- The Chinese social media environment is of dual nature, simultaneously providing a space for queer expression and limiting it through censorship.
- Social media is a key factor enabling bottom-up mobilisation and activism among queer Chinese individuals.
- As Chinese social media platforms (such as RedNote) become increasingly popular in the West, it is crucial to understand the way in which their users navigate between freedom of expression and censorship.
- The examples of WeChat, Weibo, RedNote or Douyin highlight the managerial practices and strategies of mass-scale social media platforms and bring to light how systemic inequalities may translate into the digital realm.
Introduction
While for many Chinese netizens, social media acts solely as a mean to
share their private lives with the wider public, for some, it embodies a truly revolutionary
tool for community organising, characterised by a peculiar duality between
freedom of expression and the government-imposed limitations. A gateway for not
only activism, but specifically for education, inspiration, culture and
community-building among marginalised groups, social media offers an
opportunity to connect and establish grounds for cooperation among individuals
while simultaneously battling the restrictive nature of the Chinese digital
sphere. A prominent example of this duality is the online presence of the
Chinese LGBT+ (lesbian, gay,
bisexual, transgender, intersex, queer/questioning, asexual and other terms)
community, which utilises social media platforms to spread awareness on queer
issues, normalise non-heteronormative identities within the digital mainstream,
mobilise LGBT+ people and their allies in collective action and, oftentimes,
simply make a living. This article strives to provide a critical take on queer
visibility and lack thereof in the Chinese digital sphere. It will present the
ways in which Chinese social media offers both opportunities and challenges to
its queer netizens, providing fertile ground for community-building and
activism, while also limiting said activities through censorship and platform
regulations.
Platform overview
This article will examine the queer activity in the Chinese digital
sphere. While it will focus on some of the major social media platforms
operating in China, it will not be able to cover all of the PRC’s existing online
domains. Instead, this article wishes to focus on the following digital platforms:
- Weibo（微博）– a microblogging service resembling X;
- WeChat(微信）– the main communication tool in China, allowing for messaging, payments
and network curation through posting;
- RedNote (小红书) - a social networking platform resembling Instagram, which has been
the centre of online attention since the brief 2025 US TikTok ban, when many
American users “migrated” to the Chinese
platform;
- Douyin (抖音）- a video sharing platform.
Online LGBT+ culture
– regulations and censorship.
Social media allows for LGBT+ creators to share their
joys and struggles publicly, thus actively engaging with the vibrant online
community, increasing the visibility of LGBT+ identities and normalising them
in mainstream culture. However, LGBT+ users face severe restrictions and
censorship while engaging in online content creation. While not all Chinese
platforms are equally restrictive of LGBT+ content – RedNote stands out as one of the most liberal domains – the
highly constraining online environment in China has de-facto forced the
creation of online slang, which allows users to identify themselves as LGBT+
indirectly.
Queer online
terminology
Without having openly discouraged the promotion of queer
content, the most popular Chinese social media platform, WeChat, has come under scrutiny for censoring LGBT+ creators
after deleting several LGBT+ student accounts from its servers back in 2021. Moreover, the 2021 document ‘Rules for Review Standards for Online Short Video
Content’ has forbidden the promotion of content that ‘promotes unhealthy and
non-mainstream views on love and marriage’ on digital domains. This regulation has
paved the way for further censorship on video sharing platforms such as Douyin. Simultaneously, a previously common lesbian hashtag
“les” has disappeared from Weibo in 2019, forcing users to turn to online jargon,
spawning the hashtag’s abbreviated version - “le”. The aforementioned instances
are only a small set of examples highlighting the wider restrictive digital
environment in China, with numerous platforms and domains sharing a similar
struggle with LGBT+ content visibility. As a result, queer Chinese netizens
have resulted to using distinctive online terminology to avoid the far-reaching
censorship practices. Thus, platforms
such as Douyin saw an emergence of ambiguous terms such as #陈乐 ('deriving from the name of Chen Le, a prolific
lesbian influencer), #彩虹 (‘rainbow’) or #拉拉（slang word for ‘lesbian’, originating from the work of
Taiwanese lesbian writer Qiu Miaojin), hinting at the creators sexual or gender identity through
subtext or cultural connotations. The terms commonly used within the Chinese queer communities also found their
way into the digital realm - with labels such as “T” (from ‘tomboy’ -
masculine), “P” (from 婆 - pó, meaning ‘wife’ - feminine) or “H” (androgynous)
being present both on social media and dating apps. Creators also resulted to “self-censoring”,
utilising ambiguous phrases and hashtags that can be used to describe both
friendships and relationships, avoiding statements which could directly imply
same-sex attraction. This obscure online jargon has not only allowed for users
to avoid censorship, but also, ironically, has contributed to the curation of
online LGBT+ culture, represented by a new set of terminology, hashtags, memes
and cultural references. The queer online language has expanded despite – and
perhaps partly because of – the highly restrictive regulations and censorship
present on the Chinese social media platforms.
Normalisation of
queer identities
Social media – for
some, a space for self-expression and community building, for many even a mean
of earning an income – benefits the Chinese LGBT+ community in a number of
ways. A relatively liberal platform, RedNote, has emerged as somewhat of a safe space for many transsexual individuals, who utilise the
domain to express their identity and advocate for their rights. On account of
the convenient recommendation algorithm and the rather liberal set of
regulations on RedNote, hashtags such as #跨性别 or #Transgender raise public awareness on trans
issues, while similar terms face censorship and restrictions on other platforms like WeChat or
Weibo. Harsh restrictions and censorship have also entered video sharing
platforms such as Douyin through the 2021 ‘Anti-Sissy’ Campaign which - despite originally being addressed
at television broadcasters, instructing them to “resolutely put an end to sissy men and other
abnormal esthetics” - has made its way into social media as well. The “Anti-Sissy” Campaign has taken its toll
on Chinese LGBT+ influencers, many of whom have since transformed their online presence to a more gender-conforming
image. Some creators even issued official apologiesafter having their
Douyin accounts deleted. While social media platforms such as RedNote allow for
Chinese LGBT+ individuals to express themselves authentically (or
quasi-authentically), sharing advice on the gender transition process or simply describing
their everyday lives, the top-down systemic regulations – often not even
directed at social media specifically, as in the case of the 2021 “Anti-Sissy”
Campaign” - fuel the growing hostility towards queer people online. Here,
social media acts as both a basis for normalising queer identities within the
wider public and an obstacle for LGBT+ people wishing to express themselves
authentically. This peculiar duality has led queer content creators to using online
jargon, suppressing their identities through ambiguous modes of expression or
even transforming their online presence into a heteronormative one. As such,
social media has served both as a platform enabling and restricting queer
visibility, as a result of the distinctive combination of company regulations
and top-down governmental, systemic influence.
Online activism and
queer mobilisation
Aside from its power to
normalise LGBT+ identities and introduce queer expression into mainstream
culture, social media allows for marginalised individuals to actively advocate
against systemic inequality and oppression. The queer online presence can, of
course, be focused solely on sharing information about the individuals’ life,
or an entirely different topic whatsoever, but in face of systemic oppression even
the private lives – and therefore online personas – of queer individuals become
highly politicised, pushing LGBT+
persons towards activism more often than their heteronormative, cisgender peers. As such,
while entering the online domain, queer folk navigate the aforementioned social
media visibility and censorship and translate their engagement in activism and
advocacy onto the digital realm.
Qiu Bai and other
examples
The most prominent
example of Chinese queer activism online is perhaps the case of Qiu Bai (秋白), a university studentfrom Guangzhou who turned to social media to take a
stand against academic textbooks, which – despite the 2001 removal of homosexuality from the list of mental illnesses in
China - have described homosexuality as a mental disorder. The student, using
the pseudonym Qiu Bai on online forums, sued the Chinese Ministry of Education
(中国国家教育部）four times and has engaged with the broader public through
online platforms, advocating for queer issues and organising online campaigns or
offline actions. Qiu Bai’s legislative struggle against the Education Ministry between
2015-2016 has gained additional exposure through her “#hashtag events”, such as the #MyLoveLetterToThePrincipal action, where
students were encouraged to send postcards to their principals, expressing
their thoughts on LGBT+ rights, or the
“#IHaveHomosexualClassmatesStopTextbookDiscrimination” action, which saw
university students leave objects related to LGBT+ advocacy outside of their
principal’s office). Thanks to her activity on Weibo, Qiu Bai managed to
mobilise university students across China in collective action, which oftentimes departed the online domain and
resulted in physical demonstrations. While a noteworthy case of online LGBT+
activism in China, Qiu Bai is only one of the many instances where queer
Chinese netizens utilised the digital domain to champion for their rights. A RedNote
user, Li Shuning, under the nickname “Rainbow Lawyer” (彩虹律师) has gained
significant online visibility by posting videos offering legal advice for LGBT+
people on issues such as marriage with non-Chinese nationals, inheritance and
guardianship procedures. Meanwhile, a Chinese activist group Queer Squad (based in Germany) has used social media, namely
RedNote, to popularise their events and actions. Queer Squad organisers saw
nearly doublethe amount of participants in their events since
switching from WeChat to RedNote, further proving that when Chinese social
media acts as a tool for community organising, it does so in an unequal manner,
with some platforms providing a more liberal space than others. The instances
of Qiu Bai, the Rainbow Lawyer and Queer Squad visualise social media as a tool
for legislative and political advocacy in a country where such instruments are relatively
sparce.
Online activism
and systemic change
The case of Qiu Bai
highlights the importance of the digital sphere within the topic of LGBT+
activism in China. With online platforms such as Weibo, Qiu Bai was able to
engage numerous individuals in her ‘hashtag events’ and public actions. While her case certainly shows how
digital activity translates into and supports the real-life activism of queer
users (just as Qiu Bai’s online campaigns brought widespread attention to her suing the Chinese Ministry of Education), the direct result
of such online actions remains a crucial question. Through the means of social
media, the young activist mobilised users in political activism through
crowdfunding activities, on-campus actions and offline protests. Qiu Bai
managed to combine the power of digital connectivity with the momentum of her
legislative battle against the Ministry of Education. However, in defiance of
her widespread support, or perhaps in light of it, her case failed. Facing online censorship and political pressure,
many of her fellow activists gave up on their work. Qiu Bai has herself faced,
on one hand, support from the wider community and even some of the textbook
authors (one of whom decided to eradicate the homophobic statements), and on the other extreme
political pressure, with professors advising her not to speak to foreign
journalists. Qiu Bai’s case exposes the critical role of social media as a rare
tool for Chinese citizens to organise and exert pressure on their government.
Nonetheless, it also remains a symbol of the systemic disadvantage posed on
LGBT+ individuals in light of the Chinese political environment. Qiu Bai’s efforts,
albeit unsuccessful from the legislative perspective, did bring people together
in both online and offline LGBT+ activism. Even without being used as a tool
for political mobilisation, social media still allows for LGBT+ individuals to
share information about their lives online, providing a source of emotional backing
to its queer audience. As such, social media remains a tool for Chinese LGBT+
individuals to gain visibility and support in mainstream society. While it certainly cannot
resolve systemic inequality and oppression, the digital sphere may be used to
highlight such issues, actively mobilising netizens in collective action
without the guarantee of substantial legislative or political change.
Conclusion
The cases described
above, ranging from the everyday use of social media by LGBT+ individuals to the
active employment of the online domain for activism and political action,
highlight the remarkable duality of the digital realm in China. From one point
of view, social media offers Chinese LGBT+ users a platform to gain visibility,
create communities, curate a culture and engage in political activism. From the
other, queer Chinese netizens find themselves struggling against extreme
censorship and harsh platform regulations. The opportunity for
community-building and political organising in Chinese social media is
relative, limited and controlled. For every time an LGBT+ individual may use
the online domain to their advantage, another one finds their account suspended
or the rules tightened. For every trans influencer sharing their life on
RedNote, there is another one changing their language or appearance to fit the
heteronormative example set by the “Anti-Sissy Campaign” on Weibo or Douyin. And
while activists such as Qiu Bai may utilise the online sphere to bring further
attention to their cause, their work remains limited by the top-down
regulations and systemic inequalities. While certainly not challenging the rule
of the CCP directly, and thus still not considered a subject for all-out
censorship (LGBT+ content is, after all, still available on Chinese social
media, be it openly or through subtext), queer content in the Chinese digital
sphere experiences a myriad of responses ranging from public encouragement and
support to harassment or discrimination. As such, for Chinese LGBT+ people,
social media both enables and restricts queer visibility, community-building
and mass mobilisation. With Chinese online platforms such as RedNote becoming
more and more popular outside of the sinosphere, it is critical to highlight the
way in which Chinese social media simultaneously benefits and challenges
marginalised groups, specifically, the LGBT+ community.
