Graduate unemployment is becoming a problem in central China despite the booming
economy of the Asian giant, writes Don Lee.

SUN YUANPING skipped her college graduation ceremony for a job interview. It was an all-day affair and the bookish 22-year-old felt good about it. After all, she has degrees in marketing and botany from a well-regarded college in this central Chinese city and she ranked in the top fifth of her class.

Sun never heard back from that prospective employer, nor from dozens of other companies and government agencies where she has applied since she graduated last June.

Recently, after tearful self-reflection and long nights tossing in bed, she pared down her expectations and began sending her CV to small businesses offering salaries as low as €95 a month, a third of what she had hoped to earn.

As each jobless day passes and Sun lives off an allowance of about €70 a month from her parents, she feels increasingly guilty. "All along, I thought if I went to a good university, everything would be fine," Sun says.

Her eyes well with tears as she continues. "At first, it was hard to believe. I considered myself to be quite excellent. I'm struggling to accept this."

Until the start of the decade, a college degree in China put you in elite circles. The government arranged jobs for graduates in public agencies or large state-owned enterprises. Unemployment was not an issue.

However, of the almost five million young people who graduated last June, about 1.45 million were still unemployed in the autumn, according to a study published last month by the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences.

Researchers estimated that by the end of the year, about 75 per cent of the recent graduates had found jobs.

China's graduate employment rate compares favourably with countries such as Japan, where 68 per cent got jobs by the end of the year.

Yang Dongping, a Beijing scholar who wrote the academy's report, cautions though that many colleges in China are known to exaggerate placement figures. Whatever the true numbers, Yang says, "without doubt, it's harder and harder for graduates to find jobs".

That is evident in Wuhan, a city of about 10 million on the Yangtze river. Based on employment contracts and school certificates, officials say, the employment rate for university graduates in this city by the end of the year fell from 83 per cent in 2003 to 73 per cent in 2006.

Their average monthly take-home pay is €140 to €160 - compared with about €110 for all Wuhan residents.

In part, the falling hiring rates reflect booming enrolment at Chinese universities and the opening of new colleges, many of them second-rate. About 5.6 million Chinese are expected to graduate from two- and four- year colleges this year, five times the number in 2001.

But the rising joblessness also mirrors broader problems in China's education system and economy, as well as inflated expectations of many graduates. Researchers and company recruiters say too many students are coming out of universities unprepared for the marketplace. Many undergraduate institutions have aggressively expanded programmes in fields such as law, where there are relatively few openings for those without advanced degrees.

Of most concern, company managers say, is that many students lack creativity and analytical ability, having been drilled in memorising and reciting facts.

"Universities should train students more according to the needs of the job market and encourage them to be more innovative," says Ji Xueqing, general manager of the Shanghai branch of software maker Ufida. Last year, he says, his branch hired about 600 staff, including fresh graduates.

For each position, there were seven to eight candidates.

"With development, our society will need more experienced workers, and companies will have higher requirements," Ji says. "It's going to get harder [ for new graduates] to find a satisfactory job."

That worries government officials. "When the employment situation is difficult, relations between teachers and students are tense," said Yang Yiyong, vice-director of economic research at the National Development and Reform Commission, a powerful policymaking agency in Beijing.

A year and half ago, in China's central Henan province, students at Shengda College rioted after they discovered that their diploma did not bear the name of the college's more prestigious affiliate, Zhengzhou University.

Students, worried that the change would hurt their job prospects, ransacked offices, smashed windows and scuffled with police.

"Education is a very large expense for ordinary families. Of course they want to get a return after graduation," Yang says.

Since then, the central government has moved to slow enrolment growth and cities have eased resident permit rules to allow job seekers greater mobility. More universities have beefed up their career counselling and job centres.

Still, says Yang, "in the near future, the placement situation for graduates will remain very severe. We haven't reached the peak for college graduates. . . . Therefore, they should adopt a more modest attitude when looking for jobs."

Like many Chinese graduates, Cheng Xiaohui (25) is the first in his family to go to college - the first, in fact, in his entire farming village of 300, about 160km (100 miles) northwest of Wuhan.

Two years ago, he graduated from China Three Gorges University in western Hubei province, majoring in environmental engineering. The job market did not look good, so Cheng enrolled in a master's degree course in environmental engineering at Wuhan University of Technology.

He graduates this June but has been applying for jobs since October.

"I want to go to a large design institute, not a small private company," Cheng says, warming his hands with a cup of hot chocolate. For now, he says, he's holding out for a salary of at least €200 a month.

"I have a lot of pressure. . . . I can't find some job that any migrant worker can do," says Cheng, an earnest man with deep lines on his face.

Undergraduate tuition at Three Gorges University runs from €880 to €1,300 a year. For living expenses, Cheng says, he borrowed about €1,300 a year from the government.

"Every year, most of my family's income is used for tuition," he adds. "My parents never mention income. They just say, 'Focus on your studies'." - (Los Angeles Times service)