Recruiting in China

A few years after finishing university, Jack Dai thought he had scored the holy trinity of success for a young Chinese man: a government job, an apartment and a wife. But he had not counted on one additional factor, less visible from the surface, that soon drove a wedge between him and his conception of the good life.

To buy his Shanghai house, Mr Dai, 30, took out a hefty mortgage. Monthly repayments now swallow up half his salary. Plus he has the other expenses of Chinese middle-classdom – overseas holidays, shopping excursions, movies and restaurants.

Mr Dai is hemmed in by debt. “Every second month or so, I can’t pay off my credit card bill. I save nothing,” he sighs.

This experience for a young professional, hardly unusual in the west, is a radical departure for China. The older generation, that of Mr Dai’s parents, was famous for its saving prowess. Memories of deprived childhoods in the Maoist era led them to squirrel away most of their earnings even as their fortunes improved alongside China’s fast-growing economy from the 1980s on.

But the young urban Chinese who have entered the workforce over the past decade grew up amid plenty, and their views about saving and spending bear little resemblance to those of their parents. Their willingness to borrow for today and worry about repayment tomorrow is beginning to reshape China’s debt dynamics.