Trump and Xi met, and there was the usual avalanche of headlines about US-China rivalry: can the world’s two largest powers manage their competition responsibly, or are they destined to tumble into the so-called “Thucydides Trap” – where a rising power inevitably collides with an established one? Yet, the relationship between Washington and Beijing is far more layered. Beneath diplomatic theatrics lies a deeper civilisational contrast – in how the two nations think, govern and build.
In Breakneck: China’s Quest to Engineer the Future , Dan Wang offers an elegantly simple argument to understand this divide – China is run by engineers, while America is run by lawyers. One side is obsessed with building, the other with regulating. China sees every challenge as a construction problem waiting to be solved with more factories, railways , housing and infrastructure. US, meanwhile, instinctively approaches problems through rules, litigation, oversight, and compliance.
This contrast is visible even in political leadership. China’s top brass is packed with technocrats and engineers. Xi Jinping himself studied chemical engineering. The Chinese state therefore tends to think in linear, technical terms: identify a target, mobilise resources, and execute at speed. America’s leadership class, by contrast, is overwhelmingly shaped by the legal profession. From Abraham Lincoln to Joe Biden, 28 of 45 US presidents have had legal backgrounds. Naturally, the American instinct is less about bulldozers and blueprints, and more about lawsuits, environmental clearances, public hearings and procedural safeguards.
Consequences are starkly visible in infrastructure. In 2008, both countries embarked on ambitious high-speed rail projects. China launched the Beijing-Shanghai line, while US approved a rail corridor linking San Francisco and Los Angeles. China opened the line in 2011 at a cost of roughly $36bn. America, meanwhile, remains trapped in paperwork and delays. Seventeen years after approval, only a modest stretch has been built, costs have exploded to nearly $128bn, and operations are now expected no earlier than 2033.
Yet Wang cautions against romanticising China’s model. Beneath the gleaming skyscrapers and futuristic train stations, lies a brittle reality. Much of China’s infrastructure is overbuilt and underused. Ghost cities, debt-ridden provinces, and rampant local corruption expose the darker side of compulsive construction. Social welfare remains weak, healthcare uneven, and education outside major cities inadequate. During Covid, the contrast became stark. US pumped thousands of dollars directly into households through stimulus payments, while China offered only limited unemployment support that reached a tiny fraction of workers.
Ironically, Wang argues, China’s leadership often behaves less like revolutionaries, and more like conservatives disguised in Leftist clothing. The disastrous One Child policy, for example, was designed not by sociologists or philosophers, but by missile scientist Song Jian, whose rigid engineering logic produced one of the greatest demographic crises of modern times. Even today, Beijing’s response remains mechanical, with Xi urging women to return home and have more children, as though population decline can simply be recalibrated like a machine.
Still, China’s relentless construction drive gives its people a sense of momentum and national purpose. America, despite its innovation and freedoms, increasingly struggles to build with confidence or speed. Perhaps the lesson for both nations is clear. US needs to rediscover its lost appetite for grand projects and physical ambition. China, meanwhile, must learn that societies cannot thrive on concrete and steel alone.
