First and foremost, congratulations to all of you on successfully completing your studies at NYCU. Wishing you a very happy graduation! On this special occasion, I'd like to share three short stories with you.

Between Success and Loss

A few months ago, a journalist visited the College of Computer Science to interview me, not because of any personal achievements of mine, but because our students and alumni are truly exceptional.

According to statistics, 65% of the CEOs in Hsinchu Science Park are alumni of National Chiao Tung University. (Some of your classmates may one day join their ranks!) The journalist assumed that many of our students had gone on to start their own companies after graduation, which is why he wanted to interview me. But I told him, "In my nearly 15 years as a professor at NYCU, I've rarely heard of students launching their own startups after graduation. "He was genuinely surprised and asked, "Why is that?"

Let me explain. You might recall the civil examination system during the Qing dynasty, which included multiple levels: county, provincial, metropolitan, and finally, the palace exam. Candidates progressed through ranks—starting as xiucai (licentiates), advancing to juren (recommended men), and ultimately striving to become jinshi (presented scholars). Over the Qing dynasty's 270-year reign, the palace examination was held approximately once every three years, with the emperor himself presiding over the final round in the Hall of Supreme Harmony. On average, about 200 candidates passed each time, producing a total of roughly 24,000 jinshi throughout the dynasty. Among them, the top three scorers received special honors: zhuangyuan (first place), bangyan (second place), and tanhua (third place). Only 114 individuals ever earned the title of zhuangyuan—the highest academic distinction of the era.

These jinshi, the elite scholars of their time, almost all went on to serve the emperor. Yet when I asked the journalist to name one zhuangyuan (first-place winner), he couldn't think of a single one. In contrast, nearly everyone has heard of Hong Xiuquan, the leader of the Taiping Rebellion. He failed the provincial exam four times and never even achieved the rank of xiucai. And yet, he later declared himself emperor and came close to toppling the Qing dynasty. Even the Qing's elite Eight Banners troops couldn't defeat him. It was only through the efforts of regional armies led by Han Chinese generals such as Zeng Guofan and Li Hongzhang that the rebellion was eventually suppressed.

Another example is Yuan Shikai, the powerful leader of the Qing dynasty's Beiyang Army who later became Premier of the Cabinet. He held such influence that Sun Yat-sen had to negotiate with him: if the emperor agreed to abdicate, Yuan would be named president of the Republic of China. In the end, under Yuan's pressure, the last emperor, Puyi, stepped down—bringing the Qing dynasty to a formal close. Ironically, Yuan himself had failed the provincial exam twice and had never even qualified as a xiucai. Yet he not only became president, he eventually went so far as to declare himself emperor.

I told the journalist, "Our students are simply too good at studying. If this were the Qing dynasty, many of them would have become jinshi, some might even have ranked as zhuangyuan or bangyan. Why would they want to start a revolution and overthrow the emperor? That's a dangerous path. What if they lost their heads in the process? That's one of the reasons why so few of our students choose to become entrepreneurs."

Between Choices and Regrets

Let me share a second story. This one is about myself. In the summer of 1997, while I was pursuing my Ph.D. in the United States, I interned at Bell Labs. At the time, it was a highly prestigious institution, renowned for having produced five Nobel laureates by 1997 (and eleven by 2024). Back in 1984, due to antitrust regulations, AT&T was forced to break up, and Bell Labs was split—one part eventually became Bellcore.

At the end of my internship, my supervisor was very pleased with my performance and expressed interest in having me join Bell Labs after graduation. The following year, she moved to Bellcore and offered me a position there. However, I wanted to explore other opportunities before deciding. I applied to a relatively unknown company at the time, Qualcomm. In 1998, not many people had heard of it. My classmates and family were puzzled. "Everyone in communications and networking wants to go to Bell Labs or Bellcore," they said. "Why would you even consider Qualcomm?"

Qualcomm flew me out to San Diego for interviews, covered my travel and lodging, and offered me a job—complete with stock options. In the end, though, I decided to turn them down and accept the offer from Bellcore instead. When I informed Qualcomm of my decision, their HR team called back almost immediately to double the number of shares in their offer. At the time, Qualcomm's stock had been hovering around $2 to $3 for years. I thought, "Everyone's heard of Bellcore. But Qualcomm? What if those shares end up as nothing more than wallpaper?" And so, in August 1998, after completing my Ph.D., I joined Bellcore.

What happened next? Qualcomm's stock skyrocketed. By January 2000, it had reached $70 and had split multiple times. I did the math—the stock options I had turned down had grown 220-fold in just 16 months… and they kept climbing. To this day, I try not to think about what they'd be worth now—it's just too painful. I didn't just miss out on some extra income; I missed out on a fortune. If I had joined Qualcomm back then, I probably wouldn't have had to worry about money in this life… or even the next!

During my interview trip to Qualcomm, I met another Taiwanese. About five or six years ago, I happened to run into him at NYCU. He told me he had already retired and had bought a large house in the Bay Area. Then, in September of last year, I visited Qualcomm's San Diego headquarters for the first time in 26 years. I told their senior executives, "I was offered a job here back in 1998, but I didn't take it." They smiled and said that nearly all employees who had joined before 2000 had already retired. Most of today's executives only came on board after 2000.

You might think I'm trying to encourage you to start your own company or join a startup. But that's not quite the message I'm trying to convey. Please stay with me for one more story: my third and final one.

High Salary Isn't the Only Goal

About ten years ago, I supervised an exceptionally talented master's student. He wasn't just strong in research—he was publishing in academic journals, something typically expected of Ph.D. students. He was incredibly smart and had competed in both the Physics and Informatics Olympiads during high school. When I was his age, I couldn't have come anywhere close to that level.

As his master's thesis was wrapping up, he came to me and said, "Professor, I want to pursue a Ph.D." Naturally, I was thrilled and happy to accept him. But a week later, during our next meeting, he told me he had changed his mind. When I asked why, he hesitated and didn't offer much of an explanation. He just said he wasn't going to continue.

Later, I asked some of my other students what had happened. They told me, "Right after meeting with you, he came back to the lab and proudly announced, 'I'm going to do a Ph.D., and the professor agreed to take me!' Everyone laughed and said, 'Why would you want to do that? Nobody wants to do a Ph.D.! We're all heading to work at that company in the Science Park, the one that starts with M.'" At the time, 50 to 80 percent of the students in my lab were going to work for that company after graduation.

They also told him, "We'll be earning more than assistant professors, even without any industrial experience. Give it a few years, and we'll be making more than our professors—that means me!" Because of all the teasing, he ended up giving up on pursuing a Ph.D.

He truly should have pursued a Ph.D., as he loved challenges and learning new things. Knowing this, I told him, "If you take that job, I guarantee you'll regret it within three years." About a year into that company, he reached out to me and asked to talk. He said he wanted to rethink the direction of his life. Even after graduation, professors often find themselves providing a kind of "after-sales service." One evening around 7 p.m., we had a long conversation in my lab. Simply put, he should have pursued a career in academia, but because his classmates made fun of him, he chose to follow the same path as everyone else. In the end, he was the one who suffered.

The Courage Not to Follow the Crowd

So, what's the real message behind these three stories? It's simple: don't just follow the crowd.

Most of you may be aiming to work in the Science Park and earn a big paycheck, but that path isn't right for everyone. Entrepreneurship and startups aren't for everyone either. People's family situations differ—some need to start earning immediately, while others have more flexibility. Not everyone has an entrepreneurial spirit, and professional strengths vary widely. That's why I want to leave you with this second piece of advice: Find what's right for you. Discover your own path. And don't be afraid of being laughed at—just go for it.

Let me share one last example. In a YouTube video, a group of antelopes is crossing a road. All the cars have stopped to let them pass, so the road is clear, and the antelopes run quickly across. Suddenly, one antelope in the middle jumps for no apparent reason—but keeps running. The others behind, unsure why, all jump too. One of them stumbles and falls, possibly getting hurt.

That one random jump slowed down the entire herd. It's like many people choosing to work in the Science Park without really knowing why, just because everyone else is doing it. So, my advice to each of you is this: figure out what you truly want, and why.

In my 20+ years as a professor, I've noticed a trend: today's students, especially CS students at NYCU, are becoming increasingly similar in the paths they choose. Almost everyone follows the same route: earn a bachelor's or master's degree, then head straight to the Science Park. From an educator's perspective, that kind of uniformity is risky for both individuals and society. I'm not saying everyone should start a company or pursue a Ph.D. But if that's what truly suits you, you should go for it. Don't just follow the crowd. Do what's right for you.

You may know that our administrative team at the College has been working hard to secure land on the Guangfu campus for a new Computer Science Building, which is scheduled for completion in 2027. The construction alone will cost NT$600 million. 

In the early days, when there weren't many tech companies in Taiwan, we were fortunate to have alumni who ventured out and started their own businesses. A special thank-you goes to our distinguished alumnus, Simon Lin, Chairman of Wistron, who generously donated NT$300 million to the college. If I had joined Qualcomm back then, I might have been the one donating the other NT$300 million! But alas, now all I can do is talk big. The truth is, if none of you start companies or join startups, raising funds for future developments will only become more difficult. That's a real concern. So yes—we really do need some of you to pursue entrepreneurship!

Diversity Brings Possibilities

I once read an article that said one of the key reasons human civilization has become so rich and vibrant is "diversity." It's because people with different skills, personalities, and cultural backgrounds have come together that we've been able to reach this level of civilization. Society needs all kinds of people. Not everyone needs to fight wars or become an emperor. But these days, those who should be starting companies aren't, those who should be going abroad aren't, and those who should be pursuing Ph.D.s aren't. NYCU CS graduates have become too homogeneous. That may not seem dangerous to you as an individual, but it's a real risk for society.

In my generation, many students chose to study abroad. But today, far fewer do. That's why, during my time as dean, I've made it a priority to establish dual degree programs with universities overseas, such as the 3+X programs. In addition to partnerships with UIUC and Rice University, we're also signing agreements with Washington University in St. Louis and Northwestern University. In the future, those of you who apply to Northwestern University may have the opportunity to earn dual degrees—a master's or Ph.D. from both Northwestern and NYCU. Why have I put so much effort into this? To reduce homogeneity and foster greater diversity.

Some students have told me, "I'd love to study abroad, but I just can't afford it." That's why I've also worked to raise donations from our alumni. Today, in addition to scholarships, we offer low-interest student loans through a partner bank. The interest is subsidized by alumni donations, and repayment doesn't begin until students have secured stable jobs. But once again, if everyone simply goes to work in the Science Park after graduation and no one pursues entrepreneurship, raising future funds like these will only become more difficult.

Finally, I want to wish you all the very best—may you have boundless prospects and smooth sailing ahead! But let me be honest with you: for most of you, the journey won't always be smooth. I don't say this to discourage you—it's simply the reality. Just ask your teachers or parents: how many people have had a perfectly smooth path after college? Very few. You will face setbacks and challenges. But what truly matters is how you respond to them and how you rise above them.

Over the past four years, you've gained a wealth of professional knowledge to help you tackle technical challenges in your field. But no one can do everything alone. That's why diversity is so important. People with different backgrounds can work together to solve problems more effectively. So, take a moment to really get to know your classmates—the ones who seem most different from you may one day become your greatest allies.

Congratulations once again, and best of luck on the journey ahead!