
Feature
One score, two futures
Once a dictator of domestic destiny, China's gaokao is now doubling as an engine of global student mobility.
By Michelle Zhu
15 July 2026
In brief
- China’s gaokao exam is evolving from domestic-only usage into a credential recognised by top universities worldwide.
- Record numbers of students are using results to enter UK and Australian universities, bypassing intense domestic academic pressures.
- This shift creates global mobility, but institutions must support these students through the resulting cultural and language challenges.
For over 10 million mainland Chinese students sitting for the gaokao each year, studying abroad was long treated as a fallback route should their results fail to secure them a spot in one of China's top-tier universities.
But increasing global acceptance of the gaokao has begun to erode that perspective, as one of the world's toughest college entrance examinations is fast evolving from a single-destination verdict into an international credential.
Nicole Yang, now 21, sat the gaokao in Shanghai in 2023 and described the experience as unreal – something she had been preparing for her entire life would simply be over in a matter of three days.
Though her scores secured her a spot at Shanghai Ocean University, she gave up that domestic path and moved to a polytechnic in Singapore. The reason, she says, was the competitive environment back home: “forced to work and study super hard just for a normal job and normal salary and lots of overwork”.
Staying on the domestic track felt like a waste of time, she says. "I also wanted to try new things and explore more possibilities in life."
Nicole's decision to walk away from a domestic university place would have been unusual a generation ago, but it reflects a wider rewriting of the old gaokao script: one that categorised the option of an education abroad as a "consolation prize" for those who fell short, or a privilege reserved for families wealthy enough to bypass the system.
The fallback that isn't
Amy, a performance manager who asked to be identified by her first name only, remembers how things looked in 2010 when she sat the exam in Hunan Province.
"Many tended to view studying abroad as a fallback option if the gaokao didn't go well," she says. "It was pretty rare for top-performing students in my circle to head straight abroad after high school. It was usually those who underperformed or knew they wouldn't get the results they wanted who chose that route."
Her husband Shalom, a college lecturer who grew up in Shaanxi province, remembers a different reality. In his circle, studying abroad was not a fallback for failure but "a choice made by the excellent students". Those who went overseas did so at the graduate or PhD level and this, in his view, placed them among the best.
Shalom, who sat the gaokao in 2012 and graduated from Xizang Minzu University, notes that even this pattern has begun to change. Studying abroad is slowly shifting from something only top students achieved into a more "normal choice", he says, though he cautions that it remains dependent on having the financial means.
Nicole, from a younger cohort than the husband-and-wife pair (both in their early thirties), describes a more crowded field of motivations.
"Some people still treat it as a fallback option. But also, lots of people now go overseas for a Master's degree, which helps their personal background. Students who do well in the gaokao but not as well as they hoped will also choose this path," she says. "It's a good way to challenge ourselves, expand our views, and obviously, practice English."
The gaokao, once the sole arbiter of a student's future, is now the credential that unlocks a menu of possibilities.
James, 36, has watched this change accelerate from the inside thanks to his work at an international student boarding business in Singapore. Having sat the gaokao in Shandong in 2009, he points to the rapid shift. “In recent years, China has implemented an educational streaming system. Roughly 50 percent of students are channelled into vocational colleges or junior colleges,” he says.
“Meanwhile, Chinese people have become more open-minded, leading more families to send their children to study overseas. This trend has risen markedly over the past five years.”
The numbers back him up. Recent survey data from EIC Education shows that 27.5 percent of current high school students are now simultaneously preparing for the gaokao while applying to overseas universities. A further 39.8 percent focus exclusively on studying abroad, and only 32.7 percent dedicate themselves solely to the gaokao.

Where the scores lead
The global acceptance of the gaokao is reshaping international university applications in real time. Chinese students now account for over a quarter of all non-EU international applicants. Data from UCAS shows that by the June 2025 deadline, a record 33,870 applicants from mainland China had applied to UK undergraduate courses, representing a 10 percent jump from the previous year.
Australia has moved even faster. According to EIC Education, the proportion of mainland Chinese students entering Australian universities directly through the gaokao climbed from 61.7 percent in 2023 to 73.7 percent in 2025, making it the primary undergraduate pathway from China.
Why are so many willing to look abroad? Perhaps part of the answer lies in the exam's uneven toll on those who sit it.
James describes a playing field that never felt level. While the admission score threshold for his university, Shandong University of Science and Technology, was 586 for Shandong students, applicants from other provinces needed only 530, a disparity he finds “deeply unfair”.
He is unequivocal about the cost: "I do not think the pressure and time I poured into the gaokao were worthwhile. Over the years, I have realised that life choices often matter more than sheer hard work."
Shalom, too, remembers the exam's weight. "I was always scared of failing, worried about my future even though I didn't know where it would lead or how things would turn out," he says. "The whole environment – studying, all the effort – served this one goal. Teachers, students, schools, families, everyone worked hard around this one target."
Yet for others, the system delivered on its promise. Amy, who entered Xiamen University on the strength of her gaokao results, believes her effort paid off as it allowed her to “get into a decent university”.
"That time investment really ended up providing a solid foundation for everything that came after,” she says.
Shalom agrees: "For someone from a less developed area, like me, the gaokao was still a fair and clear path to higher education. I think the effort was worth it."
Nonetheless, even those who benefited from the old system now see the appeal of the new one.
Amy says that had widespread direct acceptance of gaokao scores existed in 2010, she would have applied to international universities herself. “And I believe it would have encouraged other high-scoring students to do the same," she adds.
From verdict to visa
The institutional logic is straightforward. British and Australian universities rely heavily on international fees, and Chinese students are the largest single cohort in both countries. As such, accepting the gaokao removes a significant barrier for these institutions: a score that might have secured a place at a modest provincial university at home can now open the door to an institution abroad.
Amy points to a practical advantage: the policy, she says, saves students an immense amount of time and energy. "When separate international exams are required, students often feel forced to make an all-or-nothing choice. Direct acceptance of gaokao scores removes this friction: students can focus on one exam, apply to both domestic and international universities, and ultimately compare their offers."
The policy expansion has been rapid. Today, over 50 institutions accept gaokao results directly, including most Russell Group members and all of Australia's Group of Eight, with several lowering score thresholds in recent years.
Shalom believes that while the financial barrier will temper the shift, it would not stop it: "Money is an important factor, since studying abroad costs much more. But even without the money issue, I believe a good number of high-scoring students would consider studying abroad."

What comes next
The gaokao's transformation into a dual-use credential may offer Chinese students new pathways, but it also carries risks.
A hasty overseas enrolment can mean arriving on campus unprepared for language barriers, culture shock and homesickness. Nearly a quarter of those surveyed by a 2025 Xinhuanet White Paper cited language barriers as their biggest academic challenge. Many also found it difficult to adapt to new cultures and deal with being far from home – a situation that presents a retention challenge for universities worldwide, even after the initial recruiting win of the late-summer application surge.
But for those who can navigate and adapt abroad well enough, this new equation could turn their gaokao results into an international passport.
Nicole captures what this means in practice. "Honestly, if we have the chance to go to the four most popular universities in China (Qinghua, Beijing, Fudan, Jiaotong), we mostly won't go overseas," she says.
"But these are incredibly hard to get into. For the others, if they have the choice to go to a good university like Cambridge, Oxford, NUS, or an Ivy League school, I believe they will go."
The gaokao was never meant to open doors abroad. But for a growing number of students, it now does.
MEET THE AUTHOR
Michelle Zhu is a former correspondent at breaking news desk at The Business Times in Singapore, where she mainly covered corporate announcements including financial earnings, mergers & acquisitions, and board changes. Prior to that, she was part of the editorial team at the Singapore arm of The Edge, a Malaysia-headquartered financial weekly. She holds a Bachelor of Arts in communications and new media from the National University of Singapore.

