What the 2024 Paris Olympics reveal about the changing values of Chinese athletes and society
What the 2024 Paris Olympics reveal about the changing values of Chinese athletes and society
Beyond the "Chinese dreams"
China scored 40 gold medals at the 2024 Olympics, tying with the United States for the most gold medals and marking China's best overseas performance in Olympic history. If you include the gold medals from Taiwan and Hong Kong, China would be at the top of the leaderboard.
This would usually be a huge deal among netizens — I still remember watching my parents and relatives make a big fuss about the 2008 Beijing Olympics, constantly checking TV and their phones for the latest scores. But 16 years later, Chinese people and netizens seem noticeably less obsessed with who tops the leaderboard.
The 2008 Beijing Olympics were China’s best effort to showcase its abundance, competence, and power to the world, hoping to present an image of an advanced, modern China. Now, 16 years later, Chinese netizens are discussing the 2024 Paris Olympics with much more diverse opinions. While some say they preferred the magnificent style of the Beijing Olympics’ opening ceremony, more and more are expressing their love for the "松弛感" (the chill vibe) of Paris. Love it or hate it—there's certainly a more varied discussion happening.
A lot has changed since 2008, and these evolving sentiments reveal just how much Chinese society has transformed.
From fighting for my country, to striving to be the best version of myself
2008 was a special year for all Chinese, as Beijing hosted the Olympics, showcasing the nation to the world on the largest stage since China joined the wave of globalization (the WTO). The year held particular significance for the Chinese people, who eagerly gathered in front of TVs to see if Liu Xiang could repeat his 2004 Olympic gold medal triumph on home soil. As the first Chinese athlete to win a gold medal in men's track and field and the first Asian to set a world record in the 110-meter hurdles, Liu Xiang carried so much pride and expectations of an entire nation.
Perhaps too much.
To the disappointment of many, Liu Xiang had to withdraw from the Beijing Olympics due to injury, disqualifying him from the 110-meter hurdle final. When he walked off the track after a false start by another runner, the entire crowd at the Beijing National Stadium was left in stunned silence. In fact, Liu Xiang's withdrawal was not received with understanding by a significant portion of netizens in 2008. Many were furious, accusing him of disappointing his country, and rumors spread that he quit at the last minute due to doping or fear of losing to his American competitor Roberts.
You are not just fighting for yourself but for the entire country, and topping the leaderboard means that China can showcase the best of itself on the world stage—this was the view held by many before 2008.
Chinese athletes carried the pride and hope of their country. If you won first place once, people expected you to repeat the legend again and again.
Sixteen years later, at the Paris Olympics, Chinese hurdler Wu Yanni, herself a huge fan of Liu Xiang, brought attention back to Chinese track and field athletes after a decade of lower visibility after Liu Xiang's legend. Although she did not qualify for the semifinals at the Paris Olympics, Wu Yanni captured attention with her beautiful smile, outgoing personality, and flamboyant style.
Wu Yanni's boldness wasn't without controversy. While many admired her confidence, others criticized her for focusing too much on appearances rather than the competition, arguing that this was unprofessional for an athlete. Traditionally, most Chinese athletes didn't compete with makeup, and Wu Yanni's appearance challenged these stereotypes. In response to criticism about her flamboyant tattoo, Wu Yanni said:
"I believe everyone has their own choices and style. I like wearing clothes and shoes that I love because it makes me feel more confident and comfortable. I'm not doing this for hype or attention; I just want to be myself."
"This tattoo, which I got last summer, is a crown that represents my aspiration for championships and honor. Since I was a child, I've had a dream of standing on the Olympic podium, listening to the national anthem, and watching the national flag rise. This tattoo is to motivate myself, a reminder to work hard to achieve that dream. It wasn't done for no reason; it's a result of much sweat and tears."
This time, Chinese netizens have also embraced her individuality with a much more accepting attitude.
Wu Yanni has won the hearts of many young girls who aspire to be as confident and courageous as she is. Her success isn't just about style and appearance—shortly before the Paris Olympics, she won the 100m hurdles at China's national track and field competition with a time of 12.74 seconds, setting a new record for Asia.
For the past decades, athletes who competed in the Olympics often carried the responsibility of "winning glory for the country," sometimes sacrificing personal matters to focus 100% on training to win the gold medal.
Sixteen years after the Beijing Olympics, Chinese people are no longer just celebrating an athlete's success because they won a gold medal. We just now celebrate everyone who strives to be the best version of themselves.
We've seen this sports spirit grow among amateur athletes over the past few decades. Huang Xuemei, a software engineering graduate from Southeast University, took first place in the women's category of the inaugural 'Marathon for All' at the 2024 Paris Olympics, finishing in 2 hours, 41 minutes, and 3 seconds. Since graduating in 2015, she has balanced her banking career with a dedication to long-distance running, aiming to cover 30 kilometers each week.
Competing in sports doesn't solely mean the responsibility of winning first place for the country and fulfilling the "Chinese dream" shared by many; more importantly, it simply means pursuing your own dream of becoming a stronger and better version of yourself.
From a state-run system to a market economy
On August 3rd, a historic moment unfolded at the Paris Olympics when Chinese tennis player Zheng Qinwen won the women's tennis singles. This victory is a breakthrough, much like Liu Xiang's in 2004, and it shows that Chinese athletes can excel not only in traditionally strong sports like Ping Pong, diving, and weightlifting but also in tennis and other emerging sports.
At the press conference after winning the gold medal, Zheng Qinwen shared that she often watched how other Chinese athletes had won before each of her competitions. The athlete who inspired her the most was the former Olympic champion in the men's 110m hurdles, Liu Xiang. She said, "I watched his interviews, and he mentioned that he won the championship at 21 years old, which was the peak of his life. Now, at 21, standing on this stage 20 years later, I feel like I can achieve the same."
Behind Zheng Qinwen's unprecedented victory is the evolution of China's entire sports system - the shift in China's state-run sports model.
According to observations by the "Bureau of Knowledge about Earth," (a Chinese independent media outlet) as early as the late 20th century, in order to achieve good results in international competitions like the Olympics, the Chinese sports delegation reportedly developed a strategy based on five keywords: "small," "skillful," "challenging," "female," and "few." These refer to niche sports, skill-based sports, sports with high difficulty, women's sports, and sports with fewer competitors.
These categories tend to be less competitive, allowing for quicker success. Under the guidance of this strategy, the Chinese Tennis Association set a focus on women's tennis, using women's doubles as a breakthrough point. The results of this strategy were evident. In 2004, the Chinese women's tennis pair Li Ting and Sun Tiantian won the gold medal in women's doubles at the Athens Olympics.
With the support of this system, the average level of Chinese tennis players has steadily improved. Emphasis on "average level" is key here. For an athlete already scoring 98 out of 100, raising that score to 99 requires more personalized and targeted training. To break through this ceiling, in 2009, the Chinese Tennis Management Center officially introduced the "solo flight" model for athletes. This means athletes could now train independently, compete on their own, and bear the costs and risks themselves. It was during this period that Li Na became the first Chinese tennis player to win a Grand Slam title.
According to estimates by the "Bureau of Knowledge about Earth," it is said that there are currently around 50 to 80 Chinese families sending their children to Europe and the United States to study tennis. It's important to note that those able to send their children abroad for training are likely already ensuring their children have a solid foundation and talent. Assuming that one-tenth of these children become international-level players, China could have a top-tier tennis team of 5 to 8 players in the coming years. This would already be a highly competitive level.
In other words, China's state-run sports system and family-based training are forming a complementary relationship. Some sports are well-suited to the state-run system, such as weightlifting, gymnastics, and diving. Other sports, where professionalization is highly developed and a mature pipeline has formed in the market, like tennis, are now benefiting from strong family-based training as a valuable supplement.
— Translated from the original article by 罗辑思维
As China's wealth rises, more families are exploring internationally high-profile sports like tennis and other emerging sports. The shift in the state-run system is opening up possibilities for athletes to pursue more individualized paths based on their passions and talents.
Sixteen years after the Beijing Olympics, we now see young athletes competing and winning in sports like tennis, BMX freestyle (Deng Yawen), breaking (Liu Qingyi), skateboarding (Zheng Haohao), and more.
More importantly, the commercial value behind these sports is becoming substantial.
Since the 2022 Beijing Winter Olympics, Chinese consumers have embraced athletes like Eileen Gu and Su Yiming. Eileen Gu ranked No. 2 on Forbes' 2023 list of the world’s highest-paid female athletes, while Zheng Qianwen came in at No. 15.
Now, Zheng Qinwen's commercial value could become even more significant, with endorsements from major brands like Nike, McDonald's, and Alipay, potentially making her one of China's most commercially valuable athletes.
The commercialization of the sports industry could, in turn, ignite passion among citizens and create potential for related industries like sportswear. In 2004, China's tennis participation was only 1.97 million. Sixteen years later, that number is estimated to have surged tenfold to 20 million by 2020, thanks to Zheng's outstanding predecessors who pursued professional careers outside the state-run system.
This contrasts with the previous decades, when athletes couldn't take on endorsements without permission from the national team. Now, we can expect to see a booming sports industry where athletes are free to compete for money and build lucrative careers from their talent, passion, and hard work.
Loosen up! "00s" generation athletes shattered stereotypes with their individualism
In the past decade, Chinese athletes often carry the responsibility of winning glory for the country, and they usually carry a sense of "nervousness" when competing in the game.
In traditional Chinese culture, modesty was the expected norm, and one of the most standard and "correct" responses to winning and achievement was, "It's nothing; I will strive to be better next time." And the "expected" response to not winning was almost always, "It was regrettable, and we will do X, Y, and Z to be better next time."
But Chinese "90" and "00" generation athletes at the Paris Olympics have shattered stereotypes with their confident and expressive styles, marking a departure from traditionally reserved attitudes.
At the press conference after Zheng Qinwen won the women’s singles, a reporter asked, "Now that you've won the Olympic gold medal, do you agree with the statement that 'Queen Wen has finally become Queen Wen'?"
Zheng Qinwen paused for a moment and then responded, "I completely agree with that. I might have been more modest before, but now I truly feel that I've pushed past my limits, so I believe I've earned this title."
The men's badminton doubles team, Liang Weikeng and Wang Chang, when asked about their silver medal—often seen as a "regret" by many Chinese people—said: "Leave the next tournament for the next time; don’t worry about what’s two hours or eight kilometers away."
Zhang Yufei, who won one silver and five bronze medals, responded with a smile during an interview: "Among the top three, the bronze medal brings the most happiness."
I love the new era of Chinese sportsmanship, where athletes' candid remarks and relaxed attitudes show that the meaning of competition doesn’t have to be about "being perfect at everything"—a mindset often prevalent in Chinese educational values.
The story of China's sports is a reflection of its society's journey. Since China joined the WTO, the country has enjoyed 20 years of rapid economic development, transforming from poverty and lagging behind to modernity and wealth.
The "winning-at-all-costs" mentality was prevalent during this process, not just in sports, but among every Chinese citizen eager to catch up with the wave of globalization, build wealth, and showcase a modern, strong China to the world.
Now that we've shown the world all that, we're shifting from a collective focus on winning to an appreciation of individualism, from the pursuit of victory to the celebration of self-assurance. The future holds endless possibilities, and it will be exciting to see how this story unfolds.
Congratulations to all the athletes!
Ending notes: Beyond the macro observations, Olympic athletes also have a significant impact on China's consumer brands, reflecting what Chinese people favor or reject—insights that are crucial for investors and business people. For instance, the recent rise in negative sentiments toward Eileen Gu on Chinese social media and why I believe Zheng Qianwen could soon surpass Gu's commercial value in the Chinese market; how diving champion Quan Hongchan resonates with the broader Chinese public, representing the hope of an "ordinary family's" path upward; and relatedly, how sports brand Lululemon's decision to make the Chinese comedian Jia Ling their brand ambassador sparked consumer backlash, with many saying they won’t buy the brand, reflecting the changing beauty standards among Chinese consumers.
Let me know if you're interested in reading follow-up posts on these topics. Leave a comment!
any thoughts on pan zhanle?