Victor Shih on Xi Jinping's Control, AI "Brakes," Local Debt, and What Comes After Xi

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Overview

In this conversation, Dwarkesh Patel interviews Victor Shih, director of the 21st Century China Center at UC San Diego and a specialist in Chinese elite politics, banking, and fiscal policy. The host's recurring question is how competent the Chinese political system actually is. Its leaders are highly educated, spend most of their time in policy meetings, and consult experts. Yet the system has produced disasters like prolonged Zero-COVID. Shih's answer runs through the whole discussion. The Party is capable and listens to expertise, but it consistently ranks preserving its own power above technical or welfare considerations. Under Xi Jinping, that power is concentrated in one man to an unusual degree. Shih uses this lens to explain China's approach to AI, its local debt burden, its industrial finance, the Taiwan question, and the risks of succession.

36 min read

Is China More Decentralized Than the US?

The host opens with a statistic that seems to cut against the image of a top-down authoritarian state. Roughly 85% of government spending in China is by provincial and local governments and only 15% by the national government. In the US the split is about 50/50. Does this mean China is actually quite decentralized?

Shih's answer is that it was, from the mid-1970s to the mid-1990s. During that period local governments raised a great deal of revenue and spent a great deal. According to Shih, most economists believe this arrangement gave localities incentives to do "basically good things": attract as much foreign direct investment and local investment as possible, offer tax breaks, and so on. The result was a strong period of largely private-sector-driven growth.

That changed with the 1994 tax centralization. Shih describes Beijing's reasoning as a fear of ending up like the Soviet Union and breaking into pieces, which required central control over fiscal income. The central government took the most lucrative tax, the value-added tax. In later decades it took nearly every other tax category as well, and then reimbursed part of the money to the provinces. Officially, provinces can spend those transfers as they wish. In practice, Shih says, the money comes with conditions: do what the center wants and you get the grant.

Fiscal autonomy has therefore been declining since 1994, with fluctuations. From about 2000 to 2020, localities regained some independence through land sales during the real estate boom. They could not control tax revenue, but they could control land revenue. Shih says the central government "basically killed the land market in 2022," and that localities are now highly dependent on the center. The large local share of spending reflects local execution of central priorities, not local autonomy.

Are the Politburo's PhDs Real Technocrats?

Many Politburo members hold advanced degrees in economics, engineering, and even Marxist theory. The host asks whether these credentials should be taken seriously.

Shih says it varies by person. Former Premier Li Keqiang studied economics as an undergraduate under one of China's best economists, and Shih thinks he did understand economics. Today's Politburo also contains a wing of "military-industrialists" trained as engineers at China's top programs. One example is Ma Xingrui, Party Secretary of Xinjiang and a Tsinghua graduate. Another is Zhang Guoqing, who worked in the military industry for years and graduated from one of the top science programs. These people do know a lot about science. Whether that means they know how to govern is, Shih says, a different question.

Other cases are less impressive. Ding Xuexiang, who oversees cybersecurity, has a technical background in metallurgical forging. Shih describes his school as not "the MIT of China" but closer to "the IIT of China": a second-tier science institute founded by a Soviet expert to teach China metallurgy.

Shih argues that what really determines who rises is political acumen, which cannot be known in advance, except in the case of princelings. The children of senior officials are distinctive not because of their genes but because they grow up learning politics from their parents. Some of them become very successful without degrees from the best universities. Graduates of Peking University and Tsinghua are disproportionately represented in the Politburo but do not dominate it. In the end, Shih says, advancement is "somewhat random."

Why Educated Leaders Make Poor Policy Choices

The host asks how to reconcile this educated leadership with policies such as Zero-COVID, which included scrubbing airport runways and lasted far too long.

Shih says competence is not the main problem. There are many channels through which lower-level expertise reaches the top, and the system is "not so dysfunctional on that score." The recurring cause of suboptimal policy is the Party's instinct to preserve itself and, worse, to preserve its power. Shih paraphrases the mindset this way. Even if a policy would improve public health and the Party would survive politically, the Party will reject it if it means losing power, such as weaker control over banks or more independent scientists. The costs of that choice, whether some deaths or slower growth for a few years, are acceptable if power is preserved.

The host then asks why leaders who presumably learned basic economics would oppose things like rebalancing toward consumption. Shih gives a traditional reason and a newer one.

The traditional reason is educational tracking. Chinese students are sorted into STEM or into social sciences and humanities. STEM students may never learn supply and demand. For a period, especially the 1990s, engineering students commonly took an economics class, but older officials would not have. The one course everyone must still take is government ideology, and that requirement has increased. Shih, who reviews applications from Chinese students, notes that they now take a class called "Situation and Policy" once a year. It presents the government's perspective on various issues and teaches no basic skills like economics or accounting. As a result, a senior official with a PhD in nuclear engineering may know very little about how markets or society work.

The newer reason is Xi Jinping's dominance. Politburo membership used to confer some autonomy over one's policy domain. Shih says that is no longer true. If Xi expresses a preference, officials must follow it. If he sees someone dragging their feet or pursuing a slightly different agenda, that person can be purged, and Shih says there have been such cases.

Xi as Micromanager: Study Sessions and Leading Small Groups

The host compares Xi to Stalin's habit of micromanaging everything from theater productions to steel output. Shih agrees that Xi spends astonishing amounts of time in meetings. Chinese leaders do not "play golf 3 days out of the week." Xi and his colleagues meet on policy almost every day, about 270 days a year.

On the Politburo study sessions, Shih has spoken with people who lectured to the Politburo, and he considers the sessions "somewhat real." Leaders know the prepared remarks in advance, but the Q&A is not staged, and speakers do not know what they will be asked. Shih notes that this is frightening for a professor. Xi's remarks after such lectures then become policy.

The Leading Small Groups (LSGs) are where Shih sees the structural problem. An LSG must be headed by its most senior-ranked member. With Xi as head, no one can challenge his authority, but nearly all other members rank below him. Previously, when decisions were made in the Politburo Standing Committee, all members held notionally equivalent Party and bureaucratic rank. That allowed real debate, and historically there were even cases of overturning the Party Secretary General's position. In an LSG, there is usually at most one other person of comparable rank, such as the Premier. Everyone else is a vice premier, minister, or provincial governor, and none of them will debate Xi. Even the officially comparable member would not dare disagree, because Xi is so powerful informally. Once decision-making moved into LSGs, Shih says, "the whole thing... became Xi Jinping."

This is also very demanding for Xi personally. Before each meeting he receives a briefing book listing policy options and must choose. He surely consults others at times, but he has to engage with a huge range of policy areas daily because his decisions effectively become law. The host notes the scale involved: a remark at the end of a meeting can set policy for a population comparable to all of the Americas.

What Does Xi Actually Understand?

The host notes that official speeches are vague. Shih pushes back somewhat: after reading thousands of them, one sees that they can be quite revealing. On the question of Xi's personal analytical ability, Shih separates domains. On internal Party matters, such as controlling the Party apparatus and the military, Xi has "a really good political nose." Shih says this is visible in speeches aimed at Party members, which are not secret and which he has read in China. On economics, Xi seems to work from talking points supplied by advisors. On technology, Xi cares a great deal, but mainly as a matter of competition with the US, which Shih considers a very important personal objective for him. Shih is unsure how well Xi understands the details and does not think he necessarily does.

Still, Shih judges Xi probably better prepared than American leaders, "especially today," because Chinese experts speak with the top leadership constantly. The host responds that the American system's advantage is that, in theory, it can survive a leader who is not up to the job.

Ding Xuexiang: The Trusted Lieutenant Who Would Oversee AI

The host is especially interested in Ding Xuexiang. Ding is one of the seven members of the Politburo Standing Committee, the key body within the 25-member Politburo. He runs the Central Science and Technology Commission, so any large-scale Chinese AI effort would fall under him.

Shih adds another important role. Xi himself heads the Central Commission on Cybersecurity, but Ding has run the commission's administrative office, which handles its day-to-day operations, since 2022. Shih therefore expects that Ding now knows the major players and key policy issues.

Shih calls Ding's relationship with Xi "a mystery." Ding worked directly under Xi for only one year, in Shanghai. There he served as a very senior secretary supporting whoever was Shanghai Party Secretary, and he served three of them. After that year, Xi trusted him absolutely. Shih has searched the open literature and asked people in Shanghai, and no one knows why. His guess is that Ding gathered information on other Shanghai leaders and passed it to Xi. At the time, former leader Jiang Zemin had a strong base in Shanghai that Xi needed to break up. But Shih notes that many people did that kind of thing for Xi, so what else earned Ding such trust remains unknown.

The trust itself is visible in Ding's career. In 2013 he became second-in-command of Xi's personal office, managing the flow of information to and from Xi's desk. A few years later he became its head. In 2017 he took over the entire apparatus governing Xi's daily life. He is now a Vice Premier responsible for cybersecurity.

Later in the conversation, Shih offers an overall assessment. Ding must have great political acumen to have earned Xi's trust. His technical training is in metallurgy, but he spent decades in Shanghai and understands private corporations, international trade, and FDI. Among Politburo and Standing Committee members, Shih places him "definitely in the top quartile" of people one would want in charge of AI, "if not the top two or three."

"Developing the Brakes": The Party's Approach to AGI

Shih finds Ding's speech at Davos especially revealing. Ding said China must invest in AI but cannot go all out without knowing what the brakes are, and that the brakes must be developed at the same time. Shih contrasts this with the US, where development is driven by the private sector and, with one or two exceptions, companies invest as fast as possible to reach AGI. The Chinese government, he says, fears that an actor outside or even inside the Party could use AI to usurp the Party's power. It therefore wants to be able to stop everything if necessary. For the Party, developing the brakes is as important as developing the AI.

The host describes their own expectations: computer-use agents that do real work within about a year, most white-collar work (potentially 40% of the economy) automated within five years, and eventually full AGI and robotics. The host asks what organizational signals would show how seriously the Party takes this. Shih expects AI to remain under the cybersecurity leading group, and therefore under Ding, rather than getting a new AGI group, because security is what matters most to the Party. Automating industrial production is something China already does well and does not require new governance structures. But when AI is applied to governance or services, such as generating video content or acting as a travel agent, the Party is "very paranoid" that a hostile actor, foreign or domestic, could cause the technology to take off and undermine its authority.

Shih therefore expects institutional development at the lower levels rather than the top. He predicts that people will be designated in every government agency and every commercial entity using AI, with the power to "put their foot on the brake."

The host points out that the reaction to DeepSeek so far has been highly enthusiastic. Tech companies were encouraged to adopt it and did so quickly, and Xi met with Liang Wenfeng alongside industrial leaders and called for accelerating technology. Shih does not see a contradiction. The government will pour in money and help DeepSeek source GPUs. But Shih says he is "all but certain" that DeepSeek's headquarters has a person or team who can pull the plug, because every major Chinese internet company has one. As an example of a trigger, Shih says that if an AI system began generating Falun Gong-related content faster than censors could control it, the authorities would halt its generation of new images and videos.

Who Would Marshal the Resources?

The host asks who would coordinate a mobilization such as directing all of Huawei's GPUs to DeepSeek or allocating land and energy for data centers. Shih finds the question interesting. Physical investment would require sharing power with other bodies. Power infrastructure falls under the NDRC, and the relevant leaders could be Li Qiang or He Lifeng, especially He, who oversees investment and financing. Shih says this could justify some kind of AGI leading group. Alternatively, if Xi did not want to share power, he could give everything to Ding by fiat or create a separate organization. For now, Shih thinks the rapid data center construction in China is using existing command structures. He adds a possible foreign dimension. If the Gulf states build large cloud computing capacity, China might be the customer willing to pay billions, which would require coordination by the foreign policy apparatus. The host calls this "Belt and Road v2," and Shih agrees.

Shih argues that who controls these bodies matters, because some trusted decision-makers have performed poorly, perhaps being trusted precisely because they depend on Xi. His example is He Lifeng, the Vice Premier for finance and chief negotiator with the US. Shih says He is known for starting and sustaining "the largest real estate bubble the world has ever seen" in Tianjin, including a "New Manhattan" the size of Manhattan filled with empty office buildings. The host describes visiting a similar project: a newly built Buddhist temple complex at Emeishan with five successively larger shrines and almost no visitors, which the head monk said was funded by donations. Shih says, "I don't think so."

Content Control as a Roadblock

Shih expects content creation to be a major obstacle for Chinese AI. The Party is so worried about online content that it places people throughout the system to slow transmission. Even with AI generating large amounts of content, algorithms and humans will double- and triple-check it. The host objects that censorship has coexisted with leading content companies such as RedNote, TikTok, and WeChat, and that AI might be easier to control because it can be trained not to say certain things. Shih's reply is that even with a model they consider well trained, the authorities will still want a human checking everything.

DeepSeek as a Window Into Party Policy

Asked whether large language models help in studying the CCP, Shih says he uses AI extensively, both to automate the coding of text that used to be done by hand and to track government activity. Some American models are "okay," including Grok, but DeepSeek has been the most helpful. Even with simple prompts such as "What is the Chinese government doing when it comes to AI?", it returns high-quality links to recent policy documents, meetings, and statements by senior officials. Shih infers that DeepSeek, originally developed by the hedge fund High-Flyer to trade Chinese markets, was trained partly to detect important government policy documents and meetings. Other Chinese models he has tried, including Baidu's, seem more oriented toward social media content. Asked about AI, they talk about AI applications rather than policy. Shih stresses that this is an inference from observation. His explanation for why a hedge fund would do this is that in China, government policy has a huge effect on stock prices, making it a source of alpha. People once phoned friends in ministries for inside information, and High-Flyer may have found that algorithmic reading of policy documents also works. Shih does not install DeepSeek on his phone. He uses the web interface, and some collaborators run the open-source model on local hardware.

The Cultural Revolution's Lessons, and Xi Compared With Stalin

The host asks why leaders who suffered under Party excesses during the Cultural Revolution, including Xi, still insist on Party control of everything. Shih says that generation drew two kinds of lessons. Some concluded the Party was too dictatorial and China should liberalize, and many of them left for the US in the 1980s. Others, including Xi as Shih interprets him, concluded that one must never be on the losing side of a political struggle, because the winners can do terrible things to their enemies.

Shih describes Xi building coalitions for decades. Data from Xi's time in Fujian in the late 1980s and early 1990s show him spending unusual amounts of time with military officers. He built a dormitory for them and even joined an anti-aircraft regiment, which most local officials would not do. Thirty years later, as Xi was about to become General Secretary, many of those officers were generals commanding important units, and Xi promoted some of them. More recently he has purged some of them, which Shih finds "really interesting." In Shih's view, Xi had a strategic vision of his own career and pursued it with determination.

On the comparison with Stalin, Shih stresses that he does not know much about Stalin, but he sees similarities early in their careers. Both were outwardly low-key and seen as reliable. Stalin was a quiet bureaucrat, unlike the flamboyant Trotsky. Xi's father belonged to the Party's liberal faction and had offended relatively few people. While other princelings competed for posts in Beijing or Shanghai, Xi went to rural Hebei, then to peripheral Fujian, then to Zhejiang, avoiding the infighting. Once in power, both knew how to control their parties. They formed a coalition to remove the most threatening rival, then formed another to remove the next, until they held absolute power. Xi's first target was Zhou Yongkang, who controlled the police and the Ministry of State Security, was "fabulously corrupt," and was, in Shih's words, a threat to the whole Party. Xi persuaded Hu Jintao to join him in purging Zhou. Shih compares this to Stalin's treatment of Trotsky. Asked for a Trotsky-like figure, Shih names Bo Xilai. Shih says Bo's high profile meant he never had a chance at the top job, and Xi made sure he fell. Bo is now in prison for life.

The Local Government Debt Burden

Shih says local government debt keeps growing in absolute terms. China presents itself as having modest debt, and at the central level this is roughly true at 60-70% of GDP. But the center pushes many of its goals down to localities, and it also authorizes local debt issuance. In effect, Beijing tells local governments to do something, provides no money, and authorizes more borrowing instead. Late last year (relative to the interview), the center authorized close to 10 trillion renminbi in special local bonds to repay higher-interest local debt. Shih calls this an accounting exercise that lowers interest costs without reducing the debt. He estimates total local government debt at 120-140% of GDP, bringing total government debt close to 200%.

Unlike OECD debt, much of which reflects pension obligations, this debt financed high-speed rail and other infrastructure. More recently it has financed industrial policy: land acquisition and infrastructure for places like AI science parks, and local government "seeder funds" that use borrowed money to invest in startups alongside central investment funds. Which funding sources a startup can access depends heavily on its connections. A Tsinghua startup in a favored category such as semiconductors or AI may reach both private money and central seed funds. Shih says DeepSeek was mainly funded with private money from financial investors, while more hardware-focused AI projects in the provinces often rely on local government funds.

Financial Repression and "Socialist" Finance

Shih explains how the system is funded. Capital controls limit individuals to moving $20,000 a year out of China, so savers must invest domestically. Some choose Chinese tech, but many simply deposit money in state banks at around 1% interest, which Shih notes is paired with very low inflation. The state-controlled banks then use those deposits to finance local seeder funds and industrial policy.

The host asks why removing capital controls would send money out rather than in, since poorer countries should offer higher returns, and why China's stock market has performed poorly and China accumulates T-bills despite rapid growth. Shih frames his answer, which he acknowledges sounds philosophical, as a basic difference between capitalism and socialism. Socialism maximizes output, whether grain, metal, or now robotics, and uses the state banking system to direct capital toward it. Maximizing output does not mean making money. Capitalism maximizes profit. Chinese companies seek profits, Shih says, but the socialist financial system pushes them into socialist-like behavior. A bank will fund a firm that may never make money, as long as the government deems the sector strategic and the firm can prove it can produce the desired output.

The discipline comes from bureaucracy. For sectors like robotics or semiconductors, an expert group in the Ministry of Industry and Information Technology (MIIT) evaluates projects submitted by banks. A bureaucrat and an expert panel, who are "supposedly" neutral, approve or reject them, and the bank then lends. Shih repeats the word "supposedly" because there have been many cases of corruption.

To the host's objection that the system seems to work, Shih points to selection bias. Several celebrated successes were mostly privately funded at the start: Xiaomi, BYD, and, as the host adds, CATL, DJI, and High-Flyer. Huawei is one case where Shih sees substantial state funding. But he estimates that for every state-financed success there may be more than a dozen failures, with billions wasted. In semiconductors, dozens of MIIT officials responsible for approving deals were arrested and jailed after bogus projects were approved and funds diverted. Fraud exists in the US too, Shih says, but the scale of waste in China is much larger.

The Human Cost, and Whether AI Changes the Picture

The host suggests that currency devaluation (a tax on consumers) and financial repression (a tax on savers) may meaningfully reduce living standards. Shih agrees. After decades of growth above 5%, one would expect nearly everyone to have shelter and medical care. Instead, many migrant workers barely get by, homelessness is rising as the labor market weakens, and elderly care is very basic for many people, though former government and SOE employees can get good care. Shih says the government pursues the "fulfilled" part of its goals through technology, but not the part about helping people live good lives.

The host then asks whether, if AI greatly boosts growth, the debt problem might not affect China's frontier competitiveness, since wealthy provinces could keep funding AI and China might grow out of its debt. Shih is skeptical of the growth-out-of-debt idea. He agrees that Shanghai and Guangdong are in relatively good fiscal shape. Zhejiang, home to DeepSeek and Alibaba, has heavy debt but started wealthy enough to service it, although the trade war will hurt its export manufacturers. More fundamentally, the financial system serves the priorities of the Party, meaning Xi's priorities. AI is a high priority, as shown by study sessions, Politburo meetings, and Ding's role, so Shih expects substantial resources regardless of local debt. He gives a stark example of how little local distress matters to those priorities: some teachers and civil servants go unpaid four or five months a year. They stay because their alternatives, such as food delivery, are worse, and a government job still provides healthcare and a free cafeteria lunch, even though many formerly generous benefits have been cut.

Why Investment Stopped Paying Off, and How Corruption Drives Building

Shih says infrastructure was highly productive in the 1980s and 1990s when China lacked it. But after the first Beijing-Shanghai high-speed line, the second and third bring rapidly diminishing returns. Populations are shrinking, especially in cities in the northeast and southwest, which do not need high-speed rail "because nobody lives there anymore."

On why officials kept building even as Beijing viewed such growth as fake and many were later arrested, Shih describes a debate in his field. Some scholars argue that investment itself leads to promotion. Shih argues the link is rent-seeking. Large projects involve contractors, and contractors pay kickbacks. In his illustration, a $1 billion light rail project might generate $100 million in kickbacks, $50 million of which could go to a superior to improve promotion chances. He cites work by James Kung showing that selling land cheaply to politically connected princelings, who then lobby for the official, statistically increases the chance of promotion.

The host contrasts this with the US. In California, the political equilibrium lets many factions extract rent by delaying projects, such as a consulting fee to slow something down by five years. In Robert Caro's account of Robert Moses, by contrast, every faction benefited from completion: banks received discounted bonds and unions got jobs. Shih agrees. In the US, regulations create stakeholders and lobbies whose interest lies in prolonging processes. In China, a city or provincial Party secretary is the boss of most local regulators and can cut through red tape whenever he can benefit personally.

What a Solution Would Look Like

Shih stresses that the government "will never, ever in a million years" adopt his prescription in its current form. It would be to cut unnecessary spending on defense and much industrial policy, and use the savings to strengthen domestic demand through welfare while gradually reducing local debt. China already has the world's largest navy, top fighter jets, and missile systems, and in Shih's view no one is going to invade China. He is somewhat sympathetic to spending on chips given US export restrictions, but he believes subsidies for batteries and solar could be reduced. He also suggests taxing export-oriented firms, whose subsidies he says contribute to the trade surplus. The obstacle is the Party's priority on competing with the US and dominating supply chains. Shih questions the need for that in a world of global trade, and says the US does not need dominance over every supply chain either.

The host asks why economists recommend welfare spending rather than simply ending financial repression or currency devaluation. Shih's answer is that ending financial repression mainly helps net savers, the top 10-20% of households. China's huge deposits are concentrated in the top 10%, and the median household has little besides its home. Raising deposit rates to 4% would not help most people. Without better welfare, especially medical insurance, households will keep saving heavily against illness. He raises a similar concern about the US: cutting Medicaid could encourage precautionary saving and reduce consumption in the short term.

Taiwan

The host asks how likely a Taiwan invasion is this decade. Shih believes Xi sincerely wants unification, but not so strongly that he would take a very risky gamble. If he did, he would have acted during his 12 years in power, though pressure on Taiwan has increased. Shih also sees Xi as generally not a reckless policymaker. The host challenges this with Zero-COVID. Shih replies that it depends on the framing: keeping a lockdown too long was conservative, and the same framing applies to Taiwan.

The host suggests that China's investments in self-sufficiency in clean tech and semiconductors, along with stockpiling oil and grain, expanding the navy, and building amphibious capability, could be preparation for a moment when an invasion becomes feasible, something impossible in 2015. Shih acknowledges the "threshold" argument but believes the threshold is not fixed and moves with external factors. Ukraine likely raised it. Putin was confident of a quick victory and received bad intelligence, and Shih thinks Xi cannot rule out a similar outcome. Other factors could lower the threshold.

Experts, Information Flow, and Zero-COVID

This raises whether true information reaches Xi. The host cites Zero-COVID continuing into its third year and Xi asking in 2024 why China lacked billion-dollar tech unicorns, as if unaware of the 2021 tech crackdown. Shih says he is trying to study this with data, but his intuition is as follows. The top leadership always listens to experts and respects them, unlike "some cases in the US." But interest groups close to the leadership know this and bring in experts who support their positions. Xi then receives conflicting advice and must make gut calls. At other times, leaders accept that the experts are right but decline to act for political reasons. They would never say "fake news."

For Zero-COVID, Shih points to the timing of the policy and the decision not to buy Paxlovid at scale as possibly political. He cites a paper he co-authored showing the government knew experts considered US mRNA vaccines superior, but chose to support domestic pharmaceutical companies. Propaganda then began denigrating Western vaccines. The host asks how the government could ignore people locked in apartments without food. Shih's answer returns to the central theme: these are knowledgeable technocrats, but protecting the Party and state apparatus almost always outranks technical considerations. Pharmaceutical SOEs needed to survive, build national brands, and generate cash flow for "new biology," which is part of industrial planning.

Succession: Capital Flight and a Brutal Transition

There is no succession plan. If Xi died suddenly, Shih believes the most immediate result would be a financial crisis. Capital controls depend on fear. A billionaire might create fake paperwork, such as a billion-dollar invoice for a million Rolex watches from Singapore, and a bureaucrat at the State Administration of Foreign Exchange must approve large outflows. Today, that bureaucrat expects to be in jail within a week if they approve it. If no one in Beijing seems to be in charge, even for a week or two, a promised $100 million bribe could prevail. China's roughly $3 trillion in reserves is less than 5% of the money supply, so even rational reallocation of 10% of assets abroad would exhaust them. That would force massive devaluation and interest rates around 20%, causing mass bankruptcies. It can be stopped, Shih says, only if a command structure exists and people believe punishment will follow.

If Xi declined gradually, for example becoming senile in 2028 or 2030, Shih says history shows what does not work: naming a successor, who is almost certain to "die for sure, in a horrible way," as under Stalin and Mao. What might work is a trusted figure who represents the leader but cannot become number one. For Mao this was Jiang Qing. For Xi it could be his wife or his daughter, who Shih says is becoming more prominent. Shih says such figures cannot take the top job because of ingrained sexism in the Party and because they have never held official posts. A transitional figure could stabilize things while factions compete, hopefully peacefully. But such figures can be too weak: Jiang Qing was purged within weeks of Mao's death. The 1976 transition was otherwise peaceful because Long March veterans knew each other deeply. That generation is gone. Today's Politburo has high turnover and members from disparate bureaucracies with little mutual trust, which Shih believes is by design, since Xi does not want members close enough to conspire against him. Without that social capital, Shih expects the next transition to be "more ruthless, more brutal, and potentially more disruptive."

On factions, Shih says all are beholden to Xi, but there are pro-market figures, usually with coastal governing experience in places like Zhejiang or Shanghai, and statists from SOE careers, including the military-industrialists. Shih suggests the latter might be stabilizing. As in the Soviet Union after Stalin and around the Khrushchev transitions, they would support whoever keeps subsidizing their sectors, stabilizing politics while harming the economy.

Growth Forecast and Closing

Asked about 2040, setting AI aside, Shih forecasts China's economy at about 1 to 1.2 times the size of the US's. He distrusts PPP comparisons because quality differs: some Chinese goods are worse, and others are increasingly better. Measured in real terms rather than PPP, he puts China at about 70% of the US economy today. His reasons for this forecast, which the host calls bearish, are that growth was already slowing, trade pressure is rising, and high debt rules out a large consumption stimulus. China will therefore double down on investment and supply-side growth. But Shih doubts the world will switch entirely to BYD instead of Volkswagen and other brands. He expects significant pushback or limits. Even if China dominated Latin America, Africa, and the Middle East, those markets are not large enough. It would need Europe and North America, which will be very hard.

The host's final question is how to interview someone close to the Politburo. Shih says mid-level and senior officials can no longer leave China. The best option is a former vice minister who can travel to Hong Kong, or better yet Shenzhen, preferably someone already out of power. Whether they would speak openly depends on the person. Shih's closing observation is that in today's China, people are afraid to deviate from the Party line because they can get into real trouble.