Unfortunately for their leaders, some 384 million Chinese netizens who help to make up one-fifth of mankind are expressing their views, just not through the leaders' mouths. As China's legislators gathered in the Great Hall of the People in Beijing for the annual National People's Congress (NPC), an alternative e-congress, dealing with housing prices, education and the wealth gap, was being held in the virtual "Great Hall of the Netizens". 

The Chinese take their duties as netizens very seriously, probably because they garner results. There isn't much space between the virtual and real political worlds. In January, three netizens were named political advisers in Anhui Province, and in 2009 the authorities were forced to deal openly with three high-profile and unexplained criminal injustices that became internet sensations: the death of a 24-year-old prisoner, an accident in which a young pedestrian was killed by a car speeding through the streets of Hangzhou, and an entrapment scandal in Shanghai. Last month, a corrupt official was outed when his diary, which contained details of his various sexual dalliances and cash gifts, was leaked online. China's leaders are beginning to comprehend the power of the internet. Tellingly, Premier Wen Jiabao didn't take any questions from delegates after his speech to the NPC, yet dedicated two hours to an online question-and-answer session that elicited more than 60,000 questions. 

The e-congress and the online session with Mr Wen were, of course, tightly controlled affairs in which sensitive political issues were not discussed, and the interest that Chinese leaders show in the internet is one of self-interest. Yet it's difficult to ignore 384 million voices. This freedom is essential, even if its results may challenge us: after all, the second most popular proposal at the e-congress was the extension of the death penalty to corrupt officials.