January 16, 2025 - 4:00pm

Americans are bracing for the imminent ban of TikTok, which has been described variously as “digital fentanyl” by former vice president Mike Pence, “the teenage girl dancing app” by people who have never deigned to open it, and a “security threat” by US lawmakers. For many, the app’s impending ban feels like government overreach, prompting some users to migrate to RedNote, a Chinese app also known as Xiaohongshu. Pitched as “Chinese Instagram”, RedNote is at first glance a combination of fashion, recipes, restaurant reviews, and photos of people’s pets. Outside China, its user base has until now been modest, consisting mostly of expats and foreigners learning the language. However, with TikTok’s future in question, Americans are now flocking to RedNote as an act of protest.

This migration is fuelled by a mix of frustration, pragmatism, and rebellion. Many users see their move as a direct response to perceived censorship by the US government, embracing RedNote as a symbolic rejection of Washington’s policies. Ironically, these users seem to overlook that RedNote could face similar scrutiny if it gains significant traction in the United States, given the platform’s ties to China. The ban only starts with TikTok.

The shift to RedNote has also revealed deeper tensions among Americans. What began as a search for a TikTok alternative has evolved into a phenomenon laced with anti-American sentiment. Posts criticising US governance and lionising Beijing are increasingly common, while China’s modern infrastructure and urban development are juxtaposed with perceived American stagnation.

In response to RedNote posts asking for national stereotypes, Chinese users have commented that Americans are less free than they believe, are ruled by oligarchs, and live in a country run like a corporation. While there is some truth to these criticisms, the context in which they are shared raises important questions. For some Americans on RedNote, these dialogues have reinforced a newfound admiration for China, which in turn deepens their dissatisfaction with the United States. Naturally, the irony is lost on almost everyone.

Former Washington Post columnist Taylor Lorenz exemplified this dynamic with her purposely provocative “long live China!” tweet. While it’s obvious she was baiting conservative media outlets, her comment underscored the impulsive and shallow nature of much of this discourse. Criticising America or praising China is not inherently wrong, but the loudest voices in these conversations often lack the context to engage meaningfully. For instance, it’s fair to target Meta for its data collection and censorship, but what makes the Chinese regulatory system less culpable in these areas? And if the argument is that some level of control or censorship is justified, where do we draw the line between China’s actions and those of companies like Meta?

RedNote’s new users broadly appear indifferent to censorship, despite the issue’s centrality to the TikTok debate. While the extent of RedNote’s moderation policies remains unclear, China clearly does limit freedom of expression: 10 people have been arrested since June for publishing erotic fan fiction, for instance. Chinese users warn of what you can and can’t say — no politics, please — yet these concerns are secondary to those more focused on defying the US government.

The migration to RedNote reflects a broader cultural shift. Many Americans are increasingly disillusioned with their institutions and are eager to explore other options, even if those alternatives come with their own set of challenges. RedNote provides a compelling case study in how frustration and rebellion can drive people toward platforms or ideologies they might not fully understand.


Katherine Dee is a writer. To read more of her work, visit defaultfriend.substack.com.

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