Abstract
Introduction
The so-called developed world has been deindustrialized where many semiskilled or unskilled jobs of industries in the secondary sector have been relocated to the so-called developing world (e.g., Gibson-Graham, 2006; Krinsky, 2008); what are then found in the former are essentially low-paid unskilled jobs and high-paid prestigious professional and managerial jobs. Professional or managerial jobs usually require a higher qualification. Given such structural changes in the labor market, it is generally believed that without a higher qualification, social mobility—specifically into a privileged class of professionals and managers—would be blocked for the youth in developed capitalist societies. How far social mobility is blocked for the youth—of different classes, genders, or ethnicities—is an empirical question. Without changing the structure of the labor market, many governments seek to address the issue of the youth’s blocked social mobility through education. To promote youth’s social mobility into a privileged class of professionals and managers, an expansion of higher education, especially that of university education, is used as a policy wrapped up in a neoliberal discourse on competition and individualism (e.g., choice, enterprising, and self-reliance).
Neoliberalism, despite its various meanings, refers to market-oriented policies. Public services are treated as commodities, and market principles, rather than state interventions, are believed to regulate their operation. Consequently, when higher education is regarded as a commodity, the survival of its suppliers (i.e., tertiary institutions) is contingent on their ability to attract customers (i.e., students). Against a neoliberal context, an entrepreneurial model of financing and service is adopted for the higher education sector so that universities and postsecondary institutions in general are forced to compete for resources and for students (Breneman, 2005; Lynch, 2006). To attract students, higher education is then packaged as a marketable qualification for investment (Scott, 1995). As a result, individualism and competition embraced by neoliberalism take a very specific form for the youth in a deindustrialized era: The youth are urged to invest in at least obtaining a bachelor’s degree so that they will become socially mobile into a privileged class of professionals and managers (cf. Mitchell, 2003).
In short, many governments in developed capitalist societies seek to adopt an individualistic solution implied in neoliberalism to solve the structural problem of blocked social mobility in a new labor market. They do so by helping the youth to help themselves in getting ahead through acquiring an advantaged qualification. Consequently, the cost for tackling such structural problems is borne by the youth rather than by the government. However, what the youth have to bear are not merely all costs and risks, financial or otherwise (Archer & Hutchings, 2000), but the blame when such investment fails. Such consequences have been understood as impacts of neoliberalism on social unfairness (Giroux, 2014).
A higher qualification, when it becomes more accessible, is perceived as not enough to secure a high-paid job—let alone a high-paid prestigious professional or managerial job—in the labor market (Tomlinson, 2008; Tymon, 2013). As Christie (2009) argues and demonstrates, when the youth are expected to bear all costs of pursuing a bachelor’s degree and when the expected economic and social returns to a bachelor’s degree decrease or even become uncertain in a deindustrialized era, such a pursuit could be an emotionally straining endeavor. This emotional consequence suggests an emotive operation of neoliberalism in higher education.
In following Christie’s (2009) argument, this article seeks to argue further that seeking a second chance in view of neoliberalism could also be an emotional pursuit in a deindustrialized capitalist context, and thus another illustration of an emotive operation of neoliberalism in higher education. To this end, I shall refer to educational experiences of community-college students in Hong Kong. Hong Kong is an interesting case for illustration for two reasons. First, an achievement ideology in line with neoliberalism is dominant in Hong Kong: It is widely believed that Hong Kong is a land of opportunity where talented and hardworking individuals can get ahead (Wong, 2012). The second reason is that Hong Kong has been undergoing deindustrialization since the 1980s: Its manufacturing sector has been relocated to China or other developing southeast Asian countries and is now only taken up by 3.8% of the working population; meanwhile, only about 17% of the working population have a high-paid prestigious professional or managerial job (Hong Kong Census and Statistics Department, 2016). Against this context, it is reported that the possibility of social mobility into a privileged class of professionals and managers for the youth is contingent on their class background (Wong & Koo, 2016). Given the advocacy of neoliberalism, the youth are individually encouraged to become competitive in getting a professional or managerial job through making an investment in higher education. Indeed, ever since an education reform launched in 2000, the sector of higher education in Hong Kong has been expanding, increasing the accessibility of a bachelor’s degree. This expansion, however, is accompanied by a decrease in returns to a bachelor’s degree: The average monthly income for fresh university graduates has remained frozen at around HK$10,000 (US$1 = HK$7.8) since 2000, when the reported median monthly income was also somehow frozen at around HK$10,000 (Hong Kong Census and Statistics Department, 2006, 2016).
In what follows, I review the relevant literature on the emotional aspect of students’ experiences in higher education and highlight that the emotional aspect of seeking a second chance is under-researched. Then, I provide an overview of recent changes in higher education in Hong Kong, underscoring the emergence of a new second chance of getting into university because of the community-college policy launched in 2000. After that, I describe the research design of two qualitative studies on which the educational experiences of 83 respondents are drawn for this article. Analyzing respondents’ experiences thematically, I refer to the emotional aspect of their pursuit of a second chance to illustrate an emotive operation of neoliberalism in high education.
The Emotional Aspect of Students’ Experiences in Higher Education
A continuous expansion of higher education in many developed capitalist societies makes a bachelor’s degree more accessible, particularly making room at university for students of a disadvantaged background (e.g., working-class students, low-income students, mature students, female students, single-parent students, or students of an ethnic minority; Spiegler & Bednarek, 2013). However, educational inequality persists. In particular, the completion rate of university students of a disadvantaged background is of concern. Apart from finances, it is argued that educational experiences of university students in general and the emotional aspect of such experiences in particular (Reay, 2005; Sayer, 2005) should be of relevance to understanding the operation of inequality—along the dimensions of class, gender, and ethnicity—in higher education.
Most studies on educational experiences of university students essentially focus on working-class or first-generation or untraditional university students to illustrate the operation of educational inequality in university; where their emotional aspect is concerned, two major focuses could be distinguished (Christie, 2009). The first is the academic and social frustration of disadvantaged students as newcomers to university resulting from their lack of the required academic (e.g., language and research skills) and communications skills, conceptualized as a lack of cultural and social capital, respectively (e.g., Christie et al., 2004; Delvin, 2013; Delvin & O’Shea, 2011; McKay & Delvin, 2014; Reay, 1998). Studies with this focus provide an explanation for a relatively low completion rate of a bachelor’s degree for disadvantaged students. The second focus is the contradictory feelings of disadvantaged students about their identity (trans)formation (e.g., Aries & Seider, 2005; Christie et al., 2008; Friedman, 2016; Kaufman & Feldman, 2004; Lawler, 1999; Leathwood & O’Connell, 2003; Loveday, 2014; Read et al., 2003; Reay et al., 2010) especially the academically extraordinarily successful working-class students studying in a British elite university or a U.S. Ivy League college (e.g., Aries & Seider, 2007; Granfield, 1991; Lee & Kramer, 2013; Reay et al., 2009). Studies with this focus illustrate the emotive operation of educational inequality—in the form of emotional injuries (cf. Sennett & Cobb, 1972)—throughout the course of pursuing a bachelor’s degree for disadvantaged students; mental health of university students of different backgrounds could surely be another line of inquiry for further empirical investigations.
Given Boler’s (1999) view that emotions operate in specific social and historical contexts mediated by ideologies and values specific to the contexts, the abovementioned studies, with either focus, suggest an emotive operation of neoliberalism in higher education. Indeed, Christie (2009) argues that in an increasingly competitive context dominated by a self-reliant discourse advocated in neoliberalism, the transition to university per se is an emotional endeavor. Students find a pursuit of a bachelor’s degree against this context stressful, because they are required to bear all the costs (including making loans to support their studies) but monetary and social returns to a higher qualification decrease or become uncertain (cf. Carey, 2015). Although it is not new to argue that neoliberalism justifies the existing inequality by putting the blame on individuals and thus leaving the unequal opportunity structure unchallenged (Giroux, 2014), Christie’s argument points to an emotive operation of such blame implicit in neoliberalism for individuals for further exploration.
An expansion of higher education surely allows more students to get directly into university, but this also makes it possible for students to seek a second chance. Community college in Hong Kong could be an example of a second chance. By original design in the United States, community college is a multifunction institution where remedial, junior-year college level, and vocational/developmental courses are offered to students with different goals (e.g., Cohen & Brawer, 2003; Raby & Valeau, 2009); but considerable scholarly effort has been made to examine the transfer function of community college serving as a different pathway to university and thus its roles in educational inequality by focusing on attrition, retention, and transferal (Alfonso, 2006; Bahr, 2008; Dennis et al., 2008; Tinto, 1993, 2012; Townsend, 2001; Townsend & Wilson, 2006). Not much has been done to examine the emotional aspect of educational experiences of community-college students, except for the so-called transfer shock for students transferred to a 4-year college (e.g., Flaga, 2006; Grites, 2013; Townsend, 2008). Community colleges in Hong Kong are rather different from their counterparts in the United States: As will be discussed further below, nearly all students enroll in community colleges in Hong Kong are not mature students but students of the relevant age who fail to get straight into university through the public examination(s) and seek a second chance through the transfer function of community college. If under neoliberalism any failure to obtain a bachelor’s degree is devastating, then it must be quite emotionally straining to make a second attempt. In seeking a second chance, the youth, supposedly, at least have to cope with frustration resulting from the failure of their first attempt and also to bear extra cost (e.g., taking more time). What remain underexplored are their emotional struggles. This article seeks to take up this exploration by examining the emotional struggles of students seeking a second chance in Hong Kong through community college and then to discuss how far their emotional struggles could be regarded as an illustration of an emotive operation of neoliberalism in higher education. Before further discussion, I shall offer an overview of recent changes in higher education in Hong Kong.
Recent Changes in Higher Education in Hong Kong
The education system in Hong Kong is examination oriented, and academic credentials are seen as linked directly to the pays and benefits and social status of prospective occupations (Cheung & Rudowicz, 2003). This emphasis on examinations (rather than education), and thus on competition (rather than learning), is in line with the so-called traditional Chinese view on education even back in Imperial China (e.g., Ho, 1976), arguably influenced by the teaching underlying Confucianism; and, this influence perhaps also characterizes the education systems in East Asian countries. Over the last few decades, social mobility through education in Hong Kong has become more institutionalized (Wong & Koo, 2016). Many students in Hong Kong aim for a bachelor’s degree essentially because they believe that the degree will lead them to a well-paid job, preferably a professional or managerial one. Whether students in Hong Kong indeed prefer a 4-year university education and/or a professional or managerial job and whether such a preference is culturally specific to the youth in East Asia could be empirically examined further (cf. Mok, 2012).
Given a continuous expansion of higher education, Hong Kong has been on its way to become a mass higher education system (Trow, 1973). Before the early 1990s, there were only two universities for less than 5% of school leavers (i.e., students graduating from secondary schools; or students of the relevant age), but at present, there are 21 degree-awarding institutions, eight being publicly funded universities that provide a set quota of places for 15,000 (equivalent to about 16%–22% of) school leavers annually (Hong Kong Education Bureau). The community-college policy launched in 2000 was initially designed to respond to a supposedly booming knowledge economy that demanded a highly educated labor force; by offering an associate degree as a terminal subdegree, the policy was intended to increase the proportion of school leavers with a postsecondary (rather than a university) qualification from about 34% to 60% in 10 years (Education Commission Report, 2000). Perhaps unintentionally, the community-college policy brings in two changes to the Hong Kong education system: First, it provides an alternative route to university; and second, it somehow leads to a new hierarchy in university education.
Before the launch of the community-college policy, there was only one pathway to university: passing the required public examination(s). Before 2012, there were two examinations—the Hong Kong Certificate of Education Examination (HKCEE; taken at about age 16) and the Hong Kong Advanced Level Examination (HKALE; taken at about age 18). Since 2012, there has been only one examination—the Hong Kong Diploma of Secondary Education Examination (HKDSE; taken at about age 17). Community colleges aim to offer associate degree programs to those failing the public examination(s) (specifically pre-associate degree programs to those failing HKCEE and associate degree programs to those failing HKDSE or HKALE before 2012) and create new pathways to university, and thus, a new second chance from year 2000 onward (Wong, 2015).
Community college is an idea borrowed from the United States, whereby it is an inexpensive multifunction tertiary institution open to all (American Association of Community Colleges). Its counterpart in Hong Kong is different in the three aspects of tuition, admission, and function (Wong, 2015). With minimal subsidies from the government, community colleges in Hong Kong, as self-financing tertiary institutions, have to rely on tuition fees to balance their finances. On average, their annual tuition is higher than that of a publicly funded university (i.e., HK$42,100), ranging between HK$52,000 and HK$74,000 (Hong Kong Education Bureau). This is not affordable to every family (students usually rely on their parents for financial support for their studies) in Hong Kong, where the reported median monthly household income was around HK$17,000 in 2006 and HK$25,000 in 2016 (Hong Kong Census and Statistics Department, 2006, 2016). Community colleges are encouraged to adopt the principle of “lenient entry and stringent exit,” but usually set some, albeit different, entrance requirements to avoid the accusation of selling diplomas. To attract students, community colleges take advantage of students’ preference of a 4-year university education and promote the transfer function of the associate degree rather than taking it as a terminal subdegree. Nearly all community-college students in Hong Kong are not mature students—who may decide to take a developmental program in the middle of their careers or in their retirement—but school leavers who fail the public examination(s) and aim for transferal, preferably to local publicly funded universities. Unlike some of their U.S. counterparts who deliberately take community college as an inexpensive alternative route to university, nearly all community-college students in Hong Kong take the option of community college as a second chance if their first attempt of getting into university through the public examination(s) fails.
Despite community colleges’ promotion of transferal, there is no articulation between community colleges and local publicly funded universities. The Hong Kong government, given its intention stated above, initially only spared a few hundred senior-year places in publicly funded degree programs for transferal (Education and Manpower Bureau, 2008). Under great social pressure, and also partly because some community-college students committed suicide after failing to get transferred in the early 2000s, the government drastically increased the number of places for transferal over the last decade. The target announced in 2012 was to increase the number gradually to 4,000 (first-year and senior-year places; Hong Kong Education Bureau). Consequently, transfer students have become a significant minority in some publicly funded universities. What still makes the pursuit of an associate degree risky is that it remains uncertain whether an associate degree, if transferal fails, will be recognized by prospective employers, rendering in doubt the instrumental worth of the associate degree in the labor market apart from its transfer function. Because of an increasing demand for degree programs by associate-degree holders, given the annual set quota policy (i.e., only 15,000 relevant-age students will be accepted by publicly funded universities), a variety of new self-financing and top-up degree programs, albeit with lesser prestige perceived by students, have also been offered by many tertiary local and overseas institutions (including some new local private universities). All these changes increased the transfer rate drastically over the years—from less than 3% in 2007 (Ming Pao, 2007) to around 25% to 35% in 2012 (Ming Pao, 2012). But transferal was then meant transferal to any degree program rather than to a publicly funded one. Meanwhile, such an increase in supply of bachelor’s degrees leads to a new hierarchy in university education in Hong Kong, where bachelor’s degrees are ranked by university, by subject, and by program (cf. Brown et al., 2010). According to public perception, eight publicly funded universities are ranked higher than non–publicly funded universities; degrees in law and medicine are ranked higher than degrees in education and humanities; and publicly funded programs are ranked at the top, and top-up programs at the bottom, with self-financing programs in the middle. Returns to these bachelor’s degrees are also assumed to vary according to their perceived rankings.
Two Qualitative Studies in Hong Kong
Respondents for this article are drawn from two qualitative studies on students with experience studying in a community college: The first study is a longitudinal study of community-college students begun in 2006; and the second study is an ongoing study of transfer students begun in 2017 in a publicly funded university.
Given the newness of community college in Hong Kong at the time, the first study was started as an exploratory study of the experiences of local community-college students. I targeted four classes of students taking my 2006 course titled “Introduction to Sociology.” I continued this study in 2009 and recruited students taking the same course taught by my colleagues. In total, 85 respondents (52 being students of mine and 33 referred to me by a former colleague) were interviewed in 2006 and 2009 for the first time (when most were aged 22, ranging from 21 to 24 years). The recruitment and first interviews with students taught by me did not begin until my professional relationship with them ended. During the first interviews, the 85 respondents talked about their experiences of taking the option of community college as a second chance of their college life. In 2010 and 2011, I conducted 64 follow-up interviews to trace whether, and if so, to which programs respondents transferred to, and guided them to evaluate their transfer experiences and talk about their future plans.
Given my research interest and experience in sociology of education and community college, I was invited to take up the second ongoing study. To date, I have interviewed 40 students (aged, on average, 21 years, ranging from 20 to 25 years) taught by three faculties. Respondents were asked to look back on their experiences of seeking a second chance through community college and talk about their adaptation at university and their future plans.
Most interviews of the two studies, which were semi-structured, took about an hour, ranging from 45 minutes to 3 hours. All interviews were taped, transcribed, and translated into English from Cantonese, the major local dialect in Hong Kong. Transcriptions were coded manually and analyzed with reference to specific concepts so as to see whether there were any emerging themes. The interview material of the first study has been used, after being coded and analyzed with reference to various concepts, to address a number of issues in relation to class inequality in education, as well as to social legitimation through self-evaluation (e.g., Wong, 2016, 2017, 2019; Wong & Tse, 2017).
What will be analyzed below are the educational experiences of transfer students who were successfully bridged to publicly funded university in their second attempt and their emotional struggles: 43 community-college students (17 males and 26 females, out of 64 respondents who were interviewed twice) from the first study and 40 university students (19 males and 21 females) from the second study. The 43 community-college students are from the same community college transferring to different publicly funded universities. The 40 university students transferred to the same publicly funded university from different community colleges. Whereas the first study essentially focuses on respondents’ educational experiences at community college in seeking a transferal, the second study focuses on respondents’ adaptation at university. The two studies, despite their different focuses, provide detailed information on the respondents’ experiences of seeking a second chance of getting into university through community college.
Despite seeking a second chance at different times, their experiences and emotional struggles were strikingly similar. Specifically, three emotive themes that emerged are of relevance for present purposes of illustrating an emotive operation of neoliberalism for seeking a second chance in higher education: their sense of inferiority, their stress about standing out from the crowd, and their anxiety about being seen as inadequate. The analysis undertaken below is structured thematically and substantiated with some selected quotations of respondents (in fictitious names). The generalizability of the findings reported below could be challenged, statistically rather than theoretically by positivists or quantitative researchers; doubts might also be cast on the reliability and validity of the analysis that involves my interpretation of respondents’ (re)construction of their educational experiences. However, what is usually valued in qualitative research is the authenticity of its data, whereby the data are collected through personal relationships in natural rather than artificial laboratory settings. The respondents’ trust in me—either as their former teacher or as a sociologist who understands their struggles—made them feel at ease in sharing their emotional struggles.
An Emotional Pursuit?
Against a neoliberal context, as well as an examination-oriented Chinese context, individuals are required to compete and beat others, rather than evaluated on their own terms. The educational failure of respondents would lead them not only to turn inward to explain the failure (thus destroying their academic confidence) but also to deny their self-worth. Indeed, all respondents blamed themselves for failing to get straight into university (e.g., “I am academically incapable” and “I’m not academic material”) and were devastated by their public examination results (e.g., “My greatest setback is failing HKALE” and “Failing HKALE makes me realize that I’m so incapable”; as also quoted in Wong, 2016; Wong & Tse, 2017). Consequently, many respondents called themselves “losers” of the education system or were aware of being seen as such (as discussed elsewhere, Wong, 2016). Somehow, their self-blame and devastation could be seen as some emotional impacts of neoliberalism.
Despite the failure of their first attempt, respondents all expressed in the interviews that they still wanted to get into university because they believed a bachelor’s degree was required for a well-paid prestigious job. Having no confidence in doing any better even if they were to retake the public examination(s), all respondents were attracted to the newness of community college in seeking a second chance (cf. Bloomer & Hodkinson, 2000). In promoting themselves to prospective students, many community colleges underscored their liberal-arts orientation, their adoption of continuous assessment, and their emphasis on peer/cooperative learning through group work. Many respondents, especially those of disadvantaged backgrounds, had to overcome financial obstacles (e.g., making a student loan) in choosing this new expensive option. Most respondents, given a lack of social recognition of the associate degree in the labor market, were anxiously concerned that transferal failure would lead them to a job with a salary level similar to that obtained by school leavers without this subdegree, as was reported elsewhere (Wong, 2017).
Given the advocacy of competition and individualism in neoliberalism, this second chance, in addition to financial pressure and anxiety about an uncertain future (Christie, 2009), also brought respondents the following negative emotions: perverse feelings of inferiority, stress from standing out from the crowd, and anxiety from being seen as inadequate even after transferal. These negative emotions make respondents more competitive and direct them away from critical examinations of the structural setup but blame themselves for not being competitive enough. This leads me to suggest that the emotive operation of neoliberalism be of a self-generative nature.
Perverse Feelings of Inferiority
A new second chance of getting into university through the transfer function of an associate degree became possible in Hong Kong with the launch of the community-college policy; this second chance, however, is essentially taken by those devastated by their failure in the public examination(s) and is seen as inferior or second rate. As with many people in Hong Kong, many respondents regard community college as an inferior place for so-called “losers” like them, as Ivan makes explicit: Community college is basically for “losers” like us who fail the public examinations . . . Of course, the public would see us as inferior to students who succeed in getting straight into university. (Ivan, first study, first interview)
Although some respondents did not see themselves as “losers” or feel inferior about studying at community college, they still resent being looked down on (e.g., “I was annoyed at their looks when I answered my aunts and uncles where I was studying.”). Avoiding such “looks” may be a reason for some respondents’ reluctance of disclosing that they were community-college students, their hiding this fact (e.g., “I won’t tell people that I’m studying here if I’m not asked.”), or even their lying about it (e.g., “I’ll tell people I’m studying in ‘a university’ (of which a community college is a part of the extension arm of the university) rather than the community college.”). Their avoidance, hiding, and lying indicated that these respondents somehow cared about being judged negatively on seeking a second chance at a community college.
Admitting it or not, most respondents felt inferior about seeking a second chance at a community college. This could be inferred by the fact that some respondents made self-defeating comments about themselves (e.g., “If I were good, I’d not have been studying in a community college”) or harsh comments on other community-college students (e.g., “They’re not any better than me; like me they’re just losers of the education system” and “They won’t be here if they’re good”). Beneath such self-defeating or harsh comments is a sense of bitterness for respondents being negatively judged by the public. Yet, what constitutes this sense of bitterness is not dissatisfaction with the public standard or its implied competitiveness but the fact that respondents are perceived as inferior in such competition. Respondents seemed ingrained with such a sense of competitiveness and instrumentalism toward education. Besides, an emphasis of neoliberalism on competition and individualism does not simply make respondents feel inferior about seeking a new second chance, but also makes respondents judge themselves and others by their academic scores and social status rather than by their knowledge or character, putting narrowly defined academic excellence above human excellence (Berube & Nelson, 1995). In a way, their feelings of inferiority were perverse also because they led respondents to see themselves and others not as human but as scores.
Feelings of inferiority, as well as self-blame, could arguably be seen as inherent in a hierarchical educational context. Nevertheless, just as it remains to be seen whether students in the West reading a degree in a low-ranking university feel inferior (cf. Read et al., 2003; Reay et al., 2001), so should whether students in Hong Kong have a sense of inferiority about studying in a nondegree postsecondary institution—including a community college. These notions should be examined further empirically. However, it was quite clear that most respondents felt inferior about seeking a second chance at a community college. Their feelings of inferiority were rather perverse because they led respondents to uphold strongly an evaluation of individuals—including respondents themselves—not on their own terms, but essentially by some socially defined external standards. This kind of evaluation would, in turn, make them feel even more inferior. As such, this inhumaneness could arguably make respondents feel alienated from their selves and from their studies.
Stresses of Standing Out From the Crowd
To repeat, there is no articulation between community colleges and publicly funded universities. Even when some programs (e.g., the three faculties—faculties of engineering, nursing, and social sciences—of the publicly funded university for the second study) are offered by publicly funded universities specifically to associate-degree holders, there is only a limited quota. In other words, community-college students have to compete for a small, albeit increasing, number of places spared for transferals by publicly funded universities. Despite no clear selection criteria for transferal, respondents all believe that a high grade point average (GPA) at a community college might help (cf. Townsend & Wilson, 2006). Sara gave a typical response: There’re no selection criteria announced by universities or departments. But, we’re asked to submit an application letter together with our CV, transcripts, and reference letters. So, I think GPA should be one criterion, although I don’t know the weighting . . . But, a high GPA won’t hurt. (Sara, first study, first interview)
Unlike most disadvantaged students in community college or a university in the West, who are usually mature and overwhelmed by their other obligations (cf. Baxter & Britton, 2001; Britton & Baxter, 1999), respondents could devote most of their time and energy to their studies, although some were working part time (32 respondents of the first study and 26 respondents of the second study). Because of their overwhelming concern about scoring against this competitive context, respondents basically had no college life. David’s experience was rather typical: I didn’t join any college activities . . . Every day I got to community college around 8am. I’d then go to classes. Otherwise, I’d discuss projects with group mates for different courses or spend the rest of the time in the college library . . . I’d get some food nearby. And I got home when the library closed at 10pm . . . The schedule was crazy around the end of the semester. I’d work overnight, night after night, to get done different term essays and group project reports. (David, second study)
To score high, apart from directing all their time and effort to their studies, many respondents were strategic in two aspects: choosing courses taught by lenient lecturers rather than courses of their interest and choosing high-performing classmates for group projects (cf. Brooks, 2007). Calvin’s complaint indirectly explained such strategic responses: All students are strategic in choosing lenient lecturers rather than courses of their interest. After all, what matters is your grade. Who cares whether you find a course interesting or get anything out of it? . . . (E)veryone wants to group with “smart” and “capable” classmates; . . . they don’t want to group with me seeing me as negative liability (lowering their score). (Calvin, first study, first interview)
Briefly, many respondents were so stressed about standing out from the crowd that they felt forced to be strategic in organizing their time/learning or in dealing with classmates (cf. Ng et al., 2015).
Given the competitiveness of seeking a transferal, most respondents felt stressed about standing out from the crowd, focusing on scoring rather than learning and trying to be as strategic/calculating as possible in community college. Many accepted that being competitive and strategic/calculating were required qualities for their survival and to ultimately triumph in the education system. These emotions—stress and calculating—were generated by an emphasis on competition and individualism. They arguably led respondents to become more competitive and alienated from their studies, and to treat themselves and others instrumentally/strategically rather than humanely (and thus alienated from their peers and community). Consequently, a vicious cycle alienating students from their studies is formed: A sense of competitiveness makes respondents feel stressed about their studies and become calculating in studying; and their stress and being calculating, in turn, make them more into the game, and thus become more competitive.
Anxiety of Being Seen as Inadequate
After successful transferals, all respondents realize that competition goes on and comparison with others (or being ranked) continues; the battlefield is just shifted to university. In the West, a democratization of access to university prolongs class competition from basic education to higher education (Bathmaker et al., 2013). Although this may also apply to Hong Kong, most respondents’ urge to remain competitive was somehow related to what they called “sin” feeling (of inferiority) about starting as an associate-degree holder (cf. Townsend, 2008), as Jack articulated: I’ve heard us (associate degree holders) being called second-rate university students getting into university through a back door. This makes me very anxious about being found out . . . I’m under constant pressure to prove myself that I’m good enough to deserve a place here. (Jack, first study, follow-up interview)
Meanwhile, some respondents expressed a sense of superiority in their first-year university studies for they had already acquired such academic skills as essay writing and group presentation. This sense of superiority dissipated once the respondents and their classmates got into senior years of studies. Amid mixed feelings of inferiority and superiority as a result of their urge to prove themselves, most respondents, especially those of disadvantaged backgrounds, considered that they had already “wasted” 2 years in reading an associate degree and felt the need for directing most of their time and effort to their university studies. John’s articulation was rather common: I work very hard because I want to prove that I deserve a place here . . . I already wasted two years in community college. I don’t want to waste time on socializing or joining (one-year) exchange programmes . . . Besides, my family has been waiting for my financial contributions—I just need to get a job after graduation and pay my loans and support my family. (John, second study)
Whether respondents were indeed seen as inadequate at university because they started with an associate degree was an empirical question for further examination. But what matters is respondents’ perception of being inadequate, at university or for the future labor market. This perception already led some respondents to give up on university life or become more calculating in (and alienated from) their studies. Because of this perception, some respondents already have plans of saving up to seek a master’s degree. Again, their intention of seeking a higher degree is not out of a desire for learning but an instrumental concern.
In short, respondents consider that transferal does not immediately make them competitive for the future labor market, and that a bachelor’s or even a master’s degree is only necessary but not sufficient for upward mobility (cf. Tomlinson, 2008; Tymon, 2013). The initial desire of all respondents for a bachelor’s degree or the subsequent desire of some for a master’s degree is out of anxiety similar to that expressed by their Western counterparts about at least not becoming disadvantaged in an ever more competitive labor market (Ball, 2003). But such anxiety should also be understood against the context of Hong Kong, where the variety of industries and thus occupations is rather limited. In many developed capitalist societies, despite that the manufacturing sector is declining, the sector is still there; and there are a number of other sectors offering a great variety of jobs (Scott, 1995). Hong Kong, by contrast, is essentially an economy without the primary and secondary economic sectors with only a limited number of well-paid prestigious professional and managerial jobs. To become upwardly mobile, respondents do not see alternatives, but find it sensible to be engaged, however reluctantly, in an endless credential pursuit. Whether this urge to a credential pursuit is exclusive to transfer students or also applies to university students in general in Hong Kong should be examined further.
In other words, negative emotions—perverse feelings of inferiority and stress about standing out from the crowd—evoked in seeking a second chance in a neoliberal context somehow stay with respondents after transferal. Most respondents do not become confident or feel hopeful about their future. Rather, they still see themselves as inadequate and feel anxious about being marginalized in the labor market (Berube & Nelson, 1995; Giroux, 2014). Such anxiety and feelings of inadequacy, arguably generated by an emphasis of neoliberalism on individualism and competition, in turn normalize or accentuate (rather than confront) respondents’ competitive orientation, let alone challenge a neoliberal policy approach to education or the unequal wage/economic structure, and even put respondents under the impression that the blame for their failure to get upwardly mobile should after all be placed on them for their being not competitive enough. Such negative emotions initially generated by neoliberalism, then, constitute a vicious cycle making respondents feel even more stressed and put more blame on themselves. Whether and how such negative emotions as feelings of inferiority and stress—together with their alienated feelings about themselves and others, and also self-blame—would affect their mental health is not a focus of these studies, but could be explored further.
Conclusion
In view of deindustrialization in many developed capitalist societies, a bachelor’s degree is seen as a must for the youth who do not want to be marginalized in a labor market with a limited number of well-paid prestigious professional and managerial jobs. It is argued that pursuing a bachelor’s degree in a neoliberal context is a rather emotional process, because the pursuit becomes more costly (because of tuition hikes and increasing reliance on loans) and because this pursuit does not necessarily lead to a well-paid job (cf. Archer & Hutchings, 2000; Christie, 2009). This argument suggests an emotive operation of neoliberalism in higher education. Given the emphasis of neoliberalism on competition and individualism, it seems logical to argue further that such emotional impacts on individuals should be more noticeable when a bachelor’s degree is pursued through seeking a more costly and risky, but second-rate, second chance. This article sought to explore further an emotive operation of neoliberalism for seeking a second chance in higher education by examining the emotional struggles of 83 students in pursuing a bachelor’s degree through a newly available second chance—that is, the transfer function of the associate degree—in contemporary Hong Kong.
Respondents’ emotional struggles, as Boler (1999) argues, illustrate that the operation of emotions is mediated by ideologies and values specific to the social and historical context of Hong Kong. Given the dominance of an achievement ideology in Hong Kong, all respondents, failing to get straight into university, were frustrated by the public examinations and took the blame for their failure. As education was widely taken instrumentally for social mobility, respondents took the new option of community college—despite its high cost—as a second chance, albeit second rate, that kept open to them the possibility of obtaining a bachelor’s degree. Meanwhile, they were worried that their pursuit may not be worth their money and effort. Against an emerging educational hierarchy, this second chance brought respondents perverse feelings of inferiority. To win out at community college, all respondents were stressfully competitive and strategic/calculating in organizing their time and learning and dealing with their classmates. Because of the so-called “sin-feeling” or sense of inferiority accompanying this second chance, respondents did not become confident after transferal or feel hopeful about their future; rather, they remained keen to prove themselves, and anxious that they would still be seen as inadequate. This analysis leads me to argue that their emotional struggles are somehow evoked by the emphasis of neoliberalism on competition and individualism and, in turn, accentuate such competitive and individualistic orientation. This thus illustrates neoliberalism’s vicious cycle of emotional impacts and self-generative nature of emotive operation.
In sum, addressing the structural issue of blocked social mobility with a neoliberal individualistic solution by encouraging the youth to invest in higher education in return for a high-paid job ignores the issue of wage inequality or economic restructuring and thus is no different from addressing an economic problem with an educational solution. This solution off-loads the cost and the blame of social mobility to the youth. What the youth have to bear are not simply an increasing cost of their educational pursuit as an investment (e.g., time and finances) and anticipated decreasing returns to the pursuit but also the emotional cost in terms of feelings of frustration about individualized structural failure, feelings of inferiority and/or inadequacy about themselves, and feelings of stress and anxiety about an ever more uncertain future. What I seek to illustrate in this article is an emotive operation of neoliberalism for seeking a second chance in higher education. The emphasis of neoliberalism on individualism and competition inflicts in the youth the blame for their failure and then damages their confidence, making them feel inadequate about themselves, predisposing them to perverse feelings of inferiority in judging themselves and others and to be competitive and strategic/calculating in dealing with others (Barnett, 2000; Giroux, 2014; Scott, 1995). This directs them away from challenging the structural setup, normalizes their competitive orientation, and even urges them to blame themselves further for not being competitive enough.
Governments in capitalist societies may find neoliberalism effective in solving structural problems by off-loading the cost and the blame of blocked social mobility to individuals through education. These neoliberal governments should consider whether they are digging their own graves in the longer run. The fact that blocked social mobility remains an issue of an individual’s pursuit of credentials and solved by a policy of educational expansion would lead to an increasing number of individuals who have a higher qualification and are ambitious about their future being blocked socially. Thus, they feel frustrated and negative about themselves and gloomy about their future. Not to become disadvantaged further, these individuals are predisposed to be even more competitive and strategic/calculating in treating one another. It remains to be seen empirically whether such individuals’ predispositions are the qualities that capitalists seek in their employees, and whether those predispositions would enhance economic productivity and smooth out the operation of capitalism. Arguably, frustration, negative self-image and perspectives, and uncaring predispositions could be damaging to individuals’ mental health and simply not conducive to the making of a stable society, but might pose challenges to the stability or even the governance of any neoliberal government. If a neoliberal government is not convinced by criticisms ethically grounded on social fairness, perhaps some practical concerns about economic productivity, social stability, and political governance could make a stronger case for the government to reconsider the effectiveness of a neoliberal approach underlying a policy of educational expansion to address the issue of blocked social mobility for the youth. I do not seek to make generalized claims on higher education based on findings from two small-scale studies of self-selected transfer students. The abovementioned individuals’ predispositions in higher education and their implications for the economic, social, and political development of any neoliberal society should be examined further, empirically and theoretically. This opens up new lines of inquiry for further examinations and debates in the field of higher education and education policy.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
