This post makes a claim about the petition system as it works in China is just performative but doesn't provide any evidence that the claim is true.
I have heard before from an friend who did lobbying in the EU that the feedback system that China has does affect public policy in a way that the DDR (East Germany under Communist rule) didn't have.
It might be that you are right and my friend is wrong, but you provided no reason for why I should believe your claim.
@ChristianKl
You're right — the petition system (信访) isn't entirely ineffective. But I'm right too: its "effectiveness" lies in delaying political collapse, not in protecting citizens' rights.
You posed a neat logical challenge:
"To prove the system is ineffective, you must show that no petition ever had any effect on public policy."
That's like saying: "To prove this glass of water is poisonous, someone must drink it and die."
That's not empiricism. That's a political trap disguised as logic.
The real issue isn’t anecdotal success or failure — it’s about systemic intent and structural incentives:
China's petition system doesn’t exist to improve governance through feedback.
It exists to absorb rage, defuse protests, and identify future threats for targeted suppression.
Counter-evidence logic:
If this were a democratic feedback mechanism, they’d roll out the red carpet — not the riot police.
In the U.S., most petitions go nowhere. True.
But:
In China, the petition system isn't "weak governance" — it's not governance at all.
It's theater. It's a feedback mimicry system with the true goal of information control, social profiling, and political anesthesia.
So I’ll repeat my judgment:
The 信访制度 isn't an “input mechanism” for the people — it's an “exhaust valve” for the Party.
A way to log your rage, contain it, and lock it down.
This is not a "petition system."
This is a mass-distributed anesthetic, disguised as a help desk.
@ChristianKl You mentioned that I didn't provide evidence—so let me offer a real, chilling case:
The case of Wang Ciniu (1991, Henan Province):
Her son was beaten to death while working in a gold mine. After exhausting all local petition channels with no result, Wang Ciniu made a desperate, horrifying choice:
She cut off her own son's head, wrapped it, and took it by train to Beijing, hoping to appeal directly to the central government.
This was not fiction. It was covered in domestic media at the time and triggered high-level attention: State Council Secretary-General Luo Gan personally ordered an investigation. Some local officials and the mine owner were sentenced.
But Wang never received any civil compensation, and continued to petition in vain for years—until she died in despair.
What does this tell us?
As I argued:
China’s petition system is not a channel for citizens to influence policy—it’s a pressure-release valve for the state to manage unrest.
Its purpose is not to solve problems, but to prevent them from becoming political incidents.
You mentioned that “China’s feedback system is better than East Germany’s”? Then let me ask you this:
Was Wang Ciniu’s act a form of feedback—or a human sacrifice to awaken a deaf state?
The fact that you can find examples of petitions that done nothing in no way implies that the petition system has no effect. If you look at Western nations most petitions that the government receives have no effect on public policy.
For your claim to be true, you would need to argue that no petition that filed has an effect on public policy that wouldn't happen if the petition isn't filed.
In most democracies,
the very way people file complaints tells you how well their government works.
You can vote.
You can sue.
You can organize, lobby, or protest.
But in China?
You write a physical letter to Beijing,
then pray someone reads it.
This is called Xinfang — the so-called "petition system."
It sounds like democracy.
It’s not.
In the U.S., mail is everywhere:
bills, contracts, court notices, political organizing.
Mail is part of society’s bloodstream.
In China:
Thus,
when someone mails a complaint to the state,
it’s not normal civic action.
It’s an outlier.
A political anomaly.
The petition system has no binding legal force.
It is:
It functions more like a ritual —
peasants kneeling before an emperor,
begging for mercy.
You don’t get justice.
You get hope.
The system:
And if you’re unlucky?
Your petition can even be used as evidence against you.
This is not about letters themselves.
The fact that mailing a petition is the only "legal" way to file grievances exposes the deep structural collapse of five key systems:
| System | Intended Role | Actual Behavior |
|---|---|---|
| Courts | Protect civil rights | Ignore petitioners |
| Local Governments | Solve problems | Block petitions |
| National Government | Set fair policies | Never receives real signals |
| State Media | Investigate abuses | Covers up or stays silent |
| Parliament | Provide oversight | Exists only on paper |
A petition system is a living exhibit
of five collapsed systems.
Because —
it works. For them.
In short:
Xinfang is not about solving problems.
It’s about managing social risks.
It’s a pressure valve.
It’s a sorting machine.
It’s a political honeypot.
People often say,
"China is authoritarian."
That’s true,
but it’s not specific enough.
China today is a system where:
If you ever doubt this —
just look at the petition system.
It was built to look like democracy,
but it was never designed to deliver justice.
Xinfang is not democracy.
It’s not a broken version of democracy.
It’s the absence of democracy, dressed up as hope.