Ni hao, we’re all Chinese now.
Or at least that’s what they claim on TikTok, where a trend called “Chinamaxxing” has taken off in the West.
Chinese wellness practices, once associated with the tacky and geriatric, have suddenly found themselves in vogue, largely among Americans.
From warm apple-boiled water to indoor slippers and longevity exercises, people are sharing videos of themselves “learning to be Chinese”. Many come with the Fight Club-inspired caption “you met me at a very Chinese time in my life”, or the hashtag #newlychinese.
As Donald Trump shakes up the world order, the Chinese Communist Party has welcomed this boost to the country’s image.
Chinamaxxing is certainly adding more gloss to the recent flourish of Chinese soft power. Over the past year we’ve seen the world clamour for Labubu dolls, wait in line at brand new stores to buy Mixue bubble tea and Luckin coffee, and scroll through their friends’ holiday feeds in the “cyberpunk city” of Chongqing.
Some say Chinamaxxing stems from young Americans’ disenchantment with their own country, although it’s unclear how much that is really driving the trend.
But like so many internet trends, this one hardly paints the full picture. It’s a celebration of memes and fleeting moments that make up just one slice of Chinese life. Beyond that are young people who, like their American counterparts, are also worried about their future in a sluggish economy and a fast-changing world.
A very Chinese time in our lives
Some Chinese youth may find it strange that parts of their culture – long seen as “uncool” in the Western imagination – are now the object of fascination. Some may find it offensive that Westerners on TikTok are facetiously claiming they’ve been “diagnosed as Chinese”.
But others say Chinamaxxing strikes a different note from derogatory jokes like “bing chilling” – where the punchline is ex-wrestler John Cena’s stilted Mandarin pronunciation – or the “social credit” meme that mocks the Chinese government’s restrictions on personal freedoms.
This time, Chinese people are in on the joke – not the butt of it.
One of the most influential figures behind the Chinamaxxing meme is Sherry Zhu, a Chinese-American TikTok content creator who regularly shares traditional wellness tips with her “Chinese baddies”.
“Tomorrow you’re turning Chinese,” she tells her 740,000 TikTok followers. “And I know that sounds intimidating, but there is no point in fighting it now.”
Few could have seen this coming.
It was not that long ago when the Covid pandemic sparked a wave of Sinophobia. Chinese diaspora spoke of racism and how people were avoiding the community and their businesses.
Then a stunned world watched Beijing put its cities into hellish lockdowns. Reports emerged of residents running out of food and pleading for help from inside their sealed-off neighbourhoods. The restrictions ended only in early 2023 after rare protests. By then expats had left China in droves, many of them saying too much had changed.
There was also an exodus from Hong Kong, where Beijing’s control was reshaping the city. This, along with China’s growing power and assertiveness, strained the relationship with the West, even as the world’s reliance on the Chinese economy became clear.
Meanwhile, China’s investments in tech, infrastructure and exports began to pay off – and became more visible as it reopened post pandemic, relaxing visa rules to bring back tourists.
It was hard to miss: glitzy skyscrapers, a sprawling high-speed rail network, highways packed with electric vehicles, and a boom in green energy, robotics and artificial intelligence. Chongqing – a humid southwestern metropolis which once made global headlines for a corruption scandal and murder – turned popular and cool.
There have been other, smaller triumphs. Young people around the world are snatching Adidas Tang-style jackets off the shelves, bingeing on Chinese micro-dramas and experimenting with powdery make-up looks flaunted by Chinese girls and women on Douyin, China’s version of TikTok.
“As a Chinese person who has been online throughout years and years of heavy Sinophobia, it felt refreshing to have the mainstream opinion finally shift regarding China,” Claire, a Chinese-Canadian TikTok user, tells BBC Chinese.
The 22-year-old, who shares political content on TikTok and would only reveal her first name for that reason, says, for her, the “critical juncture” was last year.
That was when she noticed a shift in attitudes about China. A wave of Americans arrived on RedNote, a popular Chinese social media app, ahead of a TikTok ban in the US.
Within days memes became the currency of these American “TikTok refugees” as two worlds that rarely interact because of China’s internet firewall were brought closer.
A dimming American Dream
“These young people have watched their physical reality remain frozen while China built entire cities,” says Afra Wang, a tech writer and podcaster.
“When you can’t build high-speed rail but you can scroll through videos of Chinese infrastructure, of course the future starts to look Chinese.”
For observers like her, it’s no coincidence that Chinamaxxing comes as the American Dream seems to be dimming.
Americans who came of age after the Iraq War, the 2008 global financial crisis or even the 6 January 2021 Capitol riot face a job market disrupted by globalisation and then AI, Wang says: “American exceptionalism was never something they lived.”
