The Ministry of Education recently unveiled an investment project "NT$50 billion in five years" with the aim of making one of the country's national universities rank among the top 100 in the world and 10 university departments the best in Asia within five years. It appears that promoting higher education is akin to building a skyscraper. Once funds are poured in, the world's highest building will rise up on a Taipei street one day.
Unfortunately, education is not like constructing buildings. It requires plain, solid infrastructure work that doesn't win praise for a long period of time. It is definitely not like a bowl of instant noodles that can immediately appease one's hunger, despite a lack of nutrition. It is worrying that this latest project is merely another instant-noodle plan the ministry plans to carry out following its "pursuit of excellence plan."
What higher-education concepts is the "NT$50 billion in five years" plan based on? At first glance, this project should be called a plan for promoting academic research standards, rather than advancing higher education. Internationally reknowned universities cannot be produced simply by investing heavily, coming up with several dissertations and cultivating a handful of academic stars. Qualifications for such universities are multi-faceted and do not hinge on the quality and quantity of dissertations.
A budget of NT$50 billion can buy taxpayers several good aca-demic papers, but not excellent higher education.
Many first-class US universities or colleges are noted for providing an outstanding education. Their teaching staff, however, are not always distinguished by their research. The main task of these schools is to conduct a college education. They have not set up any graduate institutes. Elevating research standards is certainly related to advancing higher-education quality, but the two are not identical issues.
Given Taiwan's limited national strength, we have to ask the ministry whether educational investment should focus on raising the research standards of a few university departments or boosting the all-round quality of higher education.
The "NT$50 billion in five years" plan means NT$10 billion per year -- which is roughly equal to a 10-year budget for a national university the size of Yang Ming or Chung Cheng. The "pursuit of excellence" plan, implemented in two phases, exhausted more than NT$20 billion, which equals a 20-year budget for a medium-size national university. But how has the nation's academic research advanced after the two-phased project? How much has higher education improved?
Rumors in academic circles say these plans, including the university merger scheme, were drawn up to rationalize the demands by a handful of academic stars' for research subsidies.
Some people predicted that these stars would invent new ideas every three or four years just to justify their huge demand for research funds. A National Taiwan University professor complained at a seminar that he always has to have some proposals ready in his desk so that he can apply for large-scale plans when requested. He said what is lacking is not research funds but a good academic environment.
Most of the ministry's proposals for enhancing the quality of higher education are not that far removed from the thinking prevalent a century ago: a belief that we can transplant Western technology and civilization here by mere superficial emulation. It's the same when it comes to founding universities.
First-class Western universities base their foundation on strong liberal arts and science colleges. You could never name a school which has two weak colleges of liberal arts and science as a first-rate university.
In contrast, none of Taiwan's universities boasts first-class liberal arts and science colleges. How could they possibly become world-renowned schools merely with the help of financial investment? Such a belief shows that neither the education authorities nor the universities' leaders understand what makes an ideal school.
National Taiwan University stands the best chance of becoming a fine university but its college of liberal arts has been weakened by infighting for years. Its philosophy department, which was involved in political struggles, remains unimproved despite the democratization of Taiwan. I've never heard the school's authorities put forth any concrete plan to better the philosophy department or college of liberal arts.
Many of the school's professors believe that the university would be hopeless if the college of liberal arts is not strong. Colleges of liberal arts and science assume a heavy responsibility in a university's basic education, or general knowledge courses. Basic education would fail if the college of liberal arts is weak.
Many academics don't have high expectations for the "NT$50 billion in five years" project. Subsidies of NT$10 billion per year might end up lining the pockets of a handful of academic stars who are already working on the "pursuit of excellence" plan.
The National Science Council, which distributes research funds, has long faced questions about its ability to discover distinguished scholars and give them support.
The council's Department of Humanities and Social Sciences is the most troubled. The factional infighting in the universities has unfortunately spread to this department, which was weak to begin with. The department's leadership avoids responsibility and is incapable of making correct judgements. This has also made power and influence dominant within the academic circles.
Against this backdrop, the "NT$50 billion in five years" project is doomed to fail. Why should the ministry dig its own grave? If advancing higher education is really its goal, why doesn't it use the NT$50 billion to improve universities' colleges of liberal arts and science? With five years set as a phase, we can map out a 20-year plan to boost these colleges.
This may be a plain approach, lacking in glamour and applause. But it would offer hope for our system of higher-education.
Allen Houng is a professor at the Institute of Neuroscience at National Yang-Ming University.
Translated by Jackie Lin
Why is Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) not a “happy camper” these days regarding Taiwan? Taiwanese have not become more “CCP friendly” in response to the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) use of spies and graft by the United Front Work Department, intimidation conducted by the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) and the Armed Police/Coast Guard, and endless subversive political warfare measures, including cyber-attacks, economic coercion, and diplomatic isolation. The percentage of Taiwanese that prefer the status quo or prefer moving towards independence continues to rise — 76 percent as of December last year. According to National Chengchi University (NCCU) polling, the Taiwanese
US President Donald Trump is systematically dismantling the network of multilateral institutions, organizations and agreements that have helped prevent a third world war for more than 70 years. Yet many governments are twisting themselves into knots trying to downplay his actions, insisting that things are not as they seem and that even if they are, confronting the menace in the White House simply is not an option. Disagreement must be carefully disguised to avoid provoking his wrath. For the British political establishment, the convenient excuse is the need to preserve the UK’s “special relationship” with the US. Following their White House
It would be absurd to claim to see a silver lining behind every US President Donald Trump cloud. Those clouds are too many, too dark and too dangerous. All the same, viewed from a domestic political perspective, there is a clear emerging UK upside to Trump’s efforts at crashing the post-Cold War order. It might even get a boost from Thursday’s Washington visit by British Prime Minister Keir Starmer. In July last year, when Starmer became prime minister, the Labour Party was rigidly on the defensive about Europe. Brexit was seen as an electorally unstable issue for a party whose priority
After the coup in Burma in 2021, the country’s decades-long armed conflict escalated into a full-scale war. On one side was the Burmese army; large, well-equipped, and funded by China, supported with weapons, including airplanes and helicopters from China and Russia. On the other side were the pro-democracy forces, composed of countless small ethnic resistance armies. The military junta cut off electricity, phone and cell service, and the Internet in most of the country, leaving resistance forces isolated from the outside world and making it difficult for the various armies to coordinate with one another. Despite being severely outnumbered and
RSS