Undergrads
Too docile for the world
Good at studies, they lack initiative and verbal skill that will make it hard to compete in a changing world.
By Seah Chiang Nee, littlespeck.com
Oct 13, 2007
STEPPING up to the mike to ask Lee Kuan Yew a question at a campus forum, university student Terence found himself ‘trembling’.
“I couldn’t control it. My legs shook violently,” said the only Singaporean among the first seven undergraduates with questions for the Minister Mentor, who still overawes many Singaporeans he meets.
The other six were foreigners. From the Singaporeans who made up the vast majority of the 1,800-strong forum audience, there was silence.
As the moderator proceeded to end the session, an exasperated Lee asked: “Is there no Singaporean who wants to ask a question?” Three locals then came forward with mundane questions.
The question-and-answer was LeeÂ’s annual campus sojourn to feel the pulse of people who will one day inherit South-East AsiaÂ’s wealthiest state.
Terence, who was the first to step up, provided an answer to Lee’s question – without referring to it – on Singaporeans’ reticence in expressing themselves.
In his blog, he described his experience of facing Lee, who is two generations his senior, as ‘nerve-wrecking’, and which ‘took a lot of guts’ from a questioner.
Terence’s case could be just an over-statement of his nervousness and may not be representative of the student body. On previous occasions, a few had stood their ground in facing off against Lee, one even calling him “a despot”.
But what is more worrying is the general mood of docility at a time when Singaporeans are bugged by a number of unpopular government policies.
At a time when students elsewhere are playing an active role in society, the locals remain either uninterested or turned-off about anything beyond pursuing a degree and a career.
In some ways, Lee had been the cause of this ‘don’t care’ lethargy, his education system having produced a highly educated, but unquestioning new generation.
Lee’s campus experience last week came as his government is planning to build a fourth – and even a fifth – university to meet the demand for higher learning at home and in the region.
The system had worked very well when Singapore was a manufacturing centre for multi-national corporations. It produced hardworking ant-workers to man the production lines, helping the state to prosper.
To LeeÂ’s credit, he saw the global change away from this, and invested heavily (so did the parents) in educating Singaporeans, which is now paying off.
Economic growth, at 7.8% in 2006, is expected to rise by another 8% this year.
Generally, Singaporean students rank highly in the world, topping in Maths and Science, and many eventually become good professionals and skilled technicians for the economy.
(Last year, the island republic recorded a GDP per capita income of US$32,867 – 17th highest in the world.)
But LeeÂ’s tight control of society has also had a negative impact. It discouraged the emergence of creative, independent-minded youths capable of expressing themselves.
He has always feared that opening up too quickly would result in disorder. He once declared: “If nobody is afraid of me, I’m meaningless.”
Although he has mellowed in recent times, his reputation of knocking heads still lingers.
The result has been a lack of any fire in the belly, an adventurous streak that Lee often says he wishes to see in his people.
Instead, the 21st Century Singaporean is professionally capable, knowledgeable in data knowledge, but short on initiative, action and verbal skills.
He is also self-centred and apathetic about the world around him, a trait that Lee knows will make it hard for Singapore to compete against more gung-ho hordes from China and India.
“Unquestioning citizens are easier to govern. In a small country like Singapore, this necessary compromise has been engineered to prevent chaos,” a newspaper reader wrote.
The education system still tolerates no talk-back, described by a writer as “Teacher teaches, pupils listen”.
He added, “The political culture does not encourage one to speak up, let alone question.”
The university student understands that academic achievement and a dream job do not lie in the ability to ask probing or political questions of a leader, one cynic said.
“Kindly look elsewhere for student activism,” he added.
“At any rate, the local student knows – something his foreign friend does not – that asking Lee questions is not going to change anything, so why bother”, a blogger said.
Ask him an embarrassing question, Lee would “give you his famous laugh and explain to you in very simple terms his point of view, which will be the final and only answer” was another comment.
Part of this lies in the age gap between Lee and young Singaporeans; some 60 years divide them.
The dilemma has, however, not affected the Singaporean universitiesÂ’ steady climb in world rankings or their contribution to the flourishing economy.
i would say that most singaporeans are too docile and unquestioning not just the undergrads or grads.