Selling anxiety is already outdated, promoting doomsday is the most profitable business
The pitch has changed
Huxiu reports that a new emotional commodity has overtaken “selling anxiety” online: outright doomsday narratives. Short, sensational claims about societal collapse, food shortages or imminent economic meltdown now drive traffic and sales more reliably than vague self-help fear. Why has fear become so marketable? Because apocalypse is simple, urgent and easy to convert into a product — a book, a paid livestream, a survival kit.
Platforms and the money machine
Short-video platforms such as Douyin (抖音), Kuaishou (快手) and live-commerce channels on Taobao Live (淘宝直播) are central to the trend. It has been reported that algorithmic feeds prefer extreme emotions, boosting creators whose content escalates worst-case scenarios; those creators monetize via affiliate sales, paid subscriptions and sponsored “prepping” goods. Big tech’s distribution tools make a niche subculture suddenly scalable, turning fringe survivalism into mainstream commerce almost overnight.
Why China now
This shift is happening against a specific Chinese backdrop: the pandemic, extreme weather events, and rising geopolitical tensions — including technology export controls and sanctions — have normalized contingency thinking. It is tempting to read the trend purely as click-chasing, but geopolitical uncertainty and supply-chain anxieties create fertile ground for doomsday narratives to feel credible, and therefore more profitable. At the same time, Chinese platforms operate under tight content rules; sensationalism can be lucrative until it crosses lines that trigger moderation or regulatory scrutiny.
Implications
The rise of “doomsday commerce” raises practical and ethical questions. Who pays when worst-case scenarios are marketed for profit — consumers, public attention, or social resilience? Regulators and platforms now face a trade-off between commercial incentives and the social harm of amplifying panic. It has been reported that some enforcement actions have followed viral false alarms in the past; whether policy will catch up with this newer, subtler economy of fear remains to be seen.
