As youth unemployment in China persists at over 14%, many young adults are turning to businesses that allow them to pay for a workspace to simulate working life. This trend offers psychological support and a sense of community, even if it ultimately raises questions about authenticity and self-deception in the job market.
New Trend Emerges Among Young Unemployed in China: Paying to Pretend to Work

New Trend Emerges Among Young Unemployed in China: Paying to Pretend to Work
Young adults in China are opting to pay for an office space where they can simulate a working environment amidst high unemployment rates, reflecting changing job market dynamics.
In a striking reflection of the challenging job market in China, many unemployed young adults are opting to pay for the experience of pretending to work. With youth unemployment rates surpassing 14%, these individuals are finding solace and purpose in mock office environments, where they can simulate professional life while they search for real job opportunities.
Among the facilitators of this trend is the "Pretend To Work Company," where individuals like Shui Zhou, 30, pay a daily fee to occupy a desk in a lively, fully-equipped office in Dongguan. After a failed food business venture, Zhou sought out this model, feeling that an office environment would enhance his discipline. For 30 yuan (approximately $4.20) a day, Zhou joins others in using computers to job hunt while also enjoying communal meals and conversations with newfound colleagues.
This trend is proliferating in major cities such as Shanghai and Shenzhen, driving a notable rise in businesses catering to this unusual necessity. The spaces provide not just a desk but also a sense of belonging amid social pressures and the stark reality of unfulfilled employment aspirations.
Dr. Christian Yao, a lecturer in management, notes the phenomenon is indicative of a broader disconnect between education and job availability, necessitating such transitional spaces for young people. According to Zhou, the experience boosts both his morale and provides validation to his parents regarding his employment status.
Another participant, 23-year-old Xiaowen Tang, echoes this sentiment as she used her time in a similar space to fulfill her university’s internship requirement—despite the lack of a traditional job. She views the pretense as a pragmatic approach to creating evidence of work experience while pursuing her passions, such as writing novels for extra income.
The owner of the Dongguan facility, known by the pseudonym Feiyu, reveals that he himself once faced unemployment during the pandemic, which motivated him to create a space that restores "dignity" to the unemployed. His unique service aims to create a buffer from societal pressures and offers participants a platform to potentially transition to real employment.
While the future of these businesses remains uncertain, Feiyu perceives it as more of a social experiment, questioning whether perpetuating a facade can ultimately lead to personal growth and actual job placements. He aims to transform this endeavor from living a lie to cultivating real opportunities for his clients.
As young adults like Zhou upgrade their skills—focusing on areas like AI to increase employability—the practice of pretending to work highlights not just the immediate coping mechanisms in a tough economy, but also raises pertinent questions regarding the nature of work, authenticity, and economic survival in today's competitive landscape.