The trend of "pretend work" is gaining traction in China as youth unemployment exceeds 14%, prompting young individuals to pay for office space to maintain a semblance of professional engagement and community, despite the economic downturn.
Young Chinese Adults Embrace "Pretend Work" Amid Job Market Struggles

Young Chinese Adults Embrace "Pretend Work" Amid Job Market Struggles
As unemployment rates soar, many young adults in China are opting to pay for the illusion of employment by joining mock offices, seeking community and dignity in a challenging economy.
In the face of a challenging job market, many young adults in China are resorting to an unorthodox solution: paying to pretend they have jobs. This phenomenon has emerged amid a sluggish economy, with youth unemployment stubbornly exceeding 14%. Rather than staying isolated at home, some prefer to invest in a "pretend work" environment, allowing them to feel as if they are contributing to society.
Shui Zhou, a 30-year-old entrepreneur whose food business collapsed in 2024, discovered a company called Pretend To Work, which operates mock offices across urban areas in China. For a daily fee of merely 30 yuan ($4.20), he joins other unemployed individuals to share a workspace in Dongguan, fostering a sense of camaraderie. "I feel very happy," he admits, appreciating how the office experience aids his self-discipline and provides a more vibrant lifestyle.
These mock offices—growing in popularity in major cities like Shenzhen, Shanghai, and Nanjing—are carefully designed to resemble real workspaces. With amenities like computers, internet access, and communal areas, they allow attendees not only to simulate a working atmosphere but also to job hunt or start their own ventures. The atmosphere can turn social, leading to friendships and shared dinners, which Mr. Zhou finds fulfilling.
Dr. Christian Yao, an expert in the Chinese economy, notes that the trend arises from a significant disconnect between education and job availability, pushing youth toward such transitional spaces for guidance and collaboration. Many clients are recent university graduates balancing social pressure from parents and the need to demonstrate productivity.
For example, Xiaowen Tang, a 23-year-old who graduated last year, used her time in a similar workspace in Shanghai to create online content while also providing proof of her internship for diploma purposes. "If you're going to fake it, just fake it to the end," she quips.
The founder of Pretend To Work, known by the pseudonym Feiyu, resonates with the struggles of his clientele, having faced unemployment himself during the pandemic. He advertises the service not merely as a workstation but as a means of retaining dignity in an otherwise difficult lifestyle. His venture serves as a paradoxical social experiment, reflecting both the desperation and resilience of young professionals in today’s economic climate.
However, the longevity of this business model is uncertain. Feiyu contemplates whether it genuinely leads to fulfilling employment or simply perpetuates an illusion. Participants like Mr. Zhou are focusing on personal development, with many aiming to acquire AI skills to enhance their employability.
The phenomenon of "pretend work" encapsulates a broader societal struggle, giving hope to many who feel trapped in a stagnant job market while allowing them to foster connections and explore their potential in a supportive environment.