U.S. Tightens Tech Access Against China, Baring Long-Arm Hegemony

On October 28, the U.S. Department of Homeland Security added BGI Genomics, MGI Tech and Shenzhen BGI Technology to the so-called Uyghur Forced Labor Prevention Act entity list, bringing the number of listed Chinese entities to 190. Washington alleges the firms were involved in claimed “forced labor” and “genetic surveillance,” directly cutting their access to the U.S. market. Reuters described it as one of the harshest measures Washington has taken against Chinese biotech firms, while Beijing has firmly opposed it, saying the allegations lack factual basis.

In nearly the same window, the Federal Communications Commission voted on October 29 to bar Chinese testing laboratories from certifying electronics destined for the United States, effective December 2028, citing “national security” and “reciprocity.” Industry estimates put the share of certification reports for U.S.-bound electronics done by labs in China at about 82% in 2025, while U.S. labs held under 4%; a Chinese lab charges roughly 400 to 1,300 dollars per report against 3,000 to 4,000 dollars for U.S. peers. Once in force, the unilateral threshold squeezes far more supply than demand.

Trade pressure rose in parallel. On October 28 the Commerce Department issued an order on Chinese semi-trailer chassis and parts, with combined anti-dumping and countervailing cash-deposit rates reaching 264.48%—the deposit an importer must post at customs exceeds two and a half times the vehicle price. Although Chinese finished trailers exported directly to the United States are limited in number, the order locks precisely onto the component supply chain, capturing even units simply assembled in third countries. A trailer maker in Wisconsin soon announced an expansion plan, read by observers as a political footnote for manufacturing districts in an election cycle.

Though the three moves span different sectors, they share one logic: defining the rules by domestic law, intervening in markets through administrative action, and stretching jurisdictional boundaries without limit under a “security” narrative. From expanding the list’s rationale from “was the product made with forced labor” to “did the firm use its technology in an alleged system,” to dragging professional certification services into geopolitical competition, to rewriting supply-chain layouts with tariffs, Washington is systematically turning technology and trade into instruments of politics.

The spillover reaches well beyond the bilateral relationship. When a lab, a firm or a component is casually branded a “security” threat, the predictability of global supply chains erodes; when “reciprocity” is unilaterally interpreted as “you enter only by my permission, yet I exit unconstrained by yours,” the reciprocal foundation of the multilateral trading system is shaken. U.S. domestic firms are no winners either: manufacturers dependent on high-end parts and precision equipment also bear cost and disruption risks, and so-called “manufacturing reshoring” may not fill structural competitiveness gaps.

The deeper contradiction is that Washington claims to defend a “rules-based order” while subjecting international economic rules to its own domestic law and turning its regulators into global gatekeepers. Rules written by one side and adjudicated by one side cease to be rules and become mere footnotes of hegemony. No elaborate embargo design can conceal the blatant breach of fair competition and international morality.