The gaokao effect: how China’s rigorous exam influences aspirations and social mobility

In the second and final instalment of a two-part series on China’s pivotal national college entrance examination, or gaokao, the SCMP explores the evolution of the country’s contemporary examination system and its ongoing influence on societal and familial expectations.This year, China’s gaokao saw 12.9 million candidates, representing the second consecutive year of decline. Despite this trend, the gaokao remains critical – a demanding competition that profoundly impacts students’ university choices, career paths, social mobility, and potentially their futures.Xue Haibo, a history professor at Nanjing Normal University, shared with the SCMP that while the gaokao has lost its function as a pathway to officialdom, it still carries significant cultural weight reminiscent of China’s imperial examination system.According to Xue, the enduring belief that knowledge can alter one’s destiny has persisted for centuries, highlighting the emphasis Chinese families and the state place on education.A gaokao pass issued in 1979 served as a crucial identification tool for students before taking the exam. Photo: HandoutOriginating from the Sui dynasty (581–618), the imperial examination system, known as keju, offered commoner men a rare opportunity for bureaucratic entry and social advancement.After centuries of adaptation, the Qing government (1644–1912) abolished the keju in 1905, arguing that its rigid curriculum could not meet the needs of a modernising nation. The cancellation of the keju is widely regarded among Chinese scholars as a crucial turning point in the development of modern education in the country.Following 1905, modern schools began to proliferate nationwide, with disciplines like mathematics, physics, and engineering gradually usurping the Confucian classics’ dominance. Specialised and vocational schools in fields like medicine, agriculture, sericulture, and commerce also emerged with state support.Following a hiatus of a decade during the Cultural Revolution (1966-76), the revival of the gaokao exam in 1977 held immense significance, as shown by students studying in Beijing in 1981. Photo: Liu Heung ShingDuring this period, enrolment in modern schools surged by over 100,000 within seven years. A growing number of Chinese students began studying abroad, albeit in relatively small numbers compared to the present.Xu Hui, a political-science professor at Xiamen University, noted that China’s first modern scientists and technical experts emerged in the wake of the keju’s abolition. By the early 20th century, returned overseas students like geologist Zhang Hongzhao, railway engineer Zhan Tianyou, and chemist Yu Heqin were reshaping the scientific landscape of the nation.Xu pointed out that unlike their ancient counterparts, bound to imperial authority, the new intellectuals embraced science, individual autonomy, and ideals of freedom and equality.After the founding of the People’s Republic of China in 1949, when illiteracy was estimated to be around 80 per cent, the nationwide gaokao was introduced in 1952 in an effort to elevate educational standards. That inaugural year saw 59,000 individuals take the exam.Further ReadingThe test was temporarily suspended due to political upheaval, only to be reinstated in 1977. Since then, it has become a cornerstone of China’s education system, with assessments in subjects like Chinese, mathematics, English, and either science or humanities.Students who do not perform well on the gaokao often turn to community colleges as a vital backup option. Above, two parents are seen poring over relevant documents to assist their child. Photo: HandoutIn densely populated provinces such as Henan and Guangdong, fewer than 40 per cent of candidates secure university positions, underscoring the fierce competition.To ensure fairness, the gaokao is safeguarded by stringent security measures. Teachers who develop the exam questions are reportedly confined for about a month in secure facilities. The papers are often printed by high-security units, including prisons, where waste disposal and drainage systems are closely monitored to prevent leaks.Armed convoys transport the exam papers along designated routes using satellite tracking and live monitoring. Upon arrival at test centres, the papers are stored in secure rooms equipped with iron doors, barred windows, locked cabinets, and round-the-clock guards. Entry usually necessitates passing through three doors, each requiring keys held by different individuals.Beyond the venues, the annual gaokao also transforms into a high-stakes national event. From June 7 to 9, parents gather outside test centres clad in qipao dresses or holding sunflowers. The dress symbolises “victory from the start,” phonetically resonating with the term qipao, while sunflowers represent “success in a single attempt.”In the aftermath of the 2008 Sichuan earthquake, authorities established makeshift classrooms, tents, and hospital testing sites, enabling displaced and injured secondary school students to take the gaokao. Photo: HandoutSome families resort to “smart drugs,” despite state media warnings about possible side effects like insomnia, palpitations, or dependency among healthy children. Others seek oxygen inhalation before the exam, believing it revitalises brain energy.This pressure has also fuelled a booming education sector, creating lucrative markets for advice on exam strategies, university majors, and career paths. Consultants like the late Zhang Xuefeng gained fame as online celebrities, while “gaokao factories,” known for militarised discipline and rigorous testing, appeal to parents as short cuts to elite universities.