China in Translation

Netizens or Not? About Chinese Online Communities & Use of the Term ‘Netizen’

The term ‘netizens’, referring to Chinese internet users, is both loved and hated.

Published

8 years ago

June 15, 2018

Chinese internet users are often referred to as ‘netizens’, but some people say the term is outdated and inappropriate. Should something change? What’s on Weibo explores the term and its use in different contexts.

It has been an issue of debate for years; the use of the word ‘netizen’ in English-language media – especially when referring to Chinese internet users.

At What’s on Weibo, it is a word we use in pretty much every article we post. Online media in China is our focus, and how ‘netizens’ deal with social media and trending topics is at the heart of this website.

But many people have had enough of the word ‘netizen.’ Already in 2013, Matt Schiavenza at The Atlantic wrote that the term was “once useful as a way to describe China’s internet users,” but that it is now “meaningless, inaccurate, and misleading.”

Schiavenza argues that “netizens” is mainly used for Chinese internet users who are politically active or outspoken, while there is a huge number of Chinese people who are non-political in their online behavior.

The term has also been discussed among people on Reddit, where some call it a “stupid journalism” term.

At the conclusion of the recent Chinese Internet Research Conference at Leiden University, the term was also briefly discussed in the context of ‘online communities,’ with some scholars deeming the word inappropriate to refer to Chinese internet users – also suggesting that speaking of Chinese “online communities” in itself was problematic to begin with.

One discussion participant suggested that words such as ‘community’ or ‘netizen’ are labels used by outsiders in the academic world or in foreign media, rather than Chinese describing themselves that way – saying it is problematic because it is “our label, not theirs.”

Is this really true? What’s behind the term ‘netizens’? Should Chinese internet users be described with other terms than ‘netizens’? For what reasons?

Behind the Word ‘Netizen’

The word ‘netizen’ was first coined in 1984 and popularized with the spread of the internet during the 1990s. The word is a blend of the words ‘internet’ and ‘citizen,’ and is (or was) generally used to either refer to people who use the internet, or more specifically, to refer to people who participate in online discussions or belong to ‘online communities’ (Johnson 2013).

The term is also often attributed to net theoretician Michael Hauben, who used it in his 1997 work to define people who “actively contribute toward the development of the Internet” and for a “citizen who used the Internet as a way of participating in political society.”

Already in 2012,Time Magazine elected the term as one of the words that should be banished, suggesting it had become archaic since its launch in the 1980s.

But when looking at the more recent use of the word ‘netizens’ in academia and foreign media, the term is anything but dead. It does seem to be applied far more often to Asian online contexts, e.g. Chinese or Korean online users, than it is used to describe internet users in Europe or America.

The word ‘netizen’ used in random Google News search in 1-5 May period in 2013 and in 2018.

It is often used, for example, to talk about online fans of the K-pop industry or users of the Sina Weibo platform – suggesting that there has been a shift in the use of ‘netizens’ from the 1980s or 1990s to describe any internet user, to more specifically describing those (often Chinese) internet users that are part of a specific online circle.

From Netizen to Wangmin

One reason why ‘netizen’ is used in the Chinese case specifically, is because Chinese media and social media users use the word ‘wǎngmín’ (网民) very frequently.

Google News results show that the term wangmin (netizen) is constantly used in Chinese media.

Wangmin (网民) literally means ‘net-people’ or ‘net-citizens’ (thus literally: ‘netizens’), and is the generally accepted term to designate internet users in China. The term was described by the China Internet Network Information Center (CNNIC) in 2013 as “Chinese residents who are six or older and have used the Internet at least once in the past six months” (Shen 2013).

The CNNIC has used the term wangmin officially since 1997, the year of its founding, when its first ‘China Wangmin Survey’ (中国网民调查) came out – the same year that Michael Hauben theorized and politicized the word.

The Chinese term wangmin seems to lack the more political implications of the term ‘netizen’ in English in Western countries, which has come to imply that an internet user is politically involved in online issues. Chinese fans of certain music genres or TV series are hardly politically involved in online causes, yet they are still wangmin.

There are (political) implications to the term wangmin on another level, though; in Chinese media, the term is mostly connected to nations. For example; one can speak of ‘American netizens’ (全美网民), ‘Canadian netizens’ (加拿大网民) or ‘Chinese netizens’ (中国网民,国内网民).

There are also instances in which the term is applied to platforms rather than nations. Some Chinese media have used the term ‘Sina Weibo netizens’ (新浪微博网民), for example.

Netizens versus Netizens

So what does this all mean? Firstly, it means that the use of ‘wangmin’ or ‘netizens’ in the Chinese context is not the same as the way the term ‘netizens’ has come to be used in the English-language Western context.

It also means that the term is not archaic at all. After all, who can claim a word is ‘outdated’ or ‘old-fashioned’ when it is practically being used at all hours of the day on Chinese internet and in Chinese media today? Even though it has been used since 1997, it has proved to be anything but a word trend: wangmin has become a part of normal Chinese vocabulary.

Third, claiming that it is a “stupid journalist term” or “our label, not theirs” also does not do just to the word; in the Chinese context, the term is used far beyond journalism, and more importantly; it is used by Chinese organizations and individuals to describe Chinese internet users, meaning it is not merely a term that is used by non-Chinese to describe Chinese online populations.

Online Communities

One thing that stands out when talking about ‘netizens’, no matter in what context, is that it is tied to the idea of an ‘online community.’ Much has been researched and said about what constitutes an online community, but for the scope of this article, we could say that it minimally requires some sense of a shared collective identity or some pursue of a shared purpose (Massa 2017, 961).

In the case of China’s online environment, online communities are built in two ways.

In one way, it is constructed at the state level to “define wangmin within the nation-state boundary,” as Yiping Shen (2015) writes in Public Discourses of Contemporary China.

This is, amongst others, very visible in state reports or state media that define “Chinese netizens” (中国网民) in the same way in which citizens are legally recognized subjects of a nation or state, meaning citizens of the PRC. In this way, all of China’s 772 + million internet users are part of this group of ‘netizens’ and have to follow to guidelines the government lays out for Chinese netizens.

In another way, it is used among Chinese companies and internet users to define themselves, either in the way the state has intended it, or at a smaller online community level. And these communities exist everywhere, from small-scale to large-scale, some existing for a long time, some being short-lived; from the long-standing Rage Comics community to temporary groups and Human Flesh Search Engines, to flourishing BBS or WeChat groups.

A platform such as Sina Weibo also clearly defines itself as a ‘community’ (社区), with its ‘Weibo Community Management’ (新浪微博社区管理) being an important part of the site in setting out guidelines for its members.

Wangyou: Chinese Online Friends

So what options are there for future references to Chinese internet users? Should we just stick to ‘netizens’? Would it more appropriate to use the original Chinese term ‘wangmin,’ or should we perhaps use another widespread term, namely that of ‘wǎngyǒu’?

Besides Chinese internet users defining themselves as wangmin, the word wangyou (网友), literally ‘web friend’, is also often used among netizens to define the members of their online ‘community’ (e.g. Weibo) or Chinese internet users at large.

Jessica Sun (孙慧), linguist and co-founder of the Dutch website Chinatalk, explains that ‘wangyou’ or ‘webfriends’ initially was meant to define those people one knew from cyberspace, when internet just gained traction in China.

Once China’s online population grew bigger, the idea of wangyou also grew to include more people. “It could also refer to a larger group of people who share the same interests or attitudes, instead of just friends,” Sun explains.

Sun compares the use of wangyou to the Chinese word for ‘friend’, pengyou (朋友), which is often used to sound more intimate, although the person addressed is not necessarily really considered a ‘friend.’

According to Sun’s analysis, wangmin (netizen) and wangyou (webfriend) are generally interchangeable, although there are some subtle differences. Sun has some remarks explaining the difference between the two terms:

1. In many cases, wangmin could also be a wangyou, but not the other way around. Wangyou can be used to show a more emotional attachment or personal relation, as in ‘my webfriends’ (我的网友). One can not say ‘my netizens’ (我的网民).

2. While wangyou is more intimate, wangmin is more neutral, and is therefore mainly used by news outlets.

3. The use of the term wangmin or wangyou depends on the attitude of the person who uses it towards a specific person/event, depending on the ‘community’ they are in or the stance they have towards a particular incident.

For example, when Chinese media report about wangyou doing something or being angered about something, it often means this author/publication is siding with these ‘webfriends’.

Headline using ‘wangyou’

The headline featured above (“As policeman bravely sacrifices his life, [some] webfriends are angered about these details“) is a story about a policeman who died on duty while trying to protect pedestrians from an out-of-control car. When some online commenters said that it was the policeman’s job to protect the people, suggesting his death was part of his duty, many other commenters were angered with these comments. By featuring the ‘webfriends’ term in this headline, the publication shows it sides with those ‘webfriends’ who mourn the policeman’s death and who are angered about insensitive comments relating to his death.

Another story, headline above (“Shenyang policeman dies on duty, two netizens detained over insulting comments“), is about another policeman dying on duty due to an attack by a suspect, with two web users commenting that the person attacking the police was a “hero” for doing so. The headline states that “two netizens insulting [police] have been detained” – in such a case, the media report shows a distance towards the commenters – ‘webfriends’ would surely not be used to refer to them.

All in all, it is clear that words such as netizen or wangyou, although they might sound outdated in an English-language context, are anything but outdated in the Chinese context.

Nearly five years after The Atlantic posted its anti-‘netizen’ article, claiming the word “meaningless, inaccurate, and misleading,” recent uses of the term and its ubiquity in (Chinese) media show that it was perhaps the author’s perspective that was flawed, rather than the term itself.

For the time to come, Chinese ‘netizens’ are here to stay.

We’d like to hear your stance! How do you feel about ‘netizens,’ or would you rather see a more frequent use of the original wangmin term? Fill out the poll below:

[Total_Soft_Poll id=”1″]

By Manya Koetse
Follow @whatsonweibo

With contribution from Jessica Sun at Chinatalk.

References

Hauben, Michael and Ronda Hauben. 1997. Netizens: On the History and Impact of Usenet and the Internet. Computer Society Press: Los Alamitos, CA.

Jones, Paul Anthony. 2013. Haggard Hawks and Paltry Poltroons: The Origins of English in Ten Words.

Massa, Felipe G. 2017. “Guardians of the Internet: Building and Sustaining the Anonymous Online Community.”Organization Studies 38 (7): 959 –988.

Shen, Yiping. 2015. “Netizens, Counter-Memories, and Internet Literature into the New Millennium.” In: Public Discourses of Contemporary China. Chinese Literature and Culture in the World, Chapter 4. Palgrave Macmillan: New York.

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Manya Koetse

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.

3 Comments

david spencer

June 15, 2018 at 8:42 pm

I think another broadly positive dimension to the term ‘netizen’ comes from its association with the era of sometimes utopian thinking about what the Internet would be – from the time of Rheingold’s writing about the global village, and the signing of the Internet Magna Carta. Of course, those ideals are still reiterated in a more qualified way in the frame of digital rights activism – from the EFF, or the ‘web we want’ project.

In this context I think it’s significant that the neologism is in part from the term citizen, so it refers to people who ideally should be extended certain universal rights. Second, I think net+citizen is a contraction that suggests citizens of a global place or polity.

For this reason the term ‘netizen’ is invoked with regularity when people suffer recriminations from posting content online – can recall cases from various countries – thinking of two in particular from Iran I’ve recently reference in a lecture. In this context it signifies a matter of international concern for fellow netizens: breaches of a particular set of digital rights we’d like to see realised that transcend the laws of nation states.

I like the term in general, but especially because of these connotations.

Reply
Jimmy

June 15, 2018 at 11:15 pm

Net user may work, because it’s neutral and doesn’t assume anything about the human (or bot) behind the comment.

Reply
Cassidy

June 16, 2018 at 12:51 pm

I prefer simply saying “internet users” or “some people commented online,” etc., because it’s just as clear and makes fewer implications. Also, using quantifying words like “some” or “a few” are crucial in not inadvertently implying the opinion is shared by the entire group, whereas some news outlets will speak of “netizens” as if they’re always in the majority.

Reply

China in Translation

China’s 2025 Year in Review in 12 Phrases

Andrew Methven’s favorite Chinese phrases of the year, a special feature by RealTime Mandarin.

Published

5 months ago

December 31, 2025

Andrew Methven

Dear Reader,

Happy New Year! A new year is, undoubtedly, filled with new resolutions. I have a few on my list, and maybe we have some in common—like reading more books (my new e-reader is arriving from Shenzhen tomorrow!) and being more diligent about practicing my new Chinese vocabulary.

If upping your Chinese is also on your list for 2026, Andrew Methven’s newsletter, RealTime Mandarin, is a must-follow. It’s a free weekly resource that helps you improve your Mandarin in just 10 minutes a week, specifically designed for intermediate to advanced learners. I’ve been following Andrew’s work for over three years and love how he makes mastering the language more manageable, so I highly recommend giving it a follow.

Looking back on 2025, here is Andrew’s curated pick of 12 Chinese phrases to remember.

Every year at this time, we wrap up with our own “unofficial” list of top words and phrases. These are expressions that probably didn’t exist a year ago, but have gone viral and become mainstream lingo over the last 12 months. We’ve picked 12 phrases and avoided overlap with the “official” top ten lists.

Most of these phrases were newly invented or popularised in 2025. So if you haven’t been to China this year, you probably won’t know them.

And as always, these phrases began life in the most unlikely places: from Japanese Manga to Taiwanese baseball; from American online games, to viral moments shared by Chinese students living in the UK.

As we pulled this list together, we noticed something interesting: That it’s full of contradictions. According to these 12 phrases, and the trends they represent, it seems that for any one trend you can say is happening in China right now, you could also find another one that proves the exact opposite is true.

So we decided to explain our favourite phrases of 2025 through five contradictions:

⚔️ Contradiction #1: Consumers are not buying, but are buying like crazy

In January, consumer confidence collapsed, with retail sales in Shanghai and Beijing declining steeply. The broader trend of “consumption downgrading” (消费降级) began in 2024, with policymakers pushing for “rational consumption” (理性消费).

Yet 2025 also saw unbelievable and irrational sales success stories.

“Hard to get a Labubu” (一娃难求) became a trending phrase in June following the explosion of the Labubu (拉布布), an ugly-cute, kind-of-scary toy. Other consumer successes included the move into flavoured beer by ice tea giant, Mixue Bingcheng (蜜雪冰城).

⚔️ Contradiction #2: Businesses had an awful year, but a great year

In April, as the tariff war escalated, many of China’s exporters feared the worst: a “total wipeout” (团灭) of their sales.

China’s tech darling Xiaomi (小米) started the year strong with soaring EV sales, but by the end of the year faced a string of consumer backlashes.

While another EV brand, Neta (哪吒), battled collapse rumours at the start of the year, and outdoor brand, Arc’teryx, was boycotted after its disastrous “mind-blowing” (炸裂) exploding mountain PR stunt.

China’s big three ecommerce platforms — JD, Alibaba, and Meituan — continued in their “tripartite rivalry” (三足鼎立), each invading the others’ turf in a race to the bottom on price.

Yet 2025 also saw stunning business breakthroughs, such as when chipmaker Cambricon (寒武纪), fuelled by China’s “domestic substitution” (国产替代) push, surged from loss-making startup to briefly become China’s most valuable stock, surpassing liquor brand, Moutai (贵州茅台) in the process.

With investors coining a new phrase: “choosing chips over liquor” (喜芯厌酒).

⚔️ Contradiction #3: Government policy was forward-thinking, but also backfired spectacularly

2025 was the year of “Embodied intelligence” (具身智能), after the government prioritised this technology in its Work Report in March.

The following month, Beijing hosted the world’s first “humanoid robot half marathon” (人形机器人半马). And in November, XPENG’s humanoid robot, IRON, stunned observers with its lifelike female form.

Also in March, the State Council announced measures to stamp out “involuted” work practices. And by April, some of China’s tech giants had responded with the introduction of “anti-involution” (反内卷) policies, which has been an ongoing theme throughout the year.

But other government policies backfired spectacularly.

Strict alcohol bans introduced for government officials were criticised as “bureaucratic overreach” (层层加码), the introduction of the K-visa (K签) aimed at attracting foreign talent was derided on social media as youth unemployment sat at 19%. Mosquito eradication efforts in Guangdong were criticised as “using a cannon to kill a fly” (高射炮打蚊子) following heavy-handed measures reminiscent of COVID.

And in Hangzhou, a water contamination scandal resurrected one of our top phrases from 2024 when locals blasted the city government as an “unprofessional team” (草台班子).

⚔️ Contradiction #4: Youth are lying flat, but are fighting back

In August, we discussed a new phrase which had emerged: “rat people” (老鼠人).

It started when Chinese students in the UK began sharing “low-energy rat people” (低能量老鼠人) videos of their isolated lives enduring long, dark British winters. The meme took off as young people embraced “low energy” lifestyles.

But not all youngsters were taking it easy and giving up.

A Chery Auto (奇瑞) graduate employee went into “full confrontation mode” (贴脸开大) with his employer in August after refusing to work Saturdays, citing the government’s “anti-involution” (反内卷) directive.

And earlier in the year, China National Nuclear Corporation (CNNC) faced “widespread condemnation” (千夫所指) after its tone-deaf PR campaign celebrated how it had received 1 million applications for just 8,000 graduate positions.

⚔️ Contradiction #5: Influencers are out, but influencers are in

2025 saw established celebrities fall out of favour with their fans.

High profile entrepreneurs Lei Jun (雷军) and Jia Guolong (贾国龙), were branded “out-of-touch middle-aged men” (老登).

Meanwhile, unlikely viral stars emerged from the grassroots. Director Fang (房主任), a 50-year-old divorced housewife from Shandong, became one of China’s most-watched stand-up comics.

And a street vendor selling 6-yuan fried chicken cutlets in Jingdezhen (景德镇) became “Chicken Cutlet Brother” (鸡排哥) after a customer’s Douyin video of him cooking and serving customers went viral.

Of course, some unchanging themes continued to draw attention in 2025 as in previous years.

Like the abuse of power and privilege by China’s “celestial dragons” (天龙人): the next generation of elites who “leverage family ties” (拼爹) for their own interests.

So, let’s dive in!

Our Favourite Phrases of 2025

1. Mind-blowing

炸裂 zhà liè

💬 一个标榜户外精神的户外品牌，在最脆弱的生态环境里，搞了一场炸裂的秀。

💬 An outdoor brand that claims to embody the spirit of nature put on a “spectacular” fireworks show in one of the most fragile ecosystems.

Background:

Internet slang which started in Japanese baseball to describe explosive performance. It gained popularity in Taiwan baseball to describe spectacular moments. In Mainland Chinese it describes stunning and sudden success — such as the overtaking of Moutai by semi chip maker, Cambricon (寒武纪).

“Mind-blowing” can also be used as an ironic statement when something goes mind-blowingly wrong, like Arc’teryx’s disastrous fireworks PR stunt in the Himalayas in September.

Related RTM content:

2. Total wipeout

团灭 tuán miè

💬 最坏的情况下，储能在美国的业务会被“团灭”。

💬 In the worst-case scenario, the energy storage business in the U.S. will be totally wiped out.

Background

Started as a gaming phrase in team-based video games like World of Warcraft and League of Legends to describe total team wipe outs (all members dying together). It extended beyond gaming to describe collective failures in exams, work, or daily life.

We first came across it listening in to discussions between Chinese exporters in the face of US tariffs and the growing tariff war.

Related RTM content:

3. Out-of-touch middle-aged man

老登 lǎo dēng

💬 一连串的老登翻车，不能单纯用偶然和倒霉解释。

💬 When one boomer after another messes up, it’s not just coincidence or bad luck anymore.

Background

Originally a northern slang phrase, and a derogatory term for an old man (something like the English, “old git”). It took off this year after a number of high profile, self-inflicted PR disasters of high profile, influential male entrepreneurs. The most notable is Xiaomi founder, Lei Jun (雷军).

You can use it to describe any middle aged man who is condescending and appears out of touch with reality.

Related RTM content

4. Hard to get a Labubu

一娃难求 yì wá nán qiú

💬 火爆到“一娃难求”的LABUBU是泡泡玛特旗下“THE MONSTER”系列的一员。

💬 Labubu is part of Pop Mart’s “THE MONSTER” series, which has become so popular that it’s impossible to get one.

Background

One of the craziest shopping trends of 2025 — the obsession with these tiny, ugly, key ring toys made by Chinese company, Pop Mart. Since early 2025, images of Labubu filled social media feeds and become a must-have item for millions of fans and collectors in China.

Expect to see more from the Labubu in 2026.

Related RTM content:

Labubu are selling like hot cakes, and so are the fakes

5. “Chicken Cutlet Brother”

鸡排哥 jī pái gē

💬 最近，景德镇有个卖鸡排的大哥突然爆火，还被广大网友封为“鸡排主理人”。

💬 Recently, a man selling fried chicken in Jingdezhen suddenly went viral and was even dubbed the “chicken chop curator” by netizens.

Background

The “Chicken Cutlet Brother” (鸡排哥) story is one of our favourites from 2025. This 48-year-old overnight sensation is genuine, authentic, and unpolished – a refreshing change from the heavily curated content that dominated Chinese social media this year. His story echoes the “Second Uncle” (二舅) phenomenon we covered in 2022.

The sheer volume of memes and slang spawned by a single short video is staggering. Three phrases in China’s official top ten lists came directly from him. “Chicken Cutlet Brother” will likely become shorthand for authentic grassroots creators in 2026.

Related RTM content:

6. Rat person

老鼠人 lǎo shǔ rén

💬 今年以来，“低能量老鼠人的一天”系列短视频走红社交媒体，很多年轻人热衷于自我诊断为“低能量老鼠人”。

💬 This year, the short video series “A Day in the Life of a Low-Energy Rat Person” went viral on social media, with many young people eager to self-diagnose as such.

Background

The phrase “rat people” (老鼠人) began gaining traction in early 2025. It evolved from an earlier internet meme, “rat literature” (鼠鼠文学), a buzzword that first emerged in early 2023. By 2025, a related phrase emerged on social media: “low-energy rat people” (低能量老鼠人). It was first popularized by Chinese students in the UK, enduring long, dark winters in isolation.

It’s now become a way young people describe their low energy lifestyles.

Related RTM content:

There’s a new phrase in China’s “lie flat” movement

7. Over-privileged elite

天龙人 tiān lóng rén

💬 这的确是中国“新天龙人”的普遍特点——他们是很真诚地认为，集众美于一身的人生赛道是理所应当的。

💬 This indeed reflects a common trait of the next generation of the privileged in China—they genuinely believe that inheriting multiple forms of privilege is their birthright.”

Background

Originates from the Japanese manga, One Piece by Oda Eiichiro, referring to the descendants of twenty kings who founded the World Government. These characters enjoy extreme privileges, and consider themselves superior to ordinary people.

In Chinese online discourse, the term has evolved into internet slang to describe privileged elites in real life who are disconnected from ordinary people, who possess power and resources, live luxurious lives, and operate above the rules that govern everyone else.

Related RTM content:

8. Consumption downgrade

消费降级 xiāo fèi jiàng jí

💬 也只有走上消费降级，扩大食客基础的道路。

💬 The only way out is to embrace the consumption downgrade and broaden their customer base.

Background

Emerged around 2018 in response to economic pressures like high housing costs and slowing income growth. The explosive rise of discount e-commerce platforms like PDD (拼多多) became a symbol of this shift. The phrase represents a reversal of China’s decades-long consumption upgrade trend.

This year we’ve seen a number of major trends which fit the “consumption downgrade trend” — including the collapse of consumer confidence in Beijing and Shanghai, and incredible success of low priced convenience products like “one yuan iced cup” by tea brand, Goodme (古茗).

Related RTM content

9. Full confrontation mode

贴脸开大 tiē liǎn kāi dà

💬 一名00后奇瑞校招生李某凯“贴脸开大”，在收到公司周六开会的邮件后，直接回复拒绝，并且将邮件抄送公司高层，包括集团二把手。

💬 Li, a Gen Z Chery campus recruit, chose to confront it head-on by saying no to the Saturday meeting in an email, in which he copied the company’s senior executives, including the group’s second-in-command.

Background

Started online gaming where it describes high-risk, high-reward move of rushing directly up to an enemy and unleashing your ultimate ability at point-blank range. The phrase has evolved into internet slang to describe being direct or blunt.

It’s similar to “bringing up exactly what shouldn’t be mentioned” or being brutally frank, often used with a teasing or mocking tone. Just like a graduate employee at Chery did this year when he refused to attend Saturday training and meetings.

Related RTM content:

Graduate employee takes on Chery Auto and its overtime work culture

10. Choosing chips over liquor

喜芯厌酒 xǐ xīn yàn jiǔ

💬 在资本市场「喜芯厌酒」情绪托举下，寒武纪摇身变新王。

💬 Fueled by investor’s shift from liquor to chips, Cambricon is crowned the new king on the capital markets.

Background

A clever wordplay on the Chinese idiom “love the new, hate the old” (喜新厌旧), which is typically used to criticise disloyalty in relationships or fair-weather behaviour. The new version substitutes two characters while maintaining the original pronunciation: “new” (新 xīn) becomes “microchip” (芯 xīn), and “old” (旧 jiù) becomes “alcohol” (酒 jiǔ). This perfectly captures investor enthusiasm for semiconductor stocks like Cambricon while abandoning traditional alcohol companies like Moutai.

But the wordplay retains the original idiom’s critical edge, questioning whether Cambricon represents genuine long-term value or just another fleeting trend investors will abandon.

Related RTM content:

11. Using a cannon to kill a fly

高射炮打蚊子 gāo shè pào dǎ wén zi

💬 重型机械来灭蚊，真有种高射炮打蚊子的既视感。

💬 Heavy machinery for mosquitoes? Brilliant strategy, just like using a cannon to kill a fly.

Background

Literally “using anti-aircraft guns to kill mosquitoes”, which is a xiehouyu (歇后语), a traditional two-part allegorical saying where a vivid scenario delivers its punchline through absurd imagery. The phrase describes massively disproportionate responses to minor problems. While not coined in 2025, it became popular this year as commentary on heavy-handed government policies, particularly Guangdong’s extreme mosquito eradication campaigns.

It perfectly captures public frustration with bureaucratic overreach, when authorities deploy maximum force against minimal threats.

Related RTM content:

12. The beauty of an economic upturn

经济上行期的美 jīng jì shàng xíng qī de měi

💬 最近刷到越来越多人开始怀念10年代经济上行期的美。

💬 Lately, I’ve seen more and more people reminiscing online about the beauty of the economic upturn during the 2010s.

Background

This has become a viral hashtag on Chinese social media. It refers to roughly 2001-2015, when China’s economy maintained near double-digit growth and quality of life visibly improved year after year. Upward mobility felt tangible. Opportunities seemed everywhere.

This optimism defined early iterations of China’s largest online shopping festival, Double 11, launched in 2009, when it was ok to “consume and be happy” (消费即幸福).

But for many, that sense of optimism has now faded.

Related RTM content:

China’s Double 11 shopping festival loses its shine

By Andrew Methven

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China in Translation

Jiehun Huazhai (结婚化债): Getting Married to Pay Off Debts

Published

11 months ago

July 3, 2025

Manya Koetse

🔥 A version of this story also appeared in the Weibo Watch newsletter. Subscribe to stay in the loop.

Our Weibo phrase of the week is 结婚化债 jiéhūn huàzhài. Lately, the term “结婚化债” jiéhūn huàzhài, which translates to “marriage as debt resolution” or “getting married to resolve debt” is a recurring term on Chinese social media.

The word refers to a phenomenon that has become more prevalent alongside rising debts among younger people in China due to credit card debts or personal (online) loans. Instead of resolving their debts in other ways, there are people who turn to marriage as a way to solve financial problems. It’s not a promise of love-it’s a calculated transaction.

By getting married, women in particular can demand high bride prices and make their new husbands help repay their premarital loans.

Once they’re out of debt, they quickly divorce and leave their partners both emotionally and financially ruined.

Especially in China, where there are many more men of marriage age than women, women find an easy target in marriage-minded men who might not even be aware of their partner’s debt before tying the knot.

As a result of this controversial trend, bloggers and influencers are now warning people not to rush into marriage—recommending they check for financial transparency and, if needed, hire a lawyer to conduct a premarital financial investigation.

“The practice is old, the word is new,” one Weibo commenter wrote (“旧行业新名词”).

Others also agree that the phenomenon itself is not new: “Actually, this kind of scheme has been around for a long time, I heard about it twenty years ago. It just wasn’t that widespread back then because online lending didn’t exist yet. That said, society tends to adapt. Once a particular tactic becomes too common in the market, it naturally starts to lose its effectiveness.”

In the end, the best prevention against these sorts of practices is to increase social awareness—and not get blinded by love.

Explore more Chinese buzzwords and online language trends here.

By Manya Koetse

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