DISPUTES about science in Western countries can sometimes be heated. Seldom, though, do they descend into fisticuffs. But this is what seems to have happened in China on August 29th. That day Fang Shimin, a well-known scientific blogger and self-proclaimed “science cop”, was attacked in the street by a gang. Nor was this the first such incident. In June Fang Xuanchang (no relation), a science journalist on Caijing magazine, was on the receiving end of similar treatment.

So far, it might be thought by smug Westerners, so depressing. But then there was a twist in the tale. One of the objects of the two Fangs' criticisms, Xiao Chuanguo, a urologist at Huazhong University of Science and Technology in Wuhan, was arrested and charged with organising the assaults. Even more extraordinary (or perhaps not, considering that he had been detained for seven days without access to a lawyer), he confessed his guilt on television, on September 28th.

Virtue, then, has prevailed. And Chinese science has taken a step towards the standards of civilised discourse that Westerners like to think prevail in their own countries. Maybe. For the more you dig into this strange tale, the more illuminating it is of the need for Chinese science to clean up its act.

Fang Shimin claims that Xin Yu Si (New Threads), the website he runs, posts about 100 allegations of scientific fraud a year, and he has become a folk hero as a result. China has no proper procedures for dealing with such fraud and Dr Fang believes that, in the absence of such official channels, a platform of the sort his website provides is indispensable to the fight against misconduct in science.

Some of the accusations undoubtedly stand up and shine a light on the often-murky business of Chinese science. Many, however, are anonymous and lack specifics, making it difficult for those accused to mount a rebuttal even when they are innocent. Indeed, New Threads reminds some of those with longer memories of the hysteria of the Cultural Revolution, when anybody could post any accusation on da zi bao (big-character posters), and countless lives were ruined as a consequence. Not surprisingly, Dr Fang has many enemies.

Threadbare?

The bad blood between him and Dr Xiao in particular goes back to New Threads' foundation in 2000. Almost immediately Dr Xiao, writing under the pseudonym of Hun Jiao Shou (Confused Professor), began criticising Dr Fang for the way New Threads went about its business. In 2001 Dr Xiao wrote to Science accusing Dr Fang of plagiarism. Dr Fang had written an article that drew on a paper in Science without, Dr Xiao felt, proper acknowledgment of the original researcher. Science's editors, however, disagreed after they had looked into the matter.

In 2005, after several bitter exchanges, Dr Fang managed to identify the Confused Professor as Dr Xiao. Around the same time, Dr Xiao applied to be elected to the Chinese Academy of Engineering. Dr Fang got hold of a copy of Dr Xiao's application and made several allegations in New Threads, in newspapers and on television. He said that Dr Xiao held full-time positions in America as well as China, thus showing insufficient loyalty to his Chinese institution, and also that he included conference abstracts as well as proper, peer-reviewed papers in his publication list—though neither of these is a mortal sin.

More seriously, Dr Fang alleged that Dr Xiao had exaggerated the efficacy of a potentially revolutionary surgical procedure he had invented. This operation is intended to restore bladder function to people with spina bifida, a congenital defect that causes nerve damage and a loss of sensation and muscle function below the waist. Dr Xiao's response was to take Dr Fang to court for libel—frequently. He won two cases, lost two, and several others remain undecided. Then, last autumn, Science News, a Chinese-language magazine of which Fang Xuanchang was then executive editor, devoted two issues to articles questioning the safety and efficacy of the Xiao procedure—using as a source Fang Shimin's lawyer Peng Jian, a man with no scientific or medical background.

Meanwhile, similar accusations were posted under the pseudonym xysergroup (xys are the initials of Xin Yu Si) on two patient-support websites in America, SpinaBifidaConnection and CareCure, apparently trying to warn patients away from clinical trials based on Dr Xiao's procedure that are being undertaken in the United States. These accusations were odd because an independent pilot study of the technique, whose results were published formally in the August issue of the Journal of Urology, but which have been common knowledge since 2008, suggests most of the patients involved have indeed experienced improvements in bladder function.

If this were a lone spat, it would hardly matter. But it seems symptomatic of something wider. In 2006, for example, 120 Chinese scientists, many working in the United States, wrote to the country's science-policy officials warning of the risks of unfounded allegations and anonymous personal attacks. They called for the establishment of independent expert committees to investigate claims of scientific misconduct. In particular, they argued, investigations should be carried out in confidence and innocence should be presumed until guilt was proven.

Unfortunately, nothing has yet happened. No one, then, comes out looking good. What started as an attempt to lighten a dark corner of Chinese life has turned into something that looks suspiciously like a witch-hunt. The upshot is that Chinese science needs to get its house in order. Measured by the number of published papers, China is the second most productive scientific nation on Earth. Incidents like this, though, call into question how trustworthy that productivity is. And that is not a trivial matter. If China does not have honest science, its development will be impeded. Considering how many of the men who run China are engineers, it is surprising this message has not yet got through.