In the second half of one of my 2020 lockdown pieces, ( Churchill and the World as a Stuggle against Totalitarianism (link opens in new tab)) I wrote about China’s influence in the UK — particularly through its education system and the pressures placed on Chinese students studying abroad.
At the time, my concerns were framed in fairly robust terms: ideological conformity, academic freedom under threat, and the long reach of a totalitarian state. Looking back now, six years later, I can see that my instinct was not simply geopolitical – it was closer to Confucius than I realised.
In 2020, I asked the question: “Can they do that in China?” By “that,” I meant the democratic act of removing a leader, challenging authority, or thinking independently without fear of reprisal. It was a question born of contrast — between a society that can “chop down” its leaders and one that cannot. But what I did not yet understand is that Confucius himself would have been deeply critical of the modern Chinese state’s approach to authority.
Confucius Against Coercion
Confucius believed that authority must rest on virtue, not force. A ruler should lead by moral example, not by fear.
“If you lead the people with laws and punishments, they will avoid trouble but have no sense of shame.” (Analects 2.3)
He warned repeatedly against coercive conformity, ideological enforcement, suppression of dissent and manipulation of ritual for political ends. For Confucius, a society that demands obedience without cultivating virtue is fundamentally unstable. It may endure for a time, but it lacks the moral foundation that gives authority its legitimacy.
“If you lead them with virtue, they will correct themselves.” (Analects 2.3)
“The virtue of the gentleman is like the wind; the virtue of the small man is like the grass. When the wind blows, the grass bends.” (Analects 12.19)
This is why the modern Chinese state’s invocation of Confucius — in museums, speeches, and “Confucius Institutes” — is so paradoxical. It draws on the cultural prestige of Confucius while violating many of his core principles.
Chinese Students in the UK
My 2020 concerns about Chinese students in the UK — the pressure to affiliate with the CSSA, the fear of stepping outside the approved ideological line — were not simply political worries. They were, in retrospect, Confucian worries. I was troubled by the idea of young people being unable to think freely, unable to speak openly, unable to vote independently in student forums. I sensed that something essential was being constrained — not just academic freedom, but the moral development of the individual.
Confucius would have agreed.
For him, education was not about conformity but about self‑cultivation. The student must learn to discern right from wrong, to speak truthfully, to act with integrity. A system that punishes independent thought is not Confucian.
Virtue, Power, and the Long Game
In 2020, I wrote that “totalitarian regimes are in it for the long haul.” I still think that is true. But Confucius adds a deeper layer: a regime that rules through fear rather than virtue is always vulnerable, no matter how strong it appears. Confucius believed that: Power without virtue cannot sustain itself. A society that suppresses moral cultivation will eventually face disorder. The Mandate of Heaven — legitimacy — is always conditional.
“He who governs by virtue is like the North Star — it stays in its place while the other stars revolve around it.” (Analects 2.1)
This does not mean collapse is imminent. It means that legitimacy is not simply a matter of control; it is a matter of moral authority. In this sense, my 2020 anxieties were not misplaced. They were incomplete. I saw the threat to democratic freedom, but did not focus on the internal contradiction within the authoritarian model itself.
“The virtue of the gentleman is like the wind; the virtue of the small man is like the grass. When the wind blows, the grass bends.” (Analects 12.19)
What I See Now
Six years on, I can articulate what I sensed but could not yet express: my concern about China’s influence was not xenophobia; it was a concern for moral autonomy. My discomfort with ideological pressure on students was not cultural defensiveness; it was a defence of intellectual integrity. My fear of totalitarianism was not simply political; it was a fear of virtue being replaced by conformity.
Confucius gives language to these intuitions. He reminds us that the health of a society depends not only on its institutions but on the moral cultivation of its people. A state that demands obedience without virtue undermines its own foundations.