Leninism, Asian Culture and Singapore (Part 6) posted on Monday, December 20, 2004
We described earlier that the Singapore government owns, supervises or
regulates a very large part of the national economy. Usually in such a
situation, we see bloated bureaucracies, rampant corruption and gross
inefficiency. How does Singapore avoid these? In fact the prevailing
management technique is rather basic: Get a group of people you trust
and give them a simple set of rules that cover all situations. It is
believed that, however sophisticated and complex the situations might
be, and whatever expertise that might be involved, one can always
codify the knowledge into a set of rules that relatively junior civil
servants can apply, and just occasional high level reviews to modify
rules to cover new situations and remedy shortcomings are required. So
the system is, like Mencius's presciption of "those working with their
minds rule; those working with their bodies are ruled", made up of
those who write the rule book and those who follow it.
Such a philosophy produces many benefits. The management system is
simple, room for corruption is limited, and most of the work can be
done by persons with just some limited training: check that conditions
X, Y and Z are met, and grant the request. At various levels, the
operational structures shuffle papers, move money and grant approvals
in simple steps, allowing the country as a whole to tick along. It was
particularly suited to a post-colonial situation when a government has
to work with ideologically suspect, mostly foreign trained civil
servants, especially if there are frequent elections and government
changeovers with new governments doubtful of the loyalty of the civil
service. It is also relatively easy to assess the performance of the
officials: the good officials know how to collect the wanted
information for a case quickly to allow the relevant rules to be
looked up, provide clear and courteous replies and explanations to
petitioners, and give superiors the right amount of feedback so that
they know what is going on without getting distracted with details.
But to move up, an official need to be more than just a good paper
shuffler; he need to demonstrate capabilities and potential for the
higher levels. So in addition to the operational networks, one also
needs to be plugged into a network of trust: to have the chance to
show oneself before higher officials and demonstrate capabilities,
receive unofficial information useful for one's work, and to provide
informal feedback. Such networks are important everywhere, but
particularly so in Singapore because of the wide span of control of
the public sector in the economy. This network of trust is built up
using various personal connections: school mates, past colleagues,
officer cadet school, same cohort of government scholarship, and of
course family connections. If a person is plugged into the network,
there is greater chance of being remembered, when an important opening
comes up, by the people who are going to make the selection.
Conversely, a person has little future if he/she has been frozen out
of the behind-the-scene network. One could have a senior, well paid
position, but yet be somehow "out in the cold", whether because of
below par (but not obviously poor) performance, the personal dislike
of someone higher up, too independent an attitude, etc. The system is
particularly susceptible to rumours of someone being "in favour" or
"out of favour", with people being deliberately deferential and
cooperative to those rumoured to be the former and showing coolness to
those rumoured to be the latter, whose work and life suffer
accordingly. Again, the system tends to be self-fulfilling. In the
end, the usual fate of an official out of favour is a sideway movement
to some less critical(though often important sounding) position, and
given the wide government control of the economy, there are many
obscure corners which out of favour people can be shunted to. As I
have said a while ago, a well performing official can rise very fast,
but the corollary of this is: one can get out of favour very fast too.
Indeed, given that the economy and the civil service can only expand
and renew its personnel at some finite rate, fast upward movements for
some people must mean downward or at least lack of upward movements
for some others. Management changes of this kind are usually announced
to the people affected and their subordinates with little advance
notice, as decisions are made quickly by the "in" people after quiet
discussion among themselves. An official who suspects that he might be
out of favour often undergoes long and tense periods waiting for what
might eventually befall him/her.
We frequently hear that Singapore's political system has high
stability, and social stability is often cited as the justification
for various government olicies, but curiously, in some ways the system
thrives on a kind of low level instability. With frequent promotions
of high flyers into critical positions, usually bringing their
retinues of followers with them so that they can establish their own
networks of trust within their new territories, and out of favour
individuals being moved elsewhere and their personal networks getting
disabled as result, stable organizational cultures are rarely
maintained. A new manager is expected to "shake up the place a bit" by
removing deadwood, improving procedures, achieving new levels of
excellence, etc. Anyone not doing this would be suspected of
leadership weakness and lack of dynamism, and the success histories of
Singaporean organizations being created out of nowhere argues against
conservatism and preservation of traditions. Pleading bureaucratic
obstruction for failure to perform would only put one out of favour as
an incompetent. With that kind of expectations on them, even the
successful mandarins' life is inevitably stressful.
For the public, the main stress lies in knowing what the rule book
currently says about something one currently wants, be it a government
flat, a Certificate of Entitlement for buying a new car, registering a
child in a good school, a public tender, permanent residence, etc. If
a person happens to have a case that does not fit any item in the rule
book, then the stressfulness is greatly multiplied. The junior
official one sees is unable to grant the request, but he might have
doubt about whether to simply reject the request or to create extra
work by referring the matter higher up to another official, hoping
that the latter's rule book does cover the case, or that he has the
authority to change the junior official's rulebook. The higher
official might then find that his rule book also does not cover the
case, and he is himself put into equal uncertainty. The result could
be interminable delays and uninformative answers("we are considering
the matter" "please come back later"...) that infuriate the petitioner
and embarrass the officials, but with both sides strenuously
exercising self control and trying to avoid saying anything that might
cause even more trouble.
To cite a small example: A foreigner offered a minor managerial post
in Singapore rented a flat through an agency before arrival. A few
days after moving in, a Housing Development Board officer came to his
flat and informed him that the owner had no permission to rent it out:
purchasers of low cost government flats are required to live in them
except in certain situations (e.g., going overseas to work or study,
moving to employer provided quarters, etc) where permission could be
sought to rent out, and he was given a couple of days to vacate. Can
some arrangement be made to allow him to stay? Can he have a few more
days to look for accommodation? Can HDB take action against the
dishonest(or at least very careless) house agent? Can HDB recommend
some alternative agencies? The answer to each was no. These are not
provided for in the rule book, and indeed could not be since such
possibilities would easily generate opportunities for graft or
favouritism.
Singaporeans hear enough such stories to be on guard. Indeed, in
another Newtonian twist of action producing reaction, when they come
to any office with a petition that could meet a negative reply, many
would come prepared with arguments and stratagems designed to elevate
the matter to a higher level where one hopes the rule book could be
overridden. In the reverse Newtonian twist, officials develop skills
in not taking individual responsibility for decisions ("my name? oh it
does not matter" is often heard) and not saying anything outside the
rule book that might hint at opportunities for prolonging the
discussion and higher level overruling ("see my superior? only if you
meet conditions xyz"). Dealings between officialdom and the public
frequently develop a deadly serious yet near-comical pattern.
Such a situation is however totally bewildering to a foreigner,
especially those from liberal democratic countries where government
officials behave quite differently. Officials who do not explain their
decisions, do not tell you who they are, do not seem to care about any
aspect of the problem other than those required by the rule book in
hand, are immediately assumed to be hiding something, and their
motives are automatically suspect. Singaporeans, on the other hand,
are more likely to suspect that the officials know about, but refuse
to reveal, some magic buttons that, if only the petitioner knows where
to push, would produce the desired result.
As already discussed, the standard management technique has allowed
the government of Singapore to build up a large system of often quite
sophisticated organizations in all spheres of life operating with
unusual speed, honesty and efficiency, but it does not contain
consensus building as an integral element. While the ultimate purpose
of the rule book is to serve the public interest, operationally an
official does not do his work by considering individual cases through
his own assessment of public interest, nor by discussion through some
form of institutionalized decision machinery, but by what the rule
book says. Whether in an individual problem the solution prescribed by
the rule book is unfair or undesirable is not for him to judge.
Applying the same current rule to every case that comes before him is
by definition the fair and right things to do. That is the way
everyone has been trained since childhood. Rules are handed down from
above like examinations and model answers given by teachers to
students. At the organizational level, there is usually little attempt
to make people feel they are all part of the decision process.
In theory, as officials do their work they should report problem cases
so that if necessary rule books can be changed. In practice, this has
to be done very carefully, since it implies the superiors have made
mistakes in writing the rules. It is very easy to have one's motives
or judgement coming under suspicion if one provides such feedback
inappropriately. For most people, the safe thing is to focus one's
attention to one's own narrow domain and assume that everything is
fine. Keeping a stiff upper lip is honed to a fine art, and with the
great economic success and reputation for efficiency behind it, the
system began to take on a look of omniscience that deters problem
reporting even further.
However, if one is plugged into the network of trust, then one's room
for manoeuvre is much greater. Problems can be reported to a higher
level, instead of to people who need to protect their own backs and
who have reasons to fear insubordination. The chance of being listened
to seriously by persons with sufficient authority to change the rule
book is much greater, provided one treads carefully and violates none
of the unwritten rules of protocol. That is, if you are "in favour"
and know the proper way to go about it, you can be more original and
outspoken than other people, because your ideas get through, so that
in the future you get listened to even more seriously. Positive
feedback cycle again. But once again there is a Newtonian twist at
work: As the network of trust is better established, people outside
the network are all the more likely to keep their heads down and
consider anything out of the ordinary as the problem only for the
people in the know. An "us" and "them" mentality began to pervade
everyone's thinking, with "us" not speaking out in any serious way
because "we" will not be taken seriously, and "them" not bothering to
ask because "you never get any useful feedback anyway". This is made
worse by the frequent public exhortations of government leaders about
"not rocking the boat" because the nation is very fragile, initially
because of the communist threat and international crises like the Viet
Nam War, then because of the difficulty of economic development for a
nation without natural resources, then because Singapore faces
competition from low cost countries, then the possible resurgence of
communal intolerance and religious fundamentalism... The leaders seem
to be telling the people "talk less, work more, and leave it to us to
solve all the problems". While they might not have quite meant it this
way, the result has been to reinforce a mentality that is already
deeply entrenched.
People who let their leaders do the thinking also would leave them to
do the remembering, but stable corporate cultures and national
identities require good collective memories that summarize the lessons
of history. Occasional exhortations from the leaders to "remember
where the good life came from", and a few classes and tests at school,
can do little to maintain such collective memories, which require
daily enforcement by doing things in ways that embody the historical
lessons. Adopting a system that permits freehand decision making at
the top and quick implementation below, so desirable for adapting to
technological and economic changes, inevitably means that history,
memory and tradition are secondary. Whether that is a good or bad
thing remains to be figured out in the long term.
--
6. Rule by book
We described earlier that the Singapore government owns, supervises or
regulates a very large part of the national economy. Usually in such a
situation, we see bloated bureaucracies, rampant corruption and gross
inefficiency. How does Singapore avoid these? In fact the prevailing
management technique is rather basic: Get a group of people you trust
and give them a simple set of rules that cover all situations. It is
believed that, however sophisticated and complex the situations might
be, and whatever expertise that might be involved, one can always
codify the knowledge into a set of rules that relatively junior civil
servants can apply, and just occasional high level reviews to modify
rules to cover new situations and remedy shortcomings are required. So
the system is, like Mencius's presciption of "those working with their
minds rule; those working with their bodies are ruled", made up of
those who write the rule book and those who follow it.
Such a philosophy produces many benefits. The management system is
simple, room for corruption is limited, and most of the work can be
done by persons with just some limited training: check that conditions
X, Y and Z are met, and grant the request. At various levels, the
operational structures shuffle papers, move money and grant approvals
in simple steps, allowing the country as a whole to tick along. It was
particularly suited to a post-colonial situation when a government has
to work with ideologically suspect, mostly foreign trained civil
servants, especially if there are frequent elections and government
changeovers with new governments doubtful of the loyalty of the civil
service. It is also relatively easy to assess the performance of the
officials: the good officials know how to collect the wanted
information for a case quickly to allow the relevant rules to be
looked up, provide clear and courteous replies and explanations to
petitioners, and give superiors the right amount of feedback so that
they know what is going on without getting distracted with details.
But to move up, an official need to be more than just a good paper
shuffler; he need to demonstrate capabilities and potential for the
higher levels. So in addition to the operational networks, one also
needs to be plugged into a network of trust: to have the chance to
show oneself before higher officials and demonstrate capabilities,
receive unofficial information useful for one's work, and to provide
informal feedback. Such networks are important everywhere, but
particularly so in Singapore because of the wide span of control of
the public sector in the economy. This network of trust is built up
using various personal connections: school mates, past colleagues,
officer cadet school, same cohort of government scholarship, and of
course family connections. If a person is plugged into the network,
there is greater chance of being remembered, when an important opening
comes up, by the people who are going to make the selection.
Conversely, a person has little future if he/she has been frozen out
of the behind-the-scene network. One could have a senior, well paid
position, but yet be somehow "out in the cold", whether because of
below par (but not obviously poor) performance, the personal dislike
of someone higher up, too independent an attitude, etc. The system is
particularly susceptible to rumours of someone being "in favour" or
"out of favour", with people being deliberately deferential and
cooperative to those rumoured to be the former and showing coolness to
those rumoured to be the latter, whose work and life suffer
accordingly. Again, the system tends to be self-fulfilling. In the
end, the usual fate of an official out of favour is a sideway movement
to some less critical(though often important sounding) position, and
given the wide government control of the economy, there are many
obscure corners which out of favour people can be shunted to. As I
have said a while ago, a well performing official can rise very fast,
but the corollary of this is: one can get out of favour very fast too.
Indeed, given that the economy and the civil service can only expand
and renew its personnel at some finite rate, fast upward movements for
some people must mean downward or at least lack of upward movements
for some others. Management changes of this kind are usually announced
to the people affected and their subordinates with little advance
notice, as decisions are made quickly by the "in" people after quiet
discussion among themselves. An official who suspects that he might be
out of favour often undergoes long and tense periods waiting for what
might eventually befall him/her.
We frequently hear that Singapore's political system has high
stability, and social stability is often cited as the justification
for various government olicies, but curiously, in some ways the system
thrives on a kind of low level instability. With frequent promotions
of high flyers into critical positions, usually bringing their
retinues of followers with them so that they can establish their own
networks of trust within their new territories, and out of favour
individuals being moved elsewhere and their personal networks getting
disabled as result, stable organizational cultures are rarely
maintained. A new manager is expected to "shake up the place a bit" by
removing deadwood, improving procedures, achieving new levels of
excellence, etc. Anyone not doing this would be suspected of
leadership weakness and lack of dynamism, and the success histories of
Singaporean organizations being created out of nowhere argues against
conservatism and preservation of traditions. Pleading bureaucratic
obstruction for failure to perform would only put one out of favour as
an incompetent. With that kind of expectations on them, even the
successful mandarins' life is inevitably stressful.
For the public, the main stress lies in knowing what the rule book
currently says about something one currently wants, be it a government
flat, a Certificate of Entitlement for buying a new car, registering a
child in a good school, a public tender, permanent residence, etc. If
a person happens to have a case that does not fit any item in the rule
book, then the stressfulness is greatly multiplied. The junior
official one sees is unable to grant the request, but he might have
doubt about whether to simply reject the request or to create extra
work by referring the matter higher up to another official, hoping
that the latter's rule book does cover the case, or that he has the
authority to change the junior official's rulebook. The higher
official might then find that his rule book also does not cover the
case, and he is himself put into equal uncertainty. The result could
be interminable delays and uninformative answers("we are considering
the matter" "please come back later"...) that infuriate the petitioner
and embarrass the officials, but with both sides strenuously
exercising self control and trying to avoid saying anything that might
cause even more trouble.
To cite a small example: A foreigner offered a minor managerial post
in Singapore rented a flat through an agency before arrival. A few
days after moving in, a Housing Development Board officer came to his
flat and informed him that the owner had no permission to rent it out:
purchasers of low cost government flats are required to live in them
except in certain situations (e.g., going overseas to work or study,
moving to employer provided quarters, etc) where permission could be
sought to rent out, and he was given a couple of days to vacate. Can
some arrangement be made to allow him to stay? Can he have a few more
days to look for accommodation? Can HDB take action against the
dishonest(or at least very careless) house agent? Can HDB recommend
some alternative agencies? The answer to each was no. These are not
provided for in the rule book, and indeed could not be since such
possibilities would easily generate opportunities for graft or
favouritism.
Singaporeans hear enough such stories to be on guard. Indeed, in
another Newtonian twist of action producing reaction, when they come
to any office with a petition that could meet a negative reply, many
would come prepared with arguments and stratagems designed to elevate
the matter to a higher level where one hopes the rule book could be
overridden. In the reverse Newtonian twist, officials develop skills
in not taking individual responsibility for decisions ("my name? oh it
does not matter" is often heard) and not saying anything outside the
rule book that might hint at opportunities for prolonging the
discussion and higher level overruling ("see my superior? only if you
meet conditions xyz"). Dealings between officialdom and the public
frequently develop a deadly serious yet near-comical pattern.
Such a situation is however totally bewildering to a foreigner,
especially those from liberal democratic countries where government
officials behave quite differently. Officials who do not explain their
decisions, do not tell you who they are, do not seem to care about any
aspect of the problem other than those required by the rule book in
hand, are immediately assumed to be hiding something, and their
motives are automatically suspect. Singaporeans, on the other hand,
are more likely to suspect that the officials know about, but refuse
to reveal, some magic buttons that, if only the petitioner knows where
to push, would produce the desired result.
As already discussed, the standard management technique has allowed
the government of Singapore to build up a large system of often quite
sophisticated organizations in all spheres of life operating with
unusual speed, honesty and efficiency, but it does not contain
consensus building as an integral element. While the ultimate purpose
of the rule book is to serve the public interest, operationally an
official does not do his work by considering individual cases through
his own assessment of public interest, nor by discussion through some
form of institutionalized decision machinery, but by what the rule
book says. Whether in an individual problem the solution prescribed by
the rule book is unfair or undesirable is not for him to judge.
Applying the same current rule to every case that comes before him is
by definition the fair and right things to do. That is the way
everyone has been trained since childhood. Rules are handed down from
above like examinations and model answers given by teachers to
students. At the organizational level, there is usually little attempt
to make people feel they are all part of the decision process.
In theory, as officials do their work they should report problem cases
so that if necessary rule books can be changed. In practice, this has
to be done very carefully, since it implies the superiors have made
mistakes in writing the rules. It is very easy to have one's motives
or judgement coming under suspicion if one provides such feedback
inappropriately. For most people, the safe thing is to focus one's
attention to one's own narrow domain and assume that everything is
fine. Keeping a stiff upper lip is honed to a fine art, and with the
great economic success and reputation for efficiency behind it, the
system began to take on a look of omniscience that deters problem
reporting even further.
However, if one is plugged into the network of trust, then one's room
for manoeuvre is much greater. Problems can be reported to a higher
level, instead of to people who need to protect their own backs and
who have reasons to fear insubordination. The chance of being listened
to seriously by persons with sufficient authority to change the rule
book is much greater, provided one treads carefully and violates none
of the unwritten rules of protocol. That is, if you are "in favour"
and know the proper way to go about it, you can be more original and
outspoken than other people, because your ideas get through, so that
in the future you get listened to even more seriously. Positive
feedback cycle again. But once again there is a Newtonian twist at
work: As the network of trust is better established, people outside
the network are all the more likely to keep their heads down and
consider anything out of the ordinary as the problem only for the
people in the know. An "us" and "them" mentality began to pervade
everyone's thinking, with "us" not speaking out in any serious way
because "we" will not be taken seriously, and "them" not bothering to
ask because "you never get any useful feedback anyway". This is made
worse by the frequent public exhortations of government leaders about
"not rocking the boat" because the nation is very fragile, initially
because of the communist threat and international crises like the Viet
Nam War, then because of the difficulty of economic development for a
nation without natural resources, then because Singapore faces
competition from low cost countries, then the possible resurgence of
communal intolerance and religious fundamentalism... The leaders seem
to be telling the people "talk less, work more, and leave it to us to
solve all the problems". While they might not have quite meant it this
way, the result has been to reinforce a mentality that is already
deeply entrenched.
People who let their leaders do the thinking also would leave them to
do the remembering, but stable corporate cultures and national
identities require good collective memories that summarize the lessons
of history. Occasional exhortations from the leaders to "remember
where the good life came from", and a few classes and tests at school,
can do little to maintain such collective memories, which require
daily enforcement by doing things in ways that embody the historical
lessons. Adopting a system that permits freehand decision making at
the top and quick implementation below, so desirable for adapting to
technological and economic changes, inevitably means that history,
memory and tradition are secondary. Whether that is a good or bad
thing remains to be figured out in the long term.
--