Reactive Agent

Nobel laureate returns home to stir up a sleepy institution
By Jullan Baum
FAR Eastern Economic Review 84.04.06
Lee Yuan-tseh and his wife sacrificed a comfortable life in their luxury home outside San Francisco, California, a year ago. At the invitation of President Lee Teng-hui,they returned to Taipei's densely populated suburbs to rejoin the society they had left behind three decades earlier. There the president appointed Lee head of Academia Sinica, Taiwan's most prestigious reasearch institution.

"Peopel always asked when they visited me at Berkeley why I agreed to come back to Taiwan, "Lee says, He did trade a big house with an acre of land nestled in the mountains, a graden and swimming pool for a smaller home in a polluted, crowded city. "I told them that if you're thinking about helping other people, it makes you feel good to come back."

In 1963, Lee went aborad to study with his new wife, Wu Jin-li. "In the 1960s, most young people didn't feel there were good opportunities in Taiwan," he explains about his decision to leave. "If you didn't have good connectins, you couldn't get an education or a decent job. The best and brightest went to America."

He settled down at the University of California, where he became a teacher and researcher, and eventually a member of the United States National Academy of Sciences. In 1986, he won the Nobel Prize for chemistary along with two other researchers for their work in understanding elementary chemical reactions. Lee became the only Taiwanese to win such an honour.

Having made the leap back home, Lee is cursading for the return of the diaspora of Taiwanese intelligentsia worldwide. He's already convinced such prominent figures as Harvard palaeontologist Chang Kwang-chih, now Lee's vice-president at the academy, to return, as well as physicist Frank Fang and botanist Yang Shang-fa. He's also set up the Foundation for the Development of Outstanding Fellows. It raised amlost $20 million from business circles to help scholars and scientists to relocate to Taiwan, to teach and conduct research.

"It's very exciting to see after martial law was lifted [in 1987] that this place has become so lively," Lee says. "Although Taiwan still looks chaotic from the outside, with gradual efforts we'll see some results. If you come back to help and try to push things forward, society will respond."

Lee's mandate at the academy is to make Taiwan's research environment more attractive and productive. Hidden in the leafy suburbs of Nangnag, Academia sinica seems remote from the turbulent changes in Taiwan society. The cluster of 21 independent institutes covering mathematics, physical sciences, zoology, biomedical research and social sciences has a reputation as a sleepy sinecure for scholars on the government dole.

(This is not a big revolution, but we'll shake things up a bit) That's changing under Lee's leadership. He has stopped construction of new buildings at the sprawling compound and is earmarking more money for applied research. He's also introduced competitin for research funds and broadened the pool of taient to attract scholars and scientists from around the world.

"We're going to see better programmes promoted at the academy so we won't be so complacent," Lee says about his reforms. "This is not a big revolution, but we'll shake things up a bit."

Although he is a physical scientist by training, the Nobel laureate has a keen interest in society and the economy. Some magazines have even touted Lee as a potential presidential contender. While he disdains such unfounded rumour-mongering, his unorthodox views make him stand out.

"Taiwan has made many mistakes,"he says with his usual directness. "People here boast of the economic miracle, but I try to throw cold water on that and say that their living standards actually haven't improved that much."

In Lee's view, this is where education and human talent can play a role. Recruiting accomplished professionals from abroad to educate a new generation of students will give Taiwan a boost at a crucial stage in its development, he says. "Our society is starting to move, but in what way and what direction depends on which way you push it."

Eventually, Lee would also like to see Academia Sinica assume a role that is included in its charter, but that it has never exercised: advising the government on policy. Despite its prestige and a budget, devoted mostly to research, of some $150 million annually, it has rarely offered the kind of advice the government routinely asks of universities and other think-tanks.

Part of the reason for the academy's low profile is its lack of a resident community of scholars. Most of its 153 scholar-members live abroad, mainly in the U.S. They meet formally once every two years, and stay in touch through the institute's twice-yearly magazine. Notes Lee, wryly: "With only one physicist and one mathematician among our members living here, we can't do very much."

His first year back in Taiwan has been both physically and intellectually challenging. "It's a tough job, a very demanding job, I don't get enough sleep," he says. "I'm trying very hard. I'm giving it five years, then it will be time to decide whether I should continue or go back to the laboratory."