A string of prominent sanitary pad brands in China have become embroiled in a scandal about the quality of their products. The controversy began in early November when consumers complained that that the advertised lengths of many sanitary pads were misleading.
Then, a few days later, customers discovered that many pads had pH levels similar to textiles such as curtains and tablecloths that do not come into frequent contact with skin, potentially causing irritation or harm to users.
The anger only intensified when ABC, one of the companies at the centre of the controversy, responded dismissively to concerned consumers. ABC emphasised that it was complying with national standards, and reportedly replied to a complaint with: “If you cannot accept it, then you can choose not to buy it”.
Chinese companies have since apologised for their sub-par products, and ABC has even said that it was “deeply sorry” for its “inappropriate” response. But for many women in China, this scandal is about more than just defective products. It is part of a troubling pattern in which women’s health and dignity is blatantly disregarded.
In 2022, Chinese women took to social media to advocate for sanitary pads to be sold on trains. Their demands were swiftly dismissed, with China Railway saying sanitary pads were “private items” that women should prepare for themselves in advance.
Some people on the internet echoed this sentiment, arguing that it was inappropriate and unhygienic to sell sanitary pads on trains. “You don’t want sanitary pads sold alongside food, do you?”, one wrote.
Remarks like this laid bare not only the stigma surrounding menstrual blood in China, where it is seen as polluting and shameful, but also the widespread ignorance among men about menstruation. This was again highlighted by one social media user who questioned absurdly: “Why can’t women just hold it in?” The recent scandal over poor quality sanitary pads is yet another chapter in this story.
The neglect of women’s basic needs in China has worsened with the government’s push for higher birth rates. China’s ruling Communist party began actively promoting higher birth rates in the mid-2010s after decades of limiting most families to one child. The push is driven primarily by the state’s concerns over an ageing population and a shrinking labour force.
This pro-natalist agenda, which has been bolstered by media campaigns urging women to prioritise marriage and motherhood, has pressured many to sacrifice their education and careers. In anticipation of having to provide paid maternity leave, employers also often discriminate in the processes of hiring and promotions.
Meanwhile, feminist advocacy faces censorship and suppression. This has included the shutdown of influential media platforms like Feminist Voices and the blocking of #MeToo-related hashtags. Activists have resorted to creative methods, such as using symbols like the “Rice Bunny” (a term that is pronounced “mi tu” in Chinese) emoji, to navigate strict surveillance and content filtering that targets discussions on gender equality.
Women in China are now rallying for higher standards in the production and regulation of sanitary products. They are actively submitting comments via the government’s online platform for the public to provide feedback to standard setting officials.
On November 22, a representative from the organisation responsible for drafting the new standards stated that public feedback had been heard and will be considered in the process. However, this response is far from satisfactory. The same companies that produce sanitary pads in China are heavily involved in setting these standards.
Women’s active involvement in shaping the revision of national standards is reflective of a consistent strategy in which they use government-provided channels for political participation. Yet women in China have now also started to link the issue of low-quality sanitary products to broader societal challenges, including falling fertility rates.
In the 1970s, when China first implemented its one-child policy, over six children were born for every woman of childbearing age. This had dropped to an average of one-and-a-half by the 2000s. At the same time, there is a growing prevalence of infertility in China. A 2021 study published in The Lancet, a peer-reviewed medical journal, shows that China’s infertility rate rose from 12% in 2007 to 18% in 2020. One in every 5.6 Chinese couples of childbearing age faces challenges in conceiving a baby.
Throughout the recent sanitary pad scandal, hashtags such as #LowQualitySanitaryPadsCauseFemaleIntertility have spread across Chinese social media platforms such as Weibo. By aligning their grievances with national anxieties, feminist activists in China are strategically reframing their demands to align with state priorities.
Such an approach may, on the one hand, risk unintentionally reinforcing existing stereotypes about women and societal expectations. But it may also increase the likelihood of their concerns being addressed, as it presents better sanitary product standards as a critical public health and national concern rather than a “women’s issue” that can simply be dismissed.
Feminist activism in China looks to be growing in maturity. Narratives and strategies are now being carefully crafted to ensure maximum impact both in public and policy arenas.
Chi Zhang does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
