Over the past few months, I have followed five or six Indian subreddits on the American version of a forum site (Reddit). The reason is simple: I have spent over a decade in the “China City” subforum on Baidu Tieba, following topics about national and urban competitiveness, and I wanted to continue that interest on the American forum. But dealing with Indian netizens did not go as I wished; I hit walls back and forth, and it took me several months of trial and error. During this time, I revisited the threads I had participated in, and the more I looked, the more I realized that India’s “win narrative” is far more complicated than the mockery online suggests.
I must mention here that the server I am using to write this article with code-server is hosted in Oracle’s data center in Hyderabad, India. While using India’s infrastructure to deconstruct India’s narrative, it feels like destiny in a way.
My months of hitting walls in Indian subreddits
Let me start with my experience on the American forum. During my time in Indian subreddits, my new account’s karma (similar to likes on various social platforms) remained in the single digits for the first month, with no improvement. In threads, whether I agreed or disagreed with Indians, I got downvoted. Some comments went negative, were collapsed by the system, and then deleted by moderators. The account was basically ruined.
“Karma” on the Internet
Later I realized that the word “karma” itself comes from Hinduism, meaning “deeds” or “cause and effect.” My collapsed comments on the American forum and the collapsed afterlife in Hinduism operate on the same mechanism: your past actions determine your current visibility. This coincidence made me start seriously thinking about how Indians perceive things.
Three stages of “karma” I earned
I went through three stages in the Indian subreddits, and the results were quite telling.
The first stage was going along with them. When I saw someone say that India’s railway electrification rate is second in the world, I chimed in with “Bravo India, India is the best, India will surpass China soon,” and so on. Logically, I was cheering them on, feeding their self-congratulatory mood, and should have received approval. Instead, I got downvoted heavily.
This confused me at first. For example, we often see comments under videos about China like “Amazing China! Love from Ethiopia,” and everyone gives them likes. Why, when I sang praises to Indians, did I get that treatment? Later I figured it out. Indian netizens don’t need me to hype them up; they have their own system of praise among themselves. If an outsider suddenly jumps in to say “Bravo India,” in their eyes it’s not goodwill—it’s performance, even condescending—a foreigner coming to amuse us. I crossed the boundary of authenticity. Praise must be sincere, and mine was strategic; they could probably tell.
The second stage: I changed tack. Since agreeing didn’t work, I tried to be objective and offer some substantive information. For instance, when Indians posted “India becomes the world’s second-largest freight carrier, surpassing the US and Russia,” I would question the data—pointing out that it only covers rail transport, excluding road, water, and air, and only counts total tonnage without turnover. But I got downvoted even harder. Later I gradually understood: in India’s order, pointing out flaws in one’s own group is an offense to the group, even if what you say is factual. In the caste logic, a Brahmin’s mistake is not for a Shudra to point out. As an outsider, I had neither the status nor the qualification to question their narrative. I crossed the boundary of discourse rights. This space does not welcome outside evaluation, whether praise or criticism.
After two failures, I started observing what kind of outside comments they actually accept. Later I asked Gemini for help, to see how to properly converse with Indians, and learned to reply with: “That’s an impressive Indian statistic.”
Unexpectedly, that single line got over 60 upvotes and finally pulled my karma up.
Looking closely at Gemini’s suggestion, the sentence carries three implications. First, it acknowledges that the data Indians posted is impressive, satisfying their desire for recognition. Second, it does not verify the story behind the data—doesn’t question the methodology—avoiding the minefield of skepticism. Third, it does not hype India for them—doesn’t claim they’re world No.1—avoiding the minefield of performative praise. The actual meaning is simply: I see your data, I acknowledge it’s impressive, and I say nothing about its underlying issues.
That was my first lesson in Indian subreddits on the American forum. This space does not reward reflection, only staying in one’s place. It accepts only one outsider posture: quietly admit they are great, and then shut up.
After these three stages, I roughly grasped the grammar of that space: it doesn’t reward praise, nor does it reward questioning—it only accepts acknowledgment without evaluation.
However, this conclusion only applies to those heavily patriotic subreddits. Later I visited some critical Indian subreddits and found that the Indian public sphere is far more complex than I thought. More on that later.
Hindu culture on the American internet
I was particularly sensitive to the word “karma” because it itself is meaningful. When Americans invented social platforms like Reddit, they chose “karma” to name the upvote/downvote system. And karma in Sanskrit originally means “deeds,” cause and effect.
Reddit’s karma mechanism works like this: if you say something that aligns with community consensus, you get upvoted, karma rises, and your comment moves up. If you say something against consensus, you get downvoted, karma goes negative, your comment is collapsed, or even deleted. This is exactly the same logic as Hindu karma. You fulfill your dharma, stay in your place, accumulate good karma, and have a better next life. You overstep, accumulate bad karma, and have a worse next life.
Actions, evaluations, rewards and punishments—both mechanisms maintain order. Reddit uses algorithms to maintain the order of community consensus; Hinduism uses karma to maintain the order of social hierarchy. My being downvoted in Indian subreddits essentially meant I had violated that community’s dharma. I said things not in line with the Indian subreddit consensus, so I was collapsed by karma.
This discovery led me to seriously study how this Indian order logic works. The first step was to break down the data that Indians constantly tout as “impressive.”
The “win narrative” of Indians choosing their own yardsticks
I spent a great deal of time arguing with Indians on the American forum about some data points. But the preliminary conclusion genuinely surprised me: many of the data they use are indeed real and verifiable. However, every data point holds true only under a specific statistical scope.
India’s railway electrification rate world No.1
First, railway electrification rate. The Indian government claims that the broad-gauge network electrification rate is 99.6%, making it world No.1 among countries with over 10,000 km of railway lines—or world No.2 if you insist on including small countries like Switzerland. This number itself is real; it was officially released by the Indian Ministry of Railways and widely reported by Western media.
Yet this number feels very contradictory. The impression of Indian trains on Chinese internet is basically “hanging passengers”—people sitting on top of train roofs and hanging off the sides, with dirty and chaotic carriages. How could there suddenly be such a strong indicator?
So I looked into it carefully.
Note that India is comparing the electrification rate of the railway network, not the total electrified mileage. India’s total railway network is about 68,000 km, while China’s exceeds 160,000 km. In absolute terms, Indian railways simply cannot compare to China. But in terms of electrification rate, China is only about 82%, while India is close to 100%.
Why is India’s electrification rate so high? Mainly because India’s railway network is small. With a small base, electrification progresses quickly. Modi himself said that Indian railways only electrified 30% in 90 years, but 70% in the last 10 years. This indicates that India’s high electrification rate is precisely because it started late, had a small base, and concentrated the work in the recent decade.
Using ratios to overshadow total volumes is the first step of the win narrative. The same rhetoric applies to market share, growth rates, and other indicators. A tiny base, as long as it grows fast, produces a beautiful ratio.
But no matter what, India’s 100% electrification rate cannot compensate for the value of a self-developed high-speed rail—and India’s high-speed rail is still nowhere in sight.
Of course, when I brought these points up to question Indians, I naturally earned a heap of “karma” (downvotes).
Delhi Metro punctuality rate world No.1
Second, the Delhi Metro punctuality rate. Indian media claims that the Delhi Metro has a punctuality rate of 99.95%, with the standard being a train arriving within 60 seconds of its scheduled time—stricter than New York’s 5 minutes and Singapore’s 2 minutes—thus world No.1.
This is another counterintuitive number. Having frequented the China City subforum for years, I always knew Chinese metros to be far superior to foreign ones, and Indians were stereotyped as “not punctual.” So where does this world No.1 punctuality for Delhi Metro come from?
Although this number is also reported by reputable media and sourced from the International Metro Association (CoMET), which presumably leaves little room for fabrication, I still broke it down.
First, the Delhi Metro opened in 2002, is fully enclosed, has dedicated right-of-way, and spans over 300 kilometers—it’s a brand new system. High punctuality in a new system is determined by hardware, not operational miracles. Comparing a new metro that opened in 2002 with century-old systems in New York and London is like switching playing fields.
Second, the 99.95% figure measures arrival time at stations, not headways (intervals between trains). Lines with longer headways naturally have an easier time being punctual, since a one-minute delay can be absorbed by scheduling. Moreover, the Tokyo Shinkansen also uses a 60-second standard and consistently achieves over 99% punctuality, despite being a system built in 1964.
Third, and most importantly, punctuality has long lost its discriminative power among modern metros. Fully enclosed, signal-controlled metro systems generally achieve above 99%. An indicator that has lost its distinguishing value is the easiest to use as “world No.1” material. Delhi uses it, and others do too. For instance, according to CoMET data, top-tier metros like Guangzhou, Hong Kong, Taipei, Shanghai, Shenzhen, Delhi, and Singapore consistently maintain punctuality rates between 99.9% and 99.98% over the long term, with differences only from occasional accidents like typhoons, heavy rain, or earthquakes. It is not impossible for Delhi Metro to top the list in a given year.
Interestingly, in those electrification discussion threads, Indians themselves were arguing. Some complained that India’s express trains often run late because they have to yield to local trains, and once local trains stop and delay, the expresses cannot run fast either. Others questioned why Hong Kong Metro was excluded from such rankings—Hong Kong’s punctuality is 99.9%, but its statistics only retain one decimal place, with much shorter headways and higher reliability. Still others shared personal experiences, saying they traveled from Chennai to Delhi a few times and the trains were always on time or even early. These voices show that not all Indians are just chanting “No.1”; some understand statistical methodology, and some complain about their own railways. Official propaganda and grassroots experience are two different things in India as well.
India’s freight world No.2
This is a typical “clickbait” title. When I saw the post title “India becomes world’s second-largest freight carrier, surpassing US and Russia,” I was baffled. Clicking in, I found it was about railway freight only.
The Indian government claims that in fiscal year 2025-26, railway freight loading reached 1,670 megatons, surpassing the US and Russia to become the world’s second-largest railway freight country. This number is indeed true: China’s national railway freight volume in 2025 was 4.066 billion tons (No.1), India’s 1.67 billion tons (No.2 by tonnage).
But there are two pitfalls here.
First, the comparison is based on loading tonnage, not freight turnover (ton-kilometers). It does not distinguish between short-haul and long-haul transportation. Although US rail freight by tonnage is lower than India’s, US hauls are much longer. In ton-kilometers, the US likely still leads India. Tonnage and ton-kilometers are two different metrics; India chose the one favorable to itself.
Second, India’s railway freight is heavily dependent on coal—about 70% is coal transport. Even India’s parliamentary panel has publicly warned that the railway must reduce coal dependence and diversify cargo types, otherwise growth is unsustainable. Using a single-commodity dependent number to claim “world No.2” devalues that ranking.
India’s electric vehicle efficiency world No.1
Another post title that shattered my worldview. China’s lead in electric vehicles is undeniable, with an absolute generational lead over all countries except the US. How could Tata Motors suddenly claim to have the world’s best EV energy efficiency?
Looking closely, the content said that in 2026, the International Council on Clean Transportation (ICCT) released a global auto energy efficiency rating, with Tata Motors ranking first at 106 Wh/km average electricity consumption, Mahindra second at 113 Wh/km, surpassing Tesla and BYD. Indian media erupted in celebration, claiming India’s EV efficiency is world No.1.
This ranking is indeed real; ICCT is an authoritative institution. But the caveats may be even greater than the previous three.
First, ICCT uses official certification test cycle data from each automaker, converted to comparable consumption, averaged across their entire EV fleet. Note: official certification data. India’s official certification uses the MIDC (Indian Driving Cycle), which has lower average speeds and fewer acceleration/deceleration events than the internationally used WLTC or CLTC. Simply put, a car with a 500 km CLTC range in China might become 600 km in India’s MIDC. And if you were to drive at 120 km/h from Beijing to Shanghai like Xiaomi’s Lei Jun did, that Tata car would likely need to charge seven or eight times.
Second, ICCT itself admits that Tata and Mahindra win because their cars are small, light, and low-powered. Models like Tata Sierra have curb weights around 1.5 tons and motor power under 100 kW, focusing on urban commuting. Tesla and BYD have cars weighing 1.8 to 3 tons. For the same weight and drag coefficient, Indian cars have no efficiency advantage. It’s like Tian Ji horse racing—India uses its inferior horses to compete in a single category.
Third, ICCT’s ranking only measures distance per kWh, not acceleration, charging speed, or price. And precisely charging is India’s EV shortcoming. The ICCT report points out that Tata is one of the slowest charging automakers—on the same list, it is both efficiency No.1 and charging worst.
Trying to communicate amicably, then getting deleted by Indians
In those threads, I also experienced something frustrating while conversing with Indians.
Regarding Indian railway freight, I posted a chart beneath showing transport data for China, US, Russia, and India.
- China total freight 59B MT (billion metric tons), of which road 43.28B MT, water 10.12B MT, rail 5.28B MT.
- US total freight 19B MT, road 12B MT, rail 1.4B MT, water 1.3B MT.
- Russia total freight 9B MT, road 7B MT, rail 1.2B MT.
- India total freight 6B MT, road 4B MT, rail 1.67B MT, water 0.3B MT.
The table objectively displayed the four countries’ data and acknowledged India’s rail freight of 1.67 billion tons as world No.2, second only to China’s 5.28 billion tons. But it got downvoted a few times and then deleted. The reason given: “does not meet subreddit rules.”
I later checked the subreddit rules. It was an Indian railway enthusiast fan community, used to discuss Indian railway news, issues, updates, photos, videos, and travel stories. The rules required respect when sharing experiences and information, abiding by subreddit rules, and keeping discussions civil. In short, it’s a place for railfans to celebrate and share their passion.
My comparison table had all correct data and acknowledged India’s railway as world No.2, but it carried an implicit untimely message. The original post said India is the world’s second-largest freight country; my table essentially said, “No, India’s total is only 1/10 of China’s, and it ranks fourth globally.”
Posting such a table under a celebratory fan post, even with correct data, is like crashing a party. Getting downvoted and deleted was normal.
But this incident taught me more than just getting downvoted. Being downvoted could still be interpreted as me saying something wrong. Being deleted made me see the nature of that space. It’s a fan community, whose function is to share pride, not discuss data. I was looking for facts there, like posting rival team’s tactical statistics in a football club’s forum. Not wrong, just out of place.
This again aligns with the caste logic. The rule of a fan community is: you can share your passion, but do not question the narrative. Questioning must come from a qualified position. And I, a Chinese railway enthusiast, have no qualification to point out in an Indian railway fan community that the total is actually not No.2.
Later I realized another thing: that table I made was essentially a product of “problem-seeking” thinking. An Indian posts celebrating world No.2, and my first reaction is to check data, make comparisons, and point out statistical scopes. That’s my “reflection code” running. And that subreddit runs on “contentment code”—sharing pride, not questioning. Two codes met in the same comment section, and the result was my deletion. The table wasn’t wrong; it was wrong for me to bring problem-seeking code into a space meant for highlighting positives.
After these experiences, I was once inclined to think that India just loves to boast, “win narrative brainwashed.” But then I realized: this “win narrative” is not unique to India.
How do Chinese people view these issues?
For instance, while verifying the Delhi Metro data, I found that Guangzhou Metro also promotes its own on-time rate as “world No.1 for many consecutive years,” including on the Guangzhou municipal government’s English website, which claims that multiple operational indicators of Guangzhou Metro are globally leading. However, when we see Guangzhou Metro’s achievements, we don’t find such data particularly boast-worthy; it seems ordinary. But when the protagonist becomes “Delhi,” it immediately feels “unreliable.” Digging deeper, I think the main reason is the inherent “modesty” in Chinese cultural DNA.
Calm over surpassing Japan, celebration over surpassing Britain
In 2010, China’s GDP surpassed Japan to become world No.2. What was the reaction of mainstream Chinese media at that time? Global Times’ headline was “China should be wary of the ‘world No.2’ hat.” The Chinese News Service (Xinhua) published articles analyzing why China responded low-key to the “world No.2” title. The entire public sphere was wary and cool toward the No.2 title.
In 2022, India’s GDP surpassed the UK to become world No.5. What was the Indian media’s reaction? Full media celebration, headlines directly declaring “India’s shining moment,” social media flooded with talk of karma and surpassing the former colonizer, even drawing British people into the debate.
Both were cases of overtaking another country, both economic milestones. China surpassing Japan was treated as a matter of course, with the first reaction being caution. India surpassing Britain, which is only world No.5, resulted in celebration. The bigger the target, the cooler the reaction; the smaller the target, the hotter the reaction. This contrast is more telling than any data.
Purchasing power parity: a joke in China, national policy in India
The World Bank’s Purchasing Power Parity (PPP) method for calculating GDP is a set of data metrics designed to help developing countries “mask anxiety.” While it has some validity, in a globally interconnected environment, it has significant limitations.
In China, PPP is basically a joke. Government reports don’t use it; the public largely ignores it; occasionally someone brings it up and everyone laughs. Because Chinese people know that PPP converts a basket of goods to compare purchasing power, and since goods and services in China are cheaper, PPP makes the total seem inflated. China’s official preference is to use the exchange-rate method, accepting a smaller number to stay clear-headed.
For example, in 2015, the World Bank calculated by PPP that China’s economy had surpassed the US that year. But the National Bureau of Statistics directly responded that it did not recognize this data, did not agree that China’s GDP had surpassed the US, and even issued a special statement emphasizing that the claim was unscientific. In 2020, the World Bank again calculated by PPP that China’s economy had long surpassed the US. This time, Tsinghua professor Xu Xianchun also wrote an article stressing that China remains the world’s largest developing country and should be wary of using PPP to calculate GDP.
In India, however, the situation is entirely different: PPP data is widely used. After all, by this metric, India’s PPP has reached $17 trillion, ranking third in the world after China and the US, far ahead of Japan and Germany. Indian media predict that India will become the world’s second-largest economy by 2038, also using PPP.
The same indicator: China fears it will mislead itself; India relies on it to boost itself. The attitude toward the same yardstick says more than any data about which country is in the phase of quantitative change or qualitative transformation.
This raises the question: why is there such a big difference between China and India? Why are Chinese people always wary of their own data, while Indians are always confident in theirs? After much reflection, I traced it to underlying cultural codes.
Differences in cultural underlying codes
Reflection and participation
Regarding the “win narrative,” I feel it is influenced by China’s culture of reflection, always preferring to be conservative, unwilling to expose itself before higher goals are achieved. Especially traditional cultural values like “cultivate oneself, regulate the family, govern the state, and bring peace to the world,” “examine oneself three times a day,” “do not do to others what you do not want done to yourself,” etc.—their commonality is focusing first on one’s own problems. Even the phrase “are kings and generals born noble?” essentially means that we are no different from kings and generals—in modern terms, we can look at America on equal footing.
So when Chinese people see economic achievements, see the skyscrapers of Shanghai and Shenzhen, their first thought is: what does this have to do with me? Second: is some of this achievement also my contribution? They even imagine when they themselves can go to such places, when their hometowns can also develop like that. I call this mentality “participation.” National achievements are my possibilities; I am related to them; I can participate through effort.
Contentment and disorder
The underlying code of Indian culture, I pondered for a long time, can only be summed up in one word: “contentment” (安分). This word contains three layers.
The first layer is acceptance: karma explains why you were born in your current position—it is the result of past lives; accept it first. The second layer is staying in one’s place: dharma dictates that you must fulfill the duties of your position and not overstep. The third layer is non-contention: the caste hierarchy tells you that this differentiated order is sacred; individuals do not seek to change positions, only to do what is right for their position.
However, it must be noted that the Chinese word “安分” often evokes obedience to rules, such as public hygiene and queuing. But obviously, Indians mostly don’t adhere to those. The “contentment” I refer to in Indian culture is not that horizontal kind of self-discipline in public spaces, but vertical hierarchical contentment. Indians can be messy on the ground, yet highly obedient to caste, religion, and authority. This is not a contradiction; rather, “contentment” only covers vertical order, not the horizontal public sphere. In summary, India’s underlying code is: vertical contentment, horizontal disorder.
So when Indians see the skyscrapers of Hyderabad, they comment below with “Our country is truly great.” I call this mentality “pride.” National achievements are the pride of ordinary Indians, but not necessarily something they can participate in. A Shudra will take pride in a Brahmin’s life because it is the glory of the same order—elite achievements are the collective spiritual asset of all lower-caste people.
Participation vs. pride
Participation and pride are the key to understanding the China-India difference.
Chinese pride generally comes with a sense of participation. National achievements must fall upon me personally; my life details are the battlefield of discussion. So Chinese netizens, when discussing any China-foreign comparison, instinctively ask: what does this mean for me? Thus the discussion naturally spreads to social security, wages, healthcare, housing, education, mobile phones, lithography machines, aircraft carriers, electric vehicles, and even traditional Chinese medicine. Because everyone seeks problems from their own interests, and those interests are infinite and multidimensional, the discussion is always divergent, never convergent, leading to endless tug-of-war, with no one convincing anyone.
Indian pride is a kind of pride with caste order. National achievements are everyone’s pride, but do not need to fall upon me, so abstract rankings are enough. Indian netizens, when discussing China-foreign comparisons, instinctively ask: what does this prove about how great we are? Thus they focus on what best proves greatness: numerical rankings, GDP No.3, electrification rate 99.6%, punctuality rate 99.95%. Because numerical rankings are abstract, singular, and do not need to fall upon individuals, discussions naturally converge and satisfaction comes quickly.
Problem-seekers are always anxious; highlight-seekers are always buoyant. These two thinking habits determine the undertones of the two public spheres. China’s public sphere is problem-oriented and serious; India’s is highlight-oriented and buoyant.
Even tea leaves are compared with China
I spent some time in an “Indian Statistics” subreddit and noticed a phenomenon: at any given time, nearly half of the front-page post titles are comparisons between India and China. Tea production: India is world No.2, second only to China. GDP: India vs China. GDP per capita PPP: India vs China. Manufacturing value added: compare. Exports: compare. Services exports: compare. Semiconductor policy: compare. Number of medical colleges: compare. Some even made a chart showing India’s GDP per capita PPP equivalent to which year of China, concluding that it’s currently at China’s 2007 level.
Such comparisons are not inherently problematic, but even tea leaves being reported as “second only to China” is telling. Tea is grown in both China and India; whoever produces slightly more does not affect anyone’s life, but Indian netizens still feel the need to announce it. This shows that under the logic of pride, China is India’s most natural reference point. Indians need a mirror, and China is that mirror. This reference itself carries a certain obsession: if a country’s confidence is built on comparison with another, that confidence is somewhat uneasy. A truly confident country does not need to constantly confirm that its neighbor is inferior.
But in the same subreddit, Indians also criticize themselves mercilessly. There are posts citing US university professors’ papers with titles like “Many failures of Modi government.” Posts saying that audit departments found a 98% shortfall in forest cover targets under the Green India plan. Posts asking why Indian cities are hell on earth. And posts with titles like “Can we stop posting those AI-written fluff pieces saying India has become paradise since 2014?” These posts all have decent upvote counts. So within India’s public sphere, praise and criticism coexist, and both are real. Pride and self-doubt exist simultaneously in the same subreddit.
Indians habitually say they are equivalent to China in 2007
Among India-China comparisons, a particular narrative is very telling. Indians often say that India today is equivalent to China in 2005, 2006, or 2007—some year after 2000. I’ve seen this many times in Indian subreddits; Indians themselves like this comparison, citing a host of indicators to argue whether it’s 2007 or 2006, and they argue fiercely over it.
But in China, I have almost never seen anything similar. Chinese people do not say “we are equivalent to the US in 1995” or “equivalent to Germany in 2008.” China has overarching goals, such as surpassing the US in total GDP by 2035, reaching the level of moderately developed countries in per capita GDP by 2050, and so on. Even decades ago, China might have made such retrospective comparisons, but today, that phrasing has completely disappeared from Chinese public discourse.
Facing the same stronger reference, the two temporal perspectives are completely opposite. Indians anchor today’s achievements to China’s past: “We are equivalent to you 20 years ago,” implying that we will eventually reach where you are now. This superficially acknowledges the gap, but in fact implies that the gap will inevitably be closed. It is a self-soothing statement that translates the current lag into a timeline to the future.
Chinese people anchor the present to future goals: we don’t talk about “equivalent to whom,” only “when we surpass whom.” This phrasing doesn’t even want to confirm the gap, jumping directly to the finish line coordinates. It is self-motivation that translates the current position into a task that must be accomplished.
One looks backward, using the past to cheer itself on. The other looks forward, using the future to pressure itself. Those who look backward constantly check how far they’ve come, so their anxiety carries expectation. Those who look forward only stare at the finish line, so their silence carries urgency. Which is better? I can’t say, but placing the two mindsets side by side explains why China’s and India’s public spheres are one lively and the other restrained.
Different logics of opposition in similar public spheres
At this point, I discovered another counterintuitive thing: how each handles external negative evaluations.
To be honest, online, foreigners who praise China or India are in the minority; negative attitudes are the norm. But in dealing with these negative evaluations, China and India show completely different opposition logics.
For example, when foreigners question China’s high-speed rail online, Chinese netizens often respond with arguments such as China’s air transport is underdeveloped, Western countries don’t have as much demand for high-speed rail, China has different national conditions, etc. Obviously, this is because they can’t outperform in high-speed rail, so they use air transport demand to rationalize—although there is some truth, it clearly shows defensiveness. In the face of such evaluations, Chinese netizens still tend to discuss issues on their merits, highlight the advantages of high-speed rail, emphasize convenience and comfort, and argue properly. At worst, they can bring up the “California high-speed rail” joke to shut people up.
But India’s handling of external negative evaluations operates on a completely different logic.
Indians’ defensiveness has a clear hierarchical order: questioning India requires a “qualification” prerequisite. If the negative evaluation comes from a caste level comparable to Brahmins, they may accept it internally even if dissatisfied on the surface. But if the evaluation comes from regions or groups they consider lower caste, it will inevitably provoke the fiercest opposition.
In short, Chinese people usually still consider whether the other side’s argument makes sense—even if BBC routinely inserts “at what cost?” into its articles, we still want to see what “cost” it refers to. But Indians directly judge external evaluations by hierarchical order, without any regard for whether the argument is reasonable.
We often see online videos of Indians coming to China “penniless” for “poor travel,” relying on “begging,” staying in hostels, hitchhiking, and mooching meals. But if you look at their names and appearances, you’ll find they mostly belong to higher castes. We see such “freeloading” as low-class and unreasonable, but in their eyes, it’s the daily “special treatment” of high castes. They don’t think that by changing countries—China, the US, or the UK—caste distinctions disappear; this mindset is ingrained in their DNA. The only question is what caste they perceive you as.
India’s win narrative is not entirely boasting
They are building substance too
Over the past two decades, many of India’s indicators have indeed surged. One could even say India is probably the most successful country globally in economic development after China since 2000.
A quick review of posts I’ve seen in Indian subreddits—the same “India has become paradise” arguments mentioned earlier, besides the ones already noted—include: India’s population with electricity access grew from about 60% in 2000 to nearly 100% today. India’s forest coverage has long been slightly above China’s (China ~24.43%, India ~24.72%). India’s medical colleges grew from over 300 before Modi to over 830 now, with clinical medicine enrollments rising from 30,000–40,000 per year to 140,000. Foreign direct investment as a share of GDP is also higher than China’s currently.
Overall, India’s relative gap to China is roughly equivalent to China’s gap to the US in 2006. China’s GDP in 2006 was about $2.75 trillion, the US about $13.8 trillion—a gap of about 5 times. India in 2025 is about $4 trillion, China about $18–19 trillion—a gap of about 4.5 to 4.7 times. That is, today’s India stands where China stood in 2006.
India also has its own development philosophy. Former RBI Governor Raghuram Rajan openly advocates that India need not copy East Asia’s industrialization model; services plus high-skill human capital could also work. Indians themselves believe that industrialization is East Asia’s approach, and India doesn’t need to copy it. The expansion of medical colleges is the implementation of this philosophy: medicine is the hardest service in the tertiary sector, selling services doesn’t require factories, just trained people.
So behind India’s win narrative is not just bragging. The boastful component is large, not because Indians are stupid, but because they are impatient—impatient to be seen by the world. A country that solved electricity access for 600 million people in 20 years indeed experiences such indicators differently from a country that has long forgotten what blackouts were.
Optimism third in the world
Recently a post mentioned that Indians rank third globally in optimism: 69% of Indians believe their country is heading in the right direction, second only to Singapore (79%) and Hungary (72%). By comparison, France is 10%, Germany 13%, and the global average is 38%. 75% of Indians are confident in India’s economic outlook, compared to the global average of 36% (China not included in this ranking).
But in the same report, what are Indians most worried about? Unemployment, followed by financial and political corruption, poverty and social inequality, crime and violence, and inflation re-entering the top five. The report’s producer, Ipsos’s India CEO Ramalingam, put it bluntly: “Indians are confident in the country’s future while calling for stronger action on issues affecting daily life. This combination of hope and responsibility is often a hallmark of an actively engaged and aspirational society.”
The most interesting part of this report is that optimism and worry coexist in the same country, in the same people. Indians simultaneously believe the country is on the right track and worry about unemployment. They are optimistic about the future and dissatisfied with the present. This does not contradict the win narrative we see online; the win narrative is one side, anxiety is the other. Optimism is a judgment about direction, worry is about life experience—both can coexist. This is why I keep saying that judging India in black and white is impossible, because even the country’s own emotions are layered.
Data manipulation is not that simple either
Some might say Indian data is inflated, even cow dung is counted in GDP. This claim is widespread, but the reality is more complicated than the meme.
The “cow dung in GDP” meme originates from 2015. That year, India revised its GDP calculation method, adopting a new base year and new algorithm, incorporating more non-market self-consumption activities into the statistics, including rural self-production and self-consumption, livestock manure, etc. Growth rates were suddenly revised upward, drawing international skepticism and ridicule as “cow dung GDP.” But to be precise, it was not counting cow dung as GDP; it was that the new algorithm included some previously omitted non-market activities.
And in early 2026, India did something few countries do: it actively “deflated” its data. India released a new GDP series with the base year updated to 2022-23, resulting in a reduction of total economic size compared to the old series—nominal GDP, per capita GDP, and growth rates all revised downward. Financial media noted that India is now further from the $5 trillion economy goal. In effect, the Indian government admitted that the previous scope was overly optimistic.
The IMF also gave India’s statistics a poor rating. In its 2025 assessment report, it gave India’s national accounts a C-grade, noting that outdated base years and data quality hindered judgment. Indians themselves are also reflecting: for example, last year a popular post was “IMF’s criticism of Indian economy is not an alarm, but a signal to improve data quality,” and the thread still has many active debates.
At the same time, India’s GDP also suffers from undercounting. For instance, Mumbai’s Dharavi, the world’s largest slum, on a few square kilometers of land, hosts countless leather, ceramic, food processing, and other cottage industries, supporting millions of people. These slum economic activities are essential lubricants for big cities like Mumbai, but all operate outside official statistics. Some economists estimate that India’s informal economy accounts for 30-50% of GDP, with wide fluctuations, indeed hard to verify precisely.
Because overestimation and underestimation coexist and pull in opposite directions, some believe India’s GDP is greatly understated, while others say it’s significantly overstated. Both sides choose the half of the picture they need, and no one can convince the other.
However, if we cross-reference PPP and market exchange rates, India’s GDP of under $4 trillion is not unreasonable.
Every generation has its own opportunities
Looking deeper, behind India’s win narrative is also the issue of generational opportunities. Every generation has its own opportunities—that’s my perspective.
From East Asia, Japan and South Korea’s development seized the opportunities of the Cold War and the unified Western market under the US, including early US-Europe industrial transfers and the spillover of the US IT industry. China’s biggest external opportunities over the past 40 years include the collapse of the Soviet Union, deindustrialization in Europe and America, and the boom in information technology.
India now has new opportunities as well. The US-China rivalry gives it room to play both sides. Trump’s immigration policies and the West’s turn toward conservatism are also good for India, because previously Indian migrants almost never returned, but now if the West doesn’t accept them, more talent can come back to India. The development of AI can also significantly affect education, workforce training, and potential technological innovation.
However, while opportunities are fair, whether they can be seized is another matter. Japan and South Korea gained Cold War dividends through government-led industrial policy and education systems. China completed its industrialization transition on the foundation of industrial systems built in the previous three decades, strong macroeconomic regulation, and talent cultivation. Facing US-China rivalry and AI, India has a young workforce and diplomatic space, but its female labor force participation is globally the lowest, its education and skills gap is enormous, and its IT outsourcing is being hit first by AI. Whether it can go further is uncertain.
For example, AI is a paradoxical opportunity for India. India’s IT industry generates over $300 billion in annual revenue, and AI automation is causing massive layoffs in that sector. India wants to ride AI to take off, but AI may first destroy its existing pillar industry. When China developed its IT industry, it was in an incremental environment; India now faces AI impact as a stock crisis. Whether it can turn crisis into opportunity is hard to predict.
Indians are also sober-minded
After spending more time on the American forum, I found that beyond those patriotic subreddits, there are also some critical public spheres where Indians themselves reflect.
For example, in a “Critical Thinking India” subreddit, someone asked: India was able to borrow to write its own constitution, so why can’t it directly copy foreign laws and successful policies today? I replied with a case study: in the early 2000s, Andhra Pradesh copied Bangladesh’s Grameen Bank microfinance poverty alleviation model as a perfect solution, but it triggered a disastrous wave of farmer suicides—hundreds killed themselves because they couldn’t repay high-interest loans. The state government urgently legislated to restrict or even shut down microfinance institutions. Bangladesh’s model was the easiest to copy in terms of policy, yet the result was disastrous.
Interestingly, this answer received rational responses from Indians. Some said the Grameen Bank model can only serve as a supplementary financing channel, not a magic bullet; it cannot raise the productivity of illiterate, uneducated, or unskilled people. Also, Bangladesh had simultaneously done economic liberalization, signed free trade agreements with the US and Europe, developed textile exports, and raised female literacy—India remains highly protectionist and relies on IT. Others said that laws from Singapore or Switzerland can be copied, but laws cannot change a country’s culture; changing people’s minds is a multi-generational project, not something legislation can solve. Still others said politicians only care about elections, and there is a huge disconnect between top and bottom. The depth of these discussions rivals any country’s economic forum.
For instance, in the same subreddit, someone asked why India is the third-largest importer of US ethanol. I commented that India’s massive ethanol imports are purely the result of politicians forcefully pushing a 20% ethanol blending plan with gasoline; in reality, ethanol has low calorific value, offsetting cost advantages, and has almost no effect on daily gasoline prices. This time, Indians couldn’t refute, only replying that the government says blended ethanol fuel is domestically produced and from farmers.
What do these exchanges show? That there are people in India’s public sphere who understand economics, can question, and can discuss rationally. The loudest win narrative subreddits are only the most visible part of Indian public discourse, not the whole. Official propaganda and grassroots awareness are two different things. There are sober Indians, but their voices are drowned out by patriotic narratives. This is why I say India cannot be judged in black and white.
In fact, from the numerous India-China comparison posts, it’s not hard to see that Indians are generally convinced of China’s superiority—at least half convinced. They know the total gap is huge, know per capita lags by more than 20 years, know the specific indicators are far behind. Yet they still post repeatedly to confirm these gaps, repeatedly laying out the differences. This is less about “winning” and more about unwillingness—reluctance to accept the gap, so they must compare daily.
This mentality I know too well: in my early days on Chinese forums and Tieba, Chinese netizens had the same attitude toward Europe and America. The difference is that Chinese netizens’ comparisons automatically spread to areas related to each individual, while Indian netizens’ comparisons stop at the numbers.
Some conclusions that need long-term verification
The Indian EV story I mentioned earlier really struck me. When I saw that post, I did not immediately question the conclusion; instead, I recalled China’s own EV development path. For example, after China launched EV subsidies in 2009, up to around 2016, there were countless cases of subsidy fraud. If you looked at China’s EV industry in 2016, it didn’t look much different from India’s EV industry today—lots of fraud, lots of PPT cars, lots of policy dependence.
India’s current EV efficiency propaganda is essentially a stance of overtaking on a bend. When traditional tracks can’t win, create a new track. Just like China’s decision to develop EVs in the early 2000s—initially, the products were also subsidy scams, but later quantitative change became qualitative change.
But there is a key difference. China was forced into it—high oil dependency, environmental pressure, industrial upgrade needs—no way out. And China had four cards: a complete industrial system, battery industry chain, engineer dividend. India now does not have that pressure, nor that system. Indian EV batteries rely on imports, the supply chain is missing, and charging infrastructure is insufficient. Starting with fraud, China actually succeeded through fraud; India is still stuck in the fraud stage.
Without urgency, there is no real driving force for quantitative change. Quantitative change does not accumulate with time; it accumulates under pressure. India currently lacks the urgency to build an industrial system—that’s understandable—but if it truly wants to surpass China or the US, the situation could be severe. But that’s a long way off.
India’s other direction
India also has a path that China does not: the elite route.
For example, as mentioned, India’s medical colleges grew from over 300 to over 830. Training at that scale, India’s future supply of doctors will surely exceed demand.
But this problem is almost non-existent in India, because the doctors India trains are largely meant to emigrate. The UK’s NHS, the US, the Middle East—all absorb large numbers of Indian doctors. Modi’s expansion of medical colleges over the past decade is not entirely for “domestic demand.” When doctors go from scarce to surplus, export becomes the only outlet.
From the perspective of Indian culture, India has never worried about brain drain; in fact, they have been scaling it up and using labor export as a major source of remittances. As a result, India’s remittance income has been the world’s No.1 for years, far ahead.
This phenomenon is actually highly self-consistent within Indian society, rooted in caste culture. Indians are born with a methodology for identifying caste, applicable everywhere. The caste system is essentially a system of lower classes serving upper classes. In Indians’ eyes, people serving people is a natural thing. Exporting labor to serve foreigners is not something worth criticizing; rather, it leverages India’s human resources. The only dispute, as mentioned earlier, is that such export assumes lower castes serve higher castes, not the reverse.
India also has the “100 million people” model online. It suggests that India’s top 100+ million people support a high-value service market the size of a developed country—IT, finance, pharmaceuticals, healthcare—all supplied and consumed by the elite. India does not need to modernize the entire population; just 100-200 million people reaching developed-country levels is enough to support high-value services GDP. This model is extremely attractive to rulers—no need for the arduous task of nationwide industrialization; just concentrate resources on the elite.
This line of reasoning is not without merit, after all, Indians themselves believe in karma and fate; high castes are not responsible for low castes.
But this culture is naturally a breeding ground for the “Latin American trap.” The economic elements and manifestations of the “Latin American trap” are almost all present in India.
Yet Indians may not see “Latin Americanization” as a flaw. Just like Mumbai’s Asia’s richest man Adani, whose 27-floor luxury villa sits next to slums—both high and low castes see that scene without any sense of incongruity.
Two sets of codes need translation
Originally, I just wanted to complain about some frustrations in communicating with Indian netizens. But unexpectedly, I couldn’t stop writing; the entire weekend was spent pondering this.
At first, when thinking about India’s “win narrative,” my immediate impression was that Indians talk big, constantly compare themselves with China to seek a sense of existence—a typical “win narrative” culture.
But after checking the data, I realized I may have “misunderstood” them.
They are not “showing off everywhere” in the world; rather, they treat the “outside world” as their own living room, completely unaware that those are other people’s territory—perhaps they don’t even have the cultural psychology of “inside vs. outside.”
I’ve often heard that Indians hold a “P5” status on some global internet platforms, such as “YouTube P5,” with India ranking first. Checking the data, it turns out that the top social, news, and entertainment platforms of US internet giants are largely used by Indians as their “national” apps. For instance, YouTube’s user base in India is far ahead of any other country. The American forum (Reddit) I’ve been browsing likely has the same situation.
For Indians, almost every Silicon Valley giant has a large number of Indian diaspora; they treat Silicon Valley products as their “own living room,” which is logically self-consistent.
Looking around, this issue is not unique to India. For most countries outside China, no one can escape Silicon Valley products. What Chinese see as “international” platforms are actually the daily norm for most of the world—only we Chinese find it unbelievable.
Ultimately, in Indians’ eyes, they are not deliberately “showing off everywhere” to make me, a Chinese, see it; rather, I happen to see them dancing in their “own living room” through a telescope from outside.
We Chinese find it hard to understand a culture that lacks a sense of “inside vs. outside”—how can a person behave in public as casually as in their own living room or bathroom?
Once we understand that “they are not deliberately showing off to foreigners,” the next step is to learn how to get along with this code.
Returning to Reddit’s karma: this core feature has persisted for so many years, showing that Silicon Valley executives indeed have some skill—they seamlessly grafted “karma culture” into American culture. This further indicates that American culture likely shares common underlying interfaces with India.
Overall, Indians thrive on the American internet, not because they are like Americans, but because the American internet is like India.
Take Reddit, for example: within each subreddit, any comment deviating from community consensus is treated like a “low soul” that has violated its moral duties in Hinduism—its weight is reduced, hidden, collapsed. This screening ostensibly maintains community order, but in fact constructs information islands and echo chambers, reinforcing cognitive conditioning of segmented groups, allowing modern digital platforms, in the name of technology, to re-enact the most ancient caste logic.
I often think: on Chinese domestic networks, you only need to follow a unified legal framework to move freely. But on foreign platforms like these, you must carefully read each small circle’s “self-made rules,” agree with each small group’s “values,” to be accepted; otherwise, “karma” strikes and drives you out of the system. Within this system, there is no room for “moderates” or “objectivists”—either you support, or you oppose; no other options. Those who can stay are only the most steadfast “believers.”
And these are all things we Chinese are not good at or find difficult to understand. “Moderation” (中庸) culture is too passive when dealing with American and Indian cultures.
This article took several days to write. The real gain is not exposing how much of India’s “win narrative” is propaganda, but gaining a deeper appreciation for the diversity of the world.
After all, India’s population is already the world’s largest, and we will inevitably face more and more incomprehensible things related to Indians in the future.