The US-China science race that isnt a race

Science’s center of gravity is moving—but the real story isn’t who “wins.” Rather, it’s how the global research network is being rewired and what that means for innovation, security and public wellbeing across Asia and beyond.

A recent analysis discussed in Nature highlights a familiar headline: China’s scientific output and influence are rising as the United States’ relative share softens. But the deeper lesson is less about a zero-sum race and more about connectivity: high-impact science increasingly comes from dense, cross-border collaboration, and the countries that thrive will be those that remain indispensable nodes in that network.

Beyond the scoreboard

For decades, scientific leadership was assumed to flow naturally from North America and Western Europe. That assumption shaped everything from where talented researchers aspired to train, to how journals, grantmakers and governments defined “world-class” institutions.

Today, the data tell a more complicated—and more interesting—story. Scientific excellence is no longer concentrated in a single geographic corridor. Multiple regions now host world-class universities, major laboratories, deep talent pools and sophisticated research funders. The global map of knowledge production is becoming more multipolar.

Treating this shift as a bilateral US-China contest misses what matters most. The defining feature of modern science is not where papers are written, but how ideas, methods, datasets, people and institutions connect.

A country can increase publication volume and still be less central to the world’s most productive research circuits; another can publish less but remain a key bridge across fields and borders. Network position—not just raw counts—shapes impact.

Self-inflicted wound hypothesis

One reason American influence may be eroding is not a lack of talent or investment, but friction. Immigration hurdles, uncertainty for foreign students and growing suspicion of academic exchange can discourage the very flows that made the US research ecosystem so powerful. When talented people and collaborative projects face higher transaction costs, the network reroutes.

That is a cautionary tale for everyone, including Asia. In a world where the highest-value discoveries increasingly emerge from large, interdisciplinary teams—often distributed across countries—policies that treat collaboration as a threat can become self-defeating. National security concerns are real, but blanket restrictions and politicized suspicion can degrade the very innovation capacity governments seek to protect.

Asia’s lesson is straightforward: competitiveness does not require isolation. It requires smart openness—clear rules for sensitive technologies, strong research integrity systems, and targeted safeguards—paired with welcoming pathways for talent and trusted collaboration.

Opportunity in multipolarity

Here is the unorthodox view: a world with several strong scientific hubs is good for everyone. Monopolies breed complacency; multiple centers of excellence create healthy competition, diversify approaches and reduce single-point failures in global problem-solving.

For emerging and middle-income economies across Asia, multipolar science creates options. Countries that once had to align with a single dominant patron now can cultivate portfolios: joint labs with multiple partners, multi-country training pipelines, and regionally anchored consortia that connect outward rather than depend inward.

This is especially relevant in a period of geopolitical volatility. Diversified partnerships make national science systems more resilient. If one corridor tightens—through visa barriers, sanctions, export controls or political shocks—research can continue through other trusted routes.

What Asia should do next

To turn multipolarity into durable advantage, Asian governments, universities and funders can act now in three practical ways.

First, keep research corridors open for people. Streamline visa pathways for researchers and graduate students, expand joint appointments and visiting scholar programs, and protect academic freedom and institutional autonomy. Talent mobility is not a “soft” issue; it is the lifeblood of high-impact science.

Second, invest in trusted collaboration infrastructure. That means interoperable data standards, strong ethics and governance for AI and biomedicine, secure platforms for sharing sensitive datasets and rigorous research integrity systems. Trust is the currency that enables cross-border work at scale.

Third, build redundancy through regional and “minilateral” networks. ASEAN-wide centers of excellence, Indo-Pacific climate and health consortia, and cross-border innovation funds can reduce dependence on any single bilateral relationship. The goal is not to choose sides, but to ensure that Asia’s science ecosystem remains connected even when politics are not.

The shared risk

The genuine danger lies neither in America’s relative decline nor in China’s rise. It lies in fragmentation: a world in which research communities split into hardened blocs, duplicate effort, hoard data, and restrict collaboration on problems that are inherently transnational.

Climate change, pandemic preparedness and artificial intelligence are three obvious examples. None can be addressed effectively through siloed national programs alone. The “golden era” of science has always depended on a paradox: competition for prestige and priority, paired with enough openness to let knowledge circulate.

If we lose that circulation, we will still produce papers—perhaps even many papers—but we will produce fewer breakthroughs, fewer verified results and fewer solutions that scale. The cost will be paid not in citation metrics, but in slower medical progress, weaker disaster preparedness, and more brittle technological ecosystems.

A multipolar knowledge world does not have to be a divided one. The more productive framing is not winners versus losers, but connected science versus fragmented science. Asia—home to many of the world’s fastest-growing research systems—can help decide which future emerges.

Y Tony Yang is an endowed professor at the George Washington University in Washington, DC.