China Digital
From “Public Megaphone” to “National Watercooler”: Casper Wichmann on Weibo’s Role in Digital China
With Weibo now 15 years old, we asked Sinologist Wichmann about its evolving role in shaping public opinion, its key moments, and whether it can remain a major platform for public discourse in China’s increasingly crowded digital landscape.
WHAT’S ON WEIBO CHAPTER: 15 YEARS OF WEIBO
Over the past fifteen years, the Chinese social media platform Weibo has been a popular and extensively studied subject in academic research, inspiring countless studies across various disciplines.
In the initial years after the founding of Weibo (read all about Weibo’s founding in this deep dive), Danish Sinologist and China correspondent Casper Wichmann, focused on Chinese digital platforms, dedicated his MA research to studying Sina Weibo as a new public sphere on the Chinese internet. Now that more than a decade has passed, it’s time to reflect on how Weibo has changed and why this matters.
Before Casper shares his observation, some key points from his thesis “Sina Weibo as New Public Sphere.” (For those interested, here is a link to the pdf):
➡️ Wichmann’s thesis (2012) analyzed how the Chinese microblogging platform Sina Weibo serves as a “public sphere” in China, providing a new space for citizens to share information and voice public opinion. Using frameworks like Jürgen Habermas’ theory of the public sphere, Johan Lagerkvist’s concept of ideotainment (blending Party propaganda with entertainment to build legitimacy), and Andrew Mertha’s fragmented authoritarianism (how political pluralization affects policy in China), the thesis explored how Sina Weibo functions as an independent media platform while working alongside traditional media. It examined how public opinion is formed on the platform and the significant influence of both traditional media and the Chinese Party-State.
➡️ The Party-State’s relationship with Sina Weibo is complex, balancing censorship with strategic allowances to monitor public opinion, address corruption, and maintain its legitimacy. Through case studies like the Wenzhou train crash and the Bo Xilai scandal, the thesis illustrated how Sina Weibo can amplify public opinion while also showcasing the Party-State’s ultimate control over discourse.
➡️ While Sina Weibo enables public engagement and amplifies citizens’ voices, Wichmann concluded that its role as a public sphere is limited or “incomplete” due to censorship by the Chinese Party-State, which also hape discourse, use the platform for propaganda, and influences its operations and moderation.
➡️ Wichmann predicted that Sina Weibo would increasingly become a “battlefield of public opinion,” where Chinese citizens and the Party-State would compete to control narratives and influence within this digital space.
With Weibo now 15 years old, we asked Wichmann about three things:
📌 Weibo’s evolving role in shaping public opinion: Has it become more or less effective, and has its social impact shifted? Which news stories highlight Weibo’s continued relevance or its changing influence?
📌 Changing government strategies on the Weibo platform: What pivotal moments stand out when Weibo emerged as a political tool?
📌 Weibo’s present & future in a crowded digital landscape: Can it still compete as a major platform for public discourse, or is it transitioning into a new role altogether?
Casper Wichmann
Sinologist, China Correspondent
Casper Wichmann is a Danish Sinologist with an MA degree in China studies from the University of Copenhagen. He wrote his MA thesis on Sina Weibo in 2012 and has especially had an interest in Chinese politics, tech and social media, among many other topics. Since 2023 he has been based in Beijing as the Asia & China correspondent for Danish news media, TV 2 Denmark.
Since 2023 he has been based in Beijing as the Asia & China correspondent for Danish news media, TV 2 Denmark.
📌Weibo’s Role in Shaping Public Opinion
“15 years is a very long time anywhere in the world, but particularly so in China. If you look at how the country has changed as a whole in those past years, it is inevitable that Weibo has also transformed.
One of the biggest things is of course censorship.
I worked on my thesis in the first half of 2012 and handed it in early September that year, and a lot was happening at the time when it comes to China’s online developments. I remember that I even wrote a disclaimer in the very beginning that the whole paper might be obsolete at the time of reading, because you had a sense of where the Chinese government were moving in terms of control.
As it turned out, the government started cracking down on the influential Weibo accounts (‘大Vs’ – big, verified accounts) not long after, and also introduced laws to stop the spread of rumors. This, in turn, also paved the way for WeChat’s rise to prominence. You now have a lot of different platforms and apps on the internet in China for debate and shaping public opinion.
“I still believe that you cannot overlook or understate Weibo’s role as the ‘watercooler’ of China.”
That said, I still believe that you cannot overlook or understate Weibo’s role as the ‘watercooler’ of China where everybody comes together to talk about current affairs.
In my thesis, I argued that Sina Weibo could be seen as a Habermasian public sphere—an incomplete one—where Chinese citizens can come together and, to a large extent, freely debate information and public opinion. Even though the censorship regime has become far more effective and sophisticated, coupled with increased self-censorship, I still think that conclusion holds true 15 years after Weibo’s launch.
It is an open platform—censorship and control aside—where everyone can read, participate in conversations, and share information with the click of a button. This is clearly demonstrated by the way What’s on Weibo has highlighted many important topics over the years that sparked national debates thanks to Weibo. Additionally, can any foreign brand aiming to succeed in the Chinese market afford to completely ignore Weibo? That would be unthinkable!
“Foreign brands can quickly find themselves caught in massive controversies because Weibo still acts as a public megaphone”
In terms of its effectiveness in shaping public opinion, I think that depends on how we look at it. For instance, foreign brands can quickly find themselves caught in massive controversies because Weibo still acts as a public megaphone. Just think of the scandals involving Dolce & Gabbana (2018), H&M (2021), or Dior (2022), to name a few.
Still from the promotional D&G video that was deemed racist in China, causing major controversy in 2018 (whatsonweibo).
There are also examples like the Tianjin explosion in 2015, which quickly became national news and sparked public debate, largely thanks to Weibo—despite the aforementioned censorship measures.
The enormous Tianjin explosions took place on August 12, injuring hundreds of people. Many people only learnt of the news through social media rather than traditional news outlets, which initially did not report the blasts.
Another example is the tragic death of Dr. Li Wenliang, the COVID-19 whistleblower, where netizens mourned his passing while venting their frustrations on Weibo.
Lastly, the spread of the “Voices of April” video—a compilation of real audio snippets capturing Shanghai residents’ struggles during the Covid crisis in April 2022—is another notable example of Chinese netizens overwhelming censorship by reaching critical mass. While this occurred across various platforms, Weibo played a key role due to its nature as a public space for discussion.
All in all, Weibo is still a very important and effective platform on the Internet in China for public discussions, debates, and shaping public opinion. However, it is also up against a censorship regime that has evolved and continues to evolve alongside it. That said, one should never underestimate the creativity of Chinese netizens.”
📌Government Strategies and Control on Weibo
“In the early years of Weibo, some Chinese politicians and overseers found use of Weibo as a political tool. A specific example I included in my thesis was the drama surrounding the political downfall of Bo Xilai, then party secretary of Chongqing and a rising princeling within the Party, and the Wang Lijun scandal.
There seemed to be considerable evidence that netizens on Weibo were allowed for a long time to criticize and slander Bo Xilai before censorship eventually stepped in. There is no doubt that this made it easier for the Party leadership to oust Bo Xilai following the high-profile corruption case.
“As a tool to gauge public opinion, Weibo also enables authorities to monitor potential issues and nip them in the bud before they escalate into major problems”
I also think that Weibo’s importance as a tool for the Chinese government to gauge public opinion and sentiment should not be underestimated. It enables authorities to monitor potential issues and nip them in the bud before they escalate into major problems. It also facilitates public scrutiny of lower-level officials and governance within the Chinese system (舆论监督 yúlùn jiāndū, “supervision by public opinion”, also see CMP).
Bo Xilai during his trial.
Another important point is that the government and Party seem to have learned that it is often safer to let people debate, complain, and vent online, as it can give them a sense of being heard and allow them to release frustrations without escalating into physical demonstrations. Of course, there are exceptions where such online discourse also leads to physical protests.
There is also the aspect of how long Chinese netizens can maintain focus on a specific topic. For example, the Tianjin explosion I mentioned earlier quickly became a national debate, but over time it shifted back to being a local issue as Weibo users moved on to other topics. I have no doubt that the Chinese government has increasingly learned to use this dynamic to their advantage. It would be fascinating to study which types of topics reach the top trending lists, how long they stay there, how they are censored, and what topics eventually replace them.”
📌Weibo’s Business and China’s Competitive Digital Landscape
“It really says a lot about Weibo that it has managed to remain significant in China’s digital landscape, even after the rise of other major platforms, including WeChat, and despite the strict regulations and major crackdowns on the platform.
For example, WeChat experienced a surge in active users after the 2012 crackdown, as many felt Weibo had become boring due to key opinion leaders being increasingly cautious of censorship.
“Platforms in China are competing to capture as much of Chinese netizens’ time and attention as possible.”
Nowadays, there is a growing number of newer and more exciting apps and platforms in China, all competing to capture as many hours, minutes, and seconds of Chinese netizens’ attention as possible. However, I believe Weibo’s unique usage and role in the digital ecosystem are hard to replicate.
To reiterate, the platform’s “national watercooler” aspect—where everyone can check in, get a sense of what the rest of the country is talking about, and join the conversation themselves—should not be underestimated.
That said, Weibo still needs to consistently provide a service and product that Chinese users feel offers them real value. If it can continue to do so, I don’t see Weibo becoming irrelevant anytime soon.”🔚
⭐ To read more about the evolution of Weibo, also read: “15 Years of Weibo: The Evolution of China’s Social Media Giant“
Spotted a mistake or want to add something? Please let us know in comments below or email us. First-time commenters, please be patient – we will have to manually approve your comment before it appears.
©2025 Whatsonweibo. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce our content without permission – you can contact us at info@whatsonweibo.com.
Follow What’s on Weibo on
China Arts & Entertainment
How K-pop Fans and the 13-Year-Old Daughter of Baidu VP Sparked a Debate on Online Privacy
What began as K-pop fan outrage targeting a snarky commenter quickly escalated into a Baidu-linked scandal and a broader conversation about data privacy on Chinese social media.
For an ordinary person with just a few followers, a Weibo account can sometimes be like a refuge from real life—almost like a private space on a public platform—where, along with millions of others, they can express dissatisfaction about daily annoyances or vent frustration about personal life situations.
But over recent years, even the most ordinary social media users could become victims of “opening the box” (开盒 kāihé)—the Chinese internet term for doxxing, meaning the deliberate leaking of personal information to expose or harass someone online.
A K-pop Fan-Led Online Witch Hunt
On March 12, a Chinese social media account focusing on K-pop content, Yuanqi Taopu Xuanshou (@元气桃浦选手), posted about Jang Wonyoung, a popular member of the Korean girl group IVE. As the South Korean singer and model attended Paris Fashion Week and then flew back the same day, the account suggested she was on a “crazy schedule.”
In the comment section, one female Weibo user nicknamed “Charihe” replied:
💬 “It’s a 12-hour flight and it’s not like she’s flying the plane herself. Isn’t sleeping in business class considered resting? Who says she can’t rest? What are you actually talking about by calling this a ‘crazy schedule’..”
Although the comment may have come across as a bit snarky, it was generally lighthearted and harmless. Yet unexpectedly, it brought disaster upon her.
That very evening, the woman nicknamed Charihe was bombarded with direct messages filled with insults from fans of Jang Wonyoung and IVE.
Ironically, Charihe’s profile showed she was anything but a hater of the pop star—her Weibo page included multiple posts praising Wonyoung’s beauty and charm. But that context was ignored by overzealous fans, who combed through her social media accounts looking for other posts to criticize, framing her as a terrible person.
After discovering through Charihe’s account that she was pregnant, Jang Wonyoung’s fans escalated their attacks by targeting her unborn child with insults.
The harassment did not stop there. Around midnight, fans doxxed Charihe, exposing her personal information, workplace, and the contact details of her family and friends. Her friends were flooded with messages, and some were even targeted at their workplaces.
Then, they tracked down Charihe’s husband’s WeChat account, sent him screenshots of her posts, and encouraged him to “physically punish” her.
The extremity of the online harassment finally drew backlash from netizens, who expressed concern for this ordinary pregnant woman’s situation:
💬 “Her entire life was exposed to people she never wanted to know about.”
💬 “Suffering this kind of attack during pregnancy is truly an undeserved disaster.”
Despite condemnation of the hate, some extreme self-proclaimed “fans” remained relentless in the online witch hunt against Charihe.
Baidu Takes a Hit After VP’s 13-Year-Old Daughter Is Exposed
One female fan, nicknamed “YourEyes” (@你的眼眸是世界上最小的湖泊), soon started doxxing commenters who had defended her. The speed and efficiency of these attacks left many stunned at just how easy it apparently is to trace social media users and doxx them.
Digging into old Weibo posts from the “YourEyes” account, people found she had repeatedly doxxed people on social media since last year, using various alt accounts.
She had previously also shared information claiming to study in Canada and boasted about her father’s monthly salary of 220,000 RMB (approx. $30.3K), along with a photo of a confirmation document.
Piecing together the clues, online sleuths finally identified her as the daughter of Xie Guangjun (谢广军), Vice President of Baidu.
From an online hate campaign against an innocent, snarky commenter, the case then became a headline in Chinese state media, and even made international headlines, after it was confirmed that the user “YourEyes”—who had been so quick to dig up others’ personal details—was in fact the 13-year-old daughter of Xie Guangjun, vice president at one of China’s biggest tech giants.
On March 17, Xie Guangjun posted the following apology to his WeChat Moments:
💬 “Recently, my 13-year-old daughter got into an online dispute. Losing control of her emotions, she published other people’s private information from overseas social platforms onto her own account. This led to her own personal information also getting exposed, triggering widespread negative discussion.
As her father, I failed to detect the problem in time and failed to guide her in how to properly handle the situation. I did not teach her the importance of respecting and protecting the privacy of others and of herself, for which I feel deep regret.
In response to this incident, I have communicated with my daughter and sternly criticized her actions. I hereby sincerely apologize to all friends affected.
As a minor, my daughter’s emotional and cognitive maturity is still developing. In a moment of impulsiveness, she made a wrong decision that hurt others and, at the same time, found herself caught in a storm of controversy that has subjected her to pressure and distress far beyond her age.
Here, I respectfully ask everyone to stop spreading related content and to give her the opportunity to correct her mistakes and grow.
Once again, I extend my apologies, and I sincerely thank everyone for your understanding and kindness.”
The public response to Xie’s apology has been largely negative. Many criticized the fact that it was posted privately on WeChat Moments rather than shared on a public platform like Weibo. Some dismissed the statement as an attempt to pacify Baidu shareholders and colleagues rather than take real accountability.
Netizens also pointed out that the apology avoided addressing the core issue of doxxing. Concerns were raised about whether Xie’s position at Baidu—and potential access to sensitive information—may have helped his daughter acquire the data she used to doxx others.
Adding fuel to the speculation were past conversations allegedly involving one of @YourEyes’ alt accounts. In one exchange, when asked “Who are you doxxing next?” she replied, “My parents provided the info,” with a friend adding, “The Baidu database can doxx your entire family.”
Following an internal investigation, Baidu’s head of security, Chen Yang (陈洋), stated on the company’s internal forum that Xie Guangjun’s daughter did not obtain data from Baidu but from “overseas sources.”
However, this clarification did little to reassure the public—and Baidu’s reputation has taken a hit. The company has faced prior scandals, most notably a the 2016 controversy over profiting from misleading medical advertisements.
Online Vulnerability
Beyond Baidu’s involvement, the incident reignited wider concerns about online privacy in China. “Even if it didn’t come from Baidu,” one user wrote, “the fact that a 13-year-old can access such personal information about strangers is terrifying.”
Using the hashtag “Reporter buys own confidential data” (#记者买到了自己的秘密#), Chinese media outlet Southern Metropolis Daily (@南方都市报) recently reported that China’s gray market for personal data has grown significantly. For just 300 RMB ($41), their journalist was able to purchase their own household registration data.
Further investigation uncovered underground networks that claim to cooperate with police, offering a “70-30 profit split” on data transactions.
These illegal data practices are not just connected to doxxing but also to widespread online fraud.
In response, some netizens have begun sharing guides on how to protect oneself from doxxing. For example, they recommend people disable phone number search on apps like WeChat and Alipay, hide their real name in settings, and avoid adding strangers, especially if they are active in fan communities.
Amid the chaos, K-pop fan wars continue to rage online. But some voices—such as influencer Jingzai (@一个特别虚荣的人)—have pointed out that the real issue isn’t fandom, but the deeper problem of data security.
💬 “You should question Baidu, question the telecom giants, question the government, and only then, fight over which fan group started this.”
As for ‘Charihe,’ whose comment sparked it all—her account is now gone. Her username has become a hashtag. For some, it’s still a target for online abuse. For others, it is a reminder of just how vulnerable every user is in a world where digital privacy is far from guaranteed.
By Ruixin Zhang
Independently covering digital China for over a decade. Like what we do? Support us and get the story behind the hashtag by subscribing:
edited for clarity by Manya Koetse
Spotted a mistake or want to add something? Please let us know in comments below or email us. First-time commenters, please be patient – we will have to manually approve your comment before it appears.
©2024 Whatsonweibo. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce our content without permission – you can contact us at info@whatsonweibo.com.
China Digital
Chinese Netizens Turn to Tim Cook Over Battery Factory’s Illegal Overtime
Is turning to Western suppliers an effective way for workers to pressure domestic companies into complying with labor laws?
We include this content in the Weibo Watch newsletter. Subscribe to get it in your inbox 📩
Recently, Chinese netizens have started reaching out to Apple and its CEO Tim Cook in order to put pressure on a state-owned battery factory accused of violating labor laws.
The controversy involves the Huizhou factory of Desay Battery (德赛电池), known for producing lithium batteries for the high-end smartphone market, including Apple and Samsung. The factory caught netizens’ attention after a worker exposed in a video that his superiors were deducting three days of wages because he worked an 8-hour shift instead of the company’s “mandatory 10-hour on-duty.” Compulsory overtime violates China’s labor laws.
In response, the worker and other netizens started to let Apple know about the situation through email and social media, trying to put pressure on the factory by highlighting its position in the Apple supply chain. In at least one instance, Apple confirmed receipt of the complaint. (Meanwhile, on Tim Cook’s official Weibo account, the comment section underneath his most recent post is clearly being censored.)
Screenshot of replies on X underneath a post by Tim Cook on International Women’s Day.
The factory, however, has denied the allegations, , claiming that the video creator was spreading untruths and that they had reported him to authorities. His content has since also been removed. A staff member at Desay Battery maintained that they adhere to the 8-hour workday and appropriately compensate workers for overtime.
At the same time, Desay Battery issued an official statement, admitting to “management oversights regarding employee rights protection” (“保障员工权益的管理上存在疏漏”) and promising to do better in safeguarding employee rights.
One NetEase account (大风文字) suggested that for Chinese workers to effectively expose labor violations, reporting them to Western suppliers or EU regulators is an effective way to force domestic companies to respect labor laws.
Another commentary channel (上峰视点) was less optimistic about the effectiveness, arguing that companies like Apple would be quick to drop suppliers over product quality issues but more willing to turn a blind eye to labor violations—since cheap labor remains a key competitive advantage in Chinese manufacturing.
By Manya Koetse
(follow on X, LinkedIn, or Instagram)
Spotted a mistake or want to add something? Please let us know in comments below or email us. First-time commenters, please be patient – we will have to manually approve your comment before it appears.
©2025 Whatsonweibo. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce our content without permission – you can contact us at info@whatsonweibo.com.
Follow What’s on Weibo on
Chinese New Nickname for Trump Mixes Fairy Tales with Tariff War
China Trending Week 15/16: Gu Ming Viral Collab, Maozi & Meigui Fallout, Datong Post-Engagement Rape Case
China Reacts: 3 Trending Hashtags Shaping the Tariff War Narrative
No Quiet Qingming: From High-Tech Tomb-Sweeping to IShowSpeed & the Seven China Streams
From Trade Crisis to Patriotic Push: Chinese Online Reactions to Trump’s Tariffs
“Dear Li Hua”: The TikTok/Xiaohongshu Honeymoon Explained
Beyond the Box Office: What’s Behind Ne Zha 2’s Success?
IShowSpeed in China: Streaming China’s Stories Well
15 Years of Weibo: The Evolution of China’s Social Media Giant
Tuning Into the Year of the Snake
TikTok Refugees, Xiaohongshu, and the Letters from Li Hua
The ‘China-chic Girl’ Image and the Realities of China’s Competitive Food Delivery Market
US-Russia Rapprochement and “Saint Zelensky”: Chinese Online Reactions to Trump’s Shake-Up
“Black Myth: Wukong”: From Gaming Screens to the CMG Spring Festival Gala?
Collective Grief Over “Big S”
-
China Insight12 months agoThe Tragic Story of “Fat Cat”: How a Chinese Gamer’s Suicide Went Viral
-
China Digital11 months agoChina’s 2024 Gaokao Triggers Online Discussions on AI
-
China Arts & Entertainment11 months agoSinging Competition or Patriotic Fight? Hunan TV’s ‘Singer 2024’ Stirs Nationalistic Sentiments
-
China Brands, Marketing & Consumers12 months agoA Brew of Controversy: Lu Xun and LELECHA’s ‘Smoky’ Oolong Tea