THE STORY of Kuafu is a classic of Chinese mythology. The powerful giant, his arms wrapped in pythons, runs for days through hills and valleys to chase the sun that has scorched his people. His Herculean effort has come to symbolise exploration and courage in the present day; China has named various technological feats including its solar probe and an advanced humanoid robot after him. More aptly still, his pursuit has become a symbol of China’s nuclear-fusion ambitions.
It was with Kuafu-like gusto, then, that 1,500 physicists, engineers and nuclear-fusion enthusiasts recently gathered in the city of Hefei, a research hub where China is building its Burning Plasma Experimental Superconducting Tokamak (BEST), the country’s latest and greatest experimental machine to generate fusion-based power. Construction is currently on track to be completed by 2027, after which BEST will be a test bed for an even more ambitious project: the China Fusion Engineering Demo Reactor (CFEDR) that is expected to be up and running by 2030. If that succeeds, power stations connected to the electrical grid could follow. That timeline is at least a decade ahead of other governments’ efforts to achieve fusion. Those present in Hefei, therefore, described BEST as a “historic turning-point” in China’s quest to develop the technology.
For all of fusion’s potential to generate low-cost electricity at scale, the technology has largely remained experimental. And though America and Europe have long led the pursuit of a commercial reactor, meticulous planning has given China’s prospects a boost. Its private fusion firms have yet to rival those abroad. But the country’s national programme has become a fierce competitor. Integral to its successes is a three-pronged strategy: setting research priorities for its scientists and engineers; providing vast amounts of funding for those wonks; and building an industrial supply chain for the parts that fusion reactors will need. Whether or not that will be enough to guarantee victory, the race for fusion is on in earnest.
For now, China has settled on tried-and-tested technologies for pursuing fusion. BEST is a tokamak, a doughnut-shaped reactor in which an electrically charged plasma is heated and confined by magnets until the constituent particles, made up of different types of hydrogen nuclei, overcome the repulsive forces that normally keep them apart. When the conditions are right, the nuclei can be made to fuse, releasing vast amounts of energy. Much of this energy is delivered to neutrons produced by the reaction, causing them to collide with the reactor walls at high speed, thereby generating heat.
To become useful in power stations, tokamaks will need to reach so-called burning conditions, in which the plasma is dense enough for its heat to become self-sustaining. This occurs at temperatures above 150m°C and in the presence of magnetic fields that are hundreds of thousands of times stronger than Earth’s. Chinese scientists are inching towards that goal. On January 1st researchers working at China’s Experimental Advanced Superconducting Tokamak (EAST), one of BEST’s predecessors (where a mural of Kuafu hangs) reported that they had successfully increased the density of their plasma to levels once thought impossible. Eking out further increases will take time.
Physics challenges are one thing; engineering is another. Tokamaks are big machines with cutting-edge components. Construction depends on a complex supply chain, including power modules, vacuum chambers and powerful superconducting magnets. Chinese policy has incentivised industrial firms to manufacture those parts, another area where the country is ahead of its rivals. Its engineering firms have particular expertise in the field of metallic carpentry, developing magnetic coils and power-conversion components used by fusion projects abroad. ITER, a long-running fusion effort based in the south of France, uses Chinese-made parts.
There is also the question of fuel. BEST is designed to fuse nuclei of two hydrogen isotopes: deuterium, which has one proton and one neutron; and tritium, which has one proton and two neutrons. Deuterium, which can be extracted from water, is inexpensive. Tritium, by contrast, is hopelessly rare in nature and, owing to its radioactivity, decays quickly. BEST will initially rely on an external supply of this fuel but its scientists hope it will eventually be able to produce its own. If the tokamak vessel is lined on the inside with a blanket of lithium, those atoms could, when struck by energetic neutrons released during nuclear fusion, turn into tritium atoms. It is an elusive step many fusion projects would dearly love to master.
To test and scale the lithium blanket as well as other fusion technologies and materials, R&D is being conducted down the road from BEST, at the Comprehensive Research Facility for Fusion Technology (CRAFT), which is also—naturally—nicknamed Kuafu. Here, engineers are developing materials, magnets and components that will go into future fusion devices, as well as testing BEST’s systems. They are also developing high-precision robots that can carry heavy payloads and operate under high temperatures, which will help maintain the giant reactor in the future. Whereas the Europeans want to perfect technologies ahead of construction, says Yannick Marandet, research director of France’s National Centre for Scientific Research, the big advantage the Chinese have is their willingness to “learn by doing”.
Equally important, though, has been state planners’ drive to harness fusion power. In July 2025 China created China Fusion Energy, a state-owned enterprise that sits under its national nuclear company , to tie together research efforts. On January 15th the country’s new Atomic Energy Law went into effect, driving investment in the growing industry by setting out regulations. The culmination of these efforts came on March 12th, when the government included nuclear fusion in its high-level economic blueprints, including the 15th Five Year Plan.
China’s largely state-led fusion efforts come as Western countries, in particular America, have seen a surge in private-sector interest in the field. Across the world 77 startups have raised $15bn with the goal of eventually achieving self-sustaining fusion using technologies ranging from advanced tokamaks to laser-driven designs and reactors with novel layouts known as stellarators. These alternatives, some of which may well be cheaper or simpler, could leapfrog expensive public efforts. Some American firms claim they will be able to supply energy to the grid by the early 2030s, a timeline that rivals China’s.
There are some signs China is increasingly following America’s example, driving private capital towards promising fusion startups. Whereas 42 American startups have raised a total of $8bn to date, eight Chinese firms raised about $5bn much more quickly. In April last year, NovaFusionX, a Chinese firm, raised $70m, the largest first-funding round for a private fusion company in the country. Startorus Fusion, another startup, spun out of Tsinghua University, is betting on a spherical-shaped tokamak, and raised double that amount in January. Energy Singularity, another firm, hopes to reach the same goal by building extremely strong magnets, whereas ENN, a Chinese conglomerate, is using different fuels: it will attempt to fuse hydrogen nuclei with those of boron.
The pursuit need not be zero-sum. China remains open to collaboration, not only learning from ITER’s findings, but also allowing foreign scientists to use its machines (though few Americans have shown up recently). Foreign scientists are quick to credit Chinese speed and efficiency—and progress—in improving their own projects. When BEST is up and running, it will be among the most advanced fusion experiments in the world, and scientists from all countries will want to collaborate, says Dr Marandet. Unlike Kuafu, then, China’s scientists will not chase the sun alone. ■
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