Educating the Young

        There was this M A level course ‘principles of Chinese culture’ offered by the City University of Hong Kong.  To make sure that students from up north could enjoy the same benefit, the Department made it a two-semester event, having the Cantonese session in the first semester, and the Mandarin one in the second.  All things considered, it cannot be said to be inconsiderate.

      A few students from across the border enrolled in the first session, then demanded the session be converted into Mandarin speaking; for, they claimed, they could not understand Cantonese.  Some local students disagreed, and a row erupted.  It was the Dean who intervened and settled the dispute.  Whether he handled the situation with a prudent measure is not my concern here; what interests me is the education phenomenon in front of us.

      It is not just an institutional phenomenon because it involves how our students conduct themselves, or deeper yet, it shows how we have trained our youth.  One reason they provided was that using Cantonese as the medium of instruction discriminated against them.  Is it true?  Under the circumstances, giving a double offering seems reasonable enough.  The discrimination argument does not seem to be persuasive to most.

      Another one, which they believed had more substance, goes something like this.  To graduate in summer, you need to complete all requirements by the end of the second semester.  So, you’d free up all possible time slots to fill in what you need to carry in the last term.  To make it easy for yourself, you’d try to get rid of ‘all other stuff’ by the end of the first.  That certainly benefits the person planning to leave school soon, but it causes all kinds of inconvenience to others.  In most cases, universities usually do not modify their set procedures only to make it easy for the few.

      And if that be labelled discriminatory, we may well ask: What is non-discrimination then?  Should the institution cancel all her Cantonese sessions and convert them all into Mandarin ones?  Would that be reasonable? (We are of course discussing as a matter of principle, not on the status of any linguistic form.) Would that be advantageous to the majority who do not speak Mandarin?

      Shortly after the incident, there were debates between the netizens themselves.  A university friend from Guangzhou sent me a note with this comment: When in Rome, do as the Romans do.  A cliché?  Yes.  It makes sense, does it not?  The question is: I’m sure those guys understood this well; so why didn’t they follow through?  That, my friend believes, comes from a superiority complex, a sense of arrogance as it were.  That arrogance, that special-privilege attitude, she says, is nurtured by a social atmosphere prevalent in many places in China today.  People become egotistic, very self-centred, have no regards for others’ concerns and feelings.

      If we care to look further, we see the similar phenomenon happening not just on campus, but outside of it; not just in Hong Kong, but almost everywhere in the world.  One of those students was interviewed afterwards, at which occasion he said he should have more privilege because he paid a higher fee than his local classmates.  I wonder what he would have said had he entered a state college in the US, say, UCLA, without being able to pay in-state.

      Comparing with the ‘Roman’ idiom, the Chinese parallel actually goes one step more.  It says literally like this: when you enter a village, you follow the custom (i.e. mores) of the villagers; when you enter a place, you beware of the taboos of the place.  And that has been a part of the social teaching for God knows how long.  It has not changed despite all the upheavals, all the revolutions, all the comings and goings of dynasties.  Now, apparently, we are not educating our youngsters as we should be, we have failed to train them a very basic tenet in social living.  No need to look afar, just look at how our young people behave here, and we can see we can’t really laugh at others.

      It may do our parents and teachers some good if they really reflect on this.

The Making of a University President

      In his 2010 Inaugural Address, the Vice Chancellor of the Chinese University of Hong Kong made us face squarely the facts almost unspoken of by our administrators.  The message in a nutshell is the following: it is resource (funding) and not our curiosity of knowledge that lures us to research.  It is institutional ranking they care about, not a mission to cultivate the young souls.  The rewards for professors are based on their ‘productivity’, not their scholarship.  For such trend to continue, we will only manufacture money-minded students, not responsible citizens who, whilst taking their own stance, are tolerant and open to others, with a sympathetic heart.  We will lose our imagination and creativity; our scientific research will not carry humanistic concerns; critical thinking will fade away.  Gradually we will lose sight of our educational values altogether.

    Such words of warning, coming as they are from a leader of a university, we have not heard for a very long time.  The fact that he could honestly preach them had, no doubt, a lot to do with his own long-time service and observations; but he gave special credit also to his reading habit, not as a professional, but as a person.  And he had revealed this in a recent interview.     

   As a young boy, he loved to read martial art fictions.  During high school, he read reference works; outside reading as we say.  Medical school was too heavy for him to do leisure reading.  However there was an episode that must have left him with an imprint for the rest of his life.  He was doing research in Canada.  Frequently he joined the classmates for coffee breaks.  From Astronomy to Zoology, he found them talking about a wide range of topics.  At one time these physicians were discussing about the French Revolution and he felt totally left out.  ‘The best part of the conversation is the dialogue after dessert,’ he said.  A clear lesson emerged: educated people should be knowledgeable people, not just specialists in their own narrow areas.

      People around him often talked about books, or themes around books, not money.  He observed people organising book clubs, not gambling groups, or stock-betting circles.  Looking back at life in Hong Kong, he said that was a ‘big contrast’.

      Then he developed an interest in reading biographies, especially in great orations by people like MLKing, JFKennedy, MGandhi, WChurchill, etc.  These were well-known heavy readers themselves.  He felt sad as he found from a survey that university students did not care about reading.  In the commencement speech last year, he emphasised broad reading, urging students to read books unrelated to their major fields, unrelated to their grades.  He wanted them to read about humanity, about civilisations, about history, about anything.  That was a way we could know more about the world around us, about ourselves.

      Regarding those parents who were too eager to exert pressure on their children to make money, he showed his misgivings.  Young people should have their own dreams, whatever those are.  Life begins when you go for your dream, not when you go after money.  He was not against making money; he just felt that young people should be allowed to shoot for their own goals first.

      What is an ideal university like, then?  He did not explicitly say.  What he did say was, an ideal university should give us young people who could really exercise their independent thinking as well as their critical judgement.  We may well ask ourselves whether our universities are successfully producing these, or even pursuing them.

      And we may well ask: How far are our higher learning institutions encouraging--not paying lip service--the students to read?

Broad reading is key to cultivating young minds

(This article first appeared in the South China Morning Post print edition on Nov 15, 2013)

In his 2010 inaugural address as vice-chancellor of Chinese University, Joseph Sung Jao-yiu, made us face some facts that aren't generally discussed by higher-education administrators.

The message in a nutshell: it is resource funding, not our curiosity or thirst for knowledge, that drives us to research. Too much emphasis is placed on institutional rankings, rather than on cultivating young souls. And rewards for professors are based on their "productivity", not their scholarship.

If this trend continues, Sung says, it would serve only to manufacture money-minded students, not responsible citizens, who, while taking their own stance, are tolerant and open to others and have a compassionate heart. We would also become less imaginative and creative, our scientific research won't carry humanistic concerns, and critical thinking will fade away. We will gradually lose sight of all our education values. Such words of warning have not been heard for a long time from a university leader. The fact that he could honestly preach them had, undoubtedly, a lot to do with his own long service and observations; but he also gave special credit to his reading habits.

In a recent interview with Books4You Magazine, Sung said he loved reading fictional martial arts stories as a child. In high school, he read reference works - "outside reading". Medical school was too intense for him to do leisure reading. However, one moment when he was conducting research in Canada had a profound impact on his life. He says he would frequently join classmates for coffee breaks, and he found them discussing a wide range of topics - from astronomy to zoology. One day, his fellow physicians were discussing the French Revolution, and he felt left out. "The best part of the conversation is the dialogue after dessert," he said.

The lesson was clear: educated people should be knowledgeable, and not just specialists in their own fields.

People around him often talked about books or their themes, not money. He saw book clubs, not gambling groups or stock-betting circles. Looking back at life in Hong Kong, he says this was a "big contrast".

Then he developed an interest in reading biographies, including those of Martin Luther King Jnr, John F. Kennedy, Mahatma Gandhi and Winston Churchill.

Sung was saddened to learn from a survey that many university students did not care about reading. In last year's commencement speech, he urged students to read books unrelated to their grades or majors. He wants them to read about humanity, civilisations, history, anything. In this way, we can learn more about the world around us and about ourselves.

Regarding some parents who pressure their children to make money, he had misgivings. Young people should have their own dreams, whatever they are. Life begins when you pursue your dreams, not when you go after money. He was not against making money; he just felt that young people should be allowed to shoot for their own goals first.

So what is an ideal university like? He said an ideal university should give us young people who can truly exercise their independent thinking, as well as their critical judgment. We may well ask ourselves whether our universities are successfully producing these, or even pursuing them.

And we may well ask: how much are higher learning institutions encouraging their students to read?

Best lessons in life start at an early age

(This article first appeared in the South China Morning Post print edition on Oct 21, 2013)

It is often said that Hong Kong parents have one common worry: they don't want their children to "lose at the starting point".

As teachers, parents and as a society, we push youngsters to take extra lessons, to join the scouts, learn the piano or take swimming lessons.

We care mainly about schools with a reputable name and do not work to cultivate proper habits or good character. No wonder some observers have suggested Hong Kong has fallen behind.

But you won't truly understand what it means to fall behind until you observe what a quality education looks like.

The following is what a teacher and his primary school class experienced when they visited a Japanese primary school - and not a "famous" school, at that.

Entering the cafeteria, the teacher sees a group of students, dressed like nurses, holding buckets full of clean trays, milk bottles, chopsticks and spoons. All are primary school age.

The routine is that one class is selected each day to help in the kitchen, setting tables and carrying utensils.

When the dining tables are set, the students sit on one side and wait for their visitors to be seated. No one holds up their chopsticks.

The visitors sit facing their hosts so they can talk and build friendships. No one shouts, no one screams and no one runs around the cafeteria.

Everyone has the same meal. They eat a simple lunch of rice, vegetables, a few pieces of meat, and soup and each have a bottle of milk with a lid tied on with string, and the students help open their friend's bottle. The paper lid and plastic string are placed into two containers for recycling. Being taught to look after the environment begins early.

A nearby group starts playing rock-paper-scissors. The winners share the milk that has not been consumed.

The teacher looks around and sees that most of the students have finished their food, although his class has not.

When the Japanese pupils take their trays back to a collection point, the teacher notices the milk bottles are lying flat on the tray. One child says that way, the empty bottle won't fall off.

The leftovers and kitchen waste are collected, and the chopsticks and plates are left in their assigned place. As children get up to leave, a few grab small towels and clean up. The others carry the buckets of empty bottles and trays back to the kitchen.

Everyone moves smoothly and orderly, without much noise, highlighting their good manners. The pupils are not told what to do; presumably they are used to the routine.

It is a demonstration of what "all for one and one for all" means. It is group life, mutual help, good habits and manners, all in one.

If Hong Kong's students are to compete, the starting point is not at the university gate, it is early in life.

In the long run, it is not about if children can spell correctly or perform arithmetic quickly. It is about their habits and character.

If Hong Kong can't do as well as the Japanese students in this column, then we have already lost the race - at the starting point.

The lesson university skipped

(This article first appeared in the South China Morning Post print edition on Sep 30, 2013)

Just how tough are our university students? A recent survey conducted jointly by social enterprise Solution on Wheels and charity Wu Zhi Qiao (Bridge to China) found that of 1,000 people interviewed (118 of whom were undergraduates), only 7.5 per cent thought students could tolerate being reprimanded and only 9.5 per cent felt young people could deal with boredom.

Vincent Wong, CEO of Solution on Wheels, suggests such scepticism might be due to the public's higher expectation of university graduates. He believes graduates would cope better with both issues once they found employment.

Eric Chan, a medical student who participated in the project, says: "Students need to face reality, as making mistakes at work is far more serious than in school."

The report also said that young people should not expect sudden riches after graduating.

While the survey may not have been entirely scientific, and the sample may have been small, its findings do seem to fit the common perceptions in society of young people. The question is why do these persist?

Certainly, in a civilised community we expect citizens to treat each other with proper respect, regardless of seniority. But, unfortunately, the fact remains that in a workplace those offering advice are not always entirely courteous.

However, shouldn't we expect this? When I entered the job market, my generation was prepared for the toughness of real life, and we took it as something we had to learn about - a necessary part of growing up. And, in most cases, we did not take that personally.

In his book, The World is Flat, Thomas Friedman describes how in a world where outsourcing is the norm, employees are often expected to work long hours. Furthermore, with multinational corporations everywhere, being transferred overseas for work is also common practice.

And who has to be told this?

Unless you get lucky and find yourself a job you enjoy - and such roles are rare - you are bound to find your job not very exciting or rewarding.

A university is a place of higher learning; it is not a model of your future workplace. We never dreamed that once we left the campus, we would walk straight into a rose garden.

We were rightly told there was no rose garden awaiting us. We were taught that we should work hard, save hard, and struggle our way through in sweat and tears.

So the question we, as a community, have to ask is why the current generation of young university graduates is so fragile. How have they come to be so vulnerable? Surely, as the world is getting more competitive, our young citizens ought to be tougher, not weaker.

Maybe we should reflect on our way of raising children nowadays. The overprotected young are not sturdy enough to face the harsh reality of the modern workplace.

The primary school, the secondary school and the home front are the formative places for young people - not university campuses.

No easy solution to language barrier facing minorities

(This article first appeared in the South China Morning Post print edition on Aug 26, 2013)

In the second half of the 19th century, the Hong Kong government began to bring in labour from other parts of the British empire.

They recruited people from British India, including what is now Pakistan and Bangledesh, as well as Ceylon (now Sri Lanka). They also brought in people from Malaya, mostly of Indian origin. Many of them joined the local constabulary; others were working as house servants, guards and the like.

Quite a few of them acquired British citizenship and they they eventually settled in Britain. But many did not; they were left behind after July 1997. That presented a dilemma for those who had been living in a sort of self-created enclave. Going back to their native land does not seem like an easy choice. What about staying here without a desire to be integrated into Chinese society? That's not a pretty option either.

For one thing, the local populace does not really care. They are not hostile, but they maintain a kind of "live and let live" attitude where you have to survive on your own.

Certainly, that is not a problem if you have money or speak English well, or manage to climb the social ladder. But what if you are not a person of means? What if you need to keep yourself afloat, just like the rest of us?

To survive, you need knowledge of the Chinese language. This is why, a few weeks ago, the headmistress of a local Islamic high school, voiced her concerns in a newspaper. According to her, minorities cannot get into the Civil Service Bureau because of the language requirement. (She did not mention the private sector.)

Another problem, she says, is minorities are usually advised to take the International General Certificate of Secondary Education (IGCSE) or General Certificate of Education (GCE) Chinese-language exams. But the IGCSE and the GCE are only equivalent to Form Three and Primary Six levels respectively, not to mention the course content does not deal with the society they need to understand. Besides, the link between primary and secondary schools is not smooth for them, creating a headache when there are different levels within a class.

Her solution? Writing a new set of learning materials for minorities that would fit their needs. When they have to take the public exams, make it a Form Three level, not a Form Six level, for all of them.

Years ago, a Portuguese person from Macau could come to study in our middle schools, take French as a second language (English being the first, of course) and sit for our Hong Kong Certificate of Education Examination. She did not have to take Chinese at all.

Today, if you enrol in an international school, you don't need to take Form Six-level Chinese. Can this be applied to our minorities? I do not know.

I agree with the headmistress when she expresses the worry that unless the "Chinese question" can somehow be resolved, there's no real future for most of them. But even if her ideas are adopted, it won't solve the problem.

Universities may be willing to take you in on an IGCSE score despite your poor Chinese-language skills, just as they admit foreigners who know not a word of Chinese. But unless you find a job that requires little Chinese skills, the prospects are not bright.

This is an issue that our education authorities have to think hard about

Duty to protect student rights must come first

(This article first appeared in the South China Morning Post print edition on Jul 29, 2013)

Not long ago, a member of the Executive Council who is also a former vice-chancellor of a local university, met a few other incumbent vice-chancellors for a chat. He raised the issue of theft, pointing at the criminal nature of the act of stealing, and asked them whether they would protect any of their students if they had committed such an act.

Then he drew an analogy: if you found out your students had joined the Occupy Central movement, you should not have helped them since it was illegal. The lesson is simple: you should not help them, just as you would not help thieves who had stolen your property.

In the eyes of the law the act of joining the Occupy movement is an offence; whether it is criminal in nature is debatable. Even if it were, how a free and tolerant society should deal with it is still arguable. Protesters and thieves are not in the same category. It is questionable whether the analogy even holds up.

I am not interested in arguing the nature of the case from a philosophical standpoint, and you could make a moral case for theft under some special circumstances. What I am interested in is how educational institutions might deal with this in the present context.

We can look at this issue from different angles. During the Vietnam war there were campus protests across North America in public and private schools alike. At times, the students' actions were not entirely orderly - they occupied buildings and boycotted classes, among other things. Was the military draft legal at the time? Yes. Was the conduct of the students lawful? No. Yet, except for a few incidents which turned violent, the police were never called in. The only tragedy took place at Kent State University where the National Guard opened fire on unarmed students.

If we don't want to look at cases in far-off lands, let us look at China. Many have heard of the May Fourth Movement when, on May 4, 1919, close to 5,000 students from various Peking universities demonstrated on the streets. After a brief confrontation with the police, 32 students, mostly from Peking University, were arrested.

Upon receiving the news, Cai Yuanpei, the legendary president of Peking University, announced in the college auditorium that it was his responsibility to rescue those students. On the fifth, the authorities sought to kick out all the "troublemakers" from their respective campuses.

Fourteen university presidents headed by Cai took collective responsibility by submitting their resignations. A huge public outcry erupted across the country and, on the seventh, all students were released.

Cai was not the only one. In the 1930s, Mei Yi-qi was president of Tsinghua University. In February, 1936, after some student unrest incidents, police moved into the campus and rounded up some 20 students.

Mei, who opposed students participating in political activities, came out to rescue them, in his own words "to safeguard independence and university integrity".

In both cases, the students did commit "offences". They did something, at least according to the then government, that was unlawful. The presidents felt obligated to protect them.

For our case, there is something ironic, too. Shortly after that meeting, a few of those VCs stood up to proclaim their duty to safeguard students' right to freedom of expression. The one who conspicuously missed the event is the VC of the very same university from which the Exco member came.

On a different occasion, he also remarked that, as leader of a university, he'd do his best to protect the rights and safety of his students.

On Selecting a President

(This article first appeared in the South China Morning Post print edition on Jul 1, 2013 with title "The big man on campus who isn't")

It was a ‘colourful’ event. Lingnan’ University was to select a new president, and the university council held a consultative meeting at which councillors were to choose a candidate. They endorsed Mr. Leonard Cheng in the face of student opposition. It was dramatic indeed. Behind all that noise, however, we should calm down, look at the facts, and ask ourselves some soul-searching questions. After all, it’s a university in our midst.

From statements of both sides where the public could well see, we may reflect on some issues that concern us all. Perhaps a note on American practice is in order. When an American takes up the presidency of a university, it’s a well-known ritual that he would give a speech to the university community. He would present his vision and his leadership that he believes could bring the school one step higher up, as we say. As president of the university, he is his own man, he takes orders from no one, not even the US president. If institutional independence and academic freedom mean anything, they mean at least this.

The president-designate of Lingnan, Mr. Cheng, said at the event that the Central authorities were not his boss, but Mr. Bernard Chan, the council chairman, was. That was on the record. Whether Mr. Chan has had experience in higher learning, or is familiar with university operation, and so on, is immaterial here. The point is whether the president—any president—of a university should have a boss, or claim to have one. Mr. Cheng is a business professor, he knows very well what people understand to be a ‘boss’. To say that you are my boss is to say that at the end, you call the shots. For an institute of higher learning, if the president cannot be his own boss, the institute’s independence is compromised. If it be said that he didn’t quite mean it, he was only saying that half-jokingly so to speak. Well, people could question his decency and intelligence. That was not an occasion for cracking jokes, was it?

As for the students, they didn’t do it quite properly either. If we look at how other (i.e. foreign) universities select a president, we’ll very likely find that, representatives of the student union are not allowed in the board of governors (or trustees) meeting. Even when they are, they have no say in the selecting of a president, or any university official for that matter. Administration is not the students’ business. Unless there is evidence that the board is illegitimate, otherwise why should an 18 or 20 year-old youngster assume that he/she is wiser, more mature, and more experienced than any member of the board?

For one thing, the candidate’s political views should not be an issue. The question is only whether he can honestly and effectively execute the terms of office that are required of him. In a free society, everyone has a right to decide on what politics he adopts. You can blame him for poor performance as the head person—that remains to be seen, you can’t blame him for his ideology. You cannot rationally assume his ideology must interfere with his office.

Universal value should be upheld, and justice and democracy are part of that value. Yes. But do democratic principles apply everywhere, regardless? If democracy be the trumping value in this case, why not have the whole university community come together to select a president? We don’t need any board or council, just let all students vote to choose. Is that rational? Should a college dean be chosen thus? Should a department head be selected by students and not by departmental colleagues? Should students decide on whom to hire whenever there is a professorship to be filled?

There is, of course, the ‘stakeholders’ question. And the stakeholder is the person involved in the matter, or whose interests are ‘at stake’, as it were. Let’s say, we have a family of 5, the parents and 3 kids. The parents want to take the kids to try different kinds of food. The kids vote for McDonald’s. Every time. All 5 are stakeholders. Is it rational to go by the vote? Your grandmother is to hold a birthday party. The whole clan of over 30 persons is invited. All have to participate and eat at the dinner, so all are stakeholders. Do they vote to decide on where grandma’s party is to be held, or does grandma decide herself?

What Is Liberal Education Anyway?

The term studia humanitatis may be unfamiliar to most people.  What about artes liberalis, the mediaeval name for liberal arts?  At least it ‘looks’ familiar.  It means the arts (i.e. learning) that were appropriate for a free man (in the classical Greek sense: a man who is not a slave).  That is the opposite of artes mechanicae, a vocational training that prepared young men to become weavers, blacksmiths, nevigators, etc.  At the time, the liberal arts were not aiming at gaining a livelihood but for further study of law, theology, and medicine.

       If that is not modern enough, we may go to Webster’s Third.  Under the heading of Liberal Arts, it says ‘of, belonging to, or befitting a man of free birth, also, of, belonging to, or befitting one that is a gentleman in social rank.’  If that did not suffice, try another entry: ‘the studies especially in a college or a university, that are presumed to provide chiefly general knowledge and to develop the general intellectual capacities…as opposed to professional, vocational or technical studies.’  That should give any common-sense person a general idea on what liberal arts education is and what it is not.

       Perhaps the staunchest advocate for liberal education in America before the mid-20^th century was Robert M. Hutchins, former president of the University of Chicago.  The world got to know about the ‘Great Books Project’ under his leadership as well as that of Mortimer Adler, an editor of the Encyclopaedia Britannica.  For Hutchins, liberal, from liberalis (from which the English word liberty is derived), means free; so liberal education is a ‘free education’, or ‘an education that can set you free.’  If the question is: Free from what?  His reply is: Free from ignorance.  So the most succinct statement of liberal education is:  it is an education that sets you free from ignorance.  How can we achieve that?  We learn from the past experience and wisdom of the great minds of over 2,000 years in history.  Hence the ‘Great Books’.

       Why is liberal education not widely publicized, if it is such a good thing?  Very little has been written about those institutions and their programmes, especially in this part of the world.  Perhaps it is because they are small in size and number; perhaps their commitment to college (i.e. undergraduate) teaching is not in the main stream; perhaps research laboratories, prestigious professional and graduate schools, famous scholars are all at well-known universities; perhaps most of us only care for the big names: Harvard, Princeton, Berkeley, and know little if at all about Williams, Swarthmore, Pomona.  Given our exposure or the lack thereof, and our faith in the marketability of ‘big-name graduates’, no wonder we do not know what we have missed.

       So what is a liberal arts college like?  In one stroke Hugh Hawkins, retired professor from Amherst—one of the best colleges in that category—describes thus, ‘a four-year institution of higher education, focusing its attention on candidates for the B. A. degree who are generally between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one, an institution resistant to highly specific vocational preparation and insisting on a considerable breadth of studies…[that hopes to develop] interests and capabilities that will enrich both the individual learner and future communities.’

       From this brief introduction, we may gather a few common characteristics among liberal education institutions.  They are small, residential, not located in urban area for the most part.  They devote themselves primarily to the education of the undergraduates.  They usually have a small student body; as a result, students get to know each other and faculty members inside as well as outside of the classroom.  Because classes are small, and because instruction is mostly provided by professors themselves, and not by teaching assistants, frequent interaction between students, between students and teachers, is a normal state of affairs.

       That environment, and the learning atmosphere it creates, can hardly be found in big universities with huge campuses.  

               

       If we understand what liberal arts education really is, and are honest with ourselves, then we have to say there is nothing like that in our higher education today.  The fact that everybody uses the phrase 'liberal education' all the time does not mean we have it.  All nations on earth claim they have a rule of law in their legal systems.   Do they?  Not only do we not have that kind of training, our universities have shown no sign of any aspiration towards that lofty goal.  Lingnan was set up to be one.  It did not make it.   Ask her former vice chancellor, who has just retired.

       With this, we may investigate further to see what is so unique about these institutions.

Roots of liberal studies

This article first appeared in the South China Morning Post print edition on Apr 29, 2013 as "June 4 raises liberal studies issue".

The liberal studies exam in this year's Hong Kong Diploma of Secondary Education examination, under way until early next month, contained the previously taboo topic of the June 4 crackdown in Tiananmen Square. It caught some by surprise. But then, a sense of bewilderment surrounded the whole idea of liberal education.

"How can liberal education be a course?" was a question many of us raised years ago. Isn't it a way of learning? A way of training? A thing that belongs to college (meaning undergraduate) education? How is it to be defined, anyway?

These are legitimate questions, and I do not propose to deal with them in one column. But I believe they are important to the future of this community, so I'll try to explain. But first, let me clarify the "state of confusion" we are facing today.

Part of the problem stems from the very term "liberal education" and its Chinese translation. The University of Hong Kong has a lib ed department and calls it tongshi in Putonghua. At Chinese University, the tong shi department is called "general education" in English. At the University of Science and Technology, they don't have a department, only a few electives taken as tongshi. At Lingnan University, the lib ed programme is called by a different, but appropriate name - boya. In Taiwan, it's called tongshi, but on the mainland, the term most often used is suzhi (literally, quality education).

Each university, therefore, has its own approach, and although each is doing its best under the present system, it's far from desirable. Lib ed is being defined arbitrarily because there is no consensus on what it is. What's more, it also tells us - so it seems - that most of us, including those in the higher education sector, don't know what lib ed really is. It's hard to blame them, though. Just a few decades ago, we had never heard of such a term.

Even after we have borrowed the concept from American higher education, we pay it only lip service. The phrase tongshi is high sounding, but the people who started these programmes at our colleges never received proper lib ed training themselves.

To have a better understanding of what it truly is, let's go back further to the roots of the story.

Modern liberal education, known as liberal arts education in the United States, is an American phenomenon, though its heritage comes from the Renaissance of 15th-century Europe. To bypass learning institutions controlled by the Roman Catholic church, secular scholars in Italy created studia humanitatis, which is Latin for the studies of human knowledge. The subjects were rhetoric, history, mathematics and astronomy, logic and philosophy, and Latin. For the next five centuries, knowledge of those subjects was the basis to judge whether a person was cultivated.

But classical culture was also involved, as people believed the works of philosophers Aristotle (ancient Greece) and Cicero (ancient Rome) were vital, as that's how one learned to read and write, and to have morality and wisdom. That's how they nurtured a people with "liberal" learning.

是因為背了

(載〈蘋果日報〉2013年04月08日論壇版)

日前，與出版社總編輯共膳。席間，談起他準備進幼稚園的兒子，在家中怎樣輕鬆地背誦唐詩。有沒有唸口簧成分？也許有。但何妨？我們小時候讀「三字經」，「千字文」，何曾明解？還不是日後才「反芻」，重新咀嚼的？如果幼時不記下，一天長大了，希望吐出重新理解，也辦不到的。

今天，不少父母認為，你要我的小孩背書，即是要他們「死記」，沒有教他們理解。讀書應該明理，不該死記。那是假定了背誦是囫圇吞棗，不經咀嚼的。使老師強制學生背書，又不給他們講解課文，那是老師的失職。很難想像，這是一般老師的作法。從「岳飛字鵬舉」到「臣本布衣躬耕於南陽」，有哪一課是老師不解課文的？

多年來，不少家長跟我說，他們不擔心兒女考試，卻不明白為什麼辭彙那麼貧乏，成語典故無法信手拿來，應用在作文上。我問：又不要背書，又不看課外書，終日與機為伍，你能怎樣？都無以對。

記得當年學文學導論，一位本科教授引經據典，莎翁十四行詩背出，那流利，那鏗鏘悅耳，教大家五體投地，佩服極了。後來他告我們，功力，是練出來的；能出口成文，因為他年輕時參加演劇，諸多詩文妙句，都靠牢記。不背何來？

有外國學成回來的教授，說詩人萬中無一，你要的資料，網上找尋十分便利，隨手一翻就到，何必浪費時間背誦？那是假設了千百年來的經典文章，詩詞歌賦，就像統計用的資料，只須查找，不必記憶的。

可文化傳承，尤其豐厚的文化傳統，並不是機械營運。一個社會，要百姓具有最起碼的運用和鑑賞能力，使他們有最基本的文化素養，就不能把活的遺產看作「一批資料」而已。

還有。背誦，不只能使人記得牢，更可使人明白文字韻律之美。就是最簡單的唐詩元曲，得琅琅上口，感覺全不一樣。你能背出馬致遠的《秋思》，你就知道什麼叫詩畫。中國文字音樂感特別強。不訓練背誦，怎樣捕捉它？

最愛用的例子，是「床前明月光」。告年輕同學：我給上句，你接下句，接對有獎。說「床前明月光」。差不多全班都爭着舉手，因為都接得上。我問：你何以接得上？然後人人明白。

是因為背了。

Edward Chen's liberal arts dream is still alive

(Printed on South China Morning Post, 1 April 2013)

More than a decade ago, Professor Edward Chen Kwan-yiu was appointed president of Lingnan University. In a press conference, he announced that Lingnan was to be a liberal arts college different from the others locally. Many people in the education field were excited.

Chen has since retired from that position and is now an honorary professor at the University of Hong Kong. He probably didn't achieve his aim at Lingnan, at least in the eyes of those who do not believe in "outcome-based" evaluations to judge performance.

Almost a year and a half ago, Chen wrote a book review in which he not only told us what the author thought, but also what he himself thought.

He used a rhetorical title: "Why should we care about liberal arts education?" To say "why should we care" implies either that we don't care, or we don't care enough. So there's a lot for us to digest.

Structurally speaking, if we want a genuine liberal arts college, then we would have to build a small, residential and highly student-orientated institution.

The distinctive feature of that institution would be an emphasis not on professional/vocational training, but on the teaching and learning process.

That process leans heavily on a teaching-focused approach, which is regarded as more important than the content. Most of our universities today, of course, pay no attention to this.

According to Chen, interaction, interdisciplinary studies, intracurricular activities, and international horizon are the four I's that embody that process. Interactions between students and teachers in the pursuit of knowledge, inside and outside the classroom, are frequent. Student-professor relations are close.

Interdisciplinary courses offered as seminars are important - not just multidisciplinary, but cross-disciplinary. This is possible because class sizes are small and teachers are more dedicated. This is not easy in a large university, where professors work more like manufacturers than devoted nurturers.

In a small residential environment, student activities can be related to the curricula, and thereby provide experiential learning.

Small colleges can also engage students more easily in international exchange.

We can say that Chen's criteria have not been matched by any of our institutions. His dream lives on.

骨肉相殘

(載〈蘋果日報〉2013年03月18日論壇版)

岳南的三部曲巨著，首部是《南渡》。在全書完卷前，他引了一個插曲。香港淪陷日寇手前一天，重慶派專機來，要接走滯港的一批重要人物，包括陳寅恪一家。結果不成事。據說是孔祥熙二小姐闖的禍；詳情到今天仍是個謎。可因為這樣，就牽涉上宋家的兩位姊姊，還有宋家上下人等的通信，又各自的觀點等。

收筆時，作者表示了自己的感慨：因為政見不同，結果幾年後，「大江大海」的來臨，使骨肉相殘。子文靄齡遠走北美，美齡赴台，慶齡留在新朝。隔海互轟；從此不相見。後來的事，大家都看到了：除慶齡外，其他的都客死他鄉。慶齡這位中華民國的國母，給「封」作中華人民共和國的名譽國家主席。歷史實在諷刺。岳君嘆道，遭此難堪下場的，又何止宋家呢！

固然不止宋家。起碼孫夫人蔣夫人沒有拿着手槍，「互射十二碼」，看誰先倒下。

近讀隋唐史，重溫「玄武門之變」。初中生大概都聽過這個名字，雖然內情都不了了。中學老師強調的，是開盛唐帝國的「貞觀之治」，其他的「中國的陰影」，只輕輕帶過。其實不好。呂思勉先生一代史家，可在他著的國史中，一字不提，只說可用《通鑑》作參考，但實情是不傳的。何故？不得而知。

按封建制度下，君位嫡長子繼承，是維持穩定的做法。不然的話，王子人眾，人人都要做太子，就麻煩了。但李世民一早覬覦帝位，已屬不妥。他要奪嫡，引起太子建成的戒心。建成和弟弟元吉聯手，份屬自然；但據史傳，他並無害世民之意。可世民卻聽信謀臣之計，認為不先下手為強，是無法登基的，就狠下了心。

玄武，是長安城北門，禁衞軍所在地。佔玄武，足以控京師。世民買通了守將，騙兄弟入朝。建成聽到風聲的，卻自恃，發覺中計要逃，太遲了。身為太子，給弟弟的伏兵亂箭射死。跟着世民與元吉拉弓互射，元吉也死。兄弟兩人的頭顱，都給割下。那還不止：他們王府中所有子弟，全給誅殺淨盡。

據說，事後世民入見父王（高祖李淵），「號慟良久」。據說，後來他主持祭事，一身白衣，站在城樓上「號哭」。然後「從善如流，知人善任」，把兄弟門下「收歸國有」。

我不知道，他是否我國古代最大的影帝；總在想：假使日後無「貞觀之治」，大家會怎樣評他？威震天下的天克汗？骨肉相殘的劊子手？

Students, not institutions, will improve English classes

(Printed on South China Morning Post with title "It's a Matter of Attitude", 11 March 2013)

Learning English can be a parental obsession, a student's headache and a businessman's opportunity. Adverts strongly hint that Hong Kong students must have English to move ahead, yet the business and education sectors still complain about low standards. Naturally, both the government and the public are concerned.

In his budget speech, Financial Secretary John Tsang Chun-wah announced government plans to set aside HK$480 million for students receiving overseas training in English at college level.

From what we know, these are scholarships for top-notch middle school leavers who, after completing their education abroad, have to commit for two years to working for Hong Kong, presumably teaching English at the secondary level.

The targeted students are those who attend Ivy League schools, "Oxbridge" and other top schools in the English-speaking world. But why must they go to these universities?

Although Yale's English department is arguably the best, going to Yale is costly. There are plenty of other English departments that are good and cost a lot less. And if they need not be English majors, the field of candidates is even wider.

Just because they go to the best schools, does it mean they will bring back the best training? And how effective will this programme be if they teach for two years and shoot for more lucrative jobs after that? If the newly trained teacher commits for two years and then leaves, how much good will it do the school? The remaining English teachers will probably have to take up their "legacy", a task for which they may not be entirely capable.

Despite Hong Kong employers' love of big-name schools, my experience is that you don't need to study with E.B. White at Cornell. It depends on how hard you work, how willing you are to mingle with the locals, and so on. Having gone to a private liberal arts college for four years, and seeing many who went to North America but did not come back a "good English person", I came to the conclusion long ago that it didn't take a big name, but a big attitude, to train yourself.

As for leaving an impact on students or lifting our secondary standard as a whole, it takes a very long time to do that. You can't do it with a handful of starters who might find it hard to fit into our school system.

Come to think of it, it's embarrassing for our local universities; if their English departments were competent, we wouldn't need to send students out for training, would we? Am I being too hard on the government, or am I being cruel to our professors?

通識天王？

(載〈蘋果日報〉2013年03月04日論壇版)

個人不主張學生補習。

我沒有權利阻止旁人。做父母的要送子女到補習社，有他們的自由。總以為，他們多少懂得計算，知利弊所在。這個「以為」，看來錯了。

撇開收費不說。平情而論，有些科目，你確可以有很精明的導師。比如數學。比如物理學。你可以有一些解釋明白、富經驗的教員，採「工多藝熟」、「業精於勤」等辦法，助學員操練。他們搜羅了過去多年的試題，使大家反覆練習，做到熟能生巧。你不能說沒有可能。有些學科，考試範圍歷年相若；要牢記的公式，比我當年的還少。那麼教師拿捏好技巧、記憶方法、可能的變化等，理論上他有可能幫助學生克服困難的。這樣，他們為招徠「顧客」，用「××科天王」自詡，未必全屬謊言。

他們的做法，也不一定跟學習原意相違背；起碼，在某些學科上是這樣。因為，學生應考時，要「解決」問題；他沒有甚麼「創意空間」可發揮，也不必參詳別人的見解。今天的制度下，多數科目不大要求個人意見的。

但不得一概而論。通識科創辦的目的，與上例背道而馳。你要多少有「創意」，要看不同的材料後，用自己的「獨立思考」，有條理去表達見解。你要「解答」問題，不是「解決」問題。你沒有公式可引用。道理上，十人可有十個相異答案，並沒有「模式答案」的。

所以看到「通識」廣告，直搖頭。

某報推出「通識天王」，說可在三小時內，「解構通識科三年課程」，提升寫作技巧。若然，各校大可取消該科矣！這個科，要考學生的「寫作技巧」？

今天的通識科，分六大單元，理論上層面廣泛。「天王」用兩節課，足使你「保命」，並有「通識過來人溫書計劃」。不久前才與教局友人談過，知他們計劃年年試題不一。那很對。如是，「過來人溫書」有何用？那不是扼殺了每個同學的「獨立思考、個人見解」是甚麼？

最後是一串空洞得可怕的東西：「高端思維模式配合框架及內容」，教你「拆題方向」云云。不知是跟誰說的。如果這是寫作技巧，那是中學會考作文都不該及格了。

別見笑，很多家長趨之若鶩呢！

可憐天下父母心。

蛇的啟示

(載〈蘋果日報〉2013年02月18日論壇版)

新年伊始，先向讀者拜個萬福兒。

從小隨父母出外拜年，聽到的都是「恭喜發財」，然後是一串祝賀套語，小孩都要學着說的；是否了解不必考究，反正人人哼同一調子，像標準台詞。

當然，大家互祝發財，是指定動作。多年下來，有多少你祝福過的人真的發了財，不用認真，反正口頭禪就這麼說。兒時少不更事，問爸媽為甚麼一定用「恭喜發財」作起首語，也不得要領。

不知道這是南粵習俗，還是「全國通行」。心理學家會有說法：人通過這種形式來表達某些「願望」。可以想像，以前住在農村的人，富貴人家不多，人人都希望過好一點兒的生活。富裕，不大能靠辛勤力田而來，所以大家都望「橫財就手」。發了財，你才能夠蓋屋買地，光大門楣。有這想法的人，相信不少。固然是推想，應不致太離譜。

可今天，情況不同了。大家已不是要求「改善生活」，而是一味的追求財富，也不需要給自己甚麼理由。有了財富的人，還繼續追，好像不如此就落後於人似的。於是呢，就成了一幅你追我趕的素描。

看看我們的社會。

為了財富，可以身家老本都押下。為了財富，可以除了工作，還是工作；犧牲了健康、朋友、生活，在所不計。為了財富，要兒女進大學首選商科；為此，要用盡辦法進中學名校；為進名校，要……現在嗎，連幼稚園，甚至學前教育的學校，都早作安排。教育的目的，再不是求學與做人，而是為了將來的財富。

也許，蛇來得正好。「蛇王」，是停下來躲躲懶的人。「蛇竇」，是讓人忙裏偷閒稍歇息的地方。也許我們真該停下來，歇一歇，檢討一下自己的生活。

為了更多的財富，盲目押下了自己的一切，值得嗎？不必唱高調，可不見得強迫兒女進商學院，才能教他們自立吧？與其自小安排到大學，何不停下來，和他們喝杯茶，聊聊天，聽聽他們的心聲？我們太多緊張兮兮的家長，擔心子女他日不能「發財」，很早就霸佔了他們的身心，美其名曰「贏在起跑線上」。

但願我們都抱多少蛇的心態，稍稍緩下腳步，不把生活繃得太緊，更不必為了發財而犧牲有素質的生活。把節奏放慢一點兒，也許對整個社會都有好處呢！

不是「通識」

(載〈蘋果日報〉2013年02月04日論壇版)

兩位美國耶穌會大學校長蒞港，發表簡短演說，談博雅教育（Liberal Education）和去貧的關係。過程固然英語對白，與會的都明白，那是甚麼樣的教育─不必繙譯有這個好處。會後再次感到，好些本地學者其實不明所以。

多年前，在這塊園地談高等教育，一開始就稱讚嶺大：他們率先採用「博雅」一名，可惜流傳不廣。大家只叫通識教育，大學中學如是，以為「通識」就是「博雅」。這誤會不太美麗，當稍澄清。

一年多前的九月，雷鼎鳴、練乙錚兩兄分別發表長文，用不同的名字談同一回事。雷兄叫「自由教育」，練兄叫「釋智教育」。兩人同時舉出芝加哥大學，作這類訓練的表表者，備極推崇。雷兄更標出史特勞斯（Leo Strauss）為經典人物，又說我是史公的隔代傳人。既然這樣，就當仁不讓，略抒愚見，以供參考。

前不久，也曾在這裏介紹過「興韋學院」，中國第一所博雅型的大學。他們也用「博雅」，而不是今天國內流行的名字：素質教育。練兄擔心，遇上「難登大雅之堂」的東西，比如說，「不雅」的書本，稱博雅豈不是為難？這未免過慮了。以前D.H.Lawrence的作品，一戰前在英國是禁書，二戰後是經典。我國素有「男不讀紅樓、女不讀西廂」傳統，認為兩書「誨淫」。五四後仍如是。今天呢？更不必說莫言了。可見雅與不雅，沒絕對標準。何況，你不是要生吞活剝，而是教大學生慎思明辨，有美學判斷。那麼知識本身，應該是沒有禁區的。

要雅，先得博，梁任公早有名言，用古人說法，是要「博覽群經」。而「經」，要整本的讀，相互討論，慢慢就可能煶練出「雅」；但不能東一句西一段的「剪裁」來讀。當然，四年時光有限，要追求博雅修養，就不可能用專才訓練形式。也就是說，必須限制主修科目的學時要求，不然你無法分配。練兄說得好：這種教育，絕不是修一兩個學期幾個學時的「通識課」就算。這是博雅教育和通識課程的重大區別。

這麼多年，真正朝博雅宗旨設計的，就我所見，只有耶穌會擬辦的博雅大學。不必期望她是香港的哈佛芝加哥，但任何稍為認識美國諸耶穌會大學的人都知道，他們是如何培育人才的。

除非你覺得，既博且雅的君子，我們社會不需要。

耶穌會辦的大學

(載〈蘋果日報〉2013年01月21日論壇版)

程介明兄發表評論文章，問香港的「高等教育會過度發展嗎」？嘗試說明今後社會的趨勢，是各行各業對學歷的要求，不斷提高，所以對高等教育的發展本身，需求只會增加不會減少。

若然，我們該問：朝甚麼方向發展？如果我們要有更多的大學，那該是怎樣的學府？無獨有偶，在差不多同時，許漢榮君也刊出大文，借用美國公立大學的例子，比對香港的，引為警惕。他擔心大學已經成為「職前培訓」的場所；學生入學，不在求取知識和修養，而是「出路」。

而政府，為了減輕負擔，就把責任推向「市場」：鼓勵成立私立大學。如是，他憂慮大學只會多開設有「市場價值」的課程，結果是給產業界牽着走。先不說政府的動機，是否在「推卸責任」（我自己不那樣看）；把「市場價值」等同「商業考慮」，不太合理。市場需要誠實的人。誠實，是商業還是道德考慮？諸多美國私立大學的本科，根本不設商學院的；他們怎樣運作，也不是政府的責任。

假定像介明兄說的，我們需要更多的學額，但不必由政府主理其事，那讓私人團體辦學，就很合理。當然要知道那是甚麼樣的團體，有何辦學經驗，學術、財務安排各方面是否健全，等等。但這些，基本上是技術問題。

幾年前，政府叫出了「教育產業」的口號，向世界招手，邀請有志辦高等教育的機構，來香港開設私立大學。最近，反對者認為，教育「產業化」，只會把教育弄得庸俗，使學府淪為學店，只顧圖利而對社區沒有貢獻。有些甚至用設在屯門的哈羅作「實例」，說那是給外人來香港賺錢的藉口。

一定如此嗎？那目前的私立大專院校──像珠海、樹仁、能仁等，是否已賺個滿堂紅，把一眾政府資助的院校學生，都搶走了？哈羅是所怎樣的學校，我不知道，不當妄下斷語；縱然她未符某些要求，也只是一所剛開始的中學。

還有，辦學團體世上不少，不可能盡是一丘之貉。也不見得認真教育的人辦學，就會把學校看作「產業」，用經商的手法營運，為要圖利而不顧庸俗的。我們總不當處處以小人之心去度人吧？

耶穌會辦的大學不是那樣的。這我相信。