Raymond Zhou

Reverse brain drain a sign of the times

By Raymond Zhou (China Daily)
Updated: 2006-12-16 06:43

As the saying goes in Journalism 101, when dog bites man, that's not news; only when man bites dog should a reporter jump on it.

Along the same lines, when farmers swarm into urban areas, it is more or less taken for granted; but when urbanites start settling down in the countryside and not just for a holiday that's newsworthy.

A recent report by China Youth Daily said as many as 5,000 university graduates, some from such prestigious institutions as Zhejiang University and Jiaotong University, had applied for rural residence permits in coastal Zhejiang Province, a prosperous area south of Shanghai.

That would have been unthinkable a generation ago. During the heyday of the "cultural revolution" (1966-76), urban youths were "sent down" to "remote mountains and countryside for re-education." As a way of solving unemployment, that didn't really work out well; but as a countermeasure for dealing with disenfranchised and rebellious youth, it hit a nerve, albeit inadvertently. The young were so eager to crawl back to their urban roots that the fight for a chance became the ordeal of their day, which, in turn, wised them up to the ways of the world and set them up for their future success.

The yawning urban-rural gap in China virtually amounted to a caste system. Those with urban residency used to be guaranteed jobs plus welfare, while those without had to make do with tilling a plot for life. About the only way to break through was by joining the army or going to university, after which one could possibly "convert" to urban status.

The "new educated youth," as the current batch is being nicknamed, differ from their predecessors in that they have been neither tricked nor had it drummed into them to downscale. Their decision to resettle in what was formerly considered the lower stratum was quite rational to begin with. It is the result of a push-pull convergence.

First there is the push from urban life the scarcity of good jobs, the high cost of living and, above all, the prohibitive cost of housing. If a graduate hovers in the 1,000-2,000 yuan (US$127-US$255) range of earning power, they have little chance of becoming a proud city slicker.

The pull comes mainly from the ever-improving living standards and relatively low cost in some rural areas. Besides, with urbanization going strong as it is, rural land is skyrocketing in value. The plot for a homestead could sell for tens of thousands or even hundreds of thousands of yuan, which constitutes a windfall for most families.

It is a good sign that the brain drain is reversing. But we must realize that the reversal is just a trickle. The income gap between urban and rural citizens is far from being bridged. Rural life is getting better, that's for sure, but in many places the distance to the good life in the city is even farther than before.

Then, there is the residence permit system that holds migration in check. Although reform and opening up since the early 1980s has made it less relevant, it is not totally obsolete. For example, those returnees did not really move to other places; they were born and grew up there. Even they were granted special permission to go back to their native soil because land is now scarce and country folk do not want outsiders to carve up their "buried treasures," so to speak.

In other words, if you were born a townie, there's little likelihood you could opt for a bucolic country life. You can get a job there, but you cannot legally buy real estate or obtain permanent residence. You're just a member of the floating army, which now stands at 150 million.

So, what does this "man-eating-dog" phenomenon suggest? A new countryside taking shape? Possibly. More university graduates lacking competition in the concrete jungle? Could be.

More than anything, it tells us that, in a time of change, anything can happen. You never know where your next big break will come from.

(China Daily 12/16/2006 page4)