宇宙的边缘是什么？这是一个科学尚未解答的问题，但如今中国大多数年轻人已经有了答案。根据他们的说法，在宇宙的尽头不是银河系、仙女座星系或猎犬座星座，而是一个政府工作。
观察过去四十年改革时代中国年轻人对政府工作态度的变化，可以揭示中国社会结构发生的根本性变化。
在改革开放初期的1980年代，城市居民的政府工作分为三类：集体职位、普通职位和干部职位。干部职位相当于今天的公务员制度。当时，所有年轻人都渴望进入这个体系。但到了1990年代，他们不再渴望这样做。
如果说上世纪80年代的经济发展步伐如同步行，那么到了90年代就如同疾驰的马匹。特别是大学毕业生开始背弃官僚体系，转而寻求在外资企业或合资企业就业，或者自己创业。激励是显而易见的：他们可以在私营部门赚取更多、可能是更多的薪水。
仅在1992年，就有超过12万名干部级官员——当时各个政府部门的骨干——辞去职务，到私营部门工作。看到市场经济的巨大机遇，一些人寻求在外资企业或合资企业就业。其他人动用积蓄，向亲友借款，创办自己的企业。其中最杰出的人后来成为中国最知名的企业家。那些投身私营部门的人将其形容为“潜入大海”，因为市场经济在比喻中被称为大海。
但随着中国经济放缓，年轻人开始重新燃起他们对政府体系工作的渴望，这一次他们的渴望更加强烈。这被称为“登陆”。
过去十年来，中国大学毕业生申请公务员岗位的人数激增。到2023年，约有280万名申请人符合公务员考试资格，而估计可供职位为39000个。媒体将此形容为“万马奔腾过独木桥”。
更重要的是，拥有学士学位已经不再是优势；至少需要硕士学位。而要使申请真正有竞争力，需要博士学位。
劳动力市场的激烈竞争剥夺了年轻求职者对就业选择的能力；只要有一个稳定的政府官僚工作机会，无论在哪里或者工作性质如何，都会有大量申请者。2020年，杭州的一个小街道办事处成为新闻焦点，因为来自中国一些最知名大学的博士申请了一个空缺职位。在生活条件极为艰难的西藏阿里地区，一份2021年在当地邮局招聘的职员职位吸引了惊人的20813份申请。
关闭、裁员、失业和破产已成为描述当今经济的关键词。对于年轻的中国人来说，高薪工作不再是唯一的目标；他们想要的是在国家官僚体系内稳定的工作。经历了三年的疫情封锁后，不仅年轻人意识到了这些官僚工作的重要性，每个人都意识到了。
无论你在家隔离多久，政府工作是唯一能够继续支付你全额工资的就业形式。没有政府工作，下一次封锁一来，你的收入来源可能会被切断。这就是为什么“在宇宙的边缘有一个政府工作”如今成为中国网络上的流行词语。
中国人一直热衷于掌相，这是最简单、最直接的占卜方式。过去，掌相师会根据三条线来预测一个人的命运，分别代表寿命、事业和爱情。当今年轻人掌握他们的命运时，他们只关心事业线，他们想知道的是：他们的未来是否会有政府工作。
我不知道这些年轻人是如何发明这种新的占卜形式的，但我只能对政府工作的强大力量感到惊叹，因为它们现在甚至已经进入了中国占卜长传统中。 ■
余华是小说家和散文家，主要以其前卫小说而闻名。他的小说包括《活着》（1993年）、《兄弟》（2005年）和《第七天》（2015年）。
原文
Yu Hua on why young Chinese no longer want to work for private firms
What lies at the far reaches of the universe? This is a question that science has yet to answer, but most young people in China today already have an answer. According to them, at the end of the universe is not the Milky Way, the Andromeda Galaxy or the Canes Venatici Constellation, but a government job.
Observing changing attitudes about government jobs among young people in China over the course of the past four decades of the reform era can reveal the deep-seated changes that have taken place in the structure of Chinese society.
During the early days of the reform era in the 1980s, there were three categories of government jobs for urban residents: the collective positions (jiti bianzhi), the general positions (quanmin bianzhi) and the cadre positions (ganbu bianzhi). The cadre positions were equivalent to the civil-service system of today. At the time, all young people craved an opportunity to enter that system. But by the 1990s that was no longer something they desired.
If we were to describe the pace of economic development in the 1980s as walking, by the 1990s it was akin to a horse galloping. College graduates in particular turned their backs on the bureaucratic system in favour of seeking employment with foreign firms or joint ventures, or founding their own firms. The incentive was obvious: they could earn more, possibly a lot more, in the private sector.
In 1992 alone, more than 120,000 cadre-level bureaucrats—the backbone of various government departments at the time—resigned from their positions to work in the private sector. Seeing the tremendous opportunities of the market economy, some sought employment with foreign firms or joint ventures. Others drew on their savings and borrowed money from friends and family to start their own businesses. The most outstanding of them would later become China’s best-known entrepreneurs. Those taking the private-sector plunge described it as “diving into the sea”, as the market economy was metaphorically referred to as a great sea.
But as the Chinese economy slowed, young people began to rekindle their desire for jobs within the government system—and this time their desire was even more fervent. It was referred to as “coming ashore”.
For the past decade the number of Chinese college graduates applying for jobs in the civil service has surged. In 2023 some 2.8m applicants qualified for the civil-service examinations, chasing an estimated 39,000 available positions. The media described this as “an army of soldiers and horses attempting to cross a single-plank bridge”.
What’s more, having a bachelor’s degree is no longer an advantage; one needs to have at least a master’s degree. And for an application to be truly competitive, one needs a doctorate.
The fierce competition in the labour market has deprived young job-seekers of the ability to be selective when it comes to employment; as long as there is a secure government bureaucratic job available, no matter where or what the nature of the job, there are always large numbers of applicants. In 2020 a small subdistrict office in Hangzhou made the news when people with phds from some of China’s most prestigious universities were among those applying for an open position. In the remote Ali region of Tibet, where living conditions are extremely difficult, a job advertised in 2021 for a clerk at the local post office drew a staggering 20,813 applications.
Shutdowns, layoffs, unemployment and bankruptcy have all become key words to describe the economy of today. For young Chinese, high-paying jobs are no longer the be-all and end-all; what they want are stable jobs within the state bureaucratic system. After living through three years of pandemic lockdowns, it is not only the young who have realised the importance of these bureaucratic jobs. Everyone has.
No matter how long you might end up quarantined at home, government jobs are the only form of employment you can count on to continue paying you a full salary. Without a government job, the second the next lockdown comes along, your source of income may well be cut off. That is why “At the far reaches of the universe lies a government job” has become a popular phrase online in China today.
The Chinese people have always loved palm-reading, which is the simplest and most straightforward form of fortune-telling. In the past, palm-readers would base someone’s fortune on three lines which represented one’s longevity, career and love life. When young people get their fortunes told today, they care only about the career line, and all they want to know is: will there be a government job in their future.
I don’t know how these young people invented this new form of divination, but I can only marvel at the awe-inspiring power of government jobs, as they have now even entered into the long tradition of Chinese fortune-telling.
Yu Hua is a novelist and essayist, known primarily for his avant-garde fiction. His novels include “To Live” (1993), “Brothers” (2005) and “The Seventh Day” (2015)