its economic links by improving cross-border infrastructure, Mr Kim appears to have been slow-rolling those efforts. Direct flights and train journeys between Beijing and Pyongyang, which were suspended during the pandemic, resumed in March. But North Korea has yet to let Chinese tourists return. Mr Xi also seems to think he can handle the regional fallout from North Korea’s de facto nuclear status. Chinese experts say that, by tacitly acknowledging it, China is unlikely to upset relations with South Korea. The left-wing government in Seoul supports engaging with Mr Kim (who exhibits no interest in reciprocating), and taking a staged approach to denuclearisation. Some Chinese scholars suggest China could tolerate a nuclear-armed South Korea. That is because China hopes that, if South Korea develops the weapons, they would not be directed at Chinese targets and that South Korea’s alliance with America might weaken. China would be far less tolerant of Japan acquiring atomic arms, but thinks it is less likely because of domestic opposition there. The big question now is what Mr Trump could offer to bring Mr Kim back to the negotiating table. Since returning to office, America’s president has referred casually to North Korea as a “nuclear power” and said he is willing to meet Mr Kim. His administration’s first National Security Strategy did not mention North Korea and, though its National Defence Strategy did, it made no mention of denuclearisation. But Mr Kim insisted in a speech in September that for talks to resume America must explicitly drop its demand for North Korea to denuclearise. In his first term, Mr Trump hinted that North Korea’s failure to commit to that goal could prompt American military strikes. Today America is bogged down in the Middle East; North Korea has more than enough nuclear firepower to deter an attack; and with Russia and China back on his side, Mr Kim’s bargaining position has never looked stronger. ■ Subscribers can sign up to Drum Tower, our new weekly newsletter, to understand what the world makes of China—and what China makes of the world. This article was downloaded by zlibrary from https://www.economist.com//china/2026/06/07/nukes-were-off-the-agenda-as-xi- jinping-visited-north-korea
China’s notorious university-entrance exam is changing Demography and AI are set to transform the gaokao June 11th 2026 ON JUNE 7TH millions of young Chinese stepped into exam halls to take the gaokao, China’s gruelling national university-entrance exam. The results will decide where they can study and thus the calibre of job opportunities that follow. For many, it will have been a once-in-a-lifetime shot to move up in Chinese society. Two things were different about this year’s iteration of the exam. One is that whereas in the past few decades, the number of test-takers was largely rising, now it appears to be in decline. The other is the increasingly pervasive use of artificial intelligence. The two trends will change how the young are educated in China over the coming years.
Official data show there were 12.9m registrations to take the gaokao this year, down from 13.4m in 2024 and the second consecutive year of decline (see chart). Though China has reached peak gaokao, however, it has not yet reached peak 18-year-olds (the average age of students taking the exam). One reason for the lower participation may be that reforms have made it harder for university hopefuls to do resits. Another could be high youth unemployment of around 17%. The sea of graduates struggling to find jobs may be putting some youngsters off the idea of university altogether. Down the line, the decline will gather pace. This year’s cohort of gaokao- takers were mostly born in 2008, a year of 16.1m births. By 2025 births had more than halved, to just 7.9m. The demographic cliff is already visible in nurseries, which saw pupil numbers plummet from 46m to 32m between 2022 and 2025. Numbers in primary schools have also started to thin. Inevitably, over time, secondary schools and then colleges will follow. The impact of AI is being felt much faster. A survey of 322,000 students last year by the China National Academy of Educational Sciences, a state- affiliated think-tank, found that 85.6% of them had already tried using AI to complete their homework. On popular apps such as Zuoyebang (“Homework Help”) and Yuanfudao (“Ape Tutoring”), pupils snap photos of questions and AI walks them through the solutions. (Teachers are using similar
technologies to help mark homework.) In the run-up to the gaokao, Chinese AI firms barred their chatbots from solving exam questions in a bid to prevent any would-be cheaters from using them. When the results come out later this month, many will also use AI to advise which university and subject to select to maximise their chances of admission. The government has big plans for AI in classrooms. In some rich places, change is already under way. Since the autumn term last year, all 1,400 primary and secondary schools in Beijing have rolled out lessons on “AI general education”. In Hangzhou, the centre of China’s AI boom, students vibe-code applications, play with robots provided by Unitree, a robotics startup, and use AI to generate paintings in the style of Van Gogh. Many in China are worried about the possibility of AI making the education system outdated. Studying still consists of much rote memorisation and grinding through thousands of practice questions, tactics designed with the gaokao in mind. Some parents think it all looks rather concerning when knowledge is available from a chatbot prompt. But others also worry that AI will make education less effective. Ms Luo, a mum in Shanghai, let her son try the technology, but before long found that he was just copying the solution generated by AI, rather than trying to understand it. His grades have fallen. Ms Yang, fresh from finishing her gaokao, says AI was helpful for revision but worries it could weaken her writing skills. The double whammy of demography and AI will squeeze teachers and tutors alike. Demand for them will fall as pupil numbers shrink. At the same time, advocates of AI say their systems will provide infinite knowledge and endless patience on demand—at a fraction of the cost of real tutors. Those who teach English are especially worried. AI can already speak the language more fluently, and without an accent, than many of them. As a result, some exasperated parents ask why they are paying humans for help with the language. There may yet be advantages for teachers. As many as 60 pupils have to squeeze into a single classroom in China; AI might be able to provide tailored instruction in ways that teachers never could manage. But there will always be a need for human interaction, believes Mr Shi, a former maths teacher at New Oriental, a large tutoring company. Successful teachers are
those who can connect emotionally with their pupils and so motivate them. ■ Subscribers can sign up to Drum Tower, our new weekly newsletter, to understand what the world makes of China—and what China makes of the world. This article was downloaded by zlibrary from https://www.economist.com//china/2026/06/11/chinas-notorious-university-entrance- exam-is-changing
In China ride-hailing work is a last resort for rural labourers But now Shenzhen says it has too many of them June 11th 2026 FEW CITIES in the world have been kinder to migrant workers than Shenzhen. The southern Chinese megacity of 18m was built by many such in the 1980s, when a sleepy town was picked by leaders in Beijing as a test- zone for economic reform. Since then people from the interior have poured in to work in factories, wash dishes and drive taxis. But Shenzhen is reaching its limits. Its city government declared for the first time on May 30th that its ride-hailing industry was officially saturated. At the end of April there were more than 140,000 cars licensed to provide Uber-like services and almost 400,000 drivers. They manage to get an average of only 13.1 fares a day (local drivers say a decent day involves 30
fares). With a minimum fare of just ten yuan ($1.48) per ride, this falls far below subsistence levels for these workers, who almost invariably come from other areas of the country. Ask any cabbie in the city and they will explain the problem in vivid detail. The economy is in rough shape, says one, whose surname is Jun. Squeezed locals are therefore becoming more reluctant to take long cab rides, pushing down overall demand for the service. But the real killer is the over-supply of drivers. Ride-hailing is a top fallback for people who lose their jobs. Just about anyone with a driver’s licence and the wherewithal to rent or borrow a car can have a go at it. Across the country around 7.5m people, mainly young men, have done so. Shenzhen’s decades-long embrace of migrants makes it a top destination for them. Driving is particularly attractive to poor rural workers in big cities because their cars can double as flats; drivers living in their cars have become an increasingly common phenomenon. The prospect of higher, more frequent fares funnels migrants to prosperous coastal areas. This is why, Mr Jun says, the local market has been flooded with drivers. Shenzhen is not the only city facing a cabbie glut. Shanghai has restricted permits for ride-hailing in the past. Guangzhou, another megacity near Shenzhen, has issued similar warnings. Beijing is trying to reduce its population and makes it hard for outsiders to up sticks and move there. Migrants’ quests for employment in such an entrepot may be a worrying sign of things to come. One of the main engines of China’s future economic growth will be its service industry. Migrants should fuel the supply of service workers in its biggest, richest cities, whether they wait tables or drive cars. Leaders in Beijing have grown wise to this, points out Guo Shan of Hutong Research, an advisory firm. Once they hoped that hundreds of smaller cities would attract newcomers instead of adding to the urban sprawl of the megacities. But they struggled to do so, and a central-government plan released last year aims to boost the population in the biggest cities instead, Ms Guo says. The plan will work only if the biggest cities can absorb migrants. But many are giving up on their dreams of a better life elsewhere. In 2025 it seems that