What makes the U.S. so great? Because it attracts the brightest minds from around the world.

Listen up, everyone. Why is the U.S. so powerful? It’s because the smartest people in the world—especially scientists—have all been drawn there. In English, this is called “brain drain.” It sounds simple enough, but what can someone whose brain has been drained actually do? They’re just left to follow orders, aren’t they? Technology determines the global division of labor, so the U.S. has to dominate the technological high ground. It’s not because the U.S. loves learning, but because it loves sharing the benefits. But things are changing. China has now begun to draw American talent back in the opposite direction. Many of these American minds are actually Chinese scholars. As the political environment in the U.S. continues to deteriorate and research conditions in China continue to improve, they are choosing to return home in droves. In 2010, only 900 scientists returned to China from the U.S.; by 2021, that number had tripled, exceeding 2,600. Since 2018, the number of Chinese or ethnic Chinese scientists leaving the U.S. has increased by 75%, with two-thirds of them returning to China. In response, U.S. media outlets have expressed great concern, calling this a “mass exodus” and describing it as the “most dangerous loss” caused by “Great China.” However, it’s hard to say how much of this Trump would actually take to heart. Recently, Dr. Qian Hong, a leading biophysicist, returned to China from the U.S. and joined West Lake University as Professor Jiang Qi at the Center for Interdisciplinary Sciences within the School of Science. My first reaction to this news was: “It’s the ‘Qian’ era all over again.” This family holds a prominent place in China’s modern history, particularly in the history of science. I needn’t say more—everyone knows Qian Xuesen, Qian Weichang, and Qian Sanqiang. But what you may not know is that, aside from them, the entire family has produced a wealth of talent. For example, Qian Hong’s grandfather, Qian Baojun, was a founder of China’s chemical industry and the former dean of Donghua Institute of Chemical Engineering (now Donghua University), while his father, Qian Min, was one of the founders of the Department of Mechanics at Peking University. What many may be even less aware of is that this family’s talents are spread across more than 50 countries worldwide, with over 100 of its members serving as academicians in national academies of sciences. Although two of the “Three Qians”—Qian Xuesen, Qian Weichang, and Qian Sanqiang—were in the United States and one was in France, and all chose to return to serve their homeland, there are actually many more top scientists who did not return. Take Qian Xueju, for example—Qian Xuesen’s cousin and also an aerodynamicist. His family is even more distinguished: his eldest son, Qian Yongyou, is a neurobiologist; his third son, Qian Yongjian, won the Nobel Prize in Chemistry; and his wife, Li Jia, along with her in-law Lin Jia, all belong to prominent Chinese scientific families that remained in the United States. Although they have all contributed to humanity in their respective fields, when it comes down to practical applications, their work remains inextricably linked to the nation. In the past, people often said that science knows no borders, but scientists have a homeland. However, since Trump took office, science, too, has had to recognize borders. In 2018, the U.S. launched the “China Initiative,” specifically targeting Chinese spies. Although it was halted in 2022, it had already led to numerous wrongful convictions, such as those of Fields Medalist Tao Zexuan, Raoyi’s ex-wife, the late Wu Ying, and others. The overall political climate has shown no sign of diminishing hostility toward Chinese scientists. Now let’s turn to Qian Hong. He graduated from Peking University in 1982 with a bachelor’s degree in astrophysics and subsequently moved to the United States, where he first earned a Ph.D. in biochemistry. He then conducted research on the thermodynamics and kinetics of protein folding at the University of Oregon and the California Institute of Technology before joining the Department of Applied Mathematics at the University of Washington, where he taught bioengineering at the medical school. In 2010, he was elected a Fellow of the American Physical Society; his primary research interests are mathematical stochastic modeling of biological systems and non-equilibrium statistical thermodynamics. As you can see, his academic scope is extremely broad. He put it this way: “Over the past 350 years, the soul of modern science has been physics, and its form has been mathematics. Perhaps in the coming century, the ideas of physics and the methods of mathematics will be integrated into biology.” In addition to Qian Hong, Westlake University recently welcomed world-class materials chemist Lin Wenbin as a Distinguished Professor of Chemistry in the School of Science. Lin Wenbin chose to retire early from the University of Chicago and arrived in Hangzhou dragging a suitcase he hadn’t used in a long time—one so worn that the wheels had even fallen off. What makes him so remarkable? The only two metal-organic frameworks (MOFs) in the world to have reached the clinical development stage—not iron frameworks, but “rice-grain-sized” porous polymers—were developed by this year’s Nobel Prize in Chemistry laureate. One application improves radiation therapy by making it safer, while the other enhances immunotherapy by using MOFs to activate photodynamic agents with infrared light, generating reactive oxygen species to kill cancer cells. His return to China is aimed at developing medical materials tailored to the country’s social and industrial context—such as using MOFs to create anti-tumor vaccines. What do anti-tumor vaccines mean? China is not only attracting these accomplished senior scholars but also young scientists in their prime, such as materials scientist Fang Lei, who stepped down as chair of the chemistry department at Texas A&M University to return to China and join the Yongjiang Laboratory as a chair researcher. Another example is Xie Zhenfei, a key figure in Harvard’s research on an mRNA vaccine for HIV, who joined the Wuhan Institute of Virology—a P4-level facility, representing the world’s highest level of biosafety. Both of these individuals are top-tier scientists born in the 1980s. There are far too many stories like these to recount in full. Yet they reflect broader changes in the overall research environments of China and the United States. In March of this year, *Nature* magazine surveyed 1,600 researchers in the United States. Of those, more than 1,200—or 75 percent—were not limited to Chinese Americans but spanned all ethnic groups. Seventy-five percent are considering leaving the U.S. due to a lack of national support, cuts to research funding, and obstacles to education, among other factors. Consequently, while most researchers from other ethnic groups choose to move to Europe or Canada, the Chinese community has an additional strong support system: everyone can clearly see the level of importance China places on scientific talent, the resources it allocates, and the benefits it offers. Therefore, in competition among nations, talent is the foundation. Paying attention to talent mobility is also a way to anticipate industry trends. That’s all for today. I’ll share more next time. Bye!