Daniel A. Bell — a student of Confucius, dean of the School of Political Science and Public Administration at Shandong University and a professor at Tsinghua University in Beijing — has long argued that the “China Model” is a morally legitimate alternative to Western democratic systems and the “one person, one vote” standard. In essays and op-eds in The New York Times, The Financial Times, and also in his new book, Just Hierarchies (Princeton University Press), he argues that the return of some of China’s traditional political theories, tracing back to Confucius and others, have in recent decades melded into a socialist, communist and yet meritocratic political system that we should admire. Critics, of course, have savaged him as an apologist for Beijing; and he has responded forcefully, as you’ll read below. What follows is a lightly edited Q&A.
Q: In your new book, Just Hierarchies, written with Wang Pei, you talk about the social hierarchies of China. Does that have any bearing on what we’ve seen in China with Covid-19?
A: Yes, we argue that any modern society needs social hierarchies and we need to distinguish between the good ones and the bad ones. We know what the bad ones are: [social hierarchies] based on race or sex or caste, or maybe class. But what are the good ones? In principle, they are supposed to serve the common good, not just the power-holders. For example, there are two relevant social hierarchies here. One is respect for conscientious professionals, like a whistleblower such as Dr. Li Wenliang, who sounded the alarm. The other is respect for meritocratically selected political leaders who can take strong measures to deal with social crises. There’s a kind of trust that those measures are meant to serve the people’s interests.
Did we see this playing out in the Covid-19 crisis inside China?
Yes. There was faith in the government, that they’re doing this for us; and also that it’s a short term thing. It was not meant to be permanent, like totalitarian measures to keep people in their homes forever, or there would be a massive rebellion. There was widespread agreement that this is the way to go. I don’t mean to criticize the U.S., but there is this strong anti-elitist tradition in the U.S., which is not nearly so prominent in China.
So in a more anti-elitist country like the U.S., you say, it would be harder for the authorities to manage a situation this way?
There’s not the same respect for conscientious professionals that there is in China. There’s also a strong aversion to a powerful state that’s going to take measures to curtail privacy, even if it’s a short term response to an urgent crisis. In the West people say, “Oh, we can’t look at China because it’s a kind of harsh containment.” Remember, the epicenter was in China. It’s hard to imagine that measures that were less harsh would have been very effective, at least in Wuhan or Hubei. So people in China feel quite lucky that the government responded in the way it did, even though terrible mistakes were made in the beginning.
BIO AT A GLANCE | |
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BIRTHPLACE | Montreal |
AGE | 56 |
EDUCATION | McGill (B.A. in Psychology), Oxford (M.Phil. and D.Phil. in Politics) |
CURRENT POSITION | Dean, School of Political Science and Public Administration, Shandong University (Qingdao); Professor, Schwarzman College, Tsinghua University (Beijing) |
Is it an indication that a more authoritarian system works better or is preferable? Is that what you’re getting at?
The [use of the word] “authoritarian” is not helpful because usually authoritarianism is meant to be contrasted with democracy, right? So democracies are countries that select leaders by means of competitive elections, and all the others are thought to be authoritarian. That lumps family run dictatorships like North Korea or military run countries like Egypt together [with countries like China]. We should try to understand China on its own terms, with the leading ideals that animate its political system, and then use those ideals to assess whether the reality meets those ideals.
What are the leading ideals in China?
There are two main political traditions in China. One is the Confucian tradition that values rule by compassionate public officials. They are supposed to rule mainly by means of moral education, informal rituals, and positive example. The other is the Legalist tradition (fajia), which basically justifies a very strong state, backed by harsh punishment to deal with emergencies. The two traditions were synthesized in the Han dynasty and influenced the imperial system for the next two thousand years or so. The Chinese term for political meritocracy — the selection and promotion of public officials with superior (Confucian-style) virtue and (Legalist-style) ability (xianneng zhengzhi) — captures the ideal of the public official with an ability to grasp practical issues with the aim of efficiently implementing policies that benefit the people.
Was this system in effect during Mao’s time?
This tradition of political meritocracy was marginalized for much of Mao’s rule. But [during] the past four decades, there has been an effort to reestablish this tradition of political meritocracy. It’s still highly imperfect, and there’s a huge gap between the ideal and the reality. But if you have to ask what’s the key difference between the political system now and four decades ago during the Cultural Revolution, it is this effort to reestablish a complex bureaucratic system that aims to select rulers with superior ability and virtue who govern in the interest of the people. In practice, of course, ability and virtue do not always coexist, so it’s a complicated story.
Authoritarianism is defined as a form of government characterized by strong central power and limited political freedoms. Doesn’t that describe China?
That definition is so broad that it includes China, but it also includes North Korea, Saudi Arabia and Egypt. And we need to differentiate — we need to understand what makes China different from those countries and try to understand it in its own terms. Then we can evaluate it.
Whether they select meritocratic leaders or not, isn’t China still led by an authoritarian government?
Authoritarianism in English is so pejorative, I mean, it’s hard to use in a neutral way. And it doesn’t help us understand China’s political system — what makes it work or what makes it different from other systems that don’t use elections to select top leaders.
If we shouldn’t describe China as authoritarian, what term should we use?
China is a highly imperfect political meritocracy, which also has some authoritarian characteristics and also has some democratic characteristics. The authoritarian characteristics — or, in Chinese terms, the Legalist characteristics — have become more prominent of late. In the same vein, we should use the dominant ideals in the United States to describe its political system. I disagree with those who say the United States isn’t a real democracy because it’s more like “rule by the rich minority,” in reality. I’d say it’s a highly imperfect democracy, with some meritocratic characteristics (the military and judiciary are strongly influenced by meritocratic ideals) and some authoritarian characteristics, as we see under President Trump.
What is it outsiders fail to understand about China’s rise or its development?
It’s the view that during the last four decades there’s been a lot of economic reform but no political reform. That’s a pretty standard trope in the West, not just among political leaders and the media but even among the people who study China very closely. And it’s hopelessly wrong. The political system is now so different from what it was during Mao’s time, and what really makes it different is this effort to reestablish a political meritocracy, a highly complex bureaucratic system that selects and promotes officials with above average ability and virtue.
When did this system reemerge?
Around the same time the economic reforms took shape. It was in the late ’70s. Deng Xiaoping and other leaders realized there was a hugely crazy form of populism with arbitrary rule at the top that led to terrible consequences in the Cultural Revolution. And there was a need to reestablish a bureaucratic system that selects and promotes officials with education and experience and with a desire to serve the political community.
So it was Deng who brought this back?
Deng was the leader at the top who would have had the most say. But there was some sort of consensus at the top that we need to reestablish a kind of political meritocracy. And that’s been going on over the past four decades. Initially the emphasis was on selecting officials with education and the ability and expertise to promote economic growth, because that was viewed as the best way of alleviating poverty. The most pressing problem was poverty alleviation. [But] the “virtue” part of political meritocracy was neglected, and there was so much corruption that it posed an existential threat to the political system. Since 2012, at least, there has been much more emphasis on the “virtue” part of the political meritocracy because that was viewed as necessary to save the political system.
How are they tested on virtue?
Well, virtue is the hardest thing to measure. The bottom line of virtue is, “Don’t be corrupt. Don’t misuse public resources for your or your family’s interests.” And as you know, there was a huge problem with corruption in China. So obviously, the system did not do well at selecting and promoting leaders with virtue until recently.
Did they just begin to implement that last year, because it seems to me that China has faced some major challenges in tackling official corruption. How do you explain that?
Throughout much of the period of economic reform, the emphasis was on the ability to deliver economic growth, because that was viewed as the best way of reducing poverty, and virtue was neglected. This contrasts with other countries where there’s a lot of corruption but nothing gets done. In China, there was a kind of implicit understanding that, “We’ll overlook corruption so long as they get things done, especially if you can deliver economic growth.” But then that led to a huge problem. You can measure this in surveys. What did people worry about? They worried about public officials who were corrupt because it became much more difficult to get into hospitals or to get public services without paying bribes.
Did Xi Jinping, who is the son of a former leader, go through such a rigorous test?
Well, the current leaders started their route to power without going through the examination system, to a certain extent. So this applies more to the elite that came through during the past three decades. But the point is not that the examinations select the most brilliant people, it just means that the examinations succeed in selecting officials with substantially above average analytical ability. [Of course,] that’s not the only thing that matters, otherwise physicists would probably be the most brilliant people in terms of intellectual ability, but nerds wouldn’t do well in a political system. So political ability refers to both intellectual ability and emotional intelligence. Public officials have to deal well with people and have a good track record of dealing with people. And this is where it gets tricky. People criticize China, saying “The system is not really a meritocracy because there’s a lot of patronage in the system.” But if patronage means that you’ve succeeded in accumulating a large network of diverse friends and colleagues and supporters throughout your political career, it means you have a pretty high level of emotional intelligence, which is quite important in order to get things done in a hugely complex political system like China.
In much of your writing, including an op-ed you wrote with Eric X. Li in The Financial Times, you argue that China is led by a political meritocracy; that the country selects and promotes leaders based on merit and virtue. The Chinese government says this, but how do you verify that this is really taking place? What makes you sure this is how things operate in practice?
The ideal of political meritocracy has motivated political reform over the past four decades, but there’s a huge gap between the ideal and the reality. Of course, it doesn’t mean that the ideal isn’t expressed to a certain extent in reality. Some of the ways are obvious. For example, the reestablishment of an examination system to select public officials, which is a rigorous and competitive examination system. Now, you can’t even get through the door without passing that. And what do the examinations test for? On the face of it, it seems like they might test for a kind of political correctness or propaganda issues. But those would be the easy part of the examinations. The hard part is more like a high level IQ test. And we can be sure that anybody who goes through those examinations will have above average analytical ability.
Are your published writings arguing that the Chinese authorities would like to be meritocratic? Or that they have, in fact, established a meritocratic system and there’s proof that’s how it works?
I’m a political theorist, right? And I work on normative issues. And the question that I ask is: what are the ideals that motivate the political system? I’m not defending the status quo. I’m saying that the ideal underlying the political system is political meritocracy.
So, this is what they aspire to, but not necessarily what actually happens. Is that right?
Yes, exactly. Thank you for putting it well. I’m defending an ideal expressed in the political system, which I use to assess the political reality.
You study the works of Confucius. Are China’s rulers trying to create a system that has more Confucian elements?
One of the interesting developments in China over the past three decades is the revival of tradition. And the main tradition in China, of course, is Confucianism. Other traditions, like Buddhism and Taoism, are also being revived. Still, the tradition with the greatest social and political impact is Confucianism. But again, the Legalist tradition is also prominent. We can call it the ugly sister of Confucian compassion. It’s always been there, and sometimes it operates in bad ways, where harsh measures are used to defend the interests of the political leaders, rather than the people. Confucians always remind political leaders that the whole point of the political system is to serve the people. And sometimes there’s an acceptance that harsh measures may be required to deal with issues. But they have to serve the people’s interests.
You say that China has been moving toward a more meritocratic system, and choosing leaders based on performance and virtue. How does that square with the Party’s decision to name Xi Jinping as a kind of permanent leader with little or no term limits?
We have to go back to what went on before President Xi Jinping [came into power], when there were nine, almost equal, leaders. That led to a certain paralysis, where each leader had his own interest group and could veto policies that affected their interest groups. That led to huge problems, not just corruption but also environmental problems and a huge gap between the rich and the poor. So there was a need for a reform that couldn’t be accomplished under this kind of dysfunctional collective leadership. So, a decision was made, not to abandon collection leadership — there’s still going to be leaders at the top — but a system [that has, in effect] a “first among equals.” It’s not one person at the top who decides everything; there’s still some form of collective leadership. To be frank, I have no idea what happened with the change in term limits, but we can be quite sure there’s a strong element of collective leadership; that no one person could remain at the top, for example, if they became incapacitated or if there was some other serious problems. So, we can say that there’s no longer a system of collective leadership where they’re basically all equals, but there is still some collective check upon the first among equals.
Why is China’s form of democracy better than a liberal democracy?
It’s different, not necessarily better. China’s political ideal is political meritocracy with strong elements of experimentation and democracy, but it’s not necessarily appropriate for countries with different political traditions. If you want to consolidate a political system, it has to build on that country’s mainstream political culture. So the tradition of political meritocracy, especially for higher levels of government, is appropriate for China because it has a very long history. Also, China is a huge country. What the leaders at the top have to do in huge countries is very different from what they have to do in a small country.
The population of the U.S. is close to 350 million, and the country is complex, diverse, with various political and cultural traditions melded together. Should the U.S. adopt a Chinese style political meritocracy?
I don’t think it’s appropriate. The size might not be a big issue, but the political culture is so different. There’s not this tradition and respect for, let’s say, hierarchically selected public officials in the U.S. [Just as] China is a highly imperfect political meritocracy, the U.S. is a highly imperfect democracy, but it has to improve based on its own kind of democratic tradition.
Is democracy incompatible with China’s system? Are you saying a Western style one person, one vote system would not work in China?
At lower levels of government, a very strong case can be made for democracy where the issues are not so complex, and people know the character of the people they are selecting. But what works now in the political system in China should be preserved. And what works is that all political leaders selected now have decades of political experience. You won’t select leaders who have no political experience. Somebody like Donald Trump would not get through even the first door of the Chinese political system.
And so let’s say candidates were required to have political experience, do you contend one person, one vote isn’t right for China?
MISCELLANEA | |
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FAVORITE MUSIC | Ancient: Shao |
FAVORITE FILM | Land Without Bread (directed by Luis Buñuel) |
FAVORITE BOOK | Tie: Plato’s Republic and Xunzi |
WHO DO I MOST ADMIRE? | Confucius and Guy Lafleur |
Again, the ideal of political meritocracy is distinctive to a large country. The leaders have to look out not just for the current interests of the voting community, they also look out for the interests of future generations. They have to look out for the interests of the whole world. Because what China does on issues like climate change or regulation of A.I. will affect the rest of the world.
What happens in the U.S. also affects the rest of the world. And presumably, American or European leaders also aim to look out for future generations? Does a one person, one vote system somehow make that more difficult?
It makes it harder. Once you have one person, one vote, then if there’s a serious conflict between the interests of the voting community and future generations, or the rest of the world, then almost inevitably the interests of the voting community will take priority. So, if China were to adopt one person, one vote for leaders, it would make it even harder, and perhaps impossible, for China to deal with issues like climate change that really require a decades long horizon.
Aren’t European nations, like Germany, out front on climate change? Does voting somehow affect this?
It’s too early to tell. We’ll know in 20 or 30 years. In China, the leaders can take very strong, long term measures to deal with, for example, promoting electric cars or renewable energy in a way that would be more difficult in a political system where the leaders are more directly accountable to the vote, to the voting community. There’s an excellent new book by Peter Drahos of the European University Institute which argues that China is our best hope for dealing with climate change because of its strong government with the capacity and willingness to take a long term outlook.
Think about it. What would happen if China were to adopt one person, one vote to select the top-level political leaders? You could get a leader with no political experience; that would make it harder to deal with issues that take seriously the interests of future generations and the rest of the world. The leaders would have to spend a lot of time raising money and giving the same speech over and over again, instead of focusing on long term issues. And not only that, but the rhetoric would take a turn for the worst. I mean, many things are terrible in China, and we do worry about extreme nationalism, but imagine if it was a real free for all at the top; the kind of rhetoric [that might arise], it would become much more ugly.
Is that a reason China should also beware of a free press, or a relatively open internet, because it will turn ugly and the rhetoric would get out of control? Is that type of free and open discussion also incompatible with the country’s political traditions?
My first job was in Singapore in 1991 to 1994. Now, that was really unfree, in terms of the media. Our only source of information was The Straits Times, which was basically government propaganda. And that was pre-internet. We had to go across to Malaysia to get The Far Eastern Economic Review, for different views. And now Singapore is a much more open society. We still have The Straits Times, but there’s a very lively debate, especially on the internet, with some room for alternative newspapers as well, and with access to media from the rest of the world. My dear hope is that China can move towards this kind of Singapore model, and I think as people become more educated and more demanding of a free press, I think it’s bound to move towards that model.
So, China could eventually have, maybe not Western-style democracy, but they could have Western-style free press?
Yes. There would be differences, but Singapore is a good model. There’s always going to be a need for an official, publicly funded media to promote the government’s agenda. I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing. People should know what the government is up to, and it should communicate its message clearly. I think Singapore, again, does a good job of doing that. I think there’s also going to be a need for publicly funded media to report on things that more market driven media wouldn’t do. And a good example for me was in 2008; there were the Olympics, but after that, there were the Paralympics and most of the international media left China.
The scholar Andrew Nathan says that in promoting or endorsing the China Model, you overlook China’s human rights abuses, the way in which leaders actually rule, and downplay the flaws in the system. What do you say?
There are different ways of doing good in the world. One is to “name and shame,” to publicize egregious violations of human rights abuses in the hope that things will improve once light is shed on the problem. That approach may be effective in some contexts, though there is not much evidence it’s effective in China. Such critics rarely have anything good to say about the Chinese political system and Chinese leaders tend to suspect their motives, especially if they’re from countries with influential voices who are openly hostile to China and call for the overthrow of the political system. The other is to work within the political system, to appreciate its virtues and to gain the trust of fellow-minded colleagues and leaders and work with them for incremental improvements. That’s my approach. As a minor bureaucrat with a foreign passport, there are limits to what I can do. But I take great pride, when, say, a talented and intellectually curious student in my faculty succeeds in an ultra-competitive examination process to land a job with the foreign ministry. I tell myself that’s good for China’s future.
Of course, it doesn’t mean that I’m not more critical in my writings. As mentioned, I [ask] what are the ideals that motivate the political system. That’s what I have done in my two recent books. And I say “and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t.” So, on issues like freedom of speech, there’s a huge gap between ideal and reality. On issues like Xinjiang or with corruption, again, I criticize excessive use of harsh Legalist means for dealing with these problems. So, in my works, it’s a critical evaluation of reality. But what my critics object to is that I don’t use their own moral framework for assessing reality. We share a commitment to universal human rights. But for me, it’s a pretty thin list of universal human rights, such as don’t kill innocent people; don’t torture people; slavery is bad; genocide is bad. But I don’t share the view that there’s only one legitimate way of selecting political leaders, and that’s one person, one vote. And that’s really the key issue that I think differentiates me from other thinkers, from the West anyway.
David Barboza is the co-founder and a staff writer at The Wire. Previously, he was a longtime business reporter and foreign correspondent at The New York Times. @DavidBarboza2