Are You in a “Very Chinese Time of Your Life Right Now”?

By Claire DIVISIA

In April 2025, a seemingly innocuous post by Twitter user @girl_virus declared: “you met me at a very chinese time in my life.” What began as a parody of a quote from the cult classic Fight Club quickly mutated into a defining cultural trend for Gen Z: “becoming Chinese,” or “Chinamaxxing.” Becoming Chinese has been defined as a social media trend popularized by Generation Z, and particularly prevalent among those living in the West, who adopt norms and traditions typically associated with Chinese culture, or express public praise for China as a country and nation (South China Morning Post, 2026). While the origins of the meme date back to early 2025, it began widespread circulation across Tiktok and other social media platforms in 2026 (Price, 2026). But beneath the viral videos of influencers drinking hot water or unboxing Labubu dolls lies a deeper story: an entire generation’s growing disillusionment with the American Dream.

This phenomenon started with consumerism. For years, “Made in China” was a label looked down upon in the West, but today, these products, from Labubu dolls to Temu furniture, have become desirable. Market data shows that Pop Mart, the company behind the viral Labubu figurines, made roughly $870 million in just the first half of 2024 (Bharade & Liam, 2025). Meanwhile, Chinese e-commerce giants like Taobao have surged to the top of App Store charts in the US, Canada and France in 2025. But the spread of “Chineseness” hasn’t stopped at viral products; it has entered people’s lifestyles. Mandarin learning on Duolingo spiked by 216% in early 2026, at the same time as Tiktok users migrated in a cohort of over 700 million ‘refugees’ to RedNote (Xiaohongshu) (Perez, 2025). Searches for “Traditional Chinese Medicine” also reached peak popularity this year as young Westerners trade coffee for hot water and embrace Chinese routines like eating congee and wearing slippers around the house. For many, these practices offer a sense of discipline and wellness that feels missing in the chaotic, high-stress environment of Western late-stage capitalism.

Why is this happening now? The answer is as much about Washington as it is about Beijing. While China is enjoying a rise in popularity, favorability for the West, notably the United States, is plummeting (Schulman & Silver, 2026). Following the 2024 US election and a series of controversial reforms, trust in Western institutions has severely eroded (Eddy & Shearer, 2025). In 2014, 75% of people in France viewed the US favorably (Statista 2025a); by 2025, that number dropped to 36% (Statista 2025b). As the “American Dream” feels increasingly unattainable due to rising costs of living and political instability, China’s model is being re-evaluated by Gen Z. While the West faces recession fears, China has reached a 90% urban homeownership rate (Jin, 2023) and eradicated extreme poverty for 800 million people (World Bank Group, 2023). Beijing has also gotten smarter about its image, employing increasingly efficient soft power tactics through social media. Instead of rigid political propaganda, they are harnessing the “attention economy” by inviting influencers to share “authentic” experiences of the utopias they encounter in China’s big cities like Chongqing and Shanghai. This “memetic warfare,” using memes and viral content to fight ideological battles, has successfully rebranded China as the cool, efficient alternative to a declining West.

However, we need to look at this trend with a critical eye. Most Americans “becoming Chinese” aren’t engaging with the actual, complex reality of life in the PRC. Instead, they are consuming a “hyperreal” version: a curated, frictionless fantasy designed to absorb the West’s grievances. By over-idealizing China as a response to their own political frustrations, many are falling into a trap of what the sociologist Colin Campbell calls “imaginative hedonism.” The Western audience selectively chooses aspects of China to praise and daydream about, deriving pleasure from it, instead of actually engaging with the actual, complex reality of the state (Urry, 2002). This binary thinking, leading “anti-US” sentiments of the Western youth to evolve into “pro-China” ones often overlooks serious issues, such as the treatment of ethnic Tibetan and Uyghur minorities, in favor of the smooth, one-dimensional facade portrayed through memes and short-form online content. 

In a similar vein, this trend risks the  commodification of racial differences. When we reduce a country’s culture to a “trend” or a “meme,” we engage in a form of cultural consumption that famous author bell hooks described as “eating the other” (hooks, 1992). We treat Chinese culture like a “spice” to liven up our own lives without actually respecting the history or the struggles of the people behind it. We can wear Adidas CNY jackets and drink Tsingtao beer, but we don’t have to face the systemic discrimination that many of Chinese descent actually experience in the West. Ultimately, this trend is just an “era” that will also come to an end as the Internet moves on to another culture to center on, as easily disposable as a SHEIN piece of clothing. China is just an “Other” that will ultimately be “eaten, consumed, and forgotten,” inscribing itself in a long history of Edward Said’s Orientalism (Said, 1973).

Perhaps the most concerning part of this correlation between “becoming Chinese” memes and the tendency of falling into a dualist nature of discourse of “good VS. bad” is what it says about our current capacity for nuance. While the trend is broadly a force for good, combating decades of anti-Chinese propaganda from the West, we seem to have lost the ability to hold two truths at once: that the Western model is currently failing many of its citizens, and that the alternative rising to meet it has its own, deep flaws. 

The “Chinese Era” of social media proves that we are desperate for a different way of living, but we won’t find it by simply swapping one idealized superpower for another. True progress requires us to stop looking for a “default” model, critiquing both systems honestly, and fixing their issues. Until we can move past the binary of “Western failure vs. Eastern success,” we aren’t actually protesting the status quo, we’re just continuing to scroll through it, with no action taken. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Bharade, A., & Liam, E. (2025, May 19). A fluffy, $85 toy is taking Asia by storm and sparking legions of knockoffs. Inside the meteoric rise of Labubu. Business Insider. https://www.businessinsider.com/inside-rise-labubu-monsters-popmart-toy-adults-china-sold-out-2024-11 

Eddy, K., & Shearer, E. (2025, October 29). How trust in info from news outlets and social media has changed over time. Pew Research Center. https://www.pewresearch.org/short-reads/2025/10/29/how-americans-trust-in-information-from-news-organizations-and-social-media-sites-has-changed-over-time/ 

hooks, b. (1992). Black looks: Race and Representation. South End Press.

Jin, K. (2023). The new China Playbook: Beyond Socialism and Capitalism. National Geographic Books.

Perez, S. (2025, January 15). Duolingo sees 216% spike in US users learning Chinese amid TikTok ban and move to RedNote. TechCrunch. https://techcrunch.com/2025/01/15/duolingo-sees-216-spike-in-u-s-users-learning-chinese-amid-tiktok-ban-and-move-to-rednote/ 

Price, J. (2026, January 15). 2026 is the Year Everyone Wants to “Become Chinese”: What to Know About the Viral TikTok Trend. Complex. https://www.complex.com/pop-culture/a/backwoodsaltar/viral-tiktok-trend-2026-become-chinese 

Said, E. W. (1979). Orientalism. Vintage.

Schulman, J., & Silver, L. (2026, March 26). US favorability down, China favorability up in many countries. Pew Research Center. https://www.pewresearch.org/short-reads/2025/07/15/views-of-the-us-have-worsened-while-opinions-of-china-have-improved-in-many-surveyed-countries/ 

South China Morning Post. (2026, February 22). Why Americans are ‘becoming Chinese’ [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FmeoCECiyVE 

Statista. (2025a, November 28). Public views on U.S. favorability, by country 2014. https://www.statista.com/statistics/233020/global-views-on-us-favorability/ 

Statista. (2025b, November 28). Views on the United States and China worldwide 2025, by country. https://www.statista.com/statistics/1480392/opinion-us-china-world-country/ 

Urry, J. (2002). The tourist gaze. SAGE.

World Bank Group. (2023, September 25). Lifting 800 Million People Out of Poverty – New Report Looks at Lessons from China’s Experience. World Bank. https://www.worldbank.org/en/news/press-release/2022/04/01/lifting-800-million-people-out-of-poverty-new-report-looks-at-lessons-from-china-s-experience 

Countdown to 2026 Fifa World Cup: The Universality of Joy and Rupture of the Fifa World Cup Final 2022

By Patrick LUO

Source: the Atlantic

December 18, 2022. World Cup Final in Qatar. Argentina vs France. Penalty shootout to decide. 

The Argentines must score this kick to win. Moments later…. The players run towards Montiel, the decisive kicker…..  The French stood with their faces dejected. Outside of the stadium: Argentina in tears of joy, France in tears of bittersweetness; the world in ecstasy.

In total 1.5 billion watched that tournament final on their televisions — that itself is almost 20% of the global population of 8 billion. This snapshot demonstrates that the World Cup Final is more than a game; rather, an experience that takes humanity to unprecedented emotional depths.

Indeed. A tournament final can unite polarised and fractured nations together through collective emotions.For Argentina, the tears of joy unite them in a rare glimpse of joy amidst one of the worst modern economic crises. Inflation had reached 3 digits and many citizens lost hope as their savings were wiped out along with their purchasing power.  Moreover,  Argentina went through periods between democracy and military juntas. The last junta from 1974 to 1983, saw more than 20,000 jailed, tortured, killed or disappeared. Therefore, this victory also reminded Argentines that their country was not just instability but grit and passion, through the player’s hard won victory.

For France, the tears of bittersweetness united them amidst the question of what counts as French, given France has become a much more multiethnic society. The latter was proven the winner as the French players from mostly migrant backgrounds fought until the very last minute of the final.

Liberty in taking initiative even when losing,

Equality in players being selected for merit,

Fraternity in players united in pursuing that one trophy that was so close, yet so far. 

The final itself wasn’t just about national narratives, but individual narratives that prove that football ensures the most deserving talents don’t go to waste.

For example, Messi — the captain of the winning Argentine team in that final — almost stopped practising football completely as his family was unable to pay for his growth hormone deficiency treatments — a condition that stops height growth. Thanks to his talent and relentless drive, a Spanish Club — FC Barcelona — promised to recruit him and pay for the treatment.  

For Mbappe, the French player who scored two goals in that final,he started from the most marginalised outer neighbourhoods of Paris. However, he found the spark with portraits of all time greats, which turned into relentlessness that attracted the French national team’s focus. 

For the host country of the final, Qatar, the development of futuristic stadiums and the improvement of transport systems and of housing have moved it beyond the caricature of a small oil-rich nation, but rather a small oil-rich nation that can host a seismic and global event like the World Cup.

For the Global South, the message from Qatar was “If they can host the world, the world could reshape the view of that host country”.

The next edition of the World Cup Final will take place this summer in 2026. Teams, players and hosts will change, but never the stories of joy, redemption, suffering and pride.

Reframing Disability: From Individual Burden to Structural Failure

By Gabriele CEPAVICIUTE

The 1994 American comedy-drama film “Forrest Gump”, directed by Robert Zemeckis, tells the story of a man who moves through life by constantly adapting to the world around him. Early in the film, a young Forrest, wearing leg braces and being chased by other children, is urged forward with the now-iconic line: “Run, Forrest, run!” The braces fall off, and this moment is framed as liberation. What follows is a life defined by movement: running through school, into the Vietnam War, and even across the country. For many viewers, this is an inspiring story of perseverance and “overcoming” limitations such as disability through determination. However, this raises an important question: if disability is understood as a “challenge”, is it really the individual who faces it, or is it something society has imposed? 

Disability is often presented as an individual struggle, an obstacle to be overcome, yet much of this “struggle” does not emerge from the body itself, but from the environment in which that body exists. A wheelchair does not prevent movement, but stairs do. Individual learning needs alone do not exclude the student, but rigid education systems do. If disability was purely an individual limitation, there would not be such consistent patterns of exclusion. According to The United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation (UNESCO), children with disabilities are two to three times more likely to be out of school than their non-disabled peers. Similarly, workplaces that lack basic accomodations—such as flexible schedules, assistive technologies, or accessible infrastucture—create barriers that have little to do with ability or willingness to work. The World Health Organization (WHO) estimates that around 16% of the global population lives with a disability, yet employment rates for this group remain between 30% to 50%, compared to about 75% for non-disabled individuals. What is framed as a personal limitation is therefore the result of collective decisions about whose needs are prioritized. 

Despite this, the dominant societal response to disability is not change, but emotional reaction. People with disabilities are often met with sympathy or admiration, to the extent that even ordinary actions, such as going to the grocery store independently, are framed as extraordinary. While this may appear as compassionate, it is ultimately passive. It acknowledges difficulty without questioning its cause, allowing observers to feel moral without requiring them to act. In this sense, the expression of “overcoming” plays a crucial role, because to describe disability as a “challenge” suggests that difficulty is inherent, while describing individuals as “overcoming” frames the obstacle as internal rather than structural. In contrast, accessibility demands something less comfortable—it requires redesigning spaces, policies and redistributing resources. In many European cities, historic buildings remain inaccessible due to preservation priorities, highlighting how exclusion is maintained in the name of tradition. Accessibility, however, shifts responsibility from individuals to institutions, where decision-makers often do not experience these barriers themselves. This is why sympathy is more common—it costs nothing. It is far easier to turn to emotions and admire individuals for overcoming obstacles than to remove those obstacles altogether.

Finally, if the problem is structural, then the solutions must be structural as well. Accessibility cannot be treated as a luxury, but must be integrated into society as a natural part of it. This includes designing spaces that are accessible from the start, rather than rebuilding them later, and consulting people with disabilities directly. Research by the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) suggests that up to 40% of the population benefits from accessible design at some point in their lives, including elderly individuals, parents with strollers and those with temporary injuries. This challenges the assumption that accessibility is a “special accommodation”, instead of being a public good. The goal is not to make people with disabilities better at adapting to the world, but to create a world that does not require constant adaptation in order to belong.

There is a reason why “Forrest Gump” remains so widely known. Much like its famous line, “Life is like a box of chocolates—you never know what you’re gonna get,” the film presents uncertainty as something to be accepted rather than questioned. It offers comfort, especially to those who are not required to face systemic barriers themselves. It reassures audiences that perseverance is enough, and that individuals can succeed without the world changing. However, this comes at a cost: it shifts attention away from structures that make succeeding inaccessible in the first place. Disability is not a personal failure to overcome, but a reflection of a world that has been built without everyone in mind. And if this world can be constructed, it can also be changed. For this reason the “challenge” is not in the people who have a disability, but the society that creates these barriers.

The Politics of Time Zones

By Le Xuan YEO

Crossing the Channel Tunnel from the United Kingdom to France in February meant turning my clock forward by an hour. Yet, in China, as far as I travelled across the whole country, the time zone remained the same, at GMT +8. And now, as I turn my clock forward once again for daylight savings on 29 March, one question stuck with me: are time zones more than just geographical boundaries and circumstances? 

Time zones are often treated as a neutral and technical solution to the problem of how to standardise time across a rotating planet. Sailors had always needed a chronometer and accurate timing to calculate longitude. Moreover, before the 19th century, time zones were local since cities and towns set their clocks using local sundials, creating a patchwork of times even within relatively small regions. This system functioned well enough until the expansion of railways and telecommunication demanded coordination across long distances. The need for synchronization — particularly to prevent train collisions and scheduling chaos — led to the creation of standardised time zones. 

The establishment of global time zones was formalized at the International Meridian Conference of 1884, where world powers agreed to adopt a prime meridian in Greenwich, England with Greenwich Mean Time (GMT). Meanwhile, France, which wanted the meridian to run through the Paris Observatory, continued using the Paris Meridian until 1911. This is because France had its own strong scientific tradition and hence, having the meridian was partly about national prestige and influence. After all, by centering global time on the GMT, Britain had effectively inscribed its influence into the temporal order of the modern world. 

Today, time zones continue to mirror political authority rather than geographic logic. De jure, time zones should follow longitudinal lines, roughly fifteen degrees apart. Yet, de facto, they zigzag across maps, bending to accommodate national borders, economic ties and cultural affiliations. For one, China is the largest sovereign nation in the world that officially only observes the time zone of GMT +8. Despite being almost as wide as the continental United States, a single time zone has been maintained because of the legacy of the Chinese Communist Party’s desire for unified control. This results in practical inconveniences, such as for cities where the sun does not come up until 10am or later, to restaurants staying open for dinner until the wee hours past midnight.

Daylight saving time (DST) introduces another layer of politics, as while originally promoted as a way to conserve energy and make better use of daylight, it has become a contentious issue in many countries. Governments must weigh competing interests: businesses that benefit from extended evening daylight, farmers who often oppose clock changes, and citizens concerned about health and sleep disruption. In 2018, the European Commission proposed abolishing DST since public consultations showed that 84% of 4.6 million respondents across the bloc supported scrapping it. Nonetheless, despite strong public support, the European Union has failed to reach consensus on this issue. It has been said that studies will be prepared to support decision-making but this has mostly been a farce on the EU’s part. The main arguments against eliminating DST is that allowing each country to choose its own permanent time could disrupt the synchronization of the single market, which is considered essential for avoiding significant economic losses.

In some cases, time zones have become flashpoints for domestic political debate, especially when official clock times create disruptions in daily life or differ from the schedules of key economic partners. The Department of Transportation in the United States sets time zones, taking into account the “convenience of commerce” when deciding where to draw lines. This means that regions are often grouped together based on economic ties rather than longitudinal position, producing irregular boundaries that sometimes split states or closely connected communities. 

For example, for many years in Indiana, timekeeping practices have been historically fragmented, with different counties observing different combinations of time zones and daylight saving time. This made things confusing for people who lived in one time zone but worked in another, because they had to keep changing their schedules and making sure they knew when meetings were. The situation became politically contentious and led to a statewide reform in 2005 that standardized the observance of DST. However, even after this change, some counties continued to petition for shifts between Eastern and Central Time, and communities continue to lobby to have time zone boundaries redrawn. This illustrates how strongly local communities feel about aligning their clocks with their economic and social networks, which can be hard for governments to balance given competing priorities. 

Time zones, in this sense, are not just measured, they are lived, and changes to it can feel deeply personal. And this is perhaps why humankind has sought to use it not just as a means of maintaining power, but also as a way to promote cooperation and connectivity in the world that we live in. 

The Dictator is Dead, Long Live the Dictator: Why Fascism in Spain Didn’t Die With Franco

By Asier TRASPADERNE

On Nov. 20, 1975, Francisco Franco, Spain’s dictator since 1939, died comfortably in the “La Paz” Hospital in Madrid. While his death, announced on national television by a teary PM Carlos Arias Navarro, brought joy and relief to many; it was also mourned by thousands across the nation. Following the end of the fascist regime, Spain underwent an astonishingly peaceful and swift democratic transition, and is today one of the most socially advanced countries in the Western world in terms of democracy, human rights and social liberties. Nevertheless, following the trend of rising far-right discourse and representation in most of the European continent, what makes this upsurge in Spain different to those in Germany, Italy or Portugal?

Unlike in these countries, Spain’s dictator didn’t fall. Franco’s regime wasn’t uprooted by a popular uprising nor was it put to trial. Franco was never caught trying to leave the country through the Pyrenees with his wife and strung up in the town square to be beaten up by the people. Unlike Hitler, Mussolini or Salazar, Franco died in a hospital bed, receiving quality medical treatment, after having lived a long life. The end of his regime wasn’t the result of popular dissent or the people’s desire to live more freely; the dictatorship in Spain ended purely because Franco, after 36 years in power, died.

Spain’s transition to a democracy over the years that followed Franco’s death was a feat in and of itself, but it cannot be ignored that this move away from totalitarianism, unlike in the other countries mentioned above, was not born out of a general longing for democracy. 

When observing the end of fascist regimes in other European nations and the immediate aftermath, Spain stands out. In Germany, the end of the Nazi regime was followed by the Nuremberg trials, and Nazi symbology remains illegal in modern-day Germany. In Italy, Mussolini’s downfall was followed by a popular vote which resulted in a new republican state that outlawed the reorganization of the Fascist Party in any form and glorification of fascist leaders in 1952. In Portugal, the Carnation Revolution ultimately resulted in the adoption of the 1976 constitution, which prohibits fascist ideology in Article 46(4). In all these cases, there has been a clear acknowledgment of the pain and atrocities committed during each country’s respective fascist regime.

Spain, however, took a different path. While the transitions mentioned above were carried out by outsiders of the regimes that preceded them, the Transición in Spain was led by the very heirs of Franco’s regime. King Juan Carlos I was Franco’s successor, appointed and trained personally by him, who intended for him to continue his legacy. The move towards a democratic regime was purely strategic; a result of international pressure, fear of isolation and panic that a similar revolution to Portugal’s would show the fragility of the regime. Adolfo Suárez, who successfully led a peaceful transition after being appointed as head of government by the king, and is today celebrated in Spain as a champion of democracy, had previously held important political positions under Franco. Moreover, legal penalization of Franco-era apology and symbolism (such as the regime’s flag) was not immediately adopted. It wasn’t until 2007 when the first Historical Memory Law was passed, followed by the Democratic Memory Law in 2022, which recognized victims of the Civil War and dictatorship, explicitly condemned the 1936 coup and the Franco regime and strengthened reparative measures. Both laws caused turmoil among right-wing and far-right groups alike. Thus, one thing is clear: although Spain did eventually criminalize Franco apologism, this was not done immediately after the fall of the regime, and cannot be understood as a direct or inherent outcome of the regime’s collapse.

All these differences are what make the rise of far-right political parties in Spain, such as Vox, all the more worrying. While most of their voters are just your standard radical citizens in areas such as immigration or family, a decent chunk are more than just that; they are nostalgic for the dictatorship. And why wouldn’t they be? 

The Spanish educational system has—for the longest time—only vaguely condemned Franco’s totalitarian regime, with limited legal persecution for public expression of fascist ideology aligned with francoist ideals. Moreover, Franco’s mausoleum in the Valley of the Fallen, built using slave labor from political prisoners, remains open to the public, not as a reminder of what the dictatorship was, but as a site where people mourn the dictator who died aged 82 after living a full, long life. And how could people not openly express their nostalgia for the regime when Vox deputies in parliament make claims such as: “the period following the Civil War was not a dark period, […] but a period of reconstruction, progress and reconciliation.”

For all these reasons, the recent electoral popularity of Vox cannot be classified as purely contingent like the rise of AfD, Chega, or Fratelli d’Italia in Germany, Portugal and Italy respectively. How could we not expect a resurgence of the far-right when Franco’s dictatorship simply died down with him and wasn’t followed by its systemic rejection? In Spain, this rise isn’t just a political shift; it is a normalization of fascism that is being increasingly accepted by society—alarmingly so—rendering it an outlier case among comparable cases and significantly more concerning.

Sources

Social Progress Imperative. (n.d.). Social Progress Index. https://www.socialprogress.org/social-progress-index

Le Monde. (2025, April 3). In Spain, schools overlook the Civil War and Franco’s dictatorship. https://www.lemonde.fr/en/international/article/2025/04/03/in-spain-schools-overlook-the-civil-war-and-franco-s-dictatorship_6739787_4.html

Euronews. (2022, October 6). Spain approves law banning praise of former dictator Francisco Franco. https://www.euronews.com/2022/10/06/spain-approves-law-banning-praise-of-former-dictator-francisco-franco

El País. (2024, November 26). Un diputado de Vox hace apología del franquismo en el Congreso: “Fue una etapa de reconstrucción, de progreso y de reconciliación”. https://elpais.com/videos/2024-11-26/un-diputado-de-vox-hace-apologia-del-franquismo-en-el-congreso-fue-una-etapa-de-reconstruccion-de-progreso-y-de-reconciliacion.html

El País. (2023, July 23). Election in Spain: PP wins, PSOE resists and the right-wing bloc falls short of majority. https://english.elpais.com/spain/2023-07-23/election-in-spain-pp-wins-psoe-resists-and-the-right-wing-bloc-falls-short-of-majority.html