IShowSpeed, a 20-year-old American YouTuber and internet star, recently livestreamed hourslong tours of Chinese cities including Beijing and Shanghai, showcasing the locations to some of his nearly 40 million viewers.

During the March events, IShowSpeed, whose real name is Darren Jason Watkins Jr., marveled at friendly locals, spotless streets and the high-speed Wi-Fi available on the subway; Chinese fans mobbed him for selfies on the Great Wall.

Beijing’s state media lapped up the attention, with one Chinese blogger proclaiming that the American influencer had “eliminated all Western propaganda about China” in the eyes of a new generation.

IShowSpeed’s YouTube page attests to this assessment.

“China is so underrated wtf,” reads one top comment. “After watching this video, I realized how foolish my previous views on China were,” reads another.

The providence of such comments isn’t clear. Nonetheless, to someone who researches the use of Chinese soft power, I find the spectacle of a young American burnishing China’s image to Western audiences hugely significant. It provides an example of how soft power norms have been upended in recent years – and how China appears to be having some success in winning over the global youth.

Mixing pop and politics

Soft power refers to a country’s ability to influence others, not through coercion but through attraction – by shaping preferences through culture, values and public diplomacy. Coined by political scientist Joseph Nye, the term captures how nations project power by making others want what they have, rather than forcing outcomes through military or economic pressure.

Throughout the Cold War and into the 21st century, U.S. soft power didn’t have to try that hard. It came wrapped in denim, was broadcast on MTV and blasted from boom boxes. Rock music crossed the Iron Curtain when diplomacy couldn’t, with artists like Bruce Springsteen and Madonna reaching Soviet youth more effectively than any ambassador.

And in China, Michael Jackson became a pop icon well before McDonald’s or Hollywood blockbusters arrived, symbolizing a glamorous, open America that millions dreamed of. To many growing up in China in the 1990s, American culture wasn’t just entertainment – it was persuasion, aspiration, even subversion.

Beijing’s blockbusters

The U.S. is, of course, still a cultural powerhouse; American stars of film and music continue to be recognizable around the world.

But there are signs that China is chipping away at that dominance.

Take cinema. Not so long ago, Chinese films were considered niche abroad. Yet in January 2025, an animated Chinese feature film, “Ne Zha 2,” smashed box-office records. The movie, a dazzling retelling of a mythic boy-god, has grossed an astonishing US$2 billion worldwide, outperforming many Hollywood releases.

It’s now the highest-grossing animated movie of all time, and it wasn’t made by Disney or Pixar but by a Chinese studio employing hundreds of local animators.

Beijing lost no time in co-opting “Ne Zha 2” as a symbol of China’s creative rise and cultural “soft power moment.” State media touted the film’s success as proof that Chinese folklore and artistry can captivate the globe just as powerfully as Marvel superheroes.

“Ne Zha 2” isn’t a one-off. “Detective Chinatown 1900,” released in January by the Beijing-based Wanda Films, is 2025’s third-biggest grossing movie to date.

Hollywood, once confident in its cultural monopoly, suddenly faces a colossal new competitor on the global stage – one backed by 1.4 billion people and a government eager to topple Western pop-cultural dominance. And the audience isn’t all domestic. “Ne Zha 2” also proved successful when it opened in the U.S.

Gamers journey to the East

And it’s not just movies.

For decades, video games were an American and Japanese stronghold. Yet it is a Chinese-developed game, Black Myth: Wukong – developed by a studio in Hangzhou – that has become the talk of gamers worldwide.

When its gameplay trailers first appeared in 2020, they went viral, with Black Myth: Wukong promising AAA-level graphics and action rooted in China’s classic “Journey to the West” tale.

Skeptics wondered whether the final product could really compete with the likes of established franchise God of War or the George R. R. Martin-inspired Elden Ring. But those doubts evaporated when the game finally launched in 2024. Black Myth: Wukong debuted to massive global fanfare in summer 2024, instantly claiming a spot alongside the biggest Western franchises.

Reviewers around the globe have hailed it as China’s first true blockbuster video game and evidence that the country can produce world-class entertainment.

I’d argue that this isn’t just about bragging rights in China’s gaming community; it’s about narrative power for the Chinese state. When millions of young people around the world spend 30 or 40 hours a week immersed in the adventures of Sun Wukong, the Monkey King hero, rather than, say, a Marvel superhero or a Tolkien epic, that subtly shifts the cultural center of gravity eastward.

It suggests that Chinese myths are becoming as cool as Western ones to a global audience. And that is soft power.

Small screen, big impact

Meanwhile, on the smaller screens we carry in our pockets, another Chinese export has embedded itself deeply into global culture: TikTok.

As of 2025, TikTok boasts over 1.6 billion monthly users worldwide.

More striking is TikTok’s cultural reach. The app’s algorithm has propelled songs from musicians in South Korea or Nigeria to the top of global charts; it has teenagers in Kansas learning Indonesian dance moves, and grandmothers in Italy trying Mexican recipes they saw on a viral Chinese app.

In effect, TikTok has built a new transnational pop culture commons – one owned by a Beijing-based company. Yes, the content on TikTok is created by users everywhere, not dictated by the Chinese state, but the platform’s very existence is a triumph of Chinese tech entrepreneurship and global ambition.

Every minute that Western youths spend scrolling TikTok is a minute they’re within a Chinese-designed cultural sphere. Little wonder the U.S. government has fretted about TikTok’s influence – it’s not just about data security, it’s about cultural security.

Banning it outright has proven politically difficult, and so TikTok remains, steadily entrenching its position as a staple of global youth culture.

All these strands – blockbuster films, hit video games, viral apps – tie into a larger truth: China is rapidly building its soft power as America risks letting its own erode. At a time when the U.S. slashes foreign aid, China expands its influence through the Belt and Road Initiative and development loans. And while the U.S. curtails visas for students and scientists, China’s universities – some of which now rank in the global top 20 – become more attractive destinations.

Can the US maintain a cultural edge?

Assessing the impact of soft power is notoriously hard – nations that employ it are typically playing a very long game. And Beijing’s soft power push is not guaranteed success everywhere. Many societies remain skeptical of Beijing’s intentions, and China’s authoritarian system limits the appeal of its political model in democratic nations.

Yet there are clear signs that China’s cultural exports are gaining traction among the younger generation.

The U.S. once set the global cultural tempo almost by default. But today, as China invests heavily in its creative industries and digital platforms, it is increasingly shaping the soundtrack and storylines for a rising global generation.

The question is no longer whether China can compete for soft power influence but whether America has a plan to hold its ground.

Shaoyu Yuan does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.