Chinese authorities have launched a sweeping campaign against online content they say undermines public optimism and promotes “rejection of work and family values.” Hundreds of accounts and bloggers who wrote about poverty, inequality, and disillusionment among young people have been blocked.
In late September, China’s Cyberspace Administration began a two-month campaign to purge social media of content that, in the government’s view, “excessively amplifies negative and pessimistic sentiments” and spreads “defeatist narratives”—such as claims that “hard work is meaningless.” Dozens of popular accounts have been affected by the initiative.
Among those banned were bloggers promoting minimalism and rejection of career ambitions, as well as an author who wrote that “the rational economic choice is not to marry or have children.” Another user who compared the quality of life in China and the West—unfavorably for the former—was also blocked. Some of these influencers had tens of millions of followers.
Local authorities across the country began mass shutdowns of accounts where users complained about urban infrastructure and housing prices. On Weibo, China’s largest social network, more than 1,200 pages were blocked for “spreading rumors” about the state of the economy and society.
Censors paid particular attention to the death of actor Yu Menglong. According to the official version, he died in an accident, but an alternative theory spread online—that he had committed suicide due to stress, corruption, and pressure within the entertainment industry. Weibo deleted or suspended more than 1,500 accounts discussing this version of events.
Videos by blogger Hu Chenfeng, who frequently spoke about poverty and inequality, were also banned. He became known for turning the word “Android” into a symbol of social divide—a contrast between “Apple people” and “Android people,” the rich and the poor. Today, Chinese youth even use “Android housing” as slang for modest or inexpensive apartments.
Censors are also targeting those who write about low social mobility and limited opportunities for people from poor families. Authors of such posts note that without personal connections, it is nearly impossible to break into prestigious fields like IT or finance.
Restrictions also extend to discussions of violent crimes linked to social frustration and the lack of mental health support. This includes a series of attacks in 2024 that left dozens dead. Although the perpetrators were not connected and acted in different ways—from car rammings to knife assaults—they shared one thing in common: a desire to “take revenge on society” for their sense of hopelessness.
At the same time, state media—including People’s Daily and China Central Television—have launched a campaign against so-called “emotional predators,” who, according to propaganda outlets, “spread the darkest stories for clicks.”
Chinese authorities view the “spread of melancholy” and rejection of traditional life goals—work, family, career advancement—as a political threat. In 2025, a record 12.2 million college graduates will enter the job market, even as the economy slows and jobs remain scarce. Discontent among young people is growing, deepening a sense of apathy and alienation.
Party media and regulators are urging online platforms to stop “promoting pessimism.” Yet the likely outcome of this campaign will be the opposite: the disappearance of the last remaining channels for public expression of frustration and a further entrenchment of the country’s structural problems.