Unless Springer Nature backtracks as Cambridge University Press did in August, it will have to redesign its corporate Web site to add an addendum on several pages: “... unless China does not like it.”
The company on Wednesday admitted that it had removed from its Chinese Web site, at the government’s request, hundreds of articles that touched on issues Beijing is sensitive about: Taiwan, Tibet, Chinese Communist Party (CCP) internal politics and human rights.
Springer Nature’s Web site opens with the declaration: “We advance discovery by publishing robust and insightful research, supporting the development of new areas of knowledge and making ideas and knowledge accessible around the world.”
“We are a global publisher dedicated to providing the best possible service to the whole research community,” it states, adding: “Springer Nature believes ... the free flow of information and ideas is at the heart of advancing discovery.”
The company defended its decision by saying that only 1 percent of its content is now inaccessible in China, with director of communications and engagement Susie Winter adding that the move had been taken “to prevent a much greater impact on our customers and authors.”
Removing the content from its China site was “deeply regrettable,” but it was “not editorial censorship,” she said.
Springer Nature should know better.
The company is this year celebrating 175 years as an academic publisher, tracing its lineage to Julius Springer opening a bookstore-publishing house in Berlin in 1842. The firm should know all too well the cost that comes from a publisher having to self-censor under government pressure, as the then-Springer-Verlag did under the Nazis: having to drop many of its authors, editors, a managing partner and titles.
Some might wonder how a company known for publications like Nature and Scientific American could have material that runs afoul of the CCP’s efforts to sanitize and rewrite Chinese history, but Springer Nature has a large humanities portfolio, having acquired Palgrave Macmillian, Macmillian Education and J.B. Metzler, the 337-year-old house that published Johann Wolfgang Goethe and Rainer Maria Rilke.
Beijing’s effort to get publishers to censor their Chinese sites appears on the surface to be aimed at restricting information from Chinese researchers who read academic journals in English or other languages, rather than the average Chinese.
However, Chinese President Xi Jinping’s (習近平) censorship is in reality aimed at controlling the outside world’s information about China: Foreign academics are likely to be less willing to research, teach or seek to publish on topics that the CCP does not like if it means that they risk not getting visas to visit for research or attend conferences, or find it difficult to have their work published.
Cash-strapped universities around the world have already discovered just what kind of devil’s bargain they signed by agreeing to have Beijing’s Confucius Institutes on their campuses, with the resulting pressure on other academics, or by admitting Chinese students who prove intolerant of the appearance of speakers or lecturers on Beijing’s enemies list, such as the Dalai Lama.
The repercussions of falling afoul of China’s censorship authorities should be something that Taiwanese academics unhappy with their pay or career tracks in this nation think about as Chinese universities step up their recruiting drives with offers of high salaries.
What if the next demand is not to just to remove “sensitive materials” from platforms in China, but any Chinese-language platform?
Xi’s willingness to ignore borders, geographical or otherwise, as part of his censorship campaign was made clear with the kidnapping in 2015 of five men who worked with a Hong Kong publishing house and bookstore, and by the detention of Taiwanese human rights advocate Lee Ming-che (李明哲) earlier this year.
Foreign companies big and small have for decades chased the “great China market,” only to discover it is a creature as mythical as a chimera. Publishers such as Cambridge and Springer Nature might fear losing out on the Chinese market, but the truth is that it is China that cannot afford to lose them.
The gutting of Voice of America (VOA) and Radio Free Asia (RFA) by US President Donald Trump’s administration poses a serious threat to the global voice of freedom, particularly for those living under authoritarian regimes such as China. The US — hailed as the model of liberal democracy — has the moral responsibility to uphold the values it champions. In undermining these institutions, the US risks diminishing its “soft power,” a pivotal pillar of its global influence. VOA Tibetan and RFA Tibetan played an enormous role in promoting the strong image of the US in and outside Tibet. On VOA Tibetan,
On a quiet lane in Taipei’s central Daan District (大安), an otherwise unremarkable high-rise is marked by a police guard and a tawdry A4 printout from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs indicating an “embassy area.” Keen observers would see the emblem of the Holy See, one of Taiwan’s 12 so-called “diplomatic allies.” Unlike Taipei’s other embassies and quasi-consulates, no national flag flies there, nor is there a plaque indicating what country’s embassy this is. Visitors hoping to sign a condolence book for the late Pope Francis would instead have to visit the Italian Trade Office, adjacent to Taipei 101. The death of
By now, most of Taiwan has heard Taipei Mayor Chiang Wan-an’s (蔣萬安) threats to initiate a vote of no confidence against the Cabinet. His rationale is that the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP)-led government’s investigation into alleged signature forgery in the Chinese Nationalist Party’s (KMT) recall campaign constitutes “political persecution.” I sincerely hope he goes through with it. The opposition currently holds a majority in the Legislative Yuan, so the initiation of a no-confidence motion and its passage should be entirely within reach. If Chiang truly believes that the government is overreaching, abusing its power and targeting political opponents — then
As the highest elected official in the nation’s capital, Taipei Mayor Chiang Wan-an (蔣萬安) is the Chinese Nationalist Party’s (KMT) candidate-in-waiting for a presidential bid. With the exception of Taichung Mayor Lu Shiow-yen (盧秀燕), Chiang is the most likely KMT figure to take over the mantle of the party leadership. All the other usual suspects, from Legislative Speaker Han Kuo-yu (韓國瑜) to New Taipei City Mayor Hou You-yi (侯友宜) to KMT Chairman Eric Chu (朱立倫) have already been rejected at the ballot box. Given such high expectations, Chiang should be demonstrating resolve, calm-headedness and political wisdom in how he faces tough