Brand new skyscrapers and shopping malls, but silent streets and empty apartments. China’s so-called ‘ghost cities’ are a hot topic in the media nowadays. The city of Ordos, Inner Mongolia, is one of the most famous. Are China’s ghost cities really dead?
Tens of millions of empty apartments in brand new cities all over China, deserted cinemas and quiet parks. It is an image that has captured the public imagination: ‘ghost cities’ have become a popular China topic in international media.
American author Wade Shepard spent the past few years touring these new territories for his book Ghost Cities of China (2015). Earlier this year, he came to Beijing’s Bookworm Literary Festivalto speak about his project with New York Times reporter Dan Levin. Tickets to attend the event were sold out soon; everybody seems curious to know more about the modern phenomenon of ‘ghost cities’.
“The term ‘ghost cities’ is actually not appropriate,” Shepard tells Levin: “Ghost cities are places that once lived and then died. What I write about is new places that are underpopulated, and where houses are dark at night.” Shepard explains that most of China’s ‘ghost cities’ actually do have people living in them. The ones that don’t, are still under construction: “These new underpopulated cities are built by world luxury developers who are working on constructing new urban utopias all over China. The people living in these cities come from various places. Some are trendy people who are looking to live in a new city. Others have been relocated from their original villages. There are many from the countryside.”
“Never in my life had I seen anything like that: a brand new neighbourhood without any people in it.”
By 2020, China hopes to move 100 million people from the country’s farming regions into cities. China’s government-driven push for urbanization is partof changing the economy, going from export to domestic demand. New towns, with hospitals, roads and sport centers, are mushrooming all over China.
Wade Shepard’s fascination with China’s new towns started about ten years ago: “I saw a ‘ghost city’ for the first time in 2006, when I was a student near Hangzhou,” he says: “It happened in the small town of Tiantai. I took a wrong turn after getting off the bus, and I ended up in this new part of town with nobody there. Never in my life had I seen anything like it: a brand new neighbourhood with nobody there. I was so excited about it. My professors later told me those places were everywhere, they were not impressed. But it stuck with me. Just take any bus, and there is going to be a new city or neighbourhood under construction. I enjoyed walking around these areas. I went to Mongolia and forgot about them for a while, until I returned in 2012. I travelled around and tried to figure out what these places really were. They are the new landscape of China.”
Ghost city in Beihai (Daily Mail).
Shepard went out into China’s new areas by bicycle: “My objective was to go there and try to make friends. A foreigner showing up there is not a common thing, so many people want to know what you are doing there. It isn’t too difficult to talk to people.”
“People go from a traditional village structure to an elevator culture.”
There is an upside and a downside to the emergence of China’s new cities, Shepard explains: “There are people who are very happy to move there. Because they get a urban hukou, they feel like they’re moving up.”
A hukou is an urban residency permit. In China’s new towns, residents will get a different permit than their countryside one. It enables them to legally work within the cities and enjoy certain benefits. Health care, for example, is better than in the countryside. For some elderly people from rural areas, moving to the city could literally save their life.
But there is also a big downside to China’s urban migration, Shepard says: “Many people are moving from a traditional village structure, where people make daily social connections, and ask each other what they are doing today and what’s for dinner tonight. With these high apartment buildings, this structure changes; they don’t do that anymore. It’s an elevator culture. People also come from so many different places that they don’t really connect.”
Some people who move to the city feel like they have lost their livelihood: “There are those who have been out in the hills for thousands of years. Once they’re in the towns, they suddenly have to pay for water and electricity. They have to go to the store to buy things.”
“Good behaviour is the answer to Ordeos becoming a civilized city.”
The issues that come with China’s new towns are also visible in The Land of Many Palaces, a documentary by Adam James Smith and Song Ting. Filmmaker Smith came to Amsterdam’s ‘Pakhuis de Zwijger’ on November 12th 2015 to screen the film and talk about it, an initiative by the Centre for Urban Studies (University of Amsterdam).
The Land of Many Palaces focuses on Ordos (鄂尔多斯), a 21st century city in the deserts of Inner Mongolia. The city holds an estimated one-sixth of the country’s coal reserves. After the coal was discovered, the region went from becoming one of the poorest to one of richest in China. Coal exploitation has created many millionaires investing in infrastructure and real estate. New city district Kangbashi sprung from the desert sands, and is the result of such an investment. Ordos Kangbashi was built between 2005 and 2010. It has sky scrapers, stadiums, a grand theater, museum and thousands of apartments. It is ready to house one million future residents.
The documentary starts with a scene that shows how Mrs. Yuan, the community manager, guides people through their new homes. Some don’t know how to use modern toilets, stoves or heaters. Mrs. Yuan teaches them, and also shows them how the television works (“There are over 100 channels!“) These new surroundings are in stark contrast with those of a nearby village, where one farmer is working on the land. The houses are abandoned. “They all moved to the new city,” he says: “In the countryside, you can live for months without spending money”.
The Land of Many Palaces shows that moving to one of China’s ‘ghost cities’ is not just about moving houses, it is about changing lifestyles. Farmers have to get used to living in the city and cope with all the things that come with it. Community staff members go to public places to teach them “how to become a civilized person”; telling people that good behaviour is the answer to Ordeos becoming a civilized city.
“If the developers of the new city need your land, they will take it anyway.”
Employment is a major problem in China’s new cities. Many farmers have ample experience in raising pigs and working on the land, but their experience is of no use in the urban environment where there is more need for hair stylists and shop attendants. The lack of jobs is one important reason why farmers don’t want to migrate from the countryside to the city.
Center of Ordos.
One film scene shows a village where only two farmers are left. The rest of the villagers have already moved to the city. Ordos’s community manager visits the farmers to convince them to trade their clay houses for an apartment flat. When they decline, she says: ““If the developers of the new city need your land, they will take it anyway.”
“When we first visited Ordos in 2011, we expected to find a ghost city. Instead, we found a place that is becoming a city.”
After the end of the film’s screening, Adam Smith takes questions from the audience. About the start of the project, he says: “When we first visited Ordos in 2011, we expected to find a ghost city. Instead, we found a place that is becoming a city.”
Many of China’s so-called ghost cities look like ambitious dreams that turned into nightmares. “When we first started the project, we were somewhat indoctrinated by the general media reports in Europe and North America on how this top-down style of urbanization and city-building is wrong. But the more time we spent there, the more we started to think like the people there,” Smith says: “Nobody felt like what was going on was wrong. They were uplifted by the plan.”
Smith explains how many people, ironically, were pushed out of the cities to the countryside during the Cultural Revolution. In many of these areas it was hard to farm, and people struggled to survive. In some way, being taken to the city is like being saved for many: “We met very few people, if any, who were opposed.”
“Ghost cities are a hot topic, but ex-ghost cities are not.”
Although ghost cities are a hot topic, ex-ghost cities are not. “When a ‘ghost city’ comes to life we barely hear about it anymore”, Shepard writes. Although many of China’s new cities are still virtually empty, there are also those that have now become busier. Shepard names a few example in his article such as Dantu (Zhejiang), Wujin (Changzhou), and perhaps the most famous one, Shanghai’s Pudong.
“For the past few years I’ve been chasing reports of ghost cities around China, but I rarely ever find one that qualifies for this title. Though the international media claims that China is building cities for nobody, I often find something very different upon arrival”, Shepard writes.
Earlier this year, Global Times and China Daily issued a statement from the mayor of Ordos on Sina Weibo, saying: “We are not a ghost city“. Over the past year 10,000 houses were sold, it says. That still leaves 34,000 houses empty.
“They buy it to sell it, but none of those rich people actually live there,” one netizen responds: “The mayor just doesn’t wanna lose face.”
Other netizens say they like the city of Ordos: “The town is quite pretty, and the air is good,” user ‘392‘ writes. “I’ve just been to Ordos, and it’s really not as bad as the media says,” another netizen says: “The city is well-built, the air is good and it is safe.”
One other Weibo user also seems to like Ordos: “Finally a place in China that is not crowded yet.”
Maybe China’s ‘ghost cities’ are not that bad after all. They just might need another decade to really come to life.
Manya Koetse is a sinologist, writer, and public speaker specializing in China’s social trends, digital culture, and online media ecosystems. She founded What’s on Weibo in 2013 and now runs the Eye on Digital China newsletter. Learn more at manyakoetse.com or follow her on X, Instagram, or LinkedIn.
Red Carpet, Pandas, and Power: How China Read the Trump-Xi Summit
On Chinese social media, Washington’s red-carpet reception wasn’t just diplomacy but read as recognition of China’s restored status on the global stage.
Originally published in the Eye on Digital China newsletter on Sunday, September 27, 2026. Want to receive the next edition in your inbox? Become a paid subscriber here.
The past week was all about the Trump-Xi meeting in Washington. On mainstream Chinese social media feeds, much of the focus wasn’t on what was discussed, who gained what, or what was promised. It was about: How was China welcomed? How far did they go? How exceptional was the reception? And what does this say about China’s status as a major power on the world stage today?
Symbolic moments mattered more than strategic talks. Within that framework, President Trump, along with First Lady Melania Trump, hit the right notes.
The US visit by Xi Jinping and First Lady Peng Liyuan began on Wednesday (Sep 23), with Donald Trump and the First Lady personally welcoming them at Joint Base Andrews, a highly unusual move. Presidents typically receive foreign leaders at the White House; in recent decades, airport welcomes at Andrews have been reserved almost exclusively for popes. The last comparable presidential welcome was Kennedy’s 1962 greeting of British Prime Minister Harold Macmillan, a particularly close US ally at the time.
Wednesday’s welcome came with a red carpet, which members of the US military meticulously inspected and cleaned on their hands and knees right before Xi and Peng’s arrival. A photo of that scene was widely shared on Chinese social media, where many netizens seemed both bemused and struck by the sight of Americans quite literally bending over backward for their Chinese guests, with one popular Weibo account (@提刀探花在缅北) writing: “This is a scene that we will remember for decades.”
Red-carpet preparation at Joint Base Andrews
At the White House welcome ceremony on Thursday (Sep 24), where both leaders delivered remarks, Trump touched on the history of war and mentioned the American volunteer fighter group in China — the Flying Tigers — saying:
🗣️ “If we focus on our common interest, I’m confident there is much we can achieve. Throughout history, the pursuit of those common interests has connected our people across the vast oceans, across big, tremendous distances and many differences, and even made us allies in World War II. Look at the greatness we had together fighting in World War II.”
After the Washington summit concluded, Trump posted on Truth Social, calling the meeting one of “Friendship, Strength, and Success, for both China and the U.S.A.,” and adding that he looked forward to the next US-China meeting in November.
Historical Memory at the White House
But why did the special treatment given to the Chinese delegation in the US seem to matter so much in China, especially considering the ubiquitous anti-American sentiment of recent years? Not only did official media highlight it, but it also resonated strongly with netizens and became the defining story about this meeting on social media.
Blame Games & Bad Signs: Nepal–Tibet Floods, Huawei’s Toilet Trouble, “Screwed” Graduates
How the Nepal–Tibet floods are being discussed on Chinese social media. From solidarity and sadness over Gyirong to censorship and anger at Taiwanese, Indian, and Western media.
Welcome back to China Trend Watch (Week 34–35 | 2026), my regular tour through the latest trends, memes, and debates driving conversation across Chinese social media. I’m Manya Koetse, a sinologist specializing in Chinese digital culture.
In this edition:
Teachers get shamed for their students’ bad grades
Why the Nepal–Tibet floods sparked arguments about blame, BBC reporting, and Chinese censorship
Huawei doesn’t appreciate viral toilet humor
Dads are carrying mattresses into Peking University
Chinese graduates are getting “screwed” by a million-dollar company
🗞️ QUICK SCROLLS
🧑🏫 A teacher “shame photo” taken at a local education meeting in Liangshan, Sichuan, has sparked nationwide outrage. A group of primary school teachers was forced to pose in front of a giant “SHAME” sign because their classes’ average final exam scores were below 30. “This isn’t merely ‘shame’—it’s outright public humiliation,” one commenter wrote. Liangshan’s education bureau confirmed the photo was real and said it was “puzzled” by the practice; the Leibo County government has apologized and launched an investigation.
Teachers lined up in front of a big screen that says: “Group photo of primary-school teachers whose classes averaged below 30 points in the 2025–2026 end-of-year examinations”
🥬 “Chemical cabbages” (药水白菜) or “formaldehyde cabbages” (甲醛白菜) have been a major topic on Chinese social media after a Chinese investigative vlogger captured workers in Kangbao, Hebei, dipping cabbages into formaldehyde solution before loading them onto trucks. This procedure, which allegedly adds 2–3 extra days of shelf life, is illegal: formaldehyde is a Group 1 carcinogen.
🍫 It’s been a bad week for Mars-owned chocolate brand Dove. A marketing campaign suggesting that a girl received a box of chocolates from a man she was flirting with while her boyfriend was away (“趁男友不在”) drew anger online. Then the brand’s apology also became a massive failure: when it was flagged as 100% AI-generated, Chinese netizens had little sympathy left for the brand.
💸 A “century-old” shark fin soup served by a Shanghai restaurant for no less than 4,800 yuan (US$715) per bowl (!) has gone viral for its exorbitant price and claims that it has been “simmering for more than 100 years,” since the late Qing dynasty. There was plenty of skepticism about the soup, but also disbelief that anyone would spend an ordinary person’s entire monthly living budget on a single bowl of soup.
👩💻 An eighth-grader from Shanghai earned 18,000 yuan (US$2,678) in three days using AI. Despite her limited programming experience, the 13-year-old placed third in a marketing hackathon, where teams had 48 hours to develop and market an entire AI product. She launched a study-companion app called “Being There” (在场) that 92 people bought. Although Chinese media praised her, commenters were critical, suggesting she received help from her mother, an influencer on Douyin.
💍 In an aging society where marriage rates have AGAIN dropped, more and more places are making it easier than ever to tie the knot. Registration services are popping up in…
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