Zhang Wenhong is one of the best-known infectious-disease physicians to emerge from China’s pandemic response. A director at Huashan Hospital, Fudan University, he rapidly became a public figure in 2020—equal parts clinician, adviser, and communicator—who tried to translate data and bedside lessons into plain-language advice for the public. That visibility has made him a lightning rod: lauded by many for straight talk and ridiculed by others who see his views as elitist or politically fraught. One relatively small episode—his exhortation that children drink milk and eat eggs rather than have plain rice porridge for breakfast during the pandemic—turned into a firestorm that illuminated far broader tensions: between science and custom, nutritional messaging and cultural identity, individual clinicians and state policy, and the hazards of public communication in a hyperpoliticized moment. This article traces that episode and what it reveals about the role of expert voices in China’s COVID-19 fight. (m.news.cctv.com, Global Times)
A doctor in the public square
Zhang Wenhong rose to national prominence during the early months of COVID-19 because he combined clinical credibility with a rare willingness to speak plainly to a broad public. In Shanghai, where he leads infectious disease work at Huashan Hospital, Zhang’s team treated many imported and local cases. That clinical experience—seeing who progressed to severe disease and who did not—shaped his public advice: at its core, Zhang’s messages emphasized prevention, timely treatment, and the role of host factors such as nutrition and overall health in disease outcomes. Those themes were straightforward clinical reasoning offered in the cadence of a trusted physician; but because they touched on daily life, they quickly became social media currency. (m.news.cctv.com)
Zhang’s visibility came at a fraught time. China’s COVID-19 policy and public discourse were intensely politicized: debates about “coexisting with the virus” versus “zero-COVID” approaches, the limits of individual freedoms versus collective containment, and the optics of official messaging were often hotly contested. Zhang, in interviews and lectures, sometimes staked out positions—such as advocating for a pragmatic view that the virus might be endemic in the long-term—that were read by some as stepping outside the preferred political narrative. For others, those very positions were necessary realism. That background is essential to understanding why seemingly minor remarks, like his advice about breakfast, gained outsized political and cultural resonance. (Wikipedia)
The porridge remark: clinical advice, cultural flashpoint
In April 2020, during a public talk and in subsequent media interviews, Zhang advised that parents ensure their children ate adequately nutritious breakfasts—specifically, to prepare “enough milk and eggs every morning” and to avoid only serving white rice porridge (congee) and pickles for breakfast. His reasoning, as he and his team explained, was practical: in hospitalized COVID-19 patients Zhang had observed that well-nourished individuals were less likely to progress to severe disease, and adequate protein intake helps maintain serum albumin levels and support immune responses. In short: protein matters in immunity, and a thin plain porridge as a sole breakfast item is low in protein and nutrient density. (m.news.cctv.com, jres2023.xhby.net)
The clinical logic—ensure adequate protein, hydration, and micronutrients—reads as uncontroversial from a physician’s standpoint. But in China, rice porridge (congee) is not merely food: it’s a cultural staple and comfort food deeply embedded in family traditions. Zhang’s blunt phrasing—”no congee should be allowed as breakfast”—sounded to some like a dismissal of tradition and an embrace of “Western” dietary norms (milk and eggs being associated with non-Asian breakfasts). The reaction on social media ranged from earnest nutritional debate to accusations of cultural snobbery and “worshipping the West.” A seemingly clinical admonition thus became, in the eyes of many, a symbolic affront to everyday family life. (Caixin Global, Global Times)
Why the reaction was so strong
Several overlapping factors turned a dietary suggestion into a national argument:
- Cultural meaning of porridge: Congee is inexpensive, comforting, and widely consumed across China. Telling parents their children “shouldn’t” have porridge felt, to many, like an attack on family culture or socioeconomic realities. When public health advice collides with food traditions, emotions run high.
- Pandemic fatigue and trust: By 2020 many people were already exhausted. Advice perceived as patronizing or insensitive—however scientifically motivated—risked creating backlash. In such a climate, any tone-deaf or blunt message met amplified scrutiny.
- The politics of expertise: In an environment where COVID policy had political valence, any public figure who appeared to diverge—even slightly—from the dominant narrative risked being framed as politically out of step. Zhang’s broader statements about realistic approaches to COVID (including that some level of coexistence with the virus might be inevitable) had already generated pushback from some official quarters; the porridge remark was easier to caricature and attack. (Quartz, Wikipedia)
- Social media dynamics: Platforms accelerate outrage. A digestible, emotive frame—“doctor says no traditional porridge!”—travels faster than a nuanced explanation about protein, albumin, and immune response. The result is a distilled controversy that can drown out clinical nuance. (Global Times)
Zhang’s response and clinical clarifications
Zhang did not double down in a confrontational way. Instead, he used clinical examples to explain his point. He referred to cases in Shanghai where returning migrants or travelers, weakened by poor nutrition during long journeys, progressed more rapidly to severe illness. He explained that the issue was not cultural foods per se, but nutritional adequacy: a breakfast consisting primarily of white rice porridge and pickled vegetables is low in high-quality protein and other nutrients essential for mounting immune responses and recovering from infection. Thus, his advice—encourage milk, eggs, and other protein-rich items—was aimed at practical prevention and resilience, not cultural condemnation. (m.news.cctv.com, jres2023.xhby.net)
This kind of clinical reframing is important: public-health advice often has to balance biological efficacy with acceptability and cultural sensitivity. Zhang’s intent, by his account, was to reduce risks of severe disease by improving baseline nutrition—one of many non-pharmaceutical levers clinicians can advocate alongside masking, hygiene, and vaccination. But his initial wording and the broader political context made the message vulnerable to misinterpretation. (m.news.cctv.com)
Beyond porridge: what the episode reveals about science communication
The porridge controversy is a case study in the difficulties experts face when traversing from clinic to public square.
1. Translation is hard
Technical reasoning must be translated into brief, emotionally resonant messages for mass audiences. In that compression, nuance can be lost. A clinician may mean “increase protein intake,” but an audience hears “no porridge.” Words matter; cultural literacy matters. Public-health communicators must test messages for cultural resonance and unintended readings.
2. Tone and empathy are essential
Scientific credibility isn’t enough. Tone, humility, and explicit empathy—acknowledging traditions, offering substitutions that respect culture—help prevent alienation. Advising someone to change a beloved family habit requires cultural dexterity equal to clinical authority.
3. Individual experts inhabit fraught spaces
When a clinician becomes a public personality, they are subject to political and cultural interpretation. Zhang’s broader positions on pandemic management had already made him controversial in some circles; the porridge remark offered a convenient focal point for critique. Experts must therefore navigate not only medical facts, but the broader sociopolitical landscape their words will enter. (Quartz)
4. Social media accelerates simplification
Platforms reward shareable simplicity, not nuance. That dynamic pressures experts to issue short, striking statements to be heard—yet those same statements are more likely to be misread. Long-form communication, repeated reframing, and collaboration with cultural intermediaries (influential community voices, teachers, clergy, local leaders) helps, but is often slower than the news cycle. (Caixin Global)
The evidence behind Zhang’s nutritional point
It’s important to separate the political theater from the science. From a biomedical perspective:
- Protein and immune function: Adequate protein intake supports the synthesis of antibodies and immune cells; hypoalbuminemia (low serum albumin) correlates with worse outcomes in many infections and in hospitalized patients. Ensuring older adults and vulnerable populations maintain protein intake is an accepted component of supportive care. Hospital protocols often emphasize nutrition as part of comprehensive care, especially when treating respiratory infections where recovery and prolonged catabolic stress can deplete reserves. Zhang’s clinical observations—that well-nourished patients tended to fare better—align with those broad clinical principles.
- Context matters: The concern Zhang voiced was not that congee is intrinsically harmful, but that a diet dominated by low-protein items can leave children and adults with inadequate nutritional reserves during an infectious surge. Many traditional diets can be adapted or supplemented in culturally acceptable ways to increase protein and micronutrients (for example, adding legumes, soy, egg, or milk), so the practical implication is about adaptation rather than elimination.
In other words, the underlying medical point is defensible; the controversy stems from communication strategy and cultural dynamics rather than purely incorrect science. (m.news.cctv.com, jres2023.xhby.net)
The fallout: personal attacks, politics, and the cost of visibility
Following the porridge flap and Zhang’s other outspoken comments, he faced intense scrutiny and sometimes outright abuse online. The controversy over his “coexisting with the virus” remarks—an argument he framed as pragmatic realism—had earlier generated criticism from political figures and commentators who favored a zero-tolerance approach. In China’s tightly controlled media environment, such divergences can attract formal rebukes, social-media pile-ons, and attempts to discredit a figure personally. Zhang even found himself defending against allegations that had little to do with clinical practice. Some commentators and outlets weighed in to support him; others amplified criticism. The porridge episode thus became a lens onto how experts, even medically respected ones, can be pulled into political conflict. (Wikipedia, China Daily)
That treatment raises important ethical and practical questions. Medical professionals who speak publicly do so to inform and protect. When they become targets of personal attacks or politicized assaults, the healthcare system loses a channel it needs for clarity and public trust. At the same time, high visibility carries responsibilities: experts must be prepared for misinterpretation and for the political consequences of straying from dominant narratives. The balance is delicate and, in practice, rarely easy to maintain.
Lessons for public-health practice
From the porridge controversy we can draw several lessons for future health emergencies—lessons that apply well beyond China’s borders:
- Anticipate cultural friction: Before rolling out recommendations that touch on daily life, public-health teams should consult sociologists, anthropologists, and local stakeholders to craft culturally respectful messaging.
- Pair clinical claims with practical alternatives: Don’t just say “don’t do X”; offer culturally congruent alternatives. For example, for families who favor congee, recommend protein-rich side dishes, fortified porridges, or adding egg or soy-based condiments.
- Use trusted messengers: Local leaders, community health workers, and popular cultural figures can translate advice into locally resonant terms. A directive from a national expert is more persuasive when echoed by a trusted local voice.
- Maintain transparency about uncertainty: If evidence is incomplete, be explicit about degrees of certainty. People tolerate changing recommendations when they understand why guidance evolves.
- Prepare experts for public roles: Training in media communication, message-testing, and cultural competence should be part of pandemic preparedness for clinician-leaders who may be called upon to guide the public.
These steps do not remove disagreement or politicization entirely, but they reduce the risk that a clinically well-meaning message will turn into a cultural schism. (Caixin Global)
Zhang as a symbol: why one man’s breakfast advice mattered
Why did Zhang’s suggestion about eggs and milk become a national mark? Because it sat at the crossroads of several potent currents: a novel virus that made ordinary daily routines feel risky, a populace primed to debate everything from masks to mass quarantine, and an information environment where experts had both influence and vulnerability. Zhang was simultaneously a clinician offering bedside wisdom and a public intellectual whose words would be amplified or weaponized depending on the listener’s frame.
More broadly, the episode reflects how societies negotiate the tension between tradition and technoscience during crises. Public-health measures require changing behaviors, but those behaviors are wrapped in culture, memory, and identity. When scientists do not account for the latter, they risk provoking identity-based resistance even when their recommendations would improve health outcomes.
The lesson is not that science should bow to tradition at all costs; rather, that effective public health recognizes traditions and works through them. A protein-rich breakfast can be promoted without demonizing congee—by offering substitutions, creative recipes, or small habit nudges that retain cultural continuity while increasing nutritional value. That approach preserves dignity, reduces defensiveness, and often produces better adherence.
The long view: Zhang’s legacy and the role of experts in public life
Zhang Wenhong’s public career during COVID-19 will be remembered for both his clinical leadership and his ability to spark debate. Controversies like the porridge remark are, in the long view, less consequential than the medical outcomes his team sought to protect. But they are revealing as moments when science communication either succeeded or failed in bridging the gap between laboratory/clinic and kitchen table.
As governments and health institutions plan for future pandemics, the Zhang episode suggests three durable priorities:
- Invest in interdisciplinary communication: Epidemiology and clinical expertise should be integrated with cultural analysis, behavioral science, and media strategy.
- Protect scientific voices from politicized vilification: Societies need safe spaces in which experts can communicate and debate without being silenced by ad hominem attacks or politicized reprisals. Such protection encourages transparency and the iterative improvement of advice.
- Normalize humility and listening: Even expert advice is more effective when delivered with humility—acknowledging traditions, listening to community feedback, and adapting recommendations based on local needs.
When experts like Zhang engage publicly, they bring care, authority, and the burden of translation. Their value is enormous, but so is the risk of miscommunication. Sustaining that channel requires not just brave individuals but systems that support good communication and absorb controversy without destroying the social capital experts need to function. (m.news.cctv.com, Quartz)
Conclusion: more than a breakfast debate
The “porridge controversy” surrounding Zhang Wenhong is more than a quirky cultural spat about what constitutes a proper breakfast. It is a window into the complexities of pandemic communication: the friction between clinical evidence and cultural practice, the hazards of public prominence for medical experts, and the political currents that can magnify small messages into large conflicts. Zhang’s underlying point—that nutrition and protein can affect disease progression—is medically defensible. The lesson is that delivery matters at least as much as the content of the message.
If there is an optimistic take from the episode, it is that debates like this can sharpen public-health practice. They highlight the need for culturally sensitive messaging, for interdisciplinary expertise in crafting recommendations, and for protecting the space in which clinicians can educate without fear. In that way, what began as a fight over porridge can help prepare societies for more consequential debates and decisions in the next health emergency. (m.news.cctv.com, Caixin Global)
Sources and further reading
Key sources used to prepare this article include:
- CCTV coverage of Zhang Wenhong’s media remarks and clinical reasoning. (m.news.cctv.com)
- Global Times reporting on the public reaction to Zhang’s breakfast advice. (Global Times)
- Caixin Global’s reporting on the debate between traditional congee and protein-focused advice. (Caixin Global)
- Quartz’s analysis of how speech and policy tensions affected public commentary on “living with COVID” approaches. (Quartz)
- Background on Zhang Wenhong’s role in China’s COVID-19 discourse (Wikipedia summary and reporting). (Wikipedia)
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