@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 信访 were designed for public input, why is “petitioning higher authorities” considered “disrupting public order”?
• Why are petitioners intercepted, disappeared, or locked in black jails?
• Why does the regime employ special units to stop people from submitting petitions to Beijing?

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:

• Does anyone get jailed for submitting them?
• Are there “petitioning blacklists”?
• Are there agents intercepting you from Pennsylvania to D.C.?

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?

• Local petition mechanisms had completely collapsed, forcing her to resort to ritual-like shock to be heard.
• Even when central authorities responded, there was no structural reform or justice, only symbolic punishment.
• The petition system failed to deliver systemic feedback—it merely reacted to spectacle.

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?