From Boom to Baseline
The old bargain of education-for-upward-mobility is fraying. This essay argues that today’s disappointments are less about talent or effort and more about a shifted economic cycle: decades of capital expansion created temporary premiums for labor that are now being withdrawn. As opportunities compress and status signals revert to historical baselines, the sensible response for most is practical: protect health, preserve cash flow, and savor modest, reliable comforts rather than chase grand upward leaps.
I once work in a top hospital. At one recent orientation meeting, fresh faces appeared – Ivy League graduates from abroad joining our ranks. In that moment I realized something stark: the window of opportunity that education used to guarantee for ordinary people is narrowing rapidly. 5yr ago, this would have been unthinkable. Back then, if someone returned from overseas, everyone would have been excited to welcome them; it was cause for celebration. Now, by contrast, I meet many young PhD candidates (from my postdoc days) seething with anxiety and anger. They tell me we were just lucky to be born a few years earlier and grabbed the prime spots. They feel as if their hard work was for nothing and that the times have deceived them. I understand this feeling – I feel it too – but I also know it's not because today's youth aren't hardworking or excellent, or because they haven't read or published enough. It's simply because the tide of this era has receded.
This boom period is over. The inflationary boom of the past has ended, and now we're in a time of stagnation where everything is losing value, including labor. In this new era, the old formula – “work hard, get educated, climb the social ladder” – no longer holds the truth. Education and earning degrees no longer guarantee a better life. Even after a MD&PhD, a graduate might still end up delivering takeout orders. Even after a stint at a famous tech firm, one might find themselves driving for a ride-share service after being laid off. It's a harsh reality: effort alone doesn't ensure the upward mobility it once did.
Underneath all of this is a simple economic mechanism: the cycles of resource allocation. In the past 30 years of rapid growth, each of us could imagine ourselves as around the center of a circle drawing in resources, near or not too far away from it. Life improved dramatically compared to 60 years ago; nobody was dying of hunger anymore. Back then, this illusion make us felt like there was endless money:
Generous kickbacks on medicine and ample rebates on surgical materials, with healthcare funding so high that nobody was checking.
Fresh PhDs could stay at universities on payroll without bribing or networking; jobs were plentiful.
Starting an online shop could easily yield millions in sales (often without paying much tax).
People could get huge sums in land compensation, buy apartments, and then watch those properties get demolished for more compensation. Instant wealth was not unheard of.
With bank accounts swelling and these opportunities all around, we fooled ourselves into thinking we had leapt to the top of society's ladder. It felt like we had crossed into the very summit of success.
Looking back now, I realize those were just pigs being blown up by the tailwind of the market - temporary bubbles, not the normal state of things. We must be clear-eyed: none of that was guaranteed or permanent. Those stories were historical outliers, chance events driven by a particular wave of growth.
We, as laborers and professionals, happened to be in demand during the economic expansion phase. In economic terms, capital needed us (and we are the materials the need one time) to grow its empire, so we enjoyed a seller's market and got a premium. That's why many of us could join in that growth and share in its rewards. But capital is cyclical. We should never assume that premium was our forever price. Every product, including our own labor, is subject to market laws. The power to set prices doesn't lie with the product (or the worker) but in the invisible hands of macroeconomic forces and controls.
Now, the tide has turned. The market has peaked, and the once “blue ocean” of opportunities has turned into a bloody red sea of fierce competition. As the wave recedes, capital's first priority is cutting costs and boosting efficiency. So those “consumables” — raw materials or even brainpower — get tightened up quickly. Medical supplies are always just supplies, after all, and intellectual labor is still labor, still without its own means of production. In other words, we remain basically proletarians with little bargaining power (farmers might own land, but even they get no real say in prices). The only time we had a true income leap was in those boom years — our hourly wages went up. But once we can't sell our time anymore, or if those buyers disappear, our true position is exposed.
Meanwhile, on the global stage, shifts are happening too. The US has turned inward, pulling foreign capital back as it reevaluated these cycles. It's the same logic as when Japanese and American money once flooded into China's market: once China's ground was “harvested” and produced its fruits, foreign investors quietly moved on to the next fertile land – places like Vietnam. Now we see major companies laying off staff and withdrawing from “platforms” (big tech ecosystems). Those who lose those cushy jobs still have to pay the price – sky-high mortgages, international school fees for their kids, hefty insurance premiums and medical bills. Suddenly, many people are thrust back into the 'baseline' existence they really belong to, historically speaking.
Even the tales of privilege and connection are changing. I heard about a recent case where a famous academician's student somehow landed a government job by first taking a seemingly menial position at a hospital. This “gold plating” of a resume is telling: even well-connected people can't just slide into government jobs directly. They have to work through the system, taking hospital posts before moving into civil service. It's a sign that prized positions and resources are tightening up and being redistributed more sparingly.
For us ordinary “consumables,” the lesson is this: don't let grand notions of national duty hijack your life. Instead, focus on living well in small, concrete ways. Enjoy the small certainties in your daily life – what the Japanese call “small, certain happiness.” Keep yourself healthy and maintain a positive mood. Secure your finances and protect your cash flow. In other words, tend to your own “small cycle” of well-being.
Don't be fooled by big promises of easy success; stay grounded in reality.
Cherish the modest joys of today, the comforts you can actually grasp.
Take care of your body and mind; they're your real capital.
Manage your money wisely and keep a buffer for tough times.
These might seem like small things, but they're my way of navigating the receding tide. By staying clear-eyed and focusing on what I can control – my health, my mindset, my savings – I find some peace amidst all this change. The era of easy leaps through education may be over, but we can still live with dignity and a measure of happiness if we adjust our sails to the new winds.