Consider two recent examples. In September, Japan, cowed by China’s chest-thumping, released the captain of the fishing boat it impounded after the vessel strayed into the waters adjoining a clump of islands (Senkaku in Japanese, Diaoyu in Chinese) that both Beijing and Tokyo claim but that the latter controls. But that was not enough to placate China’s leaders, who could not resist follow-on opportunities to chastise and snub the Japanese even after Japan’s prime minister backed down and drew fire at home for succumbing to intimidation. And China did not confine itself to diplomatic displays of its displeasure. It barred the sale of rare earth minerals (crucial to the manufacturing of high-tech electronic equipment) to Japan. And despite signals that it was lifting the ban, shipments have not resumed. Beijing seemed unconcerned that other states would be rattled by the ban, given that China accounts for more than 90% of the world’s current supply of this vital raw material.

The second example is the tantrum Beijing threw in October after Chinese human rights activist Liu Xiaobo was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. Liu was vilified as a subversive and a criminal merely for writing a manifesto calling for democracy in China. The leaders of a country touted as the next superpower depicted a frail and sick man whom they had already imprisoned as a dire threat. But there was more. Beijing warned the Norwegian government — which does not decide who gets Nobel Prizes — that its relationship with China could be damaged. And it initiated a campaign, which is ongoing, to browbeat European governments into boycotting the December ceremony in Oslo at which Liu will be honored.

Perhaps China’s loss of poise is temporary. Perhaps its leaders are playing to nationalist galleries at home because socialism no longer stirs popular emotions. (But that is a dangerous game; they may be hard-pressed to de-escalate future crises of a more serious nature.)