The Wang Hui plagiarism incident still has no conclusion, and the debate continues. Just now I saw a reposted article, also a rather typical pro-Wang piece, and it really does make some good points. Though it makes good points, it is actually a maneuver to shift the focus. In substance, it is still absurd and laughable.
I’ll first quote the article’s first section (the boldface is mine):
A Casual Talk on the Wang-Zhu Incident: It Concerns Academic Norms, and Even More, the History of Scholarship
2010-07-14 19:03:37 from: leo
2010-07-14 19:03:37 from: leo
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The doctoral dissertation Wang Hui published in the late 1980s, Against Despair, has been branded by Wang Binbin with the big hat of plagiarism. Wang Hui has not failed to respond, but the response was very simple—let the academic community clarify it for itself. After that, many scholars published their views in public media such as newspapers, journals, and the internet; some endorsed the accusation completely, some denied it completely, and some expressed a middle position. In fact, in the author’s view, this is precisely what Wang Hui calls clarification by the academic community, and this way is also the democratic way of open debate that Wang Hui and other left-wing scholars have consistently advocated.
What is meant by the academic community, and what is meant by clarification by the academic community? It now seems that the left and right do indeed differ. The left believes that the academic community is not some mysterious organization, but the scholarly community; so long as scholars step forward to speak on academic matters, then that is a matter for the academic community. And the way to clarify it is through open debate, beginning first with the question of what kind of academic norms we need.
But right-wing scholars seem not to see it this way. The academic community they expect is an authoritative (even secret, anonymous) organization made up of certain people—in other words, the so-called “academic committee.” No matter how complex the personnel makeup of this organization may be—who is entitled to determine the legitimacy of the members comprising this committee? And as for the way to clarify things, it is for this scholarly organization to arrive at an authoritative conclusion according to some so-called academic norms.
This is where the current left-right divergence lies, and also the reason behind the different reactions to Wang and Zhu. The left probably thinks that your Wang Binbin’s so-called norms are in the first place something you fabricated as your private instrument, lacking public character; before pronouncing guilt, we have to discuss first what counts as a crime and what law applies.
To say that this sort of rebuttal is absurd and laughable is because, from the outset, it proceeds on the premise of evading the accusation. What are the people accusing Wang Hui saying? “Plagiarism”! Wang Binbin’s original article spoke of a “problem of scholarly conduct,” and throughout it not a single word was said about “academic norms.” As for Lin Yusheng, he merely brought up the phrase “academic norms” in response to the pro-Wang side’s claim that it was “not plagiarism, merely a bit insufficiently norm-abiding academically,” and stressed that “plagiarism” is more than an ordinary problem of academic norms; what Lin Yusheng was saying was that Tsinghua University should take on “moral responsibility.” It is only that the pro-Wang camp kept incessantly invoking the so-called “academic norms”—first saying “it is not plagiarism, only not quite academic enough,” and then gradually reducing the issue of plagiarism to a problem of academic norms, and finally not speaking of “plagiarism” at all, but only disputing “academic norms,” as if the accusations raised by Wang Binbin and others had originally been merely that Wang Hui was “not sufficiently academic-norm-abiding.” The rebuttal articles now are almost all directly launched on the premise that “Wang Binbin and others accuse Wang Hui of not obeying academic norms,” and people are almost about to forget that “not obeying academic norms” was originally only a dodge used by the pro-Wang side to evade the accusation.
The accusation of “plagiarism” is first a textual substantiation, and second an attack on morality or character. What is called a “problem of scholarly conduct” is, in other words, a problem of academic character, and only lastly does it call for a normative restraint. Is theft a matter of “behavioral norms”? To say a person’s conduct is not quite proper may perhaps be a compliment to their unruly temperament, but to accuse someone of petty theft is to involve their character.
Of course, you may ask: by what right do we say theft is a character issue, while not walking on the right-hand side when going up and down stairs is merely a behavioral-norm issue? Which authority says theft is more shameful than running a red light? Of course, you can raise these doubts, and it is indeed worth our reflecting on whether our values are relative. Yet in any case, we must admit that accusing you of theft and accusing you of not keeping to the right are different things. If my accusation is specifically that you stole, and you conflate theft with all sorts of conduct and then evade the issue by talking about other things, that is evasion. It is like accusing a student of cheating on an exam, and the student defending himself by questioning the legitimacy of the school rules and regulations; in that case, we have all the more reason to suspect the student’s character.
iv style=”padding-bottom: 0px;text-indent: 21pt;margin: 0px;padding-left: 0px;padding-right: 0px;padding-top: 0px”>The accusation now made against Wang Hui is “plagiarism,” and what this involves behind it is a matter of scholarly conduct and character, not some problem of academic norms. If one wants to rebut it, there are perhaps several ways. The first is to say that he simply did not plagiarize, but the textual evidence is ironclad, and this is very hard to argue against. The second is to say that he did not plagiarize intentionally, but only by accident—much as I might have mistaken something through blurred vision or forgetfulness, thinking the item had fallen off my desk and thus carrying it off by mistake. In that case, even if one is caught red-handed with the goods, if it was truly unintentional, one’s moral character is not damaged. But if such lapses occur rather frequently, then I fear it would also lack persuasiveness, and in any case this would have to be explained by Wang Hui himself. The third is to say that although he did plagiarize intentionally, plagiarism itself is not such a serious matter—for example, just like failing to arrange the bibliography in the order of authors’ pinyin, it was only due to momentary laziness, or perhaps dissatisfaction with such cumbersome ritual niceties. But the pro-Wang side conflates plagiarism with other issues and speaks only in generalities about “academic norms,” which cuts off this line of rebuttal.
Of course, a serious moral problem may also very well become a legal problem, and thus there arises the question of establishing an “academic committee” to handle it. What should be noted is that the significance of an “academic committee” does not lie in issuing an authoritative conclusion on whether Wang Hui plagiarized. In fact, by laying the relevant passages out in the open through the article and showing them to the public, one is already leaving the judgment of “whether there was plagiarism” to every reader. Whether there was plagiarism, and to what extent, each reader can figure out for themselves by comparing the texts. Wang Binbin did not first file a quiet little report and then have some secret organization issue a definitive public verdict that “Wang Hui plagiarized”; rather, he let the public judge for itself. So what is an “academic committee” for? It is established in order to impose sanctions. It is like this: if a thief is caught red-handed with the stolen goods on him, and his behavior is directly exposed to the public, then every observer knows whether he stole or not. But if he is to be punished for it, you cannot rely on a crowd of onlookers to decide for themselves—for example, by having those who deem him a thief give him a beating. That is mob politics. Rational politics must establish a procedure, selecting a small group as judges, lawyers, jurors, and so on, to determine guilt and sentence punishment in a specialized way.
So where does legitimacy come from? If one follows what the article calls the left—“Before judgment, we must first discuss what counts as a crime and what law applies”—then when would we ever be able to begin judging guilt? Discussion can be carried out at the public level, with you saying one thing and me another, but in the end who has the authority to enact the law? Ultimately, it is still some people, not the entire public, who enact laws. If the making of law requires the discussion of all the public and the hearing of every participant’s views before it can be formulated, then by what method is discussion to be organized? By what rules are opinions to be unified? These procedures themselves also require norms, so who is to formulate those norms? Who is to establish the law for making law? In this way, no law could ever be made at all. So according to such a “leftist” logic, one can only end up taking refuge in mob politics, in lawlessness.
Discussion of what counts as a crime and what counts as law is of course necessary; however, it is not, as that “leftist” says, something that must take place before “judgment.” Law grows through precedent. Logically speaking, first comes the constitution, then criminal law, civil law, local regulations, industry regulations, and finally unwritten norms. But in temporal terms, the relation is the reverse. It is by no means the case that before every adjudication one must start from the constitutional basis and discuss everything all over again; rather, each adjudication simply cites the most immediate relevant regulation for its handling. If one objects to the judgment, one can then appeal to the regulations of a higher level. And after many actual adjudications, one reflects and summarizes, in order to formulate or revise regulations of greater generality. This is the path by which law grows. So viewed, there is no situation in which any matter lacks a legal basis. Disputes in the office should be settled in the office; if one is dissatisfied with the ruling, one can appeal to the factory director; only at the end does one appeal to civil law, and if civil law will not do, then one returns to the constitution for review. Pursuing legitimacy is actually very simple: it means appealing to some power outside the parties to the dispute, and having it adjudicate and restrain according to some rule. And the power that adjudicates can be large or small. A dispute between two small powers is handled and regulated by appealing to a somewhat larger power according to some rule of a certain generality—that is legitimacy. If the small power is dissatisfied with how the somewhat larger power handles it, and so appeals to an even larger power for regulation, that is still legitimacy. In other words, at that point the dispute is no longer a dispute between two small powers, but a dispute between a small power and a somewhat larger power. And if the larger power can handle the dispute according to rules with a slightly greater degree of generality, then its use of its greater power to suppress the somewhat larger power is legitimate; whereas if no corresponding rule can be found to handle the matter, then the larger power ought not to intervene, and the somewhat larger power can still legitimately restrain the small power. For example, if Zhang San failed to observe the ritual norms of the family at home (for instance, he began eating before his elders did), and the elders, following the corresponding etiquette, criticized him and imposed certain sanctions (for example, making him do housework for a month), then this judgment is legitimate; it accords with family law. Does that mean that because there is not yet any clear national regulation defining table etiquette, the family’s criticism and punishment of Zhang San is illegal? No. Only if there already existed some explicit regulation saying that elders cannot punish in this way would such punishment be illegal; then it would fail to accord with national law.
Simply put, “illegal” is also premised on the existence of law. The lack of clarity in law, or its nonexistence, cannot cause something to become “illegal.” There is no absolute legitimacy, nor is there any illegality that comes out of thin air.
Any matter whatsoever can find a relatively legitimate way of adjudication. Take Wang Hui’s plagiarism: as long as one finds some power that can potentially restrain Wang Hui, and relies on relatively general rules, one can form a legitimate judgment. And unless that judgment is regarded as illegitimate at some higher level, in which case one then appeals to an even greater power for adjudication. The plan being called for now is to have Tsinghua University establish an academic committee to adjudicate this matter. Tsinghua University also possesses the power to impose certain sanctions (for example, expulsion), and such a judgment does not require a nationwide grand debate to first form an entire legal system before it can be carried out. Unless, that is, there already exists a more general body of regulations under which Tsinghua University’s judgment and enforcement would be illegal; then such a judgment should not be carried out. But if, as things stand, there is no higher law either supporting or negating the rules of the “academic committee,” then establishing an academic committee (a “somewhat larger power”) to make the judgment is precisely a pursuit of legitimacy. Of course, since there is no higher law stipulating that in this kind of situation an academic committee must be established and must adjudicate, the call for establishing such a committee is nothing more than a moral appeal. Thus what Lin Yusheng proposed was, in essence, a hope that Tsinghua University would take on “moral responsibility.”
July 16, 2010
Translated from the Chinese original with AI assistance. The original text is authoritative.
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