China’s “F-22 Lock-On” Claim Signals a New Phase of Psychological and Technological Warfare
When Chinese state media announced that a People’s Liberation Army (PLA) J-16 fighter had “locked onto” and repelled two U.S. F-22 Raptors, it was more than just an aviation story — it was a signal. Whether or not the event actually happened, the claim itself reveals how Beijing uses military theater to project confidence, manipulate perceptions, and test Washington’s response thresholds. The message to domestic and foreign audiences alike is clear: China wants the world to believe it can now hunt America’s most advanced stealth fighters.
According to Chinese outlets, the incident occurred during a “training exercise” within China’s Air Defense Identification Zone (ADIZ). The J-16 pilot, identified as Li Chao, allegedly executed dramatic close-range maneuvers, flying just ten to fifteen meters above a U.S. jet before achieving radar lock on both targets. He then reportedly escorted them out of the zone.
“Locking on” refers to obtaining a fire-control solution — the radar or sensor precision needed to launch a missile. Doing this to another nation’s aircraft is a highly escalatory act even in neutral airspace. Beijing’s decision to publicize the story, complete with heroic descriptions of “barrel rolls” and “anti-stealth tactics,” fits a familiar propaganda pattern: exaggerate technical prowess, celebrate individual bravery, and cast the United States as the aggressor forced into retreat.
But the real timing matters. The story surfaced just as the PLA was holding joint exercises in the South China Sea and days before high-level Communist Party meetings in Beijing. Internally, it reinforces nationalist pride and distracts from scandals such as recent military purges. Externally, it sends a calculated signal — that China’s anti-stealth detection network is maturing and may threaten America’s long-standing dominance in the Pacific sky.
Chinese state commentary framed the encounter as proof that the PLA’s “integrated combat system” can now track stealth aircraft like the F-22. This supposed system reportedly fuses data from low-frequency ground radars, early-warning aircraft, satellites, and data-link networks, feeding information into fighters such as the J-16.
If accurate, that would represent a major leap in counter-stealth capability. The U.S. Air Force has long relied on stealth superiority — radar-evading coatings, minimal radar cross-sections, and sensor fusion — to dominate air combat. China’s claim that its network can “see” such aircraft implies it could neutralize a core American advantage.
However, defense analysts quickly pointed out that Beijing’s story is almost certainly exaggerated or fictionalized. The J-16 is a fourth-generation derivative of Russia’s Su-30, not a stealth jet. Its onboard radar would struggle to detect an F-22 under realistic conditions. Experts suspect the “lock-on” was simulated or data-assisted by a larger command network, not achieved through the jet’s own sensors. Even so, the claim’s psychological effect is powerful — suggesting that China’s technological gap with the U.S. may be closing.
For Washington, this kind of story is less about a single encounter and more about information warfare. Beijing routinely blends truth, exaggeration, and fiction to test reactions and build a perception of inevitability around its rise. The “J-16 vs. F-22” tale fits perfectly within that framework.
Domestically, the episode bolsters national pride and reaffirms Xi Jinping’s narrative of a rejuvenated China ready to “defend its sovereignty.” Internationally, it attempts to erode deterrence by portraying U.S. technology as vulnerable and Chinese systems as catching up. Even if the incident never occurred, the perception alone can influence behavior — emboldening PLA pilots to act more aggressively and convincing neighboring countries that America’s protective umbrella is less reliable than before.
This strategy mirrors Russia’s use of “gray-zone” operations — aggressive acts that stop short of open conflict but gradually shift the balance of power. Each near-collision, radar lock, or simulated interception normalizes risk. For U.S. pilots operating near the Taiwan Strait or the South China Sea, these provocations increase the chance of an accidental escalation.
The U.S. Indo-Pacific Command has repeatedly accused China of unsafe and unprofessional intercepts over the past two years. In several documented cases, Chinese aircraft have flown within meters of American surveillance planes, released flares in front of allied jets, or cut across flight paths to force evasive maneuvers. The Pentagon described these actions as “reckless” and “intended to intimidate.”
The new “F-22 lock-on” narrative continues that escalation cycle, blurring the line between propaganda and potential combat. A radar lock is not just posturing — it is a trigger-ready stance, the last step before a missile launch. Even simulated locks risk being misinterpreted as hostile intent, particularly amid deteriorating communication between U.S. and Chinese commanders.
As Beijing conducts more “integrated network exercises,” it is effectively rehearsing how to coordinate cyber, space, and air assets in a future conflict. Publicizing those drills through sensationalized stories about humiliating American pilots helps the CCP condition its population for confrontation while desensitizing the international community to provocative military behavior.
Beijing’s propaganda outlets are not just talking to domestic audiences anymore. English-language state media, social platforms, and sympathetic influencers now push these stories globally, aiming to shape Western perceptions directly. The message to Americans is subtle but strategic: “China can challenge you anywhere, and your technology no longer guarantees victory.”
That narrative has real consequences. It can undermine American confidence in deterrence, weaken allied unity, and pressure U.S. policymakers to accept Chinese assertiveness as the new normal. By inflating its achievements, Beijing tries to convince the world that the balance of power has already shifted — that resisting its demands is futile.
This form of psychological pre-conditioning is one of the most cost-effective tools in China’s arsenal. It doesn’t require warships or missiles, only stories that erode belief in U.S. superiority. The “F-22 lock-on” tale is a textbook example — a cheap propaganda victory that reinforces China’s image as technologically equal to the United States while requiring no real proof.
The greater danger is not that China can truly detect stealth jets, but that it believes its own propaganda. When state media exaggerates capability, military officers and politicians start acting on false confidence. That’s how accidents happen. A PLA pilot convinced his radar can outsmart an F-22 might attempt dangerous maneuvers, misjudge range, or interpret routine surveillance as aggression.
Such overconfidence could trigger an unintended exchange of fire in international airspace. A single missile — fired by mistake or miscommunication — could spiral into a regional crisis involving the U.S., Japan, and Australia. In that sense, propaganda itself becomes a weapon: not because it destroys equipment, but because it distorts decision-making inside China’s command hierarchy.
For Washington, this underscores the need for reliable de-confliction channels and firm deterrence postures. The U.S. cannot allow aggressive behavior to go unanswered, yet it must avoid feeding Beijing’s domestic narrative that war is inevitable. Clear, consistent signaling — combined with readiness — remains the only way to keep incidents like this from escalating.
At the heart of this confrontation is a contest not just of machines but of information control. The F-22 represents America’s mastery of stealth, sensor fusion, and networked warfare — a symbol of technological superiority built over decades. The J-16 story represents Beijing’s counter-narrative: that China’s systems, empowered by AI, satellite coordination, and anti-stealth radar, can close that gap.
In truth, the PLA is still years behind in stealth capability, pilot training, and electronic warfare integration. But by claiming parity, China gains leverage in the realm of perception — and perception shapes politics. Every time Beijing announces a supposed “victory” over an American system, it chips away at the psychological deterrent that has kept the Indo-Pacific stable for generations.
This contest is not confined to the skies. The same logic drives China’s cyber operations, maritime harassment, and space activities. Each domain becomes a testing ground for new methods of coercion — and each success story, real or fabricated, fuels the regime’s self-image as a global equal to the United States.
Americans should not dismiss stories like this as mere propaganda. They are strategic probes, designed to observe how the United States and its allies react. Silence may be read as weakness; outrage may be exploited as validation. The correct response is measured vigilance — acknowledging the risk without amplifying the narrative.
Washington must also invest in public resilience against disinformation. As competition with China intensifies, state media will increasingly blur fact and fiction to shape global opinion. Recognizing these stories as tools of influence — rather than evidence of actual battlefield success — is essential to maintaining perspective.
In the long run, the “F-22 lock-on” claim will likely join a long list of exaggerated achievements, from ghost carriers to super-radars. But its significance lies in what it reveals: a China more aggressive in tone, more confident in propaganda, and more willing to play psychological chess with the world’s most advanced military.
China’s alleged radar “lock” on a U.S. F-22 may never have happened — but the message behind it is very real. Beijing is signaling its readiness to challenge America not only with weapons but with narratives, turning perception into a battlefield of its own. For the United States, the lesson is straightforward yet urgent: staying ahead in technology means little if you fall behind in communication, credibility, or public vigilance.
America’s pilots may still rule the skies, but Beijing is learning to fight in the mind. That is a battleground Washington cannot afford to ignore.
