When China's Top Graduates Enter the Civil Service
Four Stories of Adaptation, Struggle, and the Search for Meaning
In recent years, an increasing number of elite university graduates have chosen to enter the civil service system in pursuit of “stable employment.” On the other hand, many post-1990s graduates, having grown up in relative abundance, seek personal fulfillment beyond economic rewards—some aspire to stability and tranquility, while others harbor ideals of doing meaningful work at the grassroots level. Meanwhile, many of China’s top universities have made civil service examination success a key performance indicator, partnering with training institutions to offer “customized courses,” while government internship opportunities have become highly competitive.
However, when these elite graduates with high expectations actually step into government agencies, what is their real experience? I’ve found an interesting study on this topic. Through in-depth interviews with four young civil servants who have worked in the system for one to two years, researchers found the gap between pre-employment career expectations and workplace reality, and examined how they cope with this disconnect. I believe this article effectively captures how young Chinese officials view their work and how different types of elite Chinese youth perceive the sense of purpose in working within the system. This article Imagining the Workplace: Individual Decision-Making Narratives from Elite University Graduates to 'System Insiders'” 想象职场:从一流高校毕业生到 '体制人' 的个体决策叙事, was first published on Youth Exploration, 2025 Edition 2.
The authors are Professor Lin Xiaoying and Tan Xinyi. Professor Lin is an Associate Professor at Peking University’s Institute of Economics of Education, where she also serves as Director of the Department of Educational Administration and Policy and Director of the Center for Qualitative Studies in Education.
Below is a summary; the original article translation is attached at the end of this episode.
Four Representative Profiles
The study selected four representative cases whose experiences form a complete spectrum from “full adaptation” to “desperate desire to escape.”
Zhao Xiaoli represents the “well-prepared” insider. After working in journalism for two years, he pursued graduate studies at a top-tier university driven by a strong ideal of social investigation, but dissatisfaction with corporate work led him to firmly choose the civil service. Unlike others, he entered government not for stability or salary, but because he believed that “compared to being a journalist, working directly in government offers both the opportunity to understand problems and the power to drive solutions.” Despite heavy workload and trivial matters, he fully understands and embraces the value of this work, even consciously preparing himself to “accept gradual anonymity, with personal value closely tied to the organizational platform.” For him, so-called menial tasks like “serving tea and formatting documents” are “routine—doesn’t every job start this way?” With prior work experience, he quickly found and settled into his position, viewing the character for “servant 仆” in civil servant as “vivid, appropriate, and thought-provoking.”
Qian Xiaoshuang represents another type of adapter—comfortable contentment under “inherited will.” As an anthropology graduate, he faced limited job prospects in his field and was influenced by both parents working within the system, leading him to plan early for a government career. His social media showcases glamorous experiences as secretary to overseas delegations at high-level conferences, but he admits, “I post these only to meet friends’ and parents’ expectations of civil service prestige; the actual work is tedious and trivial.” For him, “the internet thrives on motivational hype, but the system? The system relies on Party spirit, conscience, and political positioning,” while his life ambition is simply to “eat well and live well.” Though his identification with the position is weak, having entered the workforce at a young age, he self-deprecatingly considers meeting basic needs sufficient, living relatively comfortably and contentedly.
Sun Xiaohua’s story is filled with the sense of being “pushed by fate.” She originally planned to enter the internet platform but applied for government positions, “going with the flow,” and unexpectedly secured a selective transfer(选调生, elite university graduates chosen for a fast-track program to cultivate future leadership talent within the Chinese government.) opportunity that satisfied everyone. This sudden, naive choice shaped her understanding of civil service work as equally conformist—stable, relaxed, low-paying, fulfilling public service ideals. Reality, however, proved to be frequent overtime and constant busyness. Early in her job, she experienced rotation, juggling work from both departments while pleasing neither, causing intense stress. After several months, she realized this overtime differed from student-era evening study sessions where one “actually learned something”; instead, it meant “heavy workload, high repetition, low self-efficacy, meaningless overtime.” She once considered pursuing a PhD abroad to enjoy freedom, but felt she had accomplished nothing since graduation and lacked the courage to escape. As a young woman who loves life, she seeks balance within limited space—buying shirts in various colors, skirts of different styles, assorted bow ties and brooches, trying to “flourish” in the cracks between work and life, barely keeping pace with peers.
Li Xiaoyi is the one most desperate to escape. A new media master’s graduate, he ultimately chose stable government work over high-paying internet jobs, driven more by “parental obedience” or “unlocking life experiences.” Skilled in social media management, he expertly maintains separate “front and back stages”—public content displays beautiful workplace imagery, while his close friends’ circle is filled with complaints about overtime and work: “Third day of the holiday still at the office. Summary of workplace grievances: investment banking hours, student assistant responsibilities, minimum wage income.” More frequent are his “escape declarations”: “Dreamed I interviewed and joined an internet company, wished I could wake up and go to work immediately—changing jobs is etched in my bones.” His resignation intentions evolved from “I’ll tough it out until 28 when I get housing allocation” to “I’ll wait out the five-year service requirement” to finally “Forget the service period, can’t stay another day.” He compares his work in the system to “performing in a murder mystery game playing a character,” believing “seeing my department head’s lifestyle, I can basically picture myself in twenty or thirty years—I don’t want such a predictable life.”
The Vast Gap Between Ideal and Reality
Before entering the system, these elite graduates envisioned a reasonable workload, guaranteed personal time, above-average income, comprehensive benefits, and respected social status. Upon actually starting work, however, they discovered tedious yet high-intensity job content, significant psychological gaps regarding actual compensation and benefits, and uncertain promotion pathways that undermined confidence in long-term commitment.
Li Xiaoyi found that “in the internet sector, capability speaks; here, capability isn’t the priority.” Qian Xiaoshuang discovered through comparison that “current work hours, including weekend overtime, are even more exhausting than in the internet companies.” For elite graduates, high educational credentials brought high expectations—a double-edged sword. Sun Xiaohua frankly admits: “People think with my credentials I should excel at this position, that my output must be high quality, but I can’t deliver, which puts enormous pressure on me.” Low-value work content and inefficient work methods cause many to gradually lose professional skills and learning capacity.
Deeper Causes of the Gap
The study finds that the agency of career choice profoundly influences individual perception and adaptation to work. Active choosers like Zhao Xiaoli and Qian Xiaoshuang had clear understanding of the system before employment, so their impressions tend to be confirmed and sustained. Passive choosers like Sun Xiaohua and Li Xiaoyi had only vague imaginings of the system, often “pushed by fate” into accidental entry, requiring difficult processes of reconstructing expectations.
Another critical factor is the “information barrier.” Li Xiaoyi points out: “Before selecting positions, you have no idea what this position or department actually does, because you’re not an insider.” Unlike the “transparency” of the internet and corporate work, government work is often shrouded in mystery due to confidential content and inaccessible work experiences. These insider-only, unspoken realities deliver a harsh awakening to newcomers entering the system.
Stay or Leave
As the “gap” between career imagination and workplace reality becomes established fact, these “insiders” diverge in their paths of action. Though Sun Xiaohua has considered leaving, her resistance to current work stems more from dissatisfaction with circumstances than rejection of the work’s intrinsic value. As the benefits of the “iron rice bowl铁饭碗” begin to manifest, she gradually seeks self-reconciliation, relieving pressure through conversations with others while actively acquiring knowledge and skills to adapt to the system’s rhythm and cultivate “government thinking.” She chooses to stay, at least for the short term.
Li Xiaoyi differs—he maintains firm resignation intentions and takes concrete action. Deeply aware of his career values and life plans, he shows clear preference for corporate work and repeatedly expresses disapproval of government work’s underlying logic. He fears that the longer he stays in the system, the narrower his future options become, viewing continued service as an increasingly disciplining process that will eventually render him completely unable to enter the market.
Insights and Reflections
These elite “system insiders” share distinct group characteristics: young, generally high-caliber, exclusively from China’s top-tier universities, thoroughly obedient and studious from campus to “iron rice bowl.” Entering the system through selective transfer programs, they possess excellent starting foundations and generally stand out quickly. But here, they must continually “de-skill” to enhance “system-specific expertise,” mastering the system’s unwritten rules.
For those from “the best schools,” the “iron rice bowl” may be a carefully considered “second-best solution,” but life isn’t a problem with a single correct answer. Some quickly adjust and adapt, treating the system’s institutional environment as a means to achieve their desired lifestyle; others plan to “derail” onto new tracks. They self-identify as “river clam youth,” “oscillating between extremes of ‘lying flat’躺平 and ‘Involution内卷,’” attempting self-rationalization through constant “sit-ups.”
This study reveals Chinese elite youth employment choices. It’s far more complicated than “everyone wants to be a civil servant.” How to help disillusioned individuals within the “bowl” adapt to the gap and reduce trial-and-error costs, and how the system can better identify those suited to it, are questions worthy of more consideration.
Below is the translated whole article made with the help of AI:
More to read:
Lian Si on "Involution" and "De-involution" of Chinese Youth
After weeks of intense Two Sessions, I finally had a chance to work on readings about Chinese youth. It's particularly noteworthy that the Chinese government has announced intentions to address the problem of overtime work. Since 2015, average working hours in China have steadily increased, a trend that even the pandemic has been powerless to reverse.