Ding Yifan
Institute of World Development, Development Research Center of the State Council
Thank you to the organizers for providing me with this opportunity to share my thoughts on Western discourse hegemony and the thinking traps it creates. We are all discussing the future of media and news communication in the Global South. In fact, there are several thinking traps embedded in this topic, and many of us fall into them unconsciously. Only by breaking free from these traps can we begin to see the issues more clearly.
One obvious example is that many of our media outlets are supported by the central government, such as CGTN. However, as soon as we go abroad, others immediately label us as “government-affiliated media,” implying that we are untrustworthy simply because of our affiliation. This labeling makes it impossible to engage in meaningful debate. This is a manifestation of discourse hegemony and a classic thinking trap. If media supported by the government or central authorities is considered biased, then media backed by capital is often even less objective.
Let me offer an example. In the 1970s and 1980s, French television stations were all state-owned. During that period, French TV was relatively objective. After the 1980s, these stations were privatized and sold to individuals or capitalists. It then became clear that their reporting grew less objective, with a distinct capitalist imprint visible in how they covered and analyzed issues.
One of the most striking cases occurred in the early 21st century. From the 1980s into the 2000s, there was a well-known French television host and commentator who had been a prominent figure on TV for over 30 years. When then-President Sarkozy—widely seen as representing the interests of big capital—pushed certain public policies, this host offered some criticism. Immediately afterward, he was dismissed from his position.
The dismissal caused a public outcry in France, but to no avail—it was a decision made by the television station. In the past, during the era of nationalized media, it would have been nearly impossible to dismiss such a figure so casually. State-owned television operated much like a public institution, where journalists and commentators had a certain degree of protection and job security. In contrast, under privatization, capital treats media professionals much more harshly. If your views diverge from theirs, you can be dismissed at once. Therefore, the claim that privatization leads to more neutrality in the media is simply a myth.
What’s more, following privatization, French media have become increasingly less free. Today, regardless of the topic, media outlets seem to speak with one voice, leaving little room for alternative or independent analysis. This is largely because the capital groups behind them have become more concentrated in the hands of a few major conglomerates. One of the most powerful among these is, of course, the well-known News Corporation owned by Rupert Murdoch. Murdoch’s News Corporation has infiltrated the media landscapes of various countries through a range of means. It first penetrated the U.S. media, then moved on to European media, and even attempted to gain influence in the Chinese media sector. Before coming to Shanghai, I had dinner in Beijing with a group of foreigners, including an Australian who had previously worked in the media. He told me that when Murdoch decided to marry Wendi Deng, a Chinese woman, it was a strategic move—a steppingstone intended to open doors into the Chinese media industry.
Clearly, this plan failed. Murdoch invested significant funds in China to persuade the Chinese government to open its media market and allow him to replicate the kind of control he exercised elsewhere. When that failed, so too did his marriage to Wendi Deng. All of these efforts were driven by capital interests and calculations. We often consume tabloid news without realizing the deeper motives behind such events. The belief that media controlled by capital is somehow more neutral than media controlled by the state is a thinking trap that feeds us completely fabricated narratives.
The second major trap—one that developing countries must be particularly cautious of—is the so-called “GDP trap” set by Western media. Gross Domestic Product (GDP), a method for measuring economic size, only emerged in prominence during the 1980s. Prior to the 1970s, comparisons of national economies were typically made using Gross National Product (GNP) rather than GDP. The promotion of GDP was, in essence, a tactic to pressure developing countries into opening their markets to foreign investors. Once investment flowed in, the resulting economic activity would be counted as domestic output, thereby inflating GDP figures. This is the underlying logic behind the emphasis on GDP.
The problem with this approach is that, historically, when we spoke of economic size, we referred to industrial and agricultural output. But under the GDP framework, these sectors gradually lost their importance. Because developed countries have essentially transformed their economies into service-oriented, tertiary-sector-dominated systems, the tertiary sector has grown to an enormous size.
Today, the United States boasts a very high GDP, but more than 80% of it is attributed to the service sector. Within that, apart from finance, the legal sector—including litigation—has grown disproportionately. Yet from the standpoint of political economy, the actual contribution of such sectors to real economic value is highly questionable. Real societal and economic value is generated by industrial and agricultural production. The service sector was originally intended to support and enhance those productive sectors. However, if services grow unchecked—like a cancer—they may end up draining the essence of industry and agriculture. As a result, the share of industry and agriculture shrinks, while services expand continuously. So even though GDP figures may appear impressive, they lack real significance.
The concept of GDP has, in effect, brainwashed much of the academic community, leading many developing countries—including China—to place undue faith in it. In truth, GDP is far from essential and holds little intrinsic significance. Yet this concept has indeed exerted widespread influence across the academic world, making it a classic thinking trap. Everyone seems to act in pursuit of GDP. If, in the future, all countries in the Global South are seduced by this illusion and chase after GDP growth figures, they may indeed achieve large nominal numbers—but with no real meaning. This is a trap we must consciously avoid in our economic development.
The third trap is the prevailing notion that one must choose between the market and the state. In English, this is often phrased as: “There is a trade-off between the market and the state.” But why must there be a forced choice between the two? This framing itself is a thinking trap. It imposes a mental presupposition that you can only choose one or the other.
Fortunately, China’s leaders have not been so dogmatic, although many of our scholars have fallen into this dichotomous mindset. Our leaders have relied more on their own intuition and pragmatism. They have advocated for a “both hands must be strong” approach, or what is often referred to as “walking on two legs.” This simple yet profound dialectic in Chinese philosophy means insisting on both market mechanisms and government intervention, without neglecting either. It is precisely by holding firmly to both that we can understand why China’s market economy has developed with relative stability, despite undergoing numerous crises. As Professor Wen Tiejun has pointed out, we have consistently found solutions amid crises. Had state intervention not been timely in those moments, we might not have been able to overcome those challenges.
The fourth trap lies in the way public opinion in developing countries is manipulated under the banner of ‘development’. This is a major trap set for China and other developing countries. In the past, it was generally recognized that development aid was a responsibility of developed nations—to help support the progress of developing countries. But if we look more closely at how that aid is being allocated today, we see a significant shift. Development aid was once directed toward building infrastructure and improving living standards in the developing world. Now, however, developed countries are providing less and less aid—and increasingly refusing to channel it through the governments of developing nations.
They claim that the governments of developing countries are inefficient and corrupt, and therefore redirect the funds to so-called civil society organizations instead of state institutions.
How is money funneled to so-called civil society? Of course, they provide direct financial support to the media—especially local media and local journalists. More significantly, they channel funds to local non-governmental organizations (NGOs), often distributing the money directly to the heads of local branches. Not long ago, I had dinner with a former leader of a Central Asian country, who told me that while the United States now offers substantial development aid to countries in Central Asia, none of it is given to their governments. Instead, it is directed entirely toward NGOs and media organizations. The purpose of this is to shape public opinion at the local level and use that public opinion to help pro-U.S. candidates rise to power through the electoral system. If the elected official turns out not to be someone aligned with U.S. interests, they can then use this same public opinion infrastructure to manipulate and control the situation—to incite color revolutions, overthrow legally elected governments, and install their own preferred leaders. This is why development aid today is no longer focused on infrastructure building in these countries. Instead, it is aimed at propping up NGOs and media organizations to serve political objectives. This, too, is a trap.
Finally, let’s talk about the so-called “rules-based international order.” This notion exploits a basic human consensus: in any society or religion, people are expected to abide by laws and rules. It sounds reasonable and appeals to our shared values, which makes it easy to win sympathy and acceptance. People naturally assume we should all follow the rules. However, the reality is that most of these so-called “international rules” were established by Western powers in earlier eras—powers that were either colonial empires or imperialist states. These rules were created to entrench their monopoly and maintain long-term colonial control. Now, if you challenge or defy these rules, you are branded as “undisciplined” or “non-compliant.” All of these are thinking traps—constructs designed to hinder our continued development.