作者：吕峰

编辑：李晶 校对：程筱筱 翻译：周敏

偶然间看到一位博主描述在河内街头的日常：游客可以使用Google地图、WhatsApp、Facebook，可以用Uber叫车，可以使用Visa或Mastercard付款。这些系统对接全球标准，无需额外学习一套“本地规则”。相比之下，外国人在中国旅行却无法访问Google、Meta，许多消费场景只支持微信或支付宝，想要注册两个系统必须绑定中国手机号，并且所有的功能需要本地银行账户，新时代的数字系统完全依赖实名认证。中国人所谓的“数字便利”，为什么面对海外游客便失效？

我想所有中国人都知道答案——中国的数字效率，完全建立在对社会的高度监控之上。在中国共产党的统治下，中国构建了一套极度整合的数字体系：全面实名制、行为轨迹可追溯、各大平台与行政系统深度互通、金融、通信、出行的数据被集中管理。这种结构极大提高了内部效率。扫码支付、数字政务、移动生活被共产党描述为“制度优势”的象征。但是，效率服务必然不是免费的。它依赖持续的数据收集，依赖个体身份的全面绑定，依赖行为的长期可追踪性。共产党将便利与监控被深度绑定。当一个普通人的日常生活被平台之间的数据叠加，意味着所有人的行踪高度可见与高度可控。

早晨买一份早餐，支付平台记录时间与地点；白天与同事沟通，社交系统留下信息轨迹；夜晚取件回家，电商平台标注住址与消费记录。若所有这些数据最终汇集于权力之手，个体便如同置身玻璃屋中，隐私与边界逐渐模糊。对体制而言，这是高效治理；对个人而言，这是持续暴露。而海外游客不在本地实名体系内，没有长期数据沉淀，不嵌入国内金融系统，无法被完整纳入平台数据网络。结果显而易见，对内高效的系统，对外部个体却充满摩擦。这不是偶然的技术落差，而是制度边界的体现。中国数字治理的核心目标是“可控性”，而非“全球兼容性”。这正是那篇越南游记所揭示的根本差异。

越南同样对数字信息监管，但并未建立系统性技术屏蔽。Google、Facebook、YouTube都可被正常访问，国际支付系统被广泛使用，各数字平台与全球体系连接。当数字空间形成高墙，长期影响的将不仅仅是旅游体验，而是技术标准、创新生态以及与国际连接互通的能力。

由此，我想到了明清时期的闭关锁国。国内看似获得了稳定的社会秩序，但当世界进入工业化与全球贸易阶段时，中国被边缘化。今天，中国在数字空间的高度隔离，就是在制造新的制度壁垒。

高度集中的体制可以在短期内动员资源，制造效率神话。但当效率依赖于监控，当便利依赖于数据集中，当稳定依赖于信息封锁，体制便陷入一个循环：为了维持秩序，需要更多控制；为了维持效率，需要更多整合；为了维持安全，需要更高的隔离。历史反复证明，专制政权为了维持内部稳定而强制与外界隔绝，都将在封闭的循环中耗尽自身的生机。

一篇越南游记看似平凡，却揭示了一个清晰的事实：中国的数字便利并非普世型便利，而是内部治理型便利，便利的代价是每一个人被监控。这个不断加固的数字高墙必将迎来轰然倒塌的一天，就像历史上看似坚固的柏林墙一样。

The Price of Convenience is Surveillance — Reflections on Reading a Vietnam Travelogue

Author: Lyu Feng

Editor: Li Jing Proofreader: Cheng Xiaoxiao Translator: Zhou Min

I happened to come across a blogger describing daily life on the streets of Hanoi: tourists can use Google Maps, WhatsApp, and Facebook; they can hail rides via Uber and pay with Visa or Mastercard. These systems align with global standards, requiring no additional learning of “local rules.” In contrast, foreigners traveling in China cannot access Google or Meta. Many consumption scenarios only support WeChat Pay or Alipay. Registering for these two systems requires binding a Chinese phone number, and all functions necessitate a local bank account. The digital systems of the new era rely entirely on real-name authentication. Why does the so-called “digital convenience” of the Chinese fail when facing overseas tourists?

I believe every Chinese person knows the answer — China’s digital efficiency is built entirely upon high-intensity surveillance of society. Under the rule of the Communist Party of China (CPC), China has constructed an extremely integrated digital system: comprehensive real-name registration, traceable behavioral trajectories, and deep interconnection between major platforms and administrative systems. Finance, communication, and travel data are managed centrally. This structure greatly improves internal efficiency. QR code payments, digital government services, and mobile lifestyles are described by the CPC as symbols of “institutional advantages.” However, efficient services are certainly not free. They rely on continuous data collection, the comprehensive binding of individual identities, and the long-term traceability of behavior. The CPC has deeply tethered convenience to surveillance. When an ordinary person’s daily life is overlaid with data across platforms, it means everyone’s movements are highly visible and highly controllable.

Buying breakfast in the morning, the payment platform records the time and location; communicating with colleagues during the day, the social system leaves a trail of messages; picking up a package at night, the e-commerce platform marks the home address and consumption records. If all this data eventually converges in the hands of power, the individual is like being placed in a glass house, where privacy and boundaries gradually blur. For the system, this is efficient governance; for the individual, this is continuous exposure. Since overseas tourists are not within the local real-name system, have no long-term data accumulation, and are not embedded in the domestic financial system, they cannot be fully integrated into the platform data network. The result is obvious: a system that is efficient internally is full of friction for external individuals. This is not an accidental technical gap but a manifestation of institutional boundaries. The core goal of China’s digital governance is “controllability,” not “global compatibility.” This is precisely the fundamental difference revealed by that Vietnam travelogue.

Vietnam similarly regulates digital information, but it has not established systemic technical blocking. Google, Facebook, and YouTube can be accessed normally; international payment systems are widely used; and various digital platforms are connected to the global system. When digital space forms high walls, the long-term impact will not only be on the tourism experience but also on technical standards, the innovation ecosystem, and the ability to connect and interoperate internationally.

This reminds me of the “Closed Country Policy” (Haijin) during the Ming and Qing dynasties. Domestically, a stable social order seemed to be achieved, but when the world entered the era of industrialization and global trade, China was marginalized. Today, the high degree of isolation in China’s digital space is creating new institutional barriers.

A highly centralized system can mobilize resources in the short term to create myths of efficiency. But when efficiency depends on surveillance, when convenience depends on data centralization, and when stability depends on information censorship, the system falls into a cycle: to maintain order, it needs more control; to maintain efficiency, it needs more integration; to maintain security, it needs higher isolation. History has repeatedly proven that autocratic regimes that forcibly isolate themselves from the outside world to maintain internal stability will eventually exhaust their vitality within a closed loop.

A travelogue about Vietnam may seem ordinary, yet it reveals a clear fact: China’s digital convenience is not a universal convenience, but an internal governance-oriented convenience. The price of convenience is that everyone is monitored. This continuously reinforced digital high wall will inevitably face a day of collapse, just like the seemingly solid Berlin Wall in history.