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Facing Challenges: China’s Post-90s Generation and Their Employment Market Conundrum

Many of China’s post-90 workers are job-hopping or are suffering from working overtime. Is the pressure on the job market too much to handle for this only-child generation?

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Often considered lazy or fickle, China’s post-90s generation has a bad reputation when it comes to the workplace in China. But there is more than meets the eye. Upon entering the job market, the so-called jiulinghou workers are facing challenges that leave them either job-hopping or dog-tired.

‘Lazy’, ‘spoilt’, ‘pampered’, and ‘selfish’ – just some of the words that surface when you ask many Chinese people about the country’s ‘jiulinghou‘ (九零後), a term that is commonly used to describe those born into China’s new urban middle-class families between 1990 and 1999.

The generational differences between those born after 1970, 1980, and the Chinese born after 1990 have been a topic of discussion on social media for years. The generation gap seems to be especially apparent when it comes to views on work and career, and attitudes in the workplace.

One Weibo netizen recently wrote: “I have a new colleague who was born in the 1990s. The other day, she requested a leave of absence. We asked her what she was going to do. She said ‘I’m just going to get some plastic surgery done, but I’ll be back soon.'”

Last year, one recently graduated male real estate agent made the news when he quit his job because there were “too many women in the workplace”, which “negatively influenced” his personality. His resignation letter went viral shortly after.

A post-90s resignation letter went viral on Weibo.

Another resignation that made its rounds on social media was that of a Hunan female office worker who wrote her employer that she was quitting her job because “winter is too cold”, making it “difficult to get out of bed in the morning.”

The post-90s generation is often considered to be fickle and self-focused in their work. They are generally viewed as bad team players who are much less concerned about hierarchical relations at the workplace than China’s older generations are.

 

NOT ALL ABOUT THE MONEY

“There’s a big gap between what we imagined our work to be and what the reality is.”

 

Are China’s post-90s really that lazy and picky, or are they just tired? According to the song “I’m Dog-Tired” by the Shanghai Rainbow Chamber Singers, it is the latter. The song became an instant hit last year, as it resonated with China’s young professionals who recognized themselves in the lyrics.

The song describes the monolog of person who is caught up in overwork all the time, saying: “I haven’t washed my face for 18 days / I’ve been wearing my 30-day contact lenses for 2,5 years now.”

This Shanghai choir of young professionals scored a hit by voicing their dissatisfaction about working overtime.

But it is not just their everyday work that tires out the young Chinese working population, it’s also the job-hopping they do. According to research by the Mycos Institute, only 40% of China’s post-90s workers stay in their job for longer than two years. Within a time frame of three years, 8% has four or more different jobs.

What is the main problem of the post-90 workers that leads to all this job-hopping and sleepless nights? Is the pressure on China’s job market too much to handle for this only-child generation?

“The biggest obstacle to overcome for me and most of my friends is the fact that there’s a big gap between what we imagined our work to be and what the reality is,” Yue Xin tells What’s on Weibo. Yue did her Bachelor’s at a Shanghai college and recently completed a master’s degree in liberal arts at a British university.

“I read on Weibo the other day that, unlike the post-70s and post-80s generation, China’s young job-seekers prioritize personal happiness and freedom over anything else,” she says: “For many of us, a long-term contract does not feel like a reassurance but like a constraint, which might prevent us from taking on more exciting challenges. It is not all about the money – it is about following our passion.”

 

CHINA’S PRICELESS CHILDREN

“Around 8 million university graduates enter China’s job market each year.”

 

The high job expectations among China’s post-90s workers relate to their position in their families and in society at large. As described by Liu Fengshu (2015) in “The Rise of the ‘Priceless’ Child in China,” the so-called jiulinghou is a one-child generation that was born amidst the rapid socio-economic changes of post-Mao China, which saw a dramatic growth of both wealth and technological developments.

Parents and grandparents have both pampered and pressured these children; not just because it takes more than a high school education to succeed in a society that is changing so quickly, but also because the urban post-90s generation was the first to have access to education and career opportunities in a way their (grand)parents never had. They are therefore also often called the ‘lucky generation’ (幸运的一代).

Editorial cartoon from Chinese media. Left is the post-70s who says |I have to work overtime.” In the middle the post-80s generation saying: “I won’t work overtime.” On the right the post-90 generation saying: “I won’t work at all.”

But all this parental investment has also set the bar high for the future. Around 8 million new university graduates now enter China’s job market each year, but their chances of finding a job that suits their education and personal expectations are slim.

With all their high hopes and graduate diplomas, they are facing a job market mismatch. They often have no working experience and, as they have often spent years studying before entering the employment market, they are not willing to take on jobs with low education requirements.

 

‘LUCKY’ BUT STRESSED

“If any of these requirements are not there, it will be very stressful for us.”

 

Is the jiulinghou being unreasonable in what they expect from their work? A Beijing post-90er nicknamed ‘Pedy’, who teaches Chinese to foreigners at a Chaoyang educational institution, does not think so. She tells What’s on Weibo: “We all just want a job that (1) we find interesting, (2) suits our skills, (3) offers a reasonable salary, (4) is located not too far from where we live, and (5) gives us a sense of success or achievement. If any of these requirements are not there, it will be very stressful for us.”

‘Pedy’ mentions the cost of life in China’s bigger cities as one of the major problems: “The salaries of people just starting out on the job market are generally quite low, while the cost of living in cities like Beijing is very high. But if you live too far from your company, it means spending long and tiring hours crammed in public transport every morning and every evening.”

Because so many people do not find a job that meets their requirements, they either choose to remain jobless for some time to explore their possibilities, or to hop from company to company until they find what they are looking for. Unafraid of losing a job they do not care much for anyway, many of these post-90ers are those who have become known for quitting their job because of the ‘cold weather’ or other seemingly random reasons.

 

THE SO-CALLED ‘DREAM JOB’

“If we do not finish our projects in time, they will subtract an amount from our wages.”

 

Perhaps the biggest challenge faced by China’s well-educated, urban post-90s workers who are entering the employment market is the troubling Catch 22 situation at hand: they will be stressed and pressured if they do not find that top job, but when they do, they are often also stressed and pressured.

When scoring a much-desired job at one of the top companies (such as one of the ‘Big Four’ firms Deloitte, Ernst & Young, PricewaterhouseCoopers/PwC and KPMG), young workers will often do all they can to keep their job. These jobs come with relatively high salaries and future possibilities to higher positions, but they also go hand in hand with long hours and unpaid overwork. Those who refuse to work overtime will be labeled as ‘non-ambitious’ or ‘not loyal enough.’

Beijing resident Li Jiang has a good job that suits his skills, is not too far from home, has a good salary, and offers prospects for further growth. Despite his stable contract, he is used to working over hours and often does not come home until late at night.

“We do not get paid for overtime,” Li says: “But they just give us too much work to handle. If we do not finish our projects in time, they will subtract an amount from our wages, although this is not noted in my contract.”

Although (illegal) overtime may endanger workers’ health due to the excessive long working hours, it is still commonplace in China (Kim & Chung 2016). Over recent years, some stories of young professionals literally working themselves to death – also known by the Japanese term ‘karoshi’ – have made headlines.

In 2011, the story of the 25-year-old PwC auditor Pan Jie went viral on Sina Weibo when doctors concluded that her overwork at the company might have played a crucial role in her death.

Likewise, the behind-the-desk death of a 24-year-old Ogilvy employee in Beijing and the 2016 death of Jin Bo, a deputy editor-in-chief of one of China’s leading online forums, all prompted calls for increased public awareness on the risks of overwork – especially amongs young professionals.

Despite these headlines, Li continues working over hours: “Perhaps it’s in our culture. Nobody wants to be the one leaving first or sticking their heads out to ask about employee rights. Meiyoubanfa, it’s just the way it is.”

Yue Xin from Shanghai has something different in mind for her future. She has received job offers from several companies, but despite “feeling flattered,” none of them met her expectations. She is not lazy or fickle, she says; she is currently just looking for more interesting opportunities and is “following her passions” in Europe.

By Manya Koetse

References

Fengshu Liu. 2016. “The Rise of the “Priceless” Child in China.” Comparative Education Review 60 (1): 105-130.

Kim, S., & Chung, S. 2016. “Explaining Organizational Responsiveness to Emerging Regulatory Pressure: The Case of Illegal Overtime in China.” The International Journal of Human Resource Management 27(18): 2097–2118.

Spotted a mistake or want to add something? Please let us know in comments below or email us.

©2017 Whatsonweibo. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce our content without permission – you can contact us at info@whatsonweibo.com.

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Manya Koetse is the editor-in-chief of www.whatsonweibo.com. She is a writer and consultant (Sinologist, MPhil) on social trends in China, with a focus on social media and digital developments, popular culture, and gender issues. Contact at manya@whatsonweibo.com, or follow on Twitter.

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What Are Weibo’s “Super Topics”?

Explaining Weibo’s “Super Topics”

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What are Weibo’s “Super Topics” (超级话题) and what makes them different from normal hashtags?

Over the past year, Weibo’s so-called “Super Topics” (超级话题) have become more popular on the social media platform as online spaces for people to connect and share information.

Weibo’s “super topic” function has been around since 2016. The function allows Weibo users to create and join interest-based content community pages that are online groups separated from the main Weibo space. One could perhaps compare these Weibo Super Groups to ‘mega-threads’ or ‘subreddits’ on Reddit.

These are the most important things to know about Weibo’s Super Topics:

 

#1 A Super Topic is Not the Same as a Hashtag

Similar to Twitter, hashtags make it possible for Weibo users to tag a topic they are addressing in their post so that their content pops up whenever other people search for that hashtag.

Different from Twitter, Weibo hashtags also have their own page where the hashtag is displayed on top, displaying how many people have viewed the hashtag, how many comments the hashtag is tagged in, and allowing users to share the hashtag page with others.

A Super Topic goes beyond the hashtag. It basically is a community account where all sort of information is shared and organized. People can ‘follow’ (关注) a Super Topic and can also ‘sign in’ (签到).

On the main page of every Super Topic page, the main subject or purpose of the super topic is briefly explained, and the number of views, followers, and posts are displayed.

A super topic-page can be created by any Weibo user and can have up to three major hosts, and ten sub-hosts. The main host(s) can decide which content will be featured as essential, they can place sticky notes, and post links to suggested topics.

 

#2 A Super Topic Is a Way to Organize Content

Super Topic pages allow hosts to organize relevant content in the way they want. Besides the comment area, the page consists of multiple tabs.

A tab right underneath the main featured information on the page, for example, shows the “sticky posts” (置顶帖) that the host(s) of the page have placed there, linking to relevant information or trending hashtag pages. Below the sticky notes, all the posts posted in the Super Topic community are displayed.

One of the most important tabs within the Super Topic page is called “essential content” (精花), which only shows the content that is manually selected by the host(s). This is often where opinion pieces, articles, official news, or photos, etc. are collected and separated from all the other posts.

Another tab is the “Hall of Fame” (名人堂), which mainly functions as a reference page. It features links to the personal Weibo pages of the super topic page host(s), links to the Weibo pages of top contributors, and shows a list of the biggest fans of the Super Topic. Who the biggest fan of the page is, is decided by the number of consecutive days a person has “checked-in” on the page.

 

#3 Super Topics Are a Place for Fans to Gather

Although a Super Topic could basically be about anything, from cities to products or hobbies, Super Topics are often created for Chinese celebrities, video games, football clubs, or TV dramas.

Through Super Topic pages, a sense of community can be created. People can be ranked for being the most contributive or for checking in daily, and comment on each other’s posts, making it a home base for many fan clubs across China.

The host(s) can also help somebody’s page (e.g. a celebrity account) grow by proposing them to others within the group.

Super Groups are ranked on Weibo based on their popularity. This also gives fans more reason to stay active in the group, making their Super Topic top ranking within their specific category (TV drama, food, photography, sports, games, etc).

What makes the Super Topic group more ‘private’ than the common Weibo area, is that people posting within the Super Topic can decide whether or not they also want their comment shared on their own Weibo page or not. If they choose not to, their comments or posts will only be visible within the Super Topic community.

 

By Manya KoetseGabi Verberg, with contributions from Boyu Xiao

Spotted a mistake or want to add something? Please let us know in comments below or email us.

©2019 Whatsonweibo. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce our content without permission – you can contact us at info@whatsonweibo.com

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Why Trump Has Two Different Names in Chinese

Why does ‘Trump’ have multiple names in Chinese?

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First published , updated version published March 7, 2019

It is confusing even for Chinese netizens and journalists: why does Donald Trump have multiple names in Chinese? And which is the right one to use? What’s on Weibo explains.

Donald Trump has two most commonly used different names in Chinese. In Mandarin*, they are Tèlǎngpǔ (特朗普) and Chuānpǔ (川普). Both names have been used by Chinese mainstream media and netizens for years.

*(Due to the scope of this article, we’ll just use the Mandarin pinyin here.)

In the Chinese translation of Donald Trump’s autobiography The Art of the Deal (1987), the ‘Tèlǎngpǔ’ transliteration is used, whereas the translation of the George Ross book Trump-Style Negotiations (2008) uses ‘Chuānpǔ’ as the Chinese name for Trump.

Considering that Trump is making headlines every day, more people are wondering why Trump has two Chinese names, and which one is the correct name to use. There are even discussions about the topic on Chinese social media.

 

Why are foreign names translated?

 

Why are non-Chinese names actually translated into Chinese at all? With English and Chinese being such vastly different languages with entirely different phonetics and script, the majority of Chinese people will find it hard to pronounce a foreign name that is written in English.

Writing foreign names or terms in Chinese script has a long history and practical reasons which won’t be further elaborated on here. At present, aside from being standardized, it does not just help Chinese speakers to pronounce these words, it also makes it easier to remember them. Most Chinese names usually consist of two or three characters; the first character is the surname, and the last character(s) is the given name.

Translating a name to better adapt to the culture in which it is used does not only happen with English names in China; you often see the same happening with Chinese names in foreign countries.

In that case, the first character (surname) is moved to the back, and the given name changed into an English one. Alibaba’s Ma Yun, for example, has become globally known as ‘Jack Ma.’ Film star Zhao Wei is called ‘Vicky Zhao’, Tencent’s Ma Huateng is known as ‘Pony Ma,’ and the popular actress Lin Yun is called ‘Jelly Lin.’

 

The right way to translate a foreign name in Chinese

 

There are multiple ways to translate a foreign name to Chinese. Most commonly, a name is translated into Chinese characters that are phonetically similar to the original name, without necessarily being very meaningful. The transliteration of ‘Hillary’ (Clinton), for example, is ‘Xīlālǐ’ (希拉里). ‘Bush’ is translated as ‘Bùshí’ (布什).

Another option is to choose a name purely based on meaning rather than phonetics. One example is Elvis Presley, who is called ‘Cat King’ (Māo Wáng 猫王) in Chinese, which stays close to his nickname “The Hillbilly Cat.”

The best option when translating a foreign name into Chinese, however, is to make sure it stays close to its original pronunciation while also using elegant characters. In other words; it is nice when a name’s translation makes sense both phonetically and semantically. Marilyn Monroe’s last name in Chinese is Mènglù (梦露), for example, which sounds like ‘Monroe’ and has the characters for ‘Dream Dew’ – a perfect transliteration for such a dreamy actress.

Even when the characters used for a foreign name in Chinese are not necessarily intended to convey a certain meaning, it is important that they do not have any negative connotations. Nobody wants a character in their name associated with divorce, disease or death – it is believed to bring bad luck.

Another thing is that it is considered helpful for foreign names in Chinese is to maintain a ‘foreign flavor’ to it, to make it clear that the name is actually a transliteration. To give an example raised in this Nikkei article: President Reagan’s name is generally translated as Lǐgēn 里根 in Chinese – the characters being somewhat uncommon for a Chinese name.

The same name could also be written with the characters 李根, very common for a Chinese name, but then it would be difficult to know whether a media report is talking about Reagan the President or just a local Chinese person by the same name. Transliterations of foreign names, therefore, are often easily recognizable as foreign names on purpose.

 

Trump, Tèlǎngpǔ, and Chuānpǔ

 

In the case of Trump, his Chinese names are mainly chosen for phonetic reasons, with different sources using different characters. Part of the challenge in deciding the right Chinese translation for his name, is the fact that Chinese does not have consonant cluster ‘tr’ as one sound.

The Chinese-language Nikkei newspaper dedicated an op-ed written by Chinese scholar Ke Long (柯隆) to the matter, who argues that although it may all seem trivial, it is actually quite confusing and unpractical for president Trump to have more than one name in Chinese.

The Chinese media in Taiwan, Hong Kong, and most overseas Chinese-language media, refer to Trump as ‘Chuānpǔ’ (川普).* According to the World Journal, the biggest Chinese-language newspaper in the US, it is the only proper way to translate this name, yet most Chinese state media and Chinese-language UK media (such as BBC) all use ‘Tèlǎngpǔ.’

* (The Chinese version of The New York Times 纽约时报中文版 is an exception, as ‘Tèlǎngpǔ’ 特朗普 is generally also used in this publication.)

Author Ke Long explains that Chinese translations of foreign names try to stay as close as possible to the pronunciation of a name in its original language. This is why the name of the city ‘Paris’ is pronounced ‘Bālí’ (巴黎) in Mandarin Chinese, staying close to the French pronunciation, and ‘Amsterdam’ being ‘Āmǔsītèdān’ (阿姆斯特丹), which follows the city’s Dutch pronunciation.

If the British would pronounce ‘Trump’ as ‘te-lan-pu,’ then it would thus perhaps be more understandable why media such as the BBC would write Tèlǎngpǔ. But they don’t pronounce it like that, Ke Long argues, saying that the use of ‘Tèlǎngpǔ’ thus does not make sense, and is actually closer to the Japanese way of writing Trump’s name (‘トランプ’: to-ra-n-pu).

More so, the author writes, it does not make sense for Chinese media to take over the British transliteration of the Trump name. Considering Trump is American, Chinese media should follow the translations made by American media. He also notes that if it would be about the Prime Minister of Britain, the Chinese transliteration should follow the one used by the media in the UK.

Although the Nikkei author seems to advocate for a singular use of ‘Chuānpǔ’ by all media, no Chinese media are necessarily ‘wrong’ in their transliteration of the name Trump. The ‘Tèlǎngpǔ’ 特朗普 translation follows the example of outlets such as the BBC, while Chuānpǔ 川普 follows that of other media.

Some Chinese bloggers argue that Chuānpǔ 川普 is the best way to write Trump’s name, because the first character, that actually means ‘river,’ is commonly used in Chinese, making the name sound more ‘natural’ and easy to pronounce than ‘Tèlǎngpǔ.’ Moreover, they argue that the Mandarin ‘chuan’ sound is more appropriate to convey the pronunciation of ‘tr’ than the ‘te-lang’ way.

In the end, the reason why Trump has two names most commonly used in Chinese is just a matter of media, with various mainstream outlets adopting different names since Trump first made headlines, and without there being any clear consensus on which Chinese name to use across all these different Chinese-language media platforms around the world.

 

Chuángpù and Chuángpò?

 

On Chinese social media, President Trump even has more than two names. There are also netizens referring to him as 床鋪, 闯破 or 床破 (Chuángpù/Chuángpò); these are all transliterations that contain strange or negative characters, making the name unrefined and harsh-sounding on purpose to make the name ‘Trump’ look and sound bad.

Although there have been online discussions on the right transliteration for the name Trump, it is unlikely that there will be one official Chinese name for the US President in the near future. Xinhua News, China’s official state-run press agency, has consistently been using Tèlǎngpǔ 特朗普 for years, and will probably continue to use it.

Many netizens simply use both versions of his name in one post to avoid confusion, and some news reports have even started using both names in its headlines (image below).

Despite the somewhat confusing situation at hand, there are also those who do not seem to mind at all. “Who cares if it is Tèlǎngpǔ or Chuānpǔ anyway?” one netizen says: “In this day and age, we all know who it is we are talking about.”

– By Manya Koetse
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This article first appeared in 2017 and has been republished with various corrections:
– The first version did not properly convey the argument made by author Ke Long in his Nikkei piece, which is more clearly laid out in this version.
– This version has added some extra information coming from sources after 2017.

Spotted a mistake or want to add something? Please email us.

©2019 Whatsonweibo. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce our content without permission – you can contact us at info@whatsonweibo.com

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What’s on Weibo provides social, cultural & historical insights into an ever-changing China. What’s on Weibo sheds light on China’s digital media landscape and brings the story behind the hashtag. This independent news site is managed by sinologist Manya Koetse. Contact info@whatsonweibo.com. ©2014-2018

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