Is China's Twitter Selling Its Soul To Censorship?


BEIJING - Sina Weibo, one of China's most popular microblogging websites, announced last week the launch of the Sina Microblogging Community Convention in order "to defend the order of microblogging." That was the claim, at least, the reality is that it was just a ploy for giving the administrator the right to delete posts that may otherwise be destined to be censored by Chinese authorities, reports the China Times.

The regulation mainly involves the deletion of "security-endangering, false, sensitive information or rumors, as well as private or obscene information," the Taiwan-based publication reported. Any infringement will result in the deletion of information, and the temporary shut-down or permanent closure of the user's account.

It is believed that Sina is doing this in exchange for being allowed to stay in business after being punished and shut down for three days in early April this year by the authorities for "releasing and forwarding false information​​" related to the Bo Xilai affair, the China Times reported.

Since the birth of Weibo, social media have quickly become the most effective forum for the Chinese public in lambasting corrupt officials and abuses of power. More than 100 million messages are posted each day on Sina Weibo. This does not count the millions on China's other major microblog service provider, Tencent QQ. Beijing authorities as well as many local governments are particularly nervous about the potential influence and danger they bring.

The Chinese diaspora, including people in Hong Kong, Taiwan and the United States where Sina Weibo has clients, are appalled that Sina is giving in. "It's becoming the thug of Chinese censorship," the China Times wrote.

The Epoch Times, an overseas Chinese community newspaper, concluded that: "Sina Weibo has reduced itself to enslavement."

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Debt Trap: Why South Korean Economics Explains Squid Game

Crunching the numbers of South Korea's personal and household debt offers a glimpse into what drives the win-or-die plot of the Netflix hit produced in the Asian country.

In the Netflix series, losers of the game face death

Yip Wing Sum


SEOUL — The South Korean series Squid Game has become the most viewed series on Netflix, watched by over 111 million viewers and counting. It has also generated a wave of debate online and off about its provocative message about contemporary life.

The plot follows the story of a desperate man in debt, who receives a mysterious invitation to play a game in which the contestants gamble their lives on six childhood games, with the winner awarded a prize of 45.6 billion won ($38 million)... while the losers face death.

It's a plot that many have noted is not quite as surreal as it sounds, a reflection of the reality of Korean society today mired in personal debt.

Seoul housing prices top London and New York

In the polished streets of downtown Seoul, one sees endless cards and coupons advertising loans scattered on the ground. Since the outbreak of the pandemic, as the demand for loans in South Korea has exploded, lax lending policies have led to a rapid increase in personal debt.

According to the South Korean Central Bank's "Monetary Credit Policy Report," household debt reached 105% of GDP in the first quarter of this year, equivalent to approximately $1.5 trillion at the end of March, with a major share tied up in home mortgages.

Average home loans are equivalent to 270% of annual income.

One reason behind the debts is the soaring housing prices. In Seoul, home to nearly half of the country's population, housing prices are now among the highest in the world. The price to income ratio (PIR), which weighs the average price of a home to the average annual household income, is 12.04 in Seoul, compared to 8.4 in San Francisco, 8.2 in London and 5.4 in New York.

According to the Korea Real Estate Commission, 42.1% of all home purchases in January 2021 were by young Koreans in their 20s and 30s. For those in their 30s, the average amount borrowed is equivalent to 270% of their annual income.

Playing the stock market

At the same time, the South Korean stock market is booming. The increased demand to buy stocks has led to an increase in other loans such as credit. The ratio for Korean shareholders conducting credit financing, i.e. borrowing from securities companies to secure stock holdings, had reached 21.4 trillion won ($17.7 billion), further increasing the indebtedness of households.

A 30-year-old Seoul office worker who bought stocks through various forms of borrowing was interviewed by Reuters this year, and said he was "very foolish not to take advantage of the rebound."

In addition to his 100 million won ($84,000) overdraft account, he also took out a 100 million won loan against his house in Seoul, and a 50 million won stock pledge. All of these demands on the stock market have further exacerbated the problem of household debt.

42.1% of all home purchases in January 2021 were by young Koreans in their 20s and 30s

Simon Shin/SOPA Images/ZUMA

Game of survival

In response to the accumulating financial risks, the Bank of Korea has restricted the release of loans and has announced its first interest rate hike in three years at the end of August.

But experts believe that even if banks cut loans or raise interest rates, those who need money will look for other ways to borrow, often turning to more costly institutions and mechanisms.

This all risks leading to what one can call a "debt trap," one loan piling on top of another. That brings us back to the plot of Squid Game, "Either you live or I do." South Korean society has turned into a game of survival.

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