Cultural Citizenship at the Intersection of Television and New Media

Introduction

With the emergence and spread of new media in today’s civic life, we are witnessing a move of audience activities online. People living far apart can now watch television “together” via the help of online chat (Vance 2010). Television viewers further create online communities in which they share viewing experiences or rework the texts (Jenkins 2006). In this article, I discuss the notion of “cultural citizenship” at the intersection of television and new media, in terms of how popular media and new information and communication technologies converge and contribute to ordinary citizens’ political communication. In addition, I address recent discussions about cultural citizenship and consumption against the global spread of neoliberalism. Certain scholars have voiced concerns over how practices of cultural citizenship link to media consumption (Couldry 2010; Miller 2007). For them, if discussions of nonfactual media never permeate into real politics, then the beneficiary can only be the neoliberal state and the cultural industry, rather than the civil society.

This article introduces a necessary cultural revision proposed by the concept of cultural citizenship to the ongoing discussion about people’s use of television and the new media and its political implications. In making such a revision at the intersection of television and new media, this article makes two major contributions. First, it expands the recognition of the media’s democratic potential by not just looking at explicit political texts or talk, which is more heavily censored than implicit political expressions in certain political contexts. For countries that forbid or regulate political discussions, talking about nonpolitical media texts might provide a “cover” for such activities. Second, this article engages in both systematic content analysis and close textual analysis of audience activities online, which presents a more culturally rich perspective than surface content analysis alone.

This work studies a popular talent show, Super Girl, in China. Thanks to the introduction of neoliberal values in the country’s policy system, it has been experiencing staggering economic growth and technological development. Through close textual analysis of online discussions centered around Super Girl, this article demonstrates that popular media should be credited for its special role in the ritual aspect of being a citizen. By bridging aesthetic experiences and people’s everyday sense-making of their social life, popular media help people shape and express their core civic values, oftentimes in a more imaginative manner than fact-based serious media, thus constituting a meaningful aspect of civic life. I explore this argument in particular at the intersection of television and new media, which will shift the way the internet has been examined for its democratizing potentials.

The Internet and Political Citizenship

Since civic use of the internet started, observers have embraced it with great enthusiasm as this unprecedented medium was envisioned to potentially enhance a democracy (Barlow 2008; Coleman 2004). However, just like the evaluation of any “old media,” civic virtues of the new media viewed in a different light can be disenchanting vices. Self-identified skeptics dispute the democratic potentials of the internet by pointing out how the optimistic evaluations of these potentials can be unrealistic and deceiving (Dahlberg 2001; Hill and Hughes 1998; Papacharissi 2004).

Many of these competing evaluations are heavily influenced by traditional conceptualizations of citizenship. For example, central to the idea of “citizenship” proposed by T.H. Marshall (1950) is the notion of “equality.” By granting a set of social rights (and accompanying duties), the status of “citizenship” is a force in balancing social inequality originating in class differences. Correspondingly, what social scientists have emphasized most in their exploration of legit citizen activities are the kinds that help advance their civic rights, form their political opinions, and voice such opinions. As a guarantee for the formation of such a strong public, Habermas (1984) maintains, participants in the public discourse should all be willing to engage in equal, reflexive, reciprocal, rational-critical discussion. The ideal citizen should actively seek out information for their participation in the public discourse, rationally reflect on their own experiences and arguments, and fairly engage with other participants.

Scholars have vigorously studied the internet in terms of its potential to create ideal speech situations and public spheres (Habermas (1962) 1989), or lack thereof. They in particular focus on online political discussions and examine them empirically using various configurations of standards based off of Habermas’s ideal type, such as whether the discussion is free and open to all, whether it is rational (uses outside sources to back up claims), whether it is reciprocal, etc.

Such a political conceptualization of citizenship, together with its instrumental orientation, has heavily influenced the examination of the internet and political communication in non-Western contexts as well. For example, Fung (2002) points out that although state interference in the online political discussion is generally neglected in the Western world, it is still a major obstacle for truly open, free discussion to happen in less developed democracies. He observes that the central government of China employs “professional writers” to insert the state voice in all corners of internet chat rooms in Hong Kong and help create a bottom-up participatory control. Failing to see actual political change to arise from their opinion expressions, normal citizens end up voicing the most extreme opinions. Sacrificed in this process is the diversity of opinions, which many cyber optimists celebrate.

Besides such forms of “soft control,” China also practices notoriously rigid online censorship. Having developed one of the greatest firewalls in the world, the state actively monitors the internet roamed by more than 513 million netizens (CNNIC 2012). As a response to such a medium that is unprecedentedly accessible to ordinary citizens in China, common practices of the government in regulating the internet include blocking websites that potentially threaten the state authority and censoring politically or culturally sensitive vocabularies through replacing banned words or phrases with generic symbols, oftentimes directly deleting provocative posts or articles altogether.

It is in such contexts of internet use that researchers need to especially expand how the democratic potential of the new media is explored. Although scholars have recognized that Habermas’s vision represents more of an ideal than reality, most of them still willingly fall for the normative agenda. In the efforts to measure quantitatively the degree of “rationality” (i.e., through the frequency of citing external information) or “equality” (i.e., through calculating the concentration and frequency of expressions by different participants) or whichever aspect derived from traditional notions of citizenship, researchers on both sides of the evaluation are looking at the phenomenon in an almost reductionistic manner, that some equally meaningful insights are missed in the process. In primarily privileging quantifiable findings, the majority of research misses the lively dynamic of online exchanges. Unless a qualitatively rich perspective is added, research finding will continue to be inconclusive and ambiguous.

Further at stake in the study of the new media is the cultural role they play in how people are made into citizens and exercise citizenship in their everyday life. Primarily focusing on explicit political materials and discussions, academic works discussed so far tend to overlook, if not outright dismiss, online discussions about nonpolitical materials, such as entertainment television shows. Such a bias is not surprising if one considers the dominant definition of citizenship and political communication. However, Miller points out that “citizenship has always been cultural” (2007, 51) and that only an expanded and more imaginative definition of citizenship would help us see the full picture. Below, I discuss the “cultural citizenship” perspective at the intersection of television and new media that provides a revision of how the media’s democratic potential should be more comprehensively studied.

Cultural Citizenship at the Intersection of Television and New Media

In the past decade or so, there has been a burgeoning literature on the concept of “cultural citizenship.” Scholars have attempted at diverse definitions of the term based on different orientations (Coleman 2006, 2007; Cunningham 2001; Hermes 2001, 2005, 2006; Miller 1998, 2007; Stevenson 2003). Among them, the cultural revision proposed by Joke Hermes provides a most relevant direction to the thesis under discussion in this article. Hermes (2005) traces the cultural citizenship argument to the lineage of civic, political, and social rights in Marshall’s theorization of citizenship, as she points out that in the 1990s scholars started to talk about cultural rights as an important dimension of citizenship that was previously overlooked. However, rather than identity politics that fights for citizen rights and cultural recognition, which is an influential branch of cultural citizenship, Hermes focuses on the “less formal everyday practices of identity construction, representation, and ideology, and implicit moral obligations and rights” (2005, 4).

Hermes justifies this attention in highlighting the continued decline of public trust toward political institutions and agents, in contrast to broader representation of ordinary people and their life experiences in the modern television media. While ordinary citizens feel less motivated to articulate their political opinions or pursue their interests through formal political channels, Hermes emphasizes that emotions and life experiences are part and parcel of public communication. Fictional TV, though mostly associated with leisure and pleasure, provides an important channel through which audiences reflect on their life situations and enter public discourses about moral standards and political values. Hermes argues that audiences often actively seek realism in entertainment texts, even though they are aware of their fictionality. Because of their narrative quality, entertainment texts can nevertheless provide learning opportunities for their viewers about the society and alternative political forums for their discourses about more serious civic issues. We need to look at these processes seriously.

According to this cultural revision, instead of politics dictating how everyday conversations should happen, we can instead look at how indeed citizens use the intersubjective space created by both fictional and nonfictional media to reflect on critical issues of their civic life. For example, Hermes (2007) discusses a popular antiterrorist TV drama, 24, to illustrate this point. Although the storylines are largely fictional, she writes that the portrayal of the leading character, Jack Bauer, and his relationship with his daughter invites critical reflections on gender roles and parenting issues. Entertainment media, through its dramatic presentation of real-life situations, helps us see our differences from and connection with other members of the society. Does one read Jack Bauer’s masculinity as reinforcing traditional gender stereotypes? Or does his fathering ascribe new meanings to parenting that is traditionally associated with mothering? Reading into the same fictional texts reveals how social members relate to others through sharing the same values and produce distinctions and norms in making different interpretations.

On the surface, such reflections do not directly bear on formal politics. However, they could contribute to bonding among the citizens based on their common media experiences, hence the sense of a community. Furthermore, such broad cultural values as gender roles and parenting are deeply connected to stances on public policies and political values that define a political system. Both community building and such important discussions around civic values are fundamentally relevant for politics and citizenship. Arguing that people’s daily conversations have political relevance, which can very well be fostered by pleasure-oriented activities, the cultural citizenship perspective not only makes a fundamental leap from previous institutional views but also provides some fresh insights into political systems that heavily regulate and censor open political discussions.

In the case of China, scholars have observed an intensifying public outcry about the drastically enlarging social gap accompanying the country’s quick overall growth. A recent collection of reports suggest that there is an urgent crisis of social justice in today’s China (Wang and Yang 2011). On the one hand, ordinary Chinese tend to self-identify as belonging to a lower and less influential social class, suggesting a collective feeling of powerlessness; on the other hand, the researchers notice a prevalent group mentality of resentment toward the rich and powerful. They explain this sentiment as resulting from corrupt officials and conscienceless rich people who imperil ordinary citizens’ chance of social mobility through their abuse of power and greedy accumulation of social and economic capital. The grudge held by ordinary Chinese often permeates into diverse social discourses, including those about entertainment texts. Indeed, citizens in China are probably more driven to such alternative channels outside the formal political process as the latter is seriously regulated and largely closed off to ordinary people. While issues of social justice and fairness rise to the top of public agenda in China, the country’s formal political forums continue to maintain their notorious gate keeping by state elites, hence failing to provide a sufficient platform for civic discourses among ordinary citizens.

This limit with formal political forums connects to a serious concern with the potential of power disparity embedded in Habermas’s public sphere theory, even in more mature Western democracies. Scholars point out that usually people in a more advantaged social position are also privileged to better master the desired rhetorical style, such as rational-critical reasoning and the use of logic, prescribed by Habermas’s theoretical model about public discourses (Dahlberg 2007). The ability to use the desired rhetorical style, and hence the ability to be more influential in public discourses, becomes the direct result of heavily class-related resources. By only legitimizing one particular rhetorical style, Habermas’s theory of the public sphere risks excluding those who are less socially advantaged and therefore less capable of achieving the resources for constructing ideal speech.

In that sense, it is probably extra meaningful for ordinary citizens constrained in more tightly controlled political public spheres to have alternative channels for their common reflection and exchange about their civic life. That said, scholars within the cultural citizenship camp caution that with the rise of neoliberalism, the commercial nature of new citizen activities might end up diluting their public voice. Specifically, Toby Miller discusses neoliberalism as the urge in contemporary capital to commercialize all social domains and turn citizens into consumers of cultural products such as entertainment shows. In encouraging citizens to participate in self-governance through “intelligent consumption” (Miller 2007, 62), neoliberal consumerism distracts the audience away from inequalities in resource or information distribution in the modern world. Such a distraction directly hinders the citizen audience from effectively entering political forums to debate on public issues and policies. If discussions of entertainment texts never penetrate into real politics, then the beneficiary can only be the neoliberal state and the cultural industry, rather than the civil society.

Applying such a perspective to the most successful reality show in China in recent years, Super Girl, scholars argue that the producers essentially use the form of participatory democracy as a commodity to attract audience and exploit free labor offered by the contestants (Jian and Liu 2009). Mesmerized by the experience of a “Cinderella Myth,” audience investment in the show might stop them from launching their discourses and actions into the more serious public sphere, thus breaking the confines of formal political forums.

While such critiques introduce important insights into the examination of modern media and citizen practices, this is essentially an empirical question that can only be answered through organic and deep immersion in actual audience practices. In this sense, the new media provide a fertile environment for audience activities where we can continue the dialogue on cultural citizenship. I argue through my close, systematic examination of actual exchanges among the viewers that popular television texts and the cyberspace can effectively provide alternative opportunities for viewers’ exchange of more serious civic and political values.

In studying the democratic potential of the media in general and the new media in particular, most research has only been focusing on explicit political forums over those dedicated to the more leisure-oriented entertainment media. A more culturally comprehensive perspective such as cultural citizenship would consider all forms of civic discourses, organized around all kinds of texts. Still under heavy debate, even in developed Western democracies, is whether these discourses would spark any meaningful discussion of political relevance. While efforts have been made in developing the cultural citizenship thesis, empirical evidence is urgently needed for nonpolitical television texts and the new media. This article takes on such an empirical enterprise.

Research Question

This study looks at public discourses surrounding a popular talent show—Super Girl (SG henceforth)—in China. By far the country’s first and probably most popular contest-based reality show, SG granted the Chinese audiences the power they had never enjoyed in the media, not to mention in their larger public life—the right to vote. It is an all-girl singing contest heavily modeled from the global Idol series, which has been met with unprecedented enthusiasm among the national audience and fostered heated discussions on diverse topics.

The program went on air in 2004, became a national sensation soon after that, and retreated to a hiatus in 2007, around the same time when a series of strict regulations on talent show programming were announced by the state administration. Perhaps the biggest change from these reforms was that nationwide voting was no longer allowed, which was once deemed as SG’s most revolutionary element. For the first time in SG history, TV audience could only sit back and watch votes being cast by three groups of judges. ¹ Coming back in 2009 under the new name of Happy Girl (with its English title unchanged), one of the major highlights in watching the show was to see how it could “dance with shackles.” Trying to cope with the new meticulously thought out game rules by the state, talent show programming in 2009 in China entered a new low and faced its demise. As the show continued to struggle with its declining popularity, largely because of the lack of opportunities for audience participation, and ever-tightening rules laid out by the state regulators (Jacobs 2011), SG producers announced shortly after the 2011 season that the show will not come back.

Previous empirical study on newspaper discourses about SG demonstrates that cultural attention on this show also develops into public discussions about cultural policies, social issues, civic values, and moral standards (Wu 2011). This article goes beyond such traditional media platforms as mainstream newspapers, heavily occupied by state elites, and explores the notion of cultural citizenship at the intersection of television and new media. The internet offers a more organic setting for the Chinese citizens to exchange their television viewing experiences and potentially civic values based on those experiences. To see how SG fosters public discourses in the cyberspace, and whether cultural citizenship is nurtured during the process, the article addresses this central research question: Do people only focus on their entertainment experiences, such as contestant performance and results, in the online forums dedicated to Super Girl?

The cultural citizenship perspective suggests that popular media experiences are meaningful in terms of not just their entertainment value but also the alternative spaces they offer outside the restricted political public sphere. While the latter is not particularly tolerant of diverse and open civic voices in China, online spheres dedicated to “harmless” cultural experiences on the surface may open up alternative channels for people’s political communication.

Through answering the central question, this article expands the notion of what constitutes political talk online in current internet research and addresses the intersection of audience and citizen. If the discussions primarily focus on entertainment experiences, then they would be easily dismissed by the traditional theorists as meaningless and irrelevant. However, the cultural citizenship perspective would not even take that step all too soon, as these superficial discussions serve as a bonding foundation for the participants, who do not usually know each other offline, to feel more comfortable revealing one’s broader life perspectives and values (Baym 2000; Ross 2008). What concerns the cultural approach more are signs of people being inspired by the discussions surrounding their entertainment experiences to talk about civic issues and values. These embedded discussions, if found, can help demonstrate the significance of popular television and new media for ordinary citizens to understand what it means to be a citizen and practice their civic thinking and skills.

Data and Method

To answer the research question, I sampled online conversations from Hunan Satellite TV SG forum, as the official website of the TV network hosting the show. Although auditions started in May, national broadcasting only began in July 2009, per state regulations. The period between July and September is included in the sample, during which SG was cast in the national spotlight. To concentrate on threads that fostered participation among the discussants, only those that received more than five responses were considered for sampling. A random sampling was conducted each month to extract 5 percent of all threads. As a result, thirty-nine threads (545 posts in total) were collected for analysis.

A thematic analysis was then used to discover the themes being initiated and carried on throughout the discussions. Using grounded theory to read through the online discussions, I uncovered three recurring themes in 105 posts that connected people’s entertainment experiences to their discussions of broader civic values: political, social, and cultural concerns. ² I then conducted close textual analysis of the political discussions and developed a thick description of such discussions.

From “Who Is the Next Super Girl?” to the Expression of Political Values

When discussing Super Girl, critics and fans were concerned with who would be chosen as the next super girl, which on the surface has nothing to do with the formal political process. However, because of such inherently political factors as “judging,” “voting,” “representing,” “competing,” “decision-making,” etc. on the show, oftentimes these discussions moved beyond entertainment concerns to address voting in general and broader political values, which has the potential to bear on formal politics.

I observe that the primary focus in these political expressions tended to be on the foundational values involved in the political processes, such as fairness, procedural justice, and the voice of the masses, rather than the technical aspects of democracy. Such discussions about the basis of decision making are essentially political as they help define the character of a political system. Should decisions be based on merits judged against a universal standard, or should the unusual or nontraditional talents be given more opportunities? What is the role of the masses in the decision-making process? These discussions provide an interesting analogue for critical questions in Chinese politics and society. At a time when the Chinese invent such terms as “the rich second generation” and “the officials’ second generation” to explain the privileges enjoyed by young people born into rich and connected families and the controversies they stoke by getting away with public mayhems they caused (Chan 2011), I suggest that the heated debates over fairness reflect a widespread anxiety about social justice.

The controversial progress made by a few contestants in 2009 stirred up discussions in the online sphere about judging, where people made the distinction between good and bad judging. The most controversial contestant of all, Zeng Yike, mainly performed songs written by herself, sang out of tune quite often, and occasionally forgot her lyrics, yet claimed quite a big following and made it all the way to the national ten. The judges fought fiercely about her during the contests, some embracing her as the “eye of the next generation” while some refusing to give her points for her performances. Although online discussants made independent efforts to understand certain judges’ preferences, they agreed fairness to be the ultimate standard that one should strive for and be evaluated by. For many discussants, “fair,” as an important political value, means distinguishing personal taste from professional standards, and not to tarnish the competition with one’s selfish desires. Below is an excerpt of a long analysis that first tried to decipher why certain judges would so firmly support Zeng and then laid out its argument ³ :

Gao likes Zeng Yike, first and foremost for her creative talents. . . . He likes her for not being the ordinary kind. People working in the art field share this common failing: what is different from others is viewed as good. Artists like to venture in being creative, unique or unconventional. . . . Ultimately, it is a spiritual pursuit for them. However, they forget that this is all a real competition. . . . The responsibility of a judge is to select the most excellent one among all the contestants, not someone you like most.

I would like to tell you not to be too selfish here. Do not tarnish the purity and fairness of the contest with your own personal desires. If you like singers of this kind, you can use your own talent scouts to discover them. Do not turn the SG stage into a medium for fulfilling your selfish desires. To invite you as the judge, is to ask you to see who sings best among the “girl voices,” not who surprises you most, not who makes you emotional, not who reminds you of your childhood, or the fluttering song in the bathroom of your middle school. . . .

Someone like this can make it to the national 10. How are the eliminated contestants going to face their future career development? I can guarantee that they are very confused now. They must all be thinking, what is the right thing to do in such an environment? (Wenxingzhongxin 2009)

Instead of calling names or insulting the judges personally, this post spent quite some time to explain why certain judges would jump on Zeng as a rare talent. The author even compared Zeng’s style of music to that of the supportive judges and concluded that the “art people” have a “common failing.” Having seen numerous beautiful faces and well-staged performances, the judges might instead be particularly drawn to “untraditional” talents, those that might represent the voice of a new generation or connect with the audience on a more spiritual level. In that sense, it seemed totally appropriate for Zeng to enjoy a strong support among certain judges and audience members. However, the author defiantly pointed out the distinction between “talent searching” and “a real competition.” The true purpose for the latter is to give equal opportunities to all talents and select the best singer, not “someone special.” Whereas it might be admirable in other contexts for people with power to relate to the younger generation in their field on a personal front, it tarnished the fairness of a competition.

The definition given here of fairness is largely political. While today’s China is plagued by a widespread lack of confidence in social mobility and cynicism about the corrosive intimacy between the rich and the public officials, ordinary Chinese people yearn for a system in which everyone would be given a fair chance. One should not succeed simply because she or he is special or has a unique connection with those who decide on selection results, which creates much space for individual will and favoritism. In that sense, the post expressed the concern that it was not only unfair but also confusing for other contestants who were there to fight for an equal chance. This conceptualization does not just apply to the production of a reality show but largely reflects Chinese citizens’ broader expectations from competition in the society and political processes.

What made the debate complicated lay with the Chinese title of the show—“Happy Girl (Voice).” ⁴ “Happy” reflects the theme of the show, “Sing when you want to,” which has been lauded as its most democratic aspect. The show invited contestants from all walks of life, with or without professional training, to take the stage that they may never have a chance to reach through traditional channels. Such a gesture made the show extra appealing and relatable for the audience in that they were witnessing their ordinary peers compete for a spot on the national stage that is not normally available to them (Wu 2011). However, the aspect of “girl’s voice” dictates that this show is after all a singing contest, a competition among talents. This notion was well reflected in the post quoted earlier—to call it a competition, the players should abide by a common fair rule. However, in playing up the competition aspect of the show, was the author negating the other democratic aspect, that is, the untraditional opportunity for a singer to shine outside the traditionally rigid professional standards and hierarchies? Commenting on the theme of the show, this following post voiced an opposite opinion to the previous post:

As long as singing can bring you happiness and you want to share the happiness of singing, the show welcomes your participation.

Tianyu wants one star (or a bunch of them) and the promising market created by this star. To be more ambitious, they also want to contribute to the popular music in China or even lead its future trend. Imagine a good yet simple and unchangeable voice that is not special and easy to package. How could this voice satisfy the needs of Tianyu? ⁵ . . .

Based on the above analysis, it is not hard to understand that the SG judges are not the graders of a music exam. They are only a component of such an entertainment show. . . . No matter what, it is only an important frame of reference, not the authoritative standards, especially not the only standards, not to mention that something like music never clings to an authority or single standards, because this thing is essentially a sensual cognition. (TangguoaiCandy 2009)

In contrasting SG to such traditional youth singing contests as the most authoritative one hosted by China Central Television, the above post celebrated the liberating spirit embodied by SG. Here the author interpreted “fairness” as shedding claims of authority and allowing diverse voices in. The most important part was to give the ordinary masses a chance to shine and to not judge them against a single standard. What would naturally create much space for contention is that music is (processed by) “sensual cognition,” which is not particularly amenable to rational and objective analysis. The show is democratic in just that sense, by allowing all kinds of performance styles on the stage that is traditionally denied to them and offering everyone a fair chance to win.

Whereas the first post represented a conventional idea about “fairness” in that the judges should rise above personal feelings and choose the most technically perfect candidate; the notion of “fairness” embraced by the second post made equal sense for many people, in that authority and tradition should give way to diverse forms of expression. However contradicting the posts may be, “everyone deserves a fair chance” was the fundamental value both opinions claimed. Furthermore, they showed that the Chinese viewers were seeking a more just system that would give ordinary people more opportunities to succeed. Facing the unequal distribution of such opportunities to success, some people invested their hope in unusual talents that break the bounds of a universal standard.

As hard as it was to choose between the two competing notions of “fairness,” it also proved difficult for any judge to avoid critiques based on the different expectations. While Gao Xiaosong was an easy target for his most vocal support for Zeng Yike, his polemical opponent, Bao Xiaobo, was also criticized for giving personal comments that lacked substance for the professional improvement of the contestants. His dramatic exit during the live broadcast of one contest in protest to the alleged protection certain judges cast over Zeng Yike caused widely different reactions. Some audience members hailed him as the brave fighter for justice, whereas others criticized him for being too irrational and confrontational. Amid the heated discussions about judging, viewers often treated the contestants as innocent tools for the “political game among the judges” (Xingmulalala 2009). Here, an interesting analogy to politics was drawn. Implying that politics is just a popularity contest, online discussants mourned the fact that the contestants’ professional career was being jeopardized by the meaningless competition among the judges about who was right and who had more taste. Accusing the judges of trying to steal the thunder from the contestants, some people viewed it as an irony that certain judges re-boosted their careers through appearing on the show.

The competition among the judges further roused direct political comparisons in the online community. For some audience members, the way in which the judges behaved was not just a result of their individual music tastes and personalities, but it revealed a lot more about the (political) cultures they are from. Below is a quick discussion about the tension between Gao (from mainland China) and Bao (from Taiwan), which went beyond differences between the two as individuals:

This is the distinction between a musician from Taiwan and one from mainland. I do not talk about politics, just tell the truth. People from mainland do their business based on who they are dealing with, while in a place with sufficient freedom of speech, people do business based on the business itself. (Afei 2009)

Harmonious society! (Yuanfenyutiankong 2009)

Although Afei claimed to refrain from political discussion, she or he inevitably raised the political ideal of “freedom of speech” as the fundamental source of divergent cultures between mainland China and Taiwan. Afei believed that in a social environment where people have sufficient freedom to express their opinions, they will not base their behaviors as much on who they are dealing with as on the nature of the business. As a result, Afei celebrated Bao as a model judge who gave no special treatment to any particular contestant, but measured them against a single fair standard, while disdaining judges like Gao for varying their opinions about the contestants’ performances based on who they were judging. Implied in this argument is the bold claim that Taiwan has a more open opinion environment than Mainland China.

What is especially interesting about this brief discussion is the response elicited by Afei. Brief as it was, Yuanfenyutiankong cited the Communist Party’s new governing motto. In the 2000s, facing impressive economic development and growing demand for more civic rights by the citizens, the ruling Party announced a new philosophy dictating that all changes should serve to maintain a harmonious society and submit to its overall stability. The Chinese citizens read it as yet another strategy by the state to suppress political demands, especially that for a truly democratic system. Freedom of speech is one such demand, for which ordinary citizens have been fighting a long battle. The way Yuanfenyutiankong responded to Afei shows how people are used to naturally attributing the political stagnancy in China to the Party’s authoritarian ruling principles, under the name that they are good for the general society. The following post expressed a similar frustration:

In fact, how many judges can put down their personal desires, just like Bao, to maintain the fairness of the contest and the justice of the industry? Admittedly, musicians in Mainland China in this respect are really not as dedicated to their profession as those from Taiwan. Music industry looks severely commercialized on the surface there, but at least the music business has its own norms and standards. Not everyone can break them. But in Mainland, there is no such conceptual system at all. Everything is boundless. So what kind of musician have we made? . . .

In the final analysis, the system and rules in Mainland China are so unscientific that we cannot be just and fair. The decision-makers hold too strong personal desires and blind decisiveness. Therefore, we could highly likely miss those really valuable and excellent talents and save the “things” maybe they just find to be interesting. (Wenxingzhongxin 2009)

Although the beginning of this analysis stayed closely on the topic of the music industry, it then made an interesting analogy between this field and the sport of soccer. According to Wenxingzhongxin, both fields in Mainland China suffer from the lack of a “scientific system.” Music industry is so “boundless” that Mainland China cannot compete with Taiwan in producing successful quality singers. Similarly, because of the lack of “norms and standards,” Chinese soccer is constantly plagued by failures and scandals. In the end, Wenxingzhongxin reached a critical evaluation of the overall Chinese society, where the systems are supposed to maintain fair competition but in cruel reality have missed valuable talents because many systems are corrupted by personal desires and maneuvers. Although Wenxingzhongxin remained vague about what systems she or he was talking about and how to improve them, this analysis is remarkably political in expressing the demand for more scientific systems to guarantee social justice and fairness, which is at the core of building a democracy.

Here again, we observe the expression of critical political commentaries and yearnings that went beyond entertainment experiences. Online discussants used popular media texts to reflect on aspects of their political life, which extended serious political discussion forums. In this sense, we need to take the cultural conceptualization of citizenship seriously in recognizing the critical agency of popular audiences and the political relevance of their discourses that are not necessarily political in intention.

If the ongoing debate about expert judging on the show suggested people’s deep suspicion about the authorities, manifested in their discussions on the other hand was a kind of romanticizing of the audience jury, the belief in the masses. Although the expert judges might be unfair for all kinds of reasons, online discussants seemed to believe that the jury, as a stand-in for the national audience, would help correct such wrongdoings by voting for the more liked contestant among the “real audience.” The audience celebrated moments in which the jury voted against the opinion of the expert judges, hence saving the more promising contestants in their eyes, and instances in which the professional judges voted in accordance with fans’ endorsements. Such cases were taken up as evidence for the power of the masses, when the fans spoke out for their favorite contestants and successfully channeled their voices to their representatives, who then fulfilled their rights and obligations by voting according to the public opinion, not elite views. Furthermore, online discussants also celebrated their power to shape and prove the long-term career prospect of certain contestants.

In celebrating the jury votes, this next post expressed no surprise when Huang Ying, a very popular contestant on the show, lost it to Zeng Yike after the expert judges voted on their performances during a one-on-one “PlayerKill contest,”⁷ but composed an almost poetic celebration when Huang Ying won the next round of “PK contest” as a result of jury voting:

But when she was “PKing” with Li Yuanxi, the jury votes leaning towards one side . . . (were) obviously a slap in the face of those who sit up high with no vision. Resistance to the suppression of Huang Ying has finally started. The result of the second-round voting—45 votes from the jury and 34 from the professional judges (thanks to the day-and-night efforts by all fans of Huang, the record companies are recognizing her market value), a high score of 88 points—does not really match Huang Ying’s real talents (the fans should stay cool), but fully proves an unchangeable truth in China—“He rules the world who has the hearts of the populace.” Huang Ying’s victory yesterday resulted from the will of the people and was the true victory of fans, which is what we should be most proud of. And our most beloved Little Huang Ying is now the symbol of victory. This was such a perfect battle. What I want to say is, the voice of fans is the real great music. (Zenmekuaile 2009)

That the jury favored Huang Ying more than the expert judges did, which saved her on the show, suggested two things: First, Huang was the more popular contestant among “the people.” She had the “hearts of the populace.” Second, the fans, representing “the will of the people,” were able to correct unfair protectionism for certain contestants. Winning 45 votes out of 50 from the jury was not just the victory of Huang as a contestant, but given that both the jury and the professional judges were expected to observe which contestants were liked by the common people and try to represent public opinions, it was ultimately the victory of the fans, who helped spread the words and promote Huang’s popularity. In using such grand terms as “resistance,” “victory,” “hearts of the populace,” and “will of the people,” Zenmekuaile brought the result of the contest to a much higher level and embodied a romantic celebration of the jury representing the masses.

Such kind of discussions again brought out the foundational political values among the discussants. According to them, the jury could help correct wrongdoings on the show, although it is less than ideal to only have audience representatives than allow nationwide voting. The jury represented the strength of the grassroots, as they were able to relate to the underprivileged contestants and speak for them. Below, a post celebrated the fairytale success of Huang Ying (growing up in a foster family from the rural area of China, she won over a lot of audience members with her unusual voice) and the sense of hope and accomplishment people achieved through supporting her:

Huang Ying is from the mountains. Her inspirational story motivates more than eight-hundred million children of peasants to fight for their future. She herself is an immigrant worker. The change of her fate shows the immigrant workers on the assembly line the hope of life. She is a folk artist from the grassroots. Her success opens the door of liberation for more people who want to realize their dreams. . . . The significance of Huang is no longer the success or failure of her alone. Normal citizens like the author have cast their desires to change their life on her. (Ninglaotou 2009)

Repeatedly invoking “change of life,” Ninglaotou expressed the inspirational strength one gained through supporting this contestant, who lived a hard life before coming on the show. For the ordinary audience, which contestant the jury chose on their behalf did not matter as much as the fact that a talent “from the grassroots” was able to rise so long as she fought for it. This gave hope to the vast masses who share the same social background. Highlighting Huang’s experience as an immigrant worker from the rural area of China, Ninglaotou stressed the vitality within the masses. Not only are ordinary people capable of creating a better life for themselves but they can also unite to help each other in fulfilling their dreams. In that sense, Huang Ying was not fighting alone. The viewing audience cast their “hope of life” on her and in supporting her, gained strength for their own “liberation.”

Such a celebration, filled with emotions and everyday people’s life experiences, resonates with the claim in cultural citizenship that not merely are viewers entertained through their engagement in popular texts but such visceral experiences also provide materials for reflection on the viewer’s civic life. Although a strictly institutional perspective of citizenship may assert that such energy can be well spent in making some “real change,” it is worthwhile for ordinary citizens to revisit the democratic values that uphold a political system, which enables the transition from individual consumers to reflexive citizens.

Discussion

The online discussions about Super Girl drew more on the foundational values of the political processes, rather than the technical aspects, probably due to a realistic reading of the strict state regulations. In a country with a highly controlled political public sphere, it is significant to observe that online discussants invested in a talent show tried to spell out the meaning of fairness, a core value of democracy, and showed a romantic investment in the jury as representatives of the masses. The analysis confirmed a central argument of cultural citizenship that people do not just enter public discourses to solve immediate, grand social issues but to also search for the core values that define the political system. The discourses may as well, if not more enthusiastically, be inspired by pleasure-oriented experiences. In these discussions, we see competing definitions of fairness. For some people, it entails sticking to universal standards of skills with minimum reference to personal feelings; for others, fairness means giving a chance to special talents.

These are highly important conversations given that ordinary Chinese citizens are experiencing less social mobility, either because of the lack of a “scientific system” that exercises universal standards of competition or because certain untraditional talents are short of a chance to shine outside the established systems. Overall, such discussions are not playful and only limited to the selection of entertainers on a talent show. Stripped of specific details about developments on the show, one finds an earnest search for what fairness means in today’s China. It reflects growing tensions over an ever-enlarging gap in wealth and power. Such a connection is particularly significant in the context of China, where the intensifying need to make sense of and define core political values is not met in its political public sphere.

In reviewing representative literature on media and democracy, this article points out the overly instrumental orientation adopted by some scholars and argues that the perspective strictly following traditional conceptualization of citizenship is not sufficient in exploring ordinary citizens’ everyday political communication. Building off of the cultural citizenship literature, this work demonstrates that participation in public discourses may oftentimes be fostered through nonpolitical media materials. As such discourses have been traditionally ignored for not exhibiting the kind of serious and rational rhetorical styles prescribed by the political citizenship perspectives, this study shows that there is indeed a connection between sharing such nonpolitical entertainment experiences and the expression of people’s core civic values and exchange of opinions on other grand social issues.

However, against the popularity of neoliberal ideology and consumerist mentality across the globe, it is worth exploring how such energy can be channeled into formal politics or making some real change in civic life. In that sense, Stevenson proposes that “accepting the legitimacy and complexity of popular pleasures while protesting against material and cultural exclusion seems like a line worth holding” (Stevenson 2003, 135). In other words, while we should give more recognition to the cultural revision on how to investigate the media’s democratic potential, we should also not rush to a celebration of audience agency and the power of entertainment shows in carrying critical political debates that are less developed in the political public sphere.

This article introduces a cultural perspective into the study of new media’s democratic potential. Its purpose is to show that politically relevant discussions do not just stem from serious political texts or unfold in the political online venues, and one should not just measure civic discourses against a normative standard in judging their value. To achieve a fuller understanding of ordinary citizens’ everyday political communication in the civil society, scholars have to recognize the cultural nature of that process and adopt a more nuanced perspective in observing how it is achieved through the discussion of diverse media materials.

Taking one step further from previous research that looked at mainstream discourses collected on newspapers, this article also demonstrated special contributions of the new media in allowing more critical and in-depth civic exchanges to ordinary citizens who do not have regular access to the mainstream media, especially in countries like China and for expressions of political values. Scholars should take further advantage of this organic environment which invites daily ramblings and critical musings on the ordinary citizens’ civic life. Future research should further address the potentials and limits of having political debate deferred to entertainment shows, in looking at whether and how such discourses on the internet as an alternative public sphere get channeled into the official public sphere, what are some of the major differences between the two public spheres in terms of narrative structures, rhetorical styles, and so on as revealing of what is special about the internet that sets it apart from the mainstream public sphere.