Guan is the Partner at Antler, China. Previously an entrepreneur backed by Dr Li Kai Fu’s Sinovation Ventures, Guan also built and led one of the leading business units of VIPKID, an ed-tech unicorn in China, and has a cross-cultural Chinese-Swedish background. Off the back of COVID quarantine, Guan shares his reflections from the past few weeks, and observations being back on the ground.
MY TECH JOURNEY BACK TO CHINA
I recently took a flight unlike any other. Wearing a poncho, mask and ski goggles, I was bundled up in full protective gear in an effort to travel to China from Singapore, two days before it closed its borders to all non-Chinese passport holders.
There was a patchwork of information on different cities’ measures, from multiple WeChat groups, public accounts (公众号) and Circles (微信圈)¹, and it was difficult to know what to expect upon landing. Almost everyone was in protective gowns, swimming goggles, double masks and gloves. Taking precaution had reached a whole new level. Even while in the air, the regulations changed and were implemented within an hour.
Upon landing, we had our temperatures checked while seated, and disembarked in batches, based on our risk level of green, yellow or red. Aside from temperature, the color code assigned to each individual was a result of their travel history, the plane’s passenger load and big data multifactorial analysis of our likelihood of carrying the virus. I scanned a QR code to provide my information — the first of almost 20 QR codes I would scan in the coming 24 hours that would collect my exact location, travel history and perhaps even whether I was inadvertently exposed to a nearby infected stranger.
QR codes had been part of daily life before in China and have rapidly been repurposed to manage the crisis. China’s universal adoption of QR codes is by now well-known, especially with Tencent’s integration of payments, communication and mini-apps, but here it has been smoothly mobilised for mass use in the name of public health.
Tracing movements through apps and our smartphones have been an integral part of how the Chinese government has tracked and traced every individual during this pandemic. Governments, telcos, neighbourhood offices and shops had quickly combined and adopted the QR code as a way to ensure seamless monitoring, which was easily adopted by a populace interested in keeping themselves safe. For this to work, my telco had to confirm that I’d been in Singapore based on cell tower transmissions, my street administrator would get information on my return to Beijing before I even boarded the plane, my condo would know when they could expect me back after my quarantine. This means that when I finally left quarantine to get back to my flat, or when I later left my flat for in-person meetings, I wouldn’t have to fill up more forms and wait for approval. It would all be ready and waiting.
My tech lifelines during quarantine
I’d been expecting the worst kind of budget hotel for the quarantine facility. However, I was housed in a decent government-owned hotel, two hours out from Beijing. Adults with no children or elderly were separated and each floor had at least one security personnel to keep corridors clear. Everyone would get three meals a day delivered to their rooms.
Thankfully, the WiFi was good. This was going to be my lifeline for the next 14 days.
When you’re stuck in a 25 square meter room for a while, you realize what you really need to keep sane. For me it was friends, exercise, and finding the time to delve into how people were connecting during this Covid-19 period.
WeChat, that superapp that encompasses transport, food, payments, shopping, chat, business and social interactions, was a natural starting point. I posted daily Moments — similar to what you would get on a Facebook wall, but imagine that Facebook is just another app within Whatsapp, and you’d be about halfway there. I had friends asking if I needed anything or calling to congratulate me for being almost home.
Douyin 抖音 (the original Chinese version of TikTok) also became a lifeline for me as it has been for countless people in and out of China. I made my first short video in quarantine. The fascinating thing with Douyin is that Chinese audiences are actually interested in the seemingly mundane. I posted videos of my room and view, the food I was eating, grooming myself for a new work day in “my office” and doing pushups.
Views and followers started building (I have very supportive friends), and I finally started a live streaming session where I could interact with viewers, completely ad hoc. For two hours I went about my day, shared a few tips on staying fit in a small space, and answered questions on how other countries such as Sweden and Singapore were affected by and dealing with the healthcare crisis. By the end of the session I had over 600 viewers — not bad for a first time amateur, but nothing in comparison to an influencer on the platform. Although I made some money on virtual gifts from some of them.
It was my first direct taste of how Douyin has given rise to a new industry, new ways of consumption and engagement, and why its parent company Bytedance is worth over USD 75 billion. User generated content (UGC) has become more advanced and adopted in China than in any other part of the world, especially for short video format and live streaming. Quite unlike pure passive engagement or ad revenue, it has spun out an entire new category of influencers and entertainers who can directly make actual money off the app, by viewer contributions or purchases. While ByteDance’s main revenues come from ads displayed in its suite of apps including its flagship product Jinri Toutiao 今日头条 (“today’s headlines”), Douyin’s monetization model is based on users or business owners promoting their videos on its platform. Video and live streaming apps are increasingly becoming a dominant channel for consuming content for many users, and it is also the highest contributing category to increased time spent on mobile devices. As adoption of video content and apps increases and becomes the new dominant medium, I would anticipate a vast amount of use cases to be implemented on various video platforms, beyond pure entertainment — learning new skills, buying things, promoting things, and just discovery of new things in general.
From remote villages to cosmopolitan cities
Part of this is the interface and UX- you’re fully immersed in a particular video when you’re watching it, and automatically it takes you to a new video versus inviting you to click on something else. It’s minimal effort. Part of it is cultural and part psychological — it isn’t just attractive or funny people who become influencers. There are representatives from different walks of life. You could be an affluent model in Shanghai, or a farmer in a border city, or a mysterious girl living a peaceful life in the countryside making traditional Chinese food. In a country so large, diverse and competitive, it’s more of a window into other people’s lives than entertainment and the connection between viewers and influencers can run deep.
Finally, Douyin’s integration into other functions is remarkable, not least of all with online purchases. Stuck in quarantine, I watched one of the largest first-time live streaming e-commerce sessions as Luo Yonghao, a startup figure who has been having a difficult spell, began his first ever livestream e-commerce sessions involving almost everything from snacks, to tea, facial products and shaving gears. It was both entertaining and lucrative — 110 million RMB (about 15million USD) of goods were sold within two hours, which is only a taste of the scale to which the livestreaming e-commerce industry could grow as individuals and companies continue to build their brands on these platforms. Both Douyin and Kuaishou 快手, Douyin’s main competitor, have become the top two video apps in China and continue to compete fiercely during Covid.
The new normal — tracing every step of the way
Between these tools, meetings over Zoom, work and reading, 14 days passed quickly. When I got back to our compound, apartment security was expecting me. My test results and certificates of quarantine completion granted me access into the compound, which remains strictly controlled with no visitors allowed in residential buildings. This prevents people from meeting up for dinner parties but at the same time enables delivery men access to contactless drop offs of food and parcels.
Among the cities in China, Beijing is probably the most restrictive. Business activities are slowly resuming, but still only at about 50% of its usual pace and vibrancy. Only 50% of a company’s employees can be in the office at a given time. Streets are still half empty, and the shadow of the QR code continues to follow you through office towers, restaurants and anywhere else outside your home.
Every individual has their own QR code called a health code (健康码) that reveals your Covid-19 status and determines your entry. Masks are expected to be worn by everyone, which is likely to continue even after the government lifts that requirement on June 1.
It seems invasive, but I’m rarely bothered by these restrictions — everything has worked more or less seamlessly, which is astounding if you consider the size and population of Beijing alone (almost the entire population of Australia for comparison). While other countries are also rolling out health code systems or tracking systems based on smartphones, these have tended to be opt-in, given the tradeoff between personal privacy and public security. Unfortunately, these are likely to be far less effective. In times like these, when we are at war with a viral enemy that spreads so rapidly, I’ve come to appreciate the importance of surveillance, tracing and the ability to track in real time and execute next steps efficiently.
Danger and Opportunity: 危机- how can they co-exist?
It might seem to be the worst time to be an entrepreneur, but I’d argue the opposite. The Chinese word for crisis is “危机” — the first character means danger, and the second means opportunity”. This crisis has not only shown what is possible, but the problems that remain to be solved. What it takes to succeed as an entrepreneur has not necessarily changed- it has actually been enhanced. The most dedicated and strongest founders will find their focus and direction in this difficult time, and realize the worst problems and greatest opportunities still remain to be solved.
Despite the tools we now have, and the solutions which continue to develop in response to the pandemic, there is much left that can be done, and much more which I can imagine technology is currently doing for us. The tools we now have are only a marginal improvement. I wished that factories could autonomously produce masks, and self driving cars could make contactless deliveries. Unfortunately neither of those are yet reality. There is still a long way to go, and many more improvements we can make as humans.
But as someone working with founders at the very start of their journey, I truly believe the best is yet to come. The world needs more courageous entrepreneurs to start businesses that solve real, and global problems. If you are considering taking that leap, or if you want to support founders who will really solve problems and leave an imprint on the world, reach out at guan@ antler.co and find out more on antler.co.
[1] That all of these are tied to WeChat highlights its centrality to individuals and companies. @GGV Capital has as great post on WeChat’s versatility throughout the day, and @The Startup has a post on its evolution.
