Why I am changing my research direction: a look back into past experiences

It’s (kind of) official: I am changing the direction of my research area from political science into innovation and entrepreneurship studies.

Within the last three years of my undergraduate studies in HKUST in particular – and more than 10 years in general, I assume – I have been personally very interested in the studies of international relations, political economy, and political science. Throughout my undergraduate life thus far, I have been involved in over 4 research projects that deal primarily within these areas. I have done research on China-Africa relations, comparative analysis of hybrid regimes (or semi-democracies, or to plainly explain it, countries that have both mixed democratic and autocratic features), China’s Belt and Road initiative, as well as China’s anti-corruption campaign. Much of my research – for now – has been focusing on transnational relations between various government units, co-national communities, private firms, and civil-society organizations, or on features of domestic politics of various countries, and compiling databases relating to those projects – such as list of Chinese enterprises based in African countries (in total over 800 data entries), list of projects (possibly) associated with Belt and Road initiative (somewhere like 900), list of officials apprehended under the most recent anti-corruption campaign in China (above 300), and database on election results in several countries.

Indeed, doing research on innovation and entrepreneurship was – until somewhere this year – probably the last thing I have ever conceived about when you asked me about my research priorities. Reflecting back to my prior experiences, I can tell you – very honestly – that even having been involved in many of these projects, I actually did not know precisely what kind of research direction, or specialization, I am delving into. My participation in research projects, to draw an analogy, is like jumping from one stone into another in a river. I have research interest in numerous areas, but I can hardly explain – especially to my fellow friends and family members – what exactly I am interested in. I do not have a firm standing on what I want to specialize into. It is perfectly fine to do research in multiple disciplinary areas; but constantly being involved in simply doing everything is hardly a wise idea. I am learning that lesson the hard way.


When I was in my first year of my undergraduate life, I completely had no qualms about what I was planning to do in my future life – other than doing research. Having been a bookworm for a lifetime, my only big interest is to ‘gotta be able to do something that relates to the stuff I’ve read’. Thereafter, I looked into a full list of projects offered by Undergraduate Research Opportunities Office (UROP) in HKUST, and the project about China-Africa economic relations aroused my curiosity. Back then, it was like July 2014. UROP registration has been closed since the end of June, but I decided to give a go. I contacted the project’s principal investigator, Prof. Barry Sautman, telling him that I would volunteer for this project for research experience. Thus, it became the first research experience in my life. All research papers relating to China-Africa relations, be it economics, bilateral relations, historical analysis, or community relations, are given first priority. That commitment continued all the way for 3 years; even my final-year thesis relates to the studies of China-Africa relations.

Consider that as my first ‘stone’. The second ‘stone’ took place in 2015, as I also participated in another research project about hybrid regimes and semi-democratic countries. I emailed the principal investigator, Prof. Sing Ming, and here came my so-called ‘historical sojourn from one paper to another’. Within that project – in addition to the existing China-Africa one – I delved from studying the political history of Thailand in 20th century to a comparative analysis of political histories of Malaysia and Venezuela, what made them ‘similar’, what made them ‘different’, and to a lesser extent, also ventured into studying political histories of other countries, ranging from Taiwan to South Korea to Indonesia to Mexico to Spain. One of my professors even dubbed me a ‘walking Wikipedia’ given the knowledge I had accumulated. Again, knowledge and expertise are two different concepts: knowledge means one simply knows something; expertise is what – and how – you are trying to deal with regarding the knowledge already accumulated.

The third ‘stone’ was in the following year, 2016. China has been busily touting its Belt and Road initiative, having claimed that over 70 countries in Asia, Africa, and Europe have signed up to the initiative thus far. Imagine trillions of dollars of Chinese money to be poured into building infrastructure, industrial parks, and everything else you can imagine what Chinese enterprises can – and will do – across those three continents. The attention being paid to anything related to Belt and Road is so high that it feels like a person smoking the highest-quality weed. And nope, I am not going to use such colloquial language in my research papers. Despite numerous debates about the initiative (even on the question whether One Belt One Road is actually an initiative or a slogan, given tremendous ambiguities surrounding the term), there has been much ‘research’ interest in it. There, I initiated an independent-study project by my own, being completely clueless about what actually is to be researched about it.

Simultaneously, it was also in the same year that the word ‘startup’ became a buzzword in my mind, my personal metaphorical buzzing bee. As almost everyone I knew was very hyped into startups, I was – to some extent – quite involved in it. I had kept myself occupied with three different research projects (China-Africa relations, hybrid regimes, and Belt and Road Initiative), and added to these lollipops were my informal work with a close friend of mine, Christine, in researching about blockchain, enrollment in a new minor program, entrepreneurship, and working on my final-year thesis. ‘Blockchain’ was the name of the second bee in my head, and although Christine and I had many ideas but no fixed ideas on what we can research on nor do about blockchain, we were still kind of ‘working on it’. Call it an organized mess: although I divided my schedule regularly, my attention remained disorganized and scattered elsewhere. I have shown a side interest in blockchain and startups, and that partially motivated me to enroll in Entrepreneurship minor, simply to see ‘what’s up there’.

2016 was also an uneasy year for me (not primarily because of Brexit and Donald Trump); at that time, I simply did not want to imagine what 2017 would look like for me. My another focus, in addition to the two things mentioned above, was to prepare for postgraduate studies, particularly to the US. To be honest, even after more than 2 years of research experience, in spite of numerous research interests, I am still unsure about what I actually want to specialize during my postgraduate studies. I did not even want to know what the odds are for me in terms of applying for political science PhD programs; I decided to apply for 9 universites in the US, all top-tier (including most Ivy League schools, Berkeley, MIT, NYU, and Chicago), and for a ‘safe bet’, including MPhil program in HKUST and 1 MSc program in NTU, Singapore. My expenses became swollen as I had to pay tremendous fees for GRE test, TOEFL test, delivery fees for both certificates to each school, as well as the application fees for each university. All these moves taking place when my standing on those stones remains unstable.

And there came 2017. In anticipation of all-out rejection from all universities I have applied, I began to apply for various job positions. I would say it’s all pretty last-moment job submissions, as many people had submitted their job applications for 2017 positions before the end of 2016. I applied to over 20 companies, only to receive no responses in the end (despite my research experiences and academic achievements). The first three months of this year were intense for me as I am completely clueless of what post-graduation life I will go into. I dropped my minor program due to repeatedly receiving bad grades that pushed my CGA downward; the ‘blockchain’ bee died, and the ‘startup’ bee had stopped buzzing. PhD application results were out, and one by one, I was rejected. Once, on a Saturday morning, right after I woke up, I received 3 consecutive rejection emails from MIT, Cornell, and Stanford. I wanted to cry, but immediately I went to shower, had breakfast, and ran to library to continue working on my final-year thesis. Even receiving Master’s offers from NYU and Chicago was not a delightful alternative for me, either. My primary interest was research postgraduate, not taught postgraduate; moreover, NYU did not give me scholarship, and I could not afford the fees; Chicago offered 50% scholarship, but covering the other 50% had given me enough headache. I initially thought about applying for student loans, but eventually ditched it given my personal fear of ‘unknown unknowns’. And the question about my research interest? That is the last question I ever wanted to answer. My last alternative is to apply as a research assistant, but again, this position is subject to the funding size of those projects.

At that time, I had already no longer worked for my independent-study project on Belt and Road initiative (having concluded, after 95 pages of text and appendix, that there remains no conclusive definition on what on earth that initiative is) and the hybrid-regime project. In order to minimize my paranoid tendencies by keeping myself busy, I decided to look into one ‘last’ research project for my undergraduate period. The project, led by Prof. Franziska Keller, was about the most recent anti-corruption campaign in China. I wasn’t sure about what precisely research questions that I aimed to answer in the research project, but anyway, I decided to give it the so-called ‘last chance’.

By the end of March 2017, my personal uncertainty (kind of) came to an end with a 2-year MPhil offer issued for me by Department of Social Science in my current university. I would consider it as the best deal compared to the other two offers from NYU and Chicago. To be honest, reason number one why I considered it the best deal was the research studentship (not salary) package provided to the students: I have personally estimated that if I end up on this track, I could afford to save up to one-third of my studentship monthly for the next 2 years, instead of accumulating student debt and constantly running in the red on the other two tracks. Reason number two relates to a piece of advice I received from one of my seniors, who is currently pursuing a PhD program in economic research in UK: look for the faculty you want to work together with, not solely the school’s brand. He told me he personally regretted taking a Master’s degree in London School of Economics (LSE), and would rather do an MPhil in HKUST instead with an economics professor he has long acquainted with.

An offer from NYU and Chicago (and lastly from NTU) is a very attractive one, but I end up accepting an MPhil offer here. And there comes reason number three: I could continue staying in touch with my close friends here, and in particular with my family within Asia, at least for two more years.


Okay, I haven’t written precisely why I am changing my research direction. Now that I have accepted the MPhil offer, the next challenge is to identify what kind of research project and/or topic I will be working on. I was already unsure if I wanted to continue working on, be it China-Africa relations, or hybrid regimes, or anti-corruption campaign in China. Therefore I began to browse into the websites of some HKUST-affiliated research institutes. I stumbled upon the website of Institute of Emerging Market Studies (IEMS), while partially expressing regret for not taking up opportunities in relation to some of the research projects offered there. Until one project title suddenly caught my attention:


My reaction upon looking at that project title – proposed by Prof. Naubahar Sharif – was like falling in love with somebody at the first sight (I had numerous such experiences, and they were all bad). It may sound hyperbolic and even weird, but I had a deep ‘crush’ on the idea embodied in this project: startups sound so cool once again, why not moving into this area instead? Not long after accepting the MPhil offer, I immediately contacted Prof. Sharif, and we immediately had our first meeting in early April. He gave me a list of readings I could refer to for literature review, and from those readings, I referred to their citations and references for further review. For the next four months (until today), I have read nearly 30 journal articles, think-tank reports, book chapters, working papers, and various other research works, the topics by which deal with startup ecosystem, science, technology, innovation and entrepreneurship policies, why certain cities demonstrate very lively dynamics while others are stagnant or even declining, university spinoffs, triple-helix (government-industry-academia) dynamics, and finally, startups themselves.

Discovering this new research field gives me a completely different feeling and perspective when compared to the previous research projects I had committed in the past. I don’t know anyone else who switched from political science to innovation and entrepreneurship studies, but if you ask for my subjective interpretation of these two fields, I would personally opine that doing research in the latter – at least during the literature review – is much ‘livelier’ compared to the former. Innovation studies, based on my merely four-month-old comprehension, always talk about new possibilities, constant dynamics of interaction between the academia, research institutions, new technologies, government policies and regulations, industrial actors, as well as cultural and social norms and perception, and ideas to improve societies. Don’t get me wrong, I have learned and acquired a tremendous amount of information and insight from research in political economy and political science, too, nor have ever I expressed the slightest bit of regret ever taking these projects. Indeed, these projects were the precise reason why I end up undertaking research on innovation and entrepreneurship studies; it was only by looking back that I could draw a line among these dots. I simply feel that constantly doing research surrounding these disciplinary fields does not give me a fresh spark of inspiration. I acknowledge that many of the academicians in these fields are well-read scholars, but there tends to be a predisposition where the notion of political correctness is overly emphasized, as I have perceived upon reading dozens of journal articles in the past projects.

For me, getting involved in these four projects has been such a priceless experience for me throughout my university life. First, I learned to acquire further knowledge, but that was insufficient, which led me to the second point: what to do with the knowledge gained. And this led to the third aspect: which areas of knowledge – having been acquired and categorized – we aim to specialize further.

Finally, my piece of advice for those who are still in undergraduate education, but are already deep into research: explore as many areas you are interested as possible. Just giving examples: if you are into computer science but  unsure of what you are trying to do, try projects in, say, big-data analysis. If at some point you feel bored with it and want to move on, you can go to another area, say, cybersecurity, or machine learning, or something that is not necessarily related to your area of specialization, say, 3D printing, or robotics. If you like economics but not sure of what you want to precisely do, try, let’s say, a marketing research project, or a behavioral-economics study, or learned to do big-data analysis through large datasets of macroeconomic indicators (I have recently spent some time learning programming in R in the last 2 months), or even read some philosophy books to understand concepts like constructivism and epistemology, which maybe you can use to understand how on earth these economists shaped the theories we are now familiar with (that was the approach I used in my final-year thesis on the studies of China-Africa relations). If you are still interested to do research in political science, you are more than welcome to explore this field, as there remain a plethora of unanswered research questions out there waiting to be explored. Is democracy declining? Does it not matter whether we live in democracies or autocracies? Are we even on the same page in defining what is ‘democracy’ and what is ‘dictatorship’, and what not, their mechanisms, characteristics, and flaws altogether? My personal belief, in this regard, is that it matters to become not only professional in one confined area of expertise, but also to acquire an interdisciplinary understanding of knowledge.

There is no guarantee, however, if my method works on everybody else; I am simply giving suggestions based on my own personal experiences. In the end, it is up to everyone to decide what kinds of trajectories in life, especially in research, one is to undertake.

Don’t be shocked when there are buzzing bees inside your head; deal with it, and good luck exploring!

Into post-undergraduate life: reflection, regrets, and some advice

A picture of HKUST. Photo: Angelica Kosasih


I was inspired to write this blog post only last night, when I was about to sleep. Having spent almost three weeks in Cambodia with another close friend of mine, Vaishak, in order to observe the implementation of a mobile health (mHealth) project, we have – during the spare time – frequently talked about reminiscing our undergraduate lives back in our university, HKUST. We talked about our friends, moments, experiences, and everything else about life in general. And that was the point that I became so motivated to write something about my overall impression, feelings, and reflection about what I have learned in the last 4 years of my university life here.

Now approaching the end of my undergraduate life – and soon to resume another 2 years of research postgraduate studies in the same university in less than 3 months, I did a flashback to 2013, the first year I entered the university. At that time, I did not put HKUST into my utmost priority: originally, my actual priority was to opt for Singaporean universities. Indeed, of all 6 universities in both cities that I had applied during my high school, HKUST was the last university that I opted for: I submitted my application almost 1 day before the application deadline. However, HKUST was also the first university of all I had applied to give me an admission offer, although it was still conditional.

The major that I chose was also considered unusual: Global China Studies. I have always had an academic interest to strengthen my expertise in international relations and political science. When I was looking at this major, I was like, “What the heck is this? But it looks interesting.” Given my intense interest about international relations, especially about the “rise of China” discourse, I decided to give it a try. Global China Studies, indeed, was the only major program that I applied to.

Still, despite HKUST having given me the first offer, I was still waiting for application results from Singaporean universities. NTU had rejected me beforehand, and I was already not too confident about NUS results. SMU (Singapore Management University) was putting my application result on hold, as I had to retake its SAT test before its deadline in May that year; for the first SAT test I took, I scored 1890, 10 points below their minimum requirement (1900). I took it for the second time, and this time, I got a test score of 1950. How ‘briefly’ excited I was at that time, until a hidden voice inside my mind suddenly urged me to change my decision, and accept HKUST admission offer instead. I truly have not a single hint of how that ‘divine intervention’ occurred: the inner voice just kept pushing me to accept HKUST offer. There, I made what was considered by my parents a big “U-turn”: after having spent quite a lot of money for SAT preparatory courses in order to get into SMU, I fixed my decision to go for HKUST instead.

All this was happening despite City University of Hong Kong (CityU) also giving me an admission offer, with a full-coverage, 4-year scholarship guaranteed. My parents at that time had urged me to reconsider my HKUST offer, but somehow the inner voice within my mind – ‘divine intervention’ second time, perhaps? – kept urging me to “have faith”. After further deliberation with other family members, including my aunt and my cousin, who used to study in CityU, their suggestion was that I pursue my studies in HKUST. Near the end of August 2013, I set off, for the first time in my life, for a life overseas.

Before setting off to this university, I have never really left my hometown. I was born and raised in Medan (Indonesia’s fourth most populous city), and lived my life there for the first 18 years of my life. And so were my parents: they were born and raised in the same hometown as I did, and they have lived almost their entire lives there for close to half a century. We occasionally had annual overseas trips to neighboring countries, but none in my family had ever really moved to another place before. Our lifestyle has been pretty much the same lifestyle for most other people in my hometown. We lived a pretty secure, stable, middle-class life, with a limited sense of adventure, and a constant craving for stability. As I had recurrent asthma attacks when I was a young child and had to be occasionally hospitalized, my parents – to a certain extent – were quite protective of me. But I could understand their reasoning and concerns: they are simply afraid of me suffering from sudden asthmatic conditions. The only sport I did (and still do) is doing athletics: I joined an athletic club in my school for almost 3 years, and it kind of reduced my asthmatic tendencies. None of my family members has learned swimming, and neither have I, but at least we do running and badminton. My childhood was not too special either: I was frequently a top performer in my class, pretty active in extracurricular activities, and got to know a lot of friends and acquaintances, but in reality, my friendship circle was quite small and limited. I became a class monitor for 2 years, and I became what my fellow friends described me as a “good boy”, always leaning to teachers’ advice. When I moved to Hong Kong for the first time, these were all the traits that I had carried with me: “good boy”, study-hard personality, nerdy, not so into adventure, a bookish person, and one craving for stability.

However, adjusting to life here was barely as easy as I had experienced for the first 18 years of my life in my hometown. Perhaps I just want to be honest here, but for the first few days when I was here in HKUST, I actually always ended up weeping when I was lying in bed, going to sleep. The dorm room was small, perhaps only one-third of the size of my room back in my hometown, and the furniture was dusty. At first sight, I had yet to fully realize about the even more miserable realities being faced by a certain proportion of Hong Kong population living in so-called “subdivided flats”, whose houses (literally houses) were even smaller than the double-room I had stayed in. Indeed, the double room I stayed in was quite ‘spacious’. That was already my first struggle.

Secondly, I was only one of a very select few among international students who have enrolled in this Global China Studies program, at that time barely two years old. When other academic programs had been compared to as ‘adults’, this program was still like a toddler. That sense of rarity further isolated me, coupled with the fact that I am the only Indonesian student (until now, literally) who enrolled in this program. Most other people would opt for either business or engineering majors. Also, I did not have a strong connection with most local students undertaking the same program as I did, given what Willy Brandt described as “the wall in the mind”. There, I felt constantly lonely given that I sometimes did not really know to whom I should share my insight, my knowledge, and my ideas with.

Third, coping with life in HKUST was like overcoming a constant, massive, and unending cultural shock. Even if I have to be completely honest, after four years studying here, I occasionally still face a significant cultural shock. I love the diversity of this place, but it is the same diversity that always tests the degree of my open-mindedness. I got to know a lot of international friends from many other places across the world, such as Malaysia, South Korea, India, China, Sweden, Poland, France, Switzerland, United States, El Salvador, Singapore, the Philippines, Russia, and so many countries else, including local Hong Kong friends, and in particular, some new Indonesian friends here. And to make it even more twisting, their backgrounds are more colorful than their nationalities can tell: Korean friends I know who have spent years outside their home countries, in a range of places from the United States, to Southeast Asian countries, and even more interestingly, in the Middle East. A half-Chinese, half-French, but having lived in different parts of the world. A half-Lebanese, half-Italian, who is fluent in five languages. A half-Hong Kong, half-Korean, who spent much of her life in China, carrying a Cantonese-sounding name, but speaks no Cantonese and has Korean and English as her native languages. A 50% local, 25% white American, and 25% Japanese American, who lived almost all his life in Hong Kong. A half-Singaporean, half-Filipino. An Israeli who served in the army and had recounted to me his experiences combating Hamas militia. An Indonesian who studied in France and communicated to her parents in three different languages: Indonesian, English, and French. A Taiwanese, but knows as many Indians, Pakistanis, and South Asians as she befriends her fellow Taiwanese. An American hailing from a very conservative town in a conservative state who has lived in Morocco, Germany, and other parts of the world. A Polish libertarian who happens to love Indian vegetarian food. A South Indian living in Chennai, but does not speak fluent Tamil. Malaysians that spent most of their lives in Shanghai, and numerous other cities across the world. A South Korean who lives in Vietnam almost all her life, and has almost no linkages to South Korean contemporary culture. A Mainland Chinese woman that has more international than her fellow Mainland Chinese friends, and who imbibes herself into arts. A half-Indonesian, half-Japanese, who studies in a Canadian international school and speaks 7 languages. A half-Swiss, half-Finnish with partial family roots in South Africa and is currently in Stanford. Indonesians with 1% to 10% Dutch roots. Tunisians that toppled their own government in the Arab Spring. This excludes people of very different personalities. Ultra-tough nerds spending time mostly in their own rooms. An Indonesian friend coping with her mental illness while working hard on her startups. An Indonesian friend who loves metal music. A quirky Indonesian woman who loves arts and robotics and loves to randomly draw flowers on one’s research papers and randomly spams one’s Whatsapp account. Party animals, who love being drunk and partying until the bars are all closed. Work-hard-play-harder corporate world-aspiring girls. An anti-social person who fakes laughter amid all his personal struggle in his university life. One who loves blabbering about his experiences having sex with strangers. Conservative, very religious Christians who frequently asked me to join in their gathering sessions. Hipsters who love arts. Globally-minded travelers. Some friends who like to share manga jokes, many of which can be perverted. A French-Swedish woman who occasionally smokes and listens to French classical music, but is fun to talk to. A Mexican roommate who only wears black T-shirts, and who only has black T-shirts, and who spends over 50% of his time in laboratories. A young American from Montana, studying in Texas as the first place he’s out of his state, and making Asia the first place he’s outside the US, and who falls in love with Korean indie music. The first Indian student to enroll in Science program, when most people are either in business or engineering. An aspiring Indonesian wildlife activist who spent his gap semester in a jungle. A roommate who loves to talk about investments. An Indonesian senior who was very humorous, but also very introverted, and who is now pursuing a PhD. Another Indonesian senior who always scored almost perfect GPA score, but is also very religious and committed to his long-distance relationship. Dank meme-loving Indians. Cultural ignoramus, etc. Some are absolutely cultural shocks, but I also gradually embrace them as I let my mind increasingly open.

I gradually cope with these struggles, but coping itself has always been easier said than done. At certain points, sometimes one may wonder whether ‘being open’ itself was ‘too much’ to bear. But I understand that the values having been inculcated at me in the last 18 years are strong, and oftentimes it will take a gradual process of acceptance in moderating my own values vis-à-vis theirs.

In my first year of study, I participated in a university-supported student development program known as “Redbird Award Program”. This was my first exposure to extracurricular activities outside my hometown, and outside the context of near-similar activities by which I have participated during my high school. There I got to know some of the first people that I have described above. Some of the workshops were pretty monotonous, but the most challenging thing was the ‘wild camp’ training that they organized. It was a 3-day, 2-night camping activity in a country park in Hong Kong, and there, we had to scout through different peaks, walk through rocky trails, and occasionally climbed through some of the rocks in the peaks. Albeit I have asthma, I did not want this disease to affect my overall activities. Accepting that as a challenge, I participated in the camping activity.

The next challenging thing was to initiate a student-led project as part of the ‘graduation requirement’ from this program. I was initially running out of ideas, until I got a sudden flash of inspiration from Humans of New York. (thanks, Brandon Stanton!) There, I began to pitch the idea of “Humans of HKUST” to some friends, and thus this project began. Together with 2 Indonesian and 1 Malaysian friends, as well as several other volunteers, we started to interview people, made portraits of them, using our pot-luck equipment. None of us had high-resolution cameras, therefore we only relied on our own smartphones.

As time goes by, I gradually adjusted my life here in HKUST, and in Hong Kong in particular. I learned to navigate various MTR stations on my own, visited my aunt, my cousin, and my uncle once in a month on my own, and learned to act fast. Tapping Octopus cards, paying with cash, strolling fast, arranging my weekly schedule on my own, learning some basic Cantonese, getting to know which public buses to take, doing weekly laundries, cleaning my dorm room, moving items to another dormitory, all the while managing assignments, papers, and projects, sometimes group-, sometimes individual-based.

Simultaneously, following my seniors’ recommendations, I began to actively participate in research. I once aspired to be a novelist, having made 12 failed attempts to complete 12 different novels in various genres. I tried fantasy based on Lord of the Rings trilogy, science fiction based on Star Wars, as well as social critique works based on contemporary issues from various non-fiction books I have read. I was actually very happy when – on my 13th attempt – I eventually succeeded to complete a novel. But it was a violent work of fiction. I was inspired by a World Press Photo-winning work about portrait of a Danish prostitute, who is also a single mother who needs to take care of her three daughters. The 13th novel, pretty much, with different settings and refined plot, was inspired on this portrait. But I decided to put my work in shelf for an indefinite period, now starting to focus on academic research instead.

My first research project, beginning in July 2014, was about China-Africa economic relations with Professor Barry Sautman, by which I was tasked to create a database of Chinese companies across African countries, as well as their workforce localization rate. In the end, I managed to create data entries for more than 800 Chinese companies across the continent, an uneasy task. From this project onward, I undertook further research commitments in various other projects. The second one – beginning in 2015 – was about democratic development across the world, this time with Professor Sing Ming. But we rarely had face-to-face meetings, and we mostly exchanged our correspondence through email messages. Still, the project had to go on, as different professors have different ways of communication. First, I was assigned to do a case study about Thailand, but afterwards, I was asked to do a comparative analysis of Malaysia and Venezuela. The third one – commencing in 2016 – was a self-initiated independent study research project about One Belt, One Road initiative, with Prof. Barry Sautman as my advisor. The project, to be quite honest, was already as vague as the initiative itself: so much sloganeering, we truly don’t know what the initiative essentially is. Still, I managed to create a self-compiled dataset of over 900 Chinese-led infrastructure projects (in both China and in OBOR countries), although I have no idea – at all – how accurate they were in terms of their alignment with the initiative. Lastly, this year in 2017, I undertook another research project about anti-corruption campaign in China under Xi Jinping, this time with a newly recruited faculty member, Professor Franziska Keller. I created another dataset of over 300 officials having been removed under the campaign, as well as their replacements. Looking back to 2014, I actually never expected – at all – the pathway that would lead me to these projects, from one to another. My original dream of becoming novelist is now completely set aside, as I made peace with the existing reality, and now develop my new interests in academic research. Still, in spite of these 4 different research projects, I have yet to manage to publish a single work in an academic journal. And, guess what? I gradually took the bitter pills of rejection when my papers were either rejected by think tanks I submitted to, or when my professors pointed out flaws with the databases I have curated. They are bitter pills, but I fully understand the tough reality of academic world: no matter how meticulous your research is, there will always be loopholes with our work, and thus, grounds for rejection. I read no less than 90 academic papers for the China-Africa links project, 30 papers for case study about Thailand, close to 50 papers for comparative studies of Malaysia and Venezuela, over 20 papers about One Belt One Road initiative, and almost 20 papers about anti-corruption campaign in China. At least I am personally proud I have read those papers, although it took quite a toll at me.

Research projects, in one way, are a method for myself to strengthen my academic CVs, and to a certain extent, a way to cope with cultural-related shocks that are still lingering for myself, and to reduce a fluctuating sense of loneliness. Reading papers and books enriched my knowledge significantly, as well as improved my understanding of a research framework for an academic paper; moreover, research projects made me preoccupied for my already hectic schedule. Occasionally, however, I was bored with constantly reviewing academic papers, but if I stopped reading the papers, sometimes I would feel uneasy with myself, especially the recurrence of “wasting own time, doing nothing” mindset.

Studying in HKUST meant a high expectation, entailing everybody to ‘get busy in almost everything’, from non-trivial matters to so-called ‘world-changing’ research projects. Most faculty members have at least more than 1 research project to manage individually, and there is a constant pressure among the faculty of a ‘publish or perish’ culture. Because after all, research output is what accounts for HKUST’s high ranking among QS (Quacquarelli Symonds) and THE (Times Higher Education). Students would also be challenged to get busy in various activities, be it student clubs (locals refer to them as “societies”), seeking  internships, creating startups, joining sports teams, or getting involved in on-campus jobs, joining Robotics, community service projects, part-time research assistants, doing global health projects, etc. For me personally, for 4 years in my life, I think I have spent 50-80 hours every week doing stuff related to the university, ranging from extracurricular activities (Redbird, and then one of my friends’ art-appreciation club), research projects, reading course materials, writing course papers, conducting literature reviews, and leading other independent projects (such as Humans of HKUST).

Writing this makes me look like a typical student ambassador. But I want to be honest here. It is a good thing to be involved in so many activities, and personally, having my life undergoing this pathway has provided me with numerous valuable benefits for my personal development. Nonetheless, simultaneously, such approach has its own costs. I often perceive that relationships become superficial as everyone is so committed in numerous projects and activities, so much so that the degree of interaction remains shallow and constrained to student-related discussions only. I may have known a tremendous number of new friends while in the university, but if I have to be very honest, our relationship is quite shallow, mostly limited to “hi-how are you-bye” conversations. That is why in my first year I was not involved in many activities, mostly limited to Redbird Award Program, writing my own novel, coordinating with others for Humans of HKUST project, and absurdly enough, signing up for iGEM – a synthetic biology competition (which has nothing to do with my major), and lastly, helping to organize a one-week cultural exchange program for international students in June 2014. Moreover, sometimes I continued to wonder about what true friendships are, given what I perceive as a superficial nature of a large part of my relationships, and the “impostor syndrome” that is quite obvious among a large number of my friends and acquaintances.

Still, I can not deny the fact that I have managed to befriend a large number of brilliant and insightful minds in this university. Individuals, whose ideas and values I would have never preconceived of had I stayed in my hometown for the rest of my life. Someone who’s very keen into startups, having failed twice, and still very resilient. A self-taught programmer who also indulges in deep, philosophical discussions. Someone who truly showed me what ‘art appreciation’ is. Someone who introduced to me dank memes (and how I end up liking a lot of dank meme pages these days). Someone from my major whom – for the first time in my UG life – I could deeply relate with, given her deep interests in international relations. Someone who shared with me his experiences of participating in a mass protest to topple an authoritarian government. Some persons who showed me their research progress from various fields. A professor who has lived in Mao-era China and witnessed – in his own eyes – Tiananmen protests in 1989. Getting to know Jewish professors for the first time (all the while shattering my prior stereotypes of them). These, I would say, are not superficial relationships; I truly get to know them not only on their surfaces, but also to understand their real values within their hearts.

And one way to maintain my constant communication with some of these new friends (except faculty members) would be to create a chat group in Whatsapp, which I simply titled “Hangout!”. I first started the chat group in February 2015, as I was about to celebrate the first Chinese New Year outside my hometown. At first sight, my original aim of creating this chat group was only to organize the first Chinese New Year dinner. I did not have expectation, in that earliest moment, that this group would continue to exist. It was only after that dinner that I decided to continue using the chat group to organize other hangout activities. Moreover, I was proud that the group has so many people from multiple backgrounds and interesting personalities. That was the first moment when I felt so internationally-minded; moreover, my objective of this chat group was relatively straightforward: I just want to be as inclusive as possible, at least for some of the persons within the group to never feel lonely. I have felt moments of loneliness for the first two years of my study, therefore I simply hope that the chat group can become a ‘safe haven’, especially some of my close friends who also shared the similar feelings of loneliness.

But perhaps my mistake was that I had been too inclusive that I arbitrarily added people into the group, so much so that it became a bubble of its own. As time goes by, the group size grew significantly. Indeed, it grew too large, from a group of 12 people (all of whom were in the very first hangout) to, at one point, over 84 individuals, most of whom hardly ever know each other. Many of them have since left the chat group. In a Chinese proverb, one would literally translate it as “people mountain, people sea” (renshan renhai 人山人海). For me, it was more like “people come, people go”. Many have left, but since then, many new friends of mine have also joined the group. I learned that moment that expanding the chat group too rapidly was a fatal mistake: I was adding too many people into the group, so much so, that at one point I was left to wonder whether the group ‘Hangout!’ is losing its essence.

A caricature of Hangout! group, as drawn by one of my close friends, Christine


Despite my personal disappointment at one point, I still stay in the group. Indeed, the fact that I will soon pursue a two-year research postgraduate program in HKUST gives me another chance to organize more hangouts with people within that group. I am still hoping that this chat group can once again become a ‘safe haven’, in particular, for people who are craving for friendships, so that they can join future hangouts that I want to organize for, at least, the next two years.

After some thought, I would even say that with the presence of this group, I have had some of the most cherishing years in my university life. It is the same people within the group that I can freely share my ideas, insight, imagination, thoughts, and in turn, to know and understand even better people of various backgrounds. It is not necessarily the hangouts themselves per se that always gave me encouragement; it is my friends within that group, and even those who have left, that my life becomes more slightly more colorful. All this would not have been imaginable had I chosen to continue staying within the comfortable confines of my own hometown.

To recap, here are some of the moments that made myself proud of having ever studied in HKUST:

  • Initiating Humans of HKUST project: originally just thinking of it as a ‘one-off’ project in order to graduate from Redbird Award Program, the project ends up spanning for more than 3 years already, now entering its fourth year with the recruitment of a new project management team. Since the release of the first photograph book in 2015 together, each of the successive teams has also managed to get another book published every year (in both 2016 and 2017), each of which contains interviews and portraits of various individuals working and studying in the university
  • Participating in SIGHT program: the program truly opened my eye about the essence of multidiscplinary cooperation. It also challenges me to go beyond the context of my academic study: without any proper programming background, I was tasked to perform user-experience (UX) research and user-interface (UI) designs for mobile health program for our healthcare NGO partner in Cambodia, One-2-One. I ended up designing over 60 different UI designs for the mHealth program for the coding team, all of which I used only pencils and A4 paper sheets. That was also where I began to learn and apply the concepts of design thinking
  • Hangout!: I created the group in February 2015, originally just to organize a Chinese New Year dinner. Since then, we have organized more than 20 different hangouts. It’s never a perfect group (we now more frequently share dank memes and talk random stuff), but I would say I’m glad the group continues to exist
  • Getting Dean’s Lists for 5 times in the university, by which, thankfully, I could get scholarships to partially cover the tuition fees, as well as to reduce my parents’ financial burden
  • Earning some salaries, for the first time, from working in various research projects, as well as doing other on-campus internships
  • Having the opportunities to befriend people of numerous backgrounds
  • Developing appreciation of artworks, and experimenting myself by listening to different genres of indie music (beyond the pop-culture mainstream music)

Beyond the moments that made me proud, I have also undergone through multiple ‘failures’ throughout the same period:

  • I have yet to fully exercise my emotional restraints when under intense pressure, especially in group projects, or whenever I was jokingly teased out by some of my friends
  • I have had crush on 4 female friends, but none of them materialized into a relationship. For now, I’m putting my relationship efforts on hold
  • Getting rejected by all the universities in the US I have applied for PhD in Political Science. I applied into 9 schools, and all of them ended up rejecting my PhD applications. At one point, I was rejected by Cornell, Stanford, and MIT on the same day. But I was not disastrously disappointed either: I was aware that my admission chances were really slim, but at least I have done my best. Moreover, I would rather see the failures as some kind of ‘divine intervention’, because deep down my heart, even if I succeed to receive and accept a PhD offer, I absolutely have no idea about my mental readiness about the future challenges that I may have encountered in relation to that PhD program. As an alternative, I actually received Master’s offers from NYU and U.Chicago. NYU did not offer me any single scholarship, and University of Chicago offered me a 50% scholarship, but even with the 50% ‘discount’, my parents would still be unable to support my studies. I ended up rejecting their offers, and accept my offer for a research postgraduate program in HKUST instead
  • Having my papers rejected for publication or even consideration into academic journals, despite extensive literature reviews
  • I was rejected for multiple scholarship programs that I had applied. What hurt me even more was the typical, unsympathetic reply from the university staff, who simply wrote that “I should try even harder”, when I have spent like 50-80 hours per week doing university-related assignments and projects
  • I have yet to learn to be fully forgiving of others and forgiving of myself of past mistakes
  • I failed to maintain a work-life balance. Instead, for now I have ended up adhering to “work-life integration”

And then the things that I did not regret:

  • My major: occasionally I used to question the efficacy of my Global China Studies major, but through gradually accepting my uniqueness, and all the valuable learning that I have attained in this program, I would say that I did not regret enrolling in this major. Indeed, it enriches my research interests, and it increases my knowledge significantly. Moreover, a human being is more than what others would impose an academic label on: I do not want to be associated solely with my major alone
  • Trying new things and fail: one example was enrolling in Entrepreneurship minor offered by the university. I took some minor courses, but instead, the course grades ended up depleting my CGA consecutively for two semesters. I had to maintain my CGA in order to continue my eligibility for annual scholarships, and in order to ‘salvage’ the grades, I decided to quit the minor program. However, I have never had a single regret doing the minor program, and neither have I regretted quitting it
  • Studying in HKUST: despite my initial culture shocks and struggles to assimilate myself with this university, I eventually ended up enjoying my university life here. Despite the constant pressure and challenges related to courses, projects, exams, research projects, and papers, this is also the place where I began to understand what a “true friendship” means to me
  • Not doing an exchange program: the reason why I did not do an exchange program was primarily because of the ongoing ‘culture shock’ that I still partially experience in the university, even after almost 4 years. Instead, I made use of all 8 semesters by getting myself as much engaged in research projects and other activities as possible

And then the things I regret, and I wish I had changed my mindset earlier:

  • I wish I had exercised patience earlier in almost any aspect
  • I wish I had captured more opportunities to do travel. Indeed, I had foregone too many opportunities throughout my undergraduate life to travel, mostly for various ‘reasons’, like doing papers, unexpected expenses, and numerous other factors
  • I wish I had attained a better work-life balance. Although I have had Hangout! group, I actually do not organize many hangouts. Many places, even in Hong Kong, are left unexplored. Indeed, I mostly divide my time between classes, meetings, library, and my own dorm room. Reflecting back at what I have done, I actually regretted not spending more time with friends and visiting other places across Hong Kong, or even doing travels abroad
  • I wish I could learn to fully trust people. I occasionally have moments of paranoia, and sometimes, I can be easily suspicious of others, even on the strangers. Now I regret that I have placed too much mistrust on people; I wish I exercised better self-control over my own mind

Lastly, my own advice for friends who have yet to graduate, or who will soon be in universities, especially into HKUST:

  • Seek opportunities elsewhere: and it’s entirely up to you whether you want to pursue as many opportunities as you can (if you can manage with adequate time), or you would rather be more selective
  • Explore new places: even if you are not really fond of overseas traveling, at least places within our vicinity (say, within the city, or any other geographic locale, where the university is located) can be a good start. Regardless of all the pressure imposed by courses and projects, do not allow them to wreck our work-life balance
  • Keep oneself open-minded: having been raised and undergone through pretty much the same cultures and values for the 18 years of my life, I found it a big struggle when it comes to adapting to such an outside-a-comfort-zone studying experience. The only key thing I can suggest is to keep ourselves open-minded, and appreciate others’ cultures and customs
  • Appreciate our parents’ sacrifice: in most circumstances, it is our parents who have funded our university education, and I can not thank my parents enough for the huge sacrifices they have made in order to support my studies in HKUST, so much so that they need to exercise fiscal austerity to save enough money. That ‘pressure’, to some extent, also pushed me to work very hard in order to attain enough scholarships to partially cover my tuition fees
  • Be honest with oneself: we do not have to be someone else to make other people like us. Just be as authentic as we always are, but if there are bad habits and/or bad traits, do make efforts to address these issues
  • It’s okay to sometimes cry: living overseas has never been easy. Sometimes pressure is so huge that we occasionally do not know to whom we can share our grievances. I would say, it’s normal to express our emotions, even if we need to shed our tears occasionally

Wrapping up this blog post, I want to convey my deepest appreciation for anyone who has become my friends, my close friends, my best friends, and those who have given me constant encouragement and powered me with enough resilience throughout my studies in this university. I also want to deeply thank my aunt, my cousin, my uncle, and in particular, my parents and my younger brother, all of whom have given me a tremendous mental support and a source of comfort.

Let me close this post with a quote by Paul Bowles for one of his works (The Sheltering Sky), which became an inspiration for Japanese musician Ryuichi Sakamoto to craft a musical piece – title: fullmoon, in his album Async (2017) – in honor of the American author.

Because we don’t know when we will die,

We get to think of life as an inexhaustible well.

Yet everything happens only for a certain number of times,

A very small one, really.

How many more times will you remember,

A certain afternoon in your childhood?

Some afternoon, that is so deeply a part of your being,

That you can’t even conceive a life without it

How many times, four or five times more,

Perhaps none even left,

How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps 20.

And yet it all seems so limitless.”

Globalization and education: how much have things changed?

I was inspired – or honestly speaking, ‘triggered’ – to write this blog post in response to an op-ed post by Justin Fox in Bloomberg View about, as the title says, ‘who will get spillovers when US universities begin to lose out’. The author provided a brief overview of how Swiss universities can – at least temporarily – ‘pick up the cherries’ when Donald Trump administration’s future policies will pose challenges to the ongoing dominance of US universities. However, as constrained in terms of wording and space as the op-ed post is, the author only provided a brief comparison of both American and Swiss universities, citing presidents of the latter’s two universities (ETH Zurich and University of Zurich), who were both US-educated and had experiences working in the States.

What particularly motivated me to write this blog post was the university ranking index used by Fox in his op-ed article. Using the Shanghai-based Academic Ranking of World Universities (ARWU), which heavily emphasizes on measuring university-based research output and quality, I observed in details about changes in the ranking of universities across the world. As Fox had previously argued, as of 2016, US universities remain ‘the envy of the world’, with 15 out of the world’s best 20 and 50 out of the world’s best 100 universities based in the country. However, in spite of the ongoing dominance, this figure has showed a gradual decline from previously 17 and 54 back in 2007, or nearly a decade prior. Most of the universities that remain within the best hundred are private, bestowed with huge amounts of endowment, either from big corporations or rich alumni networks. Majority of the country’s public universities, on the other hand, continue to ‘stagnate’ due to cutbacks in expenditure and lack of research funding support.

On the other hand, universities across the Asia-Pacific region have shown a strong increase in rankings within the last decade, the largest driver by which is from China. With the exception of Japan, many countries here – in general – have seen a tremendous improvement with regard to the university rankings, mostly due to huge investments in the universities, but to some extent, also due to the declining position of several universities in the Western region, namely in North America and Europe. Here, I did a bit of research to compare and contrast the representation of regions in terms of their top educational institutions between 2007 and 2016, using the ARWU index.

The increasing mobility of capital, talents, and ideas has been particularly beneficial to Asia-Pacific region, as many top universities here seek to globalize their education outlook by hiring either US-educated or European-educated faculty members into their universities, as well as increasing collaboration with other counterparts across the region and the globe. Americas and Europe, on the other hand, have seen the numbers significantly decline, especially the former.

Let us look at the ‘top 20’ composition in the table below.

Within the last 10 years, US universities continue to dominate the top 20 ARWU list, although there was a slight decline due to increasing competition from institutions from other countries (as we can see from above, UK and Switzerland). However, the race to completely ‘drive out’ the existing education superpower remains a very long road to go – or, should I say, an implausible notion up to now; schools like Harvard, Stanford, Yale, and MIT continue to receive massive amounts of endowments, attract top-notch talents across the globe, and their global influence in many aspects (Nobel laureates, startup unicorns, research funding, huge alumni network support) remains unmatched with those in the rest of the world, and expect this to continue for decades to come.

The pattern remains pretty much unchanged when we expand the list into the ‘top 100’, as shown in another table below this sentence.

Within one decade, universities in Asia-Pacific (namely Australia, China, and Singapore) and in Western Europe (Belgium, Denmark, Netherlands, and Switzerland) began to take a small-yet-significant portion of the “top 100” ARWU list. Japan was an ‘exception’ when compared to most Asian countries, as its pattern largely echoed that of the United States; there was a significant decline in the number of top-notch universities, and when we looked further into the next two tables below – especially in the top 500, Japan’s decline is even more dramatic.

Caveat: you suspect Japan’s decline is because the ranking index is crafted from China (an arch-rival)? Not necessarily.

Expanding the list further to the top 200, I found out that the gap between countries experiencing increase and those facing decline is becoming increasingly larger.

With regard to the increase, China has experienced the biggest increase in the number of top-200 institutions, with a six-fold increase within a decade (2 in 2007 to 12 in 2016). Saudi Arabia, surprisingly, also has 2 universities within the top-200 list (from previously 0 in 2007); this may be largely thanks to the kingdom’s extremely large amount of endowments, and the existence of King Abdullah University of Science & Technology (KAUST, not to be confused with South Korea’s KAIST). South Korea has also seen its number tripling, from 1 in 2007 to 3 in 2016.

Unfortunately, the biggest “loser” in this list is once again the United States. Having 88 universities in the top-200 list in 2007, the number has since declined significantly to 71 last year. The impact of 2008-2009 financial crisis is particularly severe for public universities, and it remains reflected in the number of the institutions per se.

Lastly, let us take a final look at the ‘top-500’ list, as seen in the table attached below.

The biggest increase, once again, predominantly took place in Asia-Pacific countries, with countries that are particularly outstanding include China (a net increase of 29), Australia (a net increase of 6), Saudi Arabia (from 0 to 4), Malaysia (from 0 to 3), South Korea (8 to 11), and Iran (o to 2).

By contrast, the biggest ‘losers’ here were the United States and Japan; US has seen a net decrease of 29 universities (from 166 in 2007 to 137 in 2016), but an even more dramatic decline was in Japan, with a net loss of over half of its universities of 2007 level (from 33 that year to 16 last year, a net decrease of 17 schools, a total decline rate above 50% of its original level).

Here are several country-specific findings with regard to the ARWU ranking index:

  • China: increase in the number of Chinese universities in the top 500 list can be attributed to active efforts by Chinese government to attract overseas Chinese talents to shift research and/or other academic works back to China. However, there are a few caveats with regard to this finding worth cautioning. First, many of the overseas talents that ‘return’ to China retain their jobs overseas; this leads to the second point, by which a large proportion of them only work in the country as ‘visiting professors’, ‘visiting researchers’, or scholars employed on a work-contract basis. Do also note that many of the Chinese students aspire to go abroad to study, the most popular destination by which remains the United States. Refer to a working paper by David Zweig and Huiyao Wang (2012) about efforts by Chinese government to recruit overseas Chinese talents, as well as findings by Institute of International Education (IIE) about the composition of international students in the US.
  • United States: Cutbacks in public funding for public universities has largely declined within the last decade, regardless of whoever is in the presidency (be it Bush Jr., Obama, or even Trump). On the other hand, endowments to private universities, particularly top-notch ones, continue to increase (except on 2016 fiscal year, by which most universities show a significant decline). Still, several public universities continue to show strong performance within the same time period, such as UC Berkeley, UC Los Angeles (UCLA), UC San Diego (UCSD), University of Colorado – Boulder, UT Austin, Ohio State University (OSU), Pennsylvania State University (PSU), University of Minnesota, etc.
  • Japan: the country, ironically, is in a rather “sorry state” in terms of its relative performance compared to other countries in Asia. Although Japanese universities continue to churn out innovations and remains dominant in terms of number of Nobel laureates, this shows no impact on the improvement of the universities within ARWU list. One reason, according to Times Higher Education and Japanese education consulting firm Benesse, is the high degree of insularity among Japanese universities: resistance to opening-up under globalization and the limited interaction between Japanese scholars and academic communities across the globe may help explain why the stagnation continues.
  • South Korea: the country continues to ‘shine’ in terms of its research output and technological innovation, and is increasingly active in pioneering international collaboration between Korean and other universities across the globe, with a particular emphasis on Asia and the United States. However, as economic growth slows down, many university graduates have simultaneously struggled to find jobs in the country, particularly as the economy remains dominated by large-scale business holdings (chaebol), and entrepreneurial culture has yet to fully challenge the former’s influence.
  • Saudi Arabia: on one hand, it is a good thing to have some universities within the top-500 list (4 institutions), but their contribution to structural reforms within the country remains notoriously inadequate. Unemployment rate among the youth remains staggeringly high (around 30%), opportunities for social and economic mobility remain largely closed for minority groups (especially female), and the country continues to primarily rely on foreign expertise for academic and research activities (one example? Simply look at faculty list for King Abdullah University of Science & Technology).
  • Malaysia: the country showed up on the ‘top-500’ list, but it continues to struggle in reversing the brain drain, by which Malaysia has been among the worst affected countries. Low wages for prospective graduates, as well as ‘positive-discrimination’ approaches by the government that continues to favor majority ethnic Malays in university admissions, are two factors that continue to push Malaysian talents to pursue education overseas. This is made all the worse with the ongoing currency depreciation it has faced in the last 2 years. Many of my Malaysian friends also share such experiences with me regarding their motivations in studying abroad.
  • Indonesia: none of the universities in my home country appeared in the list up to now. Although this is only in ARWU index, the fact that no institutions show up is such a disappointment.

Conclusion: while the United States continues to remain dominant with regard to their education system, and is expected to remain preeminent for decades to come, its primacy is gradually being challenged with the rise of universities outside North America, particularly in the Asia-Pacific region. With globalization, the increasing mobility of talents, capital, and ideas across the globe will enable such educational spillover to continue taking place worldwide, especially with US-educated graduates either working in the States or taking up their career opportunities back in their home countries. It is also the same wave of globalization that will continue to motivate the best and the brightest across the world to come to US – and now an increasing number of alternatives in Western Europe and Asia – to pursue higher education. The monopoly remains largely concentrated in the Western world, but other regions (most importantly, Asia) are challenging up their domination.

Bonus: Times Higher Education releases what it calls 53 ‘international powerhouse’ universities, or those with very high research output and citation scores that can match the existing ‘superpowers’ like Ivy League schools or Oxbridge. It is not necessarily ‘global’, however, as 45 of these ‘powerhouses’ are still concentrated in the Western region (31 in North America, 14 in Europe), with the other 8 located in Asia-Pacific region. You can view the full list of these universities in the picture below.

Summary of the 53 universities based on countries they are located:


Shocking: nobody passes the university test in Liberia




Liberia has, for a decade, recovered from the affliction it incurred in the past civil wars. Under the steel-handed leadership of Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf – also the only female head of state in Africa – she has focused on stability, elimination of corruption, economic growth, and continuous promotion of investment, the record of which drew almost 16 billion US$, mostly from US corporate giants, a few years prior. Nevertheless, some huge problems remain the sticking points for the country’s progress, namely severe poverty among the populace, inefficient bureaucracy, corrupt and often disorganized administration, and the worst of all, is the low (very, very low, indeed) educational quality bulk of its people possess.

For the first time in the history – and probably in any of the nation-state’s historical timelines – nobody, out of 25,000 students, passes the university admission test, a basic prerequisite that even most of the youth can hardly afford. And one blogger even questions their ‘hidden intelligence’: is nobody there smart enough to cheat???

Hint: almost nobody understands English, the medium of instruction in the examination.

Read the report either in Global Voices Online or in BBC World News.


President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, a Nobel peace laureate, recently acknowledged that the education system was still “in a mess”, and much needed to be done to improve it. 

Many schools lack basic education material and teachers are poorly qualified, reports the BBC’s Jonathan Paye-Layleh from the capital, Monrovia.

However, this is the first time that every single student who wrote the exam for a fee of $25 (£16) has failed, our reporter says.

It means that the overcrowded university will not have any new first-year students when it reopens next month for the academic year.



Dropping out: is it a wise choice?

Go to a college, work hard and play hard for three or four years, earn a degree, and get to work. Yes, that’s undeniably a normal facet in our lives, a spell-binding ‘must-do’ habitude that has long rooted in most of the societies in the last century. Either we ourselves or our parents – to a further extent, our distant relatives, uncles, aunties, grandparents, cousins, and whatsoever familial names you can make – have never ceased pursuing these goals, with all the audacity that we can afford to make great accomplishments suited for the curriculum vitae we are going to submit to these future employers.
It turns out the world is becoming increasingly uneasy for university graduates to secure a permanent job.
In a life process either before or after graduation – something that is intensely fast-paced, cut-throat, and savagely competitive, we are all demanded to secure great scores – or mention the least, good-enough remarks – to fill our resumes. We come and go by lectures after lectures. We have to learn to be independent. We have to adjust everything anew to our long-in-our-comfort-zone minds. We have to make new friends, leaving our families, or probably, childhood pals behind. And we realize maturing up is not something we have always imagined in our childhood.
There are some people who have this strong feeling about dropping out of universities or colleges: they are out of the blue startled to realize they are unhappy with the courses they are taking; that those ‘inner voices’, unceasingly coercing them to discover their ‘true passions’, or to ‘shed a new light in their real lanterns’; or that the ‘new friends’ are not thoroughly the ideal friends they are supposed to be. Then they face two similarly uneasy choices: either you proceed the studies you abhor so much no matter how well-qualified the lecturers are, or you face humiliation from your family, the discreet disappointment in the faces of your parents. That you choose not to live in accordance to what the societies demand, that everybody surrounding you thinks you are insane.
Or there are other segments of the societies who choose to cope with the entire hindrances facing them, attempting to re-adjust their mindsets, how they assume society and the reality themselves, and find themselves fully transformed, out of their Euclidean comfort zones, but with the consequences, possibly, of ‘losing their inner identities’, of getting lost in this vastless world.
Either you choose to drop-out or to carry on, remember one thing: it is, in the end, no more than Pascal’s wager. Either you win all, or you get nothing. There are myriad graduates, who, even with the curriculum vitae overwhelmed with achievements and awards, may still end up getting unemployed. There are even more myriad drop-outs who can, in their worst luck, end up homeless and need to hinge on government’s social security schemes to stay alive.
But there are also university graduates who eventually succeed in their careers and have happy families afterwards. Or drop-outs – if, and only if, you have immensely well-crafted talents like Bill Gates or Lawrence Ellison or Sergey Brin or Larry Page – who end up becoming billionaires. The truth is: either you choose to proceed to colleges or not to, it has little to do with our careers. In the end, everybody, as Stanley Kubrick once said, needs to shed light for oneself.
Two essays here present the pros and cons of dropping out from universities/colleges. Click the links to read more.