Final Watson report

I submitted this report to the Watson Foundation in early September, 2007:


5/20/2006
When I leave Berea in a few more days headed south, it will officially begin my 14-month stretch of homelessness. My final two months in the U.S. will be a practice run of sorts for living out of a backpack, being perpetually on the move, and packing in as much life per square minute as possible. I enter this moment with prayerfulness and requests for guidance. More than anything else, I want to live well, to walk through this world with love and courage, and to find purpose and understanding. For my part, I promise to listen carefully, to tread lightly, to cultivate mindfulness and compassion, and to be strong.


I appreciate the opportunity to write this summary, as well as our presentations at the Scripps conference; both have provided me with a good excuse to go back through my journal and reflect more critically upon this incredible year I have just completed. My journal entries reflect a roller-coaster of emotion and experience; moments when I felt I could burst open, unable to contain my joy, and times when my heart was so heavy I thought I might sink. Since the first time I heard of the Watson Fellowship, I wanted this opportunity more than just about anything else I could think of; and yet, as a mentor chided me shortly after winning it: “God sometimes punishes us by answering our prayers.”


Some time later, a few days before I would leave the U.S. to begin my fellowship year, I was sitting on my roof with a friend, watching the stars and sharing some celebratory beers. He asked what I wished for now that I had been handed this fantastic opportunity. I answered that what I wanted most out of my life was simply to understand it, and to be in love. I realized in that moment that the true reason I had longed for the Watson experience was not primarily because of the prestige, the money, the travel, or honestly even the opportunity to devote my time and energies to a long-standing interest, it was because it offered me the chance to spend a year walking the Earth, unfettered by responsibility or personal connection, trying to understand my life and learning what it means to be in love. I got exactly what I prayed for.


Fast-forward to a few weeks ago, only days before the Scripps conference, I was sharing a meal with a newfound friend who had herself undertaken a Watson fellowship a few years prior. She has kept up with several former Fellows, and noted with some irony how emotionally and spiritually jarring the experience had been for many of them, that some of her Watson friends seemed to be left in sort of a limbo they had not yet fully recovered from. And now here I sit, back in New Delhi in my rented flat, all the hubbub of the city just outside my window, going on about a life in this surreal environ which so overwhelmed my senses and sensibilities only one year ago. Contradictions still abound, more complicated questions arise each day, and yet I feel a much greater willingness to, as Rilke has suggested, live my way into the answers.


In a few more months I will likely leave India (though I doubt I will ever be finished with it), and I will return home to Florida to be near my family, become rooted in a community again, and slowly re-engage in some of the political-intellectual projects I left behind, albeit with new insights and motivations gained in this time abroad. In general, I feel much more at ease and almost aimless than at just about any other time in my life; I feel less self-imposed pressure to achieve, less certainty about what the world needs and what my place is in it, and am overall simply less optimistic of a favorable outcome for humankind. At the same time, I feel more adventurous, confident, grateful, and serene than I probably ever have. Contradictions abound.


It has been most interesting trying to explain to people I met on my travels, as well as to my working class family who had never even heard of a “fellowship,” what exactly I have been up to these past twelve months. Most of the time I would tell them that I was exploring a wide range of issues related to science, technology, environment, and development in an Asian context. “That seems like a lot,” was usually the response. Yes, indeed it was. Yet as I discussed in my presentation at Scripps, the aspect of the Watson experience I most appreciated was the opportunity to pursue my curiosities and instincts wherever they led me, to basically be an intellectual sponge and just soak in as much as possible. I also had the freedom, once I was properly saturated, to drop out for awhile and take some long, quiet walks, to be left alone with my thoughts and reflect upon what I had learned. This experience has profoundly influenced my thinking about the purpose of education and the processes of pedagogy.


What I learned about myself in the process is how much I value community, and public scholarship, and how fascinating I find the confluence of economics, ecology, politics, metaphysics, and epistemology in modern-day struggles related to development. Conflicts around what constitutes progress, around who wins, who loses, and who decides, are everywhere apparent throughout Asia as these nations industrialize in a much-compressed time frame and in a wholly different global context than the West underwent. In each of the diversity of situations I encountered, I witnessed some common themes, centered on the de/valuation of certain groups of people and certain ways of knowing, and on processes of ex/inclusion based upon these valuations. I learned how important it is that we ask the right questions in formulating development objectives, and how those questions are shaped by the processes employed and the interests involved.


Yet when I look back upon my original research proposal it is difficult not to feel as though I failed in some important ways. My proposed topic was not only overly-broad, it set me up to spend far too much time enmeshed in books and scholarly pursuits rather than the fantastic environs in which I found myself. I also misjudged the extent to which my diffidence would be magnified in such a foreign context, how time-consuming dealing with basic logistical issues would be, and how exhausting it would be to have to seek out not only mentors and resources, but also companions. Hence I struggled with feelings of purposelessness, irresponsibility, and alienation throughout my fellowship year. Especially after spending a few days with the other returning Watson fellows and hearing more about their projects, observing how easily they navigated social situations and how rooted they were in their research topics, I could not help but feel as though this opportunity had perhaps been wasted on me. But then, as I have realized most fully these past months, we are always simultaneously failing some challenges and overcoming others.


The extremes of poverty, oppression, and environmental degradation I witnessed during my travels were also unsettling, to say the least. What was equally unsettling, in some respects, was my ability to acclimate, to go on about my day in the midst of such affliction. Some days as I sat eating a meal that likely cost the equivalent of some worker’s full day’s wages, I tried to reason with myself as to why I should not just go empty my bank account and distribute my Watson funds to NGOs or even some random poor person on the streets. In the final analysis, reason had a lot less to do with my decision than the fact that I was thoroughly enjoying the meal; instead I moved on to pondering what invisible barrier was keeping people in situations of such desperate poverty from resolving matters violently. I harbor no illusions that they deserve their circumstance in life any more than I do.


Another issue I struggled with was being cut off from my community, and this experience more than perhaps any other confirmed the importance of that facet of my life. Despite the Foundation’s admonitions, from time to time I did find myself devoting significant energies to communicating with my people back home. I maintained a detailed travel log of my adventures (mostly focusing on the more cultural/touristy aspects of it which I thought they would find interesting) and tried to keep up with the happenings in the people’s lives that I love. These efforts were richly rewarded, and I am learning that the relationships in my life are more important than probably anything else—more than accomplishment, material gain, or even some sort of generalized sense of “saving the world.” Instead, I am finding that my relationships both encompass and transcend all these areas, as I look to the people that I love for intellectual stimulation, guidance, material as well as emotional support, and even a sense of community that propels me to want to make the world a better place. I feel that in some sense, several of my loved ones accompanied me on the trip, offering support and guidance, and, even if only virtually, engaging in this learning endeavor that I had undertaken. I am all the more thankful for their presence in my life now and do not feel that our semi-regular communications distracted significantly from my experiences.


All these lessons have led me to this present moment back in India, examining a variety of the country’s development objectives on the basis of processes of exclusion and inclusion, as well as the formulation of holistic, participatory indicators of progress. I am already seeing some ways in which this ongoing work will influence my pursuits once I return home in a few more months. As I alluded to earlier, I am not optimistic my efforts will be successful. In short, I have a more articulated vision now than ever before for the sort of world in which I would like to live; at the same time, I have less optimism that it will actually be realized, and to a degree, less of a sense of responsibility or attachment. But what I also realize more fully now is that it is the effort, the process, which is most important. At some point during my Watson year, one of the many friends I carried along in spirit shared the following quote with me: “I wake up every morning torn between a desire to savor the world and to save it. This makes it rather difficult to plan my day.” The tension between those two poles has truly frustrated me over the years, and yet I feel closer to resolving it now than ever before.


I will close with a few specific recommendations for the Watson Foundation, for whatever they are worth. As I have already mentioned, I struggled a lot with justifying this experience and these resources in light of all the pressing needs I encountered, and part of me would like to see the Foundation fundamentally alter its course and begin using its resources to more directly address those needs. I think of how many hungry mouths could be fed, how many degraded landscapes restored, with the resources that are instead being devoted to supporting globe-trotting, novel experiences for a mostly over-privileged group of youngsters. On the other hand, I clutched so greedily to my own Watson experiences that it seems profoundly hypocritical to even entertain such a suggestion. Provided that the Foundation continues in basically the same direction, here are a few other suggestions which I hope you will take into consideration:


Increased material support.
This issue came up at the conference. Of course, people’s experiences varied pretty dramatically depending upon where their fellowship took them, but whether or not the Foundation increases the actual amount of the stipend, it should definitely consider a variety of ways in which it might increase other forms of material support. For instance, since every fellow will have to pay taxes on their stipend and purchase health/travel insurance, and overlooking either of these might lead to significant detriment, the Foundation could simply agree at the outset to take care of these costs, similar to what it has done with our student loan expenses (much appreciated, by the way!). Alternately, the Foundation could provide fellows with a list of resources suggested by previous classes, such as couchsurfing, which might help stretch their resources further and/or provide valuable contacts.


Greater “fellowship.”
Though I can appreciate the Foundation’s emphasis on students immersing themselves in the cultures they choose to visit, I do not necessarily agree that walking into a situation with minimal familiarity is generally the best way to do so. When I passed through Mumbai for a few days, I think that my experience would have been enriched immensely by meeting up with another fellow who had been there for several months and could have helped me navigate my surroundings, recharge, and get to know parts of the city that I would likely miss otherwise. Similarly, when other fellows passed through Delhi, or Beijing, I was able to inform them based on my own experience whether or not they were being ripped off for accommodations, the easiest way to get around, etc. Such networking could be facilitated, and with little real distraction for the fellows, through the use of social networking websites such as Myspace, Facebook, or any number of online travel logs.


Even greater freedom of movement.
I do not know whether it is simply well-intentioned caretaking or some sort of legal/fiscal responsibility which leads the Foundation to limit their fellows’ choice of destinations, but I sincerely hope you will revisit this policy. We are all aware that significant threats to fellows’ safety and wellbeing exist everywhere, and that the U.S.’s designation of which countries are safe to visit has at least a little bit to do with politics. Some of the most so-called dangerous locales in the world today are also some of the most fascinating, and if the fellows can make a compelling case that they have adequately considered safety issues and have a sound plan of action, they should perhaps be allowed to proceed. Besides, denying fellows access to some places while simultaneously providing so little day-to-day oversight can too easily translate into them visiting these places surreptitiously, and with no foreknowledge or support from the Foundation.


And on that note I will close. My sincerest thanks to the staff at the Watson Foundation office. Though our contact was infrequent, I appreciated knowing that you were always only a phone call away, as well as the little things you did to enrich our year, such as the excellent feedback on our quarterly reports and well-wishes around the holidays and our birthdays. All the best with this year’s group of Fellows, and as an Australian tour guide once told me, “May you dream of places you’ve never been, and visit places you’ve never dreamed of.” A dubious benediction indeed.


People, like places, assigned borders and designations.
Governed by law?
Fragile yet enduring. Dynamic terrains acquire unique yet familiar contours, shaped by forces not entirely known to them.
Built layer upon layer, histories buried and unearthed. Futures uncertain and yet seemingly predestined.
Emergence, potentiality.
And we pass through these alien landscapes, sometimes as a ghost, sometimes with the force of a hurricane, but always, always taken with what we see.
An entire life’s devotion and I could still not fully know even one. And yet as I stare into the sea, the skies, another’s eyes, they sing back a song of myself.

3rd Quarter Watson report

I submitted this report to the Watson Foundation in early May, 2007:

Namaste, Watson people, aap kaisa hain? Greetings from New Delhi, my new home base and the final destination of my Watson year. I have been here for a little over a month now, arriving at the tail end of Delhi’s most pleasant season—a much-too-brief interval between “the hot, the wet, and the cold.” So spring has now sprung, gracing us with flowering bougainvillea and palas, but also besieging us with daytime temperatures routinely reaching 108 degrees. Fortunately, the good folks at the Centre for Science and Environment (CSE) have offered me a place in the shade—a small desk in the corner of their basement, a fan, an internet connection, and unfettered access to their library, staff, and ongoing seminars.

I feel like a very lucky fella. Last August my eyes were new to Asia, and still fairly new to the harsh realities of the industrializing world, and truth be told I remember questioning whether this place was really where I wanted to spend nearly half of my Watson year. But those eyes must have been misplaced somewhere amidst the hustle and bustle of Beijing or Hong Kong, Hanoi or Phnom Penh; this time Delhi seems exciting, alive, magical, even in spite of the withering heat. And though all the problems I left behind remain, this time I have begun to root myself in a community of people who are facing them head-on. I have comrades and mentors in Delhi, friends that I enjoy spending time with, and an overwhelming array of opportunities to truly engage with foreign cultures. Some days I think I could stay here forever.

Quite a contrast with how I was feeling just a few months ago. I do not know what it was about Kuala Lumpur (KL), perhaps I was just spoiled by my experience in Hong Kong, but something about the city felt incredibly inhospitable to me. Maybe it was the disdain for pedestrians or the difficulty with finding reasonably-priced accommodations; or maybe it was that the city felt very segregated and insular, but within just a few weeks there I was ready to move on. One day as I was searching for housing I came across an ad for a small, inexpensive apartment in the sleepy beach town of Lumut. It seemed terribly impractical at first glance, but the more I considered it the better an option it became. I had not had much luck in terms of contacts in KL, and most of the resources I wanted access to were in print or available on-line. Besides, Lumut was only a short bus ride away from KL if things did change. But perhaps most of all, I felt myself in need of some quiet time, a chance to reflect and take some long brooding walks on the beach.

I know we are supposed to be fully immersed in our Watson year, but it was inevitable, especially for a hyper-planner like me, that as I crossed the half-way point thoughts of home and what comes next would begin creeping in. I needed an opportunity to just step back from the whole experience, to reflect upon what I had learned so far and to consider where this path might be leading. So I spent several weeks in Lumut, quietly engaged in reading, writing, and sorting through my thoughts. Of course, Malaysia was not all seclusion. I visited Putrajaya, Malaysia’s in-progress administrative capital; an experiment in hyper-modern Islamic architecture, green design, and urban planning. I also rounded off my Asian megalopolis tour by visiting Singapore, and attended the largest Hindu festival in Southeast Asia, and probably one of the largest in the world: Thaipusam at KL’s Batu Caves. And somehow I found myself adopted by the Chinese-Malay family who rented me the apartment in Lumut, but who absolutely could not conceive of why a feller would want to spend all that time alone out there. They insisted that I come visit them for a few days at Chinese New Year, and bowled me over with that Chinese notion of hospitality that I have so grown to adore.

Then when it was all said and done, I found my way onboard a freighter boat bound from Malaysia’s Port Klang to Nhava Sheva, the port of Mumbai. As I mentioned in my last report, I am no fan of air travel and have avoided it wherever I could. Given the off-limits terrain between Malaysia and India however, I had nearly resigned myself to what seemed like the inevitable. Then a friend informed me of this rather eccentric and under-utilized mode of transport, and as it turned out there happened to be a 200 meter, 24,000 horsepower container-ship headed in just the right direction at just the right time. M/V Kota Pertama was her name, and her German/Filipino crew seemed quite happy to entertain a lone human passenger amongst the thousands of containers they were hauling across the Malacca Straits and Indian Ocean. So for seven days and nights I rocked to the rhythm of the ocean, watching it change colors and demeanor like moods, communed with the wind, and tracked the movements of the sun, the moon, and the night sky like close friends. Sitting perched atop the ship’s bow for long stretches, I watched countless flying fish glide across our path, and laughed like an excited child as entire pods of dolphins played chase with the ship—streaking ahead of us like little blue torpedoes. When I wasn’t busy being enraptured, I read, wrote, and slept my fill, studied Hindi, and whiled away the evenings watching movies or drinking German beer and listening to age-old bluegrass tunes with cantankerous seamen.

Upon arrival in India I spent a few days in Mumbai, finding my land legs again and visiting the Bhaktivedanta Institute. BI is a Hare Krishna-affiliated research institute that considers itself to be at the forefront of “consciousness studies,” and particularly a consciousness-based approach to the questions of modern physics. A short train ride later and I was back “home” in Delhi. I showed up in Greater Kailash Part 1, at the ground floor of house number C-96, early one March morning, where I found the familiar Mr. Gupta and Vishnu (along with a new tenant, a Libyan computer programmer named Mohamed) waiting to greet me. Though I have very much enjoyed this incredible loop around Asia, I cannot adequately express how comforting it felt to unpack my bags for (almost) the last time. I always suspected that I had some homebody tendencies, a deep-seated, even if somewhat repressed, need for community; but these last several months have confirmed and strengthened those longings in a big way. I know now that once I am finished here in Delhi, regardless of what else I do, I am going to be headed back home to Florida to just sit still in one place again for a lengthy spell.

But for now, Delhi continues to work its magic on me. There have been some exciting developments at CSE in my absence, including the opening of a new research and advocacy unit (Natural Resource Management & Livelihoods), as well as a new educational facility (Anil Agarwal Green College), and my friends in the Environmental Education Unit have begun work on a new project which is also quite interesting to me. Called the “Green Habitat Manual,” it is an exercise in participatory, sustainability-based research which brings together students, educators, and community members in an effort to assess and track the state of their local environment. I am currently working with the project coordinator, Ashish Shah, to come up with a model set of indicators that reflect both environmental quality and human development and would be accessible at the local level. I feel very fortunate to be involved with this project, as it brings together several of my core interests. The funny thing is that the project is brand new and has only begun in the few months since I first visited CSE—quite a synchronicity! The folks here are also intrigued by my experiences throughout the rest of Asia, and have been asking me to write short articles and give brief presentations on a variety of issues facing the region. And finally, I have open access to workshops and courses that CSE organizes, like the “Towards Green Villages” workshop that I took part in a few weeks ago. This workshop was an excellent opportunity to visit some rural areas and learn more about issues of ecological poverty, grassroots management of natural resources, and participatory research. Since all of my classmates were Indian scientists and development professionals, it was also a great chance to make some contacts with people outside of Delhi, who I will hopefully get to visit in the coming months.

I generally spend a few days per week at CSE. Otherwise, I have been working under the tutelage of Dr. Irfan Habib of India’s National Institute of Science, Technology, and Development Studies. Dr. Habib is an important author on history and sociology of science here in India, and is also very well-connected to other scholars with whom I share interests. I check in with Dr. Habib regularly, at which times he usually drops some great books into my lap and informs me of interesting lectures and other opportunities. Otherwise, I have been continuing with my Hindi study, which is enjoyable despite my rather slow rate of progress.

So all in all, Delhi is shaping up to be the pinnacle of my Watson year. Having several friends who were at one time Watson fellows and hearing about their experiences, I was initially concerned that I might be feeling a bit burnt by this point in the trip. But a few weeks ago as I found myself eagerly checking the Watson website to see if my Berea friend Fred Rweru would be one of this year’s winners, I was reminded of a March morning a year prior when I had stopped by a Miami public library to check email and learned that my life was about to take a very interesting turn. After getting a few disapproving looks for breaking the library’s code of silence with a raucous “whoop, whoop!” I stepped outside to just lie in the sun and give thanks. More than a year later I remain so excited that most days I still pinch myself just to make sure this is not all a dream.

2nd Quarter Watson report

I submitted this report to the Watson Foundation at the end of January, 2007.

Back in October when I last checked in, I was starry-eyed and infatuated with Beijing, mixing seamlessly with Chinese and international scholars and activists and feeling as though I could truly make a home for myself there. I spent my remaining few weeks in Beijing enjoying the sights, making preparations for my Hong Kong stay, and wrapping up my survey of the Beijing environmental NGO sector. I had been feeling a bit frustrated however because I had amassed a significant amount of information and analysis, yet was not sure what purpose it might serve beyond my own edification. Fortunately, I met a few other young Western scholars towards the end of my stay that shared my interests, and was able to provide them with a summary of my work and contacts that they might find useful.

In the process I realized how pretty much my entire life to-date has been geared towards being productive, and that one of the strangest aspects of this whole Watson experience is that no one is really asking me for any sort of a concrete outcome. I remember, early on, turning to one of my mentors and asking him what he thought I should try and do with the experience and resources that I had just been handed. His advice was that I should walk through the world with my eyes and ears open, engaging in as rich an experience as possible and reflecting upon what I observed. Beyond that, he said, I should not concern myself too much with what comes out of it—as what will surely emerge is a more knowledgeable and experienced person, one who is likely much more capable of both producing and discerning what it is that needs to be produced. Wise words, but as with any good advice, easier said than done.

I spent about a week traveling from Beijing to Hong Kong, and took the opportunity to visit a few smaller cities along the way. As in much of the developing world, the gap in living standards is quite extreme between urban and rural areas, and China has, by its own pronouncements, perhaps the largest such gap. Having spent a couple months being struck by Beijing’s dizzying heights, my little excursion was certainly a strong reminder of the many challenges the nation faces on the path to development, especially on the environmental health front. The contrast was even more striking upon reaching Hong Kong, which is probably the wealthiest city in Asia that I have visited thus far.

Long a home to Westerners, Hong Kong was quite easy to navigate and I fell into a rhythm there almost immediately. Civic Exchange, an environmental and pro-democracy NGO that a friend introduced me to, was more than willing to take full advantage of my past NGO/research experience and to satisfy my desires to be productive. They put me to work examining local discourse around Hong Kong’s air quality, an issue of serious and ongoing contention which has involved the scientific community, local government, and civil society. Since air quality is a continuing focus, there was a variety of different research possibilities and they allowed me a high degree of autonomy. I ended up spending a significant chunk of my time surveying the minutes from meetings of Hong Kong’s Legislative Council. LegCo, as it is called locally, is one of Hong Kong’s primary governing institutions since the British handover in 1997. The fascinating thing about reading through the reports from LegCo’s meetings is that I really got a feel for Hong Kong as its own unique entity under China’s “one country, two systems” policy. I observed how significantly the city differs from the mainland, and how it has grappled with a range of issues—environmental, social, and political. On the environmental front, Hong Kong has actually made some substantial and quite progressive strides in recent years—often using the European Union as a model for its efforts. Unfortunately however, pollution does not recognize borders, and as Hong Kong has cleaned up, the neighboring Shenzhen "Special Economic Zone" in mainland China has become a highly-polluting "factory to the world." Most of the rest of my time at Civic Exchange was spent examining Hong Kong’s legislative efforts to ameliorate air pollution, and increasingly, its cooperative exchanges with Shenzhen on this front.

When I was not busy “being a geek,” as my roommates so aptly put it, I was getting to know my latest geographical crush. Hong Kong is one of the loveliest cities I have ever spent time in, and certainly the nicest in Asia, and kindled in me a growing interest in envisioning sustainable urban landscapes. This interest is no simple academic exercise, either—according to a recent report issued by the Earth Policy Institute, 2007 marks a significant turning point in human history, as we become, for the first time, a predominantly urban species. China and India, as well as many other industrializing nations, are struggling to meet the needs of their rapidly growing urban populations as people flood into the cities seeking employment and a better way of life. Given its geography and history placing it at the crossroads of East and West, Hong Kong has evolved into a truly unique urban entity. With dense human habitation (around seven million people squeezed into a little over 100 square kilometers), excellent public transit, a tropical climate, lots of green space, and countless cultural amenities, it is a veritable metropolitan paradise in some respects, at least by my reckoning.

Being more of a small town kind of fella in my past life, I remember early on looking at my overall itinerary for this year abroad and wondering if I was going to be able to survive such an intense urban experience. But as I move through it, I have to say that my thoughts about cities and about urban living are changing, and Hong Kong has played a pretty big role in that. Of course, one downside to such attractive settings is that they can be quite expensive places to exist, and that is certainly the case with Hong Kong. After a little over a month there, I was richer in experience, but also poorer in the pocket, and it was time to move on to Southeast Asia.

Partly due to environmental concerns, and partly because I simply find it to be a more enriching way to travel, I prefer to utilize overland routes wherever possible. As mentioned above, I did so from Beijing to Hong Kong and found the experience quite rewarding. Emboldened by that first endeavor, rather than fly directly from Hong Kong to Malaysia I chose instead to spend a couple weeks making the trip overland. This itinerary brought me through Vietnam, Cambodia, and Thailand using a variety of transportation modes including train, bus, boat, car/minibus, motorcycle, and even bicycle. Along the way, I made a few quick stops to take in some sights, but mostly just spent long days staring from windows at stunning landscapes and a wide variety of lifestyles. The trip was a nice change from what had been a hectic pace of life in Hong Kong, and provided me with plenty of time to catch up on some reading and reflect upon my experiences thus far. But it also provided further insights into environment-development struggles taking place in the region, especially given the significant human and natural calamities that these countries have witnessed within my lifetime. Further, Cambodia and Thailand were my first window into Theravada Buddhist culture, as my experiences to-date have exposed me only to the Mahayana school.

Since arriving in Malaysia, I have been reconnecting with my research partners, trying to find an affordable place to live, and just getting to know the place a bit. Malaysia is the first Muslim country I have ever visited, and the sizable Indian and Chinese communities here also make life much more interesting. Though I thoroughly enjoyed the experience at Civic Exchange in Hong Kong, I have decided to forego further NGO involvement, at least until I get back to India. This decision was a difficult one to make, especially given my ongoing struggle with feeling like I need to be useful and productive, but ultimately I decided to make this period more academic rather than activist-focused. Both the University of Malaya’s Science and Technology Studies department and the Malaysian Academy of Sciences have a lot of interesting resources to offer, resources which I am certain will keep me well-occupied. In addition, I would like to begin giving some serious attention to Hindi study, and between some online resources I found and the Indian Malay community, I should be able to do that.

I am also happy to announce that I think I might have narrowed the focus of my research to a somewhat more manageable topic. In my initial proposal I referenced Yale University’s Environmental Sustainability Index. As I have continued my research, and particularly as a result of my experiences in China, I am becoming increasingly interested in this and other approaches to defining sustainability and developing indicators of sustainability at the local, regional, and national levels. Such indicators incorporate social as well as environmental measurements and therefore serve as an important nexus between science and culture. I have learned that in a wide range of nations, quantitative yet holistic indicators are increasingly being explored as an alternative, or at least supplement, to traditional measures such as GDP (e.g., China’s “Green GDP”). Additionally, a contemporary and influential Indian thinker I have come across has formulated a proposal to build a nationwide network of schoolchildren, all involved via their curricula in gathering local information which could be compiled into a national indicators effort. Following up on this proposal will hopefully comprise the bulk of my partnership with Delhi-based Centre for Science and the Environment upon my return to India in a few more months, and I am currently in discussion with my contacts at CSE about this idea.

I was fortunate to have dinner recently with my fellow Berean and Watson winner Isaac Bingham and his wife Alice on their way out of Malaysia. In some ways Isaac and I, as well as our proposals and overall Watson experience thus far, are about as different as could be imagined. For a minute I even found myself questioning how it is that we are both recipients of the same grant. But listening to Isaac talk about his experiences and observing how animated we both were in describing our passions cleared up any doubts. It also helped me to see how transformative this adventure is, and the importance of simply being immersed in it rather than preoccupying myself so much with the longer-term implications. I look forward to our Watson gathering this summer and to hearing more about how others have grappled with these same struggles, and have been set alight by being given this incredible opportunity.

1st Quarter Watson report

I submitted this report to the Watson Foundation in late October, 2006.

Last night I was sitting in on an “environmental English” class held at the office of the Global Village of Beijing—founded in 1996, it is one of China’s oldest environmental NGOs. Towards the end of class, the teacher asked me to give an impromptu “speech” about my background and research interests. When I had finished, an environmental journalist named Ling Hua asked, “When you say ‘sustainability,’ do you think that means something different in your country than in China?” I responded that, indeed, her perceptive question is a pivotal facet of what I am trying to figure out myself, then gave the class an overview of an insightful book I have been reading by Indian environmental historian Ramachandra Guha (How Much Should a Person Consume?). And so it has gone these past three months, though I can hardly believe that I am already a quarter of the way through my Watson year.

From the moment I stepped off the plane in New Delhi, my jaw has remained in dropped-open position, and I have had to watch each step ever-so-carefully to keep from falling off this marvelously steep learning curve I am on. I began this trip feeling knowledgeable and self-confident almost to a fault, but along the way have had so many pre-conceptions about myself and the world challenged that I already feel, in some ways, like a very different person than the one who left behind the comforts of home only a few weeks ago. I have been both terrified and bold, homesick and liberated, brilliant and ridiculous, and every shade in between; probably the only sensations I have not experienced thus far are boredom or a lack of enthusiasm. On the Watson website, you say that “When they wake up in the morning most Watson Fellows ask themselves, What am I going to do today?” and that Fellows should be comfortable with that degree of freedom. Though I have not previously been offered such incredible latitude in life, I must admit that I have adjusted quite well. Thus far, the experience has been a wonderful mix of stimulating interaction and engagement, self-reflection, and communicating my lessons and joys with my wider community. I still do not possess too much of a sense as to where this whole experience is leading me, but I do know that whatever opportunities present themselves at the other end, I will be better prepared to take full advantage.

The learning began before I ever reached India, when I took advantage of a lay-over in London to meet and interview staff at the E.F. Schumacher-inspired NGO Practical Action, formerly known as the Intermediate Technology Development Group. There I spent two days digging through their extensive library, and interviewing their Policy and Programs Director and Development Education Manager, among others. Upon arriving in Delhi, I made contact with two of my primary Indian research partners—the government-sponsored think tank National Institute of Science, Technology, and Development Studies and the NGO Centre for Science and the Environment, the latter embroiled in a very interesting recent public debate with government and business leaders about perceived levels of pesticides in soda products. I also took care of some logistical issues such as securing a place to live when I return for a longer stay next March.

Almost immediately upon arriving, however, an old college roommate and fellow expat who has become something of a Tibetan studies scholar informed me that the Dalai Lama would be giving a several-day teaching at his residence-in-exile in McLeod Ganj (north India). So a significant chunk of my initial stay in India was devoted to somewhat of a crash course in Tibetan Buddhism. As I mentioned in my research proposal, understanding the philosophical traditions of a people is key to understanding their contemporary views on important issues such as science and sustainability. Tibetan Buddhism offers a particularly pertinent example of this intersection, as the current Dalai Lama has devoted significant time and resources to interacting with the Western scientific community, even issuing a number of statements on the relationship between spirituality and science and co-founding the think tank Mind and Life Institute.

From India I headed to Beijing, where I am becoming completely enamored with China’s culture and history and frequently wish I could break off a piece of myself to leave behind. As anyone who has been keeping up with world events must know, it is an incredibly exciting and fascinating time to be in China. The country is in the midst of significant upheaval on nearly all fronts, and you can literally observe tremendously important historical events taking shape right before your eyes. Were I a social scientist with an interest in taking up Mandarin, I would likely relocate here, as so many Chinese-Americans appear to be doing. I am sure that the near-perfect climate of autumn in Beijing must be playing a role in this newly-sparked love affair, and like a true feckless lover, I am readying myself to head south as the leaves change and the air turns crisp.

But in my first two months in China, I have been quite successful in accomplishing my research goals. Thus far, I have had volunteerships and interviews with important Chinese NGOs like Friends of Nature (China’s oldest environmental NGO), the Global Environmental Institute, and the Global Village of Beijing. I have helped spread the word about and organize FON’s “Beijing for Bikes” photo exhibit, helped with proofreading these organizations’ English-language publications, and been a teaching assistant at environmental English classes. As a result, I have been fortunate enough to get to know some of the pioneers of China’s environmental movement, as well as the scholars who are documenting it, and to learn firsthand about some of the pressing environmental challenges the country faces.

I also participated in a week-long “U.S.-China Science and Technology Policy Forum,” jointly organized by the Chinese Ministry of Science and Technology (MOST) and the George Mason University China Program. At this Forum, I was able to interact with and learn from a host of high-level policy-makers and academics, and took part in tours of several premier Chinese research universities and think tanks. Through these interactions, I learned much about how China’s scientific community interacts with the State, the government’s efforts (and shortcomings!) with regards to sustainability, and the evolving role that China’s growing civil society is playing in these affairs. Throughout it all, I managed to begin some basic Mandarin lessons (“Ni hao ma?” “Ma ma huhu, xiexie.” “Ni shi naliren?” “Wo shi mei guo ren.” “Fuwuyuan, qing zai lai yi ge.” “Wei sheng jian zai na lee?”), which I hope to complement with some more extensive Hindi lessons when I return to India. In a few more weeks, I will begin the second leg of my China stay, and will interact with some Hong Kong-based NGOs, as well as the Center for Applied Ethics.

Not to imply that I haven’t snuck in some fantastic sightseeing along the way, or that my fellowship has been without any sort of challenges or difficulties. One thing I realized fairly early on is just how broad my research topic is. I sort of knew that going into it, but this awareness has been reinforced by meeting plenty of scholars along the way who devoted years and significant intellectual effort towards understanding just one small piece of the overall big picture that I am interested in. So, while on the one hand it has been wonderful to be able to wake up and say “Today I am going to read about nanotechnology, or about Hindu bioethics, or about China’s scientific elite, or compare consumption patterns between the U.S. and various Asian nations…” my regular interaction with other scholars has reminded me of just how little I really know about any of these topics. I am optimistic that as I gain a clearer idea as to exactly where life is headed post-Watson, a sense of focus will also naturally begin to develop; but I am truly appreciating the opportunity to try and ascertain the lay of the forest before I really get to know any particular tree.

The language barrier has also been more significant than I had anticipated, and hence basic logistics take up more of my time than I would have guessed. While in India one can count on the educated elite being pretty fluent in English, that sure does not help when you are trying to catch a cab or pick something up from the store. The Chinese, on the other hand, seem every bit as obstinate about learning foreign languages as we Americans. I knew that ignorance of Mandarin would make life a bit more difficult here, but honestly, in many parts of the city it seems like a fella could starve to death for not knowing the language. Fortunately, I found a few helpful individuals, such as my Mandarin tutor, who is more than willing to move our classroom outdoors into the markets or restaurants, and who has some other English-speaking friends that are able to act as translators. A huge lesson though, and one I probably would not have found quite so surprising had I of spent significant time in a developing country prior to this trip, is just how much we Americans take for granted in terms of health, safety, and just basic conveniences. Like nearly every Westerner I have spoken with, I fell ill, most likely due to a mild case of food poisoning, in India. I am also becoming a gold medal finalist in what will surely be the hottest new competition in Beijing 2008: “Street-crossing in Hostile Urban Environments.”

But perhaps the most heart-wrenching challenge I have faced is simply coming to grips with the astonishing poverty I witnessed these past few months. Given who I am and where I come from, it has frequently been a real struggle for me to justify my existence out here in this world of such great need. So many people with so little, and me with relatively so much. Why do we each deserve our collective lots in life? As with so many of the other questions I set out with, I have not answered this one yet either, but I will certainly be interested to hear the other Fellows’ reflections. Perhaps the best response I can come up with thus far is that the lessons I am learning out here in the world will undoubtedly remain with me for the rest of my life, and will certainly shape my future course. And as I ask these sorts of questions aloud to my family, friends, and people I meet along my journey, hopefully, in some small way, I am already contributing to bringing into existence the sort of world I hope to see. Given all that I witnessed these past few months, it would be easy to become disillusioned or pessimistic about humanity’s future prospects. But perhaps, in the words of French author Antoine de Saint-Exupery, “As for the future, your task is not to foresee, but to enable it.”

Personal Statement for Watson Fellowship

“I will save the world from death, disease, and war. I will be the best scientist that ever lived. I will discover, design, and make things that will help mankind. I will help conserve water, electricity, and other things that are important to mankind. I will do all of this when I grow up...”

Jason Fults, age 9, “I Can, I Will” Essay Contest

June 12, 2005, 6:30am; Wombarra, Australia. Why Travel?

It is nearly dawn, my first morning back beneath the shadow of the Illawarra escarpment, but I have been awake for hours; quietly anticipating the moment I could slip out of bed and back onto these once-familiar shores, climb atop this rock on the other side of the planet and sing the Sun into waking. I love these spaces in between—between day and night, between sleep and waking, between being here and where I came from. It is in these spaces insight is revealed. I suppose the longing for insight is why I left home again—to remove myself from a familiar context, to peel away some layers and discover what lies beneath.

Admittedly I surprised even myself with this trip. The past three years working as a full-time organizer for the Student Environmental Action Coalition (SEAC) have been among the most unsettled of my life. At times I lived on the road, visiting one campus after another, one training, one conference after another—it was dizzying. No one could have blamed me for wanting to just stay put for awhile, to be comfortable and at home. Yet the sense that something important is happening inside of me is what drove me here—to be with myself again in this place I visited four years ago, to juxtapose my own inner landscape with the ever-changing, ever-constant sea. The insight will come, I am certain, there are many weeks ahead. For this moment though, calm is settling in, the ocean hums, the Sun awakens, I am here.

June 29, 2005; Sydney, Australia. My story.

Thirty years old—how did that happen? I was in the sixth grade when my mom—a waitress, two kids, recently divorced—turned thirty. I remember that year vividly; the year circumstances compelled us to move away from what had passed for stability—four years living under the same roof. Now we inhabited a duplex just on the outskirts of “The Highlands” in Lakeland, Florida, the so-called “rich” part of town. The banal, upper-class existence we witnessed there was a stark contrast to the working-class environs I had always known and I became aware of being “underprivileged” for perhaps the first time. School proved an inhospitable social environment for kids from my side of the tracks so I got my first job and began pursuing my own budding curiosities.

By age seventeen I was working full-time and nearly quit high school, but also began to develop a nascent political awareness, albeit mostly supplanted by the competing, self-destructive pursuits typical of many working-class adolescent males. When I wasn’t occupied by a soul-deadening job, I spent time at the library looking for some way out which I hoped might be found on a dusty, neglected bookshelf. By age twenty I had begun to find my own ways out. Short, cautious steps at first, like visiting friends who had successfully escaped our home town; then bolder moves: my first protest in D.C., hitchhiking trips cross-country, and joining the Job Corps—which brought me, indirectly, to the steps of Berea College.

What I initially intended to be a five-year degree at Berea was “interrupted” by a few years spent as a full-time grassroots organizer with SEAC. Unlike most of my classmates who seemed intent on plowing through their college experience as quickly as possible, I always felt that life experience supplemented rather than detracted from what we were learning in the classroom. My formal education changed my approach to political work, just as my evolving political analysis altered my conception of what it means to be educated. In retrospect it seems several lifetimes have passed between me and the kid who got dropped off by the Greyhound bus in Berea, Kentucky that drizzling February morning. No experience had yet stretched me, had yet nourished me the way Berea has. I co-discovered aspects of myself I never knew existed and learned the responsibilities that are entailed in being part of a community. At the same time, it becomes more apparent with each passing day that my tenure at SEAC changed how I experience the classroom. As if offering me a final opportunity to contemplate these experiences, the College has enabled me to return to Australia for an incredible internship with AID/WATCH and all that comes with it; reuniting with old friends and discovering entirely new aspects of this place, and sitting here sipping hot chocolate on the shore of Sydney Harbor, contemplating thirty years of life on this planet.

August 8, 2005; in bed. Asking the right questions.

Relaxing after a birthday party for one of my AID/WATCH co-workers which kept me out way too late. During a more lucid moment in the evening I had a good yarn with Tim—my internship supervisor—about our childhoods, becoming politicized, and the importance of asking good questions. One of AID/WATCH’s goals is to uncover and challenge assumptions embedded in economic and development ideologies. They assess how Australia’s foreign aid and trade policies affect the social and ecological environments of others. I discovered AID/WATCH four years ago when I last visited Australia and have been interested in the sorts of questions they were asking ever since. This lust for questioning must be the common thread drawing me both to scientists and to rabble-rousers. Different questions, different methodologies, but at the heart of both groups lies a passionate desire to get to the bottom of things.

As a student researcher in the Department of Energy’s Global Change Education Program I worked with top-notch scientists to predict how climatic change might affect deciduous forests. The prognosis was grim and this research fueled my efforts within SEAC to help build a youth movement for clean energy. While at SEAC and during my time with the Madison County Action Team in Berea we questioned dangerous assumptions embedded in U.S. energy policy and campaigned for changes at the local, national, and global levels. My internship with the Chemical Weapons Working Group—where we challenged the Environmental Protection Agency’s inadequate regulation of the carcinogen dioxin—instilled in me the importance of both using science as a tool for change and understanding how scientific and technological institutions function. These are lessons I will retain for the rest of my life and tools which I will continue to hone.

Everywhere I have been people look to the experts for direction—the doctors, the economists, the engineers. We often fail to recognize that while these experts may know much about a particular subject, they also come to the conversation with their own interests, ignorance, and ideological commitments. Further, many of the problems we look to experts to solve are not fundamentally technical in nature. AID/WATCH points out, for instance, that the problems faced by so many people in the developing world cannot be solved solely by the cadre of technicians Australia sends to their rescue, but instead demand a fundamental reordering of the power dynamics existing between the rich and the poor. Similarly, while my enthusiasm for the possibilities science offers remains high, my understanding of science’s role in society has changed dramatically. As I survey the world unfolding around me I am constantly reminded of dystopic novels such as Fahrenheit 451 and Brave New World in which science is used to enslave rather than to liberate. I am increasingly concerned that unless we get a better grip on relationships between science and culture, between the questions and the questioners, scientific progress is unlikely to bring us any closer to the sort of world we would like to inhabit and may do the opposite.

August 30, 2005; Land O’ Lakes, Florida. Looking ahead.

Back in the northern hemisphere and it feels wonderful to be home. I am readjusting to a new time zone and catching up with a nephew who turned two and a sister who started high school while I was away. Hardly anyone from my large family has ever left the southern U.S. They have a hard time understanding my yearning to “see the world,” as they say, but enjoy the travel stories, photos, and new recipes I always bring home. Throughout my stay my mind has wandered ceaselessly and I cannot stop thinking about graduation and my excitingly uncertain future.

My arrival at Berea was like opening a hidden door in a tiny apartment and realizing I had occupied but one room of a vast mansion all my life. My forays into public citizenship have been equally revelatory. It now appears obvious to me that my relationship with science has changed dramatically, yet before I rush off to graduate school I need to spend some time figuring out what those changes mean. Similarly, the perpetual motion of political work too often leaves little time for reflection. My commitment to the movement remains rock-solid yet I feel I have much more work to do understanding the complexities the future offers and figuring out how I can most effectively intervene in that future. What I most want at this moment is the opportunity to step back, take in the grand view of a yet unexplored physical and intellectual terrain, and further discern what I and the world can make of each other. This opportunity to cultivate one’s vision and to learn from the visions of others is exactly what a Watson fellowship offers.

I am eager to step into places significantly unlike my own to interact with other individuals engaged in the pursuit of scientific knowledge and environmental sustainability. I want to better comprehend how they perceive their work and what our exchanges tell us about the sort of future we can create. I also want to better arm myself for what will certainly be an interesting future whatever its outcome. I believe I have something to contribute to making this world a better place, and I think the nine year-old who set me off on this journey, his optimism and naiveté abounding, might still recognize something of himself if we could somehow meet again. There is a wide, old world awaiting and many important questions still in need of asking. I think this will be a fruitful year.

Watson Fellowship proposal

Ti-Yong (1): Perceptions of Science and Nature beyond the West


As a biology student I have been taught that scientific method is the most reliable process for understanding the natural world. As an environmentalist I have learned that science is by no means a value-neutral activity. When science is defined simply as “observation, identification, description, experimental investigation, and theoretical explanation of phenomena (2),” it is clear these activities have likely taken place in a wide variety of cultures throughout human history. What remains less clear are the ways and extent to which culture shapes our evolving conceptions of science. If science is to be relied upon as a tool for achieving environmental sustainability, it is imperative that we explore the tension between science as a source of knowledge versus science as a social construct deeply situated within a particular culture.


As someone trained in a particular scientific tradition, I can learn much about the nature of science by viewing it through another lens. Through a combination of independent research and personal interactions which take me outside of my cultural context, I hope to explore the science-culture symbiosis and discern its implications for addressing modern environmental crises. This examination will better prepare me for my future as an educator, scientist, and activist, and the knowledge gained will become increasingly important as human societies are forced to renegotiate their relationship with the biosphere.


The nations I am proposing for this inquiry—India, Malaysia, and China—are relevant because of their non-Western influences and their escalating importance in global markets and international scientific communities. In each of these settings science developed prior to significant contact with the West, yet each nation also offers unique opportunities to explore the tension between modernization and Westernization in a scientific context. The initial stages of my study, which are already underway, involve cultivating a deeper historical understanding of how, and why, the sciences developed in each of these contexts. I want to explore how indigenous scientific traditions contrast with Western notions of science, and how contemporary scientists view this contrast. More specifically, I want to examine these individuals’ awareness of science history and philosophy in their respective contexts, their interactions with international scientific communities, and their perspectives on the roles of science and technology in addressing environmental concerns. I intend to gain these insights through independent reading, but also more directly through observation and interviews with science practitioners, as well as science educators and students.


Important historical connections exist between cultural views of nature and epistemology; i.e., our view of nature informs how we might best gain knowledge about it. An increased understanding of history, culture, and popular conceptions of science should provide powerful insights into how bio-ethical concerns are both defined and negotiated within societal discourse. While there are numerous contemporary bio-ethical case studies which merit investigation, I have chosen these nations’ responses to environmental concerns as my primary comparative framework. This approach builds upon my previous research and organizing experiences while offering new insights on the pursuit of environmental sustainability. The three nations I have chosen also represent a significant range of success in the pursuit of environmental sustainability. For instance, Yale University’s most recent Environmental Sustainability Index ranks Malaysia 38, India 101, and China 133 out of the 146 nations examined. In the United States and elsewhere, such quantitative indicators are increasingly being relied upon to help guide individuals and policy-makers in assessing the efficacy of their decisions. These indicators incorporate social as well as environmental measurements and therefore serve as an important nexus between science and culture. Through observation and interviews with participants in environmental advocacy organizations in each of these nations, I will gain broader perspectives on the roles science and technology play in both ameliorating and exacerbating environmental crises.


India

Relatively little Western scholarship exists on the history of science and technology in India, as compared with much of the rest of Asia. Yet the Indian subcontinent has a long-standing tradition of scientific/technological development and cultural exchange. India is also home to incredibly diverse philosophical traditions, including ancient Hindu and Buddhist traditions, as well as one of the most sizeable Muslim populations in the world. As the world’s largest modern democracy and one of its fastest growing economies, India is poised to take center-stage in the 21st century. However, it will face many challenges along the way, including overcoming the poverty experienced by much of its population and the environmental and social consequences of rapid population growth and industrialization.


I would like to spend the first five months of my Watson year in India. A strong contact for the initial stages of my study will be the Centre for Studies in Science Policy (CSSP) at Jawaharlal Nehru University. The CSSP is a premier Indian research center which focuses on many issues germane to my interests. The CSSP is also well-situated within a university that has a strong emphasis on the physical sciences, and within New Delhi, the home of the Indian National Science Academy (INSA). INSA provides scientific advice to Indian governments and serves as a national and international scientific forum. The Academy also strives to “maintain liaison between science and humanities” and publishes the Indian Journal of History of Science. In addition, I have identified and corresponded with an NGO partner—the Barefoot College network. The Barefoot College utilizes over twenty campuses (3) throughout the country to address pressing local needs such as clean water, energy, and women’s rights, and employs the concept of appropriate technology (4) in its sustainable development efforts.


Malaysia

I would like to spend the following three months of my Watson year in peninsular Malaysia. Malaysia is a founding member, and one of the more developed, of the ten-member Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) (5). In addition, Malaysia is a charter member of The Organization of the Islamic Conference (OIC) (6). Through its participation in both ASEAN and the OIC, Malaysia is pursuing the formation of a more cohesive international scientific community. ASEAN is also working towards a regional approach to environmental challenges, via several Environmental Working Groups. Given the degree of ASEAN’s cooperation and the diversity of its member nations, it is a microcosm for the integration of diverse scientific traditions and multilateral approaches to environmental sustainability. As such, Malaysia serves as a unique vantage point for exploration of emerging global scientific and civil society communities. It also offers a perspective on how these communities are overcoming, and perhaps benefiting from, what have traditionally been cultural and political barriers to cooperation.
In addition to collaboration with Tata Energy and Resources Institute, whose Southeast Asia office is in Darul Ehsan, I would like to interview and observe scholars in the University of Malaya’s Science and Technology Studies (STS) department, which is unique due to its placement within the natural sciences faculty rather than the social sciences faculty as is found with most Western STS programs. My primary contact in the Malaysian scientific community will be the Malaysian Academy of Sciences (Kuala Lumpur), which facilitates Malaysia’s international scientific partnerships such as those found in ASEAN and the OIC.


China

I would like to spend my final four months in China, primarily Hong Kong and Beijing. Due significantly to the scholarship of Joseph Needham, in recent years Westerners have gained a better understanding of the history of Chinese science. Scientific development in China occurred with little Western influence throughout much of its history, and as such offers exciting opportunities for exploring interesting philosophical questions regarding the relationship between science and culture. Beyond purely philosophical objectives, China’s role in world affairs and the global scientific community, as with both India and ASEAN, is of increasing importance. China is also under significant scrutiny by much of the West, who view its environmental and human rights policies as deeply flawed (7). Given the size of China’s population and its growing industrial might, these issues can scarcely be overlooked.


My initial contact in China is the Global Environmental Institute, co-founded in 2003 with Worldwatch, who alleges it is “China’s first independent, knowledge-based environmental NGO.” In addition, I have been invited to collaborate with a Chinese NGO “Friends of Nature,” which is currently creating a “Green Exchange” program with the aim of facilitating information and resource exchange between Chinese student environmental groups and their international counterparts. I also plan to draw upon the resources of the U.S. Embassy’s “Environment, Science, Technology and Health Section,” which is located in Beijing and has researched China’s environmental policies extensively. Finally, the Center for Applied Ethics (Hong Kong) has expressed an interest in collaboration. An interesting backdrop to these interactions will be China’s preparations for the 2008 Olympics, particularly its efforts to meet the environmental standards required by the Olympic Committee.


In discussing his theory of special relativity, Albert Einstein acknowledged not only his colleagues in the scientific community, but also David Hume, a philosopher whose work helped Einstein to recognize the anthropocentric assumptions buried deep in Newtonian physics. As a nation which prides itself on being at the forefront of scientific innovation, we have much to gain from a citizenry which employs a more sophisticated and cosmopolitan understanding of how science operates. As citizens in a global society with finite resources, we have much to lose by failing to secure environmental sustainability. As a Watson fellow, I believe I can yield valuable knowledge through connecting these concerns, knowledge which will better prepare me for a life of public service and better prepare our society for the uncertain future ahead.


(1) Ti-Yong is a Chinese phrase reflecting ongoing debates about the possibility of importing foreign methodologies (e.g., technology) while maintaining traditional culture. Ti means "substance" or "essence" and yong means "function" or "utility." A popular phrase in this debate is "Chinese essence, Western utility," or zhongti xiyong.

(2) The American Heritage Dictionary, 3rd edition.

(3) Barefoot College is not an accredited university, but something more akin to a network of extension agencies like those found in rural areas of the United States.

(4) A phrase derived from Gandhian economic principles, appropriate technology utilizes ecological and social criteria to design technological solutions fitting the context in which they are utilized.

(5) ASEAN has a combined population in excess of 500 million, a GDP of $737 billion, and is working towards a significant integration of its member nations on nearly all fronts.

(6) The OIC is a 57-member international body which aims to “safeguard the interest and ensure the progress…of Muslims in the world over.”

(7) E.g., China’s low Environmental Sustainability Index rating; in addition, Freedom House’s 2005 “Freedom in the World” report ranks China as “not free.”