“Realpolitik instead of moral politics” was his credo, said German politician Markus Soeder in defense of his widely criticized China trip in late March. China expert Eberhard Sandschneider sees such visits primarily as an attempt to gain some domestic political points. “Of course, it was also a nod to the current Foreign Minister,” he explains in an interview with Felix Lee. The message: shaking hands, kissing pandas and signing deals is more promising than Baerbock’s raised finger.
Scholz’s upcoming trip also needs to be seen in this light, says Sandschneider. The Chancellor wants to score as many points as possible, for example, on the question of how to end the war in Ukraine. Sandschneider recommends “a sensible realpolitik” that allows the Chinese to save face and protect their interests. However, this also means not glorifying the USA or condemning China too much.
Livestreaming is a popular form of entertainment in many countries. But in no other country is it as popular as in China. However, many influencers often find it very tiring to regularly stand in front of the camera for hours on end, promoting cosmetic products, for example. Artificial intelligence is supposed to make their work easier – and cheaper for clients. Thousands of deepfake avatars are already in use in China. Now, they could become an export hit.
Mr Sandschneider, nice pictures with cuddly panda bears, reception by the Premier, an honorary doctorate – did Bavaria’s Minister-President Markus Soeder allow himself to be lulled too much by China during his visit two weeks ago?
The images are clear: The Bavarian Minister-President clearly enjoyed his trip to the big stage of world politics. And China offered him this stage: Bavaria on an equal footing with the Middle Kingdom? Oh, well! When German prime ministers travel, it’s not just about political talks but also about images for the people back home. And Soeder certainly had a nice trip.
Soeder says that he also addressed critical issues. However, his credo was: “Realpolitik instead of moral politics” – and this phrase earned him a lot of criticism at home.
Of course, it is impossible to verify what he actually said and how critical he was. However, we know from experience that it is part of the ritual of German politicians to address certain controversial topics during their visits to China: Human rights are one of them, and in recent years also the oppression of the Uyghurs in Xinjiang. No politician can afford to return home and say: Nope, had better things to talk about. The buzzword Realpolitik instead of Moralpolitik is, of course, also a nod to Germany’s current Foreign Minister. Soeder certainly wanted to score a domestic political point: I do things differently than Baerbock. And this is where his interests coincided with those of his Chinese hosts: The “real politician” Soeder is courted, and the “moral politician” Baerbock is shunned.
Isn’t it reckless to mix the complicated relationship with China, especially for us Germans, with domestic political ambitions?
Reckless, maybe, but certainly common. And if Soeder were the only one, people would perhaps be more critical of him. But everyone is actually doing it. When Agnes-Marie Strack-Zimmermann from the FDP (Free Democratic Party), the Chairwoman of the Defense Committee, travels to Taiwan, it also has domestic political implications. And even if Baerbock gives a pro-human rights speech in Beijing, she does so primarily with the Green Party base in mind, from which she can be certain of receiving applause. She, too, should actually know that she will achieve nothing in the country itself with such moralizing statements. China will not allow itself to be influenced from outside in this way, let alone in a critical and lecturing tone.
Is it not hypocrisy for SPD foreign policy expert Michael Roth to attack Soeder so harshly? Many German politicians have endured embellishing appearances in China in the past, and more are expected to visit China in the coming weeks.
As Chairman of the Committee on Foreign Affairs, Mr. Roth obviously feels obliged to criticize a Minister-President from another political party if he does things that are not entirely compatible with current government policy. But we should not exaggerate this. Roth’s statement about Soeder’s trip being a resounding failure is nonsense.
Will Chancellor Scholz’s trip in mid-April be so much different?
Of course not. On his first trip to China in November 2022, the Chancellor perfectly knew how to present Xi Jinping’s statement on the futility of nuclear war as a foreign policy win. He now wants to achieve something similar regarding the war in Ukraine. At the same time, we should not lose sight of the fact that our Chinese friends are also keeping a very close eye on the situation in Germany. And they know how important Germany is to EU policy. If they offer Mr. Soeder such an appearance because he wants to clearly distinguish himself from Mrs Baerbock’s China policy, then that is also in China’s interest. They receive the Bavarian Minister-President, they receive the German Chancellor. But the Foreign Minister is obviously struggling to get a new appointment in Beijing.
Nevertheless, it is quite obvious that China is currently very charming towards Germany in particular – not least because Beijing’s relationship with Washington is very poor. How should the Chancellor respond to this divisive Chinese policy?
Every government tries to use geopolitical constellations to its own advantage. China is no different. In my opinion, Europe’s view of China should be just as critical as that of the United States these days. And that is the big challenge for European politics: We must manage to rebalance superpower relations. We currently tend to romanticize the United States out of concern about the return of Donald Trump, while we view China too negatively as a rising superpower. We Europeans are somewhere between a rock and a hard place and are feeling the growing pressure from the United States and the growing competition with China, not only politically but also economically. A promising realpolitik would have to find a pragmatic way of dealing with both sides.
Not long ago, China treated even German diplomats extremely unfriendly in its aggressive wolf-warrior diplomacy. Now, all of a sudden, this charm offensive. Should we really be getting into this back and forth?
I’m not sure if there’s really any strategizing behind it. Since the end of the pandemic, Chinese travel diplomacy has been much more intensive than German diplomacy. China is making efforts to improve contacts at all levels. German policy is much more hesitant and stresses that anyone who gets too close to China will get burned. In contrast, the Chinese side adopts the much-vaunted pragmatism. But not everything China does is right. But the Chinese are learning from their mistakes. President Xi Jinping documented this in a speech. Unleashing wolf warriors on diplomats from other countries obviously backfired. Those who treat other countries amicably, on the other hand, also receive more goodwill. So Beijing has called off its wolf warriors.
Do you think the charm is genuine?
The charm is genuine because China has realized that pressure alone will hinder it from achieving its interests. The bottom line is that there are many common interests with the Europeans, in particular, beyond the contentious issues that are always on the agenda at the moment. If we think about economic and technological cooperation, climate change, but also war and peace – if we expect more action from China towards Russia, for example, it makes no sense to constantly bash Chinese policy.
Will China get more involved in the Russia-Ukraine war?
Symbolically, at most, not really in substance. You have to realize that China is divided on this issue. China has no interest in Russia losing. That would strengthen the position of the West too much – to China’s disadvantage. On the other hand, the leadership in Beijing also has no interest in this war escalating. China would also feel the global economic effects. And the country has more than enough economic problems right now.
What do you think Scholz will achieve in Beijing this time?
Scholz will continue his pragmatic approach. He will focus on Russia-Ukraine and economic problems. Above all, Scholz wants to re-establish dialogue with the Chinese leadership. The pandemic has had some negative political repercussions. The fact that the governments could only talk to each other via video conference for a long time resulted in the atrophy of interpersonal relationships, which are very important at the top level. In any case, rectifying this is also an important reason for this trip.
Will Germany’s China strategy, which the coalition government agreed on last year, play a role in Scholz’s trip?
No, strategy papers are only for discussion purposes. That should certainly not be underestimated. The best thing that has been achieved is that all federal ministries have had a truly constructive dialogue about China for the first time. But as soon as a strategy paper has been adopted, the rule is: print it out, read it once, and put it in the drawer.
Eberhard Sandschneider is an East Asian expert and teaches at the Free University of Berlin. Until 2016, he was Director of the Research Institute of the German Council on Foreign Relations (DGAP), and until 2017, he was a member of the Advisory Board of the Federal Academy for Security Policy. He is also a partner of the consulting institute Berlin Global Advisors.
Livestreaming has permeated China’s society. According to the state-run China Netcasting Services Association (CNSA), around 15 million professional influencers go online every day on Chinese platforms such as Douyin or Kuaishou. In front of an average audience of around 700 million viewers, they share their lives, dance, work out, let people watch them eat or play video games – and encourage them to spend money.
A CNSA survey found that two out of five Chinese internet users now consider short videos and live streams to be their “primary consumption channel.” According to data from the Ministry of Commerce, livestreaming e-commerce accounted for almost a fifth of total online purchases in the People’s Republic in 2023. Sales increased by nearly 60 percent in the first ten months compared to the same period in 2022, reaching the equivalent of around 304 billion US dollars.
Thanks to popular role models such as Li Jiaqi and Viya, the job of livestreaming influencers promises pop star fame in China. A survey of 10,000 young people on Weibo revealed that more than 60 percent would be interested in working as an influencer or livestreamer. Special academies have now specialized in training them. They teach the craft of moderating and selling and how best to technically stage videos.
The industry places high demands on its talent. How to be online around the clock? How to sell the maximum amount of products as cheaply as possible and in the shortest possible time? For many, livestreaming is above all a back-breaking job on the verge of burnout. Many companies also groan: the better known an influencer is, the more sales commission they have to pay. This is another reason why the industry is increasingly focussing on artificial intelligence.
Companies like Xiaoice (Chinese: 微软小冰) offer deepfake avatars that do the job with little effort. All it takes is submitting a sample video, from which a clone is then created. The cost: around 1,000 euros. At first glance, the difference is barely noticeable. Only on closer inspection do the lip movements sometimes not match the sound and the movements appear robotic. The off-the-shelf avatars can only carry out the simplest of activities during their product presentation, they cannot change clothes, lie down or interact realistically with each other. But the technology is getting better and better. Thanks to translation tools from companies such as Silicon Intelligence (硅基智能) from Nanjing, avatars can also interact simultaneously in several languages. An opportunity for Chinese providers to conquer foreign markets beyond their borders where livestreaming ecosystems do not yet exist.
“Many of our customers are interested in cross-border e-commerce in Southeast Asia. The demand is very high,” says Huang Wei, Head of Virtual Influencer Business at Xiaoice, in an interview with MIT Technology Review magazine. Traditional e-commerce websites look like a “shelf of goods” to most customers, says Huang. Livestreaming creates a stronger emotional connection between the host and the viewers, which in turn boosts sales. This makes livestreaming significantly cheaper for companies. Even the scripts and lines are now often written with AI tools.
Thousands of AI avatars are already being used in China. Tech giants such as Alibaba, Tencent, Baidu and JD have also launched programs to create their own AI streamers. For example, Taobao, China’s largest digital retail platform, introduced an AI-controlled chatbot last September that helps online shoppers with their purchases.
The People’s Republic has also been experimenting with AI-generated news anchors and virtual mannequins for a while now. Some projects still sound like science fiction but are starting to take shape: digital life partners, resurrected dead, and digital doppelgangers for online conferences. According to an analysis by the Indian market research company Vision Research Reports, the global market for digital avatars could reach a value of over 682 billion dollars by 2032.
Although Samsung and Microsoft also offer more or less photorealistic avatars, it doesn’t seem as if the technology will soon be introduced on a comparable scale. On the one hand, this is due to the risks associated with deepfake technology in the West: Realistic avatars can facilitate fake news, revenge pornography, scams and defamation.
Those who fear completely exposing themselves to the public will probably not be willing to throw their visual identity into a tech company’s AI pool. On the other hand, live-streaming, social media, and e-commerce do not go hand in hand in the West as they do in China. Neither Meta nor Amazon has yet been able to successfully launch their own live shopping channels.
While the Chinese industry recruits AI clones with open arms, the government is certainly aware of the potential risks. Last year, the Chinese government published draft guidelines for companies that offer and use generative AI technology. For example, the proposed regulations state that people who are to be cloned using AI must give their written consent. AI content must also be labeled as such for the public.
However, broader regulations are needed to adapt to developments. With ever-increasing bandwidths, it could soon be possible to reproduce not just people but entire scenarios realistically. In his latest book, which gives an outlook on the year 2041, AI expert Kai-Fu Lee writes that programs identifying deepfakes will soon be as normal as antivirus software.
Last month, a photo of Jackie Chan went viral on China’s social media channels. Netizens commented on the picture, which was taken at an event in Sichuan province, that the actor had aged shockingly. The once so vital action hero is only human, users who grew up with his films wrote. Jackie Chan celebrates his 70th birthday today. His imperturbable smile in the photo dispels the worries of his fans. In an interview with Harper’s Bazaar magazine in January, he said he still had a lot planned. At least ten more films are in the pipeline, including the fourth installment of the unstoppable “Karate Kid” series.
Like Bruce Lee, Chan brought Far Eastern martial arts to an international audience. He is a cultural icon in China. He has influenced memes and internet slang, celebrated success as a pop singer, and dedicated himself to charity and anti-drug campaigns. A museum in Shanghai is dedicated to his life’s work. The relationship with his (illegitimate) children Jaycee and Etta still dominates the gossip and commentary columns on platforms such as Weibo, where Chan is very active. In recent years, he has increasingly used his social media channels to bid farewell to old companions such as Coco Lee and Kenneth Tsang. This is probably why fans anxiously count every new gray hair on his head.
Jackie Chan was born as Chen Gangsheng 陳港生 in Hong Kong in 1957. During the 1930s, his parents fled to Hong Kong from the turmoil of the Chinese Civil War. In the British colony, they earned their living as maids and cooks for the elite. As a young man, Jackie Chan studied acrobatics, martial arts and acting at the China Drama Academy. He initially experienced the martial arts boom of the Hong Kong film industry in the 1970s in supporting roles in the shadow of his idol Bruce Lee. However, he persistently fought his way more and more into the limelight, which also had to do with his breakneck stunts, which he generally refused to be doubled for. In the 1980s, Chan perfected his own style, a mixture of slapstick and well-choreographed fight scenes in films like “Drunken Master,” which were also successful and influential in the important Japanese film market.
After several attempts, he finally made his breakthrough in the West in 1998 with “Rush Hour.” The slapstick buddy cop comedy is considered a cult film. The culture clash depicted in the film between a Chinese and an American policeman is full of clichés bordering on the painful. But this is precisely why the film is said to be a paragon of the culturally stifled political correctness of the present day: Back then, people didn’t take themselves so seriously. Curiosity about another culture sometimes expressed itself in provocative jokes. In “Rush Hour,” these were ultimately mutual: Chan’s character, Detective Lee, poked fun at the Americans just as much as Detective Carter, played by Chris Tucker, did at the Chinese. In the end, both characters join forces and fight side by side against evil in the world. An example for American-Chinese relations?
Beyond the big screen, Jackie Chan’s suitability as a cultural ambassador is limited. Between 2013 and 2023, he served as a member of the Political Consultative Conference and, in this capacity, advised the National People’s Congress on the still highly censored areas of “art and literature.” Chan never became an official party member, although he had publicly expressed his interest on several occasions. His lifestyle in the 1980s and 1990s, marked by “alcohol, gambling and prostitutes,” may have been a reason why Beijing regularly invited him to TV galas and other propaganda events as a guest of honor but not to accept him into its own ranks.
In his home city of Hong Kong, Chan has alienated many. Speaking on Chinese state broadcaster CGTN, he called the protests in 2019 “sad and depressing.” He said that young people realize that “security, stability and peace” are as important as fresh air only when they have lost them. Yet Chan was once a supporter of the protesters on Tiananmen Square in 1989 when he was trying to tap into the booming Western home video market.
Chan was always where he thought he had the best chances. And after the Olympic Games, where he served as a torchbearer in 2008, that was the People’s Republic. “I have visited many countries and I can say that our country has developed rapidly in recent years. I am proud to be Chinese wherever I go, and the ‘Red Five-Star Flag’ is respected all over the world,” he said in 2019.
Chan celebrated his 60th birthday ten years ago with a big party that lasted five days. A Chinese newspaper wrote at the time that more stars attended than the annual Spring Festival gala on CCTV. This year, the star is apparently celebrating the milestone anniversary in a smaller circle. Even national heroes become older. Fabian Peltsch
And how are your brain circuits wired? Are all your synapses hopelessly tuned to romance? Have matters of the heart gone so to your head that most of your thoughts revolve around your loved one?
Dissected with the linguistic scalpel of Mandarin, China’s online community comes to the razor-sharp conclusion in such cases: you have (and are) a 恋爱脑 liàn’àinǎo – a “lovebrain” (from 恋爱 liàn’ài “to love; love” + 脑 nǎo “brain”). In other words, a hopeless romantic or blind with love. We know them in the West too: total relationship persons for whom their sweetheart always and only comes first.
Of course, there are other types of thinking organs between human temples, such as working brains (工作脑 gōngzuònǎo) or career brains (事业脑 shìyènǎo). If your grey matter is ticking like this, your job and promotion are the only things on your mind.
And those who put their buddies and besties above everything else most likely have a friendship brain (友情脑 yǒuqíngnǎo) under their skullcap. And those who only ever have “the one thing” on their minds when socializing are classified as 性缘脑 xìngyuánnǎo (from 性 xìng “sex, sexual” + 缘 yuán “reason, intention”). A somewhat obscure euphemism for sexaholics.
If you want to change your romantic mind, it’s a good idea to train your brain with a few more Chinese words about “grey matter.” You’ve no doubt already memorized the “electric brain” (电脑 diànnǎo) for “computer.” But perhaps there’s still a little room in your head, or rather in your melon (脑瓜 nǎoguā “brain melon” – colloquial for “head”), for the Chinese equivalent of “out of your mind.” In the Middle Kingdom, this is referred to as “water in the head” (脑子进水了 nǎozi jìnshuǐ le – quite literally: “water has seeped into the head”).
But be careful: linguistically, this has absolutely nothing to do with brainwashing. This can be practically directly translated from English into Mandarin as 洗脑 xǐnǎo “to wash the brain.”
Once again, it shows that looking at a foreign language can be quite inspiring. Or, as the Chinese would say, it opens the brain cavity (开脑洞 kāi nǎodòng “to inspire, to give amazing new food for thought”). So the next time you are looking for good ideas in the “ocean” between your ears (脑海 nǎohǎi – literally “brain sea,” figuratively “mind, thoughts”) or desperately wringing out your brain juices to solve complicated relationship issues (绞脑汁 jiǎo nǎozhī “to rack your brains”), why not simply decode some figurative Chinese words to relax and take your mind off things?
Sometimes, a bowl of “tofu brain” (豆腐脑 dòufunǎo) can also help against a creative blockade. Don’t worry. We are not talking about a culinary dare but a tasty (and completely brain-free) specialty made from tender, soft tofu, available in sweet and savory versions, depending on the region. In the end, perhaps love doesn’t just go to the head but also through the stomach.
Verena Menzel runs the online language school New Chinese in Beijing.
“Realpolitik instead of moral politics” was his credo, said German politician Markus Soeder in defense of his widely criticized China trip in late March. China expert Eberhard Sandschneider sees such visits primarily as an attempt to gain some domestic political points. “Of course, it was also a nod to the current Foreign Minister,” he explains in an interview with Felix Lee. The message: shaking hands, kissing pandas and signing deals is more promising than Baerbock’s raised finger.
Scholz’s upcoming trip also needs to be seen in this light, says Sandschneider. The Chancellor wants to score as many points as possible, for example, on the question of how to end the war in Ukraine. Sandschneider recommends “a sensible realpolitik” that allows the Chinese to save face and protect their interests. However, this also means not glorifying the USA or condemning China too much.
Livestreaming is a popular form of entertainment in many countries. But in no other country is it as popular as in China. However, many influencers often find it very tiring to regularly stand in front of the camera for hours on end, promoting cosmetic products, for example. Artificial intelligence is supposed to make their work easier – and cheaper for clients. Thousands of deepfake avatars are already in use in China. Now, they could become an export hit.
Mr Sandschneider, nice pictures with cuddly panda bears, reception by the Premier, an honorary doctorate – did Bavaria’s Minister-President Markus Soeder allow himself to be lulled too much by China during his visit two weeks ago?
The images are clear: The Bavarian Minister-President clearly enjoyed his trip to the big stage of world politics. And China offered him this stage: Bavaria on an equal footing with the Middle Kingdom? Oh, well! When German prime ministers travel, it’s not just about political talks but also about images for the people back home. And Soeder certainly had a nice trip.
Soeder says that he also addressed critical issues. However, his credo was: “Realpolitik instead of moral politics” – and this phrase earned him a lot of criticism at home.
Of course, it is impossible to verify what he actually said and how critical he was. However, we know from experience that it is part of the ritual of German politicians to address certain controversial topics during their visits to China: Human rights are one of them, and in recent years also the oppression of the Uyghurs in Xinjiang. No politician can afford to return home and say: Nope, had better things to talk about. The buzzword Realpolitik instead of Moralpolitik is, of course, also a nod to Germany’s current Foreign Minister. Soeder certainly wanted to score a domestic political point: I do things differently than Baerbock. And this is where his interests coincided with those of his Chinese hosts: The “real politician” Soeder is courted, and the “moral politician” Baerbock is shunned.
Isn’t it reckless to mix the complicated relationship with China, especially for us Germans, with domestic political ambitions?
Reckless, maybe, but certainly common. And if Soeder were the only one, people would perhaps be more critical of him. But everyone is actually doing it. When Agnes-Marie Strack-Zimmermann from the FDP (Free Democratic Party), the Chairwoman of the Defense Committee, travels to Taiwan, it also has domestic political implications. And even if Baerbock gives a pro-human rights speech in Beijing, she does so primarily with the Green Party base in mind, from which she can be certain of receiving applause. She, too, should actually know that she will achieve nothing in the country itself with such moralizing statements. China will not allow itself to be influenced from outside in this way, let alone in a critical and lecturing tone.
Is it not hypocrisy for SPD foreign policy expert Michael Roth to attack Soeder so harshly? Many German politicians have endured embellishing appearances in China in the past, and more are expected to visit China in the coming weeks.
As Chairman of the Committee on Foreign Affairs, Mr. Roth obviously feels obliged to criticize a Minister-President from another political party if he does things that are not entirely compatible with current government policy. But we should not exaggerate this. Roth’s statement about Soeder’s trip being a resounding failure is nonsense.
Will Chancellor Scholz’s trip in mid-April be so much different?
Of course not. On his first trip to China in November 2022, the Chancellor perfectly knew how to present Xi Jinping’s statement on the futility of nuclear war as a foreign policy win. He now wants to achieve something similar regarding the war in Ukraine. At the same time, we should not lose sight of the fact that our Chinese friends are also keeping a very close eye on the situation in Germany. And they know how important Germany is to EU policy. If they offer Mr. Soeder such an appearance because he wants to clearly distinguish himself from Mrs Baerbock’s China policy, then that is also in China’s interest. They receive the Bavarian Minister-President, they receive the German Chancellor. But the Foreign Minister is obviously struggling to get a new appointment in Beijing.
Nevertheless, it is quite obvious that China is currently very charming towards Germany in particular – not least because Beijing’s relationship with Washington is very poor. How should the Chancellor respond to this divisive Chinese policy?
Every government tries to use geopolitical constellations to its own advantage. China is no different. In my opinion, Europe’s view of China should be just as critical as that of the United States these days. And that is the big challenge for European politics: We must manage to rebalance superpower relations. We currently tend to romanticize the United States out of concern about the return of Donald Trump, while we view China too negatively as a rising superpower. We Europeans are somewhere between a rock and a hard place and are feeling the growing pressure from the United States and the growing competition with China, not only politically but also economically. A promising realpolitik would have to find a pragmatic way of dealing with both sides.
Not long ago, China treated even German diplomats extremely unfriendly in its aggressive wolf-warrior diplomacy. Now, all of a sudden, this charm offensive. Should we really be getting into this back and forth?
I’m not sure if there’s really any strategizing behind it. Since the end of the pandemic, Chinese travel diplomacy has been much more intensive than German diplomacy. China is making efforts to improve contacts at all levels. German policy is much more hesitant and stresses that anyone who gets too close to China will get burned. In contrast, the Chinese side adopts the much-vaunted pragmatism. But not everything China does is right. But the Chinese are learning from their mistakes. President Xi Jinping documented this in a speech. Unleashing wolf warriors on diplomats from other countries obviously backfired. Those who treat other countries amicably, on the other hand, also receive more goodwill. So Beijing has called off its wolf warriors.
Do you think the charm is genuine?
The charm is genuine because China has realized that pressure alone will hinder it from achieving its interests. The bottom line is that there are many common interests with the Europeans, in particular, beyond the contentious issues that are always on the agenda at the moment. If we think about economic and technological cooperation, climate change, but also war and peace – if we expect more action from China towards Russia, for example, it makes no sense to constantly bash Chinese policy.
Will China get more involved in the Russia-Ukraine war?
Symbolically, at most, not really in substance. You have to realize that China is divided on this issue. China has no interest in Russia losing. That would strengthen the position of the West too much – to China’s disadvantage. On the other hand, the leadership in Beijing also has no interest in this war escalating. China would also feel the global economic effects. And the country has more than enough economic problems right now.
What do you think Scholz will achieve in Beijing this time?
Scholz will continue his pragmatic approach. He will focus on Russia-Ukraine and economic problems. Above all, Scholz wants to re-establish dialogue with the Chinese leadership. The pandemic has had some negative political repercussions. The fact that the governments could only talk to each other via video conference for a long time resulted in the atrophy of interpersonal relationships, which are very important at the top level. In any case, rectifying this is also an important reason for this trip.
Will Germany’s China strategy, which the coalition government agreed on last year, play a role in Scholz’s trip?
No, strategy papers are only for discussion purposes. That should certainly not be underestimated. The best thing that has been achieved is that all federal ministries have had a truly constructive dialogue about China for the first time. But as soon as a strategy paper has been adopted, the rule is: print it out, read it once, and put it in the drawer.
Eberhard Sandschneider is an East Asian expert and teaches at the Free University of Berlin. Until 2016, he was Director of the Research Institute of the German Council on Foreign Relations (DGAP), and until 2017, he was a member of the Advisory Board of the Federal Academy for Security Policy. He is also a partner of the consulting institute Berlin Global Advisors.
Livestreaming has permeated China’s society. According to the state-run China Netcasting Services Association (CNSA), around 15 million professional influencers go online every day on Chinese platforms such as Douyin or Kuaishou. In front of an average audience of around 700 million viewers, they share their lives, dance, work out, let people watch them eat or play video games – and encourage them to spend money.
A CNSA survey found that two out of five Chinese internet users now consider short videos and live streams to be their “primary consumption channel.” According to data from the Ministry of Commerce, livestreaming e-commerce accounted for almost a fifth of total online purchases in the People’s Republic in 2023. Sales increased by nearly 60 percent in the first ten months compared to the same period in 2022, reaching the equivalent of around 304 billion US dollars.
Thanks to popular role models such as Li Jiaqi and Viya, the job of livestreaming influencers promises pop star fame in China. A survey of 10,000 young people on Weibo revealed that more than 60 percent would be interested in working as an influencer or livestreamer. Special academies have now specialized in training them. They teach the craft of moderating and selling and how best to technically stage videos.
The industry places high demands on its talent. How to be online around the clock? How to sell the maximum amount of products as cheaply as possible and in the shortest possible time? For many, livestreaming is above all a back-breaking job on the verge of burnout. Many companies also groan: the better known an influencer is, the more sales commission they have to pay. This is another reason why the industry is increasingly focussing on artificial intelligence.
Companies like Xiaoice (Chinese: 微软小冰) offer deepfake avatars that do the job with little effort. All it takes is submitting a sample video, from which a clone is then created. The cost: around 1,000 euros. At first glance, the difference is barely noticeable. Only on closer inspection do the lip movements sometimes not match the sound and the movements appear robotic. The off-the-shelf avatars can only carry out the simplest of activities during their product presentation, they cannot change clothes, lie down or interact realistically with each other. But the technology is getting better and better. Thanks to translation tools from companies such as Silicon Intelligence (硅基智能) from Nanjing, avatars can also interact simultaneously in several languages. An opportunity for Chinese providers to conquer foreign markets beyond their borders where livestreaming ecosystems do not yet exist.
“Many of our customers are interested in cross-border e-commerce in Southeast Asia. The demand is very high,” says Huang Wei, Head of Virtual Influencer Business at Xiaoice, in an interview with MIT Technology Review magazine. Traditional e-commerce websites look like a “shelf of goods” to most customers, says Huang. Livestreaming creates a stronger emotional connection between the host and the viewers, which in turn boosts sales. This makes livestreaming significantly cheaper for companies. Even the scripts and lines are now often written with AI tools.
Thousands of AI avatars are already being used in China. Tech giants such as Alibaba, Tencent, Baidu and JD have also launched programs to create their own AI streamers. For example, Taobao, China’s largest digital retail platform, introduced an AI-controlled chatbot last September that helps online shoppers with their purchases.
The People’s Republic has also been experimenting with AI-generated news anchors and virtual mannequins for a while now. Some projects still sound like science fiction but are starting to take shape: digital life partners, resurrected dead, and digital doppelgangers for online conferences. According to an analysis by the Indian market research company Vision Research Reports, the global market for digital avatars could reach a value of over 682 billion dollars by 2032.
Although Samsung and Microsoft also offer more or less photorealistic avatars, it doesn’t seem as if the technology will soon be introduced on a comparable scale. On the one hand, this is due to the risks associated with deepfake technology in the West: Realistic avatars can facilitate fake news, revenge pornography, scams and defamation.
Those who fear completely exposing themselves to the public will probably not be willing to throw their visual identity into a tech company’s AI pool. On the other hand, live-streaming, social media, and e-commerce do not go hand in hand in the West as they do in China. Neither Meta nor Amazon has yet been able to successfully launch their own live shopping channels.
While the Chinese industry recruits AI clones with open arms, the government is certainly aware of the potential risks. Last year, the Chinese government published draft guidelines for companies that offer and use generative AI technology. For example, the proposed regulations state that people who are to be cloned using AI must give their written consent. AI content must also be labeled as such for the public.
However, broader regulations are needed to adapt to developments. With ever-increasing bandwidths, it could soon be possible to reproduce not just people but entire scenarios realistically. In his latest book, which gives an outlook on the year 2041, AI expert Kai-Fu Lee writes that programs identifying deepfakes will soon be as normal as antivirus software.
Last month, a photo of Jackie Chan went viral on China’s social media channels. Netizens commented on the picture, which was taken at an event in Sichuan province, that the actor had aged shockingly. The once so vital action hero is only human, users who grew up with his films wrote. Jackie Chan celebrates his 70th birthday today. His imperturbable smile in the photo dispels the worries of his fans. In an interview with Harper’s Bazaar magazine in January, he said he still had a lot planned. At least ten more films are in the pipeline, including the fourth installment of the unstoppable “Karate Kid” series.
Like Bruce Lee, Chan brought Far Eastern martial arts to an international audience. He is a cultural icon in China. He has influenced memes and internet slang, celebrated success as a pop singer, and dedicated himself to charity and anti-drug campaigns. A museum in Shanghai is dedicated to his life’s work. The relationship with his (illegitimate) children Jaycee and Etta still dominates the gossip and commentary columns on platforms such as Weibo, where Chan is very active. In recent years, he has increasingly used his social media channels to bid farewell to old companions such as Coco Lee and Kenneth Tsang. This is probably why fans anxiously count every new gray hair on his head.
Jackie Chan was born as Chen Gangsheng 陳港生 in Hong Kong in 1957. During the 1930s, his parents fled to Hong Kong from the turmoil of the Chinese Civil War. In the British colony, they earned their living as maids and cooks for the elite. As a young man, Jackie Chan studied acrobatics, martial arts and acting at the China Drama Academy. He initially experienced the martial arts boom of the Hong Kong film industry in the 1970s in supporting roles in the shadow of his idol Bruce Lee. However, he persistently fought his way more and more into the limelight, which also had to do with his breakneck stunts, which he generally refused to be doubled for. In the 1980s, Chan perfected his own style, a mixture of slapstick and well-choreographed fight scenes in films like “Drunken Master,” which were also successful and influential in the important Japanese film market.
After several attempts, he finally made his breakthrough in the West in 1998 with “Rush Hour.” The slapstick buddy cop comedy is considered a cult film. The culture clash depicted in the film between a Chinese and an American policeman is full of clichés bordering on the painful. But this is precisely why the film is said to be a paragon of the culturally stifled political correctness of the present day: Back then, people didn’t take themselves so seriously. Curiosity about another culture sometimes expressed itself in provocative jokes. In “Rush Hour,” these were ultimately mutual: Chan’s character, Detective Lee, poked fun at the Americans just as much as Detective Carter, played by Chris Tucker, did at the Chinese. In the end, both characters join forces and fight side by side against evil in the world. An example for American-Chinese relations?
Beyond the big screen, Jackie Chan’s suitability as a cultural ambassador is limited. Between 2013 and 2023, he served as a member of the Political Consultative Conference and, in this capacity, advised the National People’s Congress on the still highly censored areas of “art and literature.” Chan never became an official party member, although he had publicly expressed his interest on several occasions. His lifestyle in the 1980s and 1990s, marked by “alcohol, gambling and prostitutes,” may have been a reason why Beijing regularly invited him to TV galas and other propaganda events as a guest of honor but not to accept him into its own ranks.
In his home city of Hong Kong, Chan has alienated many. Speaking on Chinese state broadcaster CGTN, he called the protests in 2019 “sad and depressing.” He said that young people realize that “security, stability and peace” are as important as fresh air only when they have lost them. Yet Chan was once a supporter of the protesters on Tiananmen Square in 1989 when he was trying to tap into the booming Western home video market.
Chan was always where he thought he had the best chances. And after the Olympic Games, where he served as a torchbearer in 2008, that was the People’s Republic. “I have visited many countries and I can say that our country has developed rapidly in recent years. I am proud to be Chinese wherever I go, and the ‘Red Five-Star Flag’ is respected all over the world,” he said in 2019.
Chan celebrated his 60th birthday ten years ago with a big party that lasted five days. A Chinese newspaper wrote at the time that more stars attended than the annual Spring Festival gala on CCTV. This year, the star is apparently celebrating the milestone anniversary in a smaller circle. Even national heroes become older. Fabian Peltsch
And how are your brain circuits wired? Are all your synapses hopelessly tuned to romance? Have matters of the heart gone so to your head that most of your thoughts revolve around your loved one?
Dissected with the linguistic scalpel of Mandarin, China’s online community comes to the razor-sharp conclusion in such cases: you have (and are) a 恋爱脑 liàn’àinǎo – a “lovebrain” (from 恋爱 liàn’ài “to love; love” + 脑 nǎo “brain”). In other words, a hopeless romantic or blind with love. We know them in the West too: total relationship persons for whom their sweetheart always and only comes first.
Of course, there are other types of thinking organs between human temples, such as working brains (工作脑 gōngzuònǎo) or career brains (事业脑 shìyènǎo). If your grey matter is ticking like this, your job and promotion are the only things on your mind.
And those who put their buddies and besties above everything else most likely have a friendship brain (友情脑 yǒuqíngnǎo) under their skullcap. And those who only ever have “the one thing” on their minds when socializing are classified as 性缘脑 xìngyuánnǎo (from 性 xìng “sex, sexual” + 缘 yuán “reason, intention”). A somewhat obscure euphemism for sexaholics.
If you want to change your romantic mind, it’s a good idea to train your brain with a few more Chinese words about “grey matter.” You’ve no doubt already memorized the “electric brain” (电脑 diànnǎo) for “computer.” But perhaps there’s still a little room in your head, or rather in your melon (脑瓜 nǎoguā “brain melon” – colloquial for “head”), for the Chinese equivalent of “out of your mind.” In the Middle Kingdom, this is referred to as “water in the head” (脑子进水了 nǎozi jìnshuǐ le – quite literally: “water has seeped into the head”).
But be careful: linguistically, this has absolutely nothing to do with brainwashing. This can be practically directly translated from English into Mandarin as 洗脑 xǐnǎo “to wash the brain.”
Once again, it shows that looking at a foreign language can be quite inspiring. Or, as the Chinese would say, it opens the brain cavity (开脑洞 kāi nǎodòng “to inspire, to give amazing new food for thought”). So the next time you are looking for good ideas in the “ocean” between your ears (脑海 nǎohǎi – literally “brain sea,” figuratively “mind, thoughts”) or desperately wringing out your brain juices to solve complicated relationship issues (绞脑汁 jiǎo nǎozhī “to rack your brains”), why not simply decode some figurative Chinese words to relax and take your mind off things?
Sometimes, a bowl of “tofu brain” (豆腐脑 dòufunǎo) can also help against a creative blockade. Don’t worry. We are not talking about a culinary dare but a tasty (and completely brain-free) specialty made from tender, soft tofu, available in sweet and savory versions, depending on the region. In the end, perhaps love doesn’t just go to the head but also through the stomach.
Verena Menzel runs the online language school New Chinese in Beijing.
