The People’s Republic has decided that its citizens require a fresh dose of ideological hygiene. This week, Beijing launched a campaign against the so-called ‘micro-dramas’ that have been flooding Chinese social media. These bite-sized video fables, often no longer than a few minutes, have been charged with promoting soft pornography and a vulgar materialism that would make even a Roman emperor blush.
The authorities claim the crackdown is about protecting the nation’s youth from moral decay. But as a student of history, I see the ghost of every Victorian prude and Comstockian censor marching through the corridors of power. The irony is thick enough to cut with a knife: a country that once championed the iron rice bowl now frets over its citizens watching too many lavish weddings and designer handbags on their phones.
Yet this is not merely a tale of prudery. It is a battle for the soul of a civilisation caught between its revolutionary past and its capitalist present. The micro-drama is the perfect symptom of our age: short, addictive, and utterly devoid of substance.
It is the cultural equivalent of a sugar rush. And like all sugar rushes, it ends in a crash. The Party knows that the real danger is not the sex or the money, but the distraction.
In a world where everyone can be a celebrity for five seconds, who will be left to build the future? The crackdown is therefore necessary, but not for the reasons given. It is a reminder that every society must decide what stories it tells itself.
Rome had its gladiators and orgies. We have our TikToks and micro-dramas. The question is whether censorship is the cure or merely another symptom of the disease.
I suspect that the viewers, like the plebeians of old, will simply find another entertainment. And the censors, ever vigilant, will be there to meet them.
