China’s postgraduate boom will not solve underemployment crisis

Last summer, Chinese universities produced a record 8.74 million graduates, an increase of 400,000 from the previous year. But the economic downturn amid the coronavirus pandemic has meant that the employment market has not expanded to accommodate them.

One recent graduate I know sent out scores of résumés in June but received no responses whatsoever. Accordingly, he decided to join most of his former classmates – and millions of other recent Chinese graduates – in taking entrance exams required for postgraduate study. Some universities have recorded huge rises in postgraduate applications, with numbers up by as much as 70 per cent.

But the overproduction problem is not confined to domestic graduates. A graduate of hotel management from Purdue University, for instance, has been back in China for the past six months, living at home in a regional capital serving lattes in a small coffee shop; she wants to go back to school in the US to do a postgraduate programme in management. A Harvard University anthropology graduate has been doing digital marketing and social media work for the Chinese Academy of Sciences in Shanghai; she too is wondering if she should do a doctorate overseas as a way out.

You might object that these students are already overeducated for their current roles, but their perception of higher education as a safe haven from the problems of the labour market is in line with Chinese government policy. Since July, the Ministry of Education has rolled out a series of policies to help graduates. Graduates have been offered guidance to find non-graduate jobs and encouraged to enlist in the army. Companies have been urged to offer internships to current students as well as recent graduates. And firms have been prompted to expand recruitment, especially via online channels. If all that comes to nought, graduates are being encouraged to enrol for postgraduate study.

Yet a period of postgraduate study is not likely to boost young people’s employability unless universities do a better job of preparing them for the workplace. Chinese universities are not as focused as they could be on their assumed role of equipping workers with the skills and knowledge required by the economy and society. Currently, most Chinese graduates leave university with little work experience except for Chinese Communist Party organisation or activities related to students’ unions or associations. And despite the party’s tight control over curricula, many courses remain traditional and non-vocational.

Moreover, Chinese universities take no interest in finding jobs for their graduates; this has always been considered a family responsibility. It is true that there is a student careers centre on every campus, and career-planning seminars are organised. However, the instruction is often conducted by the local party secretary. Such figures are there to provide political oversight of the university, and their advice on job-seeking does not always bear a close relation to the realities of life after graduation. Students are often better off seeking advice from online question-and-answer communities such as Zhihu.

Universities need to do more to link their curricula to modern workplace practices and to give their students sound professional experience and advice by establishing links with outside corporations. For instance, students of art and design should be asked to design projects for companies so that they can acquire practical knowledge of trends in the market and the requirements of the customers.

And instead of organising student activities, undergraduates should be encouraged to co-organise events with, say, overseas chambers of commerce or local employers. In this way, they would gain an idea of how the real workplace functions and what they need to do to thrive in it.

It would also make sense for Chinese universities to invite successful alumni to provide professional mentoring or give talks on the workplace and the employment market – perhaps encouraging a long-term commitment from them by offering them a credential in return.

And universities could directly boost employment. They could invite cafe businesses on to campus in return for employing their students. They could offer their students junior academic positions, such as teaching or lab assistantships. And they could encourage entrepreneurialism among their students by facilitating connections with fellow entrepreneurs and interested financiers.

In this way, going back to study would make more sense, not only for the government and universities, but also for the students themselves.

Sabrina Y. Wang is a consulting educator specialising in college test preparation.