At its core, a marathon is an “organized chaos.” Thousands of runners start simultaneously, with course closures, supply distribution, medical support, volunteer services, traffic management, sponsor rights, and participant experience all unfolding under intense pressure in the same timeframe. Such an event cannot operate with the precision of a laboratory, nor can it avoid all friction. It is not about achieving “zero problems,” but about keeping complex operations within a manageable and orderly range.
However, a worrying trend is emerging: some self-media outlets are turning marathons into a “public opinion business.” They often seize on isolated incidents during events—like temporary congestion at aid stations, disputes over finisher bags, minor course disorganization, or complaints from individual runners—and then edit, amplify, and emotionally package these issues as “major failures,” “management collapse,” or “public outrage.” Under the pressure of public opinion, event organizers and authorities often lack the time to differentiate facts from exaggerations and rush to put out fires, delete posts, and reduce the heat.
Here’s an interesting anecdote: After a high-profile marathon this year, a self-media outlet listed numerous “shortcomings” of the event, stirring up significant pressure on the organizers. When approached to clarify some of the so-called “shortcomings” and asked to understand the difficulties of holding such an event, the outlet’s response was blunt: “We don’t delete posts for events we haven’t partnered with.” Then they presented an annual cooperation agreement: my company has over a dozen events, at 5,000 each—sign the contract, and everything is fine.
This strategy works because of two “information gaps.” First, authorities and leading officials may not fully understand the operational dynamics of marathons; to them, public opinion often means risk and accountability. Second, the general public lacks awareness of the complexity of large-scale mass events, easily interpreting every on-site friction as a problem with the event organization. As a result, some self-media become the “definers of problems”: what counts as a problem, what counts as a mistake, and what counts as a public opinion crisis is often determined not by professional judgment but by viral potential.
This is the most alarming aspect of current marathon governance. Marathons should certainly accept oversight, and organizational mistakes, loopholes, or severe problems must be pointed out and corrected. But the problem is that the concept of “problems” is being constantly expanded. Is five minutes in line for a toilet a problem? Is a finisher bag not meeting expectations a problem? Are a few online complaints a problem? Can a poor local experience be equated with event failure? If everything is a problem, everything must be responded to, feared to go viral, and potentially escalated. Over time, authorities fall into “opinion-based governance”: judging issues not by risk level, actual consequences, and responsibility boundaries, but by online traffic.
Whoever shouts louder seems right; whoever posts first owns the definition; whoever creates anxiety forces action. This is not mature governance. A truly professional approach should first aim to re-establish a scale for judging problems, rather than trying to eliminate all voices. We must avoid a “marathon public opinion fetish.” Bottom-line issues requiring zero tolerance—such as safety accidents, medical rescue failures, course guidance errors, or major referee mistakes—must be taken seriously. Optimization issues at the experience level—like aid stations, course design, supplies, and service details—can be improved but should not be easily exaggerated as crises. Only by clarifying these boundaries can regulation avoid being driven by traffic, and organizers avoid becoming overly conservative due to fear of opinion.
Ultimately, marathons can accept criticism, but it should not always be defined by virality. They can respond to concerns, but must first distinguish between real issues and emotional amplification. When all participants realize that staging a marathon involves not only professional, organizational, and safety risks, but also the risk of being clipped, spun, and escalated in the public sphere, the industry’s first reaction is often to become more conservative, not more professional. Local governments may hesitate to hold events, authorities may approve fewer races, organizers may shy away from innovation, and sponsors may reassess their investments. Eventually, the industry shifts from “how to run a good event” to “how to avoid incidents.”
If an industry’s highest goal is “avoid incidents,” it is not far from losing its vitality. The real danger is not that marathons will always have public opinion issues, but that marathons will gradually become fewer—cities unwilling to hold them, social capital hesitant to invest, and the industry ecosystem becoming increasingly fragile. At that point, excessive scrutiny will not have fostered a healthier industry but may have compressed the space for a vibrant public sports activity that connects cities, markets, and the public.
If an industry is always defined by external traffic, it may lose not only its reputation but also its room for existence and development. Therefore, the next important step in marathon governance is not just strengthening oversight, but building common sense. More people need to understand: a marathon is a complex large-scale public event that allows local friction but cannot compromise safety; it needs supervision but should not be swayed by emotion; it can have disputes, but those disputes should not be escalated endlessly. The essence of a marathon is never “perfect uniformity,” but maintaining overall order amid complexity. Its evaluation should not always be skewed by traffic.
Share another anecdote: At a meeting discussing public opinion, it was agreed that while domestic marathons have many strengths, inevitable flaws exist. However, a few self-media outlets, driven by traffic, amplify issues and create anxiety, making the outside world think marathons are a mess. Someone angrily concluded, “Aren’t they just anti-China forces?” This actually drew applause from the room.
