A first-hand account of the youth unemployment uprisings that swept China in 2022
Involution is the first book to present a detailed account of how the people coming of age in China’s post-miracle moment navigate job searches, exploitation, educational competition, and familial pressures. Using interviews with young people who participated in the 2022 protests against China’s extreme youth unemployment, this fascinating book shows how people in their early 20s struggle to survive while trying to maintain their dignity, sense of self, and agency amid economic crisis. Based on extensive research carried out in various cities across China, the Gonglao Collective presents a clear portrait of a new generation wracked by anxiety, ennui, and myriad social grievances.
I received the advance copy from the publisher Verso Books through NetGalley.
Unemployment rate among young Chinese university graduates is high. I won’t share any data on this, though, because the Chinese government stopped making such data available a few years ago to not scare people. Everyone in China knows the situation is grim, especially for graduates of low-ranked universities and study programmes.
“Involution. A Worker Inquiry Amid China’s Youth Unemployment Wave” by Gonglao Collective is an attempt to register the mood of young people in various parts of the country who struggle on the job market. Gonglao Collective was created by activists in 2022, aiming to collect information and do nationwide research about workers. The book comprises several insightful interviews with various young university graduates who share their experiences and feelings about work and the job market.
All respondents finished universities which are not part of 985 and 212 universities (names of projects that strengthen and encompass elite Chinese universities). Some completed good programmes but still struggle to find meaningful work. Work conditions in many Chinese enterprises are abhorrent, salaries are low and candidates are often overqualified for the jobs that are available to them. Connections are vital for many to secure a well-paid or stable role. The interviewees work at schools, factories, ordinary companies, massage parlours, and various other places, often unrelated to their majors. They talk about various trends: lying flat (躺平) - opting out of the rat race, seeking employment as a civil servant, runology (润学) - immigration as a way to escape China’s brutal competition and pressure to succeed. The economy is bad, pessimism high, and most young people don’t even dream about getting married and having children.
This readable, highly accessible book is a brilliant perspective to balance some hyperpositive narratives about China shown on social media. It doesn’t present abject poverty or accounts of people without perspectives. It depicts the mood and the reality of ordinary citizens with education and potential, robbed of opportunities and failed by the system, fooled by the government and empty promises of employers.
“Involution” is, according to the definition provided by Google’s AI [insert irony emoji here], "a self-defeating cycle where intense competition and increased individual effort yield diminishing returns. Instead of leading to overall growth or innovation, participants are forced to work harder and undercut each other merely to maintain their current position, resulting in a race to the bottom."
In May 2020, Chinese Premier Li Keqiang stated that 600 million Chinese—over 40% of the nation’s population—get by on $4K or less a year. Then, in 2021, Li’s boss President Xi Jinping triumphantly declared that China had eliminated poverty!
Turns out, the quickest way to eliminate poverty is to change its definition.
The Chinese Communist Party now defines poverty-level wages as about $2.30/day, or about $840/year. Compare this to the U.S., where the government defines poverty-level wages as $33,000 for a family of four or $15,960 for a single person. (In the U.S., the median daily income is $239/day, or about one hundred times what it is for the poorest Chinese citizens.)
Although China is the world’s newest leader in technological developments, many of those developments include automatized performance of jobs formerly done by humans. And despite China’s many dazzling technical achievements and ranking as the world’s second biggest economy, it still has more people than it has jobs for—include those with college degrees.
A few years ago, the national rise in youth unemployment was so high and sustained (an estimated 20% minimum) that the government didn’t even bother to redefine the category for economic reports. Instead, it eliminated it.
Since 2007, I’ve taught about a dozen times at Shanghai Jiao Tong University (SJTU) (online during the pandemic). SJTU is a “Project 985” university—the official list of China’s elitest schools— which also includes Fudan, Beijing, and Tsinghua Universities. Project 985 universities typically accept only those students scoring in the top 0.5%-2.0% of the notoriously difficult gaokao exam. About 13 million high school seniors take this college entrance exam each year.
When I first taught at SJTU in 2007, I had a TA I’ll call Andrea. Andrea is the only representative I’ve met (that I’m aware of) of a tiny elite. Of the tiny percentage who qualify to enter any of the Project 985 universities are students who do so well that SJTU will pay their tuition. Of that subset is another, consisting of students who do so well on the gaokao that they will not be required to take a subsequent graduate school exam, and their tuition will be paid for grad school, as well. That was Andrea, and I use her as an example to my U.S. students who think because they’ve been admitted to a top-ranked U.S. university, they’re all that.
A few weeks into semester, Andrea asked if it would be OK if she changed her office hours, since she had just landed an internship. I told her that of course it would be OK to change her office hours, and I asked her to tell me more about this internship. Well, first off, it was with an American company, which of all countries doing business in China, has a reputation for being among the best paying. Andrea was wrapping up her MS in wireless technology and putting her knowledge to use for Dow Chemical. When she told me that Dow was paying her 20 RMB an hour (a little under $3/hour), my head exploded. So, I tell my U.S. students, if an employer is looking for somebody who is fluent in English with an engineering degree from a top-ranked university—they don’t have to come to you. Her wages were as unfair to her as they were to the American engineers whose own salaries were threatened by what Andrea was thrilled to receive.
China’s workers may be America’s canaries in a coalmine.
Involution: A Worker Inquiry Amid China's Youth Unemployment Wave consists of detailed testimonies from several 20-somethings who describe their difficulty in finding employment. A former student of mine who works for Google in Shanghai, who occasionally gives my seniors lectures on what employers are looking for, tells students to not hold their breath hoping that anybody will pay them more than 10K RMB/month (a little under $17K/yr). Of the college graduates interviewed in this book (include those with master’s degrees), wages of 2,000-7,000 RMB/month) are far more common.
Besides low pay are long hours. Involution’s interviewees dread “996”jobs—that’s 9 a.m. to 9 p.m., six days a week. But many of these young people don’t want work that absorbs their entire lives, no matter how well they pay. Although young adults want to cultivate time they can spend with friends, family, and self, they can only do so by finding jobs limited to 40 hours a week, which are almost uniformly low paying. A life of reduced stress comes at a cost: Forced economizing and an inability to save enough to buy an apartment, marry, and have children. These young people seem fine avoiding a life of acquisition, but they don’t understand why just living must be so relentlessly difficult.