News Desk
BEIJING — In a rapidly modernizing China, love and marriage have become less about romance and more about financial transactions. The country’s booming economy, coupled with deep-rooted social expectations, has transformed relationships into high-stakes negotiations, where matchmaking services, financial assessments, and even loans play a critical role in determining who gets married.
The pressure to wed is immense. China is home to roughly 200 million singles, with a severe gender imbalance—for every 114 men, there are only 100 women. In total, the country has 30 million more men than women, a consequence of decades of strict birth control policies. Those who fail to marry often face social stigma, particularly women over 27, who are labeled “leftover women” by state-run media.
The roots of China’s current marriage crisis trace back to the Communist Party’s population policies. Under Mao Zedong, citizens were encouraged to have large families, leading to a population boom. But by the late 1970s, concerns over overpopulation led Deng Xiaoping to implement the one-child policy, a radical measure that lasted 35 years.
The policy led to widespread forced sterilizations and gender-selective abortions, as families preferred sons to daughters. Today, China is left with a population that is too male, too old, and shrinking, raising concerns about the future of its labor market and economic growth. As birth rates decline, the government has actively promoted marriage and childbirth, with local governments even offering incentives for couples to have more children.
With millions struggling to find partners, matchmaking services have flourished. Baihe, China’s largest dating platform, has over 300 million members and employs thousands of matchmakers. These professionals don’t just arrange dates—they conduct background checks, assess financial stability, and even offer loans to men who cannot afford a home, a key factor in securing a marriage.
For the wealthy, elite matchmaking agencies like Diamond Love, headquartered in Shanghai, offer personalized spouse-hunting services. Clients pay up to $15,000 a month for a team of consultants and matchmakers who promise to find them the perfect partner.
In rural China, the gender imbalance has led to a surge in bride prices, with families demanding as much as hundreds of thousands of dollars before agreeing to a marriage. Some young men, unable to meet these financial expectations, find themselves unable to marry at all.
Meanwhile, women face their own pressures. The All-China Women’s Federation has advised women to “start fighting for marriage” at 25 and warned that by 35, even successful women with cars, apartments, and businesses are still considered “left over.”
For many, marriage in China is less about love and more about securing financial stability. Women seek men with a stable job, a home, and no siblings, while men expect women to work, manage a household, care for parents, and demand little financially. Some unmarried women in their 30s, reflecting on their struggles, advise younger women to marry early, fearing that waiting too long will leave them with few options.
On social media, a growing number of people are questioning the transactional nature of relationships. “In China, love is just negotiations, bargaining, and business deals,” one user wrote. Others compare it to the West, where relationships seem to be based on shared interests rather than financial expectations.
But with China’s economy slowing, layoffs increasing, and wages stagnating, the pressure on young people is only growing. For many, marriage is no longer a personal decision—it’s a societal expectation intertwined with deep economic and demographic challenges.
