Introduction
“Teacher, if I start as a pre-appointed associate researcher (预聘副研究员), does that mean I’m already at a senior level (副高)?” a doctoral student from a “Double First Class” university in Beijing asked.
“Do you know what the next step in promotion is? It’s associate professor (副教授)!” his supervisor, Wang Yue, didn’t have the heart to shatter the student’s illusion. In fact, this position is equivalent to an assistant professor (助理教授), only it’s been given a seemingly more prestigious name.
“Associate researcher (副研究员) to associate professor (长聘副教授)… that doesn’t sound right, I’m confused,” the doctoral student said, puzzled.
In foreign universities, the “up-or-out”(“非升即走”) policy usually applies from assistant professor (助理教授) to tenured associate professor (长聘副教授), but in China, many more “academic steps” have been added.
For example, some universities have a promotion path of assistant professor (助理教授)— associate professor (副教授) — tenured associate professor (长聘副教授), while others follow a pre-appointed assistant professor (预聘助理教授)— tenured assistant professor (长聘助理教授) — tenured associate professor (长聘副教授)— tenured professor (长聘教授) route. The journey from assistant professor to tenured associate professor has become increasingly longer.
Recently, a “Double First Class” university in Northeast China introduced a new rule: teachers appointed to senior positions who do not attain a permanent senior position or higher within six years should apply to switch to a full-time research position, an experimental engineering position, or not be reappointed. A “Double First Class” university in the South announced a “pre-appointment to tenure” system, where pre-appointed assistant professors and tenured associate professors undergo two “up-or-out” evaluations.
The further reform of the “pre-appointment to tenure” system in universities has once again sparked heated discussions on the topic.
Various Names as Precursors to Academic Ladders
Wang Yue sees two types of academic ladders.
The first type is the punitive “climbing ladder.” For instance, adding positions like associate professor and tenured assistant professor between assistant professor and tenured associate professor forces faculty members to strive for promotion, regardless of their willingness, or else risk falling into the “ravine” due to the “up-or-out” policy.
The second type is the incentivizing “climbing ladder.” For example, the recent introduction of the “Wu Yuzhang Scholars” (吴玉章学者) program at Renmin University of China within the tenured faculty system offers more rewards for climbing the ladder, but not climbing doesn’t result in a fall.
“The former should be a cause for concern. If scholars are constantly evaluated, they might end up publishing fragmented articles without achieving significant results,” Wang Yue pointed out.
Accompanying this is a proliferation of titles. Special appointments (特聘), quasi-appointments (准聘), pre-appointments (预聘), high appointments (高聘), university appointments (校聘)… the self-named titles by universities have become increasingly confusing, leading to online posts by teachers warning, “Be very careful with positions prefixed to assistant professor.”
Giving pre-appointed positions various names is not unique to Chinese universities, as foreign universities do the same, though for different reasons. Why do domestic universities have these diverse titles?
This brings to mind the faculty postdoctoral recruitment system (师资博士后招聘制度) from five or six years ago. A few “Double First Class” universities in China “harvested” the academic achievements of young scholars but also eliminated them at a high rate, leading to criticism and dissatisfaction. Today, postdoctoral positions are rarely seen in university recruitment ads.
Some universities grant young teachers titles like research fellows, but the recruitment requirements are at the level of assistant or associate professors. “Some major projects require a senior professional title for application. By granting them the status of a research fellow, they can ‘mix fish eyes with pearls’ and apply for major projects under a senior title. This is unfair to other universities competing for the same projects,” Wang Yue explained.
Another reason is to satisfy the vanity of job seekers, akin to having “Sales Manager” on a business card, which might actually just mean a senior salesperson, to give them a “face” when they go out.
These various names have laid the groundwork for adding more steps to the academic ladder. “Just like the next step for a pre-appointed associate researcher is unexpectedly associate professor. If the relevant departments do not stop the addition of academic steps and standardize academic titles, who knows how many more steps will be added?” Wang Yue questioned.
However, it’s not the fault of the system itself.
The “pre-appointment to tenure” system has a history of over a hundred years in American universities. Except for a few top universities, like MIT with its system of assistant professor — associate professor — tenured associate professor — tenured professor, most American universities follow a path of assistant professor — tenured associate professor — tenured professor, totaling just two levels: tenured associate professor and tenured professor.
“Up-or-out” is a key feature, mainly occurring when a teacher is promoted from assistant to tenured associate professor, with only one or two chances; failure to advance leads to leaving the institution or changing roles, typically after 6–8 years.
At the end of the last century and the beginning of this one, Tsinghua University and Peking University in China were the first to experiment with the “pre-appointment to tenure” system, once regarded as the most important personnel system reform in Chinese universities in 20 years and the best and most effective teacher personnel system of Peking University and Tsinghua University to date.
The “pre-appointment to tenure” system has brought a lot of vitality to university development. Zhang Wen works in the HR department at a university in the South. Over the years, she has experienced several rounds of faculty evaluations. “Teachers within the traditional employment system are evaluated alongside those under the ‘pre-appointment to tenure’ system for associate professor and professor positions. The former stands little chance against the latter. The pass rate for the former is just over 50%, while for the latter, it is over 70%.”
As of now, except for a few universities like Fudan University and China Agricultural University, which explicitly do not adopt the “pre-appointment to tenure” system, most of China’s “Double First Class” universities fundamentally operate under this system.
Post “Floodgate” Measures Necessitate “Streamlining”
Since the introduction of the “pre-appointment to tenure” system in China, it has undergone numerous “localized” modifications, of which the academic ladder is just one aspect. Wang Yue observes, “The balance between maintaining integrity and fostering innovation is gradually tipping towards innovation.”
The original intent of the “pre-appointment to tenure” system was to protect academic freedom, not to punish and weed out faculty. “In foreign universities, the focus of the ‘up-or-out’ policy is on ‘up,’ not ‘out.’ However, in Chinese universities, it seems reversed, focusing more on ‘out’ than ‘up,’” pointed out Ye Zhiming, a professor at Shanghai University.
For example, the “pre-appointment to tenure” system in foreign universities is implemented only in research and teaching positions, meaning only those in relevant positions can enter the tenure track and face the “up-or-out” situation. In contrast, dedicated researchers operate on a project basis, staying at the institution if they secure projects and leaving if not.
Including postdocs, dedicated researchers, and specially-appointed associate researchers in the “up-or-out” process, especially the rule that they must achieve a quasi-appointed senior position within six years or face the risk of transfer or dismissal, is not a common practice.
Behind the acceleration of “streamlining” is a stark reality — the current and future demand for university faculty in China is experiencing a severe clash.
“Outsiders might find it hard to believe, but the reason we implemented the ‘pre-appointment to tenure’ system years ago was because the university had almost used up its staffing quota, with only about 80 positions left annually. For the university to grow, it needed to expand its faculty, but exceeding the quota is a red line,” Zhang Wen told the “China Science Daily.” This contradiction is common in universities, especially those that haven’t merged. In her province, a region with high population mobility, local universities are required by the provincial government to increase undergraduate admissions, making the expansion of faculty an urgent and inevitable task.
According to data from the Ministry of Education, in 2022, there were 1.9778 million full-time higher education teachers in Chinese universities, a 4.9% increase from the previous year; doctoral graduates numbered 82,300, a 14.3% increase.
Wang Shuowang, an associate professor at Wenzhou University, compared a set of data — in 2023, there were 12.91 million college entrance exam (Gaokao) candidates in China, with about 10.96 million planned admissions. However, in 2023, China’s birth rate was only 7.88 million. Eighteen years later, when the children born in 2023 take the Gaokao, assuming a 70% gross enrollment rate in higher education and nearly 1 million opting to study abroad, the total number of university admissions would be just over 4 million.
“10.96 million versus 4 million. If the mode of operation in higher education remains unchanged, around 60% of university faculty will face a situation where there are no students to teach,” Wang Shuowang said.
On one hand, there’s a strong current demand for staff in universities, and on the other, there’s the potential for a significant surplus of teachers in the future. Hence, universities now have the leeway to be selective. Driven by rankings, some universities in previous years adopted a “floodgate” (“大水漫灌式”) recruitment approach, seeking maximum benefit through increased numbers.
Wang Yue did the math. Hiring 3,000 “pre-appointment to tenure” system teachers, if each publishes 10 papers, would result in 30,000 papers for the university. “The university doesn’t tell you how many papers you need to publish to stay, only that a ‘high proportion’ will remain. Everyone fears falling behind, busy publishing high-quality papers, but there are only 100 positions. The university then announces it will only promote the top 100, but these 30,000 papers are included in the university’s statistics. When ranking universities, the average number of papers per faculty member is calculated, and this boosts the university’s performance significantly.”
Because of this, young faculty members sarcastically refer to this as “harvesting papers” (收割论文) and “squeezing the academic battery dry.” (榨干学术干电池)
The aftermath of “floodgate” recruitment is that so many people are brought in at once that it prevents more talented individuals from entering. Thus, universities, with their existing staff, set up more academic ladders.
“Previously, we counted provincial and ministerial-level projects; now we count national-level projects,” and “Previously, we counted SCI, SSCI, and CSSCI papers; now we count top-tier academic paper numbers.” Many teachers lament, “The speed of acquiring ‘hats’ and national-level projects can’t keep up with their devaluation.”
Beyond Quantification, the Greatest Specialty is Uncertainty
“Within three years, one must secure a national-level project,” a rule many universities strictly adhere to in their academic ladders.
Fang Qing joined a university in Guangdong. When she became an associate professor in the research series, the university gave her a task list that included securing a national-level project within three years, publishing six core journal papers, writing a monograph, and completing several projects and research reports. To ordinary teachers, this is already a demanding list, but completing it is just her basic job, “proving that I meet the assessment criteria but not enough for academic promotion.” Even if she completes these tasks, the university might still choose not to reappoint her due to budget constraints.
She found that her colleagues were all highly qualified, hailing from renowned universities at home and abroad, with impressive achievements. However, to succeed in the “up-or-out” system and advance from associate to tenured associate professor, no one knows what level of accomplishment is required, leading to endless work. “There are no standards. Sometimes we jokingly say that here there’s neither a ceiling nor a floor,” Fang Qing said, resignedly.
Another side effect is the difficulty in fostering friendly collaboration among colleagues, as the atmosphere is more competitive.
“I don’t understand why securing a national-level project is a must? In the United States, many academicians don’t even apply for national projects.” But under the pressure of “up-or-out,” Lin Ye, a pre-appointed assistant professor at a university in Beijing, still managed to secure a national-level project, albeit two months past the deadline. His contract expired last July, but he only received the national project in September.
Those two months drastically changed his fate. Packing his belongings into a cardboard box, he glimpsed a silver key — the spare key to his Beijing home, which still had millions in mortgage to pay off.
Leaving like this, many colleagues felt injustice on his behalf.
Years ago, Lin Ye joined the university under the traditional employment system, but three years ago, the university required him to sign a new agreement to be included in the “pre-appointment to tenure” system, as teachers under 35 were mandated. One of the conditions was securing a national-level project within three years.
However, securing a national-level project is no easy feat. Some teachers
spend their entire careers without achieving one. For instance, considering the National Social Science Fund, the national final approval rate for 2022–2023 was only around 13%. Wang Shuowang once estimated that starting from the university’s initial review, the application elimination rate for the National Social Science Fund exceeds 95%, with the approval rate for some disciplines being less than 2%.
Professor Jiang Kai of Peking University conducted a study on the tenured faculty system at eight universities in the United States. “Compared to Chinese universities, most American universities don’t have quantitative tenure evaluation requirements, such as the number of papers published, research projects, or funding amounts. Instead, they emphasize the normative nature of the evaluation process, and departments rarely require pre-tenure faculty to publish in specific journals for promotion.”
After the “pre-appointment to tenure” system was introduced in China, besides quantification, “its greatest specialty is uncertainty,” Wang Yue said. Particularly, some universities that didn’t strictly enforce the “pre-appointment to tenure” system in the early years suddenly started to implement it rigorously when they had more choices in faculty selection, using the agreement to justify their decisions, which left many teachers in a passive position.
“It’s like playing rock-paper-scissors where you win a large sum of money, but the rule is you have to throw first,” Lin Ye said. “The lack of standards is the scariest part. Vague standards or the ultimate interpretation of the standards being in someone else’s hands can be very unsettling.”
Better to Frankly Publish the Pass Rates
Another manifestation of the lack of standards is the mystery surrounding the specific pass rates of the “up-or-out” policy in Chinese universities. Those who are eliminated quietly leave, while those who succeed make the headlines. Universities have never openly addressed the pass rates.
However, young teachers applying for positions are very concerned about this. “Before I came to Guangdong, many teachers told me which universities to ‘avoid’,” said Fang Qing.
In the absence of official information, rumors abound through senior colleagues, social circles, and dinner parties, and the so-called insider information can be exaggerated.
After years of reform, Zhang Wen revealed that the final pass rate at her university is controlled at 50%, with a mid-term assessment pass rate of 70% to 80%.
“If classified by pass rate, Peking University and Tsinghua University are similar to foreign universities in their ‘pre-appointment to tenure’ system, strictly controlling the pass rate above 80%. In the middle are universities with pass rates around 50%. Some universities had lower pass rates in the past, only in single digits, and are currently undergoing reforms,” explained Zhang Wen. The setting of the pass rate depends on the university’s resources, current main contradictions, and closely relates to the leadership’s philosophy.
Compared to abroad, Jiang Kai told China Science Daily that the pass rates for tenure evaluations at most U.S. universities are between 80% to 90%. However, the life sciences, which faced a period of lower pass rates due to intense competition, led to excessive stress among teachers and drove many promising mid-career academics to leave academia for corporate jobs. “If there is a commonly accepted tenure evaluation pass rate in academia, it would help reduce excessive competition among pre-tenure faculty. A suitable rate would be above 85%.”
“The best way to dispel applicants’ doubts is for universities to openly disclose their ‘up-or-out’ pass rates,” believes Wang Yue. Rather than letting rumors influence teachers’ choices, it would be better for universities to frankly publish pass rates and allow for rational decision-making.
Taking Columbia University in the U.S. as an example, Jiang Kai noted that while they don’t directly publish ‘up-or-out’ pass rates, data on how many people apply for tenured associate professor positions and how many achieve tenure are publicly available on their website, making it possible to calculate the pass rate. However, “despite educational authorities requiring transparency in universities, data on the ‘pre-appointment to tenure’ system are not transparent on the websites of universities in China.”
“The key is to focus on the hiring process for teachers, rather than encouraging competition among pre-appointment faculty,” pointed out Jiang Kai.
Ye Zhiming observed the recruitment process for the ‘pre-appointment to tenure’ system while working abroad. “It’s a process of ‘strictly controlling entry,’ not the ‘flood irrigation’ approach seen in China. The department first lets candidates present, with available faculty members listening. Afterwards, the department head has lunch with the candidate as part of the evaluation. Every faculty member talks with the candidate, assessing everything from professional skills to character, to see if they can work together. The department then decides based on each teacher’s opinion.”
Imitating foreign practices, many domestic universities implement a “3+3” system in their ‘pre-appointment to tenure’ system. However, some universities have turned the mid-term assessment into an academic ladder. For example, the above-mentioned case of leaving early if a national-level project is not obtained within three years clearly does not align with the original intent of mid-term assessments at foreign universities.
Wang Yue explained that in mid-term assessments at foreign universities, if any shortcomings are identified, the college advises the teacher to improve, but usually gives them a second three-year term. Those who perform exceptionally well may end their appointment early and become tenured associate professors, which is not uncommon.
“For pre-appointment faculty, universities should not focus solely on utilization and selection, but also on cultivation,” Jiang Kai emphasized. Most North American universities have teacher development centers that provide professional services in teaching and other areas. Each teacher is also assigned a more experienced mentor from their department to support their professional development and academic career planning.
Young teachers at Zhang Wen’s university also experienced confusion. Subsequently, the school introduced measures to pair young scholars with two mentors, one for research and one for teaching, to help them develop better. “If a college truly wants to retain quality faculty, it cannot do so without cultivating young talents. Therefore, if we find that a college’s support is lacking, we restrict their staffing quotas.”
Zhang Wen understands the challenges faced by young academics who come and go, but “after all, this is a path that emphasizes ‘competition over fairness,’ and effort does not guarantee retention.”
“We all need a tolerant environment,” Zhang Wen sighed, “For young people, at least give them a chance to prove themselves over time; for universities, leave room for trial and error and exploration.”
《中国科学报》 记者 温才妃
(2024–01–16 第4版 高教聚焦)