The real education starts after the livelihood education ends

As the Chinese Writing Contest 2026 gets into full swing, it is worth revisiting Friedrich Nietzsche’s seminal work on education. What he observed over a century ago remains relevant today, and I highly recommend reading his speeches in full.

In 1872, the German philosopher was invited to give a series of public lectures on educational reform. During these speeches, Nietzsche posited that there were two inherently antagonistic types of educational institutions: those dedicated to true education, and those designed purely for livelihood. He observed with dismay that virtually all existing institutions belonged to the latter.

150 years later, his diagnosis still rings true. Today's schools and learning organisations span a broad spectrum, yet they almost universally measure their merit—and market their appeal—by the same metrics: how many graduates gain admission to elite universities, and how much money those graduates earn on average.

From a young age, students are conditioned to believe that studying hard is the only path to a good university, a high-paying job, and a secure life. Conversely, failing to do so means financial insecurity. This pervasive narrative reinforces the very system Nietzsche lamented: a paradigm where schooling exists solely to train workers and equip them with utilitarian skills.

In criticising this “livelihood” model, Nietzsche envisioned a system where true education could foster genuine creative minds—geniuses whose enduring works would enrich our collective intellect and soul.

Today, Nietzsche’s vision seems more elusive than ever. The roots of utilitarian education run deep, and the battle for spots in elite schools—seen as the ultimate gateway to socio-economic security—is fiercer than ever. The 2023 US Supreme Court ruling striking down Affirmative Action in college admissions showcased this hyper-competitiveness, exposing how desperately families fight for every perceived advantage in higher education.

Reducing education to mere career preparation is disappointing, but in the era of artificial intelligence, it is becoming downright risky. As AI begins replacing jobs across various sectors, the age-old formula, Education = Employment, is coming undone under severe pressure.

Yet, we cannot simply lay blame on individuals or schools. This is a self-reinforcing societal loop: most people must work to survive, and most jobs demand formal credentials.

Fortunately, there is still room for freedom, self-determination, and intellectual pursuit untethered from financial survival. Perhaps real education, the kind Nietzsche championed, only truly begins when the demands of “livelihood” schooling are set aside.

This is precisely where the Chinese Writing Contest finds its purpose. While modest in scale and designed specifically for Chinese language learners, it offers a sanctuary for genuine learning, creative expression, and intellectual growth. It invites participants to step outside the utilitarian treadmill and create something meaningful for its own sake.

To all Chinese language learners: take this opportunity to write, explore, and experience the transformative power of true education. Give it a try!