China’s tech sector remains robust, largely due to extensive support from the government. This, as noted by various commentators, has even spurred innovation in unexpected ways.
My interest was piqued when I explored how activist developers thrived under the constraints of the “Great Firewall,” which is China’s system for controlling internet access.
It seems these restrictions, which clash with societal norms, tend to provoke discontent, leading to creative solutions rather than submission. Instead of simply accepting the system, these developers have built pathways to navigate it.
Over the last ten years, the ranks of software engineers and entrepreneurs in China have expanded, collaborating to create a new wave of tools designed to counteract censorship. These innovations are reaching millions within China and beyond.
A pivotal moment came in 2011, when a developer named Clowwindy introduced a groundbreaking tool that circumvents censorship undetected. Shadowsocks cleverly disguises VPN traffic to avoid detection, akin to using camouflage.
In 2015, another transformative tool, V2ray, emerged. A prominent developer remarked that it was a “game changer.” It allowed users to morph VPN traffic, making it appear as everyday activities—like video chats or regular browsing—thereby reducing the risk of detection.
Both of these tools remain operational, alongside many others that have followed suit. Their effectiveness was notable enough that Google adopted Shadowsocks for its own VPN service during the 2022 protests in Iran.
The ongoing success of these “firewall climbers” isn’t merely about individual ingenuity; it’s about a vibrant community of developers who continue to innovate. Despite the potential risks, they can work together, often using encrypted platforms like Telegram and Signal, as well as collaborative coding sites like GitHub.
GitHub data reveals a dramatic increase in the development of censorship circumvention tools in China. Back in 2013, only 45 developers were involved with projects like Shadowsocks. By 2023, that number soared to over a thousand. While some users have adopted new identities for security, the overall productivity of the community has improved significantly. The number of code changes—referred to as commits—has increased more than 20-fold since 2013, and these tools are now available across all leading operating systems.
Developers discuss their projects in various chat rooms, making decisions through a combination of deliberation and consensus. When disagreements arise, they sometimes splinter off to follow different paths, either alone or in smaller groups.
Despite stringent efforts to enhance the Great Firewall, this community has effectively countered many of those changes. While some tasks require technical expertise, many maintenance duties are simple enough for anyone to manage, which encourages community involvement. One developer explained how she transitioned from user to contributing member after identifying bugs and suggesting enhancements.
The tools created by this community are open-source, allowing anyone to use them freely. However, most users seek accessible, user-friendly applications, often willing to pay for convenience.
This demand has led to a thriving black market for apps and tools dubbed “airports,” a term derived from the Shadowsocks logo resembling a paper airplane.
An “airport” is essentially a small, loosely structured VPN service. For instance, someone might set up a server and share access with friends, receiving payment via platforms like WeChat. However, these operations often skirt legal boundaries. One operator mentioned serving up to 2,000 paying clients, charging around 12 yuan—approximately $1.50—per user monthly. While this is considered affordable, it provides a steady income stream for him, alongside time spent educating clients and maintaining servers that have been blocked by the Great Firewall.
So, just how large is the airport market? During my investigation, I gathered data on about 4,000 unique airports active over the last five years. By analyzing Telegram follower counts and member data from four specific airports, we estimated the number of actual users.
Our preliminary findings suggest that the total user base for Black Market Airports exceeds 90 million. These estimates are somewhat conservative, as they do not account for smartphone apps, yet they illustrate the vast scope of underground development in China.
Interestingly, the airport providers don’t seem to impede the volunteer developers I spoke with; they leverage the same open-source technology. According to one perspective, these providers facilitate an “easy to use” and “cost-effective” way for more people to bypass restrictions.
Ensuring broad access to unrestricted internet is no small feat, and efforts from the volunteer community alone are often insufficient.
Some developers express that their work isn’t politically motivated but rather reflects practical needs and desires that contest imposed limitations. This aligns with sociologist Aceph Byatt’s concept of “non-movement,” where activities outside traditional protest methods subtly weaken state control.
Ironically, the very internet restrictions that aim to stifle growth may have instead fostered a surge of home-grown technological talent, a phenomenon supporting China’s emergence as a digital superpower. Many developers of anti-censorship software work long hours at tech companies, including those focused on AI.
