Good afternoon and good evening, everyone. I sincerely thank the Chinese Canadian Forum for inviting me to speak with you today. It is a true privilege to share my story with such a warm, thoughtful, and peaceful Canadian audience.
I am a Chinese Canadian scientist specializing in nanotechnology. My journey began in a small rural village in China, where I developed a deep passion for science at a young age. After earning my PhD in Physics from the Chinese Academy of Sciences, I continued my academic path in Europe, conducting postdoctoral research in Spain and Germany alongside my wife, Yi Yang. I found great joy in working with people from diverse cultures. Outside the lab, I loved exploring local food, music, museums, and architecture—even though I never formally studied the arts or social sciences.
In 2004, my family and I moved to Japan, where we lived in Tokyo for over four years. It was there that my second son was born; my first son had been born earlier in Germany. In 2008, I pursued a second PhD in laser physics at the University of Waterloo in Canada. Two years later, in 2010, we decided to make Canada our permanent home. After four years, my wife, our two sons, and I proudly became Canadian citizens.
Throughout my career, I’ve maintained close friendships with my former colleagues. These relationships have laid the foundation for many successful international collaborations.
In 2013, I moved from Canada to the United States to accept a faculty position as an assistant professor at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville.
Let me now briefly summarize the wrongful prosecution I experienced.
On April 24, 2018, two FBI agents came to my office and questioned me about my research and international collaborations. At the time, I wasn’t afraid. I believed deeply in open science and the importance of international collaboration in advancing fundamental research. I had done nothing wrong. My work focused entirely on basic research—meant to be published and shared openly—and had no connection to national security. During the interview, they asked whether I was a member of the Chinese “Thousand Talents Plan.” I told them I was not. But they didn’t believe me. Instead, they placed me under covert surveillance.
Then, in the early morning of February 27, 2020, I was awakened by loud, forceful knocks at the door. Still, in my pajamas, I opened the door to find eight FBI agents standing outside. They barged into my home and arrested me on charges of wire fraud and making false statements. I was shocked and confused. I believed it must have been a terrible mistake. Yet, by the end of the day, I was in jail, and my university had suspended me from my position.
The government alleged that I committed wire fraud by failing to disclose an affiliation with a Chinese university on an internal University of Tennessee form. This form was not part of any grant application; it was part of an annual faculty review process. According to the UTK faculty handbook, I was not required to report short-term affiliations on that form. I had followed my university’s policies. Yet, I was charged with federal crimes, arrested, placed under house arrest, and separated from my family.
In June 2021, my case went to trial. It ended in a mistrial when the jury deadlocked amid concerns about FBI misconduct. Despite widespread public outcry—including from the Asian American community, members of Congress, and civil rights organizations—the government moved forward with plans to retry me. Finally, on September 9, 2021, a federal judge acquitted me of all charges, ruling that the evidence was insufficient for any reasonable jury to convict.
It’s important to recognize that my case was not an isolated incident. It was part of a broader pattern of wrongful accusations and racial profiling. Despite my acquittal, what happened to me reflects a dangerous trend in which scientists and researchers of Asian descent have been subjected to sweeping investigations, surveillance, and criminal prosecution under circumstances similar to mine.
The so-called “China Initiative” was originally intended to combat economic espionage and protect intellectual property. But in practice, it led to the unjust scrutiny of Asian American scientists—who were often treated as suspects simply because of their race, ethnicity, or ancestry. It created a climate of fear and suspicion within our communities and undermined the openness and collaboration that are essential to scientific progress.
In my case, the investigation began after an FBI agent found a website listing a summer seminar I had given in China. They used Google Translate to review the content and, based on that alone, launched an undercover investigation. For over a year and a half, the FBI surveilled me and my family. They followed me. They followed my college-aged son. After all that, they found no evidence of economic espionage—or of any criminal activity at all.
Let me emphasize: despite extensive surveillance and investigation, they found no evidence of espionage or wrongdoing.
The FBI demonstrated a fundamental misunderstanding of routine academic activities and criminalized legitimate professional interactions simply because they involved China.
For example, as part of my regular duties as a professor, I frequently review academic manuscripts for international journals—sometimes receiving several invitations a day. Among thousands of emails and hundreds of manuscript reviews, the FBI singled out one: a manuscript I reviewed for the Journal of Alloys and Compounds, a respected German scientific journal. The authors were professors from China. The FBI checked their affiliations and found their institution had links to military programs. I had no personal connection to them beyond reviewing their paper. Yet, based solely on their institutional affiliation, the FBI concluded I had a direct relationship with the Chinese military—an assumption that was completely baseless and absurd.
Another example shows how far the FBI stretched the facts. In 2019, I offered a graduate research assistantship to a Chinese student who had completed his master’s degree at the University of Florida and had already lived in the U.S. for three years. Before coming to the U.S., he had done a one-month internship at the Aviation Industry Corporation of China (AVIC), which appears on the U.S. Entity List. The FBI twisted this brief internship into a claim that I had offered a research position to an AVIC employee—as if I were knowingly collaborating with a restricted military entity.
These examples show how ordinary academic activities and professional relationships were distorted into the basis for unfounded accusations. My case highlights the dangerous consequences of racial profiling and the fear-driven misunderstandings that have harmed many Asian American scientists.
I will never forget the immense pain caused by this wrongful prosecution and the misconduct of the FBI.
The charges devastated every aspect of my life. Before my arrest, I had hoped to become a U.S. citizen and was awaiting my green card. I loved my work as a professor—teaching students and conducting research I was passionate about. But within hours, everything I had worked for was gone. The university suspended me without pay and later revoked my tenure. Overnight, I lost my job, my research, and my students.
Under house arrest, I struggled both physically and mentally. I have type 2 diabetes and require regular medical care, but for months I was not allowed to see a doctor or even step outside for fresh air. My house became a prison. Isolated from my family, my career, and the world, I sank into a deep depression. I questioned my decision to leave Canada, to move to the U.S., and to dedicate my life to scientific research in this country. It was the darkest time of my life.
But I refused to give up. I was determined to fight for my innocence—and for justice.
Reinstatement and the Lessons We Learned
After losing nearly two years of my life and career, I was reinstated to the faculty at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville, on February 1, 2022. Returning to work and resuming a normal life felt like starting over—a chance to rebuild and to heal. I consider myself fortunate to continue my career as a scientist and educator, something many others in similar situations have not been able to do.
Because of the prosecution, my green card application was delayed for years. But thanks to the unwavering support of my university and community, my green card was finally approved in March 2024.
Now, I am committed to speaking out—to share my story so that more people understand what happened and why the China Initiative was so deeply flawed. My hope is that, by telling the truth, we can prevent others from going through what I endured. But even today, there are still scientists and researchers caught in legal proceedings.
I am relieved that the U.S. government officially ended the China Initiative in 2022. I am deeply grateful to members of Congress and to organizations such as the Asian American Scholar Forum, the American Physical Society, Committee of 100 (C100), Advancing Justice – AAJC, United Chinese Americans (UCA), and APA Justice. These groups courageously spoke out against racial profiling and overzealous investigations. I am also thankful to the thousands of people—including many Canadians—who donated or signed the petition supporting me during my legal ordeal.
Looking ahead, I hope universities will recognize their responsibility to protect their faculty members and stand by them when they face unjust accusations. I also urge funding agencies to clarify their disclosure policies. Inconsistent guidelines have created confusion and unnecessary legal risks for many researchers.
Even though the China Initiative has ended, we must ensure that no one is ever targeted again because of their ethnicity, national origin, or international ties.
I am a victim of the China Initiative—but I am also a survivor. I want every American and Canadian to understand the value and contributions of Asian Americans, Asian Canadians, and immigrants. We are stronger as a nation when we stand together and learn from these painful lessons—so that injustices like this never happen again.
Thank you all for listening.
Disclaimer
Voices & Bridges publishes opinions like this from the community to encourage constructive discussion and debate on important issues. Views represented in the articles are the author’s and do not necessarily reflect the views of the V&B.