This is an important study of the Chinese ‘safety net’ social assistance scheme (known as dibao). Pan shows how dibao is implemented at local level through a network of local agents. She illustrates how dibao is prioritized for ex-prisoners and how, to a certain extent, this facilitates support (or supervision) of such ex-prisoners and arguably creates a dependent relationship which may discourage them from any “anti-social” behavior and, in particular, collective action. It is an important book not only for those interested in Chinese social policy and/or public security but for anybody interested in how the Chinese state works and how policies flow down to the lowest level of governance. However, insofar as the book goes further and suggests that the dibao scheme has been “reshaped” to turn “an effort to alleviate poverty into a tool of surveillance and repression,” it arguably goes beyond what the evidence shows.
The basic argument is that dibao is used (as one of many tools) to “repress” the “targeted population” (重点人口) which includes those suspected of endangering state security, ex-prisoners and drug users. Pan argues that dibao has been refocused to provide support to these groups though a process she describes as “seepage,” whereby one government priority alters the allocation of resources and goals of unrelated policy areas without changing the formal rules. She suggests that dibao facilitates interaction between the system and recipients thereby allowing for surveillance and creating dependency amongst recipients. The author refers to the use of dibao in this way as “repressive assistance,” that is, a system whereby material benefits raise a contender's cost of taking action.
Given the difficulty of obtaining in-depth information about social protection, Pan has commendably adopted a number of innovative methods to obtain an insight into dibao administration (chapters 4 and 5). Because of the difficulty in identifying (or asking about) the broader “targeted population,” she uses ex-prisoners as a proxy for the broader group. Pan does show—and this is important in itself—the extent to which the implementation of policy is modulated by different levels of government and also the extent to which local discretion applies. She convincingly shows that ex-prisoners and “re-educated” persons are likely to benefit from dibao and helps us to understand how the scheme works at local level.
However, the book arguably goes far beyond the evidence it presents in suggesting that the overall objectives of dibao have been “distorted” and in creating the impression that its main objective is not poverty alleviation but repression. It also overstates the extent to which China is unusual in that similar features are also to be found in other social assistance systems across the world. The evidence presented suggests that, even if one assumes that ex-prisoners are being supported because they are part of the targeted population, the proportion of dibao expenditure directed to that population is small. Insofar as the objective of policy is supposed to be stability, Pan acknowledges that most and perhaps all of the prisoners she encountered “had no intention of engaging in collective action” and “often lacked the resources to organize or carry out protests.” Even of those released from re-education, “most had been imprisoned for non-political activities” such as gambling or drug use.
Pan argues that those communities and cities in which higher levels of dibao are paid to ex-prisoners are more likely to have lower levels of satisfaction with government and more collective action which she identifies as a “backlash” against the policy. The causative relationship here seems unlikely. It seems more likely that the research is picking up a distinction between areas which are more or less “disturbed” in a general sense (including both higher crime rates—hence more focus on policy for ex-offenders—and more demonstrations) rather than a causative relationship between dibao policy and demonstration against this policy and/or a more negative perception of government.
Pan does note that it has been suggested that her understanding of “repressive assistance” applying to the targeted population is a misreading of what is, in fact, a policy of anti-recidivism. Her response is unconvincing. She argues that we should not describe this as anti-recidivism as this would require us to “subscribe to the Chinese regime's conceptualization of crime” and to buy into its “preemptive policing which places stringent limits of personal autonomy.” One does not, of course, have to accept the authorities’ views on social control or limits on personal freedom to say that the main objective of a policy is to avoid re-offending. While the author refers to the alleged policy of prioritizing the targeted population as “secret,” as she herself notes, many cities have actually published official policies about providing dibao to ex-prisoners.
Overall, the findings of this study suggest that the Chinese state has a policy of providing forms of support to ex-prisoners including dibao. Dibao may be used, again, as part of broader policy, to engage with (or surveil) these persons. There is little to suggest that the vast majority of such persons have any intention of engaging in broader activities which would be of concern to the state. Pan suggests that the authorities are prepared to accept a high level of “false negatives” in order to include those who they wish to control. However, the degree of overkill involved here suggests that there is, in fact, a much simpler rationale: the authorities are implementing a policy of support (and control) of released prisoners with a view to making them into “good citizens” and avoiding recidivism.
Despite my reservations about its broader claims, the study shows how innovative methods can be used to analyze what can be a very difficult system to access; and it will be of significant interest not only to students of the Chinese social protection system but also to students of the Chinese system of governance more generally.
