‘Hopeless’ or the phenomenology of a song gone viral in China
Chinese musician and influencer Wang Bo has turned a Taipei politician's quip into a track that has become popular on both sides of the Taiwan Strait in recent weeks. Mainland China has tried to coopt it as a tool against the rebel island's government, but the real message is self-deprecation in the face of widespread dissatisfaction, even in the self-proclaimed “second world power”.
Taipei (AsiaNews) - You were supposed to face everything calmly and confidently, but now you're running around, staggering and crawling. You're knowingly lying. Why are you so emotional? Why are you crying? You're hopeless.
These lines, full of drama and emotional tension, are inspired by a question raised in 2017 by then Municipal Councillor Wang Shijian (Shih-chien) during a meeting of the Taipei City Council.
Unexpectedly, during the 2025 national holiday week, musician and influencer Wang Bo turned those words into lyrics and music, giving birth to the song “Hopeless” (没出息), which went viral overnight.
The catchy melody, combined with an original, emotionally charged video, created an audiovisual effect as ironic as it was profound.
The song quickly spread, spawning versions in Mandarin, Japanese, English, and other languages, becoming a transnational phenomenon that swept across both sides of the Taiwan Strait.
The song’s success stems primarily from Wang Bo's ability to capture Internet trends and use them with extraordinary creativity. This is not the first time that he has transformed online memes into pop music; a year ago, his children's song “Hoodie” was a huge hit.
This time was no exception. From the childish comment about the hoodie to Wang Shijian's fiery political speech, Wang Bo shows a popular creativity capable of "turning everything into a song”.
This way of creating "from local material", combined with the platforms' algorithmic tools, has produced an irresistible viral effect – "hypnotic, catchy, contagious" – that has become a typical example of cross-strait cultural resonance.
The meme behind the song is based on the words of Councillor Wang Shijian, dubbed "The King Who Supports the Dragon". It is said that many officials he "reprimanded" went on to advance in their careers.
In the era of music memes, his image in Taiwan has become that of a Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) politician who puts citizens' interests first, above and beyond party politics. He was also recently elected to the Taiwan’s parliament (Legislative Yuan).
Mainland China’s Taiwan Affairs Office take on the song's success is interesting. China’s main state broadcaster, Central Cina TV, carried the song.
A government spokesperson welcomed this "spontaneous and fun interaction" between the two sides of the Strait, but also took the opportunity to say that the song is reminiscent of "hopeless Taiwanese politicians" who are making Taiwan "lumber and crawl" while China’s work on Taiwan proceeds “calmly and confidently”.
In China, many state media outlets and social media have since amplified this political interpretation, publishing extended versions of the song that seem to condemn Lai Ching-te and Taiwanese independence.
In fact, for many mainland Chinese, seeing politicians questioned "like grandchildren being scolded by their grandfather," without being able to respond is almost unthinkable.
Just like the videos of the late US judge Frank Caprio, beloved by Chinese audiences, "Hopeless" has also aroused not only emotional empathy, but also a subtle admiration for the political system and the control of power that exist on the other side of the Strait.
The reason the song has touched netizens so deeply is that its lyrics perfectly describe the collective anxiety and profound self-irony of those caught between dreams and reality.
Alternative versions of the song have emerged—"drunk-driving edition," "gourmet edition," "stock market edition," and a "student edition" connected to every stage of life: at 20, one believes one can live "calmly and confidently”; at 30, one finds oneself "breathless and staggering”; at 40, one "consciously lies”; at 50, one finds oneself "crying silently in the middle of the night”; and at the end, one mocks oneself with "you're hopeless”.
The song’s universality regardless of age and profession allows everyone to identify with it.
Some critics argue that this emotional outburst is not entirely negative: it represents a collective catharsis.
By laughing together and making fun of oneself, listeners learn to accept themselves and come to terms with their own imperfections. "Hopeless" thus becomes the opposite of a "motivational song": through humour, it transforms frustration into a form of encouragement.
It says life is hard, but we must still "stagger and crawl" with a smile.
Beyond the political metaphors and the lightheartedness of the pop phenomenon, it leaves behind a disturbing reflection: if citizens in a society so widely share feelings of anxiety, helplessness, and self-deprecation, it is a profound signal.
The sequence from "living calmly" to "staggering and crawling," especially in the "student" version (kindergarten: "calmly”; middle school: “hurriedly”; high school: “staggering”; university: “knowingly lying”; first job: “why are you crying?”; middle age: “"hopeless”"), accurately describes the collective desperation of those who, in a context of systemic injustice and social rigidity, no longer have room for progress.
The emotional surge that accompanies the song is a silent protest against regression, social pressure, and the inequality in the distribution of resources.
Curiously, just as "Hopeless" was taking over the Internet, Chinese state media launched a campaign to “curb the winds of negative emotions”.
State-owned media like the People's Daily, CCTV, and China News are warning against the “intentional spread of negative emotions”, arguing that many social cases are "amplified in a biased way” and “pollute the Internet”.
This official narrative, however, contrasts starkly with the public's perception. Over the past decade, news reports of leaders personally visiting disaster-stricken sites have declined; during the Baise flood (Guangxi), for example, there was almost no media coverage for days.
Accidents, suicides, and everyday tragedies are often removed from social media within hours. The suffering and voices of ordinary people remain confined to the margins of the Internet.
Amid the country’s economic crisis, insecurity, and growing discontent, many people see the words of "Hopeless" as a form of resistance and introspection.
When a country that proclaimed itself the "second world power" finds itself isolated and plagued by internal problems, the contrast becomes painful.
The words “Why are you crying? You're hopeless” no longer sound like mere self-deprecation, but rather a veiled criticism of the government. People are asking: how did we go from “living calmly” to “staggering and crawling”? Isn't it time for serious reflection?
“Hopeless” has thus gone from being a simple meme to becoming a collective outlet, an ironic and profound way to express dissatisfaction with reality and concerns for the future.
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03/07/2017 09:22
16/01/2008
