The author, a sociologist, on the real reasons for the rise of China’s ultracompetitive “chicken-blood” parents.
Parenting in China sometimes resembles an arms race: Middle-class families competing against each other to invest immense quantities of time, energy, and resources into their children’s education — all in the hopes of securing their future success. Private tutoring, international schools, and extracurricular trips abroad are all seen as valid ways to give kids a leg up in the fight for a university spot.
The practice even has a name: jiwa, or “chicken blood parenting,” a reference to a mid-20th century Chinese practice of boosting a patient’s energy levels through infusions of chicken blood. At times, it can feel inescapable, even as it remains deeply unpopular with parents, kids, and even policymakers. Still, it’s worth taking a step back and asking: Does intense parental involvement in their kids’ studies truly benefit children? And what, if any, are the unintended consequences of this micromanaging approach to child-rearing?
The trend toward intense parental involvement in their kids’ education is not unique to China. Rather, it reflects a global shift toward high-stakes parenting, particularly in countries where education is viewed as a key to social mobility. For instance, in the United States, phenomena such as “helicopter parenting” and “tiger parenting” have become common among middle- and upper-middle-class families. South Korea and Japan exhibit similar trends, such as the rise of after-school academies, known as hagwons in Korea and juku in Japan.
A booklet introducing chicken blood therapies. From @燕玲书店on Kongfz.com
Even parents in Scandinavian countries are not entirely immune to educational competition. Despite media portrayals suggesting Scandinavian parents are more laid back than their counterparts elsewhere, studies show that even in these relatively egalitarian societies, parents find ways to provide their children with academic advantages, and intensive parenting can lead to parental burnout.
But jiwa does have deep roots in traditional cultural values in China, where families play a central role in shaping children’s lives. It’s a mindset intertwined with the country’s highly competitive exam-based education system, where access to top universities is seen as a pathway to upward social mobility and success. With the rise of middle-class families — and middle-class precarity — many well-off parents now feel pressure to ensure their children not only perform well but excel, often spending a significant portion of family resources on their education.
This investment has shaped the landscape of China’s education market. According to a 2016 national survey on extracurricular tutoring, more than 31% of parents stated they would spare no expense to support their children’s education. Prior to recent policy interventions aimed at curbing excessive tutoring, the industry was projected to be worth a staggering 1.4 trillion yuan ($193.3 billion) by 2025. Thus, jiwa is best understood not only as a social phenomenon but also as a major economic force, as families sacrifice their finances, time, and even well-being in pursuit of educational success for their children.
While parental involvement has long been associated with positive child outcomes, more recent research complicates this narrative. Findings suggest that the causal relationship between parental involvement and academic performance is not always straightforward. For example, studies indicate that children’s academic achievements can influence how engaged their parents are, suggesting a bidirectional relationship rather than a one-way causal link.
A woman takes her child home at night, Changsha, Hunan province, March 2024. VCG
Excessive parental involvement can lead to mixed consequences in the Chinese context. My own research, for example, suggests that tutoring benefits students with average academic inclinations, especially those from middle-class families. However, for students from lower-class or higher-class families, the benefits of tutoring are limited. Family socioeconomic status is correlated with students’ performance, and students with high academic ability need less supplemental tutoring, while students from lower-income families face structural challenges that tutoring alone cannot address.
A study I conducted with Pan Zhidi of Zhejiang University identified a “U-shaped” relationship between parental involvement and Chinese children’s cognitive abilities. Moderate involvement appears to have positive effects, but over-involvement can yield negative consequences, especially for children with lower cognitive abilities. In rural areas, this over-involvement trend emerges sooner, with parents often unable to sustain the financial and emotional investment needed to match their urban counterparts.
This research aligns with findings from the United States, which indicate that excessive parental involvement can adversely affect children’s mental health. High levels of parental intervention correlate with increased anxiety and decreased autonomy in children, which are risks that transcend socioeconomic boundaries.
Already, there are signs that Chinese parents are recognizing the drawbacks of intense parenting as they witness their children become anxious or lose enthusiasm for learning due to the relentless pressure to succeed. This awareness is particularly evident among high-income, highly educated families. Yet, despite these concerns, many parents continue to push their children, caught between institutional pressures and a competitive social environment. In a high-stakes education system, opting out of this rigorous approach can feel like risking a child’s future, leaving parents hesitant to ease up when they see others pushing forward.
In other words, jiwa is a pragmatic, if not desperate, strategy adopted by parents, rather than an innate preference of Chinese parents. When high-quality education opportunities are scarce, parents see intensive academic investment as a way to secure an edge for their children in a competitive environment. Of course, this approach doesn’t address the root problem of unequal access to education; rather, it risks deepening the divide between families with the means to invest heavily and those without. Given these pressures, chicken blood parenting risks exacerbating both parental anxiety and structural inequities within the educational system.
Easing parental anxiety will require a more accessible and equitable distribution of educational resources, as well as broader societal acceptance of diverse talents and paths to success. By working toward a more equitable educational system and fostering environments that promote balanced engagement, educators can help parents support their children’s growth without tipping into excessive involvement. Meanwhile, policymakers should emphasize sustainable development for children, focusing on rewarding lifelong learning rather than academic achievements.
Parental involvement is a powerful yet complex force in determining children’s educational trajectories. While it plays an essential role in fostering growth, over-involvement can risk undermining educational equity and children’s overall development. A balanced approach, attentive to the specific needs of families and communities, is essential for ensuring that educational resources are distributed fairly and that all children have the opportunity to succeed.
Li Angran is an assistant professor of sociology at NYU Shanghai.
Editor: Cai Yineng.
(Header image: Visuals from VCG, reedited by Sixth Tone)
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