Eddie Teo, chairman of the PSC, recently made a defence of the scholarship system in Singapore. Earlier this year, he wrote an open letter discussing the characteristics and qualities which scholars should ideally possess.
He was appointed chairman of the PSC only in 2008, and it seems he has been more vocal than his predecessors (taking a look at the public speeches published online at the PSC website). One can’t help wondering if there is any serious problem in the scholarship system currently run by the PSC, for its chairman to speak on it twice this year, with a similar focus.
Any discussion of the scholarship system here cannot avoid the sensitive issues of meritocracy, elitism, and even race. The scholarship system is also particularly vulnerable to political criticism by all sides; given that many scholars actually rise to high positions (remember the Tan Yong Soon cooking trip, which was such a hot online topic?), and any mis-step on their part hurts the reputation of the scholarship system.
Like it or not, the scholarship system (used here in general terms) is deeply entrenched in Singapore, to the extent it has become a cultural norm. When you point out to your friend that this guy or girl is ‘a scholar’, the immediate response will be ‘Wow’, with the understanding that he or she is likely to be brilliant, on an undergraduate scholarship sponsored by the government, and will someday hold leadership positions in the civil service. This seems to be an aberration of the term ‘scholar’ as widely used elsewhere, and truly uniquely Singaporean.
Lack of talent
Singapore’s rapid development was partly due to the existence of a strong and effective bureaucracy, which enabled the political leadership to implement economic and social policies. Furthermore, it is also recognised in economic studies that an efficient civil service, with sound legal and judicial institutions, can help to foster economic development, at least in the early stage. As a result, it has been ingrained in the mind of the political leadership that the Singapore civil service plays a major role in all aspects of governance. In fact most Singaporeans rely heavily on the work of the civil service, both ‘invisible’ and ‘visible’, to get by their daily lives.
Obviously the strength of the civil service lies in its staff – civil servants. As this The Economist article explains, the civil service will meet greater challenges:
It is not simply a matter of replacing one set of mandarins with another: in an age when most policy issues (from climate change to migration) cut across ministries and state boundaries, the civil servants of tomorrow will have to be lateral thinkers, not pen-pushers
Hence a stronger impetus for talented people to join the civil service. But as the article explains, the government competes for talent with the private sector. In other advanced economies, non-government organisations such as non-profit activist groups, charities etc compete for talent as well. Singapore doesn’t face this challenge, since we lack a vibrant NGO sector. Instead our talent is lured to the lucrative business sector, especially MNCs, given their omnipresence here.
Even if the government is able to recruit talent, it finds a hard time retaining them, as Singapore ministers have often lamented (citing this as a reason for the relatively high compensation paid to top civil servants). The Economist sums it up, “Today’s high-flyers want multi-disciplinary careers, the ability to rise as high and fast as their talents allow, and the freedom to move in and out of government work”, and “Even those keenest on working for the nation may find their loyalty tested”.
Hence the possible shortage of talent scenario in public service is real and clear.
Why Scholarship System
The scholarship system is nothing new here, and is in fact a remnant of the colonial government. Notable figures such as Dr Goh Keng Swee took up a government scholarship and returned to Singapore to fulfil their bonds. The colonial government’s intention was to use local talent in the administration, especially in the middle and junior levels, and also part of a half-hearted humanitarian policy to ‘educate’ some locals.
However, as the PSC stated, scholarships are now supposed to attract ‘the best and brightest’, and those with the passion to serve Singapore. Hence the PSC has a first-mover advantage: by sponsoring the education of talented people, they are binding them to public service for a few years, after which these talented people will (hopefully) remain in their jobs. This first-mover advantage is the reason why the scholarship system exists. It’s like you’re buying a house, and you’ve a row of houses to view. But one kiasu house owner approaches you directly, and offers you a ‘trial stay’ period. And his house is indeed fantastic, so you decide to buy the house and continue staying there, without reviewing other choices, even if some happen to be better.
Those with genuine passion are likely to continue in public service, while others may be tempted by the private sector. Hence the government throws in a few carrots: remunerations benchmarked to the private sector, fast-track career advancement, ministry rotations etc. Ditto for non-PSC, ministry-specific scholarships.
Many Problems, Few Real Ones
There are many perceived problems of the scholarship system in Singapore, but only a few are structural ones. The rest are largely superficial and do not really hurt the long-term objective, that is, to provide a first-mover advantage for the civil service.
There is one important structural defect of this system, which is also the causal factor of several criticisms hurled against the scholarships. It’s the problem of adverse selection. In this context, it means the possibility of ‘bad’ people receiving scholarships, because of information asymmetry between applicants and scholarship providers.
The benefits of a scholarship are well-known – a sponsored university education, stable job, fast-track career route and prestige bestowed by society (why we do this demands another write-up, but is it because of our Confucian tradition?). Hence these benefits will attract applicants, some with a genuine interest in public service, and some who just want a free ride (like this author).
For example, the PSC received over 2500 applications this year (lol personally I think this number seems inflated, because I think there are some people like me who want ministry-specific scholarships, but have to apply through a centralised system at the PSC website. Smart work of the PSC; it can grab all the potential talent, and then filter the rest which it doesn’t want to the separate ministries). Out of these, how many are passionate (and will remain) in public service? How many just want an overseas education paid by the government (the freeloaders)? Then there are those who are clearly not talented (like me), who cannot be groomed for top positions or simply not competent enough, yet also apply for their own reasons.
The PSC doesn’t know. All the applicants claim to be the ones the PSC is looking for. There is a need to match the interests of the PSC and that of the applicants. So the PSC solves this information asymmetry by screening. High barriers of entry are erected; you need to take 11 academic units to be considered for consideration for interview, excellent CCA records, testimonies of strong leadership etc. Throw in the psychological tests, and 14-man-strong interview panel with a couple of rounds before the ‘grand finale’, and the PSC effectively filters down to under a hundred successful applicants.
I don’t really believe the criticisms that the PSC ONLY looks out for straight-A students. But with so many applicants, with different capabilities, it is forced by the problem of adverse selection to take in the straight-A applicants and ignore the rest. Intellectual prowess is a signal by applicants that they have some potential in whatever the PSC wants, in their case, probably the need to be analytical of policies etc. Of course one doesn’t need straight As to analyse policies, and straight As don’t mean one can analyse policies well. Yet this is reality: because we lack complete information on each other, we’ve to depend on signalling and screening (sounds like dating).
So the emphasis on academic ability in Singapore is partly due to this information imbalance. Thus we’ve the criticisms coming along with it, about the inflexibility of the education system etc, how the scholars seem so similar in profile etc…
Secondly, the nature of government means the performance indicators of scholars (or other civil servants) are sometimes not hard-rock evidence. A statistician may be using a slower method of calculation, and hinders the rest of government services. In the private sector, because of competition, the statistician will be under pressure by his supervisor to improve on his technique, as the impact of his work on business profits may be directly felt. In contrast, the public sector statistician does not see the impact of his work directly, and he continues using his slower method unknowingly.
So how do we determine the efficiency and effectiveness of a scholar civil servant? Not sure. Do they provide the ‘booster’ as we expect? If we can’t measure their performance well, then why the scholarship system, given it also aims to groom future leaders?
No Solution, Only Words of Caution
Actually the scholarship system is part of the answer to the shortage of talent problem; bearing in mind others join the civil service upon graduation. Hence there is also a need to attract those who are still studying.
As I mentioned, the scholarship system is here to stay. But my generation presents some dangers which will harm this system if left unchecked:
First, if our scholars seek to advance only their self-interest, it indicates that they may be unable to work in a team. Much of public service work today involves teamwork because Singapore’s problems are becoming more complex and involve many Ministries, and no single individual can solve them. Besides, public policy making is always the product of a group effort, of repeated discussions and revisions. From the first idea to the Cabinet paper, proposals will involve many people and countless drafts. Some young officers are not used to this and do not feel a close enough sense of ownership with the final product. This is the way government works and is in fact a strength of our system because this is the way we gather different perspectives and considerations into a well thought-through solution. Second, if fewer and fewer young scholars desire ground postings, more and more of them may become divorced from ground issues and will start to lose their empathy for ordinary Singaporeans. The problem is not yet so widespread that it cannot be rolled back. There is still time for the Public Service to correct the trend.
(Eddie Teo, 31 October 2009; bolded words are mine)
Ironically, the demands of my generation seem to be on a collision course with the interests of the government. Looks like public service and scholarships need some job re-designing as well.


