1M 2017 Communication
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Tuesday, June 30, 2026
wealth inequality is creeping up
Here’s a statistic on wealth inequality in Singapore that might make you sit up: The average wealth held by the top 20 per cent of households is about $5.3 million per household, more than 18 times that of the bottom 20 per cent, which is $293,000.The average wealth of the top 20 per cent also dwarfs the average wealth held by all the percentiles of the bottom 80 per cent added up, which totals around $3.5 million. This does not mean the top fifth owns more than the other four-fifths combined, since the latter group is far larger. But it signals a meaningful and troubling disparity in wealth per household.The source is an Occasional Paper on Income Growth, Inequality, and Social Mobility Trends issued by the Ministry of Finance (MOF) in early February. The MOF candidly acknowledges that the wealth of the richest group may be underestimated because people tend not to disclose sensitive financial information or have difficulty recalling details – which means inequality may actually be higher than the estimates suggest.Singapore’s overall Gini coefficient for wealth stands at 0.55, meaningfully higher than the income Gini coefficient of 0.38 after taxes and transfers. (The Gini coefficient runs from 0 to 1; the higher the figure, the greater the inequality.) The shift towards higher wealth taxes seen in recent budgets is, in that light, entirely logical.Capital Is pulling away from labourBut there is a deeper structural force at work, one that wealth taxes alone cannot address. The mainstreaming of artificial intelligence since 2022 has accelerated a trend that was already under way: the returns on capital – financial assets in particular – are running far ahead of wage growth or even economic expansion.Since those who are already wealthy hold the lion’s share of financial assets, they are compounding their advantage compared with the rest of the population, which depends primarily on earned income.The economist Thomas Piketty, in his landmark book Capital In The Twenty-First Century, captured this dynamic in a simple but powerful formulation: r > g. When the rate of return on capital (r) exceeds the rate of economic growth (g), inequality will inexorably rise. The data from the past three years show that this is exactly what has been happening.In the US, where AI first took off, the trend is dramatic.From 2023 to 2025, the S&P 500 – a reasonable proxy for returns on capital – rose by 86 per cent. Over the same period, nominal wage growth came to around 12.6 per cent (less in real terms, after accounting for inflation), while real gross domestic product (GDP) grew a cumulative 8 per cent.In short, the S&P 500 outpaced wages by almost seven times and GDP by more than 10 times.In Singapore, a similar story played out, if less dramatically. Including dividends reinvested, the Straits Times Index (STI) rose a cumulative 62.8 per cent from 2023 to 2025, while nominal wages grew 16.5 per cent and real GDP 10.5 per cent.Capital returns from the STI outpaced nominal wages by roughly 3.8 times and real GDP by almost six times.What is happening, in essence, is a massive redistribution – not from rich to poor, but in the opposite direction: from labour to capital, from wages to profits, from workers to shareholders.And this trend may accelerate in the AI era, which, despite its promising long-term benefits, is likely to displace many workers in the short term, compress wages for white-collar workers transitioning to new roles, and concentrate the astronomical profits of technology companies in the hands of those who own them.A floor is not enoughOne policy response commonly advocated to deal with technological disruption is Universal Basic Income or UBI – a regular cash payment to every citizen regardless of employment status. Silicon Valley executives have been among its most vocal champions.But UBI, whatever its merits as a safety net, does not address the problem of rising inequality. As Nobel laureate Michael Spence put it: “It just puts a floor under incomes – so you get most people sitting on the floor while a select few capture the astronomical wealth generated by capital.”A more promising response is Universal Basic Capital or UBC – giving everyone, not just the wealthy, a stake in the assets that are generating outsized returns.As James Manyika, a senior vice-president at Google, has argued: “It’s crucial that we have more people participating in the capital income pathway because, while labour income remains the most important for the majority of people, capital income is a bigger and bigger part of where the value is going.”The distinction matters. UBI redistributes income after the fact. UBC builds wealth from the ground up – harnessing the power of compounding so that those who currently have no financial assets begin to accumulate them early, and over time. Critics will note that the benefits of UBC accrue over decades rather than immediately, making it a poor remedy for current poverty.That is a fair point – but it argues for UBC complementing, rather than replacing, existing social support schemes, not for abandoning the idea.More on this topicTo win the AI adoption race, Singapore must mind the social class and gender gapsAI gender gap at work: Are women being left behind in Singapore’s AI push? Putting UBC into practiceThe only fully operational example of UBC today is Alaska’s Permanent Fund Dividend, which has paid annual cash distributions to every resident from oil revenues since 1982. But several other models are emerging.The US has proposed “Trump Accounts,” under which every child under eight would receive a US$1,000 (S$1,300) seed investment, with families able to contribute up to US$5,000 a year into an index fund. Withdrawals would be permitted from age 18 onwards, for education, a business or a home.Germany has come up with “early start pension accounts”, crediting children aged six to 17 with €10 (S$14.70) a month, which parents and later the beneficiaries themselves can top up and invest in diversified products such as exchange-traded funds; the funds can be withdrawn only at retirement, when decades of compounding would have made them substantial.OpenAI has proposed a Public Wealth Fund that would give every citizen a stake in AI-driven growth, potentially seeded with equity contributions from AI companies.Singapore’s opportunitySingapore is unusually well-positioned to act on this idea because the infrastructure for UBC already exists in embryonic form. The Central Provident Fund (CPF) is a sophisticated, trusted savings and investment architecture. With targeted adaptation, it could serve as the vehicle for a genuine UBC scheme.The existing CPF structure could remain intact. But new accounts within the system could be created and opened to all citizens from an early age – not only those in employment, as is currently the case.For citizens without savings, the Government could seed these accounts via interest-free loans, repayable later from the account’s own returns or from future earnings.The forthcoming life-cycle investment scheme to be introduced in 2028, which adjusts asset allocation as the account holder ages, provides a further ready-made mechanism that could be extended to UBC accounts.The goal is simple to state, even if the implementation requires care: Every Singaporean, from as early as possible in life, should have some exposure to financial assets that compound over time.This would not be a handout nor a floor, but a stake in the same wealth-generating mechanism that has been working so powerfully, and so unevenly, for those already at the top.The wealth disparity will not close by itself. In the age of AI, it is more likely to widen. A UBC can help narrow the gap.•Vikram Khanna is a former associate editor of The Straits Times who writes on economic affairs.More on this topicNow you see it, now you don’t: Why data can’t capture the AI revolutionSingapore’s AI push needs a defensive shield to protect workers
y not engaged at work is better
Editor’s note: This is the first in a two-part opinion on the topic of disengagement at work. Read the other here.“This is an alarm call, so wake up, wake up now” sang Bjork in 1997. One can imagine these lyrics echoing in Singapore boardrooms and business press offices every year when Gallup releases its global workplace report: Low engagement numbers prompt calls to fix organisational culture and re-engage the workforce.This year, 2026, is no exception. At just 14 per cent against a South-east Asian regional average of 25 per cent and a global average of 20 per cent, Singapore sits near the bottom of the global engagement table. The urge to cry wolf and treat this as a crisis is understandable. It is also a partial interpretation of the real situation and the data.Before reaching for the panic button, let us consider a different possibility – that Singapore’s low engagement levels may not just reflect apathy or dysfunction, but rather point to a recalibration of how Singaporeans relate to work in an always-on, digitally mediated economy. In other words, the lack of engagement may reflect a deliberate effort to redraw boundaries and preserve energy, and a more pragmatic stance towards work.Singapore has already seen signs of this boundary-setting instinct. In 2024, the Ministry of Education said teachers need not share their personal phone numbers or respond to work messages after school hours, except in emergencies. Likewise, tripartite guidelines that took effect in December 2024 require employers to formally consider employee requests for flexible adjustments to work hours, location or workload.The crisis narrative: Alarm call or crying wolf?If Singapore’s workforce was genuinely in trouble, one would expect to see distress rippling across all the indicators. But that is not what Gallup’s data shows. Loneliness, a marker of psychological disconnection, comes in at just 13 per cent, which is below regional and global averages.Most strikingly, 40 per cent of Singapore workers report to be thriving in life, ahead of South-east Asian (36 per cent) and global (34 per cent) averages. This is a peculiar profile for a disengaged workforce. Truly disengaged people usually would not report above-average life satisfaction. So, what is the data saying overall? There is, indeed, some cause for concern. At 43 per cent, Singapore’s daily stress rate is nearly double the regional average, although it is close to the global mean of 40 per cent. This is reflected in other indicators, such as that most Singaporeans are not getting enough sleep.But the overall picture suggests that workers may be protecting themselves by keeping more emotional distance from work, maintaining performance under pressure precisely because they are not staking their whole identity on their occupation.Indeed, what Gallup’s data actually describes is a workforce that has stopped treating its job as the primary source of meaning and identity, while remaining quite satisfied with life overall. This is work-life segregation as a coping strategy and a growing body of research suggests it may be a good one.Checking in and outMy collaborators and I have studied knowledge workers who were working from home. We discovered that those who used flexibility in their work hours achieved both higher well-being and productivity. Structuring the day so that work is not one uninterrupted 9-to-5 block, but one of many tasks woven into daily life, can help people to better cope with both professional and personal demands.For instance, parents of young children may wake earlier to work remotely, send the children to school, then resume work later in the morning and finish before the usual peak-hour rush. More importantly, the intermingling of work with other daily activities is not a sign of low commitment, but rather a practical way of managing competing demands that allows workers in the 21st century to remain functional across all their roles.In line with this, renowned organisational psychologist Sabine Sonnentag has spent decades studying what allows workers to sustain high performance over time. The answer she found is clear: Psychological detachment – the ability to mentally disengage from work when not working – is a strong predictor of sustained energy, well-being, and performance at work.A workforce that keeps its emotional investment in work calibrated, rather than maximised, may be doing exactly what the evidence suggests. In the era of expectations of constant connection and availability, the ability to mentally clock out is not a symptom of laziness or lack of interest, but a form of self-regulation. Even more, it is a competitive advantage that affords sustained performance.Out with the old, in with the (disengaged) newAnother important factor to consider when interpreting the data from the Gallup report is the ongoing generational shift in the workforce. Millennials and Gen Z have a different outlook on work than their parents and grandparents did. My research on generational differences in work values suggests that, although the priorities of millennials and Gen Z are not markedly different from those of their predecessors, the level of their expectations is higher across the board.And the higher the expectations, the easier for organisations to under-deliver, which surely does not help boost engagement. Younger workers are also less willing to tolerate rigid hours, such as being expected to stay in the office until a fixed time, especially after their work is done. Many would rather be judged by output than by presenteeism.Yet, this is not an alarm call, but rather a reflection of the ongoing value shift and change in what workers expect from employers and vice versa. The lack of engagement may simply reflect a more honest account of what work is and is not in 2026.Indeed, the younger workforce is generally more dynamic and mobile and less committed to the “one job for life” that their elders espoused, but, to be fair, this is as much the outcome of sociocultural trends as it is of an organisation-driven restructuring of employment relationships that has been ongoing for decades. Most importantly, these workers are still able to do their job well and live a good life overall.More on this topicDisengagement at work may endanger Singapore’s AI pushOnly 1 in 10 young Singapore workers is engaged at work: Gallup reportYou’ve got a European friend in meAnother important clarification is that Gallup’s engagement measure captures emotional investment in one’s job – namely the degree to which workers feel absorbed in, enthusiastic about and committed to their work. This is a high bar, which reflects deep psychological and emotional investment in work. Is this actually desirable?In a hyper-competitive, fast-paced environment like Singapore, emotional enthusiasm for one’s job can be an exhausting commodity to maintain. Moreover, what is not captured by Gallup’s measure are more relevant metrics, such as whether workers are doing their jobs well, living good lives or contributing meaningfully to the economy.Another caveat of the engagement metrics is that cultural differences play an important role. Americans tend to exhibit high engagement (31 per cent) because being emotionally involved in one’s job is seen as a necessary ingredient for professional success there. But this is not the case everywhere. Europe registers just 12 per cent engagement on Gallup’s scale – even lower than Singapore – but almost half of the workforce (49 per cent) is thriving.In a hyper-competitive, fast-paced environment like Singapore, emotional enthusiasm for one’s job can be an exhausting commodity to maintain. PHOTO: UNSPLASHYet, no dominant narrative describes Europeans as a workforce in crisis just because the Swiss (8 per cent engaged) completely check out on the weekend or because the Dutch (14 per cent engaged) do not set meetings that start at 4pm or later. A concrete possibility is that disengagement has become a cultural characteristic in Singapore as much as in many European countries. The European example is a particularly illuminating one because it shows low engagement does not automatically mean poor outcomes.Reframing the questionSingapore’s employers and policymakers would do well to resist the impulse of treating a 14 per cent engagement figure as a number to be driven upwards at any cost. Low engagement should not automatically be read as a failure.Rather than asking how to raise engagement, the more useful question is whether workers feel that the current conditions are sustainable: Are they recovering well, living meaningful lives and performing well on the job? Can they keep doing so? If so, pushing for ever-higher engagement may not help, and could even undermine the balance that allows people to perform sustainably.A good takeaway is that employers should focus less on emotional buy-in as a target in itself, and more on whether workers are productive, healthy and able to sustain their work performance over time. On that note, the more appropriate Bjork quote would be, “There’s more to life than this”.•Federico Magni is an assistant professor at Nanyang Business School, Nanyang Technological University. An organisational behaviour expert, he researches creativity, team dynamics and human responses to AI at the workplace.More on this topicWhy mandatory office time isn’t going to workWith my own desk at work comes a sense of belonging
skin conditions
I sighed as Mary walked out of the consultation room. Her sense of disappointment and low self-esteem were palpable in the silence of the room. Thirteen-year-old Mary (I am changing the names of my patients to protect their privacy) has been struggling with vitiligo for the last two years. She has gone through phototherapy, applied topical medications and taken oral supplements to treat her vitiligo.Mary’s condition had improved but recently became active again, and she was feeling upset with the spreading patches. Her mother, who had accompanied her to the appointment, shared that Mary has been finding it difficult to adjust to secondary school life, as she is conscious about the white patches on her skin, especially on her face and hands. As a result, she has become more withdrawn and has also restricted her choice of co-curricular activity to an indoor option as she wants to avoid sun exposure.This reminded me of another patient I had seen earlier in the day – nine-year-old John, who has severe atopic dermatitis (commonly known as eczema). He has just started treatment with a medication currently approved to treat moderate to severe eczema. When John came to see me a month ago, he was feeling extremely down due to his extensive weepy, red and itchy skin. Dark eye circles revealed that his sleep had been adversely affected by the eczema. John’s parents said he had not gone to school for the last three weeks as he could not concentrate in class, did not want rude stares from classmates and unkind comments from strangers on the bus.As a dermatologist who has been seeing children and adults with skin conditions for over a decade, I often come across patients like Mary and John. Although afflicted with different skin conditions, both Mary’s and John’s mental health and well-being have suffered because of their highly visible skin disease.In an era dominated by perfectly filtered social media feeds and sometimes excessive consumption of highly engaging influencer content, children and adolescents face unprecedented pressure regarding their appearance and body image. While this environment is challenging for any young person, it creates a compounded, invisible struggle for those living with visible skin conditions. These struggles are far from rare and chances are that most readers would know a child who is quietly dealing with them.Skin conditions affect mental healthEczema, one of the most common childhood skin conditions in Singapore, currently stands as the single most frequent diagnosis at KK Women’s and Children’s Hospital’s (KKH) paediatric dermatology clinic – a stark indicator of a growing public health issue. The overall prevalence of eczema in Singapore stands at 13.1 per cent. Many patients are diagnosed in infancy or in childhood, with the prevalence in Singapore school-going children aged seven to 12 years reported at 20.8 per cent. The condition is more prevalent in children (20.6 per cent) compared with adults (11.1 per cent).Patients with eczema suffer from red, itchy, dry skin, which can affect any part of the body surface. Flare-ups can be triggered by dust, sweating, hot and humid weather, co-existing illnesses and stress. Eczema patients are three times more likely than others to develop depression and anxiety, driven by a never-ending cycle of persistent itch, poor sleep quality, limitations on daily activities and the stress of having to deal with visible skin conditions.Vitiligo is an autoimmune condition where the body produces antibodies to attack the melanocytes (pigment cells) within the skin. It falls under a group of conditions known as pigmentary disorders – conditions that affect the colour of the skin. It is less common compared with eczema, with estimates suggesting that it affects 7.4 people per 1,000 population in Singapore. Crucially, half of all vitiligo cases begin before the age of 20, striking precisely during a young person’s most formative and vulnerable years.In vitiligo, the patient develops white patches of skin, which may affect any body surface. The disease can be particularly noticeable in individuals with darker skin. Research consistently links vitiligo to severe mental health burdens. The condition can trigger psychosocial distress, depression, anxiety and social phobia, particularly among younger patients.An under-recognised burdenFor the young people suffering from such conditions, the mirror reflects not just a medical diagnosis, but a daily battleground for self-esteem. From a dermatologist’s perspective, treating the skin is only part of the management plan. In fact, visible skin conditions may be a significantly under-recognised contributor to youth mental health struggles – a matter that is already a growing national concern in Singapore. It has been reported that 30 per cent of chronic skin conditions are influenced by psychiatric disturbances. Many adolescents with visible skin disease also suffer from depression, anxiety and even suicidal tendencies.In treating patients with such skin conditions, their mental health issues also need to be addressed. At KKH, patients with both skin issues and associated mental health concerns can be seen in a combined dermatology-psychology clinic.The medical goal must shift from reactive to proactive. Treating skin conditions early and effectively is not just about aesthetics; it is also about improving the quality of life and about reducing the risk of severe mental health consequences later. Recognising how deeply a patient’s psychological state is being affected must be factored into the clinical urgency of the treatment plan.A group of global experts in vitiligo recently signed a consensus statement recognising that a patient’s psychological distress must be factored into any assessment of the severity of the disease. This highlights the importance of not just treating the skin disease, but also the underlying psychosocial factors.Breaking down the barriers to careSeveral barriers hinder patients and their families from seeking treatment early. These include myths and misinformation accessed on websites with unfiltered content.There is also the issue of social stigma, where shame and a lack of public understanding often cause families to hide or delay seeking treatment for conditions like vitiligo. We need more open and judgment-free conversations as well as public education to overcome these hurdles. Fortunately, in Singapore there is now a vitiligo patient support group as well as eczema patient support groups to help members journey safely together.Lastly, there may be a lack of awareness on the advances in medicine, which have significantly altered the treatment landscape and meaningfully shifted treatment outcomes for eczema and vitiligo in the last few years.Some of these medications are suitable even for very young patients. Dupilumab is approved to treat eczema in patients as young as six months old. Abrocitinib can be given from the age of 12 and eligible patients may be considered for government subsidies. Meanwhile, Ruxolitinib cream can be used on patients 12 years and older with generalised vitiligo. While it still requires special medical approval in Singapore for prescription, my team and I have seen promising results treating both adult and paediatric patients with it at KKH and Singapore General Hospital (SGH).Importantly, care does not stop when a child grows up. The same specialist sees patients across the pigmentary disorders clinics at KKH and at SGH, ensuring that the relationship, history, and trust built over years carry forward seamlessly into adulthood – a continuity that matters deeply for conditions that are lifelong and deeply personal.When it comes to intervention, waiting is not a neutral choice. Delaying treatment allows the condition to take a deeper, sometimes permanent toll on a child or adolescent’s confidence and psychological development. By understanding that help is available, acknowledging that these conditions are more than just skin deep, and responding to visible differences with compassion rather than judgment, we can reduce the mental burden of such visible skin conditions.Mary and John have a tough battle to face. But I am confident we can make it easier for them to lead a better life.•Emily Gan Yiping is senior consultant at the Department of Dermatology, KK Women’s and Children’s Hospital.More on this topic‘Now, I thank the universe for this’: Vitiligo patients in Singapore cope with skin disorderRare skin condition gives 9-year-old girl skin like KPop Demon Hunters character
dear you
SINGAPORE – It took a film to reopen one of Singapore’s foundational policy questions.Dear You, the Chinese blockbuster filmed largely in Teochew and centred on the emotional worlds of Chinese migrants to South-east Asia, arrived in Singapore with a peculiarity: Its general release here would be in Mandarin-dubbed form, while the original Teochew version would be confined to limited screenings.The response was immediate. Tickets to the original-language screenings sold out quickly. Film-makers spoke up. Members of the public questioned why a Teochew-language film could be screened commercially in Johor Bahru, while Singapore audiences were largely offered a dubbed version. Within days, more original-language screenings were added.On the surface, this may look like a dispute about film distribution. It is not. It is a reminder that language policy in Singapore remains deeply bound up with questions of identity, memory and belonging.What is at issue is not simply whether one film should be shown in Teochew or Mandarin. It is whether a language framework that served Singapore well in one era now needs recalibration for another.This is not an argument against bilingualism.Singapore’s bilingual policy has been one of the most consequential and successful pillars of our nation-building project. It gave us a common working language in English, enabling inter-ethnic communication and global connectedness. It also sought to anchor cultural continuity through the teaching of official mother tongues. In a young and vulnerable state, this was not merely educational policy. It was strategic statecraft.That framework has served Singapore well. But the fact that a policy was right for its time does not mean that it should remain unchanged in all its particulars. Successful policies can outlive the assumptions that first made them successful. Policies are built for historical circumstances; when those circumstances evolve, policy must also be open for renewal.The Dear You debate should be read in precisely that light.A policy that succeeded – and a context that changedSingapore’s language settlement emerged from a very specific set of post-independence imperatives.English was designated the common language of administration, commerce, science and inter-ethnic communication. Mother tongues (Mandarin, Malay and Tamil) were to preserve cultural ballast and civilisational rootedness.For the Chinese community in particular, the Speak Mandarin Campaign launched in 1979 sought to reduce the fragmentation of multiple dialects and to establish Mandarin as a common language among Chinese Singaporeans.The logic was clear and compelling for its time. A common working language was essential for social cohesion and economic competitiveness. Consolidating Chinese dialect use around Mandarin was seen as necessary to support bilingualism and to prevent a proliferation of linguistic divides.By most measures, the policy succeeded. English became the principal language of work and schooling; Mandarin became the dominant Chinese language among younger Singaporeans.But the very success of that settlement has produced a different challenge. The concern today is no longer that dialects will overwhelm English or undermine Mandarin learning. It is almost the reverse: that heritage languages and dialects may disappear from everyday life so thoroughly that what is lost is not merely vocabulary, but also cultural memory, intergenerational connection and part of the texture of Singapore’s plural past.That is why Dear You has touched a nerve. It has surfaced a question that extends beyond one film: If the bilingual policy has already achieved its core objectives, is there room to loosen the governance of the cultural domain and release it from assumptions forged under a different set of anxieties?For many, the objection to dubbing is not ideological but cultural. A language carries far more than semantic meaning. It carries rhythm, humour, silence, kinship terms, emotional registers and historical memory. A film made in Teochew about Teochew migrants is not fully the same film when dubbed into Mandarin and the plot remains unchanged. Something in the grain of the work is altered.Nor is this simply a Chinese dialect issue. The broader question is whether Singapore can now consider linguistic diversity as a resource to be stewarded rather than a problem to be managed.In a more mature Singapore, perhaps we should ask whether there is room to preserve the discipline of bilingualism while making more space for the complexity of multilingual life. The question before us is not whether bilingualism was right. It was. The question is whether a framework designed for the imperatives of the 1960s and 1970s can be reconsidered to be responsive to the complexities of the 2020s and beyond.The answer, I think, is that the foundations remain sound, but the superstructure needs renewal.What the Dear You episode tells usThe episode tells us at least four things.First, it tells us that there is real demand for original-language cultural expression, including in heritage languages that do not sit neatly within our official language architecture. The strong response to Dear You came from audiences who wanted to experience the film in the language in which it was performed and emotionally textured.Second, it tells us that younger Singaporeans are not indifferent to linguistic heritage, even if many do not speak those languages fluently. There is, among some, a genuine desire to reconnect with the languages of their parents and grandparents, whether through films, music, oral histories, community initiatives or family conversations. This desire should not be romanticised, but neither should it be dismissed. It is part of a broader search for rootedness in an evolving and maturing society.More on this topicIf the Speak Mandarin Campaign succeeded, why are we still afraid of Teochew?IMDA approves 50 additional Teochew screenings of popular Chinese movie Dear YouThird, it tells us that our current language arrangements may be too blunt in the way they treat different domains of life. The language of schooling, the language of administration, the language of artistic expression and the language of cultural memory do not all need to be governed by the same logic. A policy framework designed to ensure coherence in education should not automatically be transposed onto cinema, theatre or heritage work.Fourth, it tells us that Singapore is now mature enough to move from a defensive posture on language to a more confident one. We are no longer the uncertain state of the 1960s, balancing fragility on multiple fronts. We are a far more established society, with strong institutions, a more sophisticated arts ecosystem and a population accustomed to navigating multiple linguistic and cultural worlds.If we still believe that exposure to dialects in public cultural life threatens the foundations of bilingualism, we may be underestimating the resilience of the very policy we seek to protect.What should change – and what should notTo say that language policy should evolve is not to argue that everything must be reopened. Some fundamentals should remain.English will and should remain Singapore’s common working language. It is indispensable to our social compact and global orientation. Mother tongue education should also remain an important part of our schooling system, for the reasons that anchored them in earlier times.The question is how to move from a bilingual policy designed primarily for economic necessity and social engineering towards a broader language policy suited to a more culturally confident society.That renewal could take place in at least three ways.Separate the educational domain from the cultural domainThe most immediate lesson from Dear You is that Singapore could consider a clearer distinction between language policy in education and language policy in cultural exhibition.It is entirely reasonable for the state to preserve a structured bilingual framework in schools. It is much less clear why the same logic should continue to shape what can be shown in cinemas in original form, especially when subtitles already provide accessibility.A Teochew film screened in Teochew does not weaken the teaching of Mandarin in schools any more than a Japanese film screened in Japanese weakens the teaching of English.The most immediate lesson from Dear You is that Singapore could consider a clearer distinction between language policy in education and cultural exhibition. PHOTO: CLOVER FILMSA sensible reform would be to establish a more permissive default for the public exhibition of films in heritage languages and dialects, subject to the same classification and content rules that apply to other films.In other words, the issue should be treated primarily as one of cultural exhibition, not as an extension of school language policy. Regulators need not withdraw entirely. But the starting point should shift from restriction with exceptions to permission with safeguards.This should not apply only to imported films. It should also support local film-makers, theatre-makers and content producers who wish to work in dialects, mixed registers or other community languages.Reframe dialects and heritage languages as cultural assetsHeritage languages are part of our intangible cultural infrastructure. They are repositories of migration histories, ritual vocabularies, kinship systems, humour, oral traditions and worldviews. Their value is not reducible to whether they are efficient languages of modern administration or mass schooling. Their value lies also in what they carry across generations.If that is accepted, then policy could move beyond ad-hoc accommodation towards active stewardship. This could include support for subtitled screenings of heritage-language films; grants for oral history projects and digital archives; greater encouragement for museums, libraries and arts institutions to programme work in dialects and other community languages; and partnerships with clan associations, cultural groups and schools to document and transmit these linguistic traditions.This principle should apply across communities, not only to Chinese dialects. If we are serious about pluralism, then Malay variants, Indian languages beyond Tamil and other heritage languages should also be seen as part of Singapore’s cultural commons. A renewed language policy could be a wider reflection on how a diverse society honours the full range of its linguistic inheritances.More on this topicMandarin or dialect, there’s no need to pick sides, says Promote Mandarin CouncilChina’s surprise blockbuster Dear You is a love letter to the Nanyang generationUpdate the rationale for multilingualismFinally, Singapore could revisit how it explains language learning to the next generation.For decades, the rationale for bilingual education has been framed in instrumental terms: economic usefulness, civilisational roots and social discipline. These arguments have merit, but do not capture the wider value of multilingualism in a culturally dense and globally connected society.We would benefit from a more expansive language imagination. Languages are not only tools of utility. They are also ways of entering other worlds of meaning. They allow access to literature, memory, humour, prayer, family history and social nuance. They can deepen intergenerational relationships. They can offer a sense of history.In this sense, language has value beyond market reasons and could be a form of human and civic capability. Not every Singaporean must or can become fluent in heritage languages. But it can still be appreciated in cultural programming.From bilingual discipline to multilingual confidenceThere will be those who worry that any loosening of older restrictions risks unravelling hard-won gains. That is a valid consideration that we must take seriously. Language policy in Singapore has always been entangled with race, class and national cohesion. It is precisely because the issue is so consequential that change should be thoughtful rather than impulsive. We must not confuse continuity with wisdom, nor must we confound change with unproductive disruption. The goal might be to find a way to hold together both commonality and complexity with confidence.I believe we can do so.We can retain English as our common working language. We can continue to invest in mother tongue education. And we can also recognise that heritage languages and dialects deserve a more legitimate and visible place in our cultural life. This allows us to hold commonality and have space for the richly particular.Dear You debate: Is it time to relook rules on Chinese dialects?The Usual Place | The Straits TimesWatch onThe Dear You episode is a valuable one. It has given us an opportunity to ask what it means, at this stage of our national journey, to hear ourselves more fully. Not only in the official languages that built our institutions, but also in the inherited languages that carry memory, intimacy and the traces of journeys that made Singapore what it is.Bilingualism was one of Singapore’s great acts of nation-building. The task now is not to abandon it, but to build on it, by moving from bilingual discipline to multilingual confidence.•Lily Kong is president of Singapore Management University and a social and cultural geographer whose work has examined topics including national identity, cultural heritage and higher education. More on this topicMDDI open to more Teochew screenings of Dear You; more flexible approach planned for dialect filmsIs there a place for Chinese dialects in film and TV today? Media veterans weigh in
Thursday, December 25, 2025
highly sensitive people
The Expert Editor
Psychology says people who always keep their phone on silent usually display these 7 unique traits
Isabella Chase by Isabella Chase |
December 24, 2025, 10:47 am
I recently sat in a coffee shop watching a friend frantically check her phone every few minutes.
The constant pings and buzzes seemed to control her attention, pulling her away from our conversation mid-sentence.
Meanwhile, my phone sat silent in my bag, undisturbed.
This scene plays out everywhere these days, but have you noticed how some people never seem bothered by notifications?
Psychology research suggests that people who consistently keep their phones on silent share certain personality traits that set them apart from the always-connected crowd.
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These aren’t just random preferences.
They reflect deeper patterns in how we process information, handle boundaries, and navigate modern life.
1) They have strong internal boundaries
People who keep their phones silent understand where they end and the world begins.
They recognize that constant availability isn’t a requirement for existing in 2024.
This boundary-setting extends far beyond phone settings.
These individuals typically protect their time, energy, and attention across all areas of life.
They say no to commitments that drain them.
They leave parties when they’re ready, not when others expect them to.
In my own life, switching to silent mode permanently changed how I interact with technology.
I check messages when I choose to, not when my device demands it.
The shift felt uncomfortable at first.
Friends wondered if something was wrong when I didn’t respond immediately.
But over time, the people who matter adjusted to my communication style.
2) They value deep focus over constant connection
Silent phone users often display an unusual ability to concentrate for extended periods.
While others jump between tasks with each notification, they sink into what psychologists call “flow states.”
These are the people finishing projects while colleagues complain about distractions.
They read entire books without checking social media.
They have actual conversations without glancing at screens.
Research shows it takes an average of 23 minutes to fully refocus after an interruption.
People who embrace silence understand this cost intuitively.
They guard their attention like a precious resource because they know scattered focus produces scattered results.
3) They tend to be highly sensitive to stimuli
Many silent phone advocates are what researchers call Highly Sensitive Persons (HSPs).
About 20% of the population falls into this category, processing sensory information more deeply than others.
For these individuals, constant notifications feel like assault on the nervous system.
• The sudden vibration triggers a stress response
• Message previews create mental to-do lists
• Group chat notifications multiply into overwhelming noise
• Even silent vibrations can be felt and become distracting
As someone with acute sensitivity to sensory input, I discovered that silence wasn’t just a preference.
It was self-preservation.
Crowded restaurants already overwhelm my senses.
Adding phone alerts to that environment would push me past my limit.
4) They prioritize real-world experiences
Watch silent phone users at dinner or during activities.
They’re fully present, engaged in the moment rather than split between physical and digital worlds.
This presence stems from a fundamental belief that real life happens in front of us, not on screens.
They choose eye contact over Instagram stories.
They prefer sunset walks to scrolling feeds.
Studies link this behavior to higher life satisfaction and stronger relationships.
When you’re not constantly pulled into digital demands, you have more capacity for actual experiences.
These people often report richer memories and deeper connections because they were genuinely there for life’s moments.
5) They demonstrate strong self-regulation
Keeping a phone on silent requires discipline that many find challenging.
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The dopamine hit from notifications is literally addictive, designed by tech companies to keep us checking.
People who resist this pull show remarkable self-control.
They’ve essentially opted out of a system engineered to capture attention.
This self-regulation typically appears in other life areas too.
They stick to exercise routines.
They maintain consistent sleep schedules.
They follow through on commitments without external reminders.
The ability to delay gratification and resist immediate rewards predicts success across virtually every life domain.
Silent phone users practice this skill dozens of times daily by not responding to digital demands instantly.
6) They often lean toward introversion
While not exclusively introverted, many silent phone users share introverted tendencies.
They need quiet time to recharge and find constant communication exhausting rather than energizing.
For introverts, each notification represents a social interaction requiring energy.
A buzzing phone means someone wants something – a response, attention, engagement.
Silent mode creates a buffer between internal world and external demands.
This doesn’t mean they’re antisocial.
Instead, they’re selective about when and how they engage.
They prefer meaningful exchanges over surface-level constant contact.
Quality trumps quantity in their communication style.
7) They embrace a minimalist mindset
Silent phone users often extend this simplicity philosophy throughout their lives.
They recognize that less noise equals more clarity.
Fewer interruptions mean deeper thinking.
Reduced digital clutter creates mental space.
This minimalist approach shows up in various ways.
Their homes tend toward simplicity rather than chaos.
They own fewer things but value them more.
They choose quality relationships over quantity of connections.
In my home, technology stays mostly hidden.
No TV dominates the living room.
Devices charge in drawers, not on countertops.
This physical minimalism supports mental clarity.
The same principle applies to notification settings.
Why allow hundreds of apps to interrupt your day when only a handful truly matter?
Final thoughts
The choice to keep your phone on silent reflects more than a simple setting preference.
It signals a deliberate approach to living in our hyperconnected age.
These individuals have figured out something crucial.
Being constantly available doesn’t make you more valuable, productive, or connected.
Real connection happens when we’re fully present, not when we’re perpetually distracted.
Consider experimenting with silent mode for just one day.
Notice what changes in your attention, stress levels, and interactions.
You might discover that the world keeps spinning just fine without immediate responses to every ping.
The most radical act in our notification-saturated culture might be simply choosing when to pay attention.
What would change in your life if you reclaimed that choice?
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Sunday, November 23, 2025
stressful for the education
SINGAPORE - It felt like the start of a high-stakes contest for Mr Harry Lee when his son Gabriel entered Primary 1 in 2022.
Gabriel was an SG50 baby, referring to those born in 2015 when Singapore celebrated its 50th year of independence. More than 37,000 babies were born that year – the highest number recorded between 2015 and 2024 – possibly resulting in greater competition for school places.
The registration process has several stages, with the earlier ones reserved for children with siblings in the school or parents who are alumni. These were not options for Gabriel.
So Mr Lee aimed for Phase 2B, which gives priority to children whose parents have volunteered at the school. They were hoping to enter a popular school in Hougang where the family lives because of its academic reputation and emphasis on values.
“Every day that we were on traffic warden duty counted as 45 minutes to these 40 hours, and we went once a week for 40 weeks,” said Mr Lee, who clocked his time mostly in the morning before work. Parents were required to fulfil at least 40 hours to be considered a parent volunteer. “The school did not guarantee us a spot, they told us it is not confirmed.”
“That year was very stressful for us,” said Mr Lee, 44, an actuary at an insurance company.
Gabriel eventually entered the school through Phase 2B. While Mr Lee acknowledged that competition exists in every education system, he felt much of the stress stems from uncertainty.
Clearer indicators of a child’s likelihood of getting a place – beyond historical balloting data – would help parents better gauge their odds in the current year, he said.
His experience is one of several pain points that parents face when navigating Singapore’s education system.
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Others point to an overemphasis on major exams, starting with the Primary School Leaving Examination (PSLE), a competitive culture between parents, and heavy time and financial resources poured into getting outside-school help.
Long heralded as a meritocratic engine and a “social leveller”, the system has increasingly been described as an “arms race” by parents, students, educators, and politicians alike.
This is despite significant changes by the Government over the last five-year term, including the end of streaming and bell-curved scoring at the PSLE, which graded pupils’ performance relative to one another.
Ahead of the May general election, Prime Minister Lawrence Wong had said during the Fullerton Rally that reforms in education have been made, along with enhancing parental leave and other investments in mental health and caregiving.
MPs from both the PAP and WP said they will continue to push for reforms in the House, including exploring alternatives to the PSLE, smaller class sizes and more support for educators.
But experts outline the challenge at hand: the Government having to push through changes while ensuring the system continues to deliver good results, and balancing the various interests from across society, making the issue a political hot potato.
The ‘arms race’ across milestones
Parents interviewed by Insight said navigating school life feels like running a race they cannot opt out of.
Some map out their children’s educational paths years ahead, while others turn to tuition and enrichment while trying to clinch spots in popular schools.
Students report stress over examinations and expectations, with some feeling their self-worth is tied to grades or the school they go to.
Political leaders have acknowledged the issue – during the debate on the President’s Address in September, PM Wong said the Government will do more in its new term to reduce the stakes of single examinations, and that Singapore has to move from a narrow meritocracy based solely on grades to a broader and more inclusive one.
Noting that education was a “great leveller” for his generation, he said that looking ahead, every parent and child should not regard it as a burden, but a springboard.
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At the same debate, Education Minister Desmond Lee said Singapore must break away from seeing education as an “arms race”.
His ministry will study how to reduce the stakes in exams, focus on non-academic aspects of the school experience, and guard against “hothousing” by families with more resources.
For many families, however, the race remains a daily reality. The first major hurdle is the PSLE, which determines the range of secondary schools a child can enter.
Ms Jyoti Khan, a mother of three, said the pressure of the system is “almost contagious”. When her children first entered primary school, she did not know how intense the journey could become.
By the time her older two had sat the PSLE, she found herself swept into the rhythms that govern so many families’ lives – sending her kids for tuition and planning the year around exams.
“All your peers, every parent, will be talking about ‘Oh, it’s a big year because it’s O levels, or it is a big year because it’s PSLE’, and you feel yourself joining in a little bit,” the 47-year-old communications consultant said.
Mr Sarfraz Khan and Mrs Jyoti Khan (second from right) with their children, Ayaan Khan, Aleena Khan and Aliya Khan (left to right). PHOTO: COURTESY OF JYOTI KHAN
Schools remind parents that exams are not the be all and end all, said Ms Khan, but the pressure is constant, amplified during conversations with others.
She tried not to pass that anxiety on to her children, now in Secondary 4 and 2, and Primary 2.
Yet, when her son applied to a secondary school through the Direct School Admission (DSA) pathway – which allows children to apply to schools through their non-academic strengths – she found herself helping him polish guitar pieces and write personal statements.
Associate Professor Vincent Chua, who teaches sociology and anthropology at the National University of Singapore, said competition persists because demand for “good schools” outstrips the supply.
“Even though the new PSLE (scoring) system is designed to be non-competitive… the distribution of schools still follows a curve: a small number of elite schools, a majority of good ones, and a few that are less sought after,” he said. “As long as this hierarchy exists, competition will persist.
“The ideal, where every school is seen as a good school, remains some distance away.”
Parents feel compelled to invest in tuition, enrichment, and constant monitoring, Prof Chua said, adding that exams become more challenging to distinguish top performers.
When education becomes a contest, social comparison becomes a way of life, he said. “The result is an escalating arms race that breeds stress, burnout, and declining youth well-being.”
People still judge others based on the schools they went to, said Ms Khan. “I’ve seen it.”
Many still believe that a child gains more from going to a good school – apart from being affiliated with a brand name, they get access to social and alumni networks, she added.
This strain continues as children move through the system, intensifying at major exams like the O, N and A levels – seen as gateways into higher education.
For tutor Siti Aishah, 60, whose daughter just took the N levels, the culture of comparing children by their academic achievements has become toxic. “Especially when you have family gatherings and everyone starts all the comparisons: ‘Hey, what’s your son doing?’”
Her older son went to a polytechnic and has been accepted to a local university.
But her daughter often compares her results with her brother’s, and worries that going to ITE means she might not get into university, she said.
Madam Aishah has sought to reassure her daughter, and told her: “Come what may, the results we accept. Because you are you, and your brother is your brother. You two are different.”
The former teacher feels there are now more pathways for students, and with hard work, children can overcome early setbacks and find their way.
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Over the years, the Government has introduced more routes to reduce reliance on single exams and assess students more holistically.
More changes have also been promised.
The Ministry of Education (MOE) in May said efforts are ongoing to refine the DSA selection process. Former education minister Chan Chun Sing said in January that this will be part of a review to ensure that schools focus on students’ development, that the selection process is objective and transparent, and DSA continues to be accessible.
DSA was started in 2004 to allow students to enter secondary school on other merits such as sports, arts or leadership. Other schemes followed, allowing students to secure polytechnic places before sitting major exams – though they must still meet minimum entry and GPA requirements.
In 2020, full subject-based banding was piloted in 28 secondary schools, where students can take subjects at various levels of difficulty.
The new PSLE scoring system – where students are graded on their individual performance from Achievement Levels (AL) 1 to 8 – was implemented from 2021.
These changes were meant to reduce fine differentiation of students and encourage families to choose schools based on their children’s learning needs and interests.
In 2023, the ministry also scrapped mid-year exams in all primary and secondary schools, with a similar removal phased into junior colleges (JCs) from 2024.
Most recently, MOE revised the JC admission criteria to count just five subjects instead of six, to give students more time for holistic development and extracurricular activities.
Students in 2027 will be the first to take the new Singapore-Cambridge Secondary Education Certificate examination – in place of the current O- and N-level exams. This change is in line with the shift to allow students to be assessed based on specific subject levels.
But the pressure has not really eased, parents said.
Ms Jeanette Wong, 46, a public servant, whose two children sat the PSLE under both scoring systems, said both of them were just as stressed.
Under the old T-score system, pupils’ results depended on how they performed relative to their peers. With the new AL scoring, more of them could end up with the same PSLE score, leaving more school placements to potentially be decided through balloting.
A group of parents, known as EveryChild.SG, has banded together since 2023 to push for reforms to tackle what they say is an education system that incentivises a narrow form of academic competition rather than broader growth.
“This hurts both the mental health and future competitiveness of our children,” said the group’s founder Pooja Bhandari.
While the group commends recent reforms including the removal of streaming, she said the core design of the system – especially around the PSLE – still fuels stress. EveryChild.SG’s proposals include reviewing classroom sizes and resourcing, and making PSLE optional.
Part of the difficulty in shifting away from a competitive mindset lies in the tension between education as a public and a private good, said Dr Jason Tan, an associate professor of policy, curriculum and leadership at the National Institute of Education (NIE).
While the Government sees education as a tool for social mobility and equity, parents naturally focus on securing advantages for their own children, he added.
“No parent wants to be put in a position years later where they feel regret for not having done more to support their children and give them a competitive edge,” Dr Tan said.
Structural inequalities, like access to social networks and financial resources, can also reinforce the arms race. “Private money is being spent, and that is very difficult for any government to monitor,” he noted.
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Families with greater financial means often have a head start, and non-academic pathways like the DSA can favour those able to afford lessons in music, sports, or the arts, NUS’ Prof Chua said.
For less-privileged families, for whom education is often the primary route for upward mobility, the stakes are even higher, he added. “So when parents push hard, it’s not irrational – it’s strategic. They are responding logically to a competitive system.”
Families in Singapore spent $1.8 billion on private tuition for their children in 2023, according to the latest government survey on household expenditure. The figure has risen over the years, from $1.1 billion in 2013 to $1.4 billion in 2018.
IPS senior research fellow Gillian Koh said private tuition has come under public scrutiny as it is considered a “deadweight loss of resources for society arising from the arms race in education”.
It has resulted in “lots of resources expended for uncertain outcomes”, she said, but also is what parents feel they must do if they wish the best for their children. “It provides them with a very important sense of agency.”
To parents like self-employed transportation manager Kelvin Koh, 49, having fewer resources means having to be more strategic.
He advised his daughter, who just took the O levels, to choose combined rather than pure academic subjects – even though she qualified for them – in order to maximise her chances of scoring well.
Combined subjects merge two subjects and are seen as less intensive than pure subjects at the O levels.
Self-employed transportation manager Kelvin Koh with his daughter Natasha. To parents like him, having fewer resources means having to be more strategic. He also opted for more affordable group tuition for his child. ST PHOTO: NG SOR LUAN
Mr Koh also opted for group tuition for his daughter, as this was more affordable than hiring personal tutors or enrolling in one of the “premium” enrichment chains.
This gave them some assurance that she does not lag behind her peers or fall short of academic goals, he said.
“Even though schools give the necessary assistance and guidance to students, some of us feel that it is not enough – comparing big classes in schools versus smaller groups in tuition – and we need more help.
“We are small fish, we try to be the best among all the rest.”
What reforms could come next?
Parents said they are hoping for more moves to relook major exams.
Ms Angela Leong, 51, hopes children will be able to find their place in a system that can offer multiple pathways, with less hinging on high-stakes exams.
Assessments and results continue to loom large even as the system goes through changes, said the homemaker with two children aged 13 and 17.
“Children these days have a lot of options, which is a good thing,” she said, adding the key is finding a path that best fits each child’s strengths.
Parents acknowledged there still needs to be a system to sort children into schools.
With secondary school students increasingly being able to customise subject combinations, Madam Aishah hopes for further changes to the PSLE.
“I hope they will implement bite-sized tests or projects that will determine if children have met the expectations of what is required, along with the standard tests. This is a less threatening environment for them.”
Similarly, Ms Wong hopes for an alternative to PSLE, which she feels has added “unnecessary pressure” for children at a young age.
“You send your children, from kindergarten level, to enrichment classes, all to ensure they have a good head start, but it is all geared towards the major exam which is unnecessarily pressurising,” she said.
Students report stress over examinations and expectations, with some feeling their self-worth is tied to grades or the school they go to. PHOTO: ST FILE
Removing the PSLE and piloting a through-train system from primary to lower secondary is something Jalan Besar GRC MP Denise Phua has been pushing for in the House since 2009.
She told Insight she will continue to press for these changes, along with the need to envision an education system fit for a rapidly changing world, and ensure a more equitable distribution of opportunities.
Asked if she thinks the Government will seriously consider her proposal for an alternative to the PSLE, Ms Phua replied: “It’s not an impossibility.”
She said a deep dive into the concerns around the PSLE and how to address them is needed, before piloting any alternative.
Ms Phua added that she believes there is “no turning back” on broadening the definition of success, but more must be done to ensure the labour market values non-academic skills and blue-collar jobs.
She and other MPs have spoken about the importance of re-tooling the education system to reduce pressure on students, while preparing them for a rapidly evolving economy.
Jurong East-Bukit Batok GRC MP David Hoe said students would benefit from more opportunities to discover their interests and strengths during their schooling years.
The former teacher noted that students make decisions such as their post-secondary courses of study that may shape their future careers, and said the system can do more to help them make these choices with greater self-awareness and confidence.
Ang Mo Kio GRC MP Darryl David, who chairs the Government Parliamentary Committee for Education, said more needs to be done to equip educators given how much information is readily available – especially with the rise of generative artificial intelligence.
WP’s Sengkang GRC MP Jamus Lim, an associate professor of economics at Essec Business School, said the opposition party will continue pushing for changes in its 2025 manifesto, including reducing class sizes.
He said the Government has taken steps towards reform but must do more to introduce flexibility and alternative pathways in the system.
This is especially vital now as AI begins to replicate some work done by white-collar workers, he said, raising concerns that the “cookie-cutter” route in the current system for most students may not prepare them for these changes.
He acknowledged that the system has worked well so far – meaning it is difficult to bring about fundamental changes.
His WP colleague, Aljunied GRC MP Kenneth Tiong, said major exams remain too determinative of eventual socio-economic outcomes – meaning that how students do in early exams often still determines their future educational journeys and certification. This has an impact on the jobs they eventually are able to land and hence their incomes.
This has also led to distortions in other areas like the housing market, where property prices near good schools have risen disproportionately, he said.
In 2023, research by real estate firm OrangeTee & Tie found that rental rates rose at a faster pace for condos near popular primary schools. Rents at condos near five of the 10 schools studied registered faster growth than their respective district median rents.
Ms Phua said the Government’s challenge is not a lack of awareness or will. “It is that of managing the difficult, albeit essential, change of steering a hitherto successful giant ship onto a new course without causing it to sink or creating a mutiny among its passengers.”
A system at a crossroads
Political observers also highlighted the challenges of enacting educational change.
Singapore Management University (SMU) law don Eugene Tan said since the system still works reasonably well, the need for a revamp can seem “almost counter-intuitive”.
IPS’ Dr Koh said education policy is “always a political hot potato” as some want change, while others resist, preferring a predictable system that lets their children excel – even as they voice complaints.
Policy reforms are difficult to push through as it means getting parents to forgo individual advantage, said NIE’s Dr Tan. “Parents may think that if they let go, their children will be on the losing end.”
NUS’ Prof Chua suggested strengthening distinctive programmes of every school, so that each has their own attractive niches and parents feel less pressure to chase a small handful of “top schools”.
Opening more places under Phase 2C of the Primary 1 registration process will also give those without connections or proximity a fairer chance, he added.
Various core PAP 4G leaders have helmed MOE since 2011, SMU’s Prof Tan noted.
Since 2015, Mr Ong Ye Kung, PM Wong, Mr Chan Chun Sing and Mr Desmond Lee have held the post. Before that, former deputy prime minister Heng Swee Keat – another key 4G leader before his retirement from politics in 2025 – was in the role.
This gives the current government leadership a good pulse of what works well and what needs to be reformed, Prof Tan said.
He noted that Mr Lee, the current minister, is known for his “quiet but impactful” style of leadership and as someone who goes to the ground to understand the issues.
On reworking the PSLE, Prof Tan said other school systems like those in Malaysia and Hong Kong have done away with their versions of the exam, and there is the possibility of making it optional.
The idea of having terminal national exams leading to the next phase of schooling is not universal, and other school systems do not have such exams, he noted.
Malaysia did away with its primary school leaving exam in 2021 and switched to evaluating students with school-based assessments, a system in place since 2011, while Hong Kong abolished its national exams in 2000 and used the results of internal assessments at Primary 5 and 6 to band students.
But of all the pressure points in the current system, Primary 1 admissions stand out, NIE’s Dr Tan noted.
“In an ostensibly meritocratic system, you have a Primary 1 admission system that still is so closely tied to what parents can bring to the process… This, to me, doesn’t seem to square with meritocracy,” he said.
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In the quest for reform, school admissions across the system remain crucial and need to be re-examined.
More than sorting students, these systems – for entry into primary school, secondary school or tertiary education – signal wider values and what the government of the day considers important, he noted.
They also represent gateways to further opportunity, he said, and shape expectations and influence choices beyond the classroom.
People’s anxieties are not just about exams or admissions, but the perceived hierarchy of academic or vocational routes, social prestige, and career prospects, Dr Tan said.
“Many people are simply acting on the basis of what they believe to be happening, because they want the best for themselves and their children.”
This underscores the need to consider the system as a whole, including how different skills are valued and rewarded in the economy, he added.
“You cannot just reform what happens within schools, without paying attention to what happens to people after school.”
The evolution of Singapore’s education system
1960: PSLE introduced
1971: O levels introduced
1973: T-score system for PSLE introduced
1975: A levels introduced
1979: Introduction of Special Assistance Plan (SAP) schools
1980: Streaming (special, express, and normal course) introduced
1984: Gifted Education Programme (GEP) starts
1994: Normal course differentiated into Normal (Academic) and Normal (Technical)
1995: Special course merges with express
2000: Compulsory Education Act passes, all Singaporean citizen children must attend primary school**
2004: Direct School Admission introduced
2013: Poly Foundation Programme established
2016: New PSLE Achievement Level (AL) system announced
2020: Full subject-based banding (SBB) is piloted***
2021: New AL scoring system for PSLE replaces old T-Score system
2024: Subjects taken at G1/G2/G3, removal of express, N(A) and N(T) as SBB is rolled out to all schools
2024: New Singapore-Cambridge Secondary Education Certificate (SEC) examinations announced to replace O and N level exams
2027: First batch of students will take the SEC exams
*T-score system was officially implemented and issued to candidates on results slips in 1982.
**It became effective in 2003.
***It was piloted from 2020-2023. Schools progressively adopted aspects of full subject-based banding from 2021-2023.
Tuesday, October 28, 2025
songs for Achievement Day 2025
A million dreams for 2R achievement day
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jw1YOW_Y0rA
Friends are friends forever
up to 1: 45 min
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lOnSToVsBz4
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