China Insight

China’s Crackdown on Tutoring Schools: Concerned Parents and Teachers on Weibo

The unprecedented crackdown on China’s private education has generated many online discussions.

Published

5 years ago

August 12, 2021

Regulatory reforms in China’s private education sector have triggered concerns among parents and teachers on what the changes will mean for them and their children.

The rumors on China implementing new regulations for private tutoring were already circulating for a long time, with official media reporting on a toughening of rules for off-campus training since March of this year.

The rule changes finally became a reality when Chinese regulators announced new reforms on July 24 that will radically alter how private firms teaching school curriculum will operate.

The new guidelines are also called the ‘Double Reduction’ (双减) rules for targeting “excessive homework” and off-campus tutoring for students in the mandatory nine-year education system.

The “double reduction” policy in a cartoon published by Chinese media: the student is holding up a heavy weight of off-campus tutoring and homework. (Source: NetEase).

Most importantly, the new regulations impose stricter regulations on existing private education institutions and force them to register as non-profit organizations. Any foreign investment in the sector will be banned.

The rules specifically apply to those private institutions offering tutoring on the school curriculum. New tutoring companies will no longer be able to get a license. It will also no longer be allowed for tutoring firms to provide after-school tutoring during weekends, public holidays, and school holidays.

Beijing, Shanghai, Shenyang, Guangzhou, Chengdu, Zhengzhou, Changzhi, Weihai and Nantong are selected as national pilot cities to implement the latest guidelines.

CHINA’S BOOMING TUTORING INDUSTRY

“If you come, we’ll educate your kid, if you don’t, we’ll educate the competitors of your kid”

When talking about education in China, one of the first things that often comes to mind is the culture of fierce competition, rankings, scores, and exams. The highly competitive nature of the gaokao (高考), the National College Entrance Examinations, has fuelled a private tutoring boom.

Companies offering off-campus training often provide very specific guidance to help students grasp the study materials taught at school. They help children with homework, and will generally work through all the subjects until they are completely prepared to take their exams.

Over the past decade, China has seen a surge in the number of private tutoring agencies. Due to the pandemic, that number saw a sharp rise in 2020. According to market research platform Qianzhan, there were approximately 340,000 more education-related enterprises in China in 2020 compared to the year before.

The market is enormous – there are nearly 200 million students in China’s K12 age group, and about 75% of them attend, or have attended, after-school tutoring classes.

One of the reasons that is mentioned in Chinese media for the crackdown on after-school tutoring is that educational companies were putting profits above anything else, and were feeding off parents’ anxiety while increasing the pressure on children to drive their business.

Most Chinese parents are willing to invest a large amount of money in their children’s education, as they generally fear that their children will be left behind if they don’t. The ubiquitous advertising of after-school tutoring agencies and their cunning marketing strategies have also exacerbated parents’ anxiety about their children’s future.

https://new.qq.com/omn/20201203/20201203A0EGL700.html

A telling and well-known example is that of a private tutoring school putting up a sign saying: “If you come to us, we’ll educate your child. If you don’t come to us, we’ll educate your child’s competitors” (“您来，我们培养您孩子；您不来，我们培养您孩子的竞争对手”).

Earlier this year, Chinese TV drama A Love for Dilemma (小舍得) reignited an ongoing debate about the problem of the extreme competitive education climate in Chinese society today. That problem is also referred to as ‘involution,’ where China’s ever-growing middle class is now facing the question of how they and their children can remain in the middle class in a situation where everyone is continuously working harder and doing all they can to rise above the rest.

MORE OR LESS WORRIES FOR PARENTS?

“This is not alleviating the burden on parents, this is forcing parents on a road of despair”

There are many people and experts in China who argue that the implementation of the ‘Double Reduction’ policy will solve existing problems in the tutoring industry and help alleviate the financial pressures on parents who feel they need to send their children to off-campus training schools.

But there are also those who say that China’s crackdown on tutoring leaves parents facing new problems. Some worry that the new policy will further increase educational inequality because richer families can always find ways to let their children have off-campus tutoring, while families with heavier financial burdens have no alternative options.

“Without extracurricular training, children can only rely on one-on-one tutoring in the future. It will be even more unaffordable. This is not alleviating the burden on parents, this is forcing parents on a road of despair,” one worried commenter wrote.

Another Weibo user published the following post:

“All of the bigger and smaller online influencers are talking about how it is right that off-campus training is canceled and they support it, but isn’t it true that you are knowledgeable and experienced enough to tutor your own kids or that you have wonderful public school resources? Before you write down your opinions, have you considered that there are parents out there in the remote towns and villages who haven’t attended middle and high school, and who are raising their whole family in the hope that their children will be able to test their way out of these sad towns? Have you ever considered that the English teacher in some cities’ public schools are art graduates retrained to teach literature, language, and math at the same time, and have to manage classes of 50 children? The children of these ordinary families (..), they do not have good public school resources, and all hopes are pinned on their extra-curricular tutoring as a small step forward. Have you ever thought about that? Perhaps you will argue that only the state can guarantee fairness for the majority, but eventually, there is social stratification. Perhaps you will also say that children know how to study themselves, it’s stronger than anything, and that they will practically eat their way through the study material, and that it won’t be a problem for them to do the exam and get into a notable university. But don’t you know that without good public school resources, children don’t even have a direction for their studies? Their parents are at a loss because they are exhausted from working from 9 to 9, seven days per week.“

Higher education is greatly valued in China, as it is often perceived as the key to future opportunities and climbing the social ladder. Many Chinese families believe in “winning at the starting line” and in the idea of “ten years of study to secure an entry key to a good university.”

There is a popular term in China – ‘jiwa‘ (鸡娃), literally ‘chicken babies’, which refers to the phenomenon that today’s middle-class parents in Chinese cities tend to arrange all kinds of training courses for their children so that they have a competitive edge over other children.

However, the reality is not just about hard work and being good students; many families believe that their children have to be the best, or at least, be able to stand out from the crowd.

The admission rate of normal high schools in China is only 50%, which means that most students will have to choose between two paths in the future: one is to go to university and the other is to go to a vocational school, which is seen as less prestigious. This is a cause of anxiety for countless Chinese parents. A lot of people say that even if the extracurricular class is banned, the hyper-competitive environment is not going to change in the foreseeable future.

One Weibo user commented: “We are likely to be [even] more anxious. The difference between private schools and public schools is huge, and now people who are poor don’t even have a chance to catch up.” Another user added: “Are you pretending not to know the reality? Are you saying that we won’t have off-campus tutoring now and we’re all going to be less anxious? Won’t our kids still face a fiercely competitive struggle for the gaokao?”

One online survey conducted by a Weibo account posed the question ‘Do you think the nature of educational institutions can be changed?’ The response shows that more than half of the participants voted ‘no, because of the gaokao system, parents’ needs for educational training won’t be affected.’ Less than one-eighth of respondents thinks the situation will actually change.

TEACHERS AND THEIR WORKLOAD

“We need to let teachers catch their breath”

Since China’s new education policy emphasizes the responsibilities of regular schools, there are also those who worry about the increased pressure on teachers, of whom many have already voiced concerns about the excessive workloads and unrealistic expectations of parents.

Chinese state media outlet Xinhua reported that, to fill the gap of the private tutoring schools, all compulsory education institutions in China will provide their students with after-school services starting fall semester 2021.

“I have a relative who is a teacher,” one social media user writes: “I know she has to work even during the break. She has to actively participate in social work. She needs to be in school at 7am, and after she gets back from school, she needs to reply to all the parents’ messages until 9pm. She also has to do online and face-to-face training, and to plan lessons and prepare homework.”

“Now, everyone is focused on reducing the workload of students, [but] we also need to let the teachers catch their breath. They deserve a better life, and the overall education quality can only be really improved if they have more energy for their everyday teaching,” one commenter said.

But it is not just the teachers at the regular schools who are seeing increased pressure. Many teachers who work at private education facilities are facing grim perspectives. In light of the new regulations, companies laid off hundreds of employees and shut down after-school tutoring schools in order to comply.

“My friend worked at one of the after-school training institutions. The whole company shut down after the new policy was released, and all of the employees lost their jobs,” one person said.

“Don’t tell me I just started my new job and already lost it within a month,” one teacher wrote: “This year is just too difficult!”

BUT WILL THE BAN BRING MORE BABIES?

“I can’t consider having a third child, I can’t even have a second”

China’s ban on after-school tutoring is directly tied to its recent decision to relax the country’s birth control policy, now allowing parents to have three children in light of the country’s rapidly aging society.

Reducing education costs is just one policy within a range of measures intended to combat falling birth rates and make it easier for parents to have multiple children, state media outlet CGTN reported.

Although many on social media do say they think that the new policy will reduce the burden for the younger generation, they do not necessarily believe it will ease the burden for this generation of (soon-to-be) parents.

These parents, after all, are often still working long hours themselves while also worrying about their child’s performance in a score-based education system.

“I can’t consider a third child,” one parent wrote on Weibo: “I can’t even consider a second child. (..) If I can save money [at all], I’ll spend it on one-on-one tutoring for my kid. After all, the gaokao college admission exam system is still here.”

“Nowadays, students have a lot of pressure, teachers face a lot of pressure, and parents also have a lot of pressure,” one Weibo concluded.

Facing the new regulations, some tutoring schools are trying to keep their head above water by training parents of K12 children now, instead of their kids. The Beijing New Oriental company has recently launched their “excellent parenting” (优质父母) training class to help parents train their kids.

“They had to take tutoring classes when they were young, and now they have to take tutoring classes again, this generation is really suffering!”, one commenter half-jokingly said.

For now, it seems clear that the burden on students and teachers has not been alleviated by this single policy move, even though Beijing’s strike against the private tutoring industry has rattled the market. Many parents will continue to spend huge amounts on their children’s future success, no matter what the cost.

By Yunyi Wang & Manya Koetse
Follow @whatsonweibo

Featured image: MChe Lee

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China Insight

“Even Pigs Have AC”: The European Heatwave Through Chinese Eyes

As Europe struggles through record heat, Chinese social media is turning the story into something much bigger than the weather. Plus: the graduation speech everyone is talking about & more.

Published

2 weeks ago

July 5, 2026

Manya Koetse

🔥 China Trend Watch (week 26/27 | 2026) Part of Eye on Digital China, this is my premium newsletter where I explain the stories, memes, debates, and viral moments shaping online conversations in China. This edition was sent to paid subscribers — subscribe to receive the next issue in your inbox.

Here’s your weekly update on what’s been trending. In case you missed it, earlier this week I published a deep dive into the CITIC Tower plane crash and how its immediate aftermath was handled online. In this newsletter: Louis Vuitton’s victory in a noteworthy trademark case against a Chinese tea brand; how and why the European heatwave has become a major topic in China; a controversial gaming character; and an inspiring must-know phrase of the week.

🗞️ QUICK SCROLLS

🍉 Don’t buy precut watermelons. During these hot days, watermelons are a popular snack, but this stern warning went viral: avoid pre-cut watermelons sold by roadside vendors, as they’re a potential health hazard due to improper refrigeration and cross-contamination from cutting surfaces and knives —you have no idea what else they’ve been used for 😬.

🇯🇵 China blames Japan for ties hitting a new low. During a July 1st press briefing, China’s Foreign Ministry said Sino-Japanese relations are facing “severe difficulties,” blaming Tokyo’s stance on Taiwan and security issues. The remarks come amid renewed tensions, including Japan’s announcement that multiple Chinese naval vessels had transited waters near the country and the reported formal arrest of a Japanese citizen detained in Dalian.

🌾 No messing around with China’s heroes. A Chinese agricultural influencer with over 2 million followers has been permanently banned from Douyin after posting negative remarks about the hybrid rice breeding technology developed by the late Yuan Longping (袁隆平), China’s national hero and “Father of Hybrid Rice,” widely praised for his role in combating poverty and hunger.

🛎️ The 24-hour checkout as a new hotel standard? Check in at 3 pm, check out at 3 pm the next day—that’s the idea behind a viral checkout policy introduced by the Chinese hotel chain Qinzhu Hotel (沁住酒店). The policy breaks with the long-standing industry practice of requiring guests to check out before noon. Instead, checkout is calculated from the guest’s actual check-in time, allowing them to stay for a full 24 hours before checking out. The policy is generating discussions, with many wondering if this could point towards changing policies in the broader industry.

🎖️ The Party turns 105. July 1 marked the 105th founding anniversary of the Communist Party, an occasion heavily promoted across Chinese social media as eight Party members received the “July 1 Medal” (七一勋章), the Party’s highest honor. Among them was Henan village Party secretary Li Liancheng (李连成), who transformed a poor village into a model of rural development. July 1 also marks 29 years since Hong Kong’s return to Chinese sovereignty in 1997.

📅 Interesting fact: July 1 is not the Communist Party’s actual founding date. The 1st National Congress opened in Shanghai on July 23, 1921. The Party settled on July 1 as its anniversary in 1938 only because the Yan’an-based delegates who had attended the congress, including Mao Zedong and Dong Biwu, could remember that it had taken place in July, but not the exact day (and wartime conditions made archival verification difficult).

🌸 Whose flower is it anyway? The French luxury house Louis Vuitton won a first-instance trademark infringement case against the new Chinese tea chain Molly Tea (茉莉奶白) this week. The Chinese brand was sued over the four-petal flower symbol in its logo, similar to LV’s core floral element. But many netizens disagree with the judge’s decision, arguing that the flower can be traced to the iconic Baoxianghua (宝相花) motif that flourished during the Tang Dynasty (618-907).

👁️ WHAT STOOD OUT

Nationalism, Soft Power, and the European Heatwave in China

AI-generated images posted on Chinese social media showing Europeans suffering in the heat while Chinese pigs are relaxing with cool units (left) and Chinese manufacturers selling out (right).

The high temperatures in Europe have become a hot topic in China, where the heatwave across France, Belgium, Germany, and other countries has been one of the biggest international stories of the past two weeks, with China cast in a particularly prominent role.

In China, the European heatwave, with temperatures reaching 40–45°C and causing deaths across several countries, is discussed from various angles and is also used to make broader geopolitical, economic, and ideological points about Europe and China-EU relations. These are the three dominant ways in which the heatwave is currently being discussed on Chinese social media:

🌡️ 1. “China Is Keeping Europe Cool”: European Heat Through the Lens of Chinese Soft Power and Anti-”De-Risking” Narratives

Chinese state media have framed the European heatwave by emphasizing the role of Chinese-made air conditioners. In countries such as Spain, Germany, and France, air-conditioner sales have nearly doubled compared to last year, with Chinese manufacturers such as Haier and Midea reporting sales increases of up to 70% while ramping up production to meet demand.

A main narrative is that China is helping Europe by meeting demand at a critical time. A similar narrative emerged during the 2022 energy crisis, when Chinese media emphasized how made-in-China products, from blankets to heaters, were keeping Europeans warm.

As a recent Xinhua commentary argued, the current shortage demonstrates that Chinese manufacturers are filling a gap where European companies are falling short. While Europe increasingly frames China-EU trade in terms of “de-risking,” the article argues that Chinese manufacturing actually provides resilience during times of crisis and should therefore be seen as an asset rather than a risk.

🌡️ 2. “Even Pigs Have Air Conditioning in China”: Schadenfreude and Nationalism

The heatwave story and the fact that most European homes do not have air conditioning have also been met with ridicule and disbelief on Chinese social media, where one recurring joke is that while Europeans are suffering through extreme heat, even pigs have air conditioning in China.

The story partly originated on Chinese social media but was also fueled by posts on X. Around June 24, one tweet showing Chinese pigsties equipped with air conditioners received thousands of likes.

Chinese netizens also had plenty of banter over other X posts in which Europeans proudly showed off their newly purchased air conditioners, as though they had just discovered a new technology. For many Chinese commenters, it is simply unimaginable that air conditioning is still considered a luxury in much of Europe.

A local Hai’er account on Xiaohongshu joked:

💬 “Europeans spend hundreds of euros on an AC and still have to check the regulations; we spend a few thousand yuan (…) and enjoy wrapping ourselves in a quilt while eating watermelon in the middle of summer.”

A recurring theme in these discussions is that China once admired Western technology and modernity, whereas today the roles seem reversed. Now, some commenters say, Europeans are marveling at Chinese-made air conditioners. As one Weibo wrote: “It’s like our ancestors when they first saw cars.”

🌡️ 3. Europe Is Putting Climate Policy Ahead of Ordinary People: Criticism of EU Governance

Another dominant theme is the idea that Europe has become hypocritical—or excessively “politically correct”—in its environmental policies. Many commenters argue that the low prevalence of air conditioning in European homes is partly the result of regulators’ longstanding skepticism toward air conditioning on environmental grounds.

This has fueled the narrative, amplified by Chinese media this month, that Europeans are now suffering and even dying during heatwaves because green ideology has stigmatized air conditioning.

At the same time, many users mock what they see as the EU’s willingness to criticize other countries over greenhouse gas emissions while failing to protect its own citizens from extreme heat.

One AI-generated meme showed crying polar bears, monkeys, and penguins alongside the slogan:”Save nature! Save the animals! Oppose Europe installing air conditioning—this is a betrayal of Mother Nature.” One of the meme’s posters wrote on Weibo:

💬 “Europeans have been preaching the gospel of environmentalism (环保圣经). Now, it’s finally coming back to bite them.”

Another depicted Ursula von der Leyen relaxing beneath a powerful Midea air conditioner, comfortably enjoying the very equipment that her policies supposedly discourage.

All in all, for some, the debate over air conditioning is about something much bigger. The lack of air conditioning in many European countries—along with the regulations, infrastructure constraints, and electricity costs surrounding it—has become symbolic of a broader reassessment of Europe. For some Chinese netizens, it challenges the long-held idea that life in Europe is necessarily better or more idyllic than life in China.

One netizen even advised fellow Chinese against emigrating to Europe:

💬 “Over the next five to ten years, I think people in China will become much more clear-eyed, and many existing illusions about Europe will gradually disappear.”

📱ON THE FEEDS

**No More Werewolves in the Love and Deepspace House**

The Chinese mobile game Love and Deepspace (恋与深空) has been all over the feeds, with some Weibo discussions garnering nearly half a billion views after the game was hit by controversy.

The game, developed by Papergames, is a so-called otome game — a story-based romance video game aimed primarily at women. Recently, a new male character lead was introduced: Ao Yin (敖尹, English name: Valk0), introduced as a werewolf, who breaks into the home of a woman living alone as part of a romantic scenario, after which he says: “What’s wrong with inviting the wolf into the house?” (引狼入室有什么不好) — a line critics say romanticizes non-consensual home intrusion.

What also sparked outrage was a reference to an “A-0731” file number tied to an in-game human drug-trial dossier. Players connected “0731” to Unit 731, the biological and chemical weapons program operated by the Japanese Army in China during the Second Sino-Japanese War/WWII.

The developers apologized, and for now, Ao Yin is canceled entirely — no more werewolves coming in the house.

🀄 ONLINE PHRASE OF THE WEEK

“Move forward firmly amid the noise”

在众声喧哗中坚定前行 (zài zhòngshēng xuānhuá zhōng jiāndìng qiánxíng)

An unusual speech by a Peking University professor made waves over the past week. Cheng Lesong (程乐松), chair of Peking University’s Department of Philosophy, delivered a graduation speech on June 26 that sparked widespread discussion for breaking away from the usual clichés and generic commencement themes.

In the speech, Cheng captured the cultural mood and social pressures facing China’s younger generations today: a society where everything—from career choices to a cup of milk tea—needs to be meaningful, yet increasingly feels meaningless; and where everyone is expected to succeed while increasingly feeling like they’re falling short.

“The anticipatory anxiety about the ruthlessness of social competition leads us to plunge into an overwhelming fear of failure,” Cheng said. “Because we expect constant affirmation, we come to interpret every ordinary day as proof that our lives have failed. We become absorbed in the hope that one day we will ‘begin our real lives,’ forgetting that we are already living them.”

Life was never meant to be meticulously ordered, Cheng argues, and needs room for a certain amount of chaos and twists and turns that no one saw coming. A completely disordered life is unimaginable, but so too is a life of perfect precision. How we go through life depends on how we deal with it, how we understand ourselves, and how we learn to allow life to unfold.

The true mission in our lives, the lifelong task that philosophy presents to us according to Cheng, is therefore to carve out a unique spiritual path for ourselves, and “to move forward steadily amid the cacophony of many voices.”

That message has struck a chord among netizens, with some saying they replayed the speech over and over again because they felt Cheng was really talking about the predicament facing young people today.

That’s a wrap. Have a good week, and keep your head cool.

If you find these newsletters useful, please be sure to like them, and share them if you want. I only started out Eye on Digital China on Substack late last year and could use some help in making sure the right audiences – like you – find my work.

Best,

Manya

Eye on Digital China, by Manya Koetse, is co-published on Substack and What’s on Weibo. Both feature the same new content — so you can read and subscribe wherever you prefer. Substack offers community features, while What’s on Weibo provides full archive access. If you’re already subscribed and want to switch platforms, just get in touch for help. If you no longer wish to receive these newsletters, or are receiving duplicate editions, you can unsubscribe at any time.

Chapter Dive

China’s CITIC Tower Crash: The Story That Never Trended

How information surrounding the CITIC Tower crash was managed, from a five-day media blackout to a sixth-day official narrative.

Published

3 weeks ago

July 2, 2026

Manya Koetse

🔎 Originally published in Eye on Digital China.
My premium newsletter covering the stories, memes, debates, and viral moments shaping online conversations in China. Subscribe here to receive future editions.

The story that never went trending was undoubtedly the biggest story of the week. On June 26, an incident at the Beijing landmark CITIC Tower (aka China Zun 中国尊) in the Chaoyang central business district sparked disbelief online. At 5:55 pm local time, a small plane, a Sunward SA60L Aurora, crashed into the tower, after which wreckage from the small aircraft fell to the street below (video).

For those who immediately responded to the incident on social media, it seemed unimaginable that this had happened in the capital. Beijing is one of the most heavily defended airspace zones in China. Since May of this year, recreational drones are also banned in Beijing, with outdoor flights requiring prior approval from authorities.

“A small plane hit CITIC Tower??? How could something like this happen? What happened to the air defense capabilities in our core restricted zone???“ one Weibo commenter wrote on Friday night.

After videos and images of the incident spread, online discussions were swiftly and thoroughly censored. That same day, while media outlets around the world began reporting on the crash, it did not appear among the top 50 trending topics on Chinese platforms—in fact, it wasn’t reported anywhere at all. As related keywords and hashtags were taken offline, it quickly became clear that this was the “6.26 Incident That Shall Not Be Mentioned.”

Even the next day, when Chaoyang authorities issued a brief official notice, republished by state media, the name of the tower was never mentioned, just that “a single-engine, two-seat light sport aircraft collided with a high-rise building during flight,” and that an investigation was underway. The one person on board, the pilot, died in the crash. Thirteen others were injured.

Later, flight tracking data revealed that the aircraft had taken off from Shifosi Airport, northeast of Beijing, and had come close to a Hainan Airlines passenger jet, forcing at least two commercial flights to abort their landings.

For the five days following the incident, little to no official information was available on the highly unusual incident. Meanwhile, Chinese authorities reportedly ordered a nationwide suspension of most general aviation activities, including recreational flying.

Why the CITIC Tower Incident Triggered an Information Blackout

But why has the censorship surrounding this incident been so intense, leading online censors to scrub all footage and discussion of it from the internet?

This has to do with the nature of the incident.

It is not uncommon for major incidents to be heavily censored, especially when the details surrounding them are still unfolding. But this kind of information “blackout” generally occurs only when incidents are considered particularly sensitive, and the regular toolkits used to manage and control information are no longer deemed sufficient.

Some examples include:

▪️The 2011 Wenzhou Train Crash, which happened at a time when the prestige and reliability of China’s high-speed rail system was celebrated as a flagship national project.

▪️The 2013 Tiananmen SUV ‘Suicide Attack’, which happened in a tightly guarded, already politically sensitive public space and the symbolic heart of the state.

▪️The 2022 Anti-Party Protest Banner at Sitong Bridge, which happened just before the opening of the 20th Party Congress that confirmed Xi Jinping’s unprecedented third term.

▪️The 2024 Beishan Park Stabbings of American Tourists, which happened just as China’s inbound tourism was beginning to recover in the post-COVID era and “China is safe” narratives were playing an increasingly important role in official messaging.

All of these incidents are different in nature, but what they have in common is not just that they are examples of bad news being suppressed, but that they reflect a specific pattern in which news that is bad for the Party-state is suppressed. In their own ways, these incidents—and the discussions and speculation surrounding them—challenge one or more foundational narratives about the competence of China’s leadership, its modernization, its security, its stability, and its capacity to maintain social order.

📌 The 6.26 CITIC Tower incident is particularly sensitive because it touches on several of these core narratives. It immediately opened the door to a flood of politically sensitive questions: How could this happen in the capital? Were the authorities really in control? Were the security systems adequate? Was it a deliberate attack? This all directly contradicts the logic of “Safe China” (平安中国), a grand strategy for governance in the Xi era that seeks to project an image of a closely monitored society in which risks are anticipated and prevented through the integration of efficient public security, surveillance, and Party leadership (see Trevaskes & Lin 2024)¹. A small aircraft striking Beijing’s tallest building—located in one of the country’s most tightly controlled airspaces—challenges precisely this claimed capacity to maintain order, guarantee security, and keep China safe.

📌 Another reason why incidents like the 6.26 one are censored so heavily is that they have the potential to snowball or even trigger copycat behavior. What begins as an isolated accident can quickly evolve into broader discussions about political dissatisfaction, which might spiral into social unrest – and protecting domestic stability is central to the Party-state’s legitimacy and maintenance of power.

📌 A third factor is the symbolic significance of the location. Unlike an ordinary office building, the CITIC Tower is a symbol of Beijing’s cosmopolitan skyline and of China’s economic rise and state-led modernization. Situated in the heart of the capital’s central business district, next to CCTV headquarters and visible across much of the city, it is one of Beijing’s most recognizable landmarks. An incident involving such a building inevitably carries far greater symbolic weight than one occurring in a less prominent location.

⮕ Taken together, these factors make the 6.26 incident unusually sensitive in political, social, and symbolic terms. It is not just a random aviation accident; it touches upon national security, state competence, political control, social stability, and the protection of one of the country’s most symbolic urban spaces. Rather than threatening a single Party narrative, as some of the other aforementioned incidents did, it threatens several at once. This helps explain why it was treated not as an ordinary censored event, but as one requiring an almost complete information blackout.

A Familiar Censorship Playbook

Although these top-censored news incidents are all unique, they follow a similar whack-a-mole-style playbook in suppressing discussion of these events, even though they had only just happened.²

The main playbook is always more or less the same: Sensitive incident occurs → News disappears from front pages and trending search lists → Popular videos and images are taken offline → Incident-specific keywords and hashtags are scrubbed → Censorship expands to generic category-level terms (such as “Beijing,” “Chaoyang District,” or “small plane”) that could lead users back to the incident) → State media remain silent while shifting attention to other news.

(This week, the distraction might have been an otherwise arguably uninteresting controversy involving Chinese singer Han Hong.)³

Offline, the same pattern often plays out through physical scene control: bystanders are asked to delete their footage, journalists are kept away from the scene, or even entire street signs are removed (as happened after the protests on Wulumiqi Road and following the Sitong Bridge protest).

Meanwhile, selected commentary from permitted voices is sometimes allowed to appear online—for example, from former Global Times editor Hu Xijin—although even those posts are not immune from later deletion, as happened following the Beishan Park stabbings. This is often the first step in shaping the official narrative.

A brief authoritative news report may then be released, often ending with a statement that “the incident is under investigation,” which also buys time. Sometimes, however, no meaningful official explanation ever follows. After the 2022 China Eastern MU5735 crash, for example, authorities never released a full public investigation report, even though reports emerging in 2026 claimed the crash, which killed all 132 people on board, was deliberate.

Nevertheless, an official narrative and investigation outcome do usually follow. The 2013 Tiananmen attack, for example, was officially labeled a premeditated terrorist attack orchestrated by the East Turkestan Islamic Movement (ETIM), with Chinese authorities presenting it as evidence that Xinjiang-linked militancy had become part of a broader international terrorist threat. In doing so, the incident was reframed from a local security failure into part of a global fight against terrorism.

Finally, arrests often follow, and people are held accountable. At the same time, those accused of “spreading rumors” online may also face consequences, while foreign media are often criticized for biased reporting or double standards. These counterattacks further reinforce the official narrative while simultaneously shifting attention away from the original incident.

How AI Chatbots Are Part of the Censorship Ecosystem

For the 6.26 incident, the main narrative for the first five days after it happened was that nothing really happened. Even Hu Xijin posted nothing about the incident.

On Weibo, the hashtag “The Story Behind the CITIC Tower Crash Incident” (#中信集团大厦被撞事件始末#) was taken offline, along with many others.

Five days after the crash, Weibo’s Qwen-3 chatbot (powered by Alibaba) claimed it knew nothing about any incident involving CITIC Tower.

The Weibo chatbot responds to a question about the CITIC Tower incident, saying it knows nothing (July 1st).

Six days after the incident, on July 2nd, DeepSeek’s chatbot went a step further. Rather than simply claiming no information was available, it described reports about the crash as fake news, stating that there were no official records or media coverage and that such rumors originated on “overseas social media platforms.” Kimi refused to answer questions about the incident altogether, while Baidu’s ERNIE Bot said it had no information about the incident and warned users not to believe or spread unverified rumors.

The 6.26 CITIC Tower incident illustrates a broader development in China’s online information ecosystem. A great deal has changed since the 2011 Wenzhou train crash. Social media control has become far more sophisticated—not only through better automated filtering, but also through platform regulation, agenda-setting, distraction strategies, and increasingly coordinated narrative management.

Now, AI chatbots have become part of that ecosystem.

Integrated AI assistants (LLM-powered chatbots embedded in platforms such as Weibo, Douyin, and other Chinese apps since 2025) are not merely additional tools subject to censorship. They have become an integral part of the online information environment and increasingly play a role in the handling of sensitive incidents.

Unlike Grok on X, these AI assistants are deeply integrated into the user experience and actively encourage people to ask questions, search for information, and receive summaries of ongoing events and controversies. What makes them particularly powerful from the perspective of propaganda and information control is that they can centralize official narratives at the platform level. Previously, that role was distributed across state media, government accounts, and other official actors.

Because these chatbots do not present themselves as state media or government authorities, they can appear more neutral and objective. Users may perceive them simply as AI-generated summaries with less media bias and greater factual accuracy.⁴ In the case of the 6.26 incident, they effectively conveyed a state-ordered message to social media users: that really, nothing happened, and that if something happened, it must be fake news.

“A Public Security Incident Caused by Personal Factors”

On July 2nd, Beijing Chaoyang’s verified official account issued a second short statement via its WeChat channel. This time, providing more details about what had happened on June 26.

According to the statement, the pilot was 66-year-old Mr. Liu (刘), a Beijing resident who was self-employed and lived alone. He obtained a sport pilot license in 2021 and a private pilot license in 2024.

Authorities said Liu deliberately deviated from his flight route, subsequently lost contact with the airport, and then intentionally crashed into the building, killing himself. They added that he had suffered from depression in recent years and that his diary contained multiple references to wanting to “end his life.” The incident was officially described as “a public security incident caused by personal factors” (个人原因造成的危害公共安全案件).

It is noteworthy that such a short statement includes details about the pilot’s age, marital status, pilot licenses, mental health, and even diary entries, yet provides virtually no information about the building itself, the security response, or the broader circumstances of the incident. The statement never mentions the CITIC Tower by name, referring only to “a high-rise building near the East Third Ring Road.” It likewise omits any mention of the aircraft entering restricted airspace, the reported disruption to commercial air traffic, or the obvious questions the incident raises about security failures.

On Weibo, the statement was widely shared, but comment sections beneath those posts remained either hidden or only contained a selection of replies.

And so, six days after the incident, there is a slight opening in the media blackout—just enough to establish the official narrative. This framing reduces a wide range of sensitive questions to the story of one troubled individual. It is not about broader questions of public safety or governance, but about a lonely man’s suicide; it is not about the Party-state, but about personal circumstances; it minimizes a news event that received maximum attention and turns a possible mass attack into an isolated incident. And so the message subtly shifts from “nothing happened” to “it’s time to move on.” The playbook is complete. It’s almost as if nothing really happened.

By Manya Koetse

With contributions by Miranda Barnes

See: Susan Trevaskes and Delia Lin, “Integrating Stability Maintenance into Comprehensive Governance: The Burgeoning ‘Safe China’ Behemoth,” Modern China 50, no. 6 (2024): 671–701. https://doi.org/10.1177/00977004241254709.
Some might say the 2015 Tianjin explosions also belong here, but that disaster was so large and witnessed by so many people that, while the official narrative was tightly controlled, it did not receive the same near-total information blackout.
This controversy involved Han Hong (韩红), a popular Chinese singer and philanthropist, who recently urged Beijing audiences in the local dialect to show up at the box office for the underperforming latest Feng Xiaogang film Catch the Spy (《抓特务》), for which she is the music producer. She used the colloquial expression zǒu ge miànr (走个面儿, roughly “show your face”), and was accused of inappropriately putting moral pressure on people to buy tickets, which also led to criticism of her charity work. She made the remarks at a June 17 premiere, and it didn’t become a dominant story until eleven days later.
See also: Yan Li, “The Impact of Automated Journalism on Media Bias, Accuracy, and Public Trust: Evidence from Young Chinese News Consumers,” Humanities and Social Sciences Communications 13 (2026): 688. https://doi.org/10.1057/s41599-026-06612-6.