Over the weekend, Queensland University of Technology PhD student Xiaolong Zhu became national news – and . Zhu is a Chinese citizen, and his visa to study in Australia has been of being “directly or indirectly associated with the proliferation of weapons of mass destruction”.
The story begins in October 2019, when the university a scholarship to undertake a PhD in robotics. His research would focus on how drones navigate in urban environments without access to GPS.
But in June 2020, Zhu was told the foreign minister had ruled him a risk of proliferation of weapons of mass destruction, specifically missiles and rockets. That decision may be in part motivated by Zhu’s prior education at , an institution closely aligned with China’s military and a lead developer of ballistic missiles and stealth aircraft.
Zhu’s appeal is ongoing, and he has done nothing obviously wrong and has not been charged with or convicted of any crime. So why is his story such a big deal? Zhu’s case, the fifth in which a researcher has been barred from the country on suspicion of links to weapons of mass destruction, is just the latest outcome of Australia’s patchy and irregular approach to “research security”.
Australia’s approach to research security
Australia’s approach to protecting certain types of research from national security threats is inconsistent and out of step with that of many of our allies.
The , , , the and all have national policies on research security. Australia does not.
Instead, we have voluntary guidelines, first written in 2019 and updated in 2021. These guidelines were originally written before , the and the .
One of Australia’s biggest funders of university research – the Australian Research Council – has only just published a in the past six months. Our other major research funders, CSIRO and the ³Ô¹ÏÍøÕ¾ Health and Medical Research Council, don’t appear to have anything similar.
At the same time, most, if not all, Australian universities are increasingly in response to government cutbacks.
Blunt instruments
At present, the Australian government seems intent on using blunt instruments to regulate research security.
For example, the foreign minister can if a person poses a risk to security, fails the “good character” test or (as in Zhu’s case) is deemed to be potentially associated with weapons of mass destruction. Since April 2024, the foreign minister can also refuse or cancel visas if the person poses ““.
Such controls can be incredibly risky when universities are also facing on international student numbers, and where .
Australian university researchers also face . They must seek a permit if they share or publish military or “dual use” technology (, such as radar).
Many countries have similar controls, but the definition of “dual use” technologies can be incredibly subjective. In 2012, a Dutch researcher was after publishing influenza research that allegedly could have been used to make biological weapons.
Universities in Australia are also required to every arrangement with a foreign government entity. A recent study of these arrangements found a disturbing number of at our universities.
Disclosure doesn’t appear to stop . A parliamentary inquiry has even found the public register to be .
What Australia could be doing better
There has been a lack of consolidated action on research security.
Two years ago, a heard of sustained and repeated acts of foreign interference at our universities. To date, fewer than a quarter of the committee’s recommendations have been acted upon.
The of the Universities Accord, released this year – which Federal Education Minister Jason Clare “a blueprint for the next decade and beyond” – doesn’t mention research security at all. In fact, it mentions national security only three times in 408 pages.
Another problem is the complete secrecy surrounding these kinds of cases. Had Zhu not appealed, we might never have heard about it.
Neither the government nor the university made . And Zhu himself will probably never even know what information the minister considered to ban him. Instead, the government a variety of certificates to protect “lawful methods for preventing, detecting, and investigating breaches or evasions of the law” and “confidential sources”.
Where to from here
Australia could take some lessons from our allies.
, any federal funding involving a “sensitive technology” will be refused if it involves association with anyone on a list of specific organisations. In New Zealand, can be secured by the use of encrypted devices, security clearances, and keeping all research data offline. In the US, universities can be or even have their if they do not comply with disclosure rules.
That said, our universites are unlikely to welcome more regulation. Such rules may infringe on academic freedom – the protection of academics’ rights to .
Universities already complain they are one of the in the country. Worse yet, universities say could stunt our innovation and “leave us worse off”.
But these objections shouldn’t be the end of the story. In 2021, ASIO head Mike Burgess that “taking a sensible approach to national security risks shouldn’t stop [universities] from getting on with their core roles”.
Three years on, even discussion of this “sensible approach” seems to have fallen by the wayside. It needs to start again – or any “” might stall before it even gets started.