A 54-year-old anthropologist has become a fandom sensation in China, and the reason is simple: he talks about anxiety.
Biao Xiang is being treated as an idol by young people in China. They fill auditoriums to listen to his speeches. They wait in lines for photographs with him. And they discuss him on RedNote, the site where this conversation takes place.
Xiang’s subject is far from glamorous. It concerns the strain of living in a nation where the economy shifts rapidly, and the price of staying current falls upon the individual. He speaks of doubt, of the move from schooling into adult life, of the demands of employment and love. What he provides is modest: he listens.
What Xiang Talks About
A Chinese graduate who spoke to the BBC explained the appeal in simple terms. “People need an anchor in their life. And his words make us feel there is someone that gets me.”
The central point here is that Xiang speaks Mandarin and visits top Chinese campuses, including his old school, the prestigious Peking University. His talks get live-streamed because the rooms overflow with people. One phrase has stuck: “When in doubt, ask Biao Xiang.” It has become a saying, according to Chinese media.
He most recently visited Singapore, where he spoke to a crowd of some 500 people, largely made up of Chinese diaspora. For well over an hour he delivered remarks before opening the floor for questions. Afterward, he stood in line alongside supporters hoping to meet him. The graduate described the experience as “an academic fan meeting.”.
The Recognition Problem
The case being made is that Chinese youth turn to systems for validation — entrance tests, stable employment — and that validation ends up serving as their measure of personal worth. Xiang calls it exhausting and harmful. His proposal is that individuals ought to pursue meaning and comprehension through human relationships with others, using that as the foundation for a deeper sense of self.
They are far from instant solutions. In a nation where frustration can be treated as something forbidden by the government and suppressed, he stands out as one of the few public figures willing to speak about what he calls the “pain point of the times.”, even when it draws heavy censorship.
“Everyone knows where the issue is, but they are reluctant to look at it. Sometimes it is too painful to look at, or they don’t have a way,” he told the BBC over tea in Singapore.
“But as an academic, it is not terrifying if you can describe it — that’s how you analyse and manage it.”
The Turning Point
Xiang was born in 1972, and he came of age during a moment when Chinese history changed course. The country rose up from the harsh disorder brought on by Mao Zedong’s rule and began trading with the world. People who had lived ordinary lives turned into businesspeople, and commerce took off for the first time in the Communist nation.
He grew up in Wenzhou, which transformed into an industrial port. “It was a vast landscape of small business owners,” he recalls. “Most people didn’t care too much about education, the focus was on practical matters — specifically, how to make money.”
A large number of them were successful. Their offspring came of age during a time of substantial economic expansion. Yet the economy lost momentum during the pandemic and has failed to bounce back. The old formula — hard work equaling a secure job — no longer applies, and they are seeking a fresh story, Xiang explains.
The Numbers Behind The Worry
Youth unemployment hit 21.3% before the government stopped publishing the data in mid-2023. Those with “good jobs” — civil servants, corporate employees, engineers — are anxious about losing them.
Online complaints focus on demanding work schedules and a hostile workplace atmosphere. The worry is over the “curse of 35,” the point at which job ads begin excluding applicants past a certain age, making finding new employment more difficult.
It’s difficult to measure the scale of this feeling directly because of censorship, but its influence can be seen elsewhere. Worry shows up as outrage during online arguments over:
- College admissions
- Bride prices
- Food safety problems
Xiang’s Terms For The Trouble
Xiang gives vivid labels to what is driving this. “Floating” is his way of describing people pushing themselves without pause just to get by, much like a hummingbird that constantly beats its wings to remain suspended in mid-air.
Xiang makes the case that individuals are consumed by two extremes: the “very near” (themselves) and the very far (the world). He contends that the space in between — “the nearby” — gets ignored entirely, which he says leaves them feeling disconnected. The term “The nearby” points to what surrounds us right now.
Young people find these terms deeply resonant as they search for answers, and one user on RedNote put it this way: “He consistently views issues from the perspective of the vulnerable, attributes personal stress to macro-level causes, and encourages people to actively engage with life — it’s truly wonderful.”
A different person quoted: “He never spouts empty, feel-good platitudes; instead, he crouches down to face real-life dilemmas alongside us.”
The Comparison That Explains Him
Zihan Han put it bluntly. “Those who have said similar things aren’t as kick-ass as Teacher Xiang, yet people who are as kick-ass as him haven’t said such things.”
What sets Xiang apart is his willingness to speak openly about these matters. That is the reason audiences tune in.
Why He Matters Now
Xiang believes Chinese society is at a “turning point,” where people are searching for meaning while making sense of rapid social and economic change. He sees contradictions — uncertain youth in a powerful, assertive country; disillusionment despite huge advancement — and his job is to unpack what is driving it.
China’s leader Xi Jinping has acknowledged this too. He said the “principal contradiction” was “between the people’s ever-growing needs for a better life and unbalanced and inadequate development.”
The method Xiang uses is to lay out the trouble plainly. He gives no simple solutions, instead he gives readers a means to put a name to the trouble. Where speaking against discontent is forbidden, the act of giving it a name becomes its own kind of release.
What Comes Next
Xiang has relocated to Germany, where he currently serves as the director of the Max Planck Institute for Social Anthropology. His work focuses on social change within China and throughout other regions of Asia. This research remains ongoing, as does his public profile.
His words have become an anchor for young people in China, and that means the following he has built will not disappear. They will continue to gather to listen to him speak.
In Singapore, the BBC interviewed him, and there he also spoke with a graduate. There too the RedNote users respond to him, making him a shared touchstone for a generation that feels lost.
That is the kind of fame a 54-year-old anthropologist should have.
Source material: “Young people in China are fangirling over a professor who gets their anxiety,” the BBC.
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