In China, pursuing higher education is no longer just about personal educational advancement for children, but has turned into a “class defense battle” mobilizing the whole family. From extracurricular competitions to financial strains on families, from expanded university admissions to job market difficulties, the pressure within the education system has long been overwhelming. This article compiles perspectives from teachers, parents, and scholars to examine contemporary anxieties within China’s education system from various angles.
Education blogger “@ZhaoJiumeiParentsWisdom” recently sparked heated discussions online with a lecture that bluntly analyzed the college entrance exam system and the reality of competition.
She explained to high school students and parents that in China, the scores on the college entrance exam directly correspond to future educational levels, from top universities like Tsinghua and Peking with scores around 700, to vocational colleges with scores as low as 200. The notion that “scores determine destiny” is almost a rigid law in the system.
She pointed out that the admission rate for top universities is only 13%, meaning 87% of students cannot enter these prestigious institutions. This structure has essentially become a tool for social stratification rather than a mechanism for fair knowledge competition.
Zhao emphasized, “Being excessively competitive is pointless.” For families whose children cannot enter top universities, excessive tutoring only adds to the burden on both the family and the children. She suggested that parents should timely let go and that finding joy in life is also a viable option.
She believes that education has long transformed into an arena of resources and hierarchy, not about academic achievement but about resource competition: “Only ten percent of children are truly studying, the rest are children of officials and powerful families competing there.”
The pursuit of higher education not only consumes the youth’s teenage years but also depletes the resources of entire families. Mr. Shen, a parent, mentioned that in major cities like Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou, and Shenzhen, “80% of the money parents earn is spent on their children,” including tutoring, sports, piano lessons, English classes, with no expense spared.
Zhao presented an estimate of the cost of higher education: tuition for a four-year undergraduate degree at 130,000 yuan, tutoring and equipment fees at 50,000 yuan, living expenses at 70,000 yuan, postgraduate exam expenses at 200,000 yuan, and post-graduation support for housing and transportation adding up to at least 700,000 yuan, totaling over a million yuan. Yet, in the end, this investment could lead to a 26-year-old child being unemployed and parents exhausted both physically and mentally.
Former associate professor at Beijing Normal University, Li Yuanhua, stated in an interview with Epoch Times that these investments often do not pay off, leading to not only academic frustration but also triggering dual economic and psychological anxieties within families. He described education as a “trap of collective anxiety” rather than a ladder to change one’s destiny.
When the education system becomes a tool for class stratification, when mental health issues escalate, and when commercialization within schools and among teachers intensifies, education turns from a process of learning into a repeated cycle of pressure.
“Can you easily step out of this track? No! It won’t let you go, nor will it spare you,” Zhao’s words struck at the core of reality, urging individuals to “stop being excessively competitive!”
Chinese teenagers are facing unprecedented psychological pressure. According to the “2025 Chinese Mental Health Blue Book,” the depression rates among primary school students have reached 10%, rising to 30% for junior high school students and 40% for high school students. In the first half of 2024, the suicide rate among teenagers surged by 76.9% compared to the previous year, with the median age for suicide attempts or self-harm being only 13.5 years.
Li Yuanhua pointed out that this is not merely a problem of individual schools or families but a result of societal pressures cascading through multiple layers—from the overall system to schools, then parents, ultimately affecting individual students.
He mentioned that for the lower-income population, education is seen as the sole hope for social mobility, leading to a scenario where “thousands of troops squeeze over a single plank.” Students become the primary pressure bearers. He argued, “Considering the psychological and physiological development, children simply cannot withstand this pressure, resulting in widespread depression and disengagement from learning.”
A post by the blogger “@TalentHomePsychologicalConsultingShanghai” highlighted that the 2024 Education System Mental Health White Paper showed a sharp rise in the percentage of primary and secondary school students taking leave due to emotional disorders, with a 240% increase over five years. Among these students on leave, 45% have a history of self-harm, and the failure to return to school is closely related to the “shame of illness” feeling.
A student attending a vocational high school in a third-tier city, Luo, disclosed to Epoch Times that out of her class of 50 students, 28 suffer from depression. She revealed the harsh reality where parents who are unwilling to continue supporting their children financially would send them off to work early and fend for themselves. Such instances are heartbreaking to hear about.
Legal scholar Liu Ming (pseudonym) residing in Beijing expressed to Epoch Times that since the late 1990s, China’s widespread expansion of higher education has resulted in an “over-supply,” where the number of graduates far exceeds the market demand. In particular, the blind establishment of popular majors like economics and law in various types of universities has led to severe “overcapacity.”
Liu stated, “Many graduates end up in a state of limbo, unable to find jobs matching their qualifications, becoming surplus talents.” He emphasized the need to move away from “academic worship” and establish a society atmosphere of “lifelong learning” and respect for knowledge.
This view resonates with Zhao Jiumei’s assertion that the graduate entrance exams have become a form of “deferred management” of employment pressure, where students don’t take these exams out of competitiveness but out of necessity due to job market challenges, compelling them to “waste a few more years.”
Driven by economic motives, the role of education is gradually changing. Li Yuanhua remarked that the group of teachers has shifted from their original role of “teaching and nurturing” to being tools for profit-making, where many fail to impart knowledge or provide guidance and even lack sufficient expertise in their own fields. Li Yuanhua candidly stated, “This profession, which should be respected, has transformed into an oppressive force on young people.”
Zhao further unveiled the economic logic behind education: for a tiny fraction of high-scoring students, education serves as a strategic reserve of talent for the country; however, for the majority of students and families, education becomes a consumer commodity. From high tuition fees, tutoring, accommodation, digital equipment, to housing in specific school districts, families are deeply entangled in the commercial chain of education.
Zhao strongly criticized the education system for not only fulfilling the task of social stratification but also becoming an economic engine driving domestic consumption because “the real estate market cannot survive without the consumption by university students and their parents.”