“Ant Tribe”: Struggling college graduates in China

 

On a freezing cold day with a temperature of 3°F, a member of Ant Tribe boarded a bus in Tangjialing on her way to work in central Beijing

They sleep in boxy rooms crammed into dingy low-rises and spend hours commuting to work on crowded buses as part of a trend of poorer white-collar workers being forced to the fringes of China’s wealthiest cities.
Some say these struggling college graduates who swarm out of their cramped accommodations and head to work in the urban sprawl each morning are reminiscent of worker insects in a colony. Not surprisingly, they are often referred to as China’s Ant Tribe (Chinese pronunciation: yǐ zú, Chinese: 蚁族), after the title of a recent book by sociologist Lian Si.

The growing ranks of ‘worker ants’ poses a policy challenge for Beijing’s city leaders as high property prices and dim career prospects thwart the ambitions of many graduates for a comfortable middle-class lifestyle.

In Tangjialing, a dusty suburban Beijing village laced with dirt roads, college-educated software technician Kong Chao typifies the spartan existence of many such graduates.

“This is hard, but there’s no other way,” said Kong, 24, who is relatively fortunate as he has a toilet and cooking area in his cramped room and doesn’t have to share with other tenants.

Kong pays 550 yuan ($81) a month in rent, about 10 percent of his monthly wage. A similar room in a central area of Beijing would eat up most of his salary.

“You see what a crowded city Beijing is,” he said. “We younger people all come to seek work. But we can take it.”

The population of 20-something jobless or underemployed college graduates struggling to live on the cheap has been estimated by the state-run China Daily newspaper to reach about a million, with 10 percent in Beijing.

GLUT OF STUDENTS

 

The ants’ story began a little over a decade ago, in 1999, when the Chinese government launched an ambitious plan to boost university enrollment by 30% annually. At the time, the country’s factories were suffering from the Asian financial crisis. Planners believed a rise in college rolls would help China transition from a largely export-driven, low-wage manufacturing economy to a more balanced one populated by upwardly mobile white-collar workers.

Undergraduate enrollment quintupled to 20 million students by 2008; last year 6.1 million Chinese earned diplomas, up from 1 million in 1999. But it soon became clear there weren’t enough suitable jobs for these freshly minted graduates. Beijing has slashed college enrollment growth to 5% annually.

Due to the glut of job seekers and the financial crisis, companies in popular cities such as Beijing have slashed monthly wages from between 50 to 100 percent to below 2,000 yuan in some cases, workers say.

Some experts suggest the government should divert young professionals into second-tier cities such as Chengdu and Xiamen to take pressure off Beijing and Shanghai.

LIVING IN FARM HOUSES

For now, educated workers live in tiny rooms carved out of lean-to farm houses or in low-rise flats outside urban job centers because they cannot afford to rent a private flat.

In the evenings in Tangjialing, whose population has swelled to 50,000 from 3,000 before the rise of “ants” about two years ago, tenants hang laundry, socialize at greasy diners and use cheap Internet cafes.

“They’re mostly from other parts of China, so their parents aren’t at their side to help,” noted Mou Jianmin, who follows the trend as head of a cultural promotion firm in Beijing.

With millions of migrant workers having been laid off from coastal manufacturing hubs during the financial crisis, Chinese authorities have been trying to create more jobs in China’s less developed interior to absorb this surplus labor, with increasing numbers of workers choosing to stay at home.
One pressure valve, however, may be to encourage graduates to move to cities in China’s hinterland where they would have a better chance of buying their own home and could contribute to the government’s efforts to stimulate these local economies.

For now, though, in Tangjialing, many residents such as high-tech company salesman Li Xingshen, want to stay and claw their way up. Li recently traded a 200-yuan room for a more comfortable 500-yuan one with a private toilet.

But this modest step up is all he can afford for now.

“If I lived in an actual flat, that would cost 1,000 yuan, then I’m out of money,” Li said.

“Ant Tribe”: Struggling college graduates in China