作者：漠北孤侠  

高善文作为“生产资料”终于在2026年7月7日被中共国消耗殆尽，但他的死并不是剧终。网上高潮迭起,是什么力量在推波助澜？公开报道称，高善文是死于癌症。生命科学已经证明，癌症是有触发条件的。我更强烈的感觉是，似乎冥冥之中，高善文是以死相谰,或者说是以身殉道。对，高善文最出圈的就是“敢说真话”。中共国自2017年起，理论界，包括但不限于经济学界,就已经秋风萧杀、万马齐喑了。2024年那场深圳闭门会和华府论坛上高善文“关于GDP和失业率，捅破数据窗户纸”的原话：“我自己的猜测是过去两到三年实际增长率平均可能在2％左右，尽管官方数字接近5％。”“如果我的猜测是正确的，我认为可能更合理的预测是，未来三到五年的增长率在3％至4％之间。不过我们知道官方数字将始终在5％左右。” 背景：2024年12月国投证券内部策略会，首次提出。说完这段话录音流出，直接触怒高层，后面就被禁言了。为什么狠：等于公开说“真实增长砍一半”，还点明“官方永远报5%”。后面华府论坛他又说了一遍。之后,他基本处于“社死”状态。“社死”就是不死已死。更要命的：关于房地产危机，直接血淋淋撕咬点名“主犯是政府”。原话：“中国经济萧条的主犯，政府造成了房地产危机；民营地产颈动脉大出血” 2024年一场被删的演讲。标题就叫这个。直接把房地产流动性危机的锅甩给“党的领导方式”，还说民企是“颈动脉大出血”。这都2024年了,将该言论界定为顶格批评都算客气的了。作为经济学家，他对中国经济的悲鸣以及对政府的过度压逼，分明属于是以死相谏、舍身殉道了！如果苍天有眼，或高局庙堂者有知，听进老高谰言，中国经济也不至于每况愈下，整个社会一路朝北狂奔了。昨天新华社雄论“北朝鲜发展成就辉煌……”,雄辩明证,中国再度加速朝北裸奔,北朝鲜的今天就是我们的明天；金正恩治党治国最优选……但现实世界中没有“如果”,老高只剩殉道华山独一径！其实更早在2018年老高就预言了：“年轻人洗洗睡吧！”——2018年非公开演讲。当时他就批评“一刀切”去杠杆，预言会引发民企流动性危机。6年后看，基本应验了。俨然如千多年前的“刘伯温”。此际，另一个颇有异曲同工之妙的故事涌上我的心头,我在现场但配角都不在,主讲者或多或少吸收了高善文的理论成果：2019年大概9月份（忘了准确月份)在北京大学深圳研究生院,顶流经济学家金岩石也抛出了日后在市场上广为流传的经典论断：一、2019年是此前10年中经济最差的一年;但是是未来10年经济最好的一年。二、(最高层定调)迄今为止,民营经济已经完成使命，它的好日子一去再也不复返了。金岩石演讲完后，我回到我身边的企业家中也苦口婆心地宣讲。“如果”又来了：如果当初有心的企业家听懂了,该有多好？在今年6月份新华社长论《“三大改造” 伟大进程》面前瑟瑟发抖的企业家，包括但不限于近日跳楼的居然之家老板林朋广等5人，或许会有不一样的结果？但没有“如果”，正如高善文也没有“如果”……2024年底中证协发文，要求首席经济学家对外发声要“事前报备”。因不当言行多次引发声誉风险的要“从严处理直至解聘”。2025年11月24日,高善文从国投证券离职,中证协官网已查不到他。高善文就是典型的没有“如果”的结果。 是高善文成就了死谏 ，还是死谏 成就了高善文？高善文管不了身后的洪水滔天。但现实却不经意间给了他超乎寻常的荣誉:网上雄文滔滔,致敬和怀念汹涌澎湃！当然也有人拿高善文和李克强相比，隐晦指出老高不配如此高规格礼遇。我不以为然。李克强不单是中共狼窝的一员，而且身居庙堂最高。如果他虽够恶但恶得不够邪、够邪但不得要领,他断然到不了如此高位，而且只是讲了一句“中国收入1000元左右的不下6亿人”。更兼在中共二十大上,当以胡锦涛和他本人为首的整个中共组织在十四亿国民被羞辱、被凌辱、被强J时选择默然，毫无疑问此时的沉默就是帮凶。如果他能摔杯而起或许今天的中国已经脱胎换骨，而且更可能同时也拯救了死于非命的自己。而高善文凭此不是诗的诗句就足以不朽:掌握生产力的人，适合出海；

掌握生产关系的人，适合留在国内。至于我，我是生产资料。作为经济学家、良知学者,最后作为生产资料，终于于2026年7月7日被中共国耗尽,因病离世。仅以此文，向高先生和全天下所有被耗尽和待耗尽的“生产资料”致敬，并祭典已死亡的中国经济。

编辑：周志刚     校对：熊辩 翻译：沈美花

Remonstrating with Death or Martyrdom for the Cause?

Author: Mobei Guxia (The Lone Paladin of the Northern Desert)

Abstract

This article recounts how Gao Shanwen was silenced in 2024 after speaking candidly about the real causes of China’s economic decline, and how, on July 7, 2026, Chinese Communist Party media reported that he had died of cancer. It is written in memory of Gao Shanwen and of all those who have dared to speak truth and offer honest counsel.

As a piece of “means of production,” Gao Shanwen was finally used up by the CCP state on July 7, 2026.

But his death was not the end of the story.

Wave after wave of emotion has surged across the internet. What force is driving this extraordinary outpouring?

Public reports stated that Gao Shanwen died of cancer. Modern life science has shown that cancer develops under certain triggering conditions. Yet I cannot shake an even stronger feeling: somewhere, somehow, it seems that Gao Shanwen remonstrated with his life—or, perhaps more precisely, gave his life in martyrdom.

Yes. What made Gao Shanwen most famous was precisely this:

He dared to tell the truth.

Since 2017, the intellectual world of the CCP state—including, but by no means limited to, the field of economics—has been swept by an autumn chill. Ten thousand horses have fallen silent.

At a closed-door meeting in Shenzhen and later at a forum in Washington in 2024, Gao Shanwen pierced the paper window surrounding the official GDP and unemployment figures.

His original words were:

“My own guess is that over the past two to three years, the actual growth rate may have averaged around 2 percent, even though the official figure was close to 5 percent.”

And:

“If my guess is correct, I think a more reasonable forecast would be growth of between 3 and 4 percent over the next three to five years. However, we know that the official figure will always be around 5 percent.”

The background was this: he first made these remarks at an internal strategy meeting held by SDIC Securities in December 2024. After a recording of his remarks was leaked, he directly angered the authorities at the top and was subsequently silenced.

Why were those remarks considered so explosive?

Because he was, in effect, openly saying:

Real economic growth had been cut in half—and the official figure would always be reported as 5 percent.

Later, he repeated the point at a forum in Washington.

After that, he was essentially subjected to “social death.”

To be socially dead is to be alive in body but already dead in public life.

Even more devastating was what he said about the real-estate crisis. He tore away the covering and named the “principal culprit” directly:

the government.

His words were:

“The principal culprit behind China’s economic depression is the government, which created the real-estate crisis; private property developers are suffering arterial bleeding from the neck.”

This came from a 2024 speech that was later deleted. The title itself was along those lines.

He directly blamed the real-estate liquidity crisis on the Party’s mode of leadership and described private enterprises as suffering from “arterial bleeding.”

And this was already 2024.

To call such remarks merely “the harshest possible criticism” would already be putting it politely.

As an economist, his lament for the Chinese economy and his resistance to excessive government coercion increasingly resembled a man offering his life in remonstrance—a man sacrificing himself for what he believed to be true.

Had Heaven possessed eyes, or had those high in the halls of power possessed wisdom enough to listen to Gao’s counsel, perhaps the Chinese economy would not have continued deteriorating, and perhaps society as a whole would not have gone racing headlong northward.

Yesterday, Xinhua News Agency published yet another grand discourse praising the “brilliant achievements of North Korea’s development.”

What stronger proof could there be?

China is once again accelerating in its naked sprint toward the North.

North Korea today is our tomorrow.

Kim Jong Un’s method of ruling the Party and the country is becoming the preferred model.

But there is no such thing as “if” in the real world.

For Gao Shanwen, the road of martyrdom became the only road left—like the one narrow path up Mount Hua.

In fact, as early as 2018, Gao had already issued a warning:

“Young people, wash up and go to sleep.”

That came from a private speech in 2018.

At the time, he criticized the indiscriminate, one-size-fits-all deleveraging campaign and predicted that it would trigger a liquidity crisis among private enterprises.

Six years later, looking back, his warning was largely vindicated.

He now appears almost like Liu Bowen, the legendary strategist and prophet of more than a thousand years ago.

At this moment, another story with a remarkably similar resonance comes to mind.

I was there in person, although the supporting players are no longer present. The main speaker, to a greater or lesser extent, had absorbed some of the theoretical insights later associated with Gao Shanwen.

Around September 2019—I no longer remember the exact month—at Peking University Shenzhen Graduate School, the prominent economist Jin Yanshi made two statements that would later circulate widely in the marketplace:

First:

2019 was the worst year of the previous ten years, but it would be the best year of the next ten years.

Second:

According to the direction set at the highest level, the private economy has, up to this point, already completed its historical mission. Its good days are gone and will never return.

After Jin Yanshi finished speaking, I returned to the entrepreneurs around me and earnestly repeated the message.

And here comes that word “if” again.

If those entrepreneurs had understood what was being said at the time, how different might things have been?

Faced today with Xinhua News Agency’s lengthy June discourse on “The Great Process of the Three Great Socialist Transformations,” entrepreneurs are trembling.

That includes, but is not limited to, the five people who reportedly took their own lives recently, among them the head of Easyhome.

Perhaps their outcomes might have been different.

But there is no “if.”

Just as there was no “if” for Gao Shanwen.

At the end of 2024, the Securities Association of China issued a document requiring chief economists to report externally directed public remarks in advance.

Those whose “improper words or conduct” repeatedly created reputational risks were to be dealt with severely, up to and including dismissal.

On November 24, 2025, Gao Shanwen left SDIC Securities. His information could no longer be found on the website of the Securities Association of China. Contemporary financial reporting likewise reported his departure and the disappearance of his registration information.

Gao Shanwen became a typical example of what happens when there is no “if.”

Did Gao Shanwen give meaning to the idea of dying in remonstrance?

Or did dying in remonstrance give meaning to Gao Shanwen?

Gao Shanwen could no longer concern himself with whatever floods might come after his death.

Yet reality, almost inadvertently, bestowed upon him an extraordinary honor:

the internet has been flooded with essays, tributes and surging waves of remembrance.

Of course, some people have compared Gao Shanwen with Li Keqiang, implying that Gao did not deserve such a high level of public tribute.

I disagree.

Li Keqiang was not merely a member of the CCP wolf pack; he stood at the very summit of its halls of power.

Had he not been sufficiently ruthless, or sufficiently complicit in a system of evil—even if not always skillful in exercising that evil—he could never have risen to such a position.

And yet, in the end, he merely uttered one famous truth:

“There are more than 600 million people in China whose monthly income is around 1,000 yuan.”

More importantly, at the 20th National Congress of the Chinese Communist Party, when the entire Party organization—symbolized by Hu Jintao and Li Keqiang himself—was humiliated before the eyes of 1.4 billion Chinese people, they chose silence.

At that moment, silence was unquestionably complicity.

Had Li Keqiang smashed his cup and risen in open defiance, perhaps today’s China might already have been transformed.

Perhaps, in doing so, he might even have saved himself from his own untimely death.

Gao Shanwen, however, needs only these lines—lines that are not quite poetry, yet deserve to live like poetry—to achieve immortality:

Those who control the productive forcesare suited to going overseas;

those who control the relations of productionare suited to remaining inside the country.

As for me,

I am the means of production.

As an economist, as an intellectual with a conscience, and finally as one more piece of “means of production,” Gao Shanwen was at last exhausted by the CCP state and died of illness on July 7, 2026.

With this essay, I pay tribute to Mr. Gao and to all those “means of production” throughout the world who have already been used up—or are still waiting to be used up.

And I offer this as a memorial sacrifice

to the Chinese economy that has already died.

Editor: Zhou ZhigangProofreader: Xiong BianTranslator: Shen Meihua