Wikipedia Deep Dive

Internet in China

15 min read

Across the Great Wall

On September 20, 1987, a computer in Beijing sent a message to Germany. The text read: "Across the Great Wall, towards the rest of the world." It was China's first electronic communication with the global network—though technically not the internet as we know it, since it didn't use the standard protocols that define the modern web.

The phrase proved prophetic in ways its authors couldn't have imagined.

Today, more than a billion people in China use the internet. That's roughly one in five internet users on the entire planet. China became the country with the most people online back in 2008, and it has held that position ever since. As of late 2024, about 77.5 percent of China's population—1.09 billion individuals—regularly access the digital world.

But here's the twist that makes China's internet story fascinating: the country built the largest online population on Earth while simultaneously constructing elaborate barriers between its citizens and the rest of the digital world. That original email's dream of crossing the Great Wall became both literally true and metaphorically complicated.

From Elite Hobby to Mass Medium

The internet didn't arrive in China as a democratic technology. In its early years, from roughly 1995 to 2004, going online was almost exclusively an urban phenomenon. The typical Chinese internet user was young, male, well-educated, and either wealthy or at least middle class. They worked professional jobs in China's biggest cities. The countryside might as well have existed in a different century.

The numbers tell the story starkly. By 2003, fewer than 0.2 percent of rural Chinese had ever used the internet. That's not a typo—less than one in five hundred people in the countryside had experienced what was becoming routine for city dwellers.

Then the government decided to change this.

In 2004, the Ministry of Industry and Information Technology launched something called the Connecting Every Village Project. The name captured the ambition: bring telecommunications and internet access to rural China, village by village. Starting in late 2009, the program began constructing what were called telecenters—small facilities equipped with at least one telephone, one computer, and an internet connection. By 2011, roughly 90,000 of these telecenters had been built across rural China. That same year, 89 percent of administrative villages had some form of internet access.

The transformation accelerated. By 2018, 96 percent of administrative villages had fiber optic networks, and 95 percent had access to 4G mobile networks.

The Mobile Revolution

Something unexpected happened as China connected its villages: the mobile phone became more important than the personal computer.

In most wealthy countries, people first experienced the internet through desktop computers, then laptops, and eventually smartphones. China's path was different. Mobile phones and mobile data became affordable enough that many Chinese people skipped the computer era entirely. Their first internet experience came through a device that fit in their pocket.

By 2013, 500 million Chinese people were accessing the internet through cell phones. The number of people using dial-up connections—remember those?—peaked in 2004 and collapsed afterward. As of late 2023, the statistics are striking: 99.9 percent of Chinese internet users access the web through mobile phones. Desktop computers? Only 33.9 percent. Laptops? Just 30.3 percent.

This mobile-first development had profound social consequences. It brought the internet to people who might never have afforded a computer or had the technical knowledge to set one up. Women, younger people, those with less formal education, and rural residents all gained access faster through mobile than they would have through traditional computing. The demographics of Chinese internet users gradually shifted from that early profile of elite urban males toward something more representative of the country as a whole.

Today, the gender split among Chinese internet users is nearly even: 51.2 percent male, 48.8 percent female.

The Architecture of Control

To understand China's internet, you need to understand something that sets it apart from almost every other country's digital infrastructure: the Chinese government owns all the pathways through which internet traffic flows.

In most countries, private companies own and operate the physical infrastructure of the internet—the cables, the data centers, the exchange points where different networks meet. In China, these access routes belong to the state. Private companies and individuals don't own bandwidth; they rent it.

Four major national networks form what's called the "backbone" of China's internet: CSTNET, ChinaNet, CERNET, and CHINAGBN. The dominant telecommunications providers—China Telecom, China Unicom, and China Mobile—control the internet exchange points. All incoming traffic from the outside world must pass through these chokepoints.

For years, China connected to the global internet through just three access points, located in Beijing, Shanghai, and Guangzhou. In January 2015, seven new access points were added. This might sound like opening doors, but it also meant more doors that could be monitored and controlled.

This architecture enables what's commonly called the Great Firewall—a massive system of internet censorship that blocks access to numerous foreign websites. The name plays on the original Great Wall, of course, but it's also a dark joke about that hopeful 1987 email promising to cross barriers and reach the world.

The Rules of Engagement

The Cyberspace Administration of China, often abbreviated as CAC, serves as the country's primary internet regulator and censor. It coordinates enforcement among various government ministries, each with its own role: the Ministry of Industry and Information Technology handles technical and licensing matters, the State Administration for Market Regulation deals with business practices, and the Ministry of Public Security focuses on preventing cyberattacks.

Understanding why China regulates its internet so heavily requires understanding how Chinese policymakers think about digital space. The concept they embrace is "internet sovereignty"—the idea that a nation has the right and responsibility to govern digital activities within its borders just as it governs physical territory.

This philosophy prioritizes what Chinese officials call cybersecurity over what Western observers might call personal data protection or freedom of expression. The two are not the same thing, though they're often conflated in debates about internet freedom.

Chinese concern about cybersecurity intensified dramatically after 2013, when Edward Snowden's disclosures revealed extensive American intelligence activities targeting China. Whatever you think about Snowden, his revelations demonstrated that the United States was conducting sophisticated surveillance operations against Chinese targets. Chinese policymakers concluded they needed to take digital security far more seriously.

In 2014, the Communist Party formed the Cybersecurity and Information Leading Group as a direct response. The 2017 Cyber Security Law followed, establishing significant requirements that data about Chinese citizens be stored within China—a practice called "data localization." If you're a company operating in China and collecting information about Chinese users, that information generally needs to stay in China, beyond the reach of foreign governments.

The Crackdown and Recalibration

For years, China's approach to its technology industry was relatively hands-off. The government wanted to encourage innovation and the growth of what officials called the "big data economy." Chinese tech companies like Alibaba, Tencent, and ByteDance grew into global giants during this permissive period.

Then came 2020 and 2021.

Under President Xi Jinping, the regulatory environment tightened dramatically. Two major national data laws were passed in 2021, along with numerous regulatory guidelines. The government broadened its enforcement powers and increased penalties for violations involving personal data. Tech executives found themselves summoned to meetings and instructed to change business practices. Companies were told they could no longer block links to competitors—a practice that had been common as tech giants tried to trap users within their own ecosystems.

The crackdown was real and consequential. Billions of dollars in market value evaporated from Chinese tech stocks. Some prominent executives stepped back from public roles.

But then, after mid-2023, the pendulum swung back somewhat. The government eased its regulatory intervention in e-commerce and began issuing more supportive policies. The balance between control and growth remained delicate, but officials seemed to recognize they had perhaps squeezed too hard.

You Must Be Who You Say You Are

One of the most distinctive features of China's internet is the real-name system. The principle is simple: if you use internet services in China, the service provider must know who you actually are.

This started formally on December 28, 2012, when the Standing Committee of the National People's Congress adopted a decision requiring service providers to collect identity information from users. It applied to phone services, internet access, and especially posting on social media.

The system expanded over subsequent years. In 2015, the Cyberspace Administration announced provisions requiring real-name registration. This was codified into law in 2016. Starting that year, cell phone users in mainland China had to register their actual names. In 2017, regulations required online platforms to verify users' real identities when they registered.

In 2025, China took another step: launching a national online identity authentication system. Chinese internet users can now submit their personal information to receive an "Internet certificate"—a unique code that serves as proof of identity across online services. Think of it like a digital ID card for the internet.

The implications are profound. Anonymous speech, which has been crucial to political dissent and whistleblowing throughout history, becomes essentially impossible under such a system. The government argues this prevents misinformation and makes people accountable for what they say online. Critics argue it chills free expression and enables surveillance.

Protecting Children from Screens

Long before concerns about children's screen time became a global conversation, China was implementing policies to address what it saw as problematic youth internet use.

The trigger was what officials characterized as parent-child conflicts over online gaming. In 2002, the government passed legislation forbidding internet cafes from admitting minors. When the Law on Protection of Minors was amended in 2006, it included language about the family and state guiding children's online behavior. The law placed "indulgence in the Internet" alongside misbehaviors like smoking and vagrancy.

In 2009, the government tried something more ambitious: requiring that filtering software called "Green Dam Youth Escort" be pre-installed on personal computers sold throughout most of China. The software would help parents monitor their children's online activities. But this effort triggered significant public criticism over privacy concerns—even Chinese citizens have limits on how much monitoring they'll accept—and the government abandoned the effort after several months.

The state continues to require online games to set time limits for minors. If you're a young person in China trying to play video games late into the night, the game itself may lock you out.

The Entertainment Superhighway

What do a billion Chinese internet users actually do online?

Kaiser Kuo, a prominent commentator on Chinese technology, has called China's internet the "entertainment superhighway." The characterization captures something real. Chinese internet users spend enormous amounts of time on entertainment—videos, music, games, social media.

But that's not the whole story. The internet also functions as the first genuinely public forum where Chinese citizens can exchange ideas with each other at scale. Within the constraints of censorship, it's a space for conversation that didn't exist before.

The numbers reveal what matters most to users. As of 2023, the most popular internet services in China are instant messaging and mobile messaging applications. In 2020, 99 percent of internet users used instant messaging, and 99.8 percent used mobile messaging apps. Those percentages are essentially universal.

One app dominates: WeChat. As of 2019, 93.5 percent of Chinese internet users had used it. WeChat isn't just a messaging app—it's a platform that integrates messaging, social media, mobile payments, and countless other services. For many Chinese people, it's the primary interface through which they experience the digital world.

A Parallel Digital Universe

Because the Chinese government blocks many foreign websites, China has developed its own parallel versions of virtually every major Western internet service.

Google is blocked in China, so Chinese users rely on Baidu as their primary search engine. Facebook is blocked, so there's WeChat and Weibo. YouTube is blocked, so there's Youku and Bilibili. Twitter is blocked, so there's Weibo. Amazon faces competition from Alibaba and JD.com. The list goes on.

This isn't just about censorship—it's also about opportunity. Chinese entrepreneurs saw that demand for services existed and that foreign competitors couldn't operate freely. They built Chinese alternatives that were often better adapted to Chinese users' preferences anyway.

Interestingly, efforts to establish state-owned search engines have consistently failed. ChinaSo.com, jointly managed by the official Xinhua News Agency and People's Daily, still exists as of 2024 but attracts few users. Another state-run search engine called Jike Search, led by former Olympic ping-pong champion Deng Yaping, failed in 2013. Even in a controlled environment, users gravitate toward services that actually work well rather than services that have government backing.

The E-Commerce Colossus

Since 2013, China has been the world's largest e-commerce market. That's not particularly close to changing.

In 2016, China's domestic e-commerce market was worth an estimated 899 billion dollars. That same year, China accounted for 42.4 percent of all retail e-commerce worldwide—more than any other country. By 2023, nearly half of all online sales globally took place in China.

The scale is difficult to comprehend. As of late 2022, approximately 850 million Chinese individuals shop online. Industries related to e-commerce employ 69 million people in the country. In 2019, online retail represented 21 percent of all retail sales in China—meaning more than one in five purchases happened digitally.

Some local governments have tried to create their own e-commerce platforms to help sell local products. With one exception, these efforts have flopped. The exception is Yiwugo.com, created by the city government of Yiwu along with a state-owned enterprise. Yiwugo focuses on business-to-business transactions rather than consumer sales, which may explain its success where others failed.

Looking Toward the Sky

China's internet story continues to evolve. In April 2020, the National Development and Reform Commission proposed that "satellite internet" should become part of China's new national infrastructure.

By the following month, six major Chinese cities—Shanghai, Beijing, Fuzhou, Chongqing, Chengdu, and Shenzhen—had each proposed plans to support a new satellite internet constellation. The goal: provide internet access to rural areas that might never be cost-effective to reach with ground-based infrastructure.

This represents China's response to developments in other countries. Starting in 2019, SpaceX began deploying its Starlink satellite constellation, which now provides internet access globally. The British company OneWeb launched a similar effort in 2020. These systems offer the tantalizing possibility of internet access anywhere on Earth, beamed down from thousands of satellites in low orbit.

But China has made clear it will not license foreign satellite internet solutions within its jurisdiction. Whatever satellite internet Chinese citizens eventually use, it will be Chinese satellite internet, subject to Chinese regulation and presumably integrated with existing systems of control.

The Uneven Digital Landscape

Despite all the progress, China's internet remains characterized by uneven development. Adoption rates and availability still vary significantly by region and population group. The countryside has come far from those days when less than 0.2 percent of rural residents had ever been online, but gaps persist.

English-language media covering China often use the word "netizen" to refer specifically to Chinese internet users. The term, a blend of "internet" and "citizen," captures something about how the online population is understood as a distinct entity with its own characteristics and concerns.

And those concerns remain largely domestic. Like users in other large, linguistically distinct countries, Chinese internet users tend to focus on content that's relevant to their own society. The Great Firewall certainly contributes to this inward orientation, but language and cultural factors matter too. A billion people generating content in Mandarin creates an enormous amount of material to engage with, even without considering what might exist beyond the walls.

The Message and the Wall

That first email from 1987 has become famous in China. Its message—"Across the Great Wall, towards the rest of the world"—was even displayed on the login screen of QQ Mail as recently as 2018. The phrase resonates because it captures a genuine aspiration: connection, openness, participation in something global.

But the phrase also serves as an unintentional commentary on what followed. China did cross the Great Wall in the sense that it built one of the world's most sophisticated and extensive internet infrastructures. More than a billion people gained access to a revolutionary technology.

At the same time, China built new walls. The Great Firewall restricts what flows in and out. The real-name system ensures the government knows who's saying what. The architecture of state-owned infrastructure means the government maintains ultimate control over the pathways of digital communication.

Whether you see this as a reasonable approach to national security and social stability or as an unacceptable restriction on human freedom depends largely on your values and your assumptions about the relationship between individuals and the state.

What's harder to dispute is the sheer scale of what China has built. A billion people online. The world's largest e-commerce market. Mobile payment systems so advanced that cash has become nearly obsolete in major cities. Video platforms, social networks, and messaging apps used by virtually everyone. A satellite internet program designed to reach the most remote villages.

The internet in China is many things at once: a tool of connection and a tool of control, a space for commerce and a space for surveillance, an entertainment superhighway and a forum for public discourse, a gateway to the world and a wall separating China from it.

Across the Great Wall, towards the rest of the world—and behind a new wall, looking inward at itself.