If you chose the year's top 10 news stories, undoubtedly the Lu Anni incident at NTU would be near the top. It started with charges of unfairness in a PhD program admission test. Then a series of fascinating riddles unfolded, including charges of sexual harassment by one professor, plagiarism by a second, and an affair between a student and her advisor. Leaving aside the question of what really happened, what we can be certain of is that university campuses today are far different from yesteryear. The traditional relationship in which a student "respected a teacher as much as his own father" has disintegrated. So what are the new ethics on campus today? How have they taken shape? What will their impact be on society in general?

In fact the process of change has been a long one, but we can note several recent milestones. First came the lifting of martial law in 1987 . Free speech expanded greatly, and there was a dramatic rise in "autonomy" in society. Overnight everyone seemed have something to say. The lifting of the ban on new newspapers and on expansion of existing ones brought greater competition to the media. Even the simple expansion of space to be filled meant that every incident became newsworthy, and in every controversy people looked to the media for public support.

Here is the situation today: Given the idea that "the public should be allowed to decide for itself," every viewpoint is aired, with the result that the main focus becomes obscured. Many people end up falling back on their subjective value systems, and in the end even the distinction between right and wrong is lost. When a controversy breaks out, all one sees is criticism and accusations, rarely much self-reflection. This trend has made it very difficult for a new order to take shape on campuses since the collapse of the authoritarian structure. Administrators, professors and students have little choice but to uncover conflicts and search for a new order by muddling through one incident after another.

The next great milestone in the creation of a new campus ethic was the University Law of January 1994. It gave students the right to form autonomous self-governing bodies, participate in campus affairs conferences, and evaluate professors. It turned students from simple, passive recipient of education into active shapers of education.

Not long after that a series of startling incidents occurred on campuses, including professors at National Taiwan Normal University and National Chung Cheng University being accused of sexual harassment, and fine arts students at Chinese Culture University boycotting classes and holding a hunger strike to protest the expulsion of a classmate and demand the resignation of the department chairman, the latter incident only ended when the Ministry of Education intervened to mediate. Such events drew concern about campus culture from scholars and experts. Calls came from many people to "respect the ethics of the teacher-student relationship" or to "work together to build a new campus culture." Nevertheless, in most social issues these days such appeals fade when the news story behind them comes to an end, and they are left to wait for the next controversy to be dragged out all over again.

The Lu An-ni incident became a strong focus of media scandal-mongering because of the juicy story line and the prominent family background of one of the lead characters. Yet it also appears to be a lost opportunity to go deeper and build a new campus ethic. At Sinorama we decided to go to the campuses and poll teachers and students.

We hoped to discover how much of the ancient "ethic of the teacher-student relationship" still exists in Taiwan today. Moreover, in circumstances where it now exists only in form, how have students and faculty adapted? How can the university be made into a central pillar for the cultivation of future leaders?

Yet, in our newly pluralistic society, even as we see teachers and students losing faith in the traditional teacher-student ethic, we can also discover more and more classes where children are being taught to recite the Chinese classics. Many parents, worried by declining social order and rising juvenile delinquency, think the solution may be a return to classic moral teachings. Believing these can only be implanted at an early age, many teachers and parents supported the founder of such classes, and over 400 have now sprung up throughout Taiwan.

Even more encouraging is that many teachers in Chinese language schools abroad are taking the same path, teaching the rhythmic Three Character Classic or Three Hundred Tang Poems, despite difficulties in getting materials. Many overseas teachers do this as a second job or voluntarily, while many kids only go because their parents require them to. Most such instructors are top-notch teachers who are able to inspire children to seek knowledge, let them learn in a fun and relaxed atmosphere, and allow them to learn to speak and write Chinese with ease. The next generation can thus emerge with a foundation in Chinese, and in the coming century of global interdependence and high-intensity exchanges between East and West, have an important intangible resource.

Another article worth our attention in this issue is "Architecture Down on the Farm." It is the dream-come-true for old farming babushkas, and also the dream world to which the urban middle class aspires. We watch as whole families work together with architects to design their homes in this "field of dreams." We see how the Ilan County government is cooperating with citizens to maintain and construct their home community, gradually returning it to meet human needs and making it again a "pure land."

There is still much I would like to write. Take for example our book review on Running Away to New Zealand-A Mother's Experiment in Education. Besides making many mothers envious, it raises the question as to whether we cannot offer our children a better choice. And as we are dazzled by the countless advertisements on TV and in print, how can we see through the ads to make the best choice for ourselves?

Finally, a reminder that 1 January will be Sinorama's 20th birthday. We have invited more than 100 long-standing subscribers, and even found some old friends whose connection with Sinorama goes back to January 1976-longer than any person working here! I want to let you know that I read every letter from these old readers over and over again . Our colleagues are preparing commemorative gifts for you. But no gift can adequately testify to the depth of feeling which stems from this long relationship. The only way we can repay our loyal readers is to accept your suggestions, and do our best to produce a fine magazine.