From Sea Bans to Silicon Chips: The High Cost of Isolation and the Power of an Open Society
By Carl J Chan
History is a mirror. When we examine the long arc of China and Japan’s historical experiments with isolationism, and contrast them with the benefits of openness, one truth becomes clear: an open society is the engine of national progress, while closed systems inevitably fall behind.
The Ghost of Isolation: China’s Sea Ban
In the early Ming dynasty, the Chinese empire once boasted the most advanced naval fleet in the world. Admiral Zheng He’s massive treasure ships traveled as far as East Africa in the 15th century. But rather than build on this momentum, China turned inward. The infamous “Haijin” (sea ban) policy banned private maritime trade and contact with the outside world. The reasoning was political: to consolidate internal control and ward off foreign “corruption.”
The consequences were devastating. While Europe surged into the Age of Discovery and industrial revolution, China’s knowledge of the world atrophied. Its isolation became a slow suicide. By the time Western powers arrived on China’s doorstep in the 19th century, the empire was technologically backward, politically stagnant, and vulnerable. The Opium Wars, foreign concessions, and internal rebellion were the inevitable price of sealing off the outside world.
Japan’s Two Experiments: Isolation and Opening
Japan’s history offers a powerful parallel. After borrowing heavily from Chinese civilization in the early centuries AD—including its writing system, Buddhism, and statecraft—Japan too turned inward. From 1633 to the mid-19th century, the Tokugawa Shogunate enforced “Sakoku”, a near-total isolation policy. Foreigners were banned, trade was severely restricted, and cultural exchange ceased.
But unlike Qing China, Japan recognized the danger in time. When U.S. Commodore Perry forced open Japan’s ports in 1853, it triggered a national awakening. The Meiji Restoration (1868) dismantled feudalism, embraced Western science and industry, and created one of the most rapid modernizations in human history. In a few decades, Japan transformed from a closed samurai society into a world power capable of defeating imperial Russia in 1905.
The Modern Irony: Authoritarian Openness
Today, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) presents a paradox. On one hand, the regime maintains strict internal control—censorship, surveillance, ideological policing. On the other, it aggressively seeks global engagement to expand its influence and technological power. Programs like the “Thousand Talents Plan” actively recruit foreign scientists, including recently a former Harvard chemistry chair. China’s trade outreach to the Global South, such as offering tariff-free access to 53 countries in the BRICS bloc, signals calculated openness—but only where it strengthens the Party’s geopolitical leverage.
This “strategic openness” differs fundamentally from the concept of an open society. The latter is not just about cross-border trade or international science exchanges. It is about freedom of thought, speech, mobility, and criticism—the conditions that allow ideas to flow, technologies to flourish, and mistakes to be corrected.
The Open Society as a Civilizational Advantage
When openness is genuine—when it includes political transparency, academic freedom, and uncensored dialogue—it becomes a civilizational multiplier. Western democracies, for all their dysfunctions, owe their continued innovation and resilience to this openness. A free society allows criticism, which in turn allows course correction. An open society attracts global talent because it does not fear different views. It becomes not just a place of refuge, but of rebirth.
The authoritarian approach to “openness” often lacks this depth. It seeks resources without reciprocity, knowledge without debate, and prestige without pluralism. History teaches us that such selective openness is brittle. It creates tensions between appearance and reality—and eventually, reality wins.
Conclusion: The Road Ahead
China’s past mistakes during its sea ban era are not just academic history—they are warnings. Japan’s radical success after abandoning isolation is not just a national story—it is a universal lesson. Societies that wall themselves off from the world eventually wall themselves off from the future.
Today, as authoritarian regimes try to mimic the outward appearance of openness while retaining inward control, the free world must remember why true openness matters. Not because it is morally superior, but because it works. It fosters progress, builds trust, and ultimately secures peace.
An open society is not a luxury. It is a necessity for any civilization that wants to thrive—not just survive.