Pundits, journalists, and think tanks have spent years warning about the dangers of academic collaboration with China. Their admonitions often include hand-wringing about Chinese students and scholars stealing American secrets and know-how, at times flirting with racist tropes in the process. However, the bipartisan rush to condemn perceived Chinese threats too often ignores the enormous benefits that American institutions of higher education glean from collaboration and cooperation with their Chinese counterparts.
Scientists at American institutions of higher learning choose research partners not in response to covert operations from a hostile foreign power but based on the prospects for advancement and discovery. Often that means working with partners at Chinese universities. China is one of the world’s leaders in scientific publications because it has invested heavily in higher education and research and development. Cutting off collaboration with these partners wholesale rather than in narrow instances where national security is a concern hurts American science, the American economy, and higher education.
…we should not be in a competition with China to be more closed, to be quicker to censor. Instead, our focus should be on ensuring our higher education system remains the strongest and most open in the world.
Cases of Chinese scholars pilfering information from an academic institution are exceedingly rare, and hardly justify responses like the Department of Justice’s China Initiative, which reportedly opened a new case about China every 12 hours. One need only to read about the tragic injustice endured by Professor Chen Gang of MIT to understand the damage these fear-driven policies produce both on the personal and institutional levels. Professor Chen, a U.S. citizen, had his home raided and suffered years of reputational damage and distraction from his work, only to have the charges eventually dropped entirely.
The unsurprising byproduct of our new Red Scare is that Chinese colleagues and those of Chinese descent enrolled or employed at American institutions feel less welcome and under greater suspicion than ever before. Chinese students and scholars make invaluable contributions to our academic institutions and society, and cutting ourselves off from these colleagues without just cause needlessly damages our institutions of higher learning, which are among the world’s greatest.
This is not to say there is no risk to academic engagement. Concerns about the role of Confucius Institutes on American campuses, the damaging effect of Chinese students who (anecdotally) fear that what they say in class will be reported back to Beijing, and administrators who may shrink from their responsibilities when engaging in subjects deemed “sensitive” by authorities in Beijing are all serious and real issues. American universities need to address these specific concerns with urgency in order to remain vigilant about protecting the principle that has made us strong in the first place: academic freedom.
But arguments over “reciprocity” — the concept that however the Chinese treat us, we should treat them — should not dictate how we handle these cases. It is true that American academics have a harder time accessing archives and conducting interviews in China, and that the range of topics considered “sensitive” by the Communist Party of China has grown considerably in recent years. But we should not be in a competition with China to be more closed, to be quicker to censor. Instead, our focus should be on ensuring our higher education system remains the strongest and most open in the world.
Making it harder for Chinese students to come to the United States will not stop Chinese progress, either. Chinese scientists will simply work with other academics in Europe, Asia, and Australia. Denying students visas to enter the United States will not guarantee their return to China; they will most likely simply study elsewhere.
Working and communicating directly with people on the ground in China can help penetrate pervasive government rhetoric and propaganda… Cutting off contact is a foolish, blunt, and counterproductive proxy for getting tough.
And while we’re at it, we should continue to send American scholars and students to China through platforms like the Fulbright program, which was recently suspended. Working and communicating directly with people on the ground in China can help penetrate pervasive government rhetoric and propaganda. American scholars who have returned from Fulbright trips to China have gone on to write and teach on China in ways that inform the American public, policymakers, and students in ways that otherwise would have been impossible. Why would we needlessly deprive ourselves of those opportunities? Cutting off contact is a foolish, blunt, and counterproductive proxy for getting tough.
Where has our faith in ourselves and our country gone? What are the risks of keeping our universities open? What do we have to fear? Have we so little faith in our political and social systems to compel allegiance through their attractions?
Are we concerned that Chinese students and scholars are here to pilfer technical secrets or to spy on their classmates? There is indeed some risk from a very small number of students and scholars. But do we see academic institutions as passive receptors of such influence? Do we doubt our own abilities to blunt this risk while taking full advantage of the benefits?
Or has fear itself become our enemy?
Dan Murphy is executive director at the Mossavar-Rahmani Center for Business and Government at the Harvard Kennedy School. He has spent more than two decades involved with China. His views are his own and not those of his employer.
