Kevin McGeary

    MODERN Western culture has its stories of people who were once unemployed, but went on to become successful. JK Rowling wrote the first Harry Potter book while living off social security. Quentin Tarantino conceived his breakthrough film, “Reservoir Dogs,” also while unemployed. But this does not tell the whole truth of how demeaning — and exhausting — a life without a job can be. As Shakespeare wrote in “The Merchant of Venice:” “You take my life when you take away my means of making a living.”

    It is natural to derive one’s identity from one’s occupation.

    This time last year, in Shenzhen alone, 150,000 graduates descended on the city looking for work. Liu Yi, 22, from Hunan, came to Shenzhen directly after graduating in English from the Hunan University of Arts and Sciences. After a month of searching, she succeeded in finding a job, one that paid her 2,000 yuan (US$308) a month. The salary is enough to live on, but her living quarters explain why her generation has been labeled “ants:” hard-working, tolerant and willing to live in squalor.

    Liu Yi’s story is typical. She and her parents made great sacrifices to get her a tertiary education in the belief that it would give them a better life. Add to that, they are in China, where becoming a government official has, for most of history, required academic success and bookish knowledge. It only added to the embarrassment when it emerged recently that university graduates earn less on average than nannies.

    Moreover, many of these graduates don’t get the opportunity to apply their knowledge to the working environment. For those lucky enough to find work, there is a new set of frustrations. The Chinese job market is a particularly cruel one. The size of the labor force can always drag starting salaries down and, for urban young, a willingness to tolerate poor living conditions is essential. Chen Man, 20, from Sichuan, is also an English major. Her goal is to become a translator, but she is highly unlikely to start on any more than 2,000 yuan a month if she goes to a big city to search for a job. Her career opportunities may also be restricted by her height. At 155 cm, she will find it difficult to get a good job as a translator, because height and beauty requirements are common.

    What of the advantages of this situation? Lack of job security means that one is not trapped on a single career path. Periods of unemployment allow one to be alone with their thoughts. It also means that it is not necessary to set the alarm clock. With long-term job security so hard to come by, is this the dawn of a more flexible, “gig” economy?

    What advice can one give to these young people? Were their years spent in tertiary education wasted?

    In 2004, I was enchanted by an article by the novelist Libby Purves. In the article she argues that the education system does not breed self-confidence. By self-confidence she means thoughtful observation of the real world (not a TV screen), respect for the experience of our elders, an awareness of one’s own ability, and a willingness to go on learning. Is the education system producing confident people?

    There is a famous speech delivered to a graduating class by Hu Shi, then dean of Beijing University in 1932. In it he warns his students, as they enter their adult lives and develop adult concerns, they will find it easy to misplace their childish hunger for knowledge, but they should not.

    He also warns that on entering the cruel and indifferent, so-called real world, they may abandon their dreams and ideals, as at first sight, their ideals may seem incompatible with the real world. But this is also a mistake. A higher education is not the only way of becoming a rounded and successful person, but it has a lot to offer.

    One of China’s most notorious social phenomena is its nouveau riche. Those who have attained wealth without bookish knowledge, and are widely accused of displaying their riches crudely and being responsible for the moral decay in society. Whatever miseries the current generation of graduates have to endure, they should, like Ralph Richardson in “The History Boys,” remember: “All knowledge is precious, whether or not it serves the slightest human use,” and they are the gatekeepers of a traditional culture that Shenzhen Daily columnist Wu Guangqiang thinks is in decline.

    It is not the best time in history to be graduating in China, but with some real confidence as defined above, this year’s graduates can make the best of their gatekeeper status. What advice would I give to a graduating student? I would borrow a quote from Bertrand Russell: “The secret to happiness is to accept the fact that the world is horrible.”

    (The author is a Shenzhen Daily senior copy editor and writer.)