–中共统治下的戾气、恐惧与信任崩塌
作者：赵雪峰
这些年来，许多人都有一种感受：中国社会的戾气似乎越来越重。地铁里一次碰撞可能演变成争吵，开车时谁也不愿让步，网络上一句意见不合就可能招来辱骂。面对陌生人的困难，有些人的第一反应并非帮助，而是警惕：“会不会被骗？”“会不会被讹？”
于是有人问：中国人为什么变得越来越冷漠？
但真正应该问的，也许不是“中国人怎么了”，而是：究竟是什么样的社会环境，让越来越多的普通人学会了防备、沉默和攻击？
中国人当然不是天生缺乏善意。灾难发生时有人捐款，陌生人遇到危险时也有人挺身而出。真正值得思考的是：一个社会究竟是在鼓励善意，还是在不断提高信任和善良的成本？
过去几十年，中国在高速发展的同时，也形成了极其激烈的竞争环境。住房、教育、工作、医疗、养老，每一样都关系到家庭的安全感。如今又叠加了房地产调整、就业和收入压力。当越来越多人觉得生活空间正在被压缩，人就更容易把身边的人视为竞争者。
问题不再是“规则为什么不公平”，而变成了“别人是不是占了我的便宜”。
更值得注意的是愤怒的流向。
任何社会都会有不满。工资被拖欠、房子烂尾、政策不合理，人自然会愤怒。区别在于，人有没有安全而有效的渠道表达这种愤怒。一个值得讨论的现象是：当向权力表达不满的成本很高，而攻击普通人的成本很低时，愤怒就更容易横向释放。
对老板的不满不能说，于是回家骂孩子；对现实的不满无处表达，于是在网络上攻击陌生人；自己曾遭受过不公平待遇，等拥有一点权力，又把同样的不公平施加给更弱的人。最终形成了一种令人悲哀的社会关系：面对强者谨小慎微，面对弱者却异常苛刻。
而冷漠，有时也未必意味着没有良心。中国人从小常听到一句话：“少管闲事。”为什么看到别人遇到困难不愿帮？因为怕惹麻烦。为什么看到不公平选择沉默？因为担心影响自己。
当一个社会长期让参与公共事务、帮助陌生人、公开表达不同意见意味着额外风险时，“冷漠”就可能成为一种自我保护。于是人们逐渐学会：不要相信陌生人，不要多说话，不要出头，不要管与自己无关的事情。久而久之，被消耗掉的正是社会最宝贵的东西——人与人之间的信任。
所以，我不愿意把这些问题简单归结为“中国人素质差”。
在中共长期一党执政、政治权力高度集中的体制下，媒体、结社和政治表达受到了严格限制。当批评权力的成本高于攻击普通人的成本，当人无法改变规则却又每天承受规则带来的压力，那么压力就更容易在人群之间转移。这正是我所说的中共长期统治之下形成的一种畸形社会生态。
所谓“畸形”，不是说中国这个民族出了问题，而是正常的人被放进了一个不正常的激励结构之中。当说真话需要计算代价，沉默就会成为理性选择；当帮助别人可能带来麻烦，冷漠就会成为自我保护；当正常的利益表达渠道受到限制，愤怒就更容易变成人与人之间的攻击。
所以真正应该追问的不是“中国人怎么了”，而是：为什么一个拥有无数善良普通人的社会，会逐渐形成彼此防备、彼此伤害的生存逻辑。
如果一个社会最终让人害怕权力、提防邻居、攻击弱者、习惯沉默，那么最值得反思的就不只是人的“素质”，而是这个社会为什么会被塑造成今天这个样子，作为统治者的中共，难辞其咎。
编辑：李晶 校对：孔祥庆 翻译：戈冰
Why Are Chinese People Becoming Increasingly Indifferent?
— Hostility, Fear, and the Collapse of Trust Under CCP Rule
By Zhao Xuefeng
Abstract: Under the dictatorial cultural rule constructed by the CCP, the Chinese people are becoming increasingly fractured and atomized.
In recent years, many people have felt that society in China seems to be growing ever more hostile. A minor bump on the subway can escalate into a heated quarrel; drivers on the road refuse to yield an inch; and a single disagreement online can invite a barrage of verbal abuse. Faced with a stranger in distress, the first reaction of some is not to offer help, but to remain vigilant: “Is this a scam?” “Will I be framed?”
Thus, some ask: Why have Chinese people become increasingly indifferent?
However, the question that truly ought to be asked is perhaps not “What is wrong with the Chinese people?”, but rather: What kind of social environment has driven an increasing number of ordinary people to learn self-defense, silence, and aggression?
Chinese people, of course, are not naturally devoid of goodwill. When disaster strikes, there are those who donate; when strangers are in danger, there are also those who step forward. What is truly worth pondering is: is a society ultimately encouraging goodwill, or is it continually raising the cost of trust and kindness?
Over the past few decades, along with rapid development, China has also fostered an intensely fierce competitive environment. Housing, education, employment, healthcare, and eldercare—every single one directly impacts a family’s sense of security. Today, this is further compounded by real estate market adjustments, as well as employment and income pressures. As more and more people feel that their living space is being squeezed, they become far more prone to viewing those around them as competitors.
The question is no longer “Why are the rules unfair?”, but has transformed into “Is someone else taking advantage of me?”
What deserves even greater attention is the direction in which anger flows.
Dissatisfaction exists in any society. When wages are withheld, housing developments are left unfinished, or policies are unreasonable, people naturally feel angry. The difference lies in whether people possess safe and effective channels to express this anger. A phenomenon worth discussing is that when the cost of expressing dissatisfaction to authority is exceedingly high, while the cost of attacking ordinary people is exceedingly low, anger flows far more easily horizontally.
Dissatisfaction with one’s boss cannot be voiced, so one goes home to scold the children; discontent with reality has no outlet for expression, so one attacks strangers on the internet; having once suffered unfair treatment oneself, upon gaining a small measure of power, one imposes the exact same unfairness onto those who are even weaker. Ultimately, this forms a tragic pattern of social relations: displaying utmost caution and deference before the powerful, yet being exceptionally harsh toward the weak.
And indifference, at times, does not necessarily signify a lack of conscience. Chinese people often hear a saying from childhood: “Mind your own business.” Why are people reluctant to help when they see others in difficulty? Because they fear bringing trouble upon themselves. Why do people choose silence when facing injustice? Because they worry it will affect them.
When a society systematically makes participating in public affairs, helping strangers, and publicly expressing dissenting views carry extra risk over a prolonged period, “indifference” can become a form of self-preservation. People thus gradually learn: do not trust strangers, do not say too much, do not stick your neck out, and do not meddle in matters that do not concern you. Over time, what gets eroded away is precisely society’s most precious asset—trust among people.
Therefore, I am unwilling to simply attribute these problems to “poor moral character among Chinese people.”
Under the regime of long-term one-party rule and highly centralized political power by the CCP, the media, freedom of association, and political expression are severely restricted. When the cost of criticizing power is higher than the cost of attacking ordinary citizens, and when people cannot change the rules yet endure the pressures imposed by those rules every single day, that pressure becomes far more likely to shift laterally among the population. This is precisely what I refer to as the distorted social ecology formed under the CCP’s long-term rule.
What is called “distorted” does not mean that something is wrong with the Chinese nation as a people; rather, it means that normal human beings have been placed inside an abnormal incentive structure. When telling the truth requires calculating the cost, silence becomes a rational choice; when helping others may bring trouble, indifference becomes self-preservation; and when normal channels for expressing interests are restricted, anger far more easily turns into mutual attack among individuals.
Therefore, what truly ought to be questioned is not “What is wrong with the Chinese people?”, but rather: why does a society possessing countless kind-hearted, ordinary individuals gradually develop a logic of survival defined by mutual guard and mutual harm?
If a society ultimately causes people to fear power, beware of neighbors, attack the weak, and grow accustomed to silence, then what is most worthy of reflection is not merely the “moral quality” of its people, but why this society came to be shaped into what it is today—a state of affairs for which the CCP, as the ruling entity, bears undeniable responsibility.
Editor: Li Jing Proofreader: Kong Xiangqing Translator: Ge Bing
