Vulnerability theory, which has gained considerable traction in Western legal and philosophical discourses, particularly in Europe and North America, remains relatively unknown in Chinese legal academia. Despite various attempts to introduce the theory in China—including efforts by prominent scholars, such as my former supervisor, who launched the country’s first feminist jurisprudence course—the theory has yet to find a significant foothold in China’s legal scholarship or influence its legal reforms. This resistance is rooted, I believe, in the cultural reluctance of Chinese society to confront vulnerability directly.
Recent feminist discourse in China has notably expanded, particularly on social media, but much of this stems from fields outside of law, such as feminist sociology and comparative cultural studies. For instance, Chizuko Ueno’s address at the University of Tokyo, where she remarked, “feminism is about building a world where the vulnerable can be vulnerable without concerns,” resonated widely across Chinese platforms. However, this resonance seldom leads to a deeper engagement with vulnerability theory itself.
To address this gap, I recently introduced the core tenets of vulnerability theory to a group of young Chinese scholars and students, connecting its ideas to the development of feminism in China and discussing its potential implications for legal reform. Vulnerability theory, with its focus on the human condition as universally vulnerable, offers a valuable framework for analyzing long-standing cultural narratives such as the famous slogan, “women hold up half the sky,” often invoked in discussions of gender equality in socialist China. This slogan, while celebrated, oversimplifies the complexities of the challenges faced by women, particularly in the private sphere. Issues like domestic violence, the balance between work and child-rearing, and the lack of institutional support were historically minimized, as women were expected to manage these challenges independently as “strong women.”
The popularity of the phrase “一生要强的中国女人” (strong Chinese women) on social media today reflects this enduring cultural narrative. However, the concept of “awakening” that accompanies such representations often implies a sense of privilege, suggesting that women who have not yet “awakened” are somehow lacking. This avoidance of vulnerability is particularly harmful to survivors of domestic violence, who are frequently subjected to secondary victimization, and often being blamed for their circumstances. On platforms like Xiaohongshu, for example, it is not uncommon for women to be met with comments such as “if you don’t want to leave, don’t come out and claim to be abused.”
The reluctance to engage with vulnerability also hampers broader solidarity among women, particularly between urban middle-class women and their rural counterparts. During my lecture, many young participants remarked that China’s revolutionary culture has instilled a societal expectation of strength, which mirrors the rights-based approach of liberal feminism. No one feels they can afford to be vulnerable without being judged, resulting in a culture where resilience, rather than vulnerability, becomes the celebrated norm.
That said, materialist analyses still resonate with many Chinese youth, who express concern that vulnerability theory may be too idealistic for their socio-economic reality. Acknowledging the universal nature of vulnerability, they argue, must be balanced with recognition of the disparate levels of resilience that exist across different socio-economic groups, both within China and globally. For many, the real challenge lies in understanding how institutional frameworks shape varying capacities for resilience.
Some participants raised an important question: do individual differences lie in the capacity for resilience or in vulnerability itself? Based on my interactions, Chinese youth are generally more receptive to the idea of vulnerability as an inherent human condition, shaped by both personal experiences and broader social structures. Their lived realities—whether through the lens of situational, relational, or structural vulnerability—make them attuned to the ways individuals are institutionalized by their environments.
In the end, the lecture sparked a powerful conclusion among the participants: the greatest form of “awakening” lies not in denying or avoiding one’s vulnerability but in recognizing both one’s privilege and the vulnerabilities of others. This acknowledgment fosters a deeper understanding of the human condition—one that transcends cultural and societal expectations of strength.
