Genuine expertise, though, does not seem to command such a price. Economist and social critic Mao Yushi charges 100 RMB per question. Ping-pong coach Wu charges 66 RMB, and his answers have garnered around 170,000 views in total. He said he chooses his questions carefully: "I answer four types—training, basic ping-pong knowledge, advice for young learners, and any other questions I might find meaningful." Most attract around 1,000 views from his 59,000 followers, meaning the askers usually make back their investment after 150 pay-per-views.
The first question Wu tackled was simple: "Could you give some practical advice for improving my game?" Wu's 361-character answer attracted 282 views (which meant his first Weibo student made 60.9 RMB in profit). But Wu's most popular answer concerned his thoughts on a pair of celebrity players, Ma Long and Zhang Jike.
Wu told TWOC that users' appetite for gossip has made him cautious about the concept of cash-for-questions. "It's an effective way for me to promote ping-pong, but I know that some people ask questions just to make money," he said. "I have to control it carefully. I only answer three or four questions a day, and the question has to be related to ping-pong; if not, I won't answer it."
According to economist Guo Cheng, visiting professor at Zhongshan University, the attraction of knowledge-sharing apps has little to do with actual knowledge. "For those who really want it, knowledge is everywhere," Guo told TWOC. "Open courses from Harvard or Yale are all high-end resources that people can access for free. In fact, most people [on Q&A platforms] spend money just get to close to people they are interested in."
As a Weibo user with over 3 million followers, Guo, who goes by the handle Mr. Think (Zuomo Xiansheng), is himself a "Big V" who has answered more than 160 questions and earned over 100,000 RMB in less than a month since joining Q&A. But Guo said the most popular questions are mostly concerned with novelty ("anecdotes about celebrities or some interesting way to interpret history") and money—"people always care about their wallet." Success is dependent on recognition, said Guo: "It only works for those Big Vs; ordinary accounts without enough followers can't make it big."
Despite the widely touted investment rounds, Guo doesn't see much future in these platforms. "Their prosperity is probably a flash in the pan," he said. "One's knowledge is limited. Maybe it's fine to answer hundreds of questions. But when it comes to thousands—how can they keep producing new ideas? And the general public is still more accustomed to free information on the internet." Meanwhile, there are simpler ways to make money: "If Big Vs can easily make tens of thousands kuai posting ads, why keep answering questions?"
Big Vs may also be wary of censorship. In August, Fenda suspended its service, and claimed to be undergoing a "service upgrade." The move was widely interpreted a crackdown by authorities; sure enough, when Fenda returned after a 47-day silence, only three of its categories remained—work, health and science.
Another issue is quality control: On most Q&A platforms, anyone can call himself an expert, and there's no guarantee of either their identity or the veracity of answers. But while the medium may seem new and different, Guo said it follows a familiar pattern: "The form is always changing, from rise to decline, but the root is a modern anxiety for knowledge," he said. "If people like it, I will continue; if they get bored, I will stop."
"A Question of Cash" is a story from our issue, "Courier Army". To read the entire issue, become a subscriber and receive the full magazine. Alternatively, you can purchase the digital version from the iTunes Store.
Article by Sun Jiahui
　　
