and guess who started it all?
Money culture
Large salaries paid to the elite are propelling many Singaporeans
towards an unhealthy pursuit.
By Seah Chiang Nee, littlespeck.com
Apr 25, 2009
Synopsis: Buddhist monk Ming Yi on his lavish lifestyle in
court: “The world has changed… (It’s) no longer like what it was in
the past.
“If people earn more, they will spend more. Many religious people,
not just myself (sic), are very different now.”
THE trial of a high-living Buddhist monk
who owns three properties and loves luxurious cars has shown how
far Singapore has fallen under a money culture.
It is the latest of an ongoing debate whether this affluent city
is over-paying its leaders in government, big business, big
charities and religion.
Even priests and monks, who should be the last people to be
involved, are not spared, the latest being one of Singapore’s top
Buddhist monks.
He is Venerable Shi Ming Yi, who ran a popular and successful
Buddhist hospital and medical centre for the poor.
As CEO and chairman of Ren Ci Hospital and
Medicare Centre with assets of S$47mil, largely on public
donations, he was paid a whopping annual salary of S$192,000.
The saffron-robed monk, aged 47, is facing charges over an
unauthorised loan from Ren Ci’s coffers to his ex-personal
aide.
He is accused of embezzlement and fraud, which are serious
charges. But for a monk who has taken the vow of worldly
abstinence, it is more like a bombshell; and for Buddhist
followers, too.
The furore is even being played out outside the court-room,
focused on his CEO-type salary that allowed
him to live a lavish lifestyle, which critics say is unbecoming of
a monk.
He had spent large amounts on branded goods like Montblanc and
Louis Vuitton and stays at luxury hotels such as St Regis and The
Regent, charged to credit cards.
Singaporeans have learned that Rev. Ming Yi owns three
properties in the posh Orchard area as well as an expensive car
(including a BMW in Australia two years
ago.).
“All this is totally against Buddha’s teaching,” a critic
exclaimed.
Another blogged: “Any monk that takes money as his private or
personal income should be de-robed. Monks have taken a vow to give
up material wants except for basic needs.”
The Christian faith, too, is not excluded by society’s grip of
the money culture.
The majority of religious leaders of all denominations live
frugally on moderate incomes.
The big organisations involved in large fund-raising could
provide the exception.
A few are paid like CEOs because their efforts rake in large
amounts of money from followers.
One of the richest is the New Creation Church, known for its
fund-raising abilities, and was reported to have paid one of its
leaders more than S$500,000 last year.
The church had an income of S$55.4mil and total assets of
S$143.36mil last year.
In just one day alone it pulled in S$18mil for the building of
its new premises.
Singaporeans are reminded of the notorious National Kidney
Foundation charity scandal four years ago caused by its brilliant
fund-raising CEO.
T.T. Durai was the very person who had helped it grow into a
S$260mil charity to provide subsidised dialysis treatment for needy
patients.
Durai’s salary of S$600,000, which was hidden from the public,
was considered excessive by many of its two million donors.
He lost the job in 2005 when he was found to have spent the
charity’s funds on luxury items (including a gold tap for an
office) for personal use. He also gave misleading information to
lure more people to contribute.
Recently, a public outcry arose when government-controlled
Capitaland, South-East Asia’s biggest property company, gave its
CEO Liew Mun Leong S$20.52mil for 2007’s
enlarged profit.
The timing was terrible; the company’s profits were reeling.
The debate is whether quality leaders in charity and religion –
and politics, too – should be paid similar to a top executive of a
profitable private venture.
The difference, of course, is that the money is raised from the
public, based on trust that it is for a collective purpose.
Rev. Ming Yi’s defenders, however, argue although he is a monk,
where a high salary appears ridiculous, he is also chief executive
of a large, well-run, hospital and medical centre.
“So what’s wrong about his high pay?” one asked.
Others say today’s Buddhist monkhood, like others, is different
from ancient times when monks lived an austere life within high
walls.
Rev. Ming Yi told the court that “we live in a modern world … no
longer like what it was in the past”.
Asked to elaborate, he added: “If people earn more, they will
spend more. Many religious people, not just myself, are very
different now.”
Unfortunately not many people’s expectations have changed.
Most Singaporeans believe that when they donate money to a
religious organisation or a charity, it is aimed at helping people
(or troubled souls) in need, not to provide comfort for a few
leaders.
The debate about Singapore’s spreading money culture – with a
per capita GDP of US$48,900 – has intensified
since the economy plunged and sent many workers into hardship.
People have become more sensitive about the ruling elite –
whether in the government, civil service or a large corporation –
being paid excessively more than the average, middle class
person.
Ironically, the unpopular elite pay policy is pushing many
competitive Singaporeans towards giving wealth accumulation top
priority.
People are lured to an unhealthy chase for the dollar.
“They see materialism as a god. Money can do anything, even
deciding what is right or wrong,” remarked a semi-retired
professional.
On the same day that Rev. Ming Yi was testifying, the manager of
a shipping firm was fined S$1,200 for vandalising his neighbour’s
flat.
The amount did not faze the apparently well-to-do man, who told
a reporter: “After all, I can afford to pay. I spend S$4,000 on
karaoke in one night. What’s S$1,200?”
Who says money doesn’t talk?
