The sickening sound of sucking up

Close-up of a billboard in Bukit Batok

Sometimes timber houses can look very solid from the outside, but a sharp eye may spot signs of rot in the wood. The excessive adulation of Lee Kuan Yew, on the first anniversary of his death, may be a sign of decay in the state apparatus.

Throughout last week, when social media collectively vomited in disgust at what looked like state-organised worship, I tried to check myself. Maybe it’s only the people active on social media who are feeling disgusted, I suggested to myself. Maybe there are indeed huge numbers of Singaporeans who think it entirely appropriate to prostrate themselves, light joss-sticks, perhaps even ululate in the streets (if they knew how), to mark the anniversary.

Then, in this morning’s Today newspaper, we have former prime minister Goh Chok Tong trying to distance himself from all this inflated zeal. “I, too, won’t want to remember him in a very big way,” he was quoted as saying.

It appears that he was responding to the criticism levelled by Lee Kuan Yew’s daughter Lee Wei Ling. The story in Today gives some details:

In a Facebook post on Friday (March 25) evening, which has since been shared by around 7,000 users of the social network, Dr Lee [Wei Ling] wrote that her father would have objected to the “hero worship” just a year after his death.

“In looking at acts of commemoration in general, I would ask how the time, effort, and resources used to prepare those would benefit Singapore and Singaporeans,” she wrote.

“I also question the need for a commemoration so close after Papa’s (death), when last year’s event still hangs heavy on the hearts and minds of some people.”

Unlike other leaders, Mr Lee was not one who endorsed cronyism and was “dead set against a personality cult”, Dr Lee said.

Individuals and community groups had planned more than 100 events, from tree-planting activities to multiple remembrance sites and family carnivals, to mark Mr Lee’s first death anniversary on March 23, some of which began at the start of the month.

Recalling Mr Lee’s reaction to the rousing welcome during her first visit with him to China in 1976 — when young children lined the streets and chanted loudly upon their arrival — Dr Lee wrote: “It was very contrived and my father was not impressed. We are Singaporeans, not prone to excessive, unnatural displays of emotion.”

— Today, 28 March 2016, Commemoration or glorification? Question raised over Mr Lee’s death anniversary

The backtracking by Goh indicates that the political elite is now realising how badly the whole exercise is being received. Tactical retreat suggests that they can’t marshall the confidence that there is any “silent majority” that actually wants such glorification, otherwise they would have stood their ground.

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Three of the many billboards put up in Bukit Batok

How did it come to this? — I think this is an interesting question. Knowing the way government works in Singapore, and considering the huge sums of taxpayer money spent (e.g. printing commemorative schoolbooks), this was no bottom-up idea. It came from the top. Even then, it bears a little more examination.

With “more than 100 events”, it was an idea that necessarily percolated to many different departments for implementation. But all of us who have worked within large organisations will also know that quite often the original idea comes out very differently in the end. The king might have ordered 10,000 geese, but eventually 23 ducks (disguised as geese) might be delivered. Or he might have wished for 16 candles; instead, 160 were lit and burned the house down.

The typical story would be one where the top brass passes an order to do something, but the underlings do not share the same enthusiasm. There is inertia, silent resistance and subtle alteration, and what eventuates is a pale shadow of the initial idea. Most of us have seen this phenomenon around us where we work.

Now, here’s the funny thing. If the “more than 100 events” were a pale shadow of the initial idea, then the idea must have been much, much bigger — something North Korean-style. This would be hard to believe. Yes, our government can be rather full of themselves, yes, they are often insecure enough to look to circuses to distract the crowds, but they are not delusional.

More likely, it was a case of asking for 16 candles and getting a conflagration. But the organisational dynamics of getting to a conflagration is quite different from shrinking the king’s wish for 10,000 geese to 23 ducks. The dynamics would be akin to snowballing. Instead of encountering organisational resistance and inertia, the idea gained momentum as it got implemented.

What is the organisational psychology that delivers such a result?

In Singapore we have a lovely term for it: carrying balls. ‘Balls’, not as in snowballs, but testicles. Elsewhere the preferred term is ‘lick ass’.

For example, I find it hard to believe that the cabinet would have given detailed orders to the Straits Times to carry exactly this and that story and so many pages. Somewhere along the line, people at that newspaper decided to devote — wait for it — eleven pages to mark the anniversary. See the front page of the newspaper’s 23 March 2016 edition below:

I wonder too if they had originally planned to devote the front page to it as well. Alas, two tragedies struck and the one-year-old corpse had to make way?

Speaking of the two tragedies, I want to draw your attention to a classic example of our mainstream media’s readiness to help our government look good. The Brussels blasts were reported with a straightforward headline: “Brussels airport, subway hit by blasts; dozens dead”. But the deaths of two technicians on our metro line were headlined very differently. “SMRT orders safety review after train runs into two” puts the emphasis on the corrective action, to subliminally say It’s being looked into and will be fixed! Moreover, the headline doesn’t say “two dead” but “train runs into two”.

The headlines alone provide an example of testicle carriage.

Two inside pages from among the eleven pages — note how schools and children were roped in.

The same psychology was at work in planning the anniversary events, from schools to town councils. Juniors were trying to impress their bosses with ardour. But any organisation where carrying balls is priority is one that is rotting from within. People no longer speak honestly, no longer think independently, and eventually are no longer able to pass on bad news.

That cannot be the kind of robust state apparatus we need in the long run.