Scott’s ‘National Plan’ Fails – What Next? | Interview with Wang Xiaoyi

Foodthink Says

On 19 July 2024, James C. Scott, professor of political science at Yale University, died. In the immediate aftermath, a wave of tribute articles emerged, revisiting his ideas on peasants and agriculture, everyday resistance, the state and society, and anarchism.

Beginning with his research into peasant resistance, Scott broadened his focus to wider themes, ultimately establishing himself as a thinker of broad influence. Foodthink contends that his scholarly trajectory underscores a distinctive value of peasant life and agrarian societies for the modern world—one that extends beyond the confines of these specific subjects.

Why has Scott garnered such attention in China? What is his most significant legacy for China’s intellectual community? And how might we apply his perspective to contemporary Chinese society?

To explore these questions, Foodthink spoke with Wang Xiaoyi, a researcher at the Institute of Sociology, Chinese Academy of Social Sciences. Wang is also the Chinese translator of two of Scott’s major works, Seeing Like a State and The Art of Not Being Governed. In 2007, Wang helped organise Scott’s first visit to China, the outcomes of which were compiled and published in Scott and the Chinese Countryside: Research and Dialogue.

● James C. Scott in the urban–rural fringe of Beijing, an ideal setting to illustrate his theories on grassroots spontaneity.

Foodthink Author

Wang Xiaoyi

Researcher at the Institute of Sociology, Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, and Director of the Research Centre for Rural Environment and Society. His primary research focus is rural sociology, with particular attention to rural poverty, the rural environment, and community development. He has authored and co-authored books such as A Poverty Survey of Twelve Chinese Villages, Grassland Communities Under Environmental Stress, and Climate Change and Social Adaptation: Research Based on Pastoral Areas in Inner Mongolia, among others. He has also translated and published Rural Social Change, Seeing Like a State, and The Art of Not Being Governed, and has published dozens of papers on rural environment, poverty alleviation, and related topics.

Foodthink: Following Scott’s passing, many scholars in China have seized the opportunity to pay tribute by re-examining his ideas, underscoring his considerable influence on the country’s intellectual landscape. Why has Scott attracted such sustained attention in China? Beyond academia, has his work exerted any more tangible influence on real-world practice and social development?

Wang Xiaoyi: I believe Scott’s reception in China can be divided into three phases. In the first phase, he was primarily recognised by Chinese academia as a significant contributor to peasant studies. As we know, after the Second World War, and particularly from the 1960s onwards, a group of Western scholars emerged who focused on the peasantry, examining peasant resistance alongside their economic, social, and cultural characteristics. In their view, peasant society differed fundamentally from other social strata; to understand guerrilla warfare in colonised nations, one had to understand the peasantry. Among these scholars, Scott’s concepts of the “moral economy of the peasant” and “weapons of the weak” undoubtedly became crucial for understanding peasant societies.

A central argument in *The Moral Economy of the Peasant* is that peasant resistance is not triggered merely by direct material loss, but by a sense of injustice. In other words, peasants operate according to their own standards of “what is just”; when these standards are violated, they resist. Underpinning this sense of justice is a moral economy of patronage and reciprocity, shaped by the peasantry’s precarious conditions of existence. In *Weapons of the Weak*, he examines the low-cost forms of resistance that peasants, as the disempowered, employ in their daily lives: passive sabotage, foot-dragging, gossip, and various forms of non-cooperation.

Scott’s recognition in China as a scholar of peasant studies likely stems from two key factors. First, in the 1980s, Qin Hui edited and compiled the *Peasant Studies Series*, which facilitated the translation of *The Moral Economy of the Peasant*. Second, Philip Huang’s *The Peasant Economy and Social Change in North China* provided a typological analysis of the peasant studies tradition, within which Scott’s theories were discussed.

Furthermore, the impact of Scott’s two major works on peasantry in China was likely tied directly to the realities of the time. China’s rural reforms demanded a re-evaluation of peasant society; peasants were no longer viewed merely as a backward class in need of transformation, but as a vital force driving China’s reforms. Meanwhile, by the 1990s, social conflicts in rural areas were increasingly drawing academic attention. Consequently, Scott’s terminology—concepts such as “subordinate groups”, “the weak”, and “hidden transcripts”—provided highly valuable analytical frameworks for understanding these contemporary conflicts.

It can be said that, during this period, Scott’s influence was largely confined to academia, particularly within the circles of peasant studies.

● James C. Scott’s two works on Southeast Asian peasant resistance: *The Moral Economy of the Peasant* and *Weapons of the Weak*.

Foodthink: Following those two titles, the next work by Scott to be published in China was *Seeing Like a State*. You translated it yourself, and it went on to become a bestseller in academic circles. Since then, Scott has become something of a ‘star’ here. What do you think accounts for such a strong resonance?

Wang Xiaoyi: The Chinese edition of *Seeing Like a State* was published in 2004. As we know, the book defies easy categorisation within any single discipline, and its influence has spilled over disciplinary boundaries into the wider intellectual sphere. I undertook the translation not for academic reasons, but because I felt a strong personal resonance while reading it. At the time, due to my work, I came into contact with large-scale projects and policies focused on rural development and ecological conservation, spearheaded by a mix of international organisations and government bodies. Engaging with these initiatives, I constantly sensed a vast gulf between their implementation and actual outcomes on the one hand, and their original design on the other. At times, the results were even counterproductive. So when a friend gifted me this book, I was immediately drawn to its subtitle: *How Attempts to Improve the Human Condition Have Failed*.

From what I observed, following the publication of the Chinese translation, the book’s initial impact was not felt among academic specialists, but rather among those engaged in social practice—development workers, and grassroots social organisations operating in rural areas. Later, it gradually garnered significant influence among younger students, policymakers, and scholars attentive to social realities.

I believe two central concepts in the book have been particularly influential. The first is failure. Acknowledging that many meticulously planned projects ultimately fail, and viewing humanity’s path to modernisation through the lens of failure—particularly in observing how humans, and especially the state, intervene in nature and society—represents a fresh analytical perspective. These failures are rarely mere accidents or the fault of a few individuals; rather, they stem from systemic flaws. Indeed, the more meticulously a project is designed, the more susceptible it becomes to failure.

The second question is why they fail. The root cause lies in the state’s tendency to replace existing complexity and diversity with simplified, legible social designs. Because such streamlined blueprints inevitably yield a host of unpredictable consequences, the greater the state’s capacity to intervene in nature and society, the higher the associated risks.

I believe the book offers readers less of a shock and more of a resonance. We have all witnessed similar phenomena unfold, yet we have often lacked a framework for systematic reflection. Consequently, many readers find themselves able to recount analogous experiences from their own lives, precisely because the book has catalysed such introspection.

Scott’s cross-disciplinary influence is directly tied to the widespread readership of *Seeing Like a State* in China. In the wake of its publication, his scholarly identity shifted: he was no longer viewed merely as an expert on peasantry, but as a critical intellectual interrogating the state and the project of modernisation. This marks the second phase of Scott’s reception in China.

●Covers of the Chinese and English editions of *Seeing Like a State: The Failure of High Modernist Schemes to Improve the Human Condition*.

Foodthink: Do you believe the ‘participatory development’ (participatory development) theory proposed by rural development initiatives at the time shares any connection with Scott?

Wang Xiaoyi: Around the time *Seeing Like a State* was published, development theory was also making its way into China, with participatory approaches adopted as a primary tool. The insistence within participatory development on involving local residents carries an underlying assumption that tacitly incorporates the concept of ‘local knowledge’. This bears a resemblance to ‘métis’ as discussed by Scott in *Seeing Like a State*. Nevertheless, I suspect there is little substantive link between the book and participatory development—at least, I have yet to see one. Their objectives and methodologies diverge: *Seeing Like a State* is intended to help us understand how projects go wrong and to illuminate the role of the modern state in development; whereas participatory development serves more as an instrument designed to increase the likelihood of project success. One aims to dissect failure, the other to engineer success. Though they may appear intrinsically connected, they in fact operate on two entirely separate logics.

Once introduced to China, participatory development was not without merit. On a micro level, it genuinely addressed certain developmental bottlenecks, yielded more rational project designs, heightened farmers’ willingness to engage, and facilitated the use of local knowledge. Yet concurrently, it also functioned as a convenient mechanism for outside experts to expedite data collection, finalise project designs, and draft polished evaluation reports. In retrospect, numerous participatory development initiatives ultimately proved unsuccessful. This stems from the fact that the inherent asymmetries in power, resources, and knowledge throughout the development process cannot be rectified by participation alone.

Foodthink: If state-directed schemes are flawed, and participatory methodologies also face practical hurdles, what then constitutes the correct approach? On this matter, does Scott offer any insights?

Wang Xiaoyi: The more I read Scott, the more I sense a profound helplessness in his work. While his analysis of how state-led large-scale social engineering projects fail is logically sound and highly convincing, he finds it difficult to offer more constructive solutions. He can only advise us to keep experimenting and remain vigilant against failure.

In The Art of Not Being Governed, his examination of pre-modern states vividly portrays the autonomy of highland communities, explaining with great persuasive power how they evaded state control. However, when his framework is applied to the modern state, his analysis loses clarity. He even draws a sharp historical break, emphasising that his arguments are intended only for pre-modern states.

Although Scott introduces the concept of mētis and stresses local knowledge, the recommendations he offers are neither explicit nor particularly robust. In fact, Elinor Ostrom, a proponent of decentralisation, frequently expressed similar views, arguing that there is no universal panacea for solving complex problems.

Of course, we might say that the diversity, endogeneity, and spontaneity they advocate are vital to addressing these issues, but they are certainly not the whole answer. Particularly as we witness the gradual waning of globalisation and the corresponding reinforcement of the nation-state, it is impossible to deny that the nation-state remains a crucial element in finding solutions. In this sense, Scott’s sense of helplessness is not merely a personal limitation but a collective predicament we all share.

● A typical ‘state-led project’: Over the past few decades, the state has rolled out ecological restoration initiatives—including grazing bans, seasonal pasture rest, and converting farmland back to grassland—to tackle the degradation of the northern grasslands. Yet, due to a range of factors, these schemes have not yielded the expected outcomes. Photo: Shu Ni

Foodthink: If we judge success purely by outcomes, state-driven initiatives have arguably been successful on many fronts, such as top-down poverty alleviation. But what happens as we move further along this path? To achieve healthy, sustainable development, do we not need to rely on “diversity”, enabling ordinary people to carve out their own livelihoods? The prevailing concern now is that certain policies and governance models could stifle this very diversity.

Wang Xiaoyi: In my view, answering this question requires less our personal judgement than a look back at history. History tends to move in cycles, and these cycles often play out between state planning and grassroots spontaneity. We need to observe not only the successes and failures of the state, but also those of bottom-up social initiatives. Often, both sides of an issue coexist. For instance, while spontaneity injects vitality into society, it also generates its own set of problems. When those problems accumulate over a period of time—threatening social order, equity, or rights—state intervention becomes necessary to correct the course. Conversely, when excessive state control drains society of its vitality, the emphasis naturally shifts back towards grassroots initiative.

If we look back at the history of rural governance since 1949, we can see a clear cyclical pattern of decentralisation and recentralisation of control. After 1949, peasants received land and their motivation to produce increased, but this was soon followed by new divisions in wealth and power. Subsequently, under the People’s Commune system, state authority penetrated deep into rural communities, placing farmers’ production and daily lives under strict control. With the onset of reform and opening-up, the state gradually relaxed its grip on rural society, yet new issues emerged, including widening wealth gaps, cadre corruption, and organised criminal groups. In this newer phase, the state has strengthened its management of rural areas. The endless form-filling, fragmented governance, and frequently criticised formalistic inspections and evaluations that people complain about today are all products of this trend. We also see that, from the establishment of mechanisms that tolerate mistakes, to reducing burdens on the grassroots and advocating for their empowerment, the prevailing inclination among policymakers is to grant local levels more room to manoeuvre and greater flexibility. I believe that society progresses incrementally through this winding process. Every policy adjustment has its underlying logic.

Secondly, we must recognise the trial-and-error nature of policy implementation. From my own experience, policies are generally drafted with room for adjustment. In the short term, we often see policies struggling to adapt, or even encountering significant problems during rollout. But over the longer term, we regularly observe policies being refined and improved. This refinement is, in essence, a process of learning through trial and error.

Foodthink: Returning then to Scott’s theories, what is the significance of critiquing state planning in the Chinese context? How important are grassroots wisdom and initiative?

Wang Xiaoyi: In my personal view, first, it is pointless to criticise Scott for failing to offer solutions to problems, as not every scholar is equipped to function as a think tank. Consider the renowned thinkers throughout history: how many actually provided practical remedies? Second, it is equally mistaken to simply accept Scott’s arguments at face value. When engaging with Scott’s work, we ought to adopt a dialectical perspective. While Scott criticises the state’s drive for legibility and simplification, he is himself, to some degree, susceptible to the same tendencies. As his close friend Edward Friedman once observed, *The Art of Not Being Governed* may present an overly simplistic historical account of Southeast Asia’s highlands. Yet Scott has cultivated such widespread influence in China that, in a sense, he has nearly become a bestselling author within academia. The significance of this phenomenon lies in the following:

First, Scott’s interpretations consistently offer readers a fresh perspective, deeply inspiring them to see that an issue can be understood in such a novel way. For example, in *Seeing Like a State*, he classifies crops as “proletarian” and “petty-bourgeois”: the former denotes storable grain, while the latter refers to delicate fruit. In *The Art of Not Being Governed*, he divides crops into “state crops” and “crops of evasion”. The former is rice, which grows on the surface, ripens simultaneously, and is easily taxed by the state. The latter, such as cassava, is buried underground, can be left unharvested for extended periods, and is therefore difficult for the state to appropriate. Likewise, his examination of highland inhabitants evading lowland states, and the state’s attempt to capture those who flee, goes beyond merely discussing historical phenomena; it seeks to propose new interpretations of the state and power. All these viewpoints are profoundly enlightening.

● The concept of “state crops” introduced by Scott in *The Art of Not Being Governed* was later expanded in *Against the Grain* into a systematic account of the historical origins of both the state and agriculture.

Secondly, his work also encourages readers to maintain a healthy scepticism towards human rationality, state planning, and the modernisation process. It underscores that human reason and state power are not omnipotent; while they may deliver surface-level prosperity and development, they can also sow the seeds of latent problems. If people and governments alike approach these forces with prudence, mistakes may still be made, but they are likely to be less severe and easier to correct once they surface. Thirdly, I believe that Scott’s analysis bolsters our confidence in the adaptive resilience of grassroots society. Large-scale planning projects frequently face initial hurdles, yet when we look back after a decade, two, or even longer, it becomes clear that society has adapted and developed new ways of functioning.

Consider ecological resettlement schemes. When first implemented, they often encounter numerous challenges, ranging from a lack of livelihood opportunities for the relocated to difficulties in adjusting to the local environment. Yet, after several years, we find that the demographic makeup of these resettlement areas has shifted: those who struggled to adapt have often sold their new homes, while newcomers have arrived with their own coping strategies. The resettlement programme itself has not failed, but the communities are no longer structured exactly as originally planned. Instead, through adaptive evolution, residents have established a mode of living quite distinct from the initial blueprint. While leaving room for adaptive change within planning can ease the transition, even without such deliberate flexibility, space for adaptation will organically emerge over time. We should therefore maintain strong confidence in society’s capacity for spontaneous adaptation.

Finally, Scott’s method of class analysis is something we too often overlook. In practice, we frequently miss his insistence on class distinctions. The “weapons of the weak” are not the weapons of the peasantry as a whole, for among peasants there are both the vulnerable and the powerful; these “weapons” belong specifically to those at the very bottom of the social hierarchy. Likewise, evasion of the state is not a universal response. It is predominantly practised by those at the lower rungs who are conscripted to provide the state with material goods and manpower. Without class analysis, a bottom-up perspective is lost, and many issues become blurred. Take our frequent references to “peasants” or “smallholders,” for instance: we often intentionally or unintentionally treat them as a monolithic bloc. In today’s rural landscape, farmers harbour differing interests, and smallholders are by no means universally powerless. Whenever we engage with Scott’s work, or draw on his perspective to examine society, we must be diligent not to neglect class analysis.

Foodthink: Scott has visited China twice, first in 2007 and again in 2012. You were involved in organising the first visit. What was it like at the time?

Wang Xiaoyi: I have met with him twice in Beijing. On the first occasion, it was I who invited him over. During that visit, he took part in a seminar at the Institute of Sociology and delivered lectures at both the Minzu University of China and Tsinghua University. The seminar at the Institute of Sociology differed somewhat from standard academic talks. Professor Qu Jingdong and I co-organised it, and we deliberately avoided asking him to present his own research. His major works already had a wide readership in China, and scholars had since produced distinctive studies drawing on his frameworks—most notably research on “weapons of the weak”. Instead, we tried a different approach. We invited several scholars to apply Scott’s concepts and analytical frameworks to examine contemporary Chinese social phenomena, after which Scott himself would offer his reflections and critique. The proceedings were later published as *Scott and the Chinese Countryside*. It was certainly an engaging experiment. Whether it succeeded is a matter for readers to judge from the volume itself.

Scott’s lectures at both the Minzu University of China and Tsinghua University are also included in *Scott and the Chinese Countryside*. His talk at Minzu University, titled “Why Civilisation Struggles to Climb the Mountain”, covered the core themes of *The Art of Not Being Governed*, which he was drafting at the time. The auditorium was absolutely packed—literally “standing room only”, with listeners filling even the aisles. As Scott himself put it, he felt like a celebrity. At Tsinghua, his focus was primarily on *Seeing Like a State*.

On his second visit to China in 2012, he was invited by Professor Ye Jingzhong of China Agricultural University to deliver a talk as part of the “Agrarian Governance Lecture Series”. During that trip, I also took him to Picun, a village near Beijing, to visit the Museum of Migrant Worker Art and Culture.

● *Scott and the Chinese Countryside*, which also includes Wang Xiaoyi’s essay “Herders and the State under Ecological Pressure”. In the edited volume *Grassland Communities under Environmental Pressure*, Wang Xiaoyi uses six specific case studies of grassland communities to engage with and echo Scott’s theories on “state control” and “the weapons of the weak”. Scott’s lecture transcript from Tsinghua University can also be found in this republication by Foodthink.

Foodthink: From your interactions with Scott, what kind of person did you find him to be?

Wang Xiaoyi: My interactions with him weren’t particularly deep; I only met him face-to-face on these two occasions. Nevertheless, I found him to be a remarkably pure scholar. By ‘pure’, I mean his attention was entirely focused on the academic questions he was exploring. His research wasn’t aimed at providing policymakers or society with practical solutions; in other words, he wasn’t a think-tank scholar. Nor was he a professional writer by trade; part of his research funding for his work in Myanmar actually came from advance payments for his books. Scott once remarked that his hobby was writing books, which likely captures his essence accurately. As an American intellectual, his political leanings would occasionally surface, such as his dissatisfaction with Trump. He even once joked with me, asking if I knew anyone at the Beijing Zoo who could put Trump in a cage for public display.

Foodthink: Then, how did Scott view China?

Wang Xiaoyi: I didn’t discuss China with him extensively, but I believe he was genuinely interested in it. He once mentioned that if China had allowed him to conduct fieldwork in the 1970s, he wouldn’t have gone to Indonesia for his research; he would have chosen China as his field site. He had also considered including China’s Great Leap Forward in *Seeing Like a State*, but that line of research ultimately went unfinished. Secondly, he should have had some understanding of China, given that his close friend Edward Friedman is a specialist in Chinese rural studies. He himself has noted that through Friedman, he gained insight into the Chinese countryside. Furthermore, he likely interacted with numerous Chinese scholars and students to varying degrees, so he must have known something about China, though I can’t say how profound that understanding was. From my own observations, he was quite conscious of his impact in China. Particularly after the publication of *Seeing Like a State*, he felt the enthusiasm of China’s academic community, which is why he invited me to translate *The Art of Not Being Governed* into Chinese before it was officially published. But for the lengthy publication process, the Chinese edition might well have been the first foreign-language version to appear, though the process encountered a few delays. Throughout this, he frequently inquired about the progress of the Chinese edition.

Now, Scott’s influence in China has entered a third phase. He is no longer seen merely as an expert on peasant studies or a cross-disciplinary scholar; his books have become academic bestsellers. If I recall correctly, Chinese translations of his last few new books have appeared almost immediately after their English editions, and some of his earlier works have also been translated and published. I’ve heard that his final work, written before his passing (In Praise of Floods: The Stake of All Creatures in the River’s Freedom), focuses on the floods of the Irrawaddy River. It is reportedly scheduled for publication in 2025, and I suspect domestic publishers are already preparing for it. We also look forward to seeing the book finally brought to completion.

● In 2007, James Scott attended a seminar at the Institute of Sociology, Chinese Academy of Social Sciences.

● In 2007, James Scott delivered a lecture titled ‘Why Civilisation Struggles to Climb the Mountain’ at Minzu University of China, with moderator Professor Wang Mingming standing beside him.

Unless otherwise stated, photographs were provided by the interviewee.

Interviewers: Tianle, Wang Hao

Editor: Wang Hao

Published by Foodthink