An editorial in the Taipei Times (“Use Chinese apps with care,” May 30, page 8) warned of the growing threat posed by Chinese platforms such as TikTok and Xiaohongshu (RedNote). These are not just entertainment apps. They are tools of influence, embedded in China’s cognitive warfare — aimed at reshaping the perceptions, attitudes and ultimately, the allegiance of Taiwanese, especially its youth.
Chinese academic Zhang Weiwei (張維為) recently said that once Taiwan is “unified,” it would be easier to govern than Hong Kong, because of young Taiwanese’s fondness for Chinese social media. Taiwanese youth are not as naive as Zhang implies, but dismissing this as bluster would be a grave mistake. These platforms already shape what millions of Taiwanese see, share and believe. As China escalates its military threats, it is also stepping up its psychological operations — disinformation, soft persuasion and narrative control — delivered through apps many still consider harmless.
To its credit, Taiwan has not been idle. It has banned these apps from public-sector devices, introduced draft laws to regulate digital intermediaries and made media literacy part of school curricula. Most recently, it inaugurated the Cognitive Warfare Research Center to monitor and analyze foreign disinformation. However, these actions must go further. Taiwan needs to address the structural vulnerabilities beneath the surface.
Here is what that requires:
First, the government needs to create a legal framework to regulate foreign platforms. Chinese platforms operate in Taiwan with zero legal accountability. TikTok and Xiaohongshu, while used by millions, have no registered subsidiaries here. The law prohibits Chinese firms from establishing local branches — a rule meant to block direct Chinese Communist Party influence. However, in practice, it backfires: These companies operate in a legal void, shaping public discourse without oversight, taxation or consequences. Access to the Taiwanese market must come with responsibilities and consequences.
Taiwan faces a false choice: ban them outright or let them operate freely. A smarter approach is to allow conditional legal presence under strict, enforceable national security terms: Platforms with more than 300,000 users must register as a local legal entity. They must appoint a representative accountable under Taiwanese law. Data must be stored locally and algorithms must be auditable. Ad sponsors must be transparent. Hostile content must be flagged, throttled or removed. Those who contravene would lose registration and face service throttling or geoblocking.
Second, the government should establish a civic-facing cognitive warfare watch center. The Cognitive Warfare Research Center is enforcement-oriented. What is missing is a transparent, public-facing counterpart that empowers citizens — not just bureaucrats — to understand and resist foreign influence.
The center would track and publicly report on foreign disinformation campaigns, issue real-time alerts, partner with educators, tech platforms and civil society to promote media literacy and coordinate responses to online influence operations, and act as a civic firewall against hostile narratives. If we sound alarms when Chinese jets cross the median line, we should do the same when Chinese disinformation floods our screens.
Third, it should treat media literacy as part of national defense. The media literacy curriculum is a good start, but too general. It teaches students to ask: “Is this credible?” but not: “What are the risks if everyone believes this?” Despite China being designated a hostile foreign force, the threat it poses is rarely addressed by name.
Taiwan needs a dual-track strategy: One for all students — teaching bias detection, critical thinking and national risk analysis; and another for older students, civil servants and educators — focused on real-world Chinese disinformation and manipulation tactics. This should be backed by a Media Resilience Certification to ensure that the courses are taken seriously.
Still, some might ask: Are these measures really necessary? Are these apps not just for fun? Becoming numb to the risk is exactly the problem. Just ask: Can you post a video on TikTok or RedNote praising Taiwanese democracy and criticizing China’s dictatorship? No, you cannot. Why? Because those platforms follow the rules of a one-party state, and that censorship travels with them. That is what makes them political weapons, not just a social media platform, and in this battle, Taiwanese are being fired at, not allowed to fire back.
Taiwan is on the front line of authoritarian information warfare. China does not need to send soldiers if it can convince Taiwanese that resistance is futile, unification inevitable and democracy overrated. That battle is already underway — on phones, not battlefields. Taiwan could lose this war without shedding a drop of blood.
John Cheng is a retired businessman from Hong Kong currently residing in Taiwan.
When US budget carrier Southwest Airlines last week announced a new partnership with China Airlines, Southwest’s social media were filled with comments from travelers excited by the new opportunity to visit China. Of course, China Airlines is not based in China, but in Taiwan, and the new partnership connects Taiwan Taoyuan International Airport with 30 cities across the US. At a time when China is increasing efforts on all fronts to falsely label Taiwan as “China” in all arenas, Taiwan does itself no favors by having its flagship carrier named China Airlines. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs is eager to jump at
The muting of the line “I’m from Taiwan” (我台灣來欸), sung in Hoklo (commonly known as Taiwanese), during a performance at the closing ceremony of the World Masters Games in New Taipei City on May 31 has sparked a public outcry. The lyric from the well-known song All Eyes on Me (世界都看見) — originally written and performed by Taiwanese hip-hop group Nine One One (玖壹壹) — was muted twice, while the subtitles on the screen showed an alternate line, “we come here together” (阮作伙來欸), which was not sung. The song, performed at the ceremony by a cheerleading group, was the theme
Secretary of State Marco Rubio raised eyebrows recently when he declared the era of American unipolarity over. He described America’s unrivaled dominance of the international system as an anomaly that was created by the collapse of the Soviet Union at the end of the Cold War. Now, he observed, the United States was returning to a more multipolar world where there are great powers in different parts of the planet. He pointed to China and Russia, as well as “rogue states like Iran and North Korea” as examples of countries the United States must contend with. This all begs the question:
In China, competition is fierce, and in many cases suppliers do not get paid on time. Rather than improving, the situation appears to be deteriorating. BYD Co, the world’s largest electric vehicle manufacturer by production volume, has gained notoriety for its harsh treatment of suppliers, raising concerns about the long-term sustainability. The case also highlights the decline of China’s business environment, and the growing risk of a cascading wave of corporate failures. BYD generally does not follow China’s Negotiable Instruments Law when settling payments with suppliers. Instead the company has created its own proprietary supply chain finance system called the “D-chain,” through which
RSS