By Eric Vandenbroeck and co-workers
Since the United
States and China reopened diplomatic relations in the late 1970s, the leaders of
both countries have recognized the value of having their universities work
together in research and education to promote prosperity and friendship.
Today, however, U.S. policymakers are so concerned about the potential
transfer of advances in science and technology from American university
laboratories to China that, step by step, sometimes intentionally and
inadvertently, they discourage academic exchanges. Research papers
authored jointly by U.S. and Chinese scientists fell in 2021 for the
first time in decades, the number of American scientists of Chinese
descent leaving the United States for China has ticked upward, and surveys of Chinese students thinking of
studying abroad suggest that the United States is becoming a less desirable
destination for many of them.
In late August, the
U.S. government continued to signal its wariness about academic engagements
with China by waiting until the last minute to renew the
landmark U.S.-China Science and Technology Cooperation Agreement, which
dates back to 1979. The agreement commits each country to encouraging contacts
between their people and organizations, paving the way for joint research and
exchanging scientists and students. The Biden administration has extended it
for only another six months, and some lawmakers on Capitol
Hill would like to see it expire.
Although China
pursues its interests when working alongside the United States in scientific
explorations, maintaining connections between the two countries’ scientists may
be more critical than ever. The Beijing-Washington relationship has deteriorated
into something akin to a new Cold War, setting up a dangerous rivalry that
could damage both countries and the world. Universities can contribute to
stabilizing this relationship without increasing the United States’
vulnerability to Chinese espionage or other efforts to benefit unduly from U.S.
research—as long as they do not underestimate the risks posed by engaging with
their counterparts based in a rival nation. But universities—and the U.S.
government—should also avoid exaggerating the risks.
Universities have
often played an essential role in lowering international tensions and
encouraging mutual understanding. Even during the most fraught periods of the
Cold War, the governments of the United States and the Soviet Union saw reasons
to cooperate in academic science. The Lacy-Zaroubin Agreement of
1958 authorized the exchange of delegations of professors between Columbia
University and Moscow University and between Harvard University and Leningrad
University. The deal also charged the U.S. National Academy of
Sciences and the Soviet Academy of Sciences with promoting a broader
series of visits. Eighteen years after these exchanges began, a panel led by MIT economist Carl Kaysen found that the
academy-sponsored program had been a “striking, even spectacular” success in
forging links between the two countries’ scientists, in helping the United
States learn about Soviet capabilities in science and technology, and in
improving relations between the two superpowers.
Of course, there are
important differences between U.S.-Soviet relations during the Cold War and
U.S.-Chinese relations today. The United States was not particularly tied to
the Soviet Union economically. Still, it is to China, which means that economic
and national security concerns are far more intertwined than during the Cold
War. Today, many more technologies are dual-use, with commercial and military
applications. This overlap complicates which research fields are too sensitive
to allow for collaboration. Despite these differences, there is still reason to
believe that academic exchanges can help people transcend their national
narratives and find common ground in pursuing scientific truth.
Brain Gain
One of the most
critical ways American universities promote mutual understanding between
countries while advancing U.S. interests is by educating students worldwide.
More international
students come to the United States than any other country, with China and
India as the top foreign sources of U.S. students. As is often noted, the
ability of American universities to attract the world’s best talent is a key to
the United States’ success. This is also the form of global engagement where
the risks are smallest. Generally, students’ access to information is
circumscribed so that they would have limited utility as foreign agents.
Yet, these days, I
often hear the question: Why would an American university want to educate the
human capital of an unfriendly country? The answer is that, on balance,
educating international talent, including that of cold nations, is
overwhelmingly beneficial to the United States. More than half of American
doctorates go to international students nationwide in fields as crucial to the
economy and national security as engineering, computer science, and
mathematics. The National Science Foundation’s Survey of Earned Doctorates
tells us that most international doctoral recipients—including nearly three of
four Chinese doctoral recipients—intend to remain in the United States after their studies. And
despite the obstacles the U.S. government sets, most find a way to stay.
In 2017, 90 percent of the STEM students from China who’d
earned doctoral degrees in the United States between 2000 and 2015 were still
in the United States, helping the country advance. Instead of contributing
their considerable talents to their home country, they stay and contribute to
the United States. This is a brain gain that the country should be celebrating.
Unfortunately, as a
country, the United States has been undermining itself in recent years with
policies that discourage brilliant students from attending American schools,
beginning in 2017 with the Trump administration’s travel ban targeting
Muslim-majority countries. In 2018, the U.S. government
shortened student visas for Chinese graduate students studying
certain fields from five years to one year. In May 2020, the Trump
administration announced its decision to deny visas to Chinese graduate
students currently or previously affiliated with institutions that support
China’s “military-civil fusion strategy.” The Biden
administration has left this policy in place.
This restriction on
Chinese graduate students is broad and opaque, and the criteria for its
implementation have never been made clear. As long as it remains in effect,
this policy is probably preventing between 3,000 and 5,000 Chinese students
from entering U.S. graduate programs every year, according to a 2021 analysis published by the Center for Security and
Emerging Technology. Although China has a national security law that
compels its citizens to assist in intelligence gathering whenever it
is demanded, reports of Chinese students engaging in activities
that threaten U.S. national or economic security are rare.
Once international
graduate students are in the United States, it can be difficult for them to
remain. After they earn their degrees, most will move from one type of
temporary status to another without a clear path to a green card for permanent
residency. Because the United States has strict annual quotas by
country and by category for green cards, graduate students often have to wait
years before being assured that they and their families won’t be unexpectedly
uprooted.
Many international
graduate students at universities such as MIT become entrepreneurs, often
spinning new companies out of their research in our laboratories. However, the
United States offers no visa specifically for these young founders and requires
employer sponsorship. These founders generally have to prove that they are
employees of their startups—and can be fired—forcing them to choose to lose
control of their inventions or leave the country.
Washington has a
considerable bipartisan consensus that the government needs to fix this
situation and make it as easy for international students who earn advanced
degrees in STEM fields to stay, work, and launch companies in the United
States. Over the years, there have been several proposals to “staple a
green card” to the diplomas of international graduate students in STEM fields.
In July, Senators Dick Durbin (D-Ill.) and Mike Rounds (R-S.Dak.) introduced
legislation exempting advanced STEM graduates from green card quotas.
However, such proposals have been consistently held up in Congress because of
the heated disagreement surrounding comprehensive immigration reform.
What if the
U.S.-educated students don’t stay and instead return home to help the United
States’ geopolitical rivals build their capabilities? They return home with the
perspectives gained on U.S. campuses. Educated young people are often the only
hope for social and political progress in countries that oppress their people
today.
When To Say No
Other engagements
with China, including collaborations in research and institutional
partnerships, demand more circumspection from universities.
Beijing aspires to rival Washington in economic, diplomatic, and
military power and to develop a new world order that promotes different
principles from those that underpin the system the United States and its allies
built after World War II. Unsurprisingly, Beijing has tried to benefit from
technologies invented in the West, and it has sometimes done so through industrial
espionage and the theft of intellectual property.
But China is the
world’s other great superpower in science and engineering, just behind the
United States in its combined public- and private-sector investments in
research and development. Because of the quality of the study now being
conducted in China, Chinese researchers are the most frequent international
co-authors for American researchers in peer-reviewed science and engineering
journals. For that reason, putting blanket limitations on collaborating
with Chinese peers would mean limiting U.S. progress. Nonetheless, both
countries are pressured to construct higher barriers to research and
educational exchanges.
In 2019, MIT tightened
its review process for potential international collaborations with China,
Russia, and Saudi Arabia and projects elsewhere that may carry unique risks.
Proposals are carefully screened, and a small committee of top administrators
reviews the thorniest proposals. By 2021, as tensions grew between the United
States and China, it was clear to MIT that it needed to articulate a strategy
specifically for China. The university formed a group to study the problem. It
charged it with finding a balance between gaining the benefits of scientific
and educational collaboration and avoiding undermining U.S. national or
economic security or human rights in China. The group’s recommendations, which are now university policy, preclude as
potential research partners China’s national defense universities, military
research institutes, national defense laboratories at civilian universities,
and companies that are Chinese military providers or whose activities
contribute to the oppression of Chinese citizens.
Because faculty
members initiate most engagements with China, the group’s report offered MIT
researchers guidance on what activities they can and should undertake and those
they should avoid. The university urges researchers to ensure the benefits of
any collaboration will be mutual. It also urges them to avoid participating in
talent recruitment programs that pay scientists from other nations to conduct
research in China or to open laboratories there and establish norms within
their research group surrounding information sharing.
As universities
consider the risks involved in any international engagement, they should also
consider what they risk by not collaborating with foreign partners.
If universities can strike the right balance, they can safeguard open scientific
research, open exchange, and the free flow of ideas and people while still
recognizing that, when dealing with countries that have authoritarian
governments, the goodwill of individual researchers does not guarantee a good
result.
Wrongly Accused
Sometimes, however,
when it comes to China, the government from which U.S. academics need
protection is their own. In 2018, the U.S. Justice Department launched the
China Initiative to address the theft of sensitive data and technologies by
people funded by the Chinese government. Many academic scientists and engineers
felt stigmatized by these investigations because they were born in China or
were of Chinese descent. Add to this a wave of hate crimes against Asian
Americans during the pandemic, and the result was a sense of fear and anxiety
among people whose talents the United States has long welcomed.
At MIT, this quickly
became personal, as one of our colleagues, Gang Chen, a distinguished professor
and an expert in heat transfer and energy conversion, was arrested and charged
by federal prosecutors with failing to disclose Chinese affiliations
on grant applications. We had faith in him initially, and the Department of
Justice ultimately dropped the charges. His story was not
unique: several such cases against university researchers were
dropped or dismissed.
The Department of
Justice has since recognized the unfairness of the China Initiative name, which
suggested a lower threshold for prosecution for people with Chinese
ties or heritage—and retired the program in favor of its broader Strategy for Countering
Nation-State Threats. But the effects still linger, with researchers such
as Chen, who were wrongly accused, now much more cautious in their
work and in their decisions about whether to seek federal funding or which
students and collaborators to take on. A recently published survey of Chinese American university scientists
sponsored by the Asian American Scholar Forum found that 72 percent
do not feel safe as an academic researcher in the United States, 65 percent are
worried about collaborations with China, and 86 percent find it harder to
recruit international students.
In considering
security risks, every university should go beyond mere compliance with
government rules and put policies in place to help the institution and
individual faculty members decide when foreign collaborations are appropriate
and when they are not. And clearly, the United States government must take
action against anyone illicitly transferring technologies to other countries.
However, it is up to both government and university leaders to ensure that
legitimate national security concerns do not result in indiscriminate policies
that make most academic exchanges impossible. Different kinds of collaborations
involve various levels of risk, and they should be assessed accordingly. For
example, associations where each country’s scientists work in their
laboratories but publish together may raise fewer issues than those in which
laboratories are shared.
There are also
specific fields—such as climate change, pandemic prevention, cancer treatment,
and food safety—where the risks of collaborating are small and the potential
benefits to humanity are immense. Even in those areas of science and
engineering in which China and the United States are ferociously competitive,
it may be possible to join forces on fundamental, pre-competitive research. The
scientific advances resulting from such collaborations are openly published to
benefit the world—even as the two nations race each other to develop
applications based on that science to their advantage.
Great-Power Education
Suppose American
universities are strongly discouraged from working with China. In that case,
they will no longer have the ability to accelerate progress on global
challenges by sharing ideas and resources with Chinese scientists or to improve
themselves through collaboration, competition, and attracting great talent.
And, most importantly, the United States will understand much less about where
China stands—not just in terms of technology development and military
modernization but also in terms of its people’s goals and aspirations.
Unfortunately, China
now seems less interested in being known. It has cut off foreign
access to its most important academic databases, frustrating not just
U.S. scientists and engineers but also Americans who study China’s economy,
politics, culture, and history and who help the United States comprehend
its most significant geopolitical competitor.
Scientific
cooperation is essential to diplomacy, generating open-mindedness, patience,
and fellow feeling. Once they begin working together for a higher cause,
faculty and students from countries with long-standing animosities often
overcome their cultural biases and learn to respect each other as
peers. Connections forged in academic settings can have enormous
geopolitical consequences: During the Cold War, the trust American scientists
established with their Soviet colleagues while considering purely scientific
issues helped to lead to bilateral agreements on arms
control. Although not everyone approves of the Iran nuclear agreement
reached in 2015, the fact that a deal could be achieved at all was surely
helped by the MIT connection shared by two of the key people negotiating it:
then U.S. Secretary of Energy Ernest Moniz, a longtime MIT faculty member, and
Ali Akbar Salehi, then head of the Atomic Energy Organization of Iran and an
MIT alumnus. Moniz has said that although the two men did not know each other
at MIT, they had mutual friends and professional contacts thanks to their
affiliation with the university, which helped them build mutual trust.
The United States
must develop a fuller understanding of its strategic competitors to challenge
them and seek common ground for peaceful coexistence and mutual prosperity in a
non-zero-sum world. If the United States and China cease trying to understand each
other, the results may be catastrophic.
Universities can
build bridges through education, research, and joint problem-solving. Because
they employ the shared common language of science and scholarship, they are
sometimes the only institutions still able to build those bridges when dialogue
seems impossible. American universities should embrace the responsibility to
build them despite the political headwinds.
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