Youth growing weary, CCP removes “Are you dead?” in panic

At the beginning of this year, the “Are You Dead?” application, launched last year and renamed Dumu/Demumu, became a sensation in China, drawing attention to the country’s massive single economy and the mental and physical state of solitary individuals.

This application is specifically designed for Chinese, especially urban solitary individuals. Users are required to click a button to check in every 48 hours. If they miss a check-in for two days, the system will immediately notify their emergency contact. While this application provides solace to solitary individuals, it also reflects the current predicament of China’s single economic status and the anxieties of solitary individuals about loneliness and security.

In a recent report by The Atlantic, in January of this year, the application became a top-grossing paid download in the Apple App Store in China but then vanished without a trace. Apple disclosed that the application was removed due to a request from the Chinese Communist Party’s internet regulatory department.

The author of the article believes that this application seems to challenge the Chinese Communist Party’s consistent self-praise. While the CCP boasts of a prosperous economy, social progress, and the happiness of the people under the leadership of the party, the “Are You Dead?” application has exposed the inner unrest of many urban residents, highlighting a major social issue in China today – a large number of solitary individuals leaving the entire society engulfed in loneliness. The CCP’s ban on this application indicates the party’s constant surveillance of people’s emotions and dissatisfaction and anxiety about the observed phenomena.

With a vast population in China concentrated in densely populated cities, one might assume that loneliness is not an issue. However, as the economy develops and technology advances, a large number of young and middle-aged individuals have migrated from rural areas to urban centers, transforming China from an agricultural and family-based society to an urban and industrial-based one. The sense of alienation in urban life, coupled with fierce competition as everyone strives to succeed, has plunged society into a state of unease, anxiety, and loneliness.

Quoting Professor Bai Xuemei, specializing in urbanization research at the Australian National University in Canberra, the article points out that no matter who it is, one would feel lonely in a new place, but China’s millennia-old traditional family values intensify this sense of loneliness.

29-year-old Hang Nan, who moved from Linfen, Shanxi to Beijing to seek opportunities, mentioned that big cities offer more opportunities but come at the cost of loneliness. When she arrived in Beijing in 2021, unfamiliar with the surroundings, she worked long hours, leaving no time or energy for socializing. Eventually, she turned to social media platform Xiaohongshu to make friends, meeting online acquaintances for coffee chats or strolls in the park. Last year, she started attending “blind box dinners,” paying to have dinner with strangers.

The organizer of the “Blind Box Dinner,” Lu Ming, explained that each dinner group consists of approximately six people, with everyone splitting the bill equally. He started planning these dinners at the end of 2024 and now regularly organizes them in major cities like Shanghai and Guangzhou across China. Lu Ming mentioned that many people feel lonely and crave to expand their social circles but lack the resources and channels to do so.

In cities like Beijing and Shanghai with high living expenses, socializing and leisure activities are considered luxuries, especially for young individuals with modest incomes. Moreover, due to the recent economic downturn and soft job market in China, people are cautious with their spending, tightening their wallets and cutting down on expenses.

Social media has also altered the way people interact, creating a facade of connection and engagement without genuine communication. After a hectic day, many prefer to unwind by scrolling through their phones on the couch, occasionally feeling a wave of loneliness and emptiness.

A migrant in Shanghai using the pseudonym “Aze” revealed that as a warehouse manager in a sportswear store, after deducting rent and remittances to family, his monthly income of 5,000 to 6,000 yuan leaves him with limited opportunities for social outings. He occasionally gathers with colleagues after work, but most of his free time is spent on his phone at home. Aze expressed that online communication is less stressful, but he still acknowledges occasional feelings of loneliness.

In China, individuals like Aze, who are reluctant to cultivate deep relationships, are not uncommon. Many young people feel overwhelmed by work pressure and the desire to succeed, unwilling to take on additional burdens emotionally or otherwise.

According to a 2023 online survey by social app Soul, nearly 60% of respondents admitted to having no more than two real close friends. Many young people seek to alleviate their loneliness through shallow and short-lived relationships. Recently, it has become popular for Chinese youth to find temporary companions for activities like gaming, going to the gym, or engaging in other hobbies, with relationships fizzling out once the activities end, without any expectation of developing lasting friendships.

As marriage and starting a family become increasingly challenging in today’s Chinese society, the rise of a “companion culture” is not surprising. Chinese women aspire to find high-quality partners with high education, income, and social status, creating a picky dating scene. The one-child policy enforced by the CCP for the past 35 years mandated one child per couple, resulting in a severe gender imbalance due to a preference for male offspring. This has led to a surplus of low-income males struggling to find suitable partners for relationships or marriage.

Zheng Ying, the brand director of the Chinese dating app “Taqu,” with 200 million registered users, told The Atlantic that in China, another obstacle hindering intimate relationships is that all social interactions are utility-driven, with each party expecting to gain something from the encounter. However, loneliness and companionship cannot be measured purely by numbers or tangible benefits.

The author of the article argues that another reason young Chinese individuals are reluctant to marry and have children is the exorbitant cost of marriage, which many cannot afford. The family of many women expect their prospective partners to own property and a car before marriage, creating an unattainable standard for young people in major Chinese cities, where despite property prices falling, the youth still struggle to meet the financial requirements for marriage.

Moreover, factors such as inflation, trade tensions, and the threat posed by artificial intelligence have further clouded China’s economic outlook, dissuading young people from committing to marriage. In 2010, the number of first-time marriages in China was 22 million, dwindling to a mere 9.2 million by 2024. Fuqian Yi, an expert on Chinese population trends at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, stated that previously people were optimistic about the future due to a thriving economy, leading to confidence in marriage, but now people have become pessimistic, fearing the commitments of marriage and parenthood.

The article suggests that even marriage cannot fully alleviate loneliness. Lionel, a married Chinese man, grew up in a small town in Guizhou and now works in electronic game development in Hangzhou. He disclosed that in today’s Chinese society, everyone is focused on making money. Previously, his status as a programmer in a large company was considerable, but with a wave of layoffs and the emergence of AI, social standings are now volatile. Concerned about this uncertainty, he isolated himself from all social relations. Sometimes, deep in loneliness, he even sheds tears, keeping these emotions to himself and refraining from sharing with his wife.

Moreover, some young people find it easier to purchase companionship. Certain young women work as cosplayers, dressing up as male characters from anime, manga, and video games, offering companionship for a fee of around one to two hundred yuan per hour. The majority of customers are young women in their twenties seeking conversations with their favorite characters from the fantasy world they admire, practicing English, or even engaging in role-play relationships, resisting real-life interactions with men and preferring to keep their fantasies detached from reality.

The author argues that in many ways, the issue of loneliness among young Chinese individuals shares similarities with the loneliness, fear of commitments, and responsibilities experienced by young individuals in other developed countries. This could be the price of so-called social progress, although Chinese people might not see it that way. This discrepancy likely underlies why the CCP viewed the “Are You Dead?” application as a threat and ultimately banned it.

In the past few decades, the CCP has subtly educated the Chinese population that by sacrificing individual rights, one can achieve prosperity. But if people realize that this apparent prosperity comes at a heavy spiritual, social, and economic cost, they will feel deceived.