Helen Li, a University of Toronto graduate, drew inspiration from a growing trend in China where people lease their leisure time, skills and experiences to make a living.Supplied
Helen Li is uninterested in the traditional route to success. Like many Gen Zers, she wants something less rigid than a steady climb up the career ladder.
So she created a job for herself: She rents out her time, offering companionship for those in need, whether it’s joining them for meals, exercising, shopping, travelling or attending medical appointments.
The 21-year-old, a recent University of Toronto graduate who studied statistics and psychology, drew inspiration from a growing trend in China where people lease their leisure time, skills and experiences to make a living.
Chinese state media have dubbed such work the “companionship economy,” partly fuelled by the country’s rising number of single people. The world’s second most populous country is home to roughly 240 million unmarried people. In 2022, China had about 500 million registered households, and more than 83 million of these consisted of just one individual.
The media have said such businesses could provide flexible job opportunities. China has been grappling with a slowing economy and high youth unemployment, which reached a record high in June, with one in five youth jobless.
According to a 2021 survey by China Youth Daily, a state-run newspaper, nearly 60 per cent of the 1,535 respondents had utilized a companionship service. More than one-third sought a gaming partner, while another third paid for a running or workout buddy. The majority of the survey’s participants belong to China’s one-child generation, known as “the loneliest generation.”
In Japan, similar services have also been documented.
The popularity of the service in China motivated Ms. Li to test it out in Toronto. In early August, she made her first post seeking clients on Xiaohongshu, China’s answer to Instagram, with users in Canada. Within a few days, she met with her first client – an injured woman who sought assistance to unpack and organize after her recent move.
Ms. Li later learned that her client was feeling down due to a recent spine injury and a breakup. Spending two days with her, Ms. Li helped spruce up her new place, but she also accompanied her client to her favourite restaurants, where she otherwise dined alone, and to the parks she normally visited for solo walks.
“Her biggest need, at that time, was actually being listened to by someone,” Ms. Li said.
Ms. Li has seen more than 60 clients so far, and she considers her first to be the most remarkable experience.
“I was able to participate in her life. … She shared nearly everything that had happened to her over the past few years,” Ms. Li said. “The feeling of being trusted, knowing that someone is willing to open up to you and reveal their vulnerabilities.”
It is also this client, Ms. Li recalled, who affirmed for her the value of her services. “And that kept me going.”
In August alone, Ms. Li had about 20 clients. Over the past five months, she has accompanied people to their surgery appointments, joined socially anxious clients at events and hiked with one person for 12 kilometres. In other instances, she simply shared meals or conversed with them.
She charges $20 to $30 an hour, depending on the type of request.
Ms. Li noted that, often, the smaller the request, the greater the emotional support the client requires.
“They have not talked to anyone for a while, and they want to restart socializing through me,” she said, adding several of her clients had been in complete social isolation.
One time, she added, she was asked to sort mail for a client who hadn’t socialized with anyone for a year.
Ms. Li described many of her clients as sensitive, anxious or prone to overthinking. Another group is those who pursue a highly efficient, practical form of socialization.
“If it’s with friends, they need to consider their friends’ feelings and cannot demand too much,” Ms. Li said.
They also believe “they don’t need to invest too much time and energy into getting to know someone or forming a new relationship in order to receive emotional support. … They can just pay and solve the issue.”
Most of Ms. Li’s clients are women aged 25 to 35, many of whom live alone. Due to safety concerns, Ms. Li does not accept male clients. The only two occasions on which she provided services to men were when she acted as their translator for U.S. visa appointments.
Qian Yue, an associate professor of sociology at the University of British Columbia, said the rise of such services in China can also be attributed to factors such as growing geographic mobility, meaning that many people are far from their family or childhood friends.
On Xiaohongshu, more than a dozen individuals were advertising similar services in Canadian cities including Toronto, Vancouver and Calgary. Similarly, Accompanya.com advertises such services, targeting international students in Canada, with its Instagram page boasting that it can “bring you warm companionship and priceless friendship.”
Zed Gao, an assistant professor at the American University of Paris who has studied Chinese immigrants’ identity, belonging and mental health, said he thinks there is room for the companionship economy to develop in Chinese communities in Canada.
Dr. Gao said Chinese immigrants might be likely to seek these services because of hardships involved in their process of adjusting to a new culture, including a lack of social network. The stigma attached to mental health disorders in Chinese culture might prevent Chinese immigrants from seeking help from families, friends and even professional therapists, he added.
“I see the companionship economy filling this gap,” he wrote in an e-mail.
Ms. Li said that not everyone recognizes the value of her work, and some have likened it to an escort service.
But in her opinion, “this job, similar to counselling, belongs to the healing industry.”