corridors. These environments create a broad range of opportunities for autonomous commercial vehicles to generate economic value before fully autonomous passenger transportation becomes ubiquitous.

Policy has also played an important role in accelerating this process. Chinese authorities have identified intelligent mining and autonomous industrial vehicles as part of broader efforts to improve mine safety and promote industrial digitalization. Policy support, infrastructure investment and local demonstration projects have helped create conditions in which autonomous vehicles can move from technical trials toward commercial operations.

The development of autonomous heavy trucks is therefore increasingly becoming an ecosystem rather than a competition between individual technology companies. Automakers, autonomous-driving developers, battery manufacturers, logistics companies, mining groups and financial institutions are becoming interconnected.

This can be seen in the emerging investment relationships surrounding autonomous trucking. Battery companies have incentives to support electric commercial vehicles, logistics companies need more efficient transportation capacity, mining groups need safer and more automated operations, while autonomous-driving companies need real-world operating environments and large volumes of data. Investment relationships can therefore become a mechanism for integrating supply, technology and demand.

Pony.ai, for instance, has expanded its Robotruck business from long-haul freight into urban distribution. At the 2026 Beijing International Automotive Exhibition, the company presented a fourth-generation L4 autonomous heavy truck based on a battery-electric commercial vehicle platform and announced plans for large-scale deployment. It also introduced an L4 autonomous light truck for urban logistics and announced cooperation with China COSCO Shipping Logistics, reflecting a broader strategy that links long-haul transportation with urban distribution.

The significance of this shift lies in the attempt to build an integrated autonomous freight network rather than simply sell autonomous vehicles. A truck equipped with an autonomous-driving system is still only a vehicle. A commercially viable autonomous freight system requires vehicles, software, cloud-based dispatching, remote assistance, maintenance, insurance, financing, energy infrastructure and logistics customers to work together.

This also explains why China’s autonomous-driving development has followed a relatively gradual path. The transition from L2 driver assistance to L3 conditional automation and eventually to L4 driverless operation is not simply a matter of improving sensors or artificial intelligence. It requires redundant braking and steering systems, reliable computing platforms, functional safety, cybersecurity, remote operations and clearly defined rules for responsibility when something goes wrong.

The gap between a successful demonstration and a scalable business remains significant. Autonomous trucks operating on private industrial roads face a fundamentally different challenge from autonomous vehicles operating freely across cities and provinces. Public-road deployment requires coordination among different jurisdictions, consistent rules for autonomous vehicles, infrastructure compatibility and a legal framework capable of determining responsibility in the event of an accident.

Labor is another issue that cannot be separated from the technological transition. China’s freight industry remains heavily dependent on drivers, many of whom work long hours under physically demanding conditions. Autonomous driving could reduce the most repetitive and exhausting aspects of truck driving, but large-scale automation could also reshape employment across the industry.

The eventual outcome is therefore unlikely to be a simple equation of machines replacing people. A more gradual transformation could see some drivers move into roles involving remote supervision, fleet management, vehicle maintenance, dispatching and operational support. Whether this transition creates sufficient new opportunities, and how workers affected by automation are supported, will be an important test of the social value of the technology.

China’s emphasis on autonomous heavy trucks ultimately reflects a broader industrial calculation. The country has a huge freight market, extensive manufacturing capacity, large-scale mining and port operations, rapidly expanding electric-vehicle supply chains and a growing demand for logistics efficiency. These conditions provide autonomous driving with something every emerging technology needs: a large number of real problems that can be solved for a measurable economic return.

The United States has demonstrated the potential of autonomous passenger transportation through robotaxis, while China is building a different kind of autonomous-driving laboratory on highways, at ports and inside mines. The distinction should not be understood as a simple contest between two national technology strategies. Rather, each approach reflects the economic environments in which autonomous driving is being commercialized.

For China, the heavy truck may prove to be more than another application of artificial intelligence. It could become a bridge between automation, electrification and the restructuring of the logistics industry. As autonomous vehicles move from isolated pilot projects toward larger fleets, the central question will no longer be whether a truck can drive itself. The more consequential question will be whether an entire freight network can operate around autonomous vehicles.

If that transition succeeds, the significance of autonomous trucking will extend well beyond the truck itself. It will represent a shift in how freight is organized, how industrial labor is allocated, how energy is consumed and how transportation assets are managed. China’s autonomous-driving revolution may therefore begin not with the passenger sitting in the back seat of a robotaxi, but with the cargo moving silently through a mine, across a port or along a highway.

Source: xinhuanet, tech gmw, sohu, tech cnr