A trend for TV show fans with little time: Micro-dramas have conquered China’s mobile phones. Each captivating episode is just two minutes long on average. The cliffhangers and plot twists have to be particularly dramatic to give the audience a maximum dose of heartache and suspense in the short time available. It is a world in which the storytelling is not always sophisticated, but the business models are all the more so.
A market worth billions has already emerged, reaching 70 percent of the level of cinema productions. However, as with any rapidly growing cultural phenomenon, the censors have already cast their strict eye on micro-dramas. Violent, oversexualized, promoting “bad views of love and marriage” – the state now wants to regulate what consumers are devouring, writes Fabian Peltsch in his analysis.
No less exciting, but a little more protracted and certainly not over in two minutes: The tariff dispute over electric cars manufactured in China that find their way into the EU. An unfair attack on China’s rise – this is how Beijing views Brussels’ measure.
The negotiations are not even close to an agreement that would avert the measure. This Friday morning, the tariffs will come into effect provisionally. Finn Mayer-Kuckuk and Till Hoppe describe the deep divide that still separates the negotiators. A rapid plot twist? Not yet in sight.
The EU’s announcement to impose extra tariffs on Chinese EVs comes at an increasingly volatile time. The German automotive industry is more nervous than ever, while the EU and China accuse each other of being unwilling to compromise. Both sides stress that they are trying to negotiate a solution, but their positions are still far apart.
The extra tariffs will come into force on the night of Thursday to Friday, initially on a provisional basis. Manufacturers will not have to pay between 17.4 and 37.6 percent rates until November. After recalculations, the initial figure of 38.1 percent has been slightly reduced. The slightly lower maximum rate will apply to manufacturers who have refused to cooperate with the EU investigators.
The Chinese regard the European tariffs – and the indiscriminate US tariffs of 100 percent on Chinese EVs – as an unfair attack on China’s rise. In turn, China’s own support for the fledgling electric car industry is seen as an environmental policy instrument.
Trade expert Cui Fan from the University of International Business and Economics told the propaganda newspaper China Daily that achieving the green transition would take 20 to 30 years longer with market forces alone than under the influence of targeted subsidies and that the global green transformation cannot afford such a slow shift.
The EU’s demand to reduce subsidies also completely contradicts China’s industrial policy logic. The latter is based on many other criteria than exports to Europe, including environmental and modernization goals, as well as supporting the job market and the development of structurally weak regions.
The subsidies are so deeply embedded in the system that they cannot be switched off or turned down at the flick of a switch. One important reason for the low prices is the uncoordinated subsidization of local suppliers in the provinces, who make their own decisions. On top of this came a dramatic downturn as a result of the increasingly severe property crisis.
On the other hand, the EU Commission sees the Chinese promotion of its car industry as unfair subsidies with the aim of dominating foreign markets. After initial talks between Trade Commissioner Valdis Dombrovskis and Trade Minister Wang Wentao, the positions are still far apart. Dombrovskis explained that his own investigation was so balanced that a retaliation would be pointless. However, on Thursday, China’s Ministry of Commerce announced an anti-dumping investigation into the EU’s toluidine class of chemicals.
The Chinese Ministry of Commerce left all options open on Thursday. “We hope that the EU can work with China in the same direction to push for progress in consultations as soon as possible and reach a solution acceptable to both sides,” a ministry spokesperson said, adding that the four-month window should be used to advance the consultation process.
German car manufacturers like Volkswagen once again opposed the extra tariffs on Thursday. VW believes that the adverse effects of this decision outweigh the positive effects for the European and especially the German car industry. Instead, the company welcomes the competition and considers it essential to boost the EV market.
The Federation of German Industries (BDI) issued a convoluted statement on Thursday in an attempt to integrate the diverse interests of its member companies and its own assessment of the situation into one position. “Provisional countervailing duties are not a contradiction to negotiations,” said BDI Managing Director Tanja Goenner. “The Commission’s negotiating line should reflect the diversity of interests in the EU.” In other words, in Germany’s interests, it should not be too tough and uncompromising in the negotiations. However: “The BDI advocates minimizing the market-distorting effects of state industrial policy and countering unfair trade practices.”
Meanwhile, economists confirm the perception that, by international standards, China subsidizes in a manner that significantly distorts the market. Tariffs are generally seen as a means of protecting the EU market from this.
In a calculation published on Thursday, the Kiel Institute for the World Economy (IfW Kiel), the Austrian Institute for Economic Research (WIFO), and the Supply Chain Intelligence Institute Austria (ASCII) estimate that the measure could reduce vehicle imports from China by 42 percent. The main beneficiaries would be EU brands, whose sales could increase accordingly.
In fact, China’s exports are rising sharply. From January to May, EV exports to all parts of the world grew by almost 14 percent to over half a million vehicles, as the latest figures from the China Association of Automobile Manufacturers show. This is in line with the EU’s assessment that the low sales figures to date should not obscure the fact that exports of these low-cost products could increase like an avalanche in the absence of trade measures.
The German car industry’s opposition has many reasons. Unlike the EU leadership and many economists who look at the overall geopolitical and macroeconomic picture, corporate executives focus on business performance. The dependency on China remains very high here.
In addition, many German brands also manufacture in China for Europe and vice versa. This means they are acutely vulnerable to tariffs.
Both Mercedes and BMW report that around 80 percent of their cars for the Chinese market are produced locally in China, while 20 percent are shipped from Europe. This mainly includes their premium models, such as the BMW 8 Series and 7 Series. At Volkswagen, these are Porsche, Bentley and Lamborghini cars. All of these exports to China would be affected by retaliation from the People’s Republic.
But even the current EU tariffs are not leaving all European suppliers unscathed:
Volkswagen and Mercedes, on the other hand, (largely) avoid shipping from China to the EU.
The controversial tariffs are added to the ten percent that the EU levies on imports from all WTO countries with which it does not have a free trade agreement. The tariff rates are:
The providers who have cooperated with the EU and now have to pay 20.8 percent include:
Is China reinventing the entertainment industry? So-called micro-dramas 微短剧 have quickly turned the streaming market upside down. These are online shows with an average episode length of two minutes and are best consumed on a smartphone. The stories, which are shot in vertical format, have to keep the audience hooked, so the plot twists and cliffhangers are as dramatic as possible. The stories often revolve around love and intrigue. Some of them are costume dramas inspired by Chinese history. Time travel has also been a popular theme since the streaming hit “I became a stepmom in the 80s 我在八零年代当后妈”.
The leading providers are video platforms such as Kuaishou, Douyin, iQiyi and BiliBili, although tech giants such as Tencent are also jumping on the bandwagon. The business model resembles that of drug dealers. The first episodes are free. If you get hooked, you must pay – at least for the ad-free versions. Individual episodes are available for as little as one yuan, while seasons of premium shows cost up to 20 euros. On June 2, for example, Hong Kong star director Stephen Chow (“Kung Fu Hustle”) presented his first micro-series, “Take Me Home 金猪玉叶” exclusively on Douyin, the video platform of TikTok parent company ByteDance. In the first five hours alone, the pilot of the 24-episode series reached over five million views. So far, however, such major productions are still the exception. Most of them are more like audiovisual dime novels. Nevertheless, it can already be considered a tiktokization of the film and streaming industry.
While short dramas have been a phenomenon in China and South Korea since at least 2018, the trend gained momentum in 2020, with a temporary peak last year. According to a report by iMedia Research, the micro-drama market in China was worth 37.4 billion yuan, or around five billion dollars, in 2023. This represents an increase of around 268 percent compared to the previous year. This means the micro-drama market will achieve 70 percent of annual box office revenue. Forecasts predict that this market value will even exceed 14 billion dollars by 2027.
The advantages over traditional cinema and conventional TV shows are obvious: The production costs and time involved are comparatively low. The series can be adapted more quickly to current tastes and viewing habits using the algorithms of the video apps, which also promises faster profits – especially as excessive product placement is by no means taboo. The teams behind the micro-dramas are very rarely highly paid film professionals. Scripts do not have to go into great detail or be particularly original. The market was accused of plagiarism right from the start. And as with any cultural phenomenon that quickly becomes very big, the censorship authorities soon appeared on the scene.
Back in December 2023, the Communist Party’s Cyberspace Affairs Office complained that many micro-series were too violent and oversexualized, promoted discrimination and conveyed “poor views on love and marriage.” Since June 1, the government has demanded a license for all micro-dramas based on a “classified and tiered review system.” Before they can be broadcast online, shows with an investment of over one million yuan (around 130,000 euros) must be submitted to the National Radio and Television Administration. Micro-dramas with an investment of between 300,000 and one million yuan must be reviewed by the provincial radio and television departments. Those with an investment of less than 300,000 yuan – the majority – have to be reviewed by the platforms themselves. This encourages caution and self-censorship. Some popular productions have already disappeared from platforms such as Douyin and Kuaishou. It is unclear whether this was due to pressure from the authorities or anticipatory obedience.
Nearly all major platforms have already announced plans to focus more on premium content in the future. Bilibili wants to publish 20 such productions this year. Douyin announced in January that it would increasingly focus on micro-dramas that portray everyday life in China and promote traditional culture and local tourism. State-owned media conglomerates such as Hunan TV and the Shenzhen Local Health Commission have also launched micro-dramas.
Some say that censorship stifles the fledgling art form before it can find its own creative path. Some Chinese producers are already trying to produce abroad to escape domestic censorship. ReelShort, a Chinese app for streaming micro-dramas, was downloaded over seven million times in the USA in 2023. In February, the app TOPShort had more downloads in the US Apple Store than Netflix. It is unknown who downloaded the apps and what was watched there.
As we all know, clothes make the man – but they can also be a disguise. When Shenzhen media artist Fang Di works his day job, he has to wear a suit and tie. He often has to rush to an evening exhibition opening, still wearing his work clothes, and is not even recognized as an “artist.” If he is, people are quick to mistake him for a brisk corporate artist.
Others might consider this irreparable damage to their image, but for Fang, it’s a game. The smooth change of identities amuses him, even during the day: “At work, nobody knows that I make art. My boss certainly wouldn’t be happy if he knew that I still had the capacity for a second job.”
Many artists in Shenzhen have a second income, explains Fang Di, because the cost of living is simply too high. Most of them work as waiters or tutors. Fang’s job, on the other hand, is not just any “job.” He promotes cooperation between China and Papua New Guinea as part of the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) for a state-owned company. To this end, he visits Port Moresby, the capital of the Pacific island nation, every six months.
He does not actually have any formal qualifications for this job. After graduating from the Guangzhou Academy of Fine Arts and the Mount Royal School of Art in Baltimore, Fang worked on building construction and urban planning projects. “At graduate school, most of my fellow students were interested in abstraction and formalism, but I always wanted to know what was happening outside. That’s the most important thing for artists – understanding where they live and what’s happening in their world.”
In one of his films, “Minister” (2019), Fang Di retraces the story of Justin Tkatchenko, whom he met through his day job. Tkatchenko is an Australian with Eastern European roots who moved to Papua New Guinea to pursue his passion for indigenous orchids. There, he embarked on a fast-paced, unforeseen career. He first gained a foothold as a curator in the botanical gardens, became a well-known television presenter, and then shortly afterward made a splash as an influential politician. As Foreign Minister of Papua New Guinea, he became one of the most influential figures in the cooperation with China – and in Fang Di’s art, a symbol for the eccentrics and sometimes shady characters doing business on the roadside of the New Silk Road.
Fang also sees the apparent contradictions of globalization condensed in the person of Tkatchenko. The film comprises television footage and videos that Fang filmed mainly with his cell phone. A film camera would have been too conspicuous: “I still had to pursue my job in parallel.”
Fang Di sees his day job and the “camouflage” provided by his suit and tie as a competitive advantage: “In my work for the state-owned company, I have to report to my superiors and come across information and problems that artists don’t normally have access to.” Like a solar project, for example, which will be the subject of Fang’s next film. He will probably shoot most of it in camouflage again, as befits a shrewd documentary filmmaker: suit and tie. Julius Schwarzwaelder
52 million dogs and 70 million cats – according to estimates by the marketing company Petdata.cn, that is how many pets live in the People’s Republic. As the number of pets increases, so does the likelihood of some of them disappearing or even being stolen, a new profession has emerged: Pet detectives. They offer their services on social media for between 400 and 4000 euros. Depending on the severity of the case, they may also use thermal cameras and night vision devices.
A trend for TV show fans with little time: Micro-dramas have conquered China’s mobile phones. Each captivating episode is just two minutes long on average. The cliffhangers and plot twists have to be particularly dramatic to give the audience a maximum dose of heartache and suspense in the short time available. It is a world in which the storytelling is not always sophisticated, but the business models are all the more so.
A market worth billions has already emerged, reaching 70 percent of the level of cinema productions. However, as with any rapidly growing cultural phenomenon, the censors have already cast their strict eye on micro-dramas. Violent, oversexualized, promoting “bad views of love and marriage” – the state now wants to regulate what consumers are devouring, writes Fabian Peltsch in his analysis.
No less exciting, but a little more protracted and certainly not over in two minutes: The tariff dispute over electric cars manufactured in China that find their way into the EU. An unfair attack on China’s rise – this is how Beijing views Brussels’ measure.
The negotiations are not even close to an agreement that would avert the measure. This Friday morning, the tariffs will come into effect provisionally. Finn Mayer-Kuckuk and Till Hoppe describe the deep divide that still separates the negotiators. A rapid plot twist? Not yet in sight.
The EU’s announcement to impose extra tariffs on Chinese EVs comes at an increasingly volatile time. The German automotive industry is more nervous than ever, while the EU and China accuse each other of being unwilling to compromise. Both sides stress that they are trying to negotiate a solution, but their positions are still far apart.
The extra tariffs will come into force on the night of Thursday to Friday, initially on a provisional basis. Manufacturers will not have to pay between 17.4 and 37.6 percent rates until November. After recalculations, the initial figure of 38.1 percent has been slightly reduced. The slightly lower maximum rate will apply to manufacturers who have refused to cooperate with the EU investigators.
The Chinese regard the European tariffs – and the indiscriminate US tariffs of 100 percent on Chinese EVs – as an unfair attack on China’s rise. In turn, China’s own support for the fledgling electric car industry is seen as an environmental policy instrument.
Trade expert Cui Fan from the University of International Business and Economics told the propaganda newspaper China Daily that achieving the green transition would take 20 to 30 years longer with market forces alone than under the influence of targeted subsidies and that the global green transformation cannot afford such a slow shift.
The EU’s demand to reduce subsidies also completely contradicts China’s industrial policy logic. The latter is based on many other criteria than exports to Europe, including environmental and modernization goals, as well as supporting the job market and the development of structurally weak regions.
The subsidies are so deeply embedded in the system that they cannot be switched off or turned down at the flick of a switch. One important reason for the low prices is the uncoordinated subsidization of local suppliers in the provinces, who make their own decisions. On top of this came a dramatic downturn as a result of the increasingly severe property crisis.
On the other hand, the EU Commission sees the Chinese promotion of its car industry as unfair subsidies with the aim of dominating foreign markets. After initial talks between Trade Commissioner Valdis Dombrovskis and Trade Minister Wang Wentao, the positions are still far apart. Dombrovskis explained that his own investigation was so balanced that a retaliation would be pointless. However, on Thursday, China’s Ministry of Commerce announced an anti-dumping investigation into the EU’s toluidine class of chemicals.
The Chinese Ministry of Commerce left all options open on Thursday. “We hope that the EU can work with China in the same direction to push for progress in consultations as soon as possible and reach a solution acceptable to both sides,” a ministry spokesperson said, adding that the four-month window should be used to advance the consultation process.
German car manufacturers like Volkswagen once again opposed the extra tariffs on Thursday. VW believes that the adverse effects of this decision outweigh the positive effects for the European and especially the German car industry. Instead, the company welcomes the competition and considers it essential to boost the EV market.
The Federation of German Industries (BDI) issued a convoluted statement on Thursday in an attempt to integrate the diverse interests of its member companies and its own assessment of the situation into one position. “Provisional countervailing duties are not a contradiction to negotiations,” said BDI Managing Director Tanja Goenner. “The Commission’s negotiating line should reflect the diversity of interests in the EU.” In other words, in Germany’s interests, it should not be too tough and uncompromising in the negotiations. However: “The BDI advocates minimizing the market-distorting effects of state industrial policy and countering unfair trade practices.”
Meanwhile, economists confirm the perception that, by international standards, China subsidizes in a manner that significantly distorts the market. Tariffs are generally seen as a means of protecting the EU market from this.
In a calculation published on Thursday, the Kiel Institute for the World Economy (IfW Kiel), the Austrian Institute for Economic Research (WIFO), and the Supply Chain Intelligence Institute Austria (ASCII) estimate that the measure could reduce vehicle imports from China by 42 percent. The main beneficiaries would be EU brands, whose sales could increase accordingly.
In fact, China’s exports are rising sharply. From January to May, EV exports to all parts of the world grew by almost 14 percent to over half a million vehicles, as the latest figures from the China Association of Automobile Manufacturers show. This is in line with the EU’s assessment that the low sales figures to date should not obscure the fact that exports of these low-cost products could increase like an avalanche in the absence of trade measures.
The German car industry’s opposition has many reasons. Unlike the EU leadership and many economists who look at the overall geopolitical and macroeconomic picture, corporate executives focus on business performance. The dependency on China remains very high here.
In addition, many German brands also manufacture in China for Europe and vice versa. This means they are acutely vulnerable to tariffs.
Both Mercedes and BMW report that around 80 percent of their cars for the Chinese market are produced locally in China, while 20 percent are shipped from Europe. This mainly includes their premium models, such as the BMW 8 Series and 7 Series. At Volkswagen, these are Porsche, Bentley and Lamborghini cars. All of these exports to China would be affected by retaliation from the People’s Republic.
But even the current EU tariffs are not leaving all European suppliers unscathed:
Volkswagen and Mercedes, on the other hand, (largely) avoid shipping from China to the EU.
The controversial tariffs are added to the ten percent that the EU levies on imports from all WTO countries with which it does not have a free trade agreement. The tariff rates are:
The providers who have cooperated with the EU and now have to pay 20.8 percent include:
Is China reinventing the entertainment industry? So-called micro-dramas 微短剧 have quickly turned the streaming market upside down. These are online shows with an average episode length of two minutes and are best consumed on a smartphone. The stories, which are shot in vertical format, have to keep the audience hooked, so the plot twists and cliffhangers are as dramatic as possible. The stories often revolve around love and intrigue. Some of them are costume dramas inspired by Chinese history. Time travel has also been a popular theme since the streaming hit “I became a stepmom in the 80s 我在八零年代当后妈”.
The leading providers are video platforms such as Kuaishou, Douyin, iQiyi and BiliBili, although tech giants such as Tencent are also jumping on the bandwagon. The business model resembles that of drug dealers. The first episodes are free. If you get hooked, you must pay – at least for the ad-free versions. Individual episodes are available for as little as one yuan, while seasons of premium shows cost up to 20 euros. On June 2, for example, Hong Kong star director Stephen Chow (“Kung Fu Hustle”) presented his first micro-series, “Take Me Home 金猪玉叶” exclusively on Douyin, the video platform of TikTok parent company ByteDance. In the first five hours alone, the pilot of the 24-episode series reached over five million views. So far, however, such major productions are still the exception. Most of them are more like audiovisual dime novels. Nevertheless, it can already be considered a tiktokization of the film and streaming industry.
While short dramas have been a phenomenon in China and South Korea since at least 2018, the trend gained momentum in 2020, with a temporary peak last year. According to a report by iMedia Research, the micro-drama market in China was worth 37.4 billion yuan, or around five billion dollars, in 2023. This represents an increase of around 268 percent compared to the previous year. This means the micro-drama market will achieve 70 percent of annual box office revenue. Forecasts predict that this market value will even exceed 14 billion dollars by 2027.
The advantages over traditional cinema and conventional TV shows are obvious: The production costs and time involved are comparatively low. The series can be adapted more quickly to current tastes and viewing habits using the algorithms of the video apps, which also promises faster profits – especially as excessive product placement is by no means taboo. The teams behind the micro-dramas are very rarely highly paid film professionals. Scripts do not have to go into great detail or be particularly original. The market was accused of plagiarism right from the start. And as with any cultural phenomenon that quickly becomes very big, the censorship authorities soon appeared on the scene.
Back in December 2023, the Communist Party’s Cyberspace Affairs Office complained that many micro-series were too violent and oversexualized, promoted discrimination and conveyed “poor views on love and marriage.” Since June 1, the government has demanded a license for all micro-dramas based on a “classified and tiered review system.” Before they can be broadcast online, shows with an investment of over one million yuan (around 130,000 euros) must be submitted to the National Radio and Television Administration. Micro-dramas with an investment of between 300,000 and one million yuan must be reviewed by the provincial radio and television departments. Those with an investment of less than 300,000 yuan – the majority – have to be reviewed by the platforms themselves. This encourages caution and self-censorship. Some popular productions have already disappeared from platforms such as Douyin and Kuaishou. It is unclear whether this was due to pressure from the authorities or anticipatory obedience.
Nearly all major platforms have already announced plans to focus more on premium content in the future. Bilibili wants to publish 20 such productions this year. Douyin announced in January that it would increasingly focus on micro-dramas that portray everyday life in China and promote traditional culture and local tourism. State-owned media conglomerates such as Hunan TV and the Shenzhen Local Health Commission have also launched micro-dramas.
Some say that censorship stifles the fledgling art form before it can find its own creative path. Some Chinese producers are already trying to produce abroad to escape domestic censorship. ReelShort, a Chinese app for streaming micro-dramas, was downloaded over seven million times in the USA in 2023. In February, the app TOPShort had more downloads in the US Apple Store than Netflix. It is unknown who downloaded the apps and what was watched there.
As we all know, clothes make the man – but they can also be a disguise. When Shenzhen media artist Fang Di works his day job, he has to wear a suit and tie. He often has to rush to an evening exhibition opening, still wearing his work clothes, and is not even recognized as an “artist.” If he is, people are quick to mistake him for a brisk corporate artist.
Others might consider this irreparable damage to their image, but for Fang, it’s a game. The smooth change of identities amuses him, even during the day: “At work, nobody knows that I make art. My boss certainly wouldn’t be happy if he knew that I still had the capacity for a second job.”
Many artists in Shenzhen have a second income, explains Fang Di, because the cost of living is simply too high. Most of them work as waiters or tutors. Fang’s job, on the other hand, is not just any “job.” He promotes cooperation between China and Papua New Guinea as part of the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) for a state-owned company. To this end, he visits Port Moresby, the capital of the Pacific island nation, every six months.
He does not actually have any formal qualifications for this job. After graduating from the Guangzhou Academy of Fine Arts and the Mount Royal School of Art in Baltimore, Fang worked on building construction and urban planning projects. “At graduate school, most of my fellow students were interested in abstraction and formalism, but I always wanted to know what was happening outside. That’s the most important thing for artists – understanding where they live and what’s happening in their world.”
In one of his films, “Minister” (2019), Fang Di retraces the story of Justin Tkatchenko, whom he met through his day job. Tkatchenko is an Australian with Eastern European roots who moved to Papua New Guinea to pursue his passion for indigenous orchids. There, he embarked on a fast-paced, unforeseen career. He first gained a foothold as a curator in the botanical gardens, became a well-known television presenter, and then shortly afterward made a splash as an influential politician. As Foreign Minister of Papua New Guinea, he became one of the most influential figures in the cooperation with China – and in Fang Di’s art, a symbol for the eccentrics and sometimes shady characters doing business on the roadside of the New Silk Road.
Fang also sees the apparent contradictions of globalization condensed in the person of Tkatchenko. The film comprises television footage and videos that Fang filmed mainly with his cell phone. A film camera would have been too conspicuous: “I still had to pursue my job in parallel.”
Fang Di sees his day job and the “camouflage” provided by his suit and tie as a competitive advantage: “In my work for the state-owned company, I have to report to my superiors and come across information and problems that artists don’t normally have access to.” Like a solar project, for example, which will be the subject of Fang’s next film. He will probably shoot most of it in camouflage again, as befits a shrewd documentary filmmaker: suit and tie. Julius Schwarzwaelder
52 million dogs and 70 million cats – according to estimates by the marketing company Petdata.cn, that is how many pets live in the People’s Republic. As the number of pets increases, so does the likelihood of some of them disappearing or even being stolen, a new profession has emerged: Pet detectives. They offer their services on social media for between 400 and 4000 euros. Depending on the severity of the case, they may also use thermal cameras and night vision devices.
