Just like restrictions on Australian lobster (which remain in place long after other barriers were removed), maintaining the seafood ban was a relatively low cost way for Beijing to hold leverage in reserve given the ease of substituting fish and other aquatic products. For Tokyo, however, after facing 13 months of lobbying and industry pressure, the prospect of the ban's removal could be a tempting inducement.
Yet Beijing’s decision may have been less about getting something specific in return, and more a general effort to cash in accumulated leverage at a time when China may be on the back foot.
First, Tokyo is currently in the final stages of negotiating a deal with Washington to expand semiconductor export restrictions. Beijing has reportedly already issued threats about potential consequences for Japan, and may hope that combining those with a promise to (potentially) remove the seafood ban persuades Tokyo to opt for less restrictive measures than Washington is seeking.
Second, Japan's governing Liberal Democratic Party is just days out from electing a new leader who will replace Fumio Kishida as prime minister. Several of the nine candidates are considered staunch critics of China, such as current Economic Security Minister Sanae Takaichi. Beijing may calculate that giving a small concession on the seafood issue could gently soften its image in Japan, defusing the most hawkish China rhetoric ahead of the vote and thereby perhaps – on the margins – enhancing the prospects of candidates more inclined to improve bilateral relations. At the very least, it might be a low-cost way of wiping the slate clean to start fresh with whoever wins.
A third reason relates to a shocking and tragic incident that occurred the week before the announcement, in which a Chinese man killed a Japanese schoolboy in Shenzhen. This followed a series of other events which have received significant and sustained criticism in the Japanese media, including another stabbing incident and a series of Chinese military provocations. Beijing denied any connection between the Shenzhen incident and the seafood decision, but amid spiralling Japanese public opinion against China, the removal gesture may be (in part) about stabilising a deteriorating narrative.
In an era of heightened geopolitical rivalry, governments are proving more reluctant than ever to give up leverage for nothing, even when that leverage is founded upon economically distorting actions that undermine the global trading system. If that is the case here, the decision might ultimately reflect Beijing feeling somewhat on the defensive and assessing a need to initiate bilateral relationship repair. But given Beijing’s announcement was only about beginning the process of removing the ban, rather than an immediate outright removal, this story might not be over yet. At the very least, it shows how economic statecraft involves both wielding sticks and dangling carrots, sometimes at the same time.