Two Worlds of Aging: A Journey Through China's Rural-Urban Pension Divide

Last week, my family and I travelled from the bustling streets of Hong Kong to my hometown village in Haimen, China. 

My first realization was that I had to change my sleep schedule. Summer in Haimen reached a scorching 40℃ at noon, compelling villagers and farmers to wake up before 5am to complete their work and run errands as early as possible. Unaccustomed to such early mornings, I compromised with a 6am alarm, found two old bikes, and, of course, convinced my sister to go with me for a trip to the nearest market. We got ready as quickly as possible, keeping in mind our grandmother’s advice: “The later you go, more of the best food gets sold out and the hotter it becomes.”

The local food market bustled with activity—countless stalls offering fresh produce, meats, vegetables and fruits. My sister eagerly bought the crabs she had been craving, while I bought my favorite grapes. Unsurprisingly, the market was already packed with people. The more we explored, however, I noticed glances in our direction. It suddenly struck me that my sister and I were anomalies—likely the youngest ones there. In fact, nearly everyone else appeared to be over 40, with grandmothers forming the majority.

The following day, we rose even earlier—5:00am—determined to observe farmers working in a nearby field. Aware of the blazing sunlight and mosquitos, we donned sun-protective jackets and hats. Across the field, I spotted what appeared to be a group of elderly women—all at least in their 70s—tending to crops. We approached cautiously across the grass and soil, hoping for a closer look. One woman looked like she was in her 80s. As I neared her to ask about their work schedule, she suddenly glared at me, declaring her strong dislike for visitors and threatening to chase us away. Amid panic, I noticed this grandmother, unlike the others, wasn’t wearing a hat. “I left it at home,” she admitted regretfully.

Before I knew it, I instinctively took off my hat and offered it to her. Her expression transformed instantly, with a broad smile replacing a scowl as she thanked me warmly. She eagerly shared with me details of her life as a farmer. “I just turned 81 this year,” she revealed proudly.

Later, I spoke with her employer, who told me about the numerous challenges facing Haimen’s farming industry: declining prices for agricultural products over the past two years resulting in annual deficits of hundreds of thousands of yuan, and a critical labor shortage as young people avoid farm work due to its physical demands and low compensation.

The farmers earn merely 13 yuan per hour (less than $2) from employers in Anhui—slightly higher than standard agricultural wages (such as the 10 yuan hourly rate for winter strawberry picking), taking into account the hot summer heat and work intensity. When I asked about their government pensions, they reported receiving about 320 yuan per month.

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This stark reality contrasted sharply with my grandparents on my mom’s side in Nantong, a neighboring city to Haimen. They receive government pensions of up to 10,000 yuan monthly—more than they could spend. During mornings and evenings, I regularly observed elderly residents in local parks, dancing together and enjoying their leisure. Otherwise, my grandpa would typically relax in an air-conditioned room, happily scrolling through Douyin on his tablet. 

China’s surging elderly population signifies the critical importance of government pensions. The nation faces an imminent structural crisis beyond its population decline and low birth rates. Projections indicate the number of retirees is projected to reach 496mn in 2040, accounting for 36% of the total population. The elderly dependency ratio—measures the proportion of retirees to working-age individuals— has climbed from 25% in 2010 to 40% in 2023 and is expected to reach 60% by 2035. In 2023, 2.5 working-age individuals supported each retired senior, but this ratio is likely to drop to 1.6 within the next decade. While supporting and caring for parents is a traditional virtue in Chinese society, the aging population is unlikely to rely solely on traditional family support due to lower fertility rates and a significant number of single-child families. The rapidly aging population accentuates the importance of social protection for the elderly, particularly in terms of pensions.

China’s highly unequal pension system may exacerbate income inequality as the population ages rapidly. Those officially employed by the government, including civil servants and public school teachers, tend to keep most of their wages once they retire. My grandpa from Nantong, a former military member, belongs to this privileged 7% of elderly citizens. Corporate employees, comprising 38.3% of total retirees, lose approximately half their income after retirement. However, rural elderly (including former migrant workers), who constitute 54.7% of retirees, experience a dramatic income collapse when age excludes them from non-farm employment. Their pension benefits amount to merely 6.5% of corporate pensioners’ benefits and a mere 3.4% of government pensioners’ allowances.

To address these pension disparities, China could implement several solutions. The government could gradually unify the fragmented pension system, ensuring more equitable distribution across rural and urban populations. Additionally, increasing financial support for rural pension schemes would help narrow the gap between farmers earning 320 yuan monthly and government retirees receiving 10,000 yuan. Moreover, creating incentives for younger workers to remain in or return to agricultural regions could address the labor shortage while supporting local economies. Implementing tax reforms that redirect resources from wealthy urban centers to underdeveloped rural regions could help balance the system. Without comprehensive reform, China risks exacerbating the urban-rural divide as its population continues to age, potentially leading to social instability and increased poverty among rural elderly.