Singapore can't go very far when people accept policies
with unquestioning faith. By Seah Chiang Nee.
Oct 15, 2006
After years of prodding its citizens to think more and be more
creative - even making it a school subject - Singapore has
succeeded in moving the ground by, maybe, a few inches.
In other words, things have hardly changed and the majority of
people remain largely content to leave the thinking to the
government, accepting policies with unquestioning faith.
For the government, this compliance is both an asset - it makes for
a governable country - as well as a liability, because countries
nowadays compete on ideas rather than hard work.
It often works, but on those occasions when it fails, it could have
painful results for Singaporeans.
At any rate, this leave-it-to-the-government trait - the result of
years of top-down government and an obedient press - is no panacea
for handling modern challenges.
Example: When Lee Kuan Yew spoke of a six to seven million
population by 2030, no one questioned its rationale or asked: "Why
seven million and not four-and-a-half million" or "How can we reach
this target with declining birth rates?" or "What are the social
costs of rapid foreigner intakes?"
Nothing. No questions from the mainstream media or the academic
community (as far as publicly known). Everyone seemed to have
accepted it as inevitable.
Singapore's foreign relations, in particular, have never been much
of a public subject, either. That's for the government to
decide.
Singaporeans would prefer to talk about shopping than ties with the
world, considering it none of their business, lamented the late S.
Rajaratnam, the first foreign minister, years ago.
One blogger observed, "When Lee Kuan Yew said something that
angered Malaysians recently, almost the entire Malaysian nation
reacted. But in Singapore, people left it to Lee's lone voice to
fight the battle."
During Lee's rule, this environment was considered an asset. He
simply wanted obedient students and obedient workers, whose job was
to follow orders unquestioningly.
This is, of course, no longer a desirable trait, but shaking off
this apathy is next to impossible.
When Singaporeans read the news, they simply nod their head and
figure out how they can benefit from it or run. Few would look
beyond the headline to ask whether the announced measure is really
necessary or whether there are better ways.
Early this year, Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong appealed to
Singaporeans: "Speak, speak out, be heard, take responsibility for
your views and opinions ... We don't mind if you have different
views, but you must have some views.
"If you have no views, I have a problem. If you have different
views, we can talk about it and let's do something about it
together."
The response was a deafening silence. Some genuinely fear that
criticising policies will get them into trouble, while others
simply don't know how to articulate.
This could be a natural consequence of decades of top-down rule, or
even conditioning, when saying the wrong things could be
harmful.
"So why not play safe by keeping quiet," explained a blogger.
"Anyway, the government isn't much of a good listener."
For some time now, schools have been teaching students how to think
critically, a seemingly ridiculous idea but actually very much
needed - except the results have been very slow.
Recently, a mother complained angrily to the press that her child,
in Primary 6, was asked to write "a report" in her English paper.
"She has never been taught how to do it!"
The people's unquestioning obedience of government policies
sometimes causes pain.
Six years ago, when the government launched the S$2bil project to
develop life sciences into one of five pillars of growth, parents
rushed their children to get a college education on the
subject.
Few really questioned what it really meant or how many jobs it
could generate for first-degree holders or polytechnic
graduates.
If the government was behind it, it must surely be a great career!
Even with growing signs that many life sciences graduates in the
United States were jobless, they plunged ahead.
Interest in the biomedical studies in the universities and
polytechnics boomed.
Last year, life sciences became the top choice for students seeking
polytechnic entry with 26.6% choosing the subject, compared to
17.5% for engineering. There were a total of 23 life sciences
courses, offering 2,863 places.
Today the investment is beginning to pay off for the government,
but not for many of the graduates. They have found the Promised
Land is just not there; the job market can't absorb so many.
The first batch of life sciences students have graduated and many
have ended up in junior research positions or manufacturing and
sales jobs in the industry, where a degree is not required. Others
are forced to work outside the field.
Edmund Lim, 27, who graduated two years ago, and now works as a
property agent, told the press: "One of my classmates is working
illegally in Australia, peddling psychotropic drugs to
clubbers."
Some have gone into teaching or work in pharmaceutical or equipment
sales. At least one found a job at a tuition centre.
An educator blogged that he often heard his undergrads commenting,
"I enter into life sciences because my parents think that it is the
best course after law and medicine" or "the government is promoting
it".
This led a Taiwan legislator Li Ao to describe, "Taiwanese are
scoundrels, but lovable, Hong Kong people are craftier and
Singaporeans are stupider. They don't break rules, but they don't
stand out."
(This article was published in The Sunday Star, Oct 15, 2006)
http://www.littlespeck.com/content/people/CTrendsPeople-061015.htm
