Addressing the 2005 Youth National Affairs Conference (
Generally, only four universities in China are recognized as meeting top-flight international standards: Peking University and Tsinghua University in Beijing, and Fudan University and Jiao Tong University in Shanghai. US assessments rank Peking University, the most prestigious of the four, 170th on a list of major universities. Taiwan's top university, National Taiwan University, ranks around 100th. It is hardly likely that Taiwan's elite students would forgo attending the nation's top universities in favor of going to China, as one pro-unification newspaper has suggested.
There are three types of Taiwanese students studying in China. There are those who performed poorly in college entrance or graduate school entrance exams; those who intend to pursue advanced studies in Chinese medicine; and KMT, People First Party or independent politicians who want to obtain a higher degree while avoiding the more stringent standards they would face at home.
Moreover, entry into universities in China is generally organized by agencies that charge between NT$100,000 to NT$200,000 for admission. Students who are admitted in this way are not required to go through the examinations held by China's Ministry of Education, and therefore only obtain a "certificate of completion" rather than a degree recognized by the Chinese government at the end of their studies.
What is even more absurd is that a number of especially affluent lawmakers, seeking to avoid the fate of KMT Legislator Yu Yueh-hsia (游月霞) -- who remained so long in China that she failed to attend legislative sittings and subsequently lost her seat -- are bringing their "teachers" over from China. In this way, classes can be held at convenient times, between legislative sessions and seeing to constituents.
Others attend classes for a few days at the beginning and end of each term, then settle matters with their professors to guarantee that they pass the exams. There is no need to ask about the quality of graduates produced from this system.
Some education professionals in Taiwan have warned against recognizing Chinese degrees, as the nation's 100 or so universities already have trouble filling spots. If Chinese degrees were recognized, many of these schools might face closure because of a lack of students. The result would be more unemployed teachers. It would also deal a serious blow to education in Taiwan, not dissimilar to that caused by the hollowing out of the industrial base through the transfer of production to China.
If Ma has any concern for Taiwan, how can he countenance a "united front" strategy that attempts to drag Taiwan's education down to the same level as China's? The low standing of many Chinese institutes of higher education is a result of its poor education system. Taiwan has the right not to recognize qualifications of such institutes in order to protect its own institutions.
Chen's insistence that Chinese degrees not be recognized is perfectly appropriate. Ma should take a long, hard look at his own misdirected policy.
Labubu, an elf-like plush toy with pointy ears and nine serrated teeth, has become a global sensation, worn by celebrities including Rihanna and Dua Lipa. These dolls are sold out in stores from Singapore to London; a human-sized version recently fetched a whopping US$150,000 at an auction in Beijing. With all the social media buzz, it is worth asking if we are witnessing the rise of a new-age collectible, or whether Labubu is a mere fad destined to fade. Investors certainly want to know. Pop Mart International Group Ltd, the Chinese manufacturer behind this trendy toy, has rallied 178 percent
My youngest son attends a university in Taipei. Throughout the past two years, whenever I have brought him his luggage or picked him up for the end of a semester or the start of a break, I have stayed at a hotel near his campus. In doing so, I have noticed a strange phenomenon: The hotel’s TV contained an unusual number of Chinese channels, filled with accents that would make a person feel as if they are in China. It is quite exhausting. A few days ago, while staying in the hotel, I found that of the 50 available TV channels,
Kinmen County’s political geography is provocative in and of itself. A pair of islets running up abreast the Chinese mainland, just 20 minutes by ferry from the Chinese city of Xiamen, Kinmen remains under the Taiwanese government’s control, after China’s failed invasion attempt in 1949. The provocative nature of Kinmen’s existence, along with the Matsu Islands off the coast of China’s Fuzhou City, has led to no shortage of outrageous takes and analyses in foreign media either fearmongering of a Chinese invasion or using these accidents of history to somehow understand Taiwan. Every few months a foreign reporter goes to
There is no such thing as a “silicon shield.” This trope has gained traction in the world of Taiwanese news, likely with the best intentions. Anything that breaks the China-controlled narrative that Taiwan is doomed to be conquered is welcome, but after observing its rise in recent months, I now believe that the “silicon shield” is a myth — one that is ultimately working against Taiwan. The basic silicon shield idea is that the world, particularly the US, would rush to defend Taiwan against a Chinese invasion because they do not want Beijing to seize the nation’s vital and unique chip industry. However,