The Anthropologist China Youth Treat as an Idol in Anxious Times

An Academic Fan Meeting in Singapore

In a packed auditorium in Singapore, about 500 people gathered to hear a lecture in Mandarin that lasted more than an hour. Most of the audience came from the Chinese diaspora. Many were students or recent graduates in their twenties. When the session ended, dozens lined up to meet the speaker, shake his hand and take photos together. One attendee called it an academic fan meeting. The mood felt closer to a pop concert than a university seminar, even though the person on stage was a 54 year old scholar.

The speaker was Biao Xiang, director of the Max Planck Institute for Social Anthropology in Germany, where he studies social change in China and other parts of Asia. He has spoken at leading Chinese universities, including his alma mater Peking University. Earlier this year, one campus talk drew such a large crowd that organizers had to stream it live to viewers outside the hall. He has also given interviews to major Chinese outlets. A saying now circulates among students that when in doubt, they should ask Biao Xiang.

A 23 year old Chinese graduate who attended the Singapore event spoke as a job seeker worried about her future. She asked not to be named because she feared that talking to foreign media could hurt her chances back home. She explained that leaving school now brings deep uncertainty and that many classmates look for a steady voice they can trust.

People need an anchor in life. His words make us feel there is someone who gets us.

Her comment points to the core of Xiang appeal. He talks openly about anxiety, pressure and the difficulty of moving into adult life. Zihan Han, another young fan in Singapore, described him as a star sent from the heavens. For her and others, the appeal lies less in quick advice than in the sense that an established scholar is willing to name feelings they carry every day.

Why a 54 Year Old Professor Became an Idol

At first glance, Xiang does not fit the image of an idol. He is not a singer, actor or athlete. He is a scholar in his fifties known for fieldwork and theory. Yet young Chinese people use the word idol to describe him without irony. They share clips of his talks, quote his phrases online and travel across cities to hear him in person. The contrast has drawn attention outside China as well, a sign that his message touches concerns felt far beyond one campus.

Part of the draw comes from timing. Cities and the tech sector in China grew at swift pace over the past four decades. Living standards rose, transport links expanded and many families saw incomes climb year after year. For people born after 2000, however, the path forward looks less certain. The shift from classroom to workplace feels abrupt. Questions about jobs, relationships and how to keep pace with social expectations weigh heavily. Xiang speaks to those questions in plain language.

He frames the moment as a turning point. He sees a powerful country with fast systems alongside young citizens who feel unsure and tired. China leader Xi Jinping has described the central tension of this era as the gap between people ever growing needs for a better life and uneven development that has not yet met those needs. Xiang, working from anthropology, tries to describe how that large gap feels in daily life. That effort to put feelings into plain terms helps explain his following.

Floating Lives and the Search for the Nearby

Two phrases linked to Xiang give a flavor of his style. The first is floating. He uses the image to describe people who work without pause simply to stay in place, like a hummingbird that must keep beating its wings to remain in the air. Many young workers say the image fits their days, filled with overtime, messages after hours and constant comparison with peers. They feel busy yet stuck, spending energy without moving ahead.

The second phrase is the nearby. Xiang argues that attention today clusters at two extremes. People focus on the very near, meaning the self, looks, mood and personal success, and on the very far, meaning world events, markets and distant crises. The space in between gets less care. That middle space includes neighbors, local shops, community ties, shared habits and everyday give and take with people around us. When that middle fades, he suggests, people feel cut off even while staying connected online.

Xiang, speaking as an anthropologist who has spent years studying migration and city life, said his task is to describe this unease in ways people can use. He believes naming a feeling makes it less frightening and easier to examine.

Everyone knows where the issue is, but they are reluctant to look at it. As an academic, it is not terrifying if you can describe it. That is how you analyse and manage it.

The response online suggests many listeners find relief in that approach. One user on RedNote, the lifestyle platform popular with young Chinese speakers, praised Xiang for viewing problems from the side of ordinary people in vulnerable positions and for linking personal stress to larger social causes. Another wrote that he avoids empty comfort and instead sits with people inside real dilemmas. For readers tired of slogans, that tone feels honest.

Jobs Houses and Degrees Behind the Pressure

To understand why these ideas spread, it helps to look at the pressures shaping youth life. The economy slowed during the Covid years and the rebound has been weaker than many hoped. The old promise that sustained effort in school would lead to a secure post no longer holds for all graduates. Youth unemployment reached 21.3 percent before authorities paused publication of the figure in mid 2023. Even those with respected posts as civil servants, company staff or engineers speak of worry about layoffs and stalled promotion.

Much daily talk centers on the curse of 35, an informal cutoff seen in many job ads after which applicants find it harder to get hired. Workers post about long shifts, intense overtime and office cultures that leave little rest. Competition starts early with the national college entrance exam and continues through internships, graduate study and civil service tests. Each stage demands high scores, certificates and polished resumes. With so many candidates chasing similar posts, effort rises while rewards stay flat for many.

Xiang, speaking as a researcher of social change, described the scale of that shared script in one pointed sentence that now circulates widely among students and young workers.

When 1.4 billion people are all in the same race, that is involution.

That single sentence links personal fatigue to numbers anyone can grasp. It moves the story away from blame directed at individuals and toward patterns that shape whole cohorts. Listeners say this shift matters. It allows them to see stress as a common outcome rather than a private failure.

Lying Flat and Involution in Everyday Language

Two buzzwords capture the mood. Lying flat refers to stepping back from relentless competition, choosing simpler work, lower spending or slower rhythms. Involution refers to intense rivalry that demands more input without adding much value, like students spending extra hours to gain a tiny edge that soon vanishes when everyone does the same. Both terms have trended for years in chats, memes and comment sections. They give people a shorthand for exhaustion that feels hard to explain to parents or managers.

Because open talk about discontent can be sensitive and subject to controls, direct measures of public mood are hard to obtain. Yet the strain surfaces in heated online debate about exams, bride price customs, food safety incidents and workplace rules. Small events can trigger large reactions, a sign that pressure sits close to the surface. Xiang calls this the pain point of the times. He does not present fast cures. He offers terms and stories that help people place their experience inside a wider picture.

That stance sets him apart from typical success advice. He does not tell young people to simply work harder or think positively. He suggests that seeking approval from formal systems, from test scores to job titles, can drain energy when it becomes the main measure of worth. He encourages listeners to find meaning through contact with others and to use those ties to understand themselves better. For many, the message lands as permission to step off a narrow track and rebuild daily life around closer ties.

A Scholar Who Chose Public Conversation

The path to public attention grew from decades of research. Born in 1972, he came of age as China moved from the turmoil of the Mao years toward trade, city growth and private business. He grew up in Wenzhou, where small workshops and family firms spread quickly. He recalls a landscape of small business owners where schooling mattered less than practical skill and where the central question was how to earn a living. Many households in that era found a foothold and their children entered a period of fast growth with rising expectations.

About three years ago, Xiang began to sense that his audience had changed. After he spoke at a camp for digital nomads, organizers raised prices, a sign that his name could draw paying visitors. Invitations from campuses, bookstores and media multiplied. Some fellow academics reacted coolly. They prized journal papers and peer review and warned him to cherish his feathers, a Chinese expression for guarding reputation. He listened, yet he kept accepting public invitations because he felt the conversation mattered.

Xiang, speaking as a scholar turned public speaker, addressed the label of influencer in a recent interview. He said he would take the term as praise if it meant helping more people think for themselves.

If someone calls me an influencer I will take it as a compliment. Because the real influence I can have is to make people think for themselves.

The line reflects his method. He prefers open talks, long question sessions and plain terms over slogans. Fans respond with detailed notes, fan art and pages of quotes. Zihan summed up the appeal by saying that people with similar views lack his academic standing, while many with his standing have stayed silent on these topics. In her view, his willingness to speak plainly is what makes him rare.

What His Rise Reveals About China Today

His popularity does not mean anxiety has a simple fix. He offers no plan for jobs, housing or exams. What he offers is language and company. By describing floating and the loss of the nearby, he gives listeners tools to talk with friends, family and coworkers. By linking stress to housing, schooling and shared scripts, he helps them place private worry inside public patterns. That step can ease shame and open room for small choices, from rebuilding local ties to rethinking timelines for marriage or home purchase.

The story also shows how ideas travel under limits on speech. Sharp objection carries risk. Careful terms, stories and academic frames can move further. Talks that fill halls in Beijing can also fill halls in Singapore, where diaspora youth face related pressures around visas, work and identity. The interest in his story across languages and regions shows that questions about work and worth cross borders even when local details differ.

For officials, educators and employers, the message is sobering. A generation with more schooling than any before it still feels insecure. Credentials alone do not confer calm. Security tied to property looks fragile when prices wobble. Workplaces that reward endless availability burn out the very staff they need. Xiang does not claim to solve these strains. He asks audiences to look at them directly, to rebuild the middle layer of life around them and to measure worth through ties with others rather than approval from above.

At a Glance

• Biao Xiang is a 54 year old anthropologist and director of the Max Planck Institute for Social Anthropology in Germany.
• About 500 people, mostly Chinese diaspora, attended his Mandarin talk in Singapore, with many queuing for photos.
• His campus talks in China draw full houses, with one Peking University event streamed live.
• He describes overwork as floating and calls for renewed attention to the nearby, meaning everyday community ties.
• Youth unemployment hit 21.3 percent before data publication paused in mid 2023, while many workers fear the curse of 35.
• He links pressure to housing costs tied to land finance and to expanded university enrollment that raised competition.
• Terms like lying flat and involution capture opting out and rivalry without added value.
• He welcomes the influencer label as praise for helping people think for themselves.