Discrimination at work

Paulo Coutinho

Apparently, Macau is not living up to its centuries-old vocation as a port of shelter and trade. The city that once thrived on openness, diversity, and exchange seems to be turning inward – at least in its workplaces.

In recent weeks, several non-Chinese professionals have spoken to the Macau Daily Times about discrimination at work or when applying for jobs – all local residents holding Macau ID cards who requested anonymity. Their accounts describe an unsettling pattern: employers preferring candidates of specific nationalities or language groups, even when locals are fully qualified.

Our report, “Non-Chinese professionals face workplace barriers, say residents,” published earlier this month, confirmed that things are not going well in terms of equal opportunities for locals. It followed a Letter to the Editor dated September 27, which denounced “practices undermining fair access to employment opportunities for residents.”

Both pieces drew exceptional attention – a surge in website traffic and engagement across our social media platforms, especially on Facebook. Readers reacted with concern, empathy, and, in some cases, indignation. A recurring question appeared in several comments, summarized this way: Is this a Macau-only problem in the greater China region, or part of a broader trend?

In a New York Times op-ed, published on Wednesday, journalist Vivian Wang wrote about a similar dynamic across the border, where China’s push to attract global talent through new visa policies has met with strong resistance at home. As she observed, “As news of the visa spread across Chinese social media, the dominant reaction was not celebration but horror. High-profile commentators worried that China would become a country of immigrants – not, in their eyes, a good thing.”

Wang noted that “xenophobic” comments spread furiously, with some citizens fearing newcomers would “worsen already record-high youth unemployment.” China, she argued, “has virtually no history of inbound immigration,” and foreigners often face bureaucratic hurdles, curiosity, and social suspicion.

Even Chinese-born scientists returning from abroad, she wrote, find it hard to readjust “to the political and cultural climate.” That, she concluded, reveals a deeper challenge: a society eager to compete globally yet resistant to cultural openness.

Sound familiar? Substitute “Macau” for “China,” and the comparison feels uncomfortably close. Here, too, the issue may not be mere policy but mindset. In a city that prides itself on being international, cosmopolitan, and bilingual, the idea of equal opportunity should be a given. Yet reality tells another story.

Employers increasingly demand “perfect Mandarin” even for positions unrelated to public service. Some companies favor temporary imported labor over locals on grounds of “cultural fit.” And within multicultural teams, subtle exclusion – in meetings, promotions, or informal gatherings – often goes unnoticed but leaves lasting scars.

Macau’s economic model, dependent on gaming and tourism, has always required cross-cultural fluency. But when diversity becomes a pretext for exclusion rather than inclusion, something fundamental erodes.

Since the publication of both the letter and our report, Macau Daily Times has received more anonymous accounts of workplace discrimination. The volume and tone suggest this is not an isolated set of grievances but a growing pattern.

Is this, then, a Macau-only trend, or does it reflect a regional current favoring linguistic and ethnic homogeneity over merit and openness? The answer is not yet clear. But the question itself should trouble us deeply.

If Macau still wants to call itself a bridge between cultures, it must prove it – not in slogans or conferences, but in the everyday fairness of its workplaces.