Kao Hsi-hung, Founder of Commonwealth and Gazing Magazines, Passes Away at 90; Hon Hai Chairman Tung Tzu-hsien Pays Tribute to Their Intergenerational Friendship

Kao Hsi-hung, founder of Gazing Magazine and Commonwealth Magazine, passed away on the morning of June 6 at Taipei Veterans General Hospital at the age of 90, shocking all sectors of society. Tung Tzu-hsien, Chairman of Pegatron, issued an article titled "In Memory and Admiration of Professor Kao Hsi-hung" to mourn his passing.

In the article, Tung revealed that he and Kao were more than 20 years apart in age, forming a true intergenerational friendship. They often gathered with friends for meals and conversations. Tung cherished Kao's elegant demeanor and admired his profound wisdom, particularly praising Kao's “fluent and clear writing style and logical, well-structured reasoning.” He noted that “every word and sentence in Kao’s articles upholds the conscience and responsibility of an intellectual,” embodying an irreplaceable gentlemanly character.

Tung stated that Kao, at the age of 90, passed away peacefully, free from prolonged illness, bringing a圆满 conclusion to his life dedicated to “scholarly patriotism and intellectual contribution through public discourse.” Kao was 24 years older than Tung, and both shared the same zodiac sign, making them a genuine intergenerational pair. Over the past 20 years, they frequently met with friends for lunch, coffee, and discussions on industry trends and current affairs.

To Tung, Kao was not only a renowned economist, publisher, and media founder, but also a warm mentor and senior figure. Despite their differing backgrounds—Tung as an engineer and industrial entrepreneur, and Kao as an economist, publisher, and cultural figure—Kao always approached conversations with curiosity and inclusiveness, seeking to understand global changes from diverse perspectives and searching for solutions for Taiwan’s future and the world’s challenges.

Tung recalled that even when discussing delicate political situations, stagnant conditions, or struggling economies, Kao often replaced seriousness with humor and responded to confusion with erudition. Although their views on national, social, historical, and economic issues sometimes differed sharply—“with clear boundaries like the Chu and Han rivers”—Kao never argued, instead responding with a hearty laugh and then curiously asking Tung why he had reached a different judgment or conclusion. Tung said Kao’s amiable sincerity, wise tolerance, and moments of contemplation always left a deep impression.

Tung also reflected on Kao’s life journey. He pointed out that Kao spent his childhood amid war, gunfire, and turbulent displacement across oceans. In his youth, he personally witnessed Taiwan’s transformation from economic hardship and land reform to the establishment of light industry. Later, he went to the U.S., earned a doctorate, taught there, and returned to Taiwan during the critical era when the island was transitioning from agriculture to industrialization and economic takeoff.

Tung believes that this upbringing, combined with Kao’s economic training and deep concern for the nation and society, shaped his lifelong, unwavering “concern for the country and its people.” However, this patriotism was never blind, but always rational and calm. In the late 1970s, as Taiwan’s economy began to grow, the government implemented strict low-price subsidy policies on public utilities such as water, electricity, and transportation to stabilize its regime and win public favor. At the same time, in Taiwan’s nascent democracy, there was public pressure to keep prices low while increasing welfare, without wanting to pay higher taxes. Kao criticized this as a “contradictory and distorted trend,” advocating that society must understand that all resource acquisition and value creation come with corresponding costs. He invoked Nobel laureate Milton Friedman’s concept of “There’s no such thing as a free lunch” to warn against the mentality of seeking unearned gains or over-relying on government subsidies.

Tung noted that Kao long advocated “read first-class books, become a first-class person, build a first-class society.” Kao not only influenced society through economic theory but also nourished Taiwan with culture and intellectual conscience. Tung mentioned that he was honored with the “Gentleman Entrepreneur” award encouraged by Kao, which made him realize Kao’s expectation that entrepreneurs should not only pursue profit but also shoulder social responsibility and ethical governance. Kao promoted the idea that reading leads to progress, firmly believing that “knowledge changes destiny, and culture roots civilization.”

In recent years, Tung observed, Kao’s thinking evolved from the early theme of “There’s no such thing as a free lunch” to his later focus on “peace and happiness.” In Tung’s view, this was not just a personal intellectual evolution, but Kao’s ultimate blessing and hope for Taiwan. Kao deeply believed that only on the soil of peace and rationality could society truly cultivate genuine happiness and prosperity.

Tung concluded by recalling that Kao lived a highly disciplined life, abstaining from smoking and alcohol, and for decades maintained cardiovascular health through morning swimming. Even in his later years, he remained mentally sharp and physically robust, passing away peacefully at the age of 90 without prolonged suffering. Tung described this as a fulfilled life and the greatest comfort for all who mourn Kao. He ended with the phrase “The sage has departed, but his example endures,” hoping that Kao’s presence, laughter, and wisdom will long remain in people’s hearts, illuminating the path forward for intellectuals and cultural figures.

Full text of the memorial article:

In Memory and Admiration of Professor Kao Hsi-hung August 12, 2026 Tung Tzu-hsien

I cherish Professor Kao Hsi-hung’s elegant demeanor and admire his harmonious wisdom, deeply engraving them in my heart. I admire his fluent and clear writing style and his logical, well-structured reasoning. Every word and sentence in his articles upholds the conscience and responsibility of an intellectual, demonstrating an irreplaceable gentlemanly character.

Professor Kao passed away peacefully at the age of 90, free from illness and pain, bringing a圆满 conclusion to his life of “scholarly patriotism and intellectual contribution through public discourse.”

Professor Kao is 24 years my senior, and we share the same zodiac sign—we are truly an intergenerational pair. In the past two decades, we often met with friends for lunch, coffee, conversation, greetings, and exchanges on industry and current affairs. To me, he was not only a renowned economist, publisher, and media founder, but also a warm senior and mentor.

Every time we met, he always began the conversation with a kind and sincere smile. I am an engineer and industrial entrepreneur, while Professor Kao is an economist, publisher, and cultural figure—our backgrounds differ, yet he always approached with curiosity and tolerance, eager to understand global changes from diverse perspectives and seeking answers for Taiwan’s future and the world’s challenges.

In conversation, even when discussing delicate political situations, stagnant conditions, or struggling economies, he always replaced seriousness with humor and responded to confusion with erudition. He knew that our perspectives on current national, social, historical, and economic issues often differed, with conclusions that were sometimes sharply divided—like the Chu and Han rivers with many clear boundaries—but he would always laugh heartily, then curiously ask me why I had made such a judgment or reached such a conclusion. His kind sincerity, wise tolerance, and moments of contemplation always left a deep impression on me.

Professor Kao’s childhood was spent amid war, gunfire, and turbulent displacement across oceans; in his youth, he personally witnessed Taiwan’s arduous journey from economic hardship and land reform to the establishment of light industry. Later, he studied in the U.S., earned a doctorate, taught there, and returned to Taiwan during the critical era when the island was transitioning from agriculture to industrialization and economic takeoff.

This upbringing, combined with his economic training and deep concern for the nation and society, shaped his lifelong, unwavering “concern for the country and its people.” However, his patriotism was never blind, but always rational and calm. At times, he even used humor—without losing composure—to critique social trends and gently challenge those in power.

For example, in the late 1970s, Taiwan’s economy began to grow, but the government, aiming to stabilize its regime and win public favor, implemented strict low-price subsidy policies on public utilities such as water, electricity, and transportation. As Taiwan’s democratic society began to emerge, there was a voice urging the public to demand lower prices and higher welfare without wanting to pay more taxes. Professor Kao criticized this as a “contradictory and distorted trend,” urging society to recognize and understand that all resource acquisition and value creation come with corresponding costs. Citing Nobel laureate Milton Friedman’s free-market economic insight—“There’s no such thing as a free lunch”—this phrase became a defining slogan of that era.

Professor Kao interpreted Friedman’s famous saying in concise, elegant Chinese, making it easily understandable yet profoundly meaningful, like a Zen master’s verse. He used it to warn society that everything has a cost—“the wool comes from the sheep”—correcting the public’s mentality of seeking unearned gains and dependence on government subsidies, injecting a refreshing and strengthening dose into the impulsive, irrational social climate of the time.

Professor Kao also long advocated “read first-class books, become a first-class person, build a first-class society.” He not only guided society with economic theory but also nourished Taiwan with culture and intellectual conscience. Honored by his recognition, I received the “Gentleman Entrepreneur” award he encouraged, illustrating his expectation that businesses, beyond pursuing profit, must also shoulder social concern and ethical governance responsibility. He promoted the idea that reading brings progress, firmly believing “knowledge changes destiny, culture roots civilization.”

In recent years, his thinking evolved from the early “There’s no such thing as a free lunch” to his later theme of “peace and happiness”—not only a personal intellectual evolution, but also his ultimate blessing and hope for this land of Taiwan. He deeply believed that only on the soil of peace and rationality could society truly sprout genuine happiness and prosperity.

Professor Kao lived an extremely disciplined life, abstaining from smoking and alcohol, and for decades maintained cardiovascular health through morning swimming. Even in his later years, he remained mentally sharp and physically robust, passing away peacefully at the age of 90 without prolonged suffering. This is a fulfilled life, a blessing, and the greatest comfort for all who remember him.