
The Switzerland of Southeast Asia, Singapore is an economic
miracle. Considering the depressed environment in the West, its 2010 growth
forecast is an impressive 8 percent, and its trade-dominated economy grew 32
percent in the first quarter on a adjusted annual basis.
Out of a tiny island at the southernmost tip of the Malay
Peninsula, it gained independence from Britain in 1963 and, in one short
generation, transformed itself into a legendarily efficient place where per
capital income for its 3.7 million or so inhabitants exceed that of many
European countries, the education and health systems rival the West, its
largely corruption free, 90% of households own their own homes, taxes are
relatively low – and sidewalks are famously clean and free of homelessness.
At what cost is this prosperity and security? Many argue
that it is a socially engineered, nose-to-the grindstone, workaholic rat race,
where the self-perpetuating ruling party enforces draconian laws, squashes free
press, and offers dubious financial transparency. (It’s joked that the central
government micromanages the details of life down to how flight attendants dress
on the state owned company, Singapore Airlines.)
Lee Kuan Yew, the “minister mentor,” is up there with Fidel
Castro and Nelson Mandela in terms of dominance, influence and history shaping
a nation. He masterminded the “Singapore Model,” converting a country one-eight
the size of Delaware, with no natural resources and mix of ethnicities, into
Singapore, Incorporated. He attracted
foreign direct investment by building communication and transportation
infrastructure – planned from the top down – made English the official
language, recruited brilliant government officials with salaries equal to those
in the private sector, and cracked down on corruption without mercy. The model
– a unique mix of free enterprise and tightly controlled personal liberties – inspired
China, Russia, and Vietnam.
“To lead a society,” Yew says in Darwinian terms, “one must
understand human nature. I have always thought that humanity was animal-like.
The Confucian theory was man could be improved, but I’m not sure he can be. He
can be trained, he can be disciplined.” Yew’s criticism of America is that when
too much freedom is given, it’s taken for granted. The rights of individuals to
do “their thing” is at the expense of an orderly society, not exactly what Adam
Smith and Anne Rand had in mind when they posited that the pursuit of
individual wealth is, ultimately, a service to society. Singaporeans are proud
of their safe, clean nation-state. They ask: What good are freedoms if you’re
afraid to go out at night?
Singaporeans are always striving, and at some level, fear
falling behind the hungry, foreign born immigrants who make up 25 percent of
the population. So competitive is Singapore cultural tradition that by age ten
kids are tracked according to “normal,” “special,” and “express,” in terms of
their potential to contribute to society. Those at the top make the most money,
lucky for them. It’s like the whole society s striving to get into Harvard,
from birth to death. The struggle to stay ahead never ends.
Such a highly controlled society breads conformity and a
“creativity crisis,” the challenge faced by autocratic governments like China
and Vietnam. Imitation is not innovation. Singapore is now chasing after
biotech as China is green energy. Whether they can produce the creative
leadership required to succeed in the global marketplace is yet to be seen.
Singapore, unlike China, is prepared to lure the most talented global citizens
to its small island, in the same way Microsoft imports software engineers.
In some ways, it’s just another example of One World in
which the nation-state continues to loss its grip to the innovation-driven global
corporation that hires not nationals but the most talented global citizens. Passports
matter, but less so.