China Bans Six Types of Side Work for Civil Servants, Issuing First Concrete Anti‑Corruption Rules】

The six banned pursuits are described in the official wording as “违规行为” – violations that undermine a cadre’s impartiality or divert public resources for private gain. They are:

1. “挂证取酬” – receiving payment for a professional title or qualification without actually performing the work, often called “ghost positions.”

2. 借“理财”名义违规圈钱 – illegally raising funds under the guise of wealth‑management services.

3. 违规从事有偿中介活动 – engaging in paid intermediary work that is not authorised.

4. 违规兼职 – holding concurrent jobs that conflict with one’s official duties.

5. 揽私活 – taking on private assignments, such as freelance projects, for personal profit.

6. 其他违反规定的营利行为 – any other profit‑making activities that run afoul of party or civil‑service regulations.

The language of the announcement links the new prohibitions directly to the “Regulations on Disciplinary Actions of the Communist Party of China” and the “Regulations on Disciplinary Actions for Public Officials.” In practice, this means that violations can trigger party disciplinary measures, administrative penalties, or even criminal prosecution, depending on the severity of the breach.

The timing of the clarification is significant. While the CCDI’s anti‑corruption campaigns have been a fixture of Chinese governance since Xi Jinping took power in 2012, the rules surrounding side jobs have remained nebulous, leaving many cadres unsure of what was permissible. Recent high‑profile cases – such as a county official who was found to be “hanging” his engineering licence for a consulting fee, and a provincial administrator who allegedly raised money through a sham wealth‑management scheme – have underscored the need for a definitive list.

Industry observers say the move will reverberate through a number of sectors. Consulting firms, legal and accounting boutiques, and middle‑man service providers have long relied on the informal expertise of civil servants who could, for a fee, navigate bureaucratic procedures or lend their official titles to private projects. With the new ban, those channels are expected to dry up, forcing firms to turn to fully independent expertise or to restructure their client‑service models. Some analysts also note that the directive could accelerate the professionalisation of China’s private sector, as the “shadow” influence of public officials in business arrangements becomes harder to access.

For ordinary citizens, the policy is presented as a bid to restore faith in the public service. By curbing conflicts of interest and eliminating the “red lines” that have traditionally been crossed for personal enrichment, the government hopes to convey a message that officials must devote their full attention to public duties. Social media reactions on Weibo echo this sentiment: many users praised the clarity, pointing out that the six categories now spell out precisely where the “red line” lies. Others, however, voiced concern over the practical impact on low‑paid officials in smaller municipalities who have historically relied on modest side earnings to supplement meagre salaries. The public debate has also highlighted a nuanced understanding of what remains permissible. Official media outlets, such as the Southern Daily (南方日报) and Shaanxi Net (陕西网), have circulated examples of allowed activities—physical labour, writing for publication fees, running a personal media channel, offering professional‑skill services, fitness coaching, or even small‑scale agricultural production—provided the work is reported and approved by the relevant supervisory unit.

The conversation around “self‑media” and gig‑economy jobs such as driving for Didi or delivering food on platforms like Meituan is especially lively. While these pursuits are not outright banned, experts stress that they require prior written consent from a civil servant’s department to avoid being classified as illegal part‑time work. The requirement reflects a broader principle in the new guidance: any extra‑income activity must be transparent, compartmentalised from official responsibilities, and free of any influence that could be construed as leveraging public office for private profit.

Politically, the crackdown reinforces the CCDI’s role as the Party’s chief watchdog and signals a continuation of Xi’s broader effort to tighten discipline within the bureaucracy. By codifying the prohibitions, the Party signals that ethical compliance is not optional but an integral component of loyalty. The move also dovetails with recent reforms to the “two‑office” system that merges the Party’s disciplinary mechanisms with the state’s supervisory apparatus, creating a more streamlined, punitive framework for violations. Critics of the Party’s approach argue that the heightened scrutiny may stifle legitimate entrepreneurial spirit among officials, but supporters counter that the benefits of a cleaner, more predictable administrative environment outweigh such concerns.

In the months ahead, compliance will be the watchword. Government departments are already drafting internal checklists, and many local supervisory commissions have announced intensified audits of cadre income statements. For those officials who have built side businesses around consulting, investment, or intermediary services, the new order could mean divestiture, re‑licensing or outright closure. Meanwhile, private firms that have depended on the “old‑school” access offered by friendly officials will need to adapt to a market where merit and transparency, rather than personal connections, become the primary currency.

The social media discourse underscores how the public is processing these changes. Threads on Weibo frequently feature users sharing screenshots of the official document, parsing each prohibited category, and debating real‑world examples that might fall into a grey area. A recurring theme is the notion of “red lines” (红线) – an idiom that captures the Party’s intent to draw an unmistakable boundary that all cadres must respect. Users also exchange tips on how to apply for the required approvals for permissible side work, reflecting a pragmatic approach rather than outright resistance.

Whether the new restrictions will achieve their stated goal of reducing corruption remains to be seen. Past anti‑corruption drives have shown that tightening rules can lead to a temporary dip in overt misconduct, but entrenched networks often find ways to adapt. What is clear, however, is that the CCDI and NSC are no longer content with vague admonitions; they are now delivering a concrete, enforceable framework that leaves little room for interpretation. For China’s civil service, the message is unmistakable: public duties come first, and any pursuit of private profit must be fully transparent, officially sanctioned, and strictly limited to activities that do not compromise the integrity of the state.