It is a chilly December afternoon in Shanghai. Some 30 people are huddling together in the interior of a former office block, listening attentively to a presentation on how to build a small, spider-like insect robot. The interactive workshop is hosted by XinCheJian, China’s first makerspace, a community-run initiative where inventors, technicians, and ordinary people meet to experiment with everything from drones to 3D printing.
As the presentation draws to a close, those in attendance – mainly young people in their 20s or 30s – talk enthusiastically about the latest inventions. A significant number of those crammed in this venue are engineering or electronics students, here to put their learning into practice and showcase their skills. Others are mere hobbyists with a passion for robotics, or aspiring technology professionals.
The origins of the maker movement can be traced back to Germany, where in 1995 a group of young programmers pooled together and began sharing a workshop space. The first decade of the new century saw the emergence of the movement in China too, and now it has gained ground. Entrepreneurs, and also hobbyists, have increasingly used open-source design, 3D printing, and crowdfunding to create hybrid art works and manufacture technology products independently. It’s no longer just about “Made in China” in terms of manufacturing. On the contrary, China is becoming an essential enabler in the global maker movement on the level of invention.
The technological paradigm of the maker movement stresses the role of technology, and more widely, of innovation. Chinese officials have been supporting the growth of the movement since as far back as 2011, when the authorities in Shanghai announced a plan to launch 100 “innovation houses” in the city, offering each a considerable amount of funding. That same year, the Administrative Committee of Zhongguancun Science Park in Beijing announced plans to provide funding to further develop the capital’s own makerspace community. A year later, the Shanghai Maker Carnival drew analogous sponsorship from the government as well.
Literally meaning “new workshop”, XinCheJian was established in 2010. What started as a handful of people in a one-room office has now expanded to hundreds of active makers. They are working on a diverse range of projects, from a pocket-sized anti-theft device that sets off an alarm when a theft occurs, to a suspended garden that uses artificial light and soilless farming. DIY (Do-it-yourself) culture is being remade here and attracting more and more ordinary people. As a result, grassroots innovation is picking up fast – and in a unique way.
Founded in 2008 at the intersection of industrial manufacturing and makerspace culture in China, the Shenzhen-based Seeed Studio, an open-source hardware facilitation company, helps makers source, design, produce, and commercialize their ideas with creativity and diligence. Encouraging people to propose and sell their projects on-site, the studio staff is busy with making quick prototypes and manufacturing small orders.
“Let’s say you are a maker with a limited budget to get your project into production,” says Eric Pan, founder of the studio. “Seeed gives you the tools – from open-source hardware like electronic components to crowdfunding services – to bring your concept to life. It’s a bottom-up approach to creativity. You no longer need to be an engineer to realize your invention and sell it on the market. We do that for you, right here in Shenzhen.”
With its abundance of skilled labor, suppliers and service providers, Shenzhen, the bustling southern city, has become one of the centers of the Chinese maker culture. Started as a two-person company, Seeed now boasts a staff of several hundred. Having worked for numerous makers and diversified its customer base, it has become one of the world’s biggest providers of technology for small-scale innovators.
But the Chinese maker movement is not merely a drive to make commercial products for the global market. The momentum of makerspaces is redefining the way people think about their work. They are hives of innovation and real-world communities where members can do what they love, seek consultation, take risks, and play.
In Beijing, Hackathons have become popular events among local makers and students. These 24- to 48-hour events see computer programmers, graphic designers, interface designers, and project managers come together to collaborate on software and businesses.
Reflecting on the growth of the movement, Justin Wang, founder of Beijing Makerspace, speaks of the importance of the makerspace community with clarity, “The main reason why I started Beijing Makerspace was to give people with a common interest a platform to experiment together and turn technology into something accessible to anyone, like music.”
“There’s a lot of educational and financial potential in what we’re doing,” says Wang. “One of our makers might develop the next big thing in the tech field. Hence some industry giants are keen to get involved. Meanwhile, the government has been expanding its support for the growth of the movement.”
But might such top-down support override any decisions made by makerspaces or clash with the grassroots essence of the maker movement? To the founders of the makerspaces, this isn’t the case. The government’s involvement allows them to get a budget allocation, work on their own projects, and host fairs and initiatives – all are essential if they want to bring the DIY culture forward.
Widely hailed as an ingenious approach to fostering an ecosystem for open-source innovation, makerspaces well represent a business model that puts purpose before earnings and that promotes a trustworthy environment conducive to knowledge-sharing and co-creation. This model, in conjunction with the support of the Chinese government, will navigate innovation, spark creativity, help individuals, and invigorate the local economies and the Chinese economy as a whole.