After two months of investigation, a Seoul National University panel confirmed in its final report that South Korean cloning pioneer Hwang Woo-suk's two scientific papers presenting key "accomplishments" in human cloning, both published in Science magazine, were found to have been fabricated.
After the evidence of faking stem cell research, Hwang now faces a criminal investigation. Meanwhile, there have been reports saying that despite the scandal, Hwang can still count on the backing of many of his hard-core supporters and others who are reluctant to accept the downfall of a national icon. Over a short period of two months, South Korea has faced the unprecedented challenge of losing a scientist of great potential as well as a national hero. But who should really take responsibility for this scandal? Was it the result of a failure of the peer review process in the scientific community, or merely Hwang's individual wrongdoing?
This is hardly the first time that the scientific community has been wracked by scandal. But it is unusual to see a scandal give rise to such passionate and polarized responses. Over many years, the scientific community has been striving to establish mechanisms for monitoring professional ethics and replicating experiments, and boosting peer reviews and other gatekeeping measures. But there have been studies showing that scientific fraud is far from uncommon, even when it involves highly-respected journals such as Science and Nature.
There are many motivations for scientists to risk it all to publish a fabricated paper, including time pressures, funding restraints and insufficient peer review before presenting papers. No matter the reasons, they cannot explain the "Hwang Woo-suk phenomenon." The key is that Hwang was not simply a scientist, but also had a status as a national hero. Viewed in this way, we can understand why this incident came as a big shock to Koreans and generated such a polarized reaction in South Korean society.
According to some news reports, Koreans took great pride in Hwang's pioneering work in stem cell research. Hwang's childhood was very difficult since his family was poor, but he had the determination to fight and achieve his academic goals. In fact, Hwang's experience reflects the national fate and historical development of South Korea.
Following its recovery from the 1997 Asian financial crisis, South Korea not only revitalized itself but also scored world-class achievements in car manufacturing, IT products, and film and television.
South Korea's scientific breakthrough therefore came as no surprise. Hwang claimed to have cloned a cow in 1999 and a pig in 2002. He shot to worldwide fame in 2004 when he claimed to have cloned the first human embryos and extracted stem cells from them. This supposed achievement made him a star of the scientific world and a national hero.
For scientists, the prospect of becoming a national hero exercises a fatal attraction. To serve the nation through science has been the goal of many leading intellectuals in developing countries. But when a scientist does become a national hero, then he or she is most at risk of becoming corrupt.
The making of a national hero is the result of projection by a kind of collective nationalist emotion. A national hero provides the common people with a cheap and strong type of psychological satisfaction, which reduces them to a state of numbness. As a result, their expectation that only success is tolerable contradicts the spirit of trial and error in scientific thinking.
Since allegations of Hwang's wrongdoing surfaced, many Koreans have raised the question: Why would a national hero do such a thing?
In fact, it was this title that put pressure on Hwang and ultimately ruined his career.
"National hero" is a term commonly used in news headlines in developing countries, and it targets both scientists and athletes. For example, when China's second manned spacecraft Shenzhou VI accomplished its task and returned to earth, the astronauts were hailed as national heroes. Argentine football idol Diego Maradona -- who used the so-called "hand of God" to score a goal in the controversial 1986 World Cup quarterfinal against England -- was also regarded as a national hero.
The talk of national hero reflects a collective emotional state in the general public in developing countries and it shows a nation's hope for recognition from the international community. Given South Korea's goal of winning such recognition, it likes to boast about its success, especially its rapid growth.
The media in Taiwan also like to use terms like "the glory of the Chinese people" and "the pride of Taiwan." This kind of language puts incredible pressure on public figures such as US forensics expert Henry Lee (
In contrast, US figures like National Basketball Association player Michael Jordan and professional golfer Tiger Woods are not so identifiable as national heroes in their homeland. Similarly, the US has the highest number of Nobel Prize wining scientists, but these Nobel winners are seldom regarded as national heroes either.
When a nation no longer needs to put such people on a pedestal, it is a sign that it has begun to show real confidence in itself. Therefore, next time, when you see Wang on the pitch, perhaps we can simply sit back and enjoy his display of skill, rather than idolize him as a national hero.
Li Kuang-chun is an associate professor at the Center for General Education at National Central University.
TRANSLATED BY LIN YA-TI
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