When I checked on January 12th, 2026, the Substack Tenchnology has been deleted.
The collapse of legacy media, rise of solo journalism, and shrinking newsroom budgets have prompted companies to build their own platforms and speak directly to their audiences. Enter: the corporate Substack.
I’ve been thinking a lot about how Substack is changing the game for corporate communications. Whether it’s The RealReal channeling Gossip Girl nostalgia, Polymarket delivering newsy data-driven updates, or A16Z getting it right with Speedrun, companies are leaning into content and storytelling and reaching their audience directly.
With a built-in audience, room for long-form content, and a social feedback loop, Substack is the new Wild West, where companies can plant their flag and control their own narrative.
Last week, however, I came across Exhibit A of how NOT to Substack.
Tenchnology came through on my feed, and I started reading. Did not take long for me to realize that this was likely coming straight from Tencent HQ.
Bill Bishop, the widely respected China observer and writer of Sinocism, was more direct than I. A day later, he asked pointedly:
“Hello Tenchnology, are you affiliated with Tencent? If so you really should disclose that here, can’t find any mention of it in your Substack presence.”
Tenchnology responded the same day, sounding a bit sheepish:
“Thanks, Bill, for the reminder and for your interest in this little unknown newsletter. I'm new to Substack—lots to learn! Just a heads-up: the About page has been updated.”
Tenchnology’s About page soon read:
“Tencent employee by profession, tech news junkie by obsession. I share bits and bytes from China’s tech scene—some translated, some straight from my keyboard. Hit follow if that sounds even mildly interesting. All content reflects my personal opinions.”
A Substack run by someone openly affiliated with Tencent—but with content that, until Bill Bishop’s intervention, made no mention of the connection? As someone who closely watches how Chinese companies communicate (and often miscommunicate) with global audiences, I had to dig deeper.
What I found was both intriguing and cringe-inducing.
First Impressions: A Mysterious About-Face
My first stop was Tenchnology’s Substack itself. The name alone – Tenchnology – feels like a cheeky wink at Tencent (Ten-chnology, get it?). Initially, the site offered little about who was behind it. No names, no bios, just a tagline. The lack of affiliation disclosure was glaring for an outlet writing so much about a single company.
After Bishop’s public call-out, Tenchnology's revised blurb essentially says Tenchnology is an independent newsletter run by an individual with deep experience and insights in China’s tech industry who, by chance, is also on Tencent’s payroll. They insist all content represents their “personal opinions” and is not on behalf of any organization. In other words, their polite but defensive response was intended to reassure Bishop and other readers that the content constitutes personal opinion, not an official Tencent mouthpiece.
The Tencent Corporate Spirit
From the very first paragraphs, Tenchnology’s content has a corporate tone that’s impossible to ignore. Each piece reads like it was drafted by a PR team enamored with Tencent’s greatness. The coverage is unfailingly positive, often effusive in its praise of Tencent’s products, strategy, and financial performance. There’s nary a critical nuance or outside perspective – a stark contrast to the vibrant, opinionated voices one usually finds on Substack.
Take, for example, a recent post gushing over Tencent’s advances in AI. It opens with a series of “Did you know?” bullet points that feel like a copy-and-paste from an internal brag sheet:
These factoids set the tone: Tenchnology is here to sing Tencent’s praises. The article goes on to marvel at how Tencent has “gone full throttle” on AI, “pushing all its chips in, rolling the dice, and playing to win,” with its ambitious investments already “boosting its bottom line.” This isn’t objective analysis – it’s cheerleading. As I read, I half-expected a Tencent stock ticker to start rolling at the bottom of my screen.
Another piece – a recap of Tencent’s Q4 2024 earnings – might as well have been copied from Tencent’s own press release. It dutifully reports revenue and profit figures (all up, of course) and applauds “the acceleration of its transformation into a high-quality growth company.” The phrasing “high-quality growth company” rang a bell; it’s precisely the kind of self-congratulatory language companies use about themselves. The post continues with more glowing commentary on how AI has revitalized Tencent, driving “positive results across the board.” In Tenchnology’s hands, Tencent can do no wrong – every initiative is visionary, every metric points upward.
I kept looking for any hint of skepticism or even a mild critique. Instead, I found sentences like “aggressive stock buybacks have cemented its status as the most shareholder-friendly Chinese tech company” and then proceeded to ding Alibaba.
One article breathlessly recounts how Tencent’s new AI chatbot overtook rivals in download charts in just two weeks. Another lists “10 Highlights” from Tencent’s earnings, all of which just highlight how well Tencent is doing.
Even when discussing other people's work—such as Jeffrey Ding's conversation about diffusion with Azeem Azhar (Plug: Jeffrey’s ChinaAI is a must read)—Tencent inserted itself into the conversation by offering "context" stating that "Yuanbao AI is merging with Deepseek, aligning with China's broader AI adoption strategy," despite the fact that Tencent and Yuanbao AI weren't mentioned once during the entire livestream.
Even nominally mundane news gets a pro-Tencent spin. It’s a relentless drumbeat of positivity. For readers accustomed to the frank analysis and occasional cynicism on Substacks, Tenchnology’s tone is a giveaway that this is unadulterated corporate comms in disguise.
To be clear, there’s nothing wrong with being positive about a company. I am in the PR and comms business, and building a positive reputation is what I do. But the rules of the game are changing.
Substack is not like traditional media because journalistic etiquette and norms don’t necessarily apply here, and there is no legacy of reputation to rely on. Credibility is earned post by post, not through affiliation. Substack is a place where writers succeed by cultivating trust, often through candor, personality, and, yes, sometimes by airing unpopular opinions.
Tenchnology offers none of that. It’s blandly on-message, as if afraid to deviate from a script. The result? Reading it feels like eating a spoonful of sugar. It’s sweet for a moment, but ultimately, it’s empty calories.
Don’t Take Your Audience for Granted
Tenchnology can certainly rebut what I stated above by saying:
“There are posts about Bytedance and made-in-China short dramas” that do not mention Tencent at all.”
Yes, that’s true. And maybe Tenchnology is just another very pro-Tencent blog that parrots talking points from the company’s internal newsroom. But patterns emerged that suggest a concerted PR effort.
First, Tenchnology’s earliest subscribers are suspiciously tied to Tencent’s communications orbit. Including a comms officer from the Tencent Foundation (now it makes sense that there is a post about snow leopards for a tech-focused Substack). Even one actual Tencent employee publicly called out Tenchnology on X, writing: “Pretty sure this article is Tencent prop(aganda)...”
There is also some questionable cross-promotion happening. This past January, Tenchnology “cross-posted” an article with Geopolitechs, which ended with a conclusion so convenient for Tencent that it read like a friendly pat on the back:
“The removal of Tencent’s WeChat from the Notorious Markets List may indicate, to some extent, that the DoD’s inclusion of Tencent on the CMC list is an isolated incident, and that Tencent is not a key target of sanctions by the U.S. government—at least not in a systematic, ‘whole-of-government’ manner. For Tencent and its investors, this certainly qualifies as good news.”
Just as Geopolititechs used quotes from several Chinese outlets (自媒体 influencer accounts) as supporting evidence for its thesis, some Tenchnology posts are direct translations of Tencent’s Chinese releases.
Check out the piece below for a deep dive into how the Chinese media landscape works.
For the Game Developers Conference recap post, for example, Tenchnology cited details verbatim from its Chinese release (Tenchnology even included one of the hyperlinks!), including the stat that 52% of developers use AI tools, Tencent’s participation, and examples.
Add it all up, and you get an unmistakable sense that Tenchnology’s glowingly pro-Tencent drumbeat isn’t just a case of one employee sharing personal passions. Instead, it is clearly an extension of Tencent’s corporate news page.
How to Go Direct on Substack
So, what’s the takeaway here (besides giving us all a good chuckle and an eye-roll at yet another attempt at corporate astroturfing)? Am I saying companies shouldn’t use Substack or that any positive coverage of a company is propaganda? Not at all. In fact, I applaud companies trying new ways to engage audiences directly. Substack can be an excellent medium for that – if it’s done right. The problem with Tenchnology is not that it’s a company trying to tell its story; the problem is that it’s doing it in an opaque and ultimately counterproductive way.
For any companies – especially those in China tech – looking to “go direct” and communicate on platforms like Substack, here’s my advice, from one Substack writer to (aspiring) others:
Be Transparent from Day One: If your newsletter is company-affiliated or written by employees, say so upfront. You don’t have to shout it in every sentence, but disclose affiliations on your About page or in an introductory post. Transparency builds trust. Hiding or obscuring who you are will inevitably destroy trust when readers figure it out (and they will). It’s far better to say, “We work at Tencent and here’s our insider take” than to pretend you’re objective when you’re not. It also gives reporters the confidence to quote directly from Substack as a credible source in their pieces.
Provide Value Beyond Self-Promotion: Ask yourself, why should a reader spend time on your piece? If the content is purely promotional, only the most die-hard corporate fans will care. To appeal to a broader audience, share insights or stories that readers can’t get elsewhere. Tap into your unique perspective – maybe you have great data, firsthand anecdotes, or technical knowledge – and use that to inform and enlighten. It’s fine to highlight your company’s achievements, but contextualize them, critique them even, and offer takeaways that aren’t just “Tencent is great.” In other words, have editorial integrity. Curate and edit your content as a real publication would, not just as a marketing channel.
If you're anonymous, you better be brilliant. Sharp voice, consistent posts, real engagement. And that requires leaning into the Substack subculture in authentic and genuine ways. Understanding what the target audience is interested in and making editorial decisions based on that will go a long way.
Substack is not the low-budget version of a corporate news site. Don’t confuse formats. Substack is not a PRnewswire dupe or a low-effort comms channel. It demands more. And just because you can write the unequivocally positive article PRs wish reporters could write, does not mean one should. Substack is about building a foundation and reputation worthy of respect through the number of people who subscribe. Because you can’t “lend” the reputation of outlets and journalists who investigate and report on the validity of points made, you have to earn the traffic. Again, this is why anonymity is hard to make work, and even harder when you decide to write that softball release masked as a Substack post.
To put it simply, credibility is earned the hard way – through openness, originality, and authenticity. There’s no shortcut, not even for one of the world’s biggest tech giants.
Tenchnology serves as a cautionary tale. Readers today are savvy; they can sense when content is just corporate PR wrapped in Substack skin. They’ll respond with a collective shrug or call it out for what it is.
As for me, I’m glad Bill Bishop’s note led me down this rabbit hole. It reaffirmed why I love writing Calling the Shots in the first place – to shine a light on the nuances of how Chinese tech companies communicate their stories to the world. Consider this a friendly nudge to Tencent and any other company experimenting in the Substack arena: If you’re going to “call the shots” directly, think more like a reporter, and less like a PR flack, or your audience will call your bluff.
So let’s keep the conversation going. Corporate substacks are here; no one minds a company joining the chat, as long as you speak like a human and not a press release. You will win hearts and minds, not to mention subscribers.
Great piece and analysis. Spot on!
Cool article. I'd like to see more like this.