The Chinese censorship ecosystem intentionally avoids clear red lines. This vagueness forces internet platforms and users to over-interpret rules and proactively self-censor, making it a more effective control mechanism than explicit prohibitions.

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As the global internet splinters into nationally-regulated zones, many world leaders look with jealousy at China's ability to control its digital "town square." Despite public criticism, the Chinese model of a managed internet appeals to governments seeking greater control over online discourse, even in democracies.

A US Diplomat argues that laws like the EU's DSA and the UK's Online Safety Act create a chilling effect. By imposing vague obligations with massive fines, they push risk-averse corporations to censor content excessively, leading to ridiculous outcomes like parliamentary speeches being blocked.

Despite different political systems, the US and Chinese internets have converged because power is highly centralized. Whether it's a government controlling platforms like Weibo or tech oligarchs like Elon Musk controlling X, the result is a small group dictating the digital public square's rules.

Social media platform Weibo outcompeted rivals not with better features, but by being more effective at censoring content during political unrest in 2009. While other platforms were shut down by the government, Weibo's adeptness at content moderation ensured its survival and subsequent market dominance.

When direct censorship is unconstitutional, governments pressure intermediaries like tech companies, banks, or funded NGOs to suppress speech. These risk-averse middlemen comply to stay in the government's good graces, effectively doing the state's dirty work.

The Chinese phrase "dancing in shackles" captures the dynamic of creating and innovating within a rigidly constrained society. Originally used by journalists, the term now applies to software engineers and artists navigating the push-and-pull between state control and personal or economic expression online.

For Chinese internet companies, extensive keyword databases used for censorship are not just compliance tools; they are crucial, proprietary assets. A more comprehensive and accurate database provides a significant competitive survival advantage over rivals, making it a core part of their business moat.

While both the Biden administration's pressure on YouTube and Trump's threats against ABC are anti-free speech, the former is more insidious. Surreptitious, behind-the-scenes censorship is harder to identify and fight publicly, making it a greater threat to open discourse than loud, transparent attacks that can be openly condemned.

Internet platforms like Weibo don't merely react to government censorship orders. They often act preemptively, scrubbing potentially sensitive content before receiving any official directive. This self-censorship, driven by fear of punishment, creates a more restrictive environment than the state explicitly demands.

Censorship in China operates less through direct orders and more through an atmosphere of unpredictable threat. Like an anaconda sleeping in a chandelier above a dinner party, the state's potential to strike at any moment for any reason causes individuals to self-censor constantly, stifling creativity and open discourse.