The result is a profound knowledge asymmetry that has been overlooked, giving China, where fluency in English and American culture is common, an advantage in understanding its strategic rival.
I took a very well-trodden path to becoming a sinologist. I started studying Chinese in college and went to China every summer to study the language and teach English. After graduation, I was accepted into a doctoral program in political science, and for my thesis, I received a grant from the National Science Foundation and spent several months of fieldwork over three years in Beijing and Hunan province. It was conducted. During one trip, I did a long-term homestay with a Chinese family in Beijing. Only after all these experiences did I feel that I was able to understand something about China, but only within the scope of my narrow field of research at the time, namely China’s legislative system.
This path will either not exist for the next generation of American sinologists, or if it does exist, it will be filled with so many bumps and potholes that it is hardly worth traversing. By most metrics, Chinese studies in the U.S. are on the decline, with fewer American students studying Chinese than before the pandemic and fewer students spending meaningful time in China. It is still decreasing.
Enrollment in university Chinese courses peaked around 2016 and fell by more than 20 percent by 2020, according to data from the Modern Language Association. From 2011 to 2012, 14,887 American college students studied abroad in China. By 2018-2019, that number had decreased to 11,639 schools, and by 2020-2021, to just 382 schools. Some universities have begun to rebuild their programs in China, but the pace is cautious and uncertain.
This sharp decline is partly due to China’s strict implementation of its “zero coronavirus” policy, suspending foreign students and academic exchanges for more than two years. However, now that things have officially reopened, the currency has not recovered much, largely due to concerns about the safety of travel to China. The State Department has issued a Level 3 travel advisory for the country, asking Americans to “reconsider traveling” due to “arbitrary enforcement of local laws, including the risk of travel bans and illegal detention.” Although this assessment is perhaps a bit too pessimistic, it is true that the Chinese government (perhaps unconsciously) is creating the perception that the country is not very welcoming to foreigners. In recent years, we’ve seen the passage of vague and threatening national security laws, the arbitrary detention of two Canadian citizens, a sweeping crackdown on many foreign companies, and Chinese citizens’ suspicions that foreigners could be spies. We have seen constant propaganda campaigns warning against.
The US has not solved the problem. Some calls for “decoupling” from China have advocated policies that would effectively gut the United States’ ability to gain expertise on China in the name of national security. U.S. academics with research projects related to China risk being investigated by the U.S. government or criticized by officials on social media for supporting China’s rise. The Fulbright and Peace Corps programs, whose alumni include some of the nation’s best China experts, were discontinued by the Trump administration. Confucius Institutes, which provided Mandarin language education on many U.S. campuses, have largely been shut down because of their ties to the Chinese government. However, there is no increase in language funding to compensate or an opportunity to make up for the loss.
The U.S. government primarily funds foreign language and area studies through Title VI of the Higher Education Act of 1965. That funding was reduced from $110.3 million in fiscal year 2010 to $68.3 million by fiscal year 2011 and was never replenished. Total funding for 2022 was $71.9 million, with only about 15% going to East Asia-related programming.
Together, these developments pose serious challenges to our nation’s accumulation of expertise on China. I am involved in training the next generation of social scientists with a focus on China. Each year, we screen applicants and recommend admission to a few students who wish to study Chinese domestic politics at the doctoral level at Princeton University. These days, we rarely see applications from American students. At the social science conferences I attend, the majority of the most promising young researchers in Chinese politics are Chinese nationals. While this is a welcome development for the quality of research on China, it does not bode well for the depth of America’s understanding of its strategic competitor.
Compare this to the level of linguistic and cultural fluency in China with the US. Because English education is compulsory and included in university admission, almost all young Chinese people can speak some English, and many become fluent. Approximately 300,000 Chinese students study in the United States annually. The asymmetry is striking.
President Biden and Chinese President Xi Jinping seem committed to stabilizing relations, but it is difficult to find addressable issues on which they can work together. Restructuring academic exchange is an area full of opportunities.
The United States and China should respond vigorously by reviving and expanding the Fulbright and Peace Corps programs in China. Seek assurances for American students and researchers traveling to China. Reduce the pressure on Chinese people traveling to the United States and defuse the absurd narrative that Chinese students and academics are spies. More generously fund Chinese language programs in U.S. universities and high schools, and fund researchers who study China’s military, political system, economy, language, culture, and history.
In this moment of U.S.-China competition, we must do more than invest in weapons and semiconductors. We must invest in understanding.