[White-collar workers face job cuts and
shrinking paychecks even in go-go industries like technology, suggesting the
economic pain is broader than official figures show.]
By
Alexandra Stevenson and Cao Li
The job fair in the Chinese boomtown of
Shenzhen offered a white-collar future for a country that rose to economic
greatness on the strength of its assembly lines, bulldozers and cranes.
Technology, financial and real estate companies pitched jobs in sales,
engineering, accounting and logistics. A $150,000-a-year salary, said one
poster, “isn’t just a dream.”
But for many job seekers, it still seemed
like one. At one end of the event hall, two dozen candidates sat dejectedly
under a banner that read, “Hope you find a good job soon.”
“Job hunting,” said Hou Hao, a 28-year-old
accountant who could not find a position that matched her previous
$2,700-per-month salary, “now feels like being constantly slapped in the face.”
China’s slowdown, which has idled factories
and construction sites, is rippling through its offices. Educated, white-collar
workers are getting hit with job cuts and shrinking paychecks. Even big
technology companies like JD.com, the online retailer, and Didi Chuxing,
China’s answer to Uber and one of the world’s most valuable start-ups, have not
been spared.
The white-collar job distress suggests the
slowdown in China’s economy, the world’s second largest, is broader than official
numbers indicate. China increasingly relies on middle-class spenders who are
helping to broaden the economy beyond its industrial base. But these consumers
are not spending like they used to, and that lethargy is ricocheting through
every part of the economy, from the real estate market to China’s once-thriving
tech sector.
The slowdown also suggests the government
will have a harder time pulling the economy out of its slump.
China’s policy tools to kick-start growth —
unleashing waves of loans from the state-controlled banking system or building
new highways and airports — will not be much help for workers who process
insurance claims or enter data into computer systems. Supporting those
businesses and workers would require longer-term reforms, like getting state
banks to lend more to private businesses or cutting red tape for entrepreneurs.
In the past, “by virtue of building a bridge,
you could get the economy growing,” said Fraser Howie, co-writer of three books
on the Chinese financial system.
Now, he added, “there is no obvious catch up,
and therefore it makes it all the more important that China makes important,
difficult decisions to move forward.”
China does not disclose reliable jobs or
layoff data, so the full impact of the slowdown is not clear. Some surveys show
there is still high demand for jobs in certain sectors. But multiple signs
point to trouble for other office workers.
One measure, based on a survey of services
businesses, suggests shrinking employment in a variety of industries. Search
results from Baidu, China’s biggest search engine, analyzed by Nomura, the
Japanese bank, show the term “job seeking” rose to a high in December. Human
resources executives and senior staff at tech firms, property developers and
other large private companies described layoffs in recent months of up to 30
percent at some firms involving hundreds of workers, according to a recent
survey by the research firm Global Source Partners.
On one major job recruitment website called
Zhilian, the number of openings across all sectors posted in the fourth quarter
fell by 10 percent compared with the same period in 2017. New positions at
technology firms and internet start-ups fell by 51 percent over the third
quarter of 2018 compared with the same period a year earlier.
China’s office workers have suffered during
past slowdowns, but cuts now have a broader impact as the country’s economy
matures and they become a bigger part of the work force.
For workers like Sherry Xu, the weakened job
market undermines the basic premise that a college education leads to a more
secure future than a factory job. The 34-year-old finance professional attended
a prestigious university, and then rose through the ranks of the finance
industry.
Recently, Ms. Xu was called into a meeting
with human resources, right after she finished pitching to a group of potential
investors. Her employer, a financial firm, was having a difficult time, she was
told. Layoffs would start soon. She would be among them.
“The job market isn’t looking good,” said Ms.
Xu, who after the meeting accepted a freelance contract with the same firm at
half her earlier pay. “I feel this time, it will be harder than ever for me to
find a job.”
Just a week after Lunar New Year celebrations
in China in February, Didi Chuxing, the country’s largest ride-sharing and
taxi-hailing service, notified employees that it would cut 2,000 jobs — roughly
15 percent of its work force, according to a person with direct knowledge of
the firm’s plan who was not authorized to speak publicly. The cuts would target
jobs that are outside the company’s core focus of safety technology,
engineering and international operations, employees were told.
Chinese news media reports also said Didi was
cutting back perks like free snacks and beverages. In a statement, Didi said it
would adjust benefits but would not make major cuts without providing
specifics. Didi said its benefits were as varied as health care services, meal
and transportation subsidies, and corporate gym access.
JD.com, the e-commerce company, has started
to evaluate employees with the goal of shedding 10 percent of its top
executives, it told staff in February.
Asked about the cuts, JD.com said it planned
to hire 15,000 new employees in 2019.
“JD highly values its work force,” Tracy
Yang, a spokeswoman, said in a statement.
Layoffs, like other economic events, have
become politically sensitive and companies are reluctant to confirm the
winnowing of staff. In response to reports that the e-commerce giant Alibaba
was planning to freeze recruitment, the company published a statement promising
to “hire more talent and increase our investment in talent,” adding that this
was important “especially when the economy is challenging.”
China’s vibrant tech scene is also facing a
cash crunch. Many start-ups are having trouble raising money.
Qi Feng started working in sales at
Renrenche, the online car platform, nearly four years ago. Mr. Qi and other
colleagues were called into a meeting several weeks ago and told to quit, he
said. They were offered new contracts that required them to pay $6,000 to the
company in exchange for customer data. They could then use the data to sell
cars on the platform and pocket the profit. He said he refused to quit and was
told he would be fired.
“It has a big impact on me,” Mr. Qi said. He
has monthly mortgage payments of $400 and a $300 monthly car loan. His daughter
is just a year old, he said, and he and his wife take care of their parents.
A spokesman for Renrenche said the move was
part of a strategy that would make employees into partners.
“For those who are not willing to convert
into partners, we will handle them properly and according to law,” said Han Di,
the spokesman.
Qiao Lifeng, a college-educated accountant
who left the business briefly to open a restaurant, moved from Heilongjiang
Province in China’s far northeast to Shenzhen, in the southeast, two decades
ago when the city was at the front line of China’s economic overhauls. He got
his first job at the Shenzhen General Talent Market, the same job fair Ms. Hou
attended. He slowly worked his way up at several companies as an accountant
until two years ago, when he decided to try his hand at building his own
business.
Now that his restaurant has closed, he found
himself back, but the world had changed.
“I only started looking for jobs,” Mr. Qiao,
45, said. “It’s very difficult to find a job that suits me.”
Alexandra Stevenson is a business
correspondent based in Hong Kong, covering Chinese corporate giants, the
changing landscape for multinational companies and China’s growing economic and
financial influence in Asia.