Pragmatism is a willingness to learn best practices from any source, anywhere in the world. Goh Keng Swee told me, “Kishore, whatever problem Singapore faces, someone, somewhere has faced it before. Find out how they solved it, and then you can apply that solution to Singapore.” As I told my students, Singapore has managed to become the world's best copycat nation.
Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy also found success by emulating best practices from other schools. McKinsey was kind enough to share many of them with us, and we continued to learn more. Amazingly, we were so successful that within a decade, we joined the premier league of sister institutions such as the Global Public Policy Network (GPPN) and the Association of International Schools. Getting into GPPN wasn't easy; we had to enter into “double degree” agreements with Columbia University, the London School of Economics, and the founding school of Science and Technology in Political Science.
Before the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy came into existence, many universities in Singapore were successful in signing double degree program agreements by just paying an additional fee. We are probably the first university to have a double degree program agreement with an Ivy League university without paying a fee. This means that our academic standards have been recognised by some of the best universities in the field.
Integrity has always been the hardest principle to implement. As I wrote in 1990 in an essay called “Ten Commandments for Developing Countries in the 1990s,” “We must accept that corruption is the biggest cause of failure to develop.” Singapore's three founding fathers, Lee Kuan Yew, Goh Keng Swee and S. Rajaratnam, were extraordinarily honest. As such, they set a very high standard of integrity for us all to follow.
To explain how it works in Singapore, I told my students what happened when I was leaving Li Ka-shing's office after securing a donation of S$100 million. As is customary in Hong Kong, Li gifted me a Montblanc pen. I groaned secretly. I knew that if I kept it, I would have to pay NUS about S$500 for the pen. I didn't need the Montblanc pen, so I was tempted to return it to NUS and not keep it. But I considered the possibility that one day, like a year later, Li might visit my office. When Li visited, I proudly showed him the pen I had given him. I didn't tell him that I had to pay NUS S$500 to keep the gift.
High standards of integrity have served Singapore well. But implementing them is not easy. I heard a sad story that happened when a graduate of Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy returned to the Central Asian country. He decided to implement the principle of meritocracy in the organization he was elected to lead. He promoted the best performing officers and fired a few non-performers. Unfortunately, one of the fired non-performers was a relative of the country's president. As a result, this graduate of Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy lost his job for trying to implement his “secret” formula for Singapore's success in a society that did not recognize the core principles behind it.
This failure needs to be weighed against the stories of hundreds of people who, in some way, put into practice the lessons of good governance they learned at the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy, and in doing so, improved the lives of thousands, even millions, of people.
For example, one of our graduates from the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy has used lessons learned from Singapore to help many people by eliminating long wait times in hospitals in the Philippines. Going to the doctor has become less of a pain. It has been a source of great satisfaction to know that my work as a dean is essentially improving the lives of many people through the talents of our graduates.
Kishore Mahbubani served as President of the United Nations Security Council from 2001 to 2002. Photo: Handout
Recognized as a key voice in Asia's rise
The Deanship of the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy also helped me open another significant chapter in my life: the publication of several books that had some impact in terms of changing world opinion. When Tony Tan offered me the Deanship, he said that I should publish a book to enhance my credibility in the academic community. Luckily, he made this comment in 2003, when I was still in New York. I hit the ground running and founded a New York publishing house, PublicAffairs.
In fact, PublicAffairs has published five of my books, including this one. In a way, it's notable that PublicAffairs continued to publish my books after the publication of my first book, Beyond the Age of Innocence. The book was not a financial success; I received less than my advance in royalties, and the publisher was probably in the red. Maybe the book failed because its purpose was to offer advice from a non-American to Americans about how America could do better in its relations with the world. The advice may have been good (and I think it was, and it was certainly offered in the spirit of wishing America well), but I found that Americans don't really want advice from non-Americans.
I thought my publishing career with Public Affairs was over. Luckily, they gave me a second chance. The New Asian Hemisphere, published in 2008, was a success. This time, I more than made back my advance and the book was translated into many languages, including Arabic, Chinese, Dutch, French, German, Indonesian, Italian, Japanese, Korean, Spanish and Vietnamese. The book's most glamorous launch party was held in Cairo, Egypt, with the pyramids as its backdrop.
Cover of Kishore Mahbubani's book Living in the Asian Century: An Undiplomatic Memoir. Publisher: PublicAffairs.
The book also led to many speaking invitations, which were quite lucrative. The book and the speaking opportunities it generated made me one of the primary storytellers in the biggest story of our time – Asia's return to the world stage. As a result, I was included in some exclusive lists of the world's most influential global intellectuals. In 2009, the Financial Times included me on a short, exclusive list of 50 people “shaping the debate on the future of capitalism,” which significantly boosted my global status. The list included such global luminaries as Barack Obama, Wen Jiabao, and Angela Merkel.
Similarly, Foreign Policy and Prospect magazines selected me for their lists of the Top 100 Public Intellectuals in 2005. I was pleased that my work and writings had been included among those of such global luminaries. I knew that this could only lead to good things, and that my enhanced global intellectual status would benefit my work as Dean of the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy.
Lee Kuan Yew's scathing criticism
Little did I know that I was sowing the seeds of my own destruction. Some in the powers that be in Singapore were unhappy about my growing profile. I should have taken my cue from The Straits Times, which, to say the least, is highly sensitive to the views of the Singaporean government. It sends out precise signals of approval and disapproval. It was therefore significant that The Straits Times was reluctant to report my inclusion on several global lists, despite extensive coverage in newspapers in other parts of the world, such as India.
Foreign Policy and Prospect may have unintentionally done me a great disservice by putting me on their first list in 2005, and Lee Kuan Yew on their second list in 2008. At the time, I didn't care much about it. Lee was still a great figure in Singapore and in the world. I was, at best, an unknown dean or writer. I didn't think that this would adversely affect my relationship with Lee.
Singapore's founding father Lee Kuan Yew addresses delegates at the Global Brand Forum in Singapore on August 16, 2004. Photo: AFP
But then some strange things happened. Around this time, at a small dinner hosted by Mr Lee at the Istana, I asked him a question and he severely reprimanded me. Friends around the table noticed and pointed this out to me. Later, at a later event, when I asked him a question, he reprimanded me even more. More friends noticed this.
And yet these seemed like small, isolated incidents against the larger backdrop of how things seemed to be going well for the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy and for me. The School's global stature continued to rise. Similarly, my personal stature continued to rise too. I was invited every year to attend the World Economic Forum's annual Davos meeting. Klaus Schwab, founder of the World Economic Forum, included me in his exclusive Global University Leaders Forum (GULF), comprised primarily of university presidents and just the two of us: the president of the University of Hong Kong and the dean of the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy.
“On February 21, 2006, when Larry Summers, one of GULF's two presidents, had to suddenly step down, Klaus Schwab had to find a replacement. Instead of turning to other Ivy League university presidents, Klaus asked me to be co-leader of GULF. It was a great honor to be recognized by this noble group.”
Excerpted from “Living the Asian Century: An Undiplomatic Memoir” by Kishore Mahbubani. Published by PublicAffairs, a Hachette Book Group company. Available at your local bookstore.
