The image depicts American TikTok users transitioning to the Chinese social media platform Xiaohongshu, also known as “Red Note,” shown on a phone screen. Photo credit: VCG via Getty Images. During a recent layover in Tokyo on my way from China to the U.S., I found myself contemplating which ramen spot to visit and catching up with friends, when I was halted by a stern middle-aged border agent insisting I needed a visa for Japan. While I knew this wasn’t the case based on official regulations, my lack of Japanese language skills prevented me from arguing. Feeling stranded and unsure of my next step, I turned to Red Note for help. Thanks to informative posts from others who had faced similar situations, I discovered the process for obtaining a “shore pass” at a specific counter, allowing me to spend 72 hours in Japan instead of being stranded like Tom Hanks in The Terminal. This is just one example of how Red Note has come to the rescue in obscure situations.
In light of the impending U.S. ban on TikTok, American social media users seeking refuge have flocked to Red Note, where they are greeted with Chinese memes, food and pet photos, street views, and even Taylor Swift lyrics. English-language guides are assisting them in navigating the app. While Red Note has now become the top free app in the U.S., it has long been known for catering to the niche interests and hobbies of middle-class Chinese users, serving as a lifestyle guide for dining, travel, and addressing various queries.
The ongoing digital migration, propelled by the #TikTokrefugee hashtag, is likely to be a short-lived phase, necessitating a swift resolution from Beijing, Washington, or Red Note itself. From a business standpoint, Red Note has achieved what ByteDance, the owner of TikTok, has aspired to for years—gaining overseas users effortlessly. While ByteDance introduced a similar app, Lemon8, and incentivized users to post on it, it has struggled to retain users compared to Red Note, which has now risen to the second spot in the U.S. app store.
Despite the popularity of Red Note, the question remains why more users are not turning to platforms like Weibo, Bilibili, Kwai, or Douyin. Red Note, founded in 2013 by Stanford University graduates Mao Wenchao and Qu Fang as a shopping guide for women, has since evolved into a lifestyle influencer for a vast audience of around 300 million users, including many well-educated individuals and English-speaking diaspora. The platform fosters a community where users exchange value and feedback, much like the assistance I received at the airport.
Notably, Red Note stands out as the most apolitical social platform in China. Even on the day of Xi Jinping’s visit to the U.S., the platform’s trending topics were focused on personal relationships and cultural aspects, rather than political matters like other Chinese apps.
Alarm, hostility, or, at best, indifference. Currently, the majority of posts on Red Note revolve around topics like food, pets, and everyday individuals. However, what will occur if political activists opt to utilize the platform to amplify their messages? And more importantly, what will happen if American users, accustomed to freedom of speech, seek to fact-check the news they hear regarding China, specifically concerning Tibet, Xinjiang, Taiwan, or labor rights?
The blend of Western and Chinese users behind the “Great Firewall” has presented unprecedented regulatory challenges that neither China nor the U.S. have confronted before. Prior to Red Note gaining popularity among Americans, China could easily block any app operating on its territory. But how does this dynamic shift now?
As of Wednesday, a trending Weibo post may have unveiled a potential solution: “Red Note is urgently seeking English content moderators [Chinese].”
Censorship in China has escalated since Xi assumed office in 2012, with stricter measures such as enhanced online real-name verification and the suppression of prominent figures including economists, law firms, and even stock analysts. The somewhat apolitical user base of Red Note has shielded it thus far. Nonetheless, in recent times, there has been an uptick in emotional narratives detailing economic hardships, the dissemination of content banned by state media, and the sharing of posts critical of Chinese officials and policies. The influx of American users to Red Note could compel Beijing to closely monitor the platform.
China’s censorship tactics have continuously adapted to the prevailing circumstances. During my middle school years in the early 2000s, I participated in a cultural exchange program by sending five postcards to Ohio, receiving only one in return. I often pondered whether my government had intercepted the others. In 2008, I eagerly followed American Idol contestants on Facebook, only to have my access blocked a year later by Beijing. Fast forward to 2021, my excitement was palpable when Clubhouse was accessible in mainland China, allowing for open discussions on political matters among Chinese users. However, this newfound liberty was short-lived, lasting a mere two weeks.
Despite the undeniable reality of the U.S. TikTok ban and censorship in China, individuals consistently find alternative means to connect. If not through TikTok or Red Note, then through other channels.
For further inquiries, please contact us at letters@time.com.
