Revelation: University Employment Rate Stands at 30, Systematic Collusion in Data Fabrication Hard to Escape

A Stifling Job Fair Scene. (Screenshot from Google)

[People News] "If you can't get into a university, you start delivering takeout three days later; if you do get in, you find yourself delivering takeout four years later." This self-deprecating humorous remark from this year's college entrance examination aptly illustrates the grim reality of university student employment under the Chinese Communist Party.

As the college entrance examination concludes, several education professionals within the system have submitted reports to Bilibili blogger Cai Yaqi's lawyer. These reports include three authentic documents from a high school teacher, a staff member from the 00s vocational college admissions and employment office, and a frontline counsellor, which collectively reveal the truth behind the astonishing claim of over 95% employment rates in Chinese higher education institutions, a claim that is based on data fabrication.

The content of these submissions provides a stark commentary on the current economic downturn, soaring youth unemployment, and the collapse of social expectations. Together, they expose the deceptive data game surrounding university graduate employment rates. The falsification of employment rates in universities has transformed into a structural systemic collusion involving multiple stakeholders. From macro policies to grassroots implementation, every link in the chain is aware of the situation yet remains highly compliant, deeply entangled, and difficult to extricate from.

Story 1: A 34.8% Formal Employment Rate - Data Falsification as a Structural Systemic Conspiracy

A high school teacher who recently supervised the college entrance examination openly expressed in a submission that the falsification of education employment rates is no longer merely a moral issue but rather a 'structural conspiracy of mutual understanding among various parties.' He referenced empirical research from the Institute of Education Economics at Peking University conducted in 2023, which revealed that the actual employment rate for graduates from universities across the country stands at only 34.8% for formal employment. This indicates that more than 60% of graduates are either preparing for further studies, taking civil service exams, engaging in gig or flexible jobs, or are unemployed and unable to secure work.

In contrast, official statistics indicate that the national employment rate for university graduates typically exceeds 95%. This stark contrast cannot be attributed to statistical errors; it is the outcome of systematic and precise manipulation. The author identified four primary reasons for this discrepancy:

First, in the context of macroeconomic pressures and persistently high youth unemployment rates, stabilising employment has become a top priority at the national level. If the official real employment rate for universities were only 30% to 50%, it would not only directly contradict the higher education expansion policies of the past decade but also provoke widespread social panic and a collapse of market confidence. Consequently, a favourable employment report carries significant emotional value for maintaining social stability. The authorities require data to validate the effectiveness of their policies, and as a result, the lower levels will naturally provide corresponding figures.

Second, the rigid connection between performance assessments at local and departmental levels. For local governments and education authorities, the employment statistics of universities within their jurisdiction are crucial for their performance evaluations. If a province or city sees a significant number of red flags in university employment rates, it not only damages their reputation but can also directly impact the allocation of educational funding and policy priorities from higher authorities. To maintain their image and protect their budgets, education departments often turn a blind eye during inspections. As long as schools superficially complete the necessary documentation and avoid any mass incidents, they are typically let off the hook.

Third, the fierce competition for resources at the university level. As noted by a teacher from the previous recruitment office, the employment rate is directly tied to the allocation of enrollment plans, special funding, school evaluations, and even the principal's job security. In a scenario of limited resources, if an ordinary undergraduate institution honestly reports a true employment rate of 40%, it risks losing its strong programs and may face severe consequences, such as restrictions on enrollment quotas for the following year. To survive, schools feel compelled to engage in this numerical arms race. If you inflate your rate to 80%, I have to find a way to report 90%. In this environment, bad practices drive out good; those who are honest end up at a disadvantage.

Fourth, from the perspective of graduates. Often, students find themselves as passive participants in this game. Counsellors earnestly try to persuade them, even resorting to threats like withholding graduation certificates. To successfully obtain their dual certificates, students frequently have no choice but to visit fake companies on the streets, get their documents stamped at graduate schools, or casually affiliate with a relative's company. For these students, this is merely a meaningless formality; they are unaware that they are partaking in a serious social fraud, driven solely by necessity.

In conclusion, the persistence of this employment rate falsification is due to its evolution into a systematic tool for maintaining stability. Within this chain, everyone plays the role they are compelled to play, collectively sustaining a seemingly prosperous illusion. Disrupting this unspoken agreement is incredibly painful, as it entails someone facing the consequences of a sharp decline in data, budget cuts, and societal scepticism. Thus, unless high-level decision-makers one day genuinely commit to accepting short-term unfavourable data in exchange for long-term authentic health, this interconnected digital game is likely to persist in a covert manner.

The author concludes with a humorous and helpless twist reminiscent of the Spring and Autumn style: Everything I mentioned above was just a dream I had; I hope you can forgive me. Supervising the college entrance examination is indeed exhausting, and I dozed off for a bit.

Story Two: A confession from a post-2000 vocational college recruitment teacher: How we achieved our 95% employment rate.

The author mentions that they are currently studying at a vocational school, having previously served as a student leader in both junior high and vocational school, and possessing decent computer skills. The head teacher at the vocational school recommended that they enrol in a public college specialising in computer studies. They did not take the college entrance examination but instead went through a special admission process. At that time, due to the school's recommendation, their grades were somewhat adjusted. During the special admission process, there was an interview; they met their interview teacher the day before, accompanied by a teacher from the admissions office. Consequently, they added the admissions office teacher on WeChat, and in a somewhat confused and half-hearted manner, they ended up working in the admissions office. They assisted there throughout the last semester, and after graduation, they signed a labour dispatch agreement with the school, officially securing their position.

Upon entering the unit, they discovered that the department is actually called the Admissions and Employment Office. The college counsellor applies pressure on the school, and he submits the employment materials to their office for sorting and filtering. This is indeed the case; if they encounter particularly outrageous employers, they will filter them out. For instance, if a certain beef noodle restaurant has a receipt stamp, they can only inquire if a formal stamp can also be provided. Furthermore, if three to five individuals from the same class are employed at the same small company in another city, they will call to verify if there is an employment list.

Certainly, I recognise that what we are doing is a form of self-deception. The targets we have set for the counsellors are as follows: the spring recruitment kicks off in March, and the employment rate for March is not counted; after the large recruitment fair in April, it should reach 60% by the end of that month; 80% by the end of May; and 95% by the end of June. In reality, by May, various disorganised units began to emerge, and we could still verify them; however, by June, the submissions could only be considered valid if they bore an official stamp.

Next, I want to discuss something that is somewhat formal yet also informal, which is the stamp from institutions that facilitate the transition from junior college to undergraduate programs (if it were for undergraduate programs, it would be the stamp from graduate school institutions). They provide this stamp for the school so that students can submit it, which means the counsellors will stop pressuring you; once you complete the exam, you simply need to submit the admission screenshot, and that concludes the process. However, the issue arises when you call them; they are only willing to acknowledge 'there is a need here,' rather than 'this person is employed here.'

In addition to evaluations, we are also tasked with organising the information, compiling high-quality graduates from various colleges and majors into three booklets, while the remaining graduates are organised into books according to their colleges, with about 100 individuals per book. Our school has over 4,000 students each year, which means we need to produce more than 40 books annually, and this task alone is enough to take half a day at an off-campus printing shop.

What happens after these more than 40 books are submitted? The Education Working Committee typically arranges for mutual checks between undergraduate institutions and vocational colleges, as well as between undergraduates and undergraduates, and between vocational colleges and vocational colleges. They also assign two people to conduct random checks. Consequently, the Education Working Committee keeps one copy, the vocational colleges involved in the mutual checks keep another, and I keep one copy for myself; these three copies are merely for show. The remaining over 40 copies are reviewed by teachers from other schools. If the two schools have a good relationship, they will simply review the materials, identify one or two minor issues, and if the overall problem ratio found across about forty books is less than 1%, you pass. However, if the relationship is strained, then any minor detail can be scrutinised and turned into a problem.

For instance, in the table, the first item is the student's name, the second is their educational background, and the third is the educational system. If a student writes 'vocational college' in the educational background column, it gets rejected because it should state 'specialist'. Another example is the training method, which can be either directed or non-directed; this distinction is largely irrelevant for vocational colleges... We also provide students with templates and clarify these requirements in advance, but when it comes time to submit, various students may fail to fill it out correctly, leaving it blank or writing 'directed' by hand, which then becomes an issue.

In any case, if today luck is not on your side and the draw goes awry, leading to a problem ratio exceeding 3%, then this year's evaluation for excellence and advancement will not be associated with your unit; if it exceeds 5%, it will result in direct reporting and criticism. Therefore, while we verbally state that we require a 95% rate, in practice, the employment rate is often collected at around 97%.

Sometimes I find myself pondering this issue. During our student recruitment, we often tout that the school's employment rate has exceeded 95% over the past five years. But can such a statement genuinely ensure that students receive a quality education? Frankly speaking, we are not focused on education; our admissions and employment office is merely responsible for the intake and output of students. I've noticed that only a small fraction of individuals can truly contribute here, primarily consisting of student leaders who are called upon by teachers to assist, and their abilities vary significantly.

I don’t intend to blame anyone. The person in charge faces pressure; we face pressure, and the school faces pressure as well. However, what does a 95% employment rate, achieved through document stamping, phone calls to request lists, and wordplay, really signify for vocational college students born after 2000? I deal with these materials daily, and at times, I genuinely question whether we are helping students or misleading them.

This is especially poignant as the employment and recruitment seasons arrive back-to-back in spring. We have just completed the preparation of learning materials and contacted manufacturers to print admission notices, joyfully mailing them out. Now, we must also prepare for large job fairs and hold meetings to discuss employment with the student department heads and secretaries from various secondary colleges. That feeling of being torn in different directions... Never mind, let’s maintain rigour here; if I say too much, I might be labelled as spreading negative energy.

Teacher Cai, I read the submission from the college counsellor you mentioned yesterday, which is why I can share so much today. He expressed frustration about the school's pressure regarding employment rates, stating that he could only secretly reach out to students to obtain defence cards and graduation certificates, claiming that these practices are all fraudulent. I empathise with his struggles and understand the intent behind his words. However, from the perspective of the admissions and employment office, I would like to add a point: it is not that the school is forcing the counsellors, but rather that this entire system places pressure on everyone involved. The school faces assessment pressures, the admissions office deals with deadline pressures, counsellors experience execution pressures, and even the education committee staff are under strain. If something goes wrong, they are held accountable for unfavourable inspections and must provide explanations. To be frank, do the education committee members really not know about our little tactics? They are aware, but no one dares to halt the process. This system is wearing everyone down; no one can truly catch their breath.

Of course, I also have principles that I uphold. I have turned down offers from some black factories and unregistered companies seeking to recruit on campus. Our school has never engaged in practices like some other institutions that force junior students into factories under the threat of not graduating without internships, while also taking kickbacks from those factories. I have witnessed such occurrences, but our school does not operate in that manner.

I can't say that I'm extremely tired, lonely, or conflicted; I've run out of adjectives to describe my current work situation. After finishing a meeting in the afternoon, I still have to work overtime in the evening to prepare new promotional materials for the college entrance examination. This is necessary to align with the few words suggested by the top leader, even though it is highly likely that the proposal will be rejected in the end due to existing contradictions between the person in charge and the top leader. However, I feel powerless; I can only share these thoughts while eating. Please forgive me for treating you as a sounding board.

Story Three: Submission from a Counsellor at a Vocational College—The Employment Data of Graduates is Completely False

Hello, Teacher Cai, I am a counsellor at a public vocational college, responsible for over 200 students graduating this June. The school currently mandates a 95% employment rate, but from what I know, this is the requirement for vocational colleges in my province, while the actual employment rate may be less than half of that, as the current job market is quite poor.

However, the school shifts all the employment pressure onto the counsellors. If we fail to meet the target, our salaries will be deducted, and we will face public criticism. This is also tied to the school's potential elevation to a bachelor's degree program; if we do not meet the requirement, we cannot achieve that upgrade. We are expected to encourage students to find jobs, but many are reluctant to start working immediately because they can't find good opportunities. They often resort to threats of withholding diplomas, but this cannot be stated directly; we can only hint at it through verbal communication or via WeChat or phone, fearing student complaints. As a result, we can only convey this indirectly, which leads many students to falsify their information.

However, the school fears that if the education department discovers students' false employment claims, the consequences will be severe. This could lead to a report to the school, which would then discipline us, counsellors, according to the teaching affairs department, for failing to identify students' false employment in our daily work. It feels like the current job is incredibly challenging; if we can't meet our targets, we have to address the issues, and if problems arise, we must handle them. Ultimately, all the employment pressure falls on the counsellors.

Indeed, we cannot subtly inform students that if they do not secure employment, they will not receive their graduation certificates. There is also no way to investigate false employment claims. What can be done to address this problematic performance evaluation situation? Currently, the situation is as follows: the higher-ups are aware that the data you report is false; I know that they know the data is false, yet I still have to submit false data because if I don't, no one will be able to complete their tasks. It is truly frustrating, and ultimately, the responsibility lies with counsellors like us at the bottom of the school hierarchy.

Conclusion: The system inflicts harm, while individuals bear the burden.

The three contributors offer different perspectives, yet they all point to a hidden truth: it is not the fault of any individual, position, or school, but rather the entire mechanism that ensnares everyone, making them participants in a systemic conspiracy, swept along by the current, unable to escape.

The demands for macro stability maintenance from the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) have led to a completely self-deceptive closed-loop conspiracy, encompassing local performance evaluations, the survival struggles of universities, frontline execution, and students' passive participation. The Education Working Committee, the Recruitment and Employment Office, counsellors, and students are all aware that the data is fabricated; everyone is weary of this political shackle they bear. Yet, no one dares to challenge or dismantle this narrative of stability maintenance, as doing so would entail facing accountability for a drastic drop in data, budget cuts, social scepticism, and even political repercussions.

(First published by People News)△