When a senior Baidu communications executive’s glorification of China’s grueling work culture led to public outcry and ultimately her resignation earlier this year, it reignited a debate about the dire situation facing China’s youth. With poorer job prospects and more uncertainty, the feeling that success is unattainable for most, and unsustainable for those who do achieve it, has steadily grown.
This has led to a number of peculiar trends. For example, the widely written about idea of “lying flat” emerged in 2021 to embody a philosophy of stepping out of this system by doing the bare minimum or quitting and leading a slower life away from the big city. Furthermore, the phrase “don’t buy property; don’t buy a car; don’t get married; don’t have children; and don’t consume” has also become popular. More recently, young people have taken to mimicking birds on social media as a symbolic gesture of their desire to be free from worries (“can’t find a job after graduation, might as well be a bird”).
But the reasons behind these trends go far beyond burnout, rejection of the working environment, or sheer laziness.
Beginning to understand today’s urban youth – and finding the right solutions – requires taking a step back and looking at China’s larger socioeconomic context. For the past few decades China’s economy grew at lightning speed with post-1978 reforms transforming the economy. In 2010, just before today’s younger generations entered university or the job market, China’s annual GDP growth was still at 10.6 percent. Anything seemed possible as millions of Chinese saw those who worked hard prosper, whether it was a laborer sending money back home or entrepreneurship flourishing.
With this economic miracle, a highly structured view of success emerged, one that was easy to prescribe and follow. The ideal path for those who wanted a better life than their parents’ was clearly traced: years of brutal preparation for the “gaokao” (China’s final high school exam that defines university placement), entry into a top university, followed by the attainment of a white collar job, an apartment, and a romantic partner in one of China’s first-tier cities. The belief was that hard work and “struggle” provided the sure path to stability, success, and happiness.
This is the reality that a generation of parents grew up with and the dominant dictum today’s youth have continued to be raised under – even though the context has changed dramatically. GDP growth has increasingly normalized since 2010 (in 2023 it was just over 5 percent), and recent events such as global instability and a pandemic, coupled with domestic factors like broader state control over the economy and a slump in the property sector (once a major driver of economic growth) have further impacted these economic conditions.
With so many highly educated university graduates, competition for top jobs has become incredibly fierce. At the same time, labor markets have become less flexible, with higher rates of youth unemployment and lay-offs in historically popular sectors, such as in tech and a number of overseas companies and banks. Overall, income inequality has increased and is at its highest level since the beginning of official records in 1985.
This dynamic has led to a growing tension with the realization that in today’s context, struggle no longer guarantees success – yet it is impossible to escape. Years of the official narrative urging people to pursue prosperity has left Chinese youth with an unshakable mindset to always aim to “level up.” At the same time, youth are starting to realize that this “leveling up” does not really lead to progress.
It is a predicament that is best captured by the popular term “neijuan” (内卷, involution), a term borrowed from anthropology, which in this context expresses a feeling of busy-ness without progress, “an endless cycle of self-flagellation, feeling as if you’re running in place.” The term has been used to describe everything from the economy to motherhood, becoming the catchphrase of all suffering. Ranked as one of the top 10 most popular internet slang words in 2020, “neijuan” is once again making a comeback, as usage spiked in the second quarter of 2024.
The discussion around “neijuan” reveals that China’s youth have not become passive or given up; rather, they are trying to do their best in a rigid and often unforgiving structure. A youth panel recently conducted by market research firm Inner Chapter in Shanghai, for example, showed that self-development remains top-of-mind for youths. The study, which was conducted across multiple tiered cities and across generations, revealed that Gen Z spends more time on personal interests (33 percent) and self-development (31 percent) than time with friends (22 percent) and partners (15 percent). Self-development is also the top area of future focus (35 percent) for Gen Z in the coming six months. However, the same Gen Z participants also ranked well-being as their most important value, highlighting a tension between the needs of continual progress and restful enjoyment.
Traditionally, some kind of balance may have been achieved by taking up a government or other high-paying white collar job, where steady career growth is guaranteed, leaving headspace for other things. Since the set path has grown shaky, youth must find their own way to achieve balance and a quality life.
One instance is the exodus of youth from first-tier cities to lower-tier ones where the costs of both living and business are more manageable. This has caused a boom in businesses like trendy cafes and restaurants as youth bring their global lifestyle back to their hometown.
For example, “What and three” is a cafe opened by a 24-year-old in Heze, a third-tier city in Shandong. The owner shared her success story on social media to encourage more youth entrepreneurship. “No job at 24, I opened a shop making 60K a month,” proclaims a video on Xiaohongshu.
Similarly, youth are turning to “self-media” (individually operated social accounts with self-produced content such as vlogs or Douyin short videos) in an attempt to bridge their passion, leisure time, and work/income. As of 2021, there were 9.7 million individuals working in self-media in China, either full time or part time commitment.
While these coping mechanisms allow Chinese youth to navigate the current landscape, not resolving the underlying contradiction between the dominant model of success and the reality for many Chinese youth has negative implications for China. Fostering a resilient, capable, and creative workforce is key to Xi Jinping’s vision of turning China into a self-reliant science and technology powerhouse.
Official reactions to these trends have been dismissive at best, with a push for continued “struggle” to achieve prosperity. For example, in 2021, one party newspaper noted that “struggle is always the brightest base color of youth” and that “choosing to ‘lie flat’ is not only unjust, but shameful.”
Instead of looking down on the malaise of China’s youth, official structures should find ways of supporting youth and leveraging their incredible creative energy – as some cities such as Chengdu have done, leveraging its reputation as a creative and coffee shop hub. Not resolving these contradictions will only lead to growing tensions and social stress, with rising rates of psychological issues such as anxiety and depression.
The same goes for companies. After examining the predicament of today’s Chinese youth, it’s evident that the gung-ho attitude of the ex-Baidu exec rings tone-deaf. Instead of breaking talented young workers, companies should support and foster their teams. Companies also have the opportunity to step up where social structures have fallen short. They can sponsor community learning clubs and hold competitions (entrepreneurial, sporting, creative, or otherwise) to support the ambitions of youth, giving brilliant young minds a platform rather than only promoting key opinion leaders.
China’s youth are not passive or lazy; they want to better themselves. They simply need healthier avenues, mentors, and role models, a gap that companies can help to fill to truly connect with the next generation.
In conclusion, China’s youth face a tense societal contradiction between traditional success models and current economic realities, leading to a struggle for balance in an unforgiving environment. To support its youth and foster innovation, China must address these contradictions and nurture creativity and resilience. Lower-tier cities may offer new opportunities, but broader structural changes are needed. Recognizing and adapting to the needs of young people is crucial for their well-being and the nation’s future growth, ensuring a resilient and innovative workforce for years to come.