What’s happening on RedNote? A media expert explains which app TikTok users are fleeing to – and the cultural moment happening there

Refugees from TikTok fled by the millions to RedNote, a Chinese app, in response to the TikTok ban, which took effect on January 19, 2025. The company shut down the app shortly before midnight on January 18, but restored service the next day. The app was not available for download on the Apple and Google app stores on January 19.

Through cat memes, shared jokes about the ban, and honest conversations about topics usually avoided, former native TikTokers and RedNote are bridging years of digital separation between the United States and China. This spontaneous convergence recalls the Internet’s original dream of a global village. It is a beacon of hope for connection and communication in a divided world.

I am a researcher studying Chinese and transnational digital media. I am also a Chinese living in the United States. I have been using RedNote since 2014.

On Tuesday morning, January 14, 2025, my usual RedNote morning scroll revealed a transformed For You page. Adding to my typical TV series, celebrity and makeup content were new posts from self-described “TikTok refugees” with American IP addresses. As I continued to scroll, the recommendation algorithm flooded my feed with more and more messages from new American users looking to rebuild their community on RedNote.

Rapid influx

The phenomenon exploded quickly: in 24 hours, the hashtag #TikTok Refugee# on RedNote had garnered 36.2 million views and sparked millions of discussions. RedNote is at the top of the free apps rankings in the Apple App Store.

According to these TikTok refugees, as the January 19, 2025 ban approached, users feared losing not only their access to the platform, but also their content and sources of income.

Rather than turning to US-based alternatives like Instagram or Meta’s X, they chose to flee to another Chinese platform to protest US tech giants, whom they accused of lobbying for the ban. Their platform of choice was RedNote.

This unexpected change largely comes from TikTok influencers like @whattheish recommending RedNote as the new TikTok. Given that the Douyin app is China’s version of TikTok, the exodus to RedNote may seem surprising. However, most other Chinese apps, including Douyin, are only available in Chinese app stores and require a Chinese phone number to register. RedNote is only accessible to users outside of China through app stores in various regions, without requiring a Chinese phone number.

Instead of separating users by geographic regions with different versions as TikTok’s parent company ByteDance Ltd. has done, RedNote — called Xiaohongshu in Chinese — provides access to the same platform globally. ByteDance is based in China but launched TikTok as a US subsidiary in 2015. TikTok partnered with Oracle in 2022 to manage US user data to address data security concerns. In contrast, Xingyin Information Technology Ltd., owner of RedNote, is a Shanghai-based company and therefore remains shielded from direct U.S. surveillance.

The overall accessibility of RedNote

This global accessibility matches Xiaohongshu’s original vision. The name Little Red Book – its literal translation into English – often leads Westerners to draw parallels with Mao’s revolutionary text, suggesting a communist orientation. Yet the platform’s true aspirations couldn’t be more different.

The application, created in 2013, emerged with a rather bourgeois orientation. The app’s founders, Qu Fang and Mao Wenchao, met while shopping in the United States. They positioned Xiaohongshu as a platform combining social media, lifestyle content and e-commerce, all focused on global travel and shopping.

Although RedNote has evolved to appeal to a broader demographic, its core user base remains international students, overseas Chinese communities, and international travelers. Its name shows the platform’s promise to be a “red” guide – meaning popular in Chinese – for overseas travel and shopping. It functions as both a travel bible for Chinese tourists and a fashion curator of glamorous foreign lifestyles.

The app has been instrumental in transforming lesser-known places into Chinese tourist destinations. He made Dusseldorf, Germany, a foodie destination for Chinese tourists in 2023 and highlighted Paris’ hipster scenes and public toilets during the 2024 Olympics.

For me, as an ethnic Chinese living abroad, RedNote has become an essential daily platform for searching for opinions, sharing life moments, and staying connected with Chinese communities. Even before TikTok’s influx of refugees, Xiaohongshu had attracted users from Taiwan, Singapore, Malaysia and other Chinese-speaking communities.

From memes to open dialogue

I nervously lurked in the chat sections, watching for potential friction and conflict between TikTok refugees and RedNote natives, or “red sweet potatoes” as they call themselves. However, the first meetings were surprisingly warm and fun.

Following word-of-mouth advice, newcomers to TikTok posted photos of cats as their first action after opening new accounts. They jokingly call it paying their cat tax. Chinese RedNote users responded with compliments or by sharing their own cat photos in return. This is how they broke the ice despite language and cultural barriers.

When TikTok refugees posted pet-free presentations, RedNote users responded with a meme: a cat holding a gun with the caption “Hello, I’m a spy.” Show me your cat. This joke quickly caught on. “Chinese spy” quickly became another way of saying “Chinese friend.” TikTok refugees even asked, “Do you want to be my Chinese spy?” as a fun conversation starter.

Through cute memes and witty jokes, both groups ridiculed the TikTok ban. They mocked how the ban turns data privacy concerns into outdated tales of Cold War rivalry and espionage, rather than treating them as common challenges in the digital age facing all humans. are confronted together.

After these greetings, RedNote natives and TikTok refugees often exchanged questions on various topics. Some of these topics worried me because they could easily interrupt the conversation. For example, a TikTok refugee asked about LGBTQ life in China, and a RedNote native asked about American income.

But instead of creating awkward tension as I feared, these exchanges led to meaningful dialogue. Chinese users explained their questions about U.S. income: They were curious because Chinese “American dreamers” – Chinese people who talk about moving to the United States – often paint an exaggerated picture of American wages and living standards. Americans were surprised to learn that although same-sex marriage remains illegal in China, the city of Chengdu is known as the country’s “gay capital.”

Recalling the lost promise of the Internet

As I documented these interactions, they continued to grow and evolve. What started as text chats expanded to live conversations. This rare moment of direct interaction between American and Chinese social media users reveals that they are not as different as they might have thought. Online, they shared the same interests: cute memes, “thirst traps” and funny comments. Offline, they face similar daily struggles to make ends meet.

How could this end? Will TikTok refugees leave once their enthusiasm wears off, or will regulators on both sides step in? As someone who has studied media exchanges between the United States and China for years, I am struck by the importance of this moment, however temporary it may be. This represents a significant reconnection between American and Chinese internet users after years of digital separation.

This separation was provoked and reinforced by Google’s withdrawal from China, China’s Great Firewall, and the United States’ forced segregation of ByteDance’s American and Chinese platforms. Additionally, digital platforms and recommendation algorithms increasingly lock people into their own information bubbles.

For me, this moment recalls the utopian vision once shared by Californian Internet pioneers and Chinese innovators and technology users: a digital agora and a global village.

It is also a glimmer of hope in the cloud of global divisions. Even in a world increasingly fractured by platforms, misinformation and political divisions, unexpected connections can still flourish. Seemingly impossible linguistic, cultural and digital divides can be overcome when people approach each other with respect, sincerity, a touch of humor – and perhaps with the help of AI translators.