On the morning of 1 May, staff at DJI’s flagship retail store in Beijing’s Guomao business district began clearing drones from the shelves. The Neo, the Mavic, the Mini, every model that had made DJI the most dominant consumer electronics brand in its category, all of it pulled from display. The store was not closing. It was complying with a new regulation, approved by Beijing’s legislature in March, that bans the sale, rental, and transport of drones into China’s capital. E-commerce platforms including Taobao and JD.com halted drone shipments to Beijing the same day. Inside the city’s Sixth Ring Road, an urban zone covering roughly 2,288 square kilometres, residents are now barred from storing more than three drones or ten core components at a single address without government approval. Every drone owner in Beijing had until 30 April to register their devices with local police, complete a 30-minute exam on an official app, and verify their identity. Unregistered drones are now illegal to possess.

Five months earlier and 11,000 kilometres away, the United States Federal Communications Commission added DJI and all other foreign-made drones to its Covered List, a national security designation that blocks new devices from receiving the FCC equipment authorisation required for legal sale in America. DJI says 25 new products planned for the US market in 2026 are now frozen, representing approximately $1.5 billion in lost revenue. The company filed a lawsuit in the Ninth Circuit in February, calling the FCC’s action procedurally flawed and unconstitutional. The case is active. No resolution is in sight.

DJI, the company that invented the modern consumer drone and controls between 54 and 80 per cent of the global market depending on the segment, can now sell its products in neither Washington nor Beijing.

The Beijing logic

The Beijing regulations are comprehensive in a way that goes beyond flight restrictions. The entire lifecycle of drone ownership is now controlled: purchase, transport, storage, registration, flight, and disposal. All outdoor drone flights within Beijing’s jurisdiction require prior approval from authorities. Individuals who fly without approval face fines of up to 10,000 yuan, roughly $1,460, and confiscation of the device. Storage violations carry fines of up to 5,000 yuan for individuals and 10,000 yuan for companies. Drones and key components cannot be transported into the city without permission and can only be carried by registered owners who have verified themselves with police.

The official justification is security. Beijing is the political centre of China, home to the Communist Party’s leadership compound at Zhongnanhai, the Great Hall of the People, military installations, and government ministries. Drone incursions over sensitive sites have increased globally, and the regulations reflect a calculation that the security risk of uncontrolled consumer drones in a capital city outweighs the commercial and recreational value they provide.

Online reaction was sharp. Users on Chinese social media described the rules as a “crazy one-size-fits-all system.” Drone dealers across mainland China reported sharp drops in April sales as consumers hesitated to buy equipment they might not legally be able to use. Used drone listings surged on Chinese resale platforms as Beijing residents attempted to offload devices before the registration deadline. China has demonstrated a willingness to regulate its own technology sector aggressively, from blocking foreign acquisitions to imposing mandatory AI content labelling standards. The drone ban fits a pattern in which Beijing prioritises state security over commercial freedom, even when the commercial casualty is a Chinese company.

The Washington logic

The American ban operates on a different mechanism but arrives at a similar result. Under the National Defense Authorization Act, Congress required a US national security agency to complete a formal review of DJI by 23 December 2025. No agency completed the review before the deadline. The automatic consequence was DJI’s addition to the FCC Covered List, which blocks new products from receiving the authorisation needed for import and sale. Existing DJI drones that already have FCC approval remain legal to own and operate. New models cannot enter the market.

The FCC framed the action as safeguarding American airspace ahead of the 2026 FIFA World Cup, the America250 celebrations, and the 2028 Los Angeles Summer Olympics. The Pentagon has cited classified intelligence in supporting the designation, though DJI argues that no specific security threat tied to its products has been publicly identified. The pattern of Western governments restricting Chinese technology companies on national security grounds has expanded from Huawei’s exclusion from 5G networks to a broader category that now includes drones, connected vehicles, and AI models.

DJI’s $1.5 billion estimated loss breaks down to approximately $700 million from FCC authorisations set aside for 14 existing products and $860 million from 25 new products that cannot be launched. The company maintains that its products do not transmit data to the Chinese government and that it has offered to undergo independent security audits. Neither the FCC nor the Pentagon has accepted the offer.

The contradiction

The dual ban exposes a tension in China’s technology policy. Beijing has spent the past two years promoting the “low-altitude economy” as a strategic growth sector, encouraging investment in drones, eVTOL aircraft, and urban air mobility. Provincial governments across China have published targets for low-altitude economic output, and Shenzhen, DJI’s home city, has positioned itself as the national hub for drone manufacturing and innovation. China’s approach to technology governance has increasingly focused on controlling where and how technology is deployed rather than restricting its development.

The Beijing drone ban does not contradict this strategy so much as reveal its limits. The low-altitude economy is welcome in Shenzhen’s factories and in agricultural provinces where DJI’s crop-spraying drones are standard equipment. It is not welcome within visual range of Zhongnanhai. The question is whether the ban will spread. The executive chairman of the China Low-Altitude Economy Alliance has suggested that Beijing’s framework could become a model for other cities. Other governments have shown a willingness to follow restrictive precedents set by larger jurisdictions when security concerns are invoked. If Shanghai, Guangzhou, or Shenzhen adopt similar regulations around security zones or dense urban districts, the commercial impact on DJI would compound significantly.

The squeeze

DJI is privately held, and its exact revenue figures are not public. Industry estimates place its annual global revenue between $4 billion and $5 billion. The US market, where DJI holds roughly 80 per cent of consumer drone sales, has been its most profitable segment per unit. The Beijing market is smaller in absolute terms but symbolically significant: the company’s products are now illegal to sell in its own country’s capital. The European Union has so far held back on restricting Chinese technology companies to the degree the US has, but the political direction is toward tighter controls, not looser ones.

No other technology company of DJI’s scale is simultaneously banned by its home government and its largest foreign market. Huawei faced exclusion from Western 5G networks but remained fully supported by the Chinese state. TikTok faced a ban in the United States but operates freely in China under its domestic brand, Douyin. DJI’s situation is structurally different because the Beijing ban is not aimed at DJI specifically. It is aimed at an entire product category, and DJI happens to be the company that defined it.

The company that put a camera drone in the hands of millions of consumers and filmmakers around the world is now operating in a regulatory environment where the two largest economies on earth have decided, independently and for different reasons, that consumer drones are a security problem. DJI’s technology is not the issue. Its misfortune is to have built the world’s most successful product in a category that both governments have concluded they need to control. The shelves in Guomao are empty. The FCC docket is open. The company that created an industry is waiting to find out whether either of the governments that banned it will change its mind.