Did corruption in Chinese universities cause the suicide of a brilliant young academic?

The Chinese government is not notable for accountability or responsiveness. And therefore, when the lapidary notice appeared in the official press that the 31 October meeting of the Standing Committee of the National People’s Congress had announced the replacement of Zhou Ji by Yuan Guiren as Minister of Education, it was hardly surprising that no further comment followed.

The Chinese blogosphere, and the expat academic population, claim to be a great deal better informed. They are absolutely buzzing with news of the recent suicide of a young academic at the prestigious Zhejiang University, just south of Shanghai. Dr Tu Xuxin, who had completed a Master’s degree and then a PhD in geotechnical engineering at Northwestern University in the USA, had returned to China to take up a senior position at Zhejiang. Three months later he jumped head first off the top of one of the university buildings.

The story is that Dr Tu fell foul of endemic corruption in Chinese universities. In his six-page suicide note he claimed that he had been lured back to Zhejiang on the basis that the university, already one of considerable reputation, was offering 100 newly-funded senior academic jobs, of which he had been promised one. When he arrived home, he discovered that the promises he had received were worthless. The salary range he had been encouraged to expect was £20-30,000: he was given £5,000, with no prospect of improvement. Having brought his wife back to China with him, he found her heavily disappointed and blaming it on him. The suicide note spoke of “the reality about the world of academics and research in China: cruelty, treachery, and apathy.”

Sympathy rippled around the Chinese-speaking world: but some of it was tinged with realism. A contributor to the longhoo.net site, while sympathising with the poor man, put it thus:

“Dr Tu had made the mistake of not fully researching how things are done and pursued in the academic scene in China. If anything, he should’ve been better prepared to handle the difference in expectations. Those that have lived, studied, and worked for some time overseas are easily blinded by gushes of patriotism for their home country, and thus wistfully buy into the idea that they can make huge contributions on grounds of their better talents and abilities. However, such wistful thinking is naïve in that they haven’t fully grasped the networks of connections that are the unspoken rules of the academic circle in China. Partition and usage of research funds in Chinese universities lie with the discretion of the privileged few – those with the connections. Dr Tu wasn’t prepared for this: the American system he had worked with was all about fairness and talent.”

At the same time, a story from three years ago is gradually surfacing on the net. In Yongzhou, in Hunan province, video evidence has come to light allegedly showing Zhang Yaoyin, an 11-year-old girl, being beaten to a pulp with an iron bar by her teacher, in front of the class, and then thrown out of a fourth-floor window to her death.

In any case, Education Minister Zhou Ji has resigned, or at least been transferred to an inferior post, and my Chinese friends attribute his resignation to at least one of these affairs. For the honour of China, let’s hope they’re right. China needs proper accountability, not just for sustained economic success, but for full acceptance as part of the civilised world. May Dr Tu Xuxin and Miss Zhang Yaoyin rest in peace.