On the Chinese Internet, the country’s current predicament — slowing economic growth, a falling birthrate, a meager social safety net, increasing isolation on the world stage — is often expressed through buzzwords. There is tangping, or “lying flat,” a term used to describe the young generation of Chinese who are choosing to chill out rather than hustle in China’s high-pressure economy. There is runxue, or “run philosophy,” which refers to the determination of large numbers of people to emigrate. Recently, “revenge against society” attacks — random incidents of violence that have claimed dozens of lives — have sparked particular concern. And there is also neijuan (內卷), or “involution,” a term used to describe the feeling of diminishing returns in China’s social contract.
WHAT IS NEIJUAN?
Neijuan is the Chinese term for “involution,” a concept from sociology that refers to a society that can no longer evolve, no matter how hard it tries. Applied to the individual, it means that no matter how hard someone works, progress is impossible.
Photo: AP
In China, the term has been used to describe the feeling of diminishing returns in China’s economy. The characters nei and juan literally mean rolling inwards. After decades of rapid growth, many Chinese millennials and Gen Z people feel that the opportunities that were available to their parents no longer exist, and that working hard no longer offers guaranteed rewards.
WHY ARE CHINESE LEADERS WORRIED?
China’s leaders have made it clear that they don’t want the idea of neijuan to catch on more than it already has. Top economic policymakers gathered this month for the annual Central Economic Work Conference, which sets the national economic agenda. According to the readout of the closed-door meeting, the cadres pledged to “rectify ‘involutionary’ competition.” And speaking at Davos in June, China’s premier, Li Qiang (李強), warned against “spiraling ‘involution’” in the world economy.
WHO IS AFFECTED?
It’s primarily a concept among millennials and generation Z. The latter group has been hit hard by China’s economic difficulties. Youth unemployment hit a record 21.3 percent in June last year, after which the government stopped publishing the data. It has since resumed publishing the statistics with a revised methodology. The latest data shows that the jobless rate for urban 16-24-year-olds is 17.1 percent.
Neijuan is also increasingly used to describe certain industries. China is investing massively in what it calls “new quality productive forces,” which means focusing more on research and manufacturing in certain hi-tech sectors, such as solar, electric vehicles and batteries. But overproduction, coupled with sanctions from the US and other western markets, has led to a price war in some sectors, hurting their profitability.
WHAT ARE ITS ORIGINS?
Although the term has been around for decades in academic circles, it went viral on China’s Internet in 2020. A student from Tsinghua University, one of China’s most elite schools, was filmed riding his bicycle with his laptop open, propped up on the handlebars. Soon he was crowned as “Tsinghua’s involuted king,” and a meme was born.
The meme of the involuted king came to represent the perhaps pointlessly intense pressure of China’s rat race, and the impossibility of catching a break. During the COVID-19 pandemic, many people felt physically as well as economically trapped.
The term was particularly popular in China’s hyper-competitive tech industry. Despite a workforce that is more educated than any previous generation, many graduates have found it difficult to find jobs in profitable sectors. This became even more of a problem when the Chinese government announced its “double reduction” policy in 2021. Designed to ease the pressure on school students, the policy banned for-profit online and offline tutoring, torpedoing a sector that had previously been a major employer of young graduates. One study suggested that 10 million people lost their jobs as a result of the policy.
By 1971, heroin and opium use among US troops fighting in Vietnam had reached epidemic proportions, with 42 percent of American servicemen saying they’d tried opioids at least once and around 20 percent claiming some level of addiction, according to the US Department of Defense. Though heroin use by US troops has been little discussed in the context of Taiwan, these and other drugs — produced in part by rogue Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) armies then in Thailand and Myanmar — also spread to US military bases on the island, where soldiers were often stoned or high. American military policeman
Under pressure, President William Lai (賴清德) has enacted his first cabinet reshuffle. Whether it will be enough to staunch the bleeding remains to be seen. Cabinet members in the Executive Yuan almost always end up as sacrificial lambs, especially those appointed early in a president’s term. When presidents are under pressure, the cabinet is reshuffled. This is not unique to any party or president; this is the custom. This is the case in many democracies, especially parliamentary ones. In Taiwan, constitutionally the president presides over the heads of the five branches of government, each of which is confusingly translated as “president”
An attempt to promote friendship between Japan and countries in Africa has transformed into a xenophobic row about migration after inaccurate media reports suggested the scheme would lead to a “flood of immigrants.” The controversy erupted after the Japan International Cooperation Agency, or JICA, said this month it had designated four Japanese cities as “Africa hometowns” for partner countries in Africa: Mozambique, Nigeria, Ghana and Tanzania. The program, announced at the end of an international conference on African development in Yokohama, will involve personnel exchanges and events to foster closer ties between the four regional Japanese cities — Imabari, Kisarazu, Sanjo and
Sept. 1 to Sept. 7 In 1899, Kozaburo Hirai became the first documented Japanese to wed a Taiwanese under colonial rule. The soldier was partly motivated by the government’s policy of assimilating the Taiwanese population through intermarriage. While his friends and family disapproved and even mocked him, the marriage endured. By 1930, when his story appeared in Tales of Virtuous Deeds in Taiwan, Hirai had settled in his wife’s rural Changhua hometown, farming the land and integrating into local society. Similarly, Aiko Fujii, who married into the prominent Wufeng Lin Family (霧峰林家) in 1927, quickly learned Hoklo (commonly known as Taiwanese) and
RSS