Unequal Understanding: The Asymmetry at the Heart of U.S.–China Relations

Yung Wing - said to be the first Chinese to attend an American university (https://commons.wikimedia.org)

Sino-American competition is usually framed in terms of the balance of military, economic and technological power. But we less commonly think about the state of mutual knowledge. Just two weeks back, as part of an (mainly) American delegation to China I was struck, as often before, by the asymmetries that shape such interactions with Chinese counterparts. Despite the impressive calibre of my delegation colleagues our exchanges were most often conducted in English and many of our interlocutors were able to talk extensively about years of experience living and working in the United States. For decades, Chinese students in the U.S. have numbered in the hundreds of thousands, tenfold that of Americans in China. And while numbers on both sides fell sharply due to Covid, the American figures fell further and have barely recovered. This imbalance reflects a deeper societal asymmetry in language learning, cultural exposure, and mutual understanding. Furthermore, the continued scale of student engagement with the U.S. challenges claims that China has turned its back on the world.

The numbers are clear. In 2023–24, over 277,000 Chinese students were enrolled in U.S. higher education and fewer than 1,000 Americans studied in China. Furthermore, while figures for both were far higher pre-Covid, at more than 370,000 and roughly 20,000 respectively, the US decline was steeper and its recovery far weaker. Language learning is also hugely imbalanced: English is a compulsory subject in Chinese schools from an early age, while Mandarin is taught in only about 3% of U.S. public schools (ACTFL). So the striking asymmetry prior to 2020 is now even more extreme.

I would speculate that curriculum differences mirror this. Chinese students are routinely exposed to American history, politics, and culture—albeit through a state-framed lens. In the U.S., China is likely treated as a more peripheral topic. The result: a generation of Chinese youth with a working knowledge of American society, and a generation of Americans with only a vague understanding of China.

The sustained character of this engagement has given huge depth to Chinese elites’ familiarity with the U.S. (and the West more broadly). Senior figures like Liu He (former Vice Premier), Yang Jiechi (former Foreign Minister) and Zhou Xiaochuan (former Governor of the Central Bank) epitomise a generation of Chinese with rich cultural and linguistic skills gained overseas. This gives them a significant edge in understanding American political discourse, media narratives, and negotiation styles.

By contrast, even among American 'China hands’, language proficiency is uneven. On my recent delegation visit, it was striking how - even for a group of China experts - English remained the dominant language of communication. Furthermore, where it arguably counts most, in the US State Department, it is often the case that positions requiring certain levels of linguistic proficiency cannot be filled appropriately, according to a 2017 GAO report. Meanwhile, for lower level and younger Chinese officials and scholars English fluency is routine.

This epistemic asymmetry has real-world consequences for diplomacy and strategy. U.S. political figures often operate with limited insight into Chinese attitudes. It has been argued that U.S. policy towards Taiwan has become simplistic, disconnected from the emotional centrality of the island to Chinese nationalism and in conflict with a long-standing but not well-understood (in the US) modus vivendi.  Visits by high-profile figures may carry well in U.S. politics but it is not widely realised how provocative these are to China. There has also been wider criticism that little effort is made to understand how actors across the Asian region take different perspectives on Sino-US rivalry.

It can be argued that English’s global dominance gives the U.S. an advantage in international discourse. It could also be said that hard power matters more than cultural literacy. While some U.S. officials acknowledge that understanding how the other side thinks is useful, they do not necessarily regard it as essential for effective policy.

But such views underestimates the role of comprehension in diplomacy. The ability to interpret signals, anticipate reactions, and build trust depends on more than just power - it requires knowledge. One major example of the U.S. acting on its own assumptions rather than pursuing detailed understanding of China’s attitudes relates to the PRC’s WTO accession in 2001. The American consensus was that economic liberalisation fostered by participation in the WTO would lead to political pluralism. Rather than seriously probing how Chinese leaders really understood this process, the U.S. projected its own ideology onto Beijing. The result was complacent misreading of China’s trajectory.

Of course, China’s own grasp of the U.S. is far from perfect. Censorship, propaganda, and nationalism distorts understanding. Yet simple exposure through language, media and lived experience provides many Chinese with a working knowledge of America that few Americans reciprocate. This asymmetry does not guarantee strategic success. But the U.S.’s relative ignorance of China’s language, history, and worldview risks more miscalculation. Nor is this problem unique to America. The same epistemic asymmetry bedevils others like the U.K. and Australia where China literacy is also lacking.

If knowledge is a component of power then we might say that the U.S.’s problem with China begins at home, not in Beijing. While China’s material strength continues to grow, the U.S. (and others) must urgently invest in deeper societal engagement with what China is - not what they imagine it to be. Such engagement would not excuse Chinese conduct, but it could soften caricature, refine strategy, and make confrontation less likely. Sun Zi's Art of War is clichéd but seems appropriate here: ‘If you know your enemy and know yourself, then you need not fear one hundred battles.’