The Chinese government recently unveiled a new visa initiative aimed at drawing in young international talent in science and technology, framing it as a crucial step towards cementing its status as a global scientific leader. The expectation was a warm reception, a signal that China was open to the world’s brightest minds.
However, the announcement met with a starkly different reaction from many within China: outright condemnation.
Since its intended rollout on October 1st, public forums have been awash with accusations that the government is essentially importing foreign workers to snatch jobs from Chinese citizens, particularly at a time when the nation’s youth face an increasingly bleak employment landscape. A deeper, long-standing resentment over the perceived blind worship of foreigners has also resurfaced.
This uproar has been further fueled by influential figures who have fanned the flames of nationalism and xenophobia, predicting an overwhelming influx of outsiders. For instance, when Henry Huiyao Wang, president of the Beijing-based Center for China and Globalization, publicly supported the new visa, he was swiftly branded a “race traitor” on social media, with his critics’ posts gaining thousands of shares.
The controversy intensified with a surge of racist comments targeting Indians, spurred by Indian news reports suggesting the Chinese visa could serve as an alternative to the highly sought-after H1-B visa in the United States, which now carries a substantial $100,000 fee.
The severity of the backlash prompted an unusual response from the Chinese Communist Party’s official newspaper, People’s Daily. An editorial was published, dismissing the criticisms as “outlandish” and accusing opponents of intentionally misleading the public. Even Hu Xijin, the former editor-in-chief of the nationalist Global Times tabloid, weighed in with a video defense, arguing that China actually saw fewer foreigners compared to countries like Japan or South Korea. “To be honest, it’s not that there are too many foreigners coming to China right now,” he stated, “but rather that there aren’t enough.”
This public resistance highlights a significant challenge for China: despite the United States reducing research funding and many prominent scholars considering leaving, China may still struggle to attract top international scientists.
In recent years, anti-foreign sentiment has noticeably climbed in China, coinciding with government warnings about “hostile overseas powers” and campaigns encouraging citizens to report suspected spies. Historically, China has experienced minimal inbound immigration, and substantial cultural and legal barriers continue to impede foreigners seeking long-term residency.
A similar wave of public opposition in 2020 led the government to retract proposals for slightly relaxed permanent residency rules. For context, between 2004 and 2014, China issued fewer than 5,000 permanent residency cards, according to the People’s Daily.
Even while defending the new visa, the People’s Daily editorial was careful to reassure its readership, stating that while the visa would simplify entry for young scientists, it “cannot be equated with immigration.”
Ambiguity still surrounds the visa’s actual scope. It remains unclear whether it grants the right to work or is solely for business and educational “exchanges,” as state media initially indicated. Despite the passed launch date, specific eligibility criteria are yet to be released, with officials only confirming that applicants must hold a bachelor’s degree in science, technology, math, or engineering from a top university.
The strained job market for young Chinese graduates has been a brewing crisis for years, exacerbated by China’s slowing economic growth. President Xi Jinping himself has underscored the critical importance of ensuring employment to prevent social unrest. According to figures released in August, youth unemployment in China has reached a new record high.
A popular manga author, Feng Xi Shen Lei, captured the prevailing sentiment on social media: “Among people from every walk of life, educational background and age group I’ve met, everyone says: Work is hard to find. Given the talent pool in China, I don’t believe that there’s any position in any field that must be filled by a foreigner.”
Critics also specifically questioned the bachelor’s degree requirement, pointing out that many young Chinese feel compelled to pursue advanced degrees just to compete in their fiercely competitive job market.
However, the reality of China’s job market suggests that foreign K visa holders might not directly compete with the majority of unemployed Chinese youth. This is due to a significant mismatch between labor supply and demand. While traditional sectors like real estate and education, which once absorbed many graduates, are now struggling, critical fields such as advanced manufacturing and artificial intelligence are facing severe talent shortages, requiring tens of millions more qualified individuals than China currently possesses, as per the Ministry of Education.
Despite producing the highest number of science and technology graduates globally, these professionals constitute a smaller percentage of China’s overall workforce compared to many Western nations.
Denis Simon, former executive vice chancellor of Duke Kunshan University and an advocate for U.S.-China scientific collaboration, suggested that increased transparency regarding visa criteria could alleviate public anxieties. He emphasized that Beijing’s actions clearly signal its intention to attract more foreign expertise, viewing this as a vital component of long-term reforms necessary to secure high-end talent.
(Research contributed by Siyi Zhao.)