This one is going to take a hot minute to dissect. Minnesota Public Radio (MPR) has the story.
The plot contours are easy. A PhD student at the University of Minnesota was accused of using AI on a required pre-dissertation exam and removed from the program. He denies that allegation and has sued the school — and one of his professors — for due process violations and defamation respectively.
Starting the case.
The coverage reports that:
all four faculty graders of his exam expressed “significant concerns” that it was not written in his voice. They noted answers that seemed irrelevant or involved subjects not covered in coursework. Two instructors then generated their own responses in ChatGPT to compare against his and submitted those as evidence against Yang. At the resulting disciplinary hearing, Yang says those professors also shared results from AI detection software.
Personally, when I see that four members of the faculty unanimously agreed on the authenticity of his work, I am out. I trust teachers.
I know what a serious thing it is to accuse someone of cheating; I know teachers do not take such things lightly. When four go on the record to say so, I’m convinced. Barring some personal grievance or prejudice, which could happen, hard for me to believe that all four subject-matter experts were just wrong here. Also, if there was bias or petty politics at play, it probably would have shown up before the student’s third year, not just before starting his dissertation.
Moreover, at least as far as the coverage is concerned, the student does not allege bias or program politics. His complaint is based on due process and inaccuracy of the underlying accusation.
Let me also say quickly that asking ChatGPT for answers you plan to compare to suspicious work may be interesting, but it’s far from convincing — in my opinion. ChatGPT makes stuff up. I’m not saying that answer comparison is a waste, I just would not build a case on it. Here, the university didn’t. It may have added to the case, but it was not the case. Adding also that the similarities between the faculty-created answers and the student’s — both are included in the article — are more compelling than I expected.
Then you add detection software, which the article later shares showed high likelihood of AI text, and the case is pretty tight. Four professors, similar answers, AI detection flags — feels like a heavy case.
Denied it.
The article continues that Yang, the student:
denies using AI for this exam and says the professors have a flawed approach to determining whether AI was used. He said methods used to detect AI are known to be unreliable and biased, particularly against people whose first language isn’t English. Yang grew up speaking Southern Min, a Chinese dialect.
Does anyone actually read those things?
Back to Minnesota, Yang says that as a result of the findings against him and being removed from the program, he lost his American study visa. Yang called it “a death penalty.”
With friends like these.
Also interesting is that, according to the coverage:
His academic advisor Bryan Dowd spoke in Yang’s defense at the November hearing, telling panelists that expulsion, effectively a deportation, was “an odd punishment for something that is as difficult to establish as a correspondence between ChatGPT and a student’s answer.”
That would be a fair point except that the next paragraph is:
Dowd is a professor in health policy and management with over 40 years of teaching at the U of M. He told MPR News he lets students in his courses use generative AI because, in his opinion, it’s impossible to prevent or detect AI use. Dowd himself has never used ChatGPT, but he relies on Microsoft Word’s auto-correction and search engines like Google Scholar and finds those comparable.
That’s ridiculous. I’m sorry, it is. The dude who lets students use AI because he thinks AI is “impossible to prevent or detect,” the guy who has never used ChatGPT himself, and thinks that Google Scholar and auto-complete are “comparable” to AI — that’s the person speaking up for the guy who says he did not use AI. Wow.
That guy says:
“I think he’s quite an excellent student. He’s certainly, I think, one of the best-read students I’ve ever encountered”
Time out. Is it not at least possible that professor Dowd thinks student Yang is an excellent student because Yang was using AI all along, and our professor doesn’t care to ascertain the difference? Also, mind you, as far as we can learn from this news story, Dowd does not even say Yang is innocent. He says the punishment is “odd,” that the case is hard to establish, and that Yang was a good student who did not need to use AI. Although, again, I’m not sure how good professor Dowd would know.
As further evidence of Yang’s scholastic ability, Dowd also points out that Yang has a paper under consideration at a top academic journal.
You know what I am going to say.
To me, that entire Dowd diversion is mostly funny.
More evidence.
Back on track, we get even more detail, such as that the exam in question was:
an eight-hour preliminary exam that Yang took online. Instructions he shared show the exam was open-book, meaning test takers could use notes, papers and textbooks, but AI was explicitly prohibited.
Exam graders argued the AI use was obvious enough. Yang disagrees.
Weeks after the exam, associate professor Ezra Golberstein submitted a complaint to the U of M saying the four faculty reviewers agreed that Yang’s exam was not in his voice and recommending he be dismissed from the program. Yang had been in at least one class with all of them, so they compared his responses against two other writing samples.
So, the exam expressly banned AI. And we learn that, as part of the determination of the professors, they compared his exam answers with past writing.
I say all the time, there is no substitute for knowing your students. If the initial four faculty who flagged Yang’s work had him in classes and compared suspicious work to past work, what more can we want? It does not get much better than that.
Then there’s even more evidence:
Yang also objects to professors using AI detection software to make their case at the November hearing.
He shared the U of M’s presentation showing findings from running his writing through GPTZero, which purports to determine the percentage of writing done by AI. The software was highly confident a human wrote Yang’s writing sample from two years ago. It was uncertain about his exam responses from August, assigning 89 percent probability of AI having generated his answer to one question and 19 percent probability for another.
“Imagine the AI detector can claim that their accuracy rate is 99%. What does it mean?” asked Yang, who argued that the error rate could unfairly tarnish a student who didn’t use AI to do the work.
First, GPTZero is junk. It’s reliably among the worst available detection systems. Even so, 89% is a high number. And most importantly, the case against Yang is not built on AI detection software alone, as no case should ever be. It’s confirmation, not conviction. Also, Yang, who the paper says already has one PhD, knows exactly what an accuracy rate of 99% means. Be serious.
A pattern.
Then we get this, buried in the news coverage:
Yang suggests the U of M may have had an unjust motive to kick him out. When prompted, he shared documentation of at least three other instances of accusations raised by others against him that did not result in disciplinary action but that he thinks may have factored in his expulsion.
He does not include this concern in his lawsuits. These allegations are also not explicitly listed as factors in the complaint against him, nor letters explaining the decision to expel Yang or rejecting his appeal. But one incident was mentioned at his hearing: in October 2023, Yang had been suspected of using AI on a homework assignment for a graduate-level course.
In a written statement shared with panelists, associate professor Susan Mason said Yang had turned in an assignment where he wrote “re write it, make it more casual, like a foreign student write but no ai.” She recorded the Zoom meeting where she said Yang denied using AI and told her he uses ChatGPT to check his English.
She asked if he had a problem with people believing his writing was too formal and said he responded that he meant his answer was too long and he wanted ChatGPT to shorten it. “I did not find this explanation convincing,” she wrote.
I’m sorry — what now?
Yang says he was accused of using AI in academic work in “at least three other instances.” For which he was, of course, not disciplined. In one of those cases, Yang literally turned in a paper with this:
“re write it, make it more casual, like a foreign student write but no ai.”
He said he used ChatGPT to check his English and asked ChatGPT to shorten his writing. But he did not use AI. How does that work?
For that one where he left in the prompts to ChatGPT:
the Office of Community Standards sent Yang a letter warning that the case was dropped but it may be taken into consideration on any future violations.
Yang was warned, in writing.
If you’re still here, we have four professors who agree that Yang’s exam likely used AI, in violation of exam rules. All four had Yang in classes previously and compared his exam work to past hand-written work. His exam answers had similarities with ChatGPT output. An AI detector said, in at least one place, his exam was 89% likely to be generated with AI. Yang was accused of using AI in academic work at least three other times, by a fifth professor, including one case in which it appears he may have left in his instructions to the AI bot.
On the other hand, he did say he did not do it.
Findings, review.
Further:
But the range of evidence was sufficient for the U of M. In the final ruling, the panel — comprised of several professors and graduate students from other departments — said they trusted the professors’ ability to identify AI-generated papers.
Several professors and students agreed with the accusations. Yang appealed and the school upheld the decision. Yang was gone. The appeal officer wrote:
“PhD research is, by definition, exploring new ideas and often involves development of new methods. There are many opportunities for an individual to falsify data and/or analysis of data. Consequently, the academy has no tolerance for academic dishonesty in PhD programs or among faculty. A finding of dishonesty not only casts doubt on the veracity of everything that the individual has done or will do in the future, it also causes the broader community to distrust the discipline as a whole.”
Slow clap.
And slow clap for the University of Minnesota. The process is hard. Doing the review, examining the evidence, making an accusation — they are all hard. Sticking by it is hard too.
Seriously, integrity is not a statement. It is action. Integrity is making the hard choice.
MPR, spare me.
Minnesota Public Radio is a credible news organization. Which makes it difficult to understand why they chose — as so many news outlets do — to not interview one single expert on academic integrity for a story about academic integrity. It’s downright baffling.
Worse, MPR, for no specific reason whatsoever, decides to take prolonged shots at AI detection systems such as:
Computer science researchers say detection software can have significant margins of error in finding instances of AI-generated text. OpenAI, the company behind ChatGPT, shut down its own detection tool last year citing a “low rate of accuracy.” Reports suggest AI detectors have misclassified work by non-native English writers, neurodivergent students and people who use tools like Grammarly or Microsoft Editor to improve their writing.
“As an educator, one has to also think about the anxiety that students might develop,” said Manjeet Rege, a University of St. Thomas professor who has studied machine learning for more than two decades.
That’s just bad journalism.
And, of course — anxiety. Rege, who please note has studied machine learning and not academic integrity, is predictable, but not credible here. He says, for example:
it’s important to find the balance between academic integrity and embracing AI innovation. But rather than relying on AI detection software, he advocates for evaluating students by designing assignments hard for AI to complete — like personal reflections, project-based learnings, oral presentations — or integrating AI into the instructions.
Absolute joke.
MPR also quotes a student who says:
she and many other students live in fear of AI detection software.
“AI and its lack of dependability for detection of itself could be the difference between a degree and going home,” she said.
Nope. Please, please tell me I don’t need to go through all the reasons that’s absurd. Find me one single of case in which an AI detector alone sent a student home. One.
Two final bits.
The MPR story shares:
In the 2023-24 school year, the University of Minnesota found 188 students responsible of scholastic dishonesty because of AI use, reflecting about half of all confirmed cases of dishonesty on the Twin Cities campus.
Just noteworthy. Also, it is interesting that 188 were “responsible.” Considering how rare it is to be caught, and for formal processes to be initiated and upheld, 188 feels like a real number. Again, good for U of M.
The MPR article wraps up that Yang:
found his life in disarray. He said he would lose access to datasets essential for his dissertation and other projects he was working on with his U of M account, and was forced to leave research responsibilities to others at short notice. He fears how this will impact his academic career
Stating the obvious, like the University of Minnesota, I could not bring myself to trust Yang’s data. And I do actually hope that being kicked out of a university for cheating would impact his academic career.
And finally:
“Probably I should think to do something, selling potatoes on the streets or something else,” he said.
Dude has a PhD in economics from Utah State University. Selling potatoes on the streets. Come on.
In May 2022, The Higher Education Inquirer began investigating Ambow Education after we received credible tips about the company as a bad actor in US higher education, particularly with its failure to adequately maintain and operate Bay State College in Boston. The Massachusetts Attorney General had already stepped in and fined the school in 2020 for misleading students.
As HEI dug deeper, we found that Ambow failed years before under questionable circumstances. And we worked with a number of news outlets and staffers in the offices of Senator Elizabeth Warren and Representative Ayanna Pressley to get justice for the students at Bay State College.
Since that 2022 story we continued to investigate Ambow Education, its CEO Jin Huang, and Ambow’s opaque business practices. Not only were we concerned about the company’s finances, we were wary of any undue influence the People’s Republic of China (PRC) had on Ambow, which the company had previously acknowledged in SEC documents.
A Chinese proverb says it’s easier to fish in murky waters. And that’s what it seemed like for us to investigate Ambow, a company that used the murky waters in American business as well as anyone. But not everything can remain hidden to US authorities, even if the company was based out of the Cayman Islands, with a corporate headquarters in Beijing.
In November 2022, Ambow sold all of its assets in the People’s Republic of China, and in August 2023 Bay State College closed abruptly. We reported some strange behaviors in the markets to the Securities and Exchange Commission, but they had nothing to tell us. Ambow moved its headquarters to a small rental space in Cupertino, where it still operates.
In 2024, Ambow began spinning its yarns about a new learning platform, HybriU, using Norm Algood of Synergis Education as its huckster. HybriU presented at the Computer Electronics Show in Las Vegas and at the ASU-GSV conference in San Diego and used those appearances as signs of legitimacy. It later reported a $1.3 million contract with a small company out of Singapore.
In 2025, Ambow remains alive but with fewer assets and only the promise of doing something of value. Its remaining US college, the New School of Architecture and Design, has had problems paying its bills, and there are at least two cases in San Diego Superior Court pending (for failure to pay rent and failing to pay the school’s former President). However, Ambow has been given a clean bill of health by its regional accreditor, WSCUC.
A report by Argus Research, which Ambow commissioned, also described Ambow in a generally positive light, despite the fact that Ambow was only spending $100,000 per quarter on Research and Development. That report notes that Prouden, a small accounting firm based in the People’s Republic of China is just seeing Ambow Education’s books for the first time. In April 2025 we wonder if we’ll get adequate information when Ambow reports its 2024 annual earnings, or whether we find just another layer of sludge.
Columbia University Professor Jeffrey Sachs says that the United States is steering the world toward disaster. Sachs served as the Director of the Earth Institute at Columbia University from 2002 to 2016 and is considered one of the world’s leading experts on
economic development, global macroeconomics, and the fight against
poverty.
The Higher Education Inquirer has had the good fortune to include scholars like Henry Giroux, Gary Roth, Wendy Lynne Lee, Bryan Alexander and Richard Wolff. And their work certainly informs us about higher education. With those authors and others from the past and present (like Upton Sinclair, Craig Steven Wilder, Davarian Baldwin, and Sharon Stein), we can better understand puzzling issues that are rarely pieced together.
In 2023, we suggested that a People’s History of US Higher Education be written. And to expand its scope, the key word “Empire” is essential in establishing a critical (and honest) analysis. Otherwise, it’s work that only serves to indoctrinate rather than educate its citizens. And it’s also work that smart and diligent students know is untrue.
A volume on Higher Education and the American Empire needs to explain how elite universities have worked for US special interests and the interests of wealthy people across the globe–often at the expense of folks in university cities and places around the world–and at the expense of the planet and its ecosystems. With global climate change in our face (and denied), and with the US in competition with China, India, Russia, in our face (and denied), this story cannot be ignored.
This necessary work on Higher Education and the US Empire needs to include detailed timelines, and lots of charts, graphs, and statistical analyses–as well as stories. Outstanding books and articles have been written over the decades, but they have not been comprehensive. And in many cases, there is little to be said about how this information can be used for reform and resistance.
Information is available for those who are interested enough to dig.
Understanding the efforts of the American Empire (and the wealthy and powerful who control it) is more important than ever. And understanding how this information can be used to educate, agitate, and organize the People is even more essential. We hear there are such projects in the pipeline and look forward to their publication. We hope they don’t pull punches and that the books do not gather dust on shelves, as many important books do.
Key links:
The Best Classroom is the Struggle (Joshua Sooter)
Higher Education Must Champion Democracy, Not Surrender to Fascism (Henry Giroux)
If there’s one thing we know for sure about Confucian societies, it’s the value they place on scholarship. Being a student doesn’t just connote future financial success; the very act of studying itself carries an important element of moral virtue. It’s one of the things that has driven university participation rates to extraordinarily high levels in East Asia, and also among diaspora populations in countries around the world. Here in Canada, 25 years ago, Statistics Canada polled parents across Canada on their expectations for their children’s education, and they literally could not fins a Chines parent whose ambitions for their children involved community college.
But not everyone can go to university. Well, they can, but it doesn’t leave you with the most balanced labour force. So if you’re running a higher education system and you want to get people to focus on vocational skills, what do you do? Well, if you’re China, one strategy might be to create vocational credentials but attach to them something a little bit more academic…like a degree? Call it a “vocational university”
With me once again today, this time to talk about Vocational higher education in China is Gerard Postiglione, professor of higher education at the University of Hong Kong. We cover the origins of the Chinese government’s vocational education policy, it’s recent successes, and the development of a new type of institution called a vocational university. It’s a good, quick tour through an underappreciated part of the global higher education system.
Let’s turn things over to Gerry.
The World of Higher Education Podcast
Episode 3.13 | Skilled for the Future: How China is Transforming Vocational Education with Gerard Postiglione
Alex Usher (AU): Gerry, could you give us a sense of where vocational education traditionally fits within Chinese tertiary or post-secondary education? This is a Confucian society, and as places like Korea and Japan have shown, there’s a strong cultural preference for book learning. The connotations of being a scholar often include elements of moral virtue. So, where does vocational education fit into this?
Gerard Postiglione (GP): Well, China has gone through tremendous transitions in the 20th century—from the Qing dynasty to the Republic, and then from the Republic to the People’s Republic of China in 1949. At that time, China was overwhelmingly poor, with about 80 to 85 percent of the population living in poverty. There was a lot to do. The first phase of change involved learning from the Soviet Union, which placed a strong emphasis on linking schools and factories, education, and labor.
During this period, there was no issue of employment because jobs were assigned. But with the market reforms starting in 1978 and accelerating in the 1980s, everything changed. In 1985, there was a major Communist Party policy to universalize nine years of basic education. However, at the same time, access to universities remained extremely limited—only about 1 to 2 percent of the 18-to-22-year-old age group. At the senior secondary level, vocational and technical education accounted for about 50 percent of enrollment. That was a significant shift toward developing technical skills in senior secondary high school. That was a major change, and it was very difficult. Of course, there were costs and finances to handle, equipment to manage, and so on but that’s when China launched into its first phase of technical vocational education.
AU: There’s always been kind of a view, and this isn’t restricted to China, of course, that vocational education is a “less than” choice. Earlier this year, there was a big stir about a student named Jiang Ping from a fashion vocational high school. She won a national math competition beating students from very prestigious institutions. She said she wanted to stay in vocational education, which caused quite a sensation. Though, of course, there was even more attention later when it turned out her teacher had helped her during the competition, which led to her disqualification. But it reflects this broader tension, doesn’t it? That vocational education is still seen as a distant second choice to a traditional academic university if you can get in. What do you think?
GP: The Jiang Ping case was widely reported, and it was unfortunate. I can understand her teacher’s hope to see her student excel, especially in such a high-profile competition as the Alibaba Global Mathematics Competition. It was the first time contestants were allowed to use AI tools, which added a new dimension. But when it was discovered that her teacher had helped her during the competition, she was eliminated.
As for the broader question, yes, that traditional Confucian view of education as primarily academic does still resonate, and you’re right—it’s not unique to China. In many countries, academic higher education is seen as more prestigious and valuable than vocational pathways. In China’s case, for students moving into senior secondary education, if they weren’t excelling academically, vocational technical education became the primary option for about 50 percent of students.
It’s also worth noting that China’s higher education system includes both four-year bachelor’s degrees and three-year specialized colleges, similar to community colleges. So there’s always been a dual pathway. But roll ahead to the future, I think those attitudes are starting to shift, especially with the leadership taking strong steps to highlight the value and persuade people of the value of vocational and technical education in an age increasingly defined by high technology and specialized skills.
AU: In 2019, the Chinese government introduced the National Vocational Education Reform Implementation Plan. What were its key elements? What were they trying to achieve?
GP: That was a massive plan, introduced at a time when access to senior secondary education had reached about 50 percent, moving China past the stage of mass higher education and into universal higher education, with a postsecondary access rate of around 60 percent. The government’s approach was very strategic. They looked at their industrial development plans, identified key industries, and considered their long-term goals for funding science and technology, as well as for developing both high-level and mid-level skills.
The aim was clear: to become the global leader in vocational education. This included strengthening the three-year diploma programs, which already make up nearly 50 percent of China’s higher education system and transforming many of the rapidly expanded provincial universities into application-oriented institutions offering bachelor’s degrees that are heavily vocational and technical in focus.
I’ve seen this transformation firsthand through work with Asian Development Bank projects in provinces like Gansu and Yunnan. In Gansu, they built an entire city of vocational and technical education colleges, referred to as a “vocational technical city.” Yunnan, meanwhile, has become a model province for western China, pushing ahead with this initiative.
This plan is not just about upgrading skills but also about providing jobs for graduates in a slowing economy, with GDP growth now at around 5 percent. It’s a highly ambitious and comprehensive effort to align education with the needs of both the labor market and the country’s economic development.
AU: Let’s talk about vocational universities specifically. My understanding is that they come out of the same period or the same plan. How do they differ from traditional universities or vocational colleges? What makes their programming and curriculum unique?
GP: Well, the first thing to note is that the entire system, including the top-tier universities, is now putting more emphasis on application-oriented skills. That said, the top universities—like the flagship and highly-ranked institutions—are focused on the rapid advancements in science, technology, and innovation, so there’s not as much of an issue there.
But for the rest of the system, which is massive, the focus is aligning more closely with the labor market and economic needs. Vocational universities—now sometimes translated as Colleges of Applied Science or Universities of Applied Science—are distinct in their close relationship with industry. That’s the key element. They aim to bring industries much closer to the education system.
This is challenging because many of the academics at these institutions were trained in traditional disciplines, often with PhDs, and they’re now being asked to collaborate with industry, which is more focused on production and profits. But that collaboration is crucial to the success of these institutions. At the upper levels, this is working quite well—for example, Huawei now employs a large number of PhD holders and is very application-oriented. But for the rest of the country, it’s more complex.
State-owned enterprises are heavily encouraged to engage with these application-oriented universities. Meanwhile, the private sector, which is growing, also plays a significant role. Private vocational colleges or universities of applied science have a strong incentive to ensure their graduates get jobs—otherwise, they won’t attract students. This dynamic means there’s learning on both sides, with the public and private sectors influencing each other.
Another distinct feature of these institutions is their emphasis on skills certification. Students earn credits for the skills they acquire, and a credit bank system is in place to support this. This allows students to build up credentials over time, aligning their education with workforce needs.
AU: You raised something here that I think is kind of important because in India, they’re building what are called skills universities. I can’t quite figure out how they work or what they’re supposed to do, but there seems to be a big corporate aspect to them. For instance, they’re inviting industries directly to teach programs or design the curriculum. Is that also happening in Chinese vocational universities, whether public or private?
GP: Well, I’ve only been to India a couple of times, so I wouldn’t claim to be an expert on the system there. But from what I’ve seen, they’re dealing with similar issues around skills training and apprenticeships for college students. That said, I think China is moving much faster in this respect.
In China, there’s a real effort to bring industry into the universities. This involves recruiting members of companies to go into universities and teach, collaborate with academic staff, and form centers for training and experimentation. There are experimental vocational—or let’s call them colleges of applied science—being set up in cities all over the country. This is a very serious effort, and both the government and the Communist Party are strongly committed to making it work.
China is also working on developing proper evaluation systems for this model, though that process is still underway. But the key is getting industry directly involved in the university, and that’s a central part of the plan. There’s also a focus on internationalization, with China being very open to learning from models around the world. For instance, I’ve been asked to introduce elements of the German model. I actually published a paper with a Chinese economist comparing the German model with China’s approach, and that’s been influential in shaping how this sector is developing.
AU: Is this focus on vocationalization a reaction to high graduate unemployment from traditional universities? I recall that back in 2014, China planned to convert several universities into polytechnics. Is this part of the same trend?
GP: Yes, I think the translations of the terms—whether you call them polytechnics, universities of applied science, or something else—don’t really matter too much. The key thing is that these are application-oriented bachelor’s degree programs. And the introduction of these degrees addresses a critical issue: families in China traditionally don’t want their children to go anywhere but academic higher education. But if a degree comes from a university, even if it’s vocationally oriented, that helps resolve concerns about the image of vocational education.
Graduate unemployment is certainly a pressing issue. The economy is growing more slowly than before, and when you move from mass higher education to universal higher education—China’s access rate is now over 60%—it’s inevitable that this kind of challenge emerges. It’s partly a transitional phase, but it’s also something the government is addressing with both short-term measures and longer-term plans.
I’ve seen this kind of thing before. For example, when I was a student in the United States during an economic downturn, graduate unemployment was a serious issue for several years. China is dealing with something similar now. It’s likely to take three, four, or even five years to turn things around, but the government is actively working on stimulus plans to address these short-term challenges.
At the same time, they’re focusing on the longer-term development of a higher education system that aligns with the labor market and the country’s broader economic goals. It’s a significant concern, but I think they’re holding the line for now.
AU: Sure. And so what’s student uptake like at these vocational universities? I mean, you said earlier that if their graduates don’t get jobs, then students won’t apply. So are students actually enrolling in these institutions? Do parents want their kids to attend? What’s the demand for this compared to traditional universities?
GP: Well, the demand for education in China is still tremendous. It’s deeply rooted in Chinese civilization. Education is highly valued, and many of my own students, even in Hong Kong, have gone all the way through the system. If there were such a thing as a second or third doctorate, I’m sure they’d pursue that too. So yes, the demand is there, and the students are generally very good. There’s a heavy emphasis on education across the board.
Now, when it comes to uptake, there’s a bit of a difference between the state-run system and the private sector. For public vocational universities, there’s no problem with enrollment because these are degree-granting programs. Degrees carry significant weight culturally, and parents and students see the value in them.
The private sector is a different story. Private institutions don’t receive much government funding; they rely on student fees, investments, and donations. Some private vocational colleges are extremely successful and manage to compete well, but they need to deliver outcomes—mainly, good job placements—or they won’t attract students. What’s interesting is how the state system learns from the private sector. The private colleges have to be responsive to the labor market to survive, and their success in this area can influence public institutions.
For the public system, though, uptake isn’t really an issue. Plus, there are opportunities for additional training. For example, if you have a bachelor’s degree and find that you need certain skills for the job market, you can take a “top-up” year to get the training you need. It’s a flexible system that adapts to labor market demands.
AU: Right. Well, that’s very similar to our community colleges in Canada. Final question: as China continues to reform and expand its higher education system, what do you see as the future for vocational universities? Are they going to become a bigger part of the mix moving forward? And if so, will it be focused on certain fields, or do you see it expanding more broadly?
GP: Vocational and technical higher education in China is already a major component of the higher education system, and it’s going to remain that way. One of the reasons for China’s productivity in areas like green skills, battery production for electric vehicles, and other technical aspects of the green economy is this strong foundation in vocational education.
China has learned a lot from international experience—working with companies like Tesla, IBM, and John Deere—and it’s applying those lessons. The government’s plan is to go full throttle with higher vocational technical colleges, polytechnics, or colleges of applied science—whatever you want to call them. And they have a long-term strategy to ensure these institutions are central to their higher education system.
I’d also expect that other countries in the region, particularly middle-income developing countries, will follow this path. China’s approach is setting an example for how to align higher education with economic development, especially in sectors that are crucial for the future.
AU: Gerry, thanks so much for being with us today.
GP: You’re very welcome.
AU: And it just remains for me to thank our excellent producers, Tiffany MacLennan and Sam Pufek, and of course, you, our listener, for joining us. If you have any questions or suggestions for future episodes, please get in touch at [email protected]. Don’t forget to subscribe to our YouTube channel and join us next week for the final episode of the year, featuring Robert Kelchen from the University of Tennessee. He’ll share his top 10 stories in U.S. higher education. Bye for now.
*This podcast transcript was generated using an AI transcription service with limited editing. Please forgive any errors made through this service.