Weblog with daily updates of the news on a frugal, fair and beautiful China, from the perspective of internet entrepreneur, new media advisor and president of the China Speakers Bureau Fons Tuinstra
Long working hours have changed many consumption habits for young workers in tech companies, explains consumption expert Ashley Dudarenok at her vlog. But now the 996 working culture has been banned by the government, will the world for those young tech workers become more healthy?
China’s central government has tried to fix the country’s toxic work culture, especially banning the “996” — working from 9 am to 9 pm, six days a week. But China expert Arnold Ma does not believe the workers themselves really want this, he tells Jing Daily.
The Jing Daily:
Amid mounting regulatory pressures, Chinese tech companies have been revising their policies. In July, short-video platform Kuaishou formally ended its “big week/small week” arrangement, whereby staff were forced to work an extra day every two weeks. ByteDance, Meituan, and Vivo soon followed suit. Meanwhile, ride-hailing giant Didi recently established a union for its staff after being criticized for not paying its drivers fairly — setting a precedent for fellow tech giants.
But despite these landmark moves, Arnold Ma, founder of Qumin, points out that it “feels like fixing the symptoms rather than the cause.” As he explained, China’s problems with burnout stem deeper than just late nights in the office. “[Chinese youths] are aware of the toxic work culture and long hours but they will still endure it, because they can earn more money to relieve the pressures from other aspects of life such as marriage, housing, raising children, and looking after elderly relatives.”
Overwork in China – called the 996 culture – is rampant, especially in the IT industry. The recent death of a Pinduoduo employee also shocked social commentator Zhang Lijia. For her, this cannot be solved by the industry or employees, but the government should step in, she writes in the South China Morning Post.
Zhang Lijia:
The Chinese government has done little to address the 996 regime, which clearly violates labour laws that state that workers should work for no more than eight hours a day and 44 hours a week on average.
The 996 culture makes inhuman demands on workers’ health and hurts their well-being, yet workers are left in a weak position, too often simply unable to resist their bosses’ unreasonable demands. The government should step in to protect workers, end the 996 regime, and stop capitalism in its coldest form from being practised in socialist China.
Labour laws must be strengthened and vague legal terms avoided. For example, a 1995 State Council revision of working hours stipulates that where companies are unable to give their employees their two days of weekend rest, flexible days off may be arranged in light of actual conditions. Some companies take this as an excuse to not give their workers the weekends off.
In many developed countries, labour unions try to protect workers’ interests. In China, unions exist but primarily in name only. Perhaps the authorities can give labour unions some space and allow them to play their role in easing the tension between employers and employees.
The loss of a young life is a tragedy. At the very least, I hope it spurs positive action.
Multinationals knew they were up for a hard time in fighting local brands in China, but local brands all over Asia are becoming more successful, says business analyst Shaun Reinto Industry Week. Consumers are changing their preferences to local brands.
Industry Week:
Nestle SA is losing buzz to an Indonesian coffee brand famous for brewing civet-cat feces, and L’Oreal SA is losing face to a Chinese skincare brand favored by President Xi Jinping’s wife.
Asia traditionally was considered easy money for Western multinationals, with beverage makers, cigarette brands and fast-food giants capitalizing on rising incomes and weak local competitors. A survey by China Market Research Group in 2011 showed 85% of Chinese consumers preferring foreign brands.
Those days are over. That preference dropped by half last year, and it goes beyond China: brands of Indian toothpaste, Vietnamese laundry detergent and Japanese flavored water are picking up market share with lower prices and by catering to local tastes.
Rising stars such as Indonesia’s Luwak instant coffee and China’s Pechoin moisturizers spell trouble for global titans at a time when Asia-Pacific’s economic growth is projected to outpace the world’s through 2019.
“Multinationals underestimated local competition,” said Shaun Rein, managing director for China Market Research Group. “Local players have moved very fast on emerging trends that multinationals have missed, like healthy and e-commerce.”
China and the US might be signing a first trade deal this month, economist Arthur Kroeber does not see much change. Uncoupling with economies is not possible, he argues, and the trade deal does not deal with the real problems, he tells in The New Yorker.
The New Yorker:
When Trump first imagined “uncoupling”—or “decoupling,” as it became known—the term evoked a divorce. But a complete decoupling is implausible. “Total revenue of U.S. companies and affiliates in China in 2017, for one year, is five hundred and forty-four billion dollars,” Kroeber told me. “What’s the chance these numbers can go down eighty or ninety per cent? Almost no chance. We can remove a few of those tangles, but the cost to the U.S. economy of removing them all would be unacceptably high."
Some companies—Nintendo, GoPro, Hasbro—have accelerated plans to build factories in places such as India, Vietnam, and Mexico. But most American C.E.O.s want more access to China, not less...
The truce did not resolve the core disputes, such as technology transfer, and, outside the White House, it was mostly seen as the end of a wasteful stunt. “Trump was looking for any possible excuse not to put on the tariffs that he had threatened,” Kroeber said, “so he got a promise from the Chinese to buy soybeans and some other stuff, and he packaged this.”
Tech companies in China became big by asking their workers to make long hours, 996 in jargon. But those days are over says business analyst Shaun Reinto CBS. Not only is it illegal to let people work those long hours, but qualified workers also leave their jobs, because they want to have a life next to their work too.
CBS:
The term "9-9-6" means nine in the morning to nine in the evening, six days a week. That includes hours and hours of unpaid overtime. It's illegal -- but the government turns a blind eye, because long hours build China's tech giants, like Alibaba and Huawei, that employ millions and make billions.
But change could be coming. "If you're going to have 9-9-6 work culture, I'm sorry, you're not going to be able to get the top Chinese talent anymore," said Shaun Rein of the China Market Research Group. Rein said that a decade ago, young people were inspired by the race to make China a world leader in tech. But now the thrill – and the promise of striking it rich – are largely gone.
"Younger Chinese just don't want to slave away either working for a multi-national company…" Rein said, "[or] work in a factory or even work for a Chinese billionaire like Jack Ma. And they're starting to push back."
Not everybody agrees with Shaun, though, like William Bao Bean: "Chinese tech leaders must build an environment where everyone feels they are part of a team, not just an employee, where they are empowered to make a difference."
Workers in China's tech industry have been fighting the long work hours they make, the 996 - nine to nine working, six days a week. It's difficult, admits William Bao Bean, managing director of startup accelerators Chinaccelerator and MOX, in the Asia Nikkei. The art for leaders at startups is motivating their teams.
William Bao Bean
As Alibaba Chairman Jack Ma put it: "If you find a job you like, the 996 problem does not exist. If you are not passionate about it, every minute of going to work is torture."
For new entrepreneurs to compete in China's talent marketplace, they must appeal to prospective recruits' desire to make a difference and be part of something great. They must sell this vision because they cannot match the high salaries of Alibaba or Tencent. The stock options they can offer are too uncertain to ever come into value. If there is a lack of both money and vision, the startup bosses are stuck.
Members of startup work teams are more like co-founders than employees in the traditional sense of the word and this phenomenon transcends age. College dropouts burning the midnight oil are common but most companies are led by entrepreneurs in their 30s or even 40s who lack the child-care worries common in the West because their kids are often looked after by up to four grandparents.
The 996 regime is also not limited to Chinese startups. International technology companies, both in their operations within China and in their home markets, drive hard too. The free food provided at Google company cafeterias is not just a perk but a tool to help keep employees in the office longer.
Chinese tech leaders must build an environment where everyone feels they are part of a team, not just an employee, where they are empowered to make a difference, and where they are persuaded to believe in the company's vision. Tech chiefs cannot simply demand long hours of staff and expect to retain talent in this very competitive labor market. People who see themselves as busy changing the world for the better don't tend to count the hours they spend doing it.
For a long time, working around the clock - from 9 to 9, six days a week known as the 996-rule - was common in China's startup working culture. But those times are changing, says SOSV managing director William Bao Bean, a leading voice in China's startup scene to the BBC. “China has moved from a society that was told what to do, to one that is doing what it wants to, and that’s also a millennial thing,” he says.
The BBC:
There are historical reasons behind the emergence of the 996 culture.
When China’s tech and start-up scene started to flourish in the early 2000s, most companies sought employees willing to work around the clock, something which helped some of them grow into the country’s biggest companies. Tech company Tencent, for example, is among the world’s five most valuable firms.
“For the last 10 or 15 years, the work culture has been extremely intense,” said William Bao Bean, a venture capitalist and the managing director of start-up accelerator Chinaccelerator.
And because China’s tech companies, who were among the first adopters of unpaid overtime, are now the largest employers, companies in other fields have also started to make their staffs work longer hours in a bid to match their success.
The normalisation of unpaid overtime led to the invention of the phrase 996 – but Bao Bean says the very existence of the phrase is also a sign that attitudes might be changing.
“The fact that there is now a word for it and that we are having a conversation about this shows that the market is maturing,” he says.
However, Bao Bean says that people who like their work environments are not grumbling about the hours. Companies who inspire their employees offer good compensation packages and that are prestigious can find people to work 996 without complaint, he says.
“China has moved from a society that was told what to do, to one that is doing what it wants to, and that’s also a millennial thing,” he says.
