In this interview, we speak with Frances Yaping Wang, author of The Art of State Persuasion: China’s Strategic Use of Media in Interstate Disputes, published by Oxford University Press. An Assistant Professor of Political Science at Colgate University, Wang specializes in international security, authoritarian media, public opinion during interstate conflicts, and Chinese foreign policy.

Her book explores how Beijing uses state media to navigate its foreign policy challenges, introducing an intriguing misalignment theory — a framework for understanding when and why authoritarian states amplify certain disputes while downplaying others. In this conversation, Wang explains how media narratives can both rally and restrain public sentiment, and why understanding this dynamic is crucial for interpreting China’s behavior on the global stage.

: I first became interested in the variation in state media behavior—why some disputes are amplified while others are downplayed—not just in China but in other countries as well. Around 2015, while I was still conceptualizing the book, I was following coverage of China’s island-building activities and U.S. FONOPs (freedom of navigation operations) in the South China Sea. I noticed that sometimes the U.S. military would spotlight these encounters, even bringing journalists onboard, while at other times they remained silent. This made me wonder: when do states choose to publicize a dispute, and when do they choose to stay quiet?

That question became even more personal when I learned, for the first time, about the border dispute between China and North Korea—something I had never encountered growing up in China. This led me to what I now call the "barking dog/silent dog" puzzle: why do states sometimes escalate disputes rhetorically and at other times suppress them? As I dug deeper, I identified a related puzzle: what happens after the barking? I found that not all media campaigns are followed by aggressive foreign policy actions. Sometimes states bark without biting—where the rhetoric suggests a hardline stance, but the actual policy is restrained.

These two puzzles became the foundation of the book. I ask: what explains when and why media campaigns are launched? What do they look like, and how do they function? And why do some campaigns lead to action, while others do not?

The book’s key contribution is to show that many of these campaigns—especially in authoritarian states like China—are not directed at foreign audiences, but at domestic ones. Barking, in many cases, is a way to placate nationalist sentiment and create the political space for more moderate policies. As popular nationalism rises, governments face increasing pressure to demonstrate resolve publicly—even when they privately prefer a de-escalatory approach. Understanding this dynamic helps foreign observers avoid misreading media bellicosity as a signal of aggressive intent.

This idea grew out of my time at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, where I saw firsthand how tough rhetoric was sometimes used for domestic appeasement. My PhD training in comparative politics and international relations further shaped my perspective by highlighting the domestic constraints on foreign policy. When I teach Chinese foreign relations to undergraduates, I always begin by emphasizing the domestic political context behind foreign policy choices. This framework not only centers the agency of the state in shaping public opinion but also recognizes that the public can constrain foreign policy when popular sentiment runs high. This intersection between domestic politics and international behavior is something I’ve come to see as essential through both academic study and policy experience.

The book offers social scientific tools—most notably, computer-assisted text analysis of authoritarian state media—to help distinguish between media campaigns intended to pacify the public and those designed to mobilize support for aggressive foreign policy. This distinction is crucial for policymakers seeking to interpret a state’s true intentions behind its rhetoric. Chapter 6 is devoted entirely to this question, and part of the theory chapter also lays the groundwork for differentiating these campaign types.

One key difference lies in tone and emotional intensity. Both types of campaigns may use negative language, but their purposes diverge sharply. Mobilization campaigns use negativity to inflame public sentiment and rally support for a confrontational stance. In contrast, pacification campaigns use similar rhetoric more strategically—to maintain appearances of toughness and fend off nationalist criticism, while ultimately aiming to stabilize public opinion and preserve regime legitimacy.

Pacification campaigns also incorporate positive or neutral content to counterbalance negativity. They often present facts and appeals to rationality, signaling an intent to calm rather than provoke. This distinction yields several testable hypotheses, which I examine through large-scale sentiment analysis of People’s Daily articles. For instance, mobilization campaigns are generally more negative and emotionally intense than pacification efforts. They are also more likely to invoke approach-oriented emotions like anger and hatred, which are linked to social mobilization. In contrast, pacification campaigns tend to elicit avoidance-oriented emotions like fear or sadness, which are more consistent with de-escalation.

Chapter 6 empirically tests these differences using computational methods, including sentiment analysis and psychological profiling of the emotional content in thousands of articles. The findings strongly support the theoretical distinction between pacification and mobilization, offering practical tools for identifying each in real time.

FW: In the book, I use the 2016 Sino-Philippines arbitration case as an example of a pacification campaign. Even before the diplomatic standoff escalated into a full-blown crisis, Chinese public opinion was already highly engaged and strongly hardline. The government could not simply ignore this sentiment and proceed with its intended moderate foreign policy. Left unchecked, public anger risked spiraling into social activism that could undermine regime legitimacy and even threaten regime survival. To avoid this, the state needed to shift public attitudes to align with its preferred approach.

Importantly, the government only had to respond to a limited extent—because it held a “magic wand” of sorts: the capacity to shape public opinion through its extensive propaganda apparatus. This was not a matter of a simple “poof,” but rather a concerted, labor-intensive campaign of persuasion that ultimately proved effective.

This case illustrates both the vulnerability and the capability of the Chinese state. On the one hand, it is constrained by volatile public opinion in foreign policy crises; on the other, it is powerful enough to manipulate that opinion to make space for its strategic preferences, even when those diverge from popular sentiment.

JZ: You discuss how the Chinese government uses controlled outlets to allow “managed venting” as part of its pacification strategy. Could you elaborate on how these channels—such as social media platforms, online forums, or official comment sections—are designed to balance emotional expression with narrative control?

FW: King, Pan, and Roberts (2013) provide compelling empirical support for this argument. Analyzing millions of Chinese social media posts, they find that the government is primarily concerned with censoring content that could lead to collective action, while allowing general criticisms, grievances, and negative remarks to remain visible. This selective censorship aligns with what Rebecca MacKinnon (2012) describes as the “safety valve” function of social media in authoritarian regimes—where online platforms allow citizens to vent frustrations in ways that do not threaten regime stability. My research finds similar patterns: during pacification campaigns, the Chinese state not only tolerated but actively encouraged certain types of social media expression. In the arbitration case discussed earlier, major state media outlets were highly active on platforms like Weibo, amplifying posts and engaging with users. Much of the content circulating at the time was overtly entertaining—spoofs, memes, and jokes that allowed the public to release tension without veering into activism. These expressions operated safely within state-sanctioned boundaries, functioning as a release valve to defuse anger and prepare the public for the more moderate foreign policy that followed.

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JZ: You’re working on a second book about China’s outsourced foreign propaganda. Compared to official media outlets like CGTN or China Daily, why does China prefer using local agents to convey its messages abroad? What makes this approach more effective or credible?

FW: Chinese official media often outsource messaging to local agents abroad to convey pro-China or anti-West narratives through what is commonly referred to as “borrowed vessels.” First, they borrow access to foreign audiences. In some cases, Chinese state media enter into content-sharing agreements, offering free articles or videos that are distributed by foreign media outlets. These messages then reach broader audiences via the foreign media’s established subscriber bases. Second, they borrow local legitimacy. These foreign media partners or agents often have long-standing operations in their respective countries and enjoy the trust of local audiences. Particularly in Western democracies, where Chinese media are widely viewed as state-controlled, direct messaging from Chinese outlets would likely be met with skepticism or dismissal. Third, the Chinese state benefits from the local agents’ expertise and cultural fluency. Many outsourced messages are not pre-tailored for specific foreign audiences; local agents play a crucial role in adapting content to make it more palatable, persuasive, and contextually relevant— “speaking their language,” so to speak. These borrowed channels expand the reach and effectiveness of Chinese state propaganda by embedding it in more credible and familiar voices.

In our forthcoming book project, we will investigate the specific mechanics of this outsourced propaganda model, including funding flows, operational guidelines, and the organizational relationships between Chinese state media and their foreign partners. We will also assess its effectiveness through computer-assisted text analysis, comparing the tone, themes, and emotional appeals of outsourced versus direct propaganda. I am particularly excited to begin fieldwork this summer in China and Taiwan, followed by research in Singapore and the Philippines next year. These countries, with their varied relationships with China, will offer a valuable cross-section for understanding how China tailors its media influence strategies across the Asia-Pacific region.

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Juan Zhang is a senior writer for the U.S.-China Perception Monitor and managing editor for 中美印象 (The Monitor’s Chinese language publication).

The views expressed in this article represent those of the author(s) and not those of The Carter Center.

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