China began enforcing sweeping regulations Saturday that require social media influencers to hold verified professional qualifications before discussing medicine, law, education or finance online, a move authorities say will combat misinformation but critics warn could significantly restrict freedom of expression.
The Cyberspace Administration of China (CAC), the country’s primary internet regulator, implemented the new rules on October 25 after announcing them earlier this year. Content creators now have a two-month window to submit degrees, certifications or professional licenses proving their expertise in regulated subjects, or risk having their accounts flagged and content removed.
Major platforms including Douyin, China’s version of TikTok, along with Bilibili and Weibo, must verify influencer credentials and ensure posts include proper citations, disclaimers and transparency about information sources. The platforms themselves face penalties or heightened regulatory scrutiny if they fail to enforce these requirements adequately.
The law doesn’t stop with individual creators. Platforms must now educate users about their responsibilities when sharing content, and the CAC has banned all advertising for medical services, supplements and health foods to prevent covert promotions disguised as educational material.
Digital policy observers describe the legislation as one of Beijing’s most comprehensive attempts to formalize influencer activity, and it may serve as a template for future online content governance. The CAC stated its goal isn’t limiting creativity but ensuring professional knowledge comes from qualified individuals who can provide reliable guidance in areas with significant social impact.
That framing hasn’t satisfied critics who see something more troubling beneath the surface. Human rights advocates have raised concerns about vague enforcement criteria and the potential for arbitrary application, noting the requirement may disproportionately affect grassroots creators and those without formal education despite their lived experience or practical expertise.
The timing matters. This move is part of a broader campaign by Chinese authorities to rein in what they view as excessive or harmful online behavior, following recent regulations targeting everything from online gaming to celebrity fan culture. Children under sixteen are now banned from watching livestreams after 10 p.m., and platforms have been ordered to block virtual currency gifts to influencers from underage viewers.
The stakes are substantial given China’s influencer economy is estimated to reach 6.7 trillion yuan in 2025, making it one of the largest in the world. Livestreaming and influencer marketing have transformed ordinary creators into national celebrities capable of selling out products within minutes and shaping public opinion on a massive scale.
Platforms like Douyin must now confirm that an influencer giving health advice truly has medical training, while Weibo must ensure financial commentators are qualified to discuss markets. It represents a monumental administrative burden for companies that built their fortunes on volume and rapid content creation.
The regulations raise uncomfortable questions about who gets to define expertise. Does a nurse with ten years of practical experience but no medical degree qualify to share health tips? Can a self-taught investor who’s successfully managed portfolios for decades discuss financial strategies? The law’s supporters argue formal credentials provide a baseline guarantee of competence, while opponents contend it could exclude valuable perspectives from people with real-world knowledge that doesn’t come with institutional validation.
Many observers worry expertise will be defined too narrowly, giving authorities more power to silence people who question official narratives or offer alternative views. The new rules explicitly prohibit any content that challenges the authority of the Communist Party or the socialist system, suggesting the law serves multiple purposes beyond simply fighting misinformation.
Critics warn of a chilling effect where creators, knowing they’re being watched not only for accuracy but also for ideological alignment, will self-censor as a survival strategy. The result could be an internet where difficult questions go unasked and creative spontaneity gives way to cautious compliance.
Yet the concern driving these regulations isn’t uniquely Chinese. During the COVID-19 pandemic, fake cures and anti-vaccine rhetoric spread rapidly worldwide, often fueled by unqualified influencers. Poorly researched financial advice has wiped out savings for countless people, while viral health hacks have caused genuine harm. The stakes genuinely are high when influencers with millions of followers share information about topics that directly impact people’s health, wealth and legal standing.
While China’s approach is among the most stringent, other countries are also implementing influencer regulations. Spain introduced its own Influencer Law in 2024, requiring high-profile creators earning more than €300,000 annually or with more than 1 million followers to register and adhere to strict advertising guidelines. Platforms like YouTube and Instagram have implemented policies to label paid promotions and combat misinformation, though enforcement remains inconsistent.
A UNESCO study highlights significant knowledge gaps in the industry, with about 59 percent of surveyed creators reporting they’re either unfamiliar with or have only heard of regulatory frameworks for digital communications, while 27 percent are unaware of content creator regulations in their own countries.
Regarding sponsored content disclosure, 52.6 percent of surveyed creators engage in brand partnerships, with 58.9 percent using disclaimer labels for sponsored content, 46.8 percent directly disclosing sponsorships, and approximately 7.2 percent presenting sponsored content without any disclosure. These numbers suggest the broader influencer ecosystem operates with limited understanding of existing rules and inconsistent adherence to transparency standards.
The People’s Daily, the Chinese Communist Party’s official newspaper, stated that platforms could no longer let pessimism proliferate unchecked, declaring the bugle has been sounded and all parties should act accordingly. That language reveals concerns among China’s leadership about the spread of malaise as the country grapples with economic uncertainty.
The cultural context matters here. Influencer culture has fundamentally changed how people consume information, with creators valued for being relatable and authentic in ways traditional experts often aren’t. They connect with audiences through personality and storytelling rather than institutional authority. A regulation requiring formal credentials inevitably shifts power back toward establishment voices and away from the democratizing aspects of social media that allowed ordinary people to build audiences based on perceived authenticity.
As these rules take effect, influencers who previously discussed finance, legal advice or health tips are scrambling to adapt their content strategies. Some are seeking formal accreditation, others are partnering with certified experts to maintain compliance, while many are shifting focus to less regulated topics entirely. Platforms are updating moderation systems and user guidelines to align with the new standards, creating what amounts to a significant restructuring of China’s digital landscape.
Whether this model spreads to other countries depends partly on how effectively it curbs misinformation without stifling legitimate discourse. Democratic nations face constitutional constraints that authoritarian systems don’t, making direct replication unlikely. But the underlying tension between fighting dangerous misinformation and protecting freedom of expression exists everywhere, and governments worldwide are grappling with how to strike that balance.
For now, China has placed its bet on credentialism, deciding that formal qualifications matter more than audience size when it comes to discussing topics that carry real-world consequences. The experiment will test whether expertise can truly be gatekept in the digital age, and whether the cure for bad information is necessarily more control over who gets to speak.
