When the Chinese government announced that it would be ending its One-Child Policy in the summer of 2015, 36 years after it was first implemented, the topic exploded on Weibo. Many netizens applauded the news and considered it a step forward in people’s personal freedom and individual rights.
The Two-Child Policy (二孩政策) allows all couples to have a maximum of two children. But now, over a year after it has gone into effect, there are also voices saying that the new family planning policy is actually a setback for women’s rights in China and that the One-Child Policy, as controversial as it might have been, has greatly improved the role of women in society in multiple ways.
THE TWO CHILD POLICY: A YEAR LATER
“The vigorous propagation for women to return home to have children goes against the image of the emancipated Chinese woman.”
One of the consequences of China’s One-Child Policy, designed to curb the growth of China’s population, is that Chinese society is now ageing. The latest population statistics after the introduction of the ‘Two-Child Policy’ show that 17,86 million children were born in 2016; an increase of 7.9% compared to the year before (when the One-Child Policy was still in place).
But the current population growth might not be enough to combat demographic challenges in the decades to come. Chinese state media are now encouraging couples to have more children, something that became particularly clear during this year’s CCTV Gala and a recent lengthy People’s Daily article that hinted at the legalization of surrogacy to increase the country’s birth rates.
It led to angry reactions on Chinese social media, where many women felt that they were being degraded to “breeding machines”, and that the “vigorous propagation” for women to “return home to have children” goes against the image of the emancipated Chinese woman.
ONE-CHILD POLICY: THE SIGNIFICANCE FOR WOMEN
“Slogans propagated that daughters could also carry the honor of the family line, and that girls and boys were equally important for the future of China.”
The Feminist Webforum (@女权主义贴吧) recently posted an article (link in Chinese) on Weibo titled “The One-Child Policy’s Three Major Contributions to Chinese Women’s Status,” in which it argued that the China’s One Child Policy (1979-2016) has significantly emancipated Chinese women.
The article looks back at different government’s slogans that were widely propagated during the One-Child Policy, and explains how and why they contributed to a bettered women’s status in China.
It also indicates that the recent developments around the Two Child Policy, with increasing media emphasis on reproduction, is negatively affecting the status of women in Chinese society.
The slogans “It is all the same whether you give birth to a boy or give birth to a girl” (生男生女都一样) and “Daughters also carry on the family line” (女儿也是传后人) were propagated throughout China since the 1980s up to the most remote parts of rural China.
In the patriarchal Chinese society, there is a deep-rooted preference for sons. Boys are expected to carry on the family line, become the laborers, and support the older generations (Sudbeck 2012, 44).
With the implementation of the One-Child Policy, the government strongly pushed the idea of male-female equality. Slogans propagated that daughters could also carry the honor of the family line, and that girls and boys were equally important for the future of China.
The Female Webforum article argues that this widely propagated government stance improved the status of women, as daughters came to play a more important role in the family and received more attention and a better education.
This is also reiterated by Kristine Sudbeck in the article “The Effects of China’s One-Child Policy: The Significance for Chinese Women” (2012), in which she writes that China’s One-Child Policy has indirectly benefited the role of women in society because, among others, singleton daughters received greater parental investment in terms of wealth, pride, and education (43-44).
The improved education levels for women also opened the doors to more non-traditional jobs for women, with which came a greater gender equality – not just within the family, but within the society at large.
In 2014, 64% of Chinese women were in the labor force, and the percentage of women in management positions in China is much higher than that of neighbouring countries like South Korea, Japan, India, or Taiwan (Catalyst 2016, CS 2014: 8).
But the Feminist Webforum writes that since the introduction of the Two-Child Policy, the calls for extended maternity leaves and for women to return home to be a good mother are growing louder every day, potentially harming the (economic) position of women in China in the long run.
Another propagated principle during the One-Child Policy was that of later marriage and later childbirth.
Although the legal age of marrying in China is 20 for women and 22 for men, late marriage (23+ for women and 25+ for men) have been specifically encouraged by Chinese authorities to benefit the state, the family, and the individual.
The propagation of late marriage and childbirth meant that women could first concentrate on their studies and career before taking on the role as wife or mother.
Since January 2016, it seems that getting married later on is no longer encouraged. At the same time the Two-Child Policy was implemented, the Chinese government canceled the ‘late wedding leave’: a 30-day paid work leave to encourage getting married after the age of 25.
The Feminist Webforum article writes that Chinese media have started to encourage women to have children while still attending college, as in this widely published article (link in Chinese) titled: “University students have children while still in school: third-year students already have 2 children, majority does not regret.”
Articles such as these falsely suggest that it might be easier to find a job when women are already married with children. But according to the Feminist Webforum, the employment rate of women without children is actually much higher than of those who have had a baby.
Getting married and having a baby after the age of 25, the article argues, is better for a woman’s mental and physical health, as well as for her future education and career. Encouraging women to start having children early on might negatively influence her future and her independence – a setback for female emancipation.
A third and final point mentioned in the article is that under the One-Child Policy the slogan “Superior Birth, Superior Childrearing” (优生优育) was propagated, in which there was an emphasis on conceiving and raising a ‘quality child.’
The article points out that with a general heightened focus on prenatal and postnatal care, thousands of women were saved from maternal death.
Before the One-Child Policy and in its early years, there was a great lack of prenatal care, and many women only relied on midwives while giving birth – if they could afford one at all. The rate of in-hospital delivery increased from 43.7% of women in 1985 up to an in-hospital delivery for rural women of 96.7% in 2011.
The Feminist Webforum points out that in the first half year since the implementation of the Two-Child Policy, there was a staggering 30% increase in maternal mortality. This increase relates to a larger proportion of elder pregnant women, causing more health problems during pregnancy and childbirth. It also has to do with health care resources being unable to deal with the rise in births, and, according to the article, is another reason why the Two Child Policy is not improving the situation of women in China.
A ROSE-COLORED PICTURE?
“Although China’s One-Child Policy is known for creating hardships, it has helped to greatly improve the position of women in China.”
Is the Feminist Webforum right? Was the One-Child Policy really so beneficial for women? Although China’s One-Child Policy is mainly known for creating hardships for women, studies have shown that it has indeed helped to greatly improve the position of women in China in terms of gender equality, parental investment, educational attainment, career, and in terms of their familial, societal and political participation (Sudbeck 2012, 55).
Although providing very valid points, the Feminist Webforum’s article is making the decades of the One-Child Policy appear somewhat more rose-colored than they were. For example; even if the rate of prenatal complications and maternal deaths greatly improved after the implementation of the One-Child Policy (and have worsened after ending it in 2016), the article does not mention that women with unapproved pregnancies received less prenatal care and had a much higher risk (2.5 x) of maternal death than with an approved pregnancy (Nayak 2008, 14).
It also does not mention female infanticide or the large number of female-selective abortions. In the 1980-2000 period alone, it is estimated that the total number of female selective abortions was around 4 million (Sudbeck 2012, 47). Nor does it mention the abandonment of children, who were mostly girls. Around the turn of the century, China had around one million almost exclusively female orphans.
The One-Child Policy also had other far-reaching consequences. Some couples moved away from mainland China to have more freedom in their reproductive rights, while others paid for expensive fertility drugs (under the policy, having twins or triplets would still count as ‘one’ legal birth).
When placed into a larger perspective, it is apparent that Chinese women have indeed made advantages towards more gender equality within China as a by-product of the One-Child Policy, but that this advancement has come at a high price.
“Our reproduction rights are taken from us, step by step.”
On Weibo, the Feminist Webforum’s article received over 50,000 views and many comments shortly after it was posted. Many commenters seemed to share similar concerns as the Feminist Webforum, and praised the One Child Policy era while expressing their concerns over the Two Child Policy.
“The Two-Child Policy is the worst news I have heard in years,” one person writes.
“Now they enthusiastically promote for us to return home and have a second baby. Will they promote us to obey our fathers, husbands and sons, and to bind our feet hereafter?”, one commenter writes.
Another female netizen says: “Since the introduction of the ‘two child policy’, male-female relations have been more out of tune, the mortality rate of pregnant women has gone up, and the discrimination on the employment market has increased dramatically. Our reproduction rights are taken from us, step by step.”
Someone else writes: “The family planning policy was not bad, it had so many benefits (..). It was not only in line with the state of society, it also gave women the right to stop giving birth [to multiple children] and to give birth safely.”
But not all netizens agree that the role of women in Chinese society today is all owed to the One-Child Policy.
“It needs to be said that there are many ways to improve women’s status,” one person writes: “and the One-Child Policy is the most inhumane one, which has caused a lot of damage to women’s health. It was never intended to improve the status of women, and is just a by-product.”
Another woman writes: “All I can think of is that one colleague of my mum who was caught with a second (unapproved) pregnancy when she had a big belly of 7-8 months. She was forced to have an abortion.”
Many netizens refer to themselves as ‘the last generation of singleton daughters.’ They suggest that with China’s new family planning policies, there will always be couples having just one son, but if they have one daughter they will try hard to have a second child that is male: “This was the last era of the only daughters – every era is that of the only sons.”
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Catalyst. 2016. “Women In The Workforce: China.” Catalyst, July 8 http://www.catalyst.org/knowledge/women-workforce-china [5.2.17].
Credit Suisse. 2014. “Women in Senior Management.” Credit Suisse, September https://publications.credit-suisse.com/tasks/render/file/index.cfm?fileid=8128F3C0-99BC-22E6-838E2A5B1E4366DF [5.2.17].
Feminist WebForum [女权主义贴吧]. 2017. “独生子女政策对中国女性地位的三大贡献 [The One-Child Policy’s Three Major Contributions to Chinese Women’s Status].” Feminist Webforum / Weibo, February 4 http://www.weibo.com/ttarticle/p/show?id=2309404071219883321876#_rnd1486322999846 [5.2.17].
Nayak, Satyam. 2008. “An Overview of China’s One Child Policy and Health Consequences on Society.” Master of Public Health, The University of Texas School of Public Health.
Sudbeck, Kristine. 2012. “The Effects of China’s One-Child Policy: The Significance for Chinese Women.” Nebraska Anthropologist: Paper 179.
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Binging and Purging as Online Trend: From China’s “Big Stomach Stars” to “Vomit Bars”
China’s ‘Big Stomach Stars’ are all the rage – but is it really just harmless entertainment?
Unlike previous rising Chinese social media stars such as Papi Jiang, the 26-year-old Mimi from Chongqing did not become an online celebrity because of her comic skills or acting talent, nor for her singing voice or dance moves. Mimi Zhang became famous for eating 8 lb (4 kg) of rice in one sitting, during an eating challenge in 2016.
By now, Mimi is one of China’s most successful ‘Eating Broadcasting’ hosts. Also called ‘Big Stomach Star Eating Livestream’ (大胃王吃播) or ‘Livestream Eating Vlogging’ (吃播女博主) in China, it is an online video genre in which hosts will consume extremely large amounts of food.
In South Korea, it is known as the ‘mukbang‘ phenomenon, and the craze started there some years earlier, peaking in 2016. ‘Eating Broadcasting’ stars such as Kinoshita Yuka (video) and BJ The Diva (video) already had their moments of fame on the internet in South Korea, Japan, and beyond, but the genre only recently has become a real hype on Chinese social media.
Binging on Camera
Looking at the number of views and subscribers from YouTube to Twitch, or on platforms such as Kuaishou or Douyin, the ‘Eating Broadcasting’ genre obviously has millions of fans worldwide.
This online movement is innocuous in many ways. According to experts, people enjoy watching others eat because they feel a social connection, or want to stimulate their own appetite – it is one of the reasons why the craze is also dubbed ‘social eating.’
For many, the genre is simply entertaining; hosts often eat unconventional dishes, they are descriptive with taste, play around with their expressions, take on challenges, talk, and make funny sounds while eating.
But what if ‘social eating’ becomes ‘binge eating’? How harmless is the genre if it shows skinny women eating excessive amounts of food, inadvertently promoting unhealthy eating habits and unrealistic standards?
Along with Mimi Zhang, ‘Big Stomach Mini'(@大胃mini) is one other among many Chinese livestreamers that has achieved online stardom by eating large amounts of food. The 24-year-old reportedly is 1,70 m. tall and only weights 47 kilograms (103lbs), yet recently managed to eat a staggering 17 kg (35 pounds) of meat (video).
More and more, netizens are starting to connect these live-streamers to a habit of purging. Ongoing rumors suggest a supposed connection between binge streaming and vomiting.
Recently, various accounts claimed that Mimi Zhang used to have an account (using the name ‘Little Mi 360’ 小密360) on an online forum where people, mainly women, encourage each other to binge and purge.
China’s “Vomit Bar” (催吐吧) Community
China’s so-called “Vomit Bars” (催吐吧), online forums focused on binging and purging, have formed a hidden community on Chinese internet for years.
The phenomenon already came to light in 2012, and started to receive news media attention within China in 2015 and 2016. Most of the bigger online forums got shut down in 2017, however, after rumors circulated that a member of a ‘Vomit Bar’ had reached such a low weight that her organs failed and she passed away.
Nevertheless, the online community consists of thousands of people, mainly women aged 14-40. A previously well-known forum on Baidu (now shutdown) had around 50,000 members called ‘rabbits’ (兔子) and over 5,5 million posts.
Since then, there are still some scattered forums, and a special Android app called ‘Meet Like Rabbits’ (相识于吐), where users can share their experiences and tips on message boards. On WeChat’s group chats, members of the community have more freedom to talk in private with less risk of being shut down.
Members of the online ‘purging community’ are called ‘rabbits’ since the Chinese word for rabbit, tuzi (兔子), sounds similar to the word for ‘purging’ (tu 吐), and also because they eat all day, just like rabbits.
The main goal of these online forums is to share tips and tricks on how to lose weight by purging, while still binging on food. People also post photos of their binges or body, and share their hopes and fears in losing weight. “The way it is now, I could maintain a weight of around 46 kilograms,” one ‘rabbit’ writes: “I think it’s fat. My heart is filled with panic. I can only vomit.”
Newcomers ask others about best ways to vomit, and some people who say they’ve been binging and purging for years share experiences about their painful stomach and tooth decay.
Doctor Ma Yongchun (马永春) from Zhejiang Tongde Hospital since long has been warning people that these kind of online forums are harmful. She told iFeng news that the so-called ‘rabbits’ get caught up in a vicious cycle of binging and purging, and in doing so are developing serious eating disorders that can become life-threatening.
Eating Disorders in China
The Chinese ‘rabbit’ community could perhaps be compared to the Western ‘pro-ana‘ phenomenon, an online movement where people promote the behavior related to the eating disorder anorexia nervosa.
But there is one major difference; the ‘pro-ana’ community is connected to the term ‘anorexia’, suggesting that users of such forums are somewhat aware their behaviors are a sign of an actual eating disorder.
In these Chinese online communities, however, there seems to be a lesser acknowledgment that the cycle of binging and purging is one that belongs in the realm of a psychological disorder. Although people do complain that they feel they can no longer stop their irregular eating pattern, they talk more about their stomach aches and ulcers than they actually talk about suffering from an eating disorder.
This perhaps relates to the fact that there is little general awareness about eating disorders (ED) in China. Although there are no official statistics on the occurrence of bulimia, anorexia, or other ED in China, previous studies have found levels similar to Western countries (Tong et al 2014).
What various studies over the past years have also established is that there are major differences between Western countries and China in how eating disorders manifest themselves, suggesting they are not culture-bound but culture-reactive (Getz 2014, 749; Pike & Dunne 2015).
Because EDs are (1) traditionally conceptualized as a “Western mental health issue,” because (2) there is a social stigma attached to mental health issues in general in Chinese society, because (3) there is little general awareness on EDs, because (4) there is a lack in Chinese healthcare facilities specialized in EDs, and because of (5) various cultural factors (e.g. a very strong food culture), Chinese patients are more prone to talk about their problems in the form of somatic symptoms such as an extreme (dis)taste for food or abdominal problems, than in the form of a psychological problem (Getz 2014, 746-750).
Recently, Chinese media slowly seem to be promoting more awareness on eating disorders. The American video “I became Anorexic for Instagram” has gone viral on Chinese social media over the past month, as it was posted by various state media channels on Weibo.
Among thousands of reactions, many said: “It seems that this kind of disease doesn’t occur much in China – we have too many tasty food!” Others said: “I want to lose weight too – I want an eating disorder like this!”
But there are also more and more people who are tying the rise of China’s online unhealthy eating trends to more serious issues. “These girls who eat so much [on camera] do not just have big stomachs, they actually puke in order to eat so much. I don’t find it entertaining to watch them anymore,” one netizen (@有兔劳劳) says.
“I now find it sad to watch these ‘big stomach stars’ (大胃王),” another person says: “They definitely vomit – it’s impossible for one person’s stomach to hold so much food.”
“What’s up with all these ‘big stomach stars’ recently? It’s not something they were born with, or something they were trained in doing; they are like those ‘rabbits’ and it is a disease, it’s bulimic. I don’t want to support them anymore by watching how they harm themselves,” another commenter writes.
Meanwhile, China’s binge-eating online stars seem to be unaffected by the online rumors that connect them to unhealthy trends and eating disorders.
For some commenters, there is no issue at all: “She just has a great appetite.”
Are you suffering from an eating disorder and need help? For information on eating disorders and how to help if you are worried about someone, Beat (UK) or ANAD (US) has advice for sufferers, friends and family.
References (online references linked to in text)
Getz, M.J. 2014. “The Myth of Chinese Barbies: Eating Disorders in China including Hong Kong.” Journal of Psychiatric and Mental Health Nursing 21: 746-754.
Pike, Kathleen M., and Patricia E. Dunne. 2015. “The Rise of Eating Disorders in Asia: a Review.” Journal of Eating Disorders 3:33. Available online https://jeatdisord.biomedcentral.com/articles/10.1186/s40337-015-0070-2 [17.1.18].
Tong, J., Miao, S., Wang, J. et al. 2014. “A Two-stage Epidemiologic Study on Prevalence of Eating Disorders in Female University Students in Wuhan, China.” Social Psychiatry and Psychiatric Epidemiology 49(3): 499-505.
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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.
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.
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.
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.
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’.
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:
With contribution from Jessica Sun at Chinatalk.
Hauben, Michael and Ronda Hauben. 1997. Netizens: On the History and Impact of Usenet and the Internet. Computer Society Press: Los Alamitos, CA.
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