Countless people circle around, only to end up with nothing

In China, whether it is the regime or companies, they share a structural characteristic: they do not believe in permanent property.

Property rights, power, institutions, and discursive authority all exist in a state of being reclaimable. Superficially, this flexibility is packaged as an "institutional advantage"; but in essence, it destroys any possibility of long-term accumulation. Without permanent property, there is no constancy. Without constancy, there is no future.

"Permanent property" is not merely land or housing, but the institution's recognition of individual accumulation. It means labor results can be inherited, rules can be expected, and order can be trusted. A society that does not guarantee this will not produce true rationality. People will not believe in plans, nor will they believe in rules; they will only believe in power itself, because that is the only thing that cannot be overthrown.

In this environment, regimes and enterprises converge in logic: both take control as the core, uncertainty as the weapon. Stability is seen as dangerous, because stability defines boundaries; boundaries mean limits on power.

Therefore, in all organizations in China, practitioners with principles, plans, and beliefs often cannot survive. They believe in construction, but the system depends on destruction. They accumulate trust, but the institution demands obedience. Ultimately, those who survive are those who can adapt to disorder, who can transform chaos into power. In other words, China's success does not come from the efficiency of order, but from skilled manipulation of uncertainty.

The saying "those with permanent property have constancy" is reversed in China into a political taboo. The regime needs citizens without permanent property, companies need employees without permanent property. Once ownership stabilizes, it gives rise to independent judgment, and independent judgment is the enemy of collective power. Thus property rights are blurred, credit is suppressed, and security is replaced with loyalty. The less permanent property a person has, the more they depend on the system.

From the perspective of rule, this is undoubtedly efficient; from the perspective of civilization, it means irreversible decline.

When society loses the institutional foundation of permanent property, it also loses the openness of time. Because no future can be trusted. Enterprises dare not make long-term investments, families dare not have children, individuals dare not plan their lives. Every decision is shortened to the present. Today's order only yields to tomorrow's power.

This is locked time: everyone is busy maintaining survival, but no one believes tomorrow will be better.

In such a nation, permanent property is a dangerous ideal. It symbolizes stability, order, and self-continuity, and these three things are all seen as potential threats. The regime needs mobilized masses, not people with roots. Companies need obedient employees, not independent partners. Thus, social development becomes a cycle: constant construction, constant destruction, constant restart. Each generation starts from zero, each generation loses the future.

China's problem is not a lack of wisdom or diligence, but its institutional rejection of "permanent property." It fears order truly taking root, fears the future existing independently of power.

Thus it has created a closed temporal structure—the past is rewritten, the future is canceled, only the present is allowed to exist.

This is the landless nation: a place that can never stop, yet can never go far.