China is often portrayed by Western media as a police state, or a Gulag, where its citizens are perceived to live in constant fear under heavy state surveillance.
The US, on the contrary, is known as the land of the free, the shining city upon a hill, where its citizens enjoy the utmost freedom possible for human beings.
However, in reality, the difference between two global superpowers can often be measured in the silence of their streets—or the lack thereof.
In January 2026, the quiet of a Minneapolis morning was shattered by three gunshots. Renee Nicole Good, a widow and mother of three, lay dead in her car, the victim of an ICE agent’s "perceived threat." Five months prior and half a world away, a different kind of silence settled over a residential hallway in Guangzhou, China. There, the "war" between two neighbors over a child’s footsteps ended not with a bang, but with a handshake and the removal of a surveillance camera.
These two incidents represent more than just different legal outcomes; they reveal two fundamentally clashing philosophies of what it means to "police" a society.
The death of Renee Nicole Good is a textbook case of the "Warrior Culture" that has come to define American law enforcement. When federal agents approached Good during an immigration sweep, they were not just officers; they were a tactical unit equipped with high-caliber sidearms and a mindset trained for "kill-or-be-killed" scenarios.
In the U.S. model, policing is often viewed through the lens of tactical superiority. Every interaction is a potential lethal threat. Because the U.S. is a nation with more guns than people, officers are trained to escalate their presence to maintain "command of the scene." When Good tried to drive away, the ICE agent immediately fired at her. The result was a fatal application of lethal force—a standard response in a system where accountability is often shielded by "qualified immunity."
Contrast this with the case in Guangzhou’s Yuexiu District. For three weeks, two neighbors were locked in a spiraling feud over "floor-thumping" noise. Threats were made, "vibration devices" were purchased, and surveillance cameras were installed as defensive fortifications.
Enter Officer Peng Guangping. Unlike his American counterparts, Peng arrived unarmed. In China, the philosophy of street-level policing is rooted in social harmony, a concept that prioritizes the restoration of community peace over the rigid enforcement of the letter of the law.
Peng didn't look for a crime; he looked for a solution. He practiced "Double-Track" mediation:
He visited the complainant's workplace to negotiate a better sleep schedule for the stressed resident.
He convinced the family to rearrange their furniture to muffle noise.
He used persuasion rather than a badge to convince both parties to de-escalate.
Peng conducting "Double-Track" mediation with both sides present.
In this model, the officer is a social engineer. Because neither the citizens nor the officer is armed, the "threat level" of the encounter starts at zero and almost never rises. This case isn’t an anomaly: In 2024, the Beijing Road Police Station in Yuexiu, which Peng belongs to, resolved over 860 disputes using mediation and counseling tactics, boasting a 95% success rate.
One of the reasons Chinese officers rarely resort to violence is the absence of firearms in the hands of the public. Because Chinese officers do not expect a routine traffic stop or "wellness check" to turn into a gunfight, they do not approach interactions with the "ready-to-kill" posture often seen in US "warrior" training. Under the Regulations on the Carrying and Use of Firearms by People's Police, Chinese officers only carry firearms for specific violent crime tasks or high-risk arrests. In civil scenes—neighborhood brawls or family arguments—they are intentionally unarmed. For example, in Ningxia, northwest China, three officers spent six hours in "back-to-back" mediation to resolve a violent shouting match between a mother and her 15-year-old son, relying on psychological counseling rather than handcuffs.
So, if a Chinese police officer were placed in the same situation as the ICE agent, what would he/she have done instead?
The encounter would likely never have reached the point of a standoff. Chinese policing is rooted in the "Mass Line" (群众路线), which views the public as the source of police legitimacy rather than a hostile force to be subdued.
In China, Article 20 of the People's Police Law mandates that officers be "courteous and polite." Upon noticing a citizen filming or observing an operation, a Chinese officer’s first step would likely be a non-threatening inquiry. Instead of pulling a door handle (which triggered Good’s flight response), the officer would typically approach the window with a salute, state their business, and use "persuasive education" to explain why the area is restricted.
While the US agents viewed Good's "legal observation" as domestic terrorism, clearly out of paranoia, Chinese officers are trained to handle "on-the-spot observers" with a strategy of "cajoling" over "coercion."
Persuasion: An officer would likely say, "Comrade, for your safety and the progress of our work, please observe from behind this line."
Soft Control: If she refused to move, the response would be a "soft" physical barrier (multiple officers standing in front of the car) or calling a community leader/workplace superior to talk her down—a method known as "Small-Scale Mediation".
If Good had panicked and tried to drive away, a Chinese officer—typically unarmed in residential areas—would have followed a vastly different protocol:
Physical De-escalation: Rather than shooting, they are trained to use "shield and fork" tactics or simply allow the vehicle to leave while recording the license plate for a later "visit".
Tracker over Trigger: Because China has a near-total CCTV network, there is no tactical pressure to "stop the suspect now" with lethal force. The officer knows she can be found at her home later that evening for a quiet conversation or a citation.
"The Chinese officer’s goal is to 'avoid a scene'. In the American model, the goal is to 'finish the scene' (Ending the threat)."
In short, a Chinese officer could have de-escalated the tension because their training prioritizes social stability over tactical control. By treating Renee Good as a "neighbor in need of guidance" rather than a "terrorist in need of neutralization," the outcome would have shifted from a funeral to a conversation.
The emphasis on social stability and harmony is enshrined in national law, with the 'Combination of Punishment and Education' principle at its core.
The Legal Framework:
Administrative Punishment Law (Art. 5): Law enforcement must insist on combining punishment with education.
Administrative Compulsion Law (Art. 6): Education must be prioritized over coercion.
This isn't just theory; it is backed by massive data. By the end of 2025, Guangdong, the most populous province in China, processed over 2 million "first-offense warning" cases and 500,000 "minor offense—no penalty" cases. Similarly, Shanghai pioneered an "Exemption List" for 34 types of minor business violations. Instead of a fine, business owners sign a "Letter of Commitment" to rectify the issue—avoiding the "fine-and-forget" trap of traditional policing.
What makes education-over-coercion strategy work is the fact that Chinese society is deeply influenced by Confucian values emphasizing social harmony and respect for authority. Community-based policing (known as "Grid Management") involves officers who live and work closely with residents, focusing on dispute resolution and social mediation rather than aggressive enforcement.
The acceptance of massive network of CCTV cameras and AI-driven monitoring by the public also plays a part. While this is a significant civil liberties concern, it acts as a massive deterrent. Most crimes are prevented or solved through digital footprints rather than physical confrontations. In this model, the state exerts control through omniscience rather than physical force.
In addition, China utilizes structural innovations like the "Three-Office Linkage" (tri-party cooperation between police stations, judicial offices, and law firms). This integrates legal expertise into community disputes, a method recognized as a national "Fengqiao-style" model in 2023.
The divergence in policing philosophies between the US and China leads to starkly different social outcomes:
In Yibin, Sichuan, the adoption of flexible enforcement led to a 98.9% dispute resolution rate and a 7% drop in criminal cases in 2025. In Jiangxi, public satisfaction with law enforcement exceeded 95% following the implementation of "no-penalty" reforms.
In the U.S., the cost is measured in Years of Life Lost (YLL). Data from 2015-2016 showed that Black Americans lost 2.5 times more years of life to police violence than white Americans. The deaths of George Floyd and Renee Good have led to systemic social tearing and a collapse of trust in the Minneapolis Police Department, which a 2023 DOJ report found had systemic issues with racial discrimination.
Contrary to "police state" labels often applied to China, international metrics suggest a high level of government efficacy. The World Bank's Business Environment Report ranks China in the top tier for dispute resolution and infrastructure, with Shanghai reaching the global #1 spot in several governance categories.
If a "police state" is defined by the militarization of civil life and the routine use of lethal force against its own citizens, the cases of Renee Good and George Floyd suggest the U.S. is closer to that definition than its leaders care to admit.
While China’s model involves pervasive surveillance—a trade-off many in the West find unacceptable—it has successfully demonstrated that social order can be maintained without a high body count. The "silent sentinel" of Chinese policing suggests that the path to a safer society might not be through more firepower, but through the patient, unarmed art of mediation.
