This is an important question. Thank you for raising it, and highlighting some interesting considerations in your original post!
Rather than attempt to answer comprehensively, I want to highlight a particular aspect that I've been thinking about recently: risks from ideological fanaticism. My colleague David Althaus is leading on an extensive post/report on this topic which we hope to post soon, but to summarise a few of the risks we're worried about (which are not solely reducible to authoritarianism):
- Fanatical ideologies increase the risk of (great power) wars and conflict.
- Fanatical ideologies are highly punitive and retributivist.
- Ideological fanatics threaten the long reflection: They seek to lock in their values and fundamentally oppose moral reflection.
If you bear with me and take it as a given that fanaticism poses serious long-term risks (x-risks and s-risks), there's a question of to what extent the Chinese regime is worse than the US or other countries.
I fed ChatGPT's deep research our draft definition of ideological fanaticism and asked it for "a report that investigates the extent to which China's regime today (e.g. the CCP, Xi Jinping) is ideologically fanatical, according to our definition."
The full response is here, but I will copy the "conclusion" and "Comparative Perspectives... United States under Trump (2017–2021): Polarized but Not Fanatical" sections below. (Sources omitted because they don't copy over well.) I'd be very interested in responses/critiques etc!
I think that considering this aspect should shift us towards increased confidence "that it's preferable for America to develop AGI before China does".
As for my own confidence... I dunno, like 65% confident? (I can imagine drastically shifting this if I thought more systematically about the framing of the question, listed more crucial considerations out etc.)
Conclusion
Is Xi’s CCP a genuinely fanatical regime or a pragmatic autocracy cloaked in ideology? The analysis suggests it is a blend of both, with an increasing tilt toward genuine fanaticism in recent years. Xi Jinping has re-ideologized China’s politics to an extent not seen since Mao – reintroducing dogma, purging dissent, and encouraging a quasi-religious loyalty to Party and leader. The CCP under Xi demonstrates all four hallmarks of ideological fanaticism: it asserts near-infallible truths (Marxist-Leninist, nationalist doctrine) and suppresses contrary voices (epistemic dogmatism); it frames its mission (national rejuvenation under one-party socialism) as an absolute moral imperative, castigating liberal values as “evil” Western assaults (moral absolutism); it fosters intense loyalty through nationalism and party indoctrination, making support for Xi and CCP a core identity of being Chinese (tribalistic loyalty); and it mercilessly targets those it labels enemies – from Uyghur Muslims and Hong Kong democrats to online critics – with hate-inciting propaganda and draconian punishment (out-group punitiveness). These aspects are not just for show: they have been implemented in concrete policies and campaigns that have profoundly altered Chinese society and governance in the past decade.
However, it would be an oversimplification to label Xi’s China as purely fanatical and irrational. The CCP’s ideological moves are often calculated to serve its survivability. The leadership is keenly aware of historical and global trends and adapts tactics when necessary (e.g., fine-tuning censorship technology, leveraging nationalism only when useful but reining it in when it might spur uncontrollable public anger, etc.). Unlike a revolutionary movement driven by dogma at all costs, the CCP is fundamentally a ruling establishment that enjoys power and wants to keep it. If rigid ideology seriously imperiled economic development or provoked widespread unrest, the Party has shown capacity to adjust course (for instance, post-Mao in 1978, the Party pivoted dramatically from fanatical communism to pragmatic reform; even under Xi we saw a pragmatic retreat from zero-COVID policies when faced with economic damage and protests). So, ideology in Xi’s China, while fervently promoted, is also in service to the regime’s stability and ambitions. Officials and state intellectuals will tweak the ideological narrative (e.g., emphasizing certain Confucian elements or nationalist pride) when it suits practical needs. Xi’s China thus lacks the blind zeal of, say, the Khmer Rouge or ISIS – it is not pursuing an ideological end that would destroy its own power base. In fact, one could argue the CCP’s true “ideology” is simply authoritarianism for its own perpetuation, using whatever mix of Marxism and nationalism works. In that sense, the regime is adaptive: it clings fanatically to power, if not to every tenet of Marxism per se.
Nevertheless, the methods and mindset employed under Xi – the massive propaganda, the personality cult hints, the social credit monitoring, the intolerance of minor heterodox opinions – have a fanatical character and could deepen. There is a feedback loop: the more the regime insists on ideological conformity, the more it may start to believe its own propaganda, and the smaller the space for corrective feedback becomes. This can lead to policy blunders (as seen with the rigid insistence on zero-COVID until things reached a breaking point). It is worth noting that Xi has eliminated virtually all internal party opposition and surrounded himself with loyalists, which means policy is made in an echo chamber affirming Xi’s ideological instincts. This is a classic hallmark of regimes that have slid into true fanaticism – losing the capacity for self-critique. The trajectory of China’s CCP seems to be moving away from Deng-era pragmatism toward a more stifling, dogma-driven approach. Whether this will harden into a full-blown cult of personality and a completely inflexible system (like North Korea), or whether practical needs will impose moderation, remains an open question.
In conclusion, China under Xi Jinping can accurately be described as ideologically hardline and authoritarian, exhibiting many elements of fanaticism but stopping short of the most extreme fanatic regimes. It has a vigorous official ideology and enforces it coercively (far more than most regimes of its size and complexity), yet it also shows opportunism and careful management beneath the surface. The CCP is fanatical about maintaining its rule and the narrative that legitimizes that rule. Whether one views that as true belief or Machiavellian strategy, the effects on the ground are similar: a society that is more tightly controlled in thought and behavior than any time in recent memory. Compared to polarized democracies, Xi’s China is unmistakably unfree and ideologically repressive. Compared to Iran or North Korea, China’s fanaticism is somewhat more secular and techno‑bureaucratic in flavor, but it is trending in a similarly oppressive direction. For now, the CCP’s actions suggest it is doubling down on ideological governance, not loosening up. The risk is that this rigidity, if taken too far, could become a liability in a rapidly changing world – a fanaticism that undermines the very national strength it seeks to secure. The CCP’s challenge ahead will be whether it can sustain its tight ideological grip without stifling the creativity and openness needed for economic and social vitality. That balance (or imbalance) will determine if Xi’s China is remembered as a stable, adaptive authoritarianism or as a cautionary tale of ideological overreach.
To put China’s ideological rigor in context, we compare it with other regimes on the spectrum from non-fanatical democracies to the world’s most fanatical authoritarian states.
United States under Trump (2017–2021): Polarized but Not Fanatical
The United States during President Donald Trump’s tenure provides a useful democratic contrast. The Trump era saw unprecedented polarization and some populist, tribalistic rhetoric from the top, but the U.S. remained far from an ideologically fanatical regime. Unlike Xi, Trump did not command a single-party apparatus enforcing an official ideology nationwide – the U.S. continued to have a competitive two-party system, a boisterous free press, and institutional checks and balances that limited Trump’s power. Epistemic dogmatism: The Trump administration certainly had issues with truth (e.g. spreading the notion of “alternative facts” and conspiracy theories like election fraud in 2020), and Trump himself was often dismissive of expert knowledge. However, these tendencies did not translate into a monolithic control of information. Media opposing Trump (CNN, New York Times, etc.) operated freely and in fact grew in influence; social media was not censored by the government (Trump’s critiques of platforms aside). Many Americans disbelieved Trump’s false claims – in short, there was vigorous debate rather than enforced dogma. Moral absolutism: Trump’s political style was combative and he often painted opponents in stark terms (calling mainstream press “the enemy of the people,” for example, a phrase with totalitarian echoes). Yet in the broader system, there remained strong normative commitments to pluralism and the rule of law. Political opposition was not outlawed or inherently deemed treasonous; in fact, Trump faced pushback from courts, Congress (including impeachment proceedings), and state governments. The country did not embrace an absolutist moral narrative dictated by Trump – indeed, roughly half the country vehemently opposed him, and this was accepted as part of the democratic process. Tribalism and loyalty: There was certainly a cult of personality among segments of Trump’s base, with intense loyalty to him personally and a tendency to dismiss any criticism of him. The Republican Party largely rallied around Trump, showing high partisan loyalty. But this loyalty was voluntary and contested – several prominent Republicans and conservative media outlets did break with Trump on various issues (especially after the January 6, 2021 Capitol riot). Importantly, loyalty to the nation was not officially redefined as loyalty to Trump; civil servants, military officers, and others often acted independently. Out-group hostility: Trump’s rhetoric was notorious for targeting out-groups – e.g. harsh language about immigrants (Mexicans, Muslims) and political opponents (chanting “Lock her up!” about Hillary Clinton). His administration implemented hardline policies like the Muslim-country travel ban and family separations at the border, which reflected punitive attitudes toward those groups. However, these policies, while controversial and arguably cruel, were constrained by law and courts (parts of the travel ban were struck down, family separations were eventually halted under public pressure). There was no comprehensive state propaganda vilifying a group to the extent of, say, China’s portrayal of Uyghurs or Iran’s of dissidents. Dissent against Trump was robust – millions marched in protests (e.g. Women’s March, BLM protests) without being suppressed by a regime apparatus. The press openly criticized and satirized him daily. In sum, the U.S. under Trump saw heightened polarization and some authoritarian-style tendencies, but it did not approach the systematic ideological fanaticism of a one-party state. Freedom House continued to rate the U.S. as “Free,” albeit noting some democratic backsliding. The democracy index classed the U.S. as a “flawed democracy” (score ~7.9/10) – a far cry from authoritarian. Trump’s presidency did not eliminate institutional pluralism; elections led to his removal in 2020, and the transition of power continued (despite his attempts to overturn the results). This illustrates the difference: in a democracy, even a polarizing leader cannot enforce a singular ideology or eliminate opposition. The U.S. remained fundamentally adaptive and open, as evidenced by how rapidly policies and narratives shifted with a new administration in 2021.
This may not have been the original intention behind the claim, but in my view, the primary signal I get from the One Child Policy is that the Chinese government has the appetite to regulate what is generally seen as a deeply personal matter—one's choice to have children. Even if the policy only had minor adverse effects on China's population trajectory, I find it alarming that the government felt it had the moral and legal authority to restrict people's freedom in this particular respect. This mirrors my attitudes toward those who advocate for strict anti-abortion policies, and those who advocate for coercive eugenics.
In general, there seems to be a fairly consistent pattern where the Chinese government has less respect for personal freedoms than the United States government. While there are certainly exceptions to this rule, the pattern was recently observed quite clearly during the pandemic, where China imposed what was among the most severe peacetime restrictions on the movement of ordinary citizens that we have observed in recent world history. It is broadly accurate to say that China effectively imprisoned tens of million of its own people without due process. And of course, China is known for restricting free speech and digital privacy to an extent that would be almost inconceivable in the United States.
Personal freedom is just one measure of the quality of governance, but I think it's quite an important one. While I think the United States is worse than China along some other important axes—for example, I think China has proven to be more cooperative internationally and less of a warmonger in recent decades—I consider the relative lack of respect for personal freedoms in China to be one of the best arguments for preferring United States to "win" any relevant technological arms race. This is partly because I find the possibility of a future world-wide permanent totalitarian regime to be an important source of x-risk, and in my view, China currently seems more likely than the United States to enact such a state.
That said, I still favor a broadly more cooperative approach toward China, seeking win-win compromises rather than aggressively “racing” them through unethical or dangerous means. The United States has its own share of major flaws, and the world is not a zero-sum game: China’s loss is not our gain.