Kill the "Comfortable Singaporean": A Cultural Rebellion Declaration by a Local Entrepreneur

Author: eigen moomin

Compiled by: Deep Tide TechFlow

We are the descendants of those brave ones who fled due to war, sought refuge from famine, or simply gave up everything they had to migrate to this island in pursuit of a better life.

They have built a well-functioning nation, a place that tamed chaos and provided us with an orderly life. This kind of life allows us to go about our days step by step, without having to make any truly brave moves. Of course, you still need to work hard, but we have also become the first completely "self-tamed" immigrant nation. We extinguished the ambition that once drove our ancestors, filled with hunger and dreams, to cross the ocean in pursuit of a better life.

This is a wealthy land, and it has been so for decades. Our people are hardworking, diligent, and well-educated. Our universities have almost reached world-class standards, and they will be even better in the future. We are fortunate to be the only country in this world with a rational government and an efficient bureaucratic system.

However, after half a century of relentless effort, transforming from a barren land into fertile soil, where are our "crops"? Where are our local companies that we can proudly point to? Where are our "Ericsson" or "Nokia"?

Our self-designation has changed over time. From the initial "entrepôt," a trade hub connecting Chinese and Indian wealth, to the "manufacturing base," we carved silicon wafers and refined oil with labor. Today, we have taken off our factory uniforms and put on suits and lab coats, upgrading from a "base" to a "hub"—in finance, biotechnology, and a plethora of popular terms favored by The Economist.

Despite the changing times, the core relationship between Singaporeans and work has not changed. We remain the best "compradors" in the world. As a service-oriented economy, we train young people to serve in banks, funds, laboratories, and factories. From previously acting as intermediaries for Western companies to unlock Eastern wealth, to now packaging images for Eastern companies, integrating into a world still dominated by the West. The old "boss" has passed away, and a new "boss" has taken his place; he may look like us, but we are still just his workers.

As for those local "bosses": who is truly worthy of respect? Every so-called "success story" ultimately boils down to a form of rent-seeking behavior.

Here, you can make a lot of money by providing very little value. Find the new policy directions that the government is keen on, establish a consulting firm, and promise to implement these buzzwords. Apply for government subsidies, do no substantial work, just give dazzling speeches and hold "seminars." Or, if you're not good at blabbing, source OEM products from China, slap your own brand on them, and sell them for double the price as a "local entrepreneur." As for real estate tycoons, modern history has long provided the correct judgment on those who made their fortune through land.

Our smartest talents never create - they are too smart to know that this path is too risky! We Singaporeans are smart enough to understand that the safest way to achieve investment returns is to observe what others do and then do it better. We are good at math and intuitively know that the risk-reward ratio of entrepreneurship is far lower than being an investment banker, consultant, lawyer, doctor, or software engineer, and the latter has a higher Sharpe Ratio - look at this study, 90% of startups eventually fail!

And when that emptiness of "we are a country without a proud corporate fortress" comes upon us, we write articles, produce well-crafted CNA documentaries to explain why we are unable to innovate. In this way, we can comfortably refrain from taking any action, because at least we have "professionally" diagnosed our own problems.

Of course, the issue lies in culture. It is always related to culture. I could quote the names of thousands of economists and commentators, reference hundreds of minds smarter than mine, but in the end, it all comes down to that simple word: culture.

Smart person

Our education system is ruthless and merciless, rewarding those who succeed repeatedly while excluding those who may fail at any time. Those who commit even a single serious crime by messing up an exam must pay the price, being forced to walk a long path in life in Singapore (of course, except for those who are wealthy enough to afford studying abroad).

When you finally enter university, you have already gone through two rounds of fiercely competitive exams, each claiming to equip you with the necessary skills and knowledge to survive in modern society, but in reality, the most important lesson they teach you is: never be the one who gets eliminated.

In the face of such a system, the rational response is to do everything possible to climb up, to avoid being crushed by the "wood chip machine" at the bottom. But when every exam score determines your future, who can bear the pressure of not doing anything well? Spending an extra hour on a paper or in a tutoring class has the opportunity cost of not being able to continue a side project or learn a skill, and yet another door to a long and unknown future is closed. It artificially constrains a once colorful life into the pursuit of academic excellence, with the ultimate goal of becoming a professional in a certain field, which requires excellent qualifications to gain rewards.

Maybe you are the 1% of people who have never faced hardships in school – you are truly lucky! You have enough spare energy to discover what you really like and try some new things. Each cohort may have about 50 people like you. Half of them will enter the government sector and start their careers in a glamorous way, never to see the light of day again. The other half will leave Singapore for the United States and never come back.

Fortunately, the rest of us are still smart enough and diligent enough, and our excellent education teaches us how to solve any problems in the world for our bosses. However, without great leaders to guide the way, do we even know what problems we want to solve?

Smart, tasteless person

For 18 years, you have performed exceptionally well, but when you reach university, the script suddenly changes. Studying to get an 'A' and becoming a 'versatile talent' is no longer enough to be considered 'excellent.' Now, you should 'follow your passion' and 'create something meaningful.'

Of course, there is no time to waste on cultivating passion or a sense of meaning. Time in college is shorter now. The courses are harder, people are smarter, and they are more motivated. So, you can only adapt to the new script and hurriedly learn how to perform on the new stage.

You sign up for the school's entrepreneurship program and personally practice the spirit of entrepreneurship. You learn all the popular vocabulary and all the skills needed for presentations. You post exciting updates on LinkedIn, exaggerating every major achievement. You help the school meet its key performance indicators (KPI), proving that the school is cultivating successful entrepreneurs, which is part of the government's push for entrepreneurial development. Once you complete the year-long Silicon Valley (the holy land of entrepreneurship) internship funded by the school, a shiny badge will be added to your resume. Congratulations, you are now a school-certified entrepreneur.

Please note a small irony in Singapore: even the birth of entrepreneurs seems to be government-led. This is not a grassroots encouragement for those dreamers and mavericks, but a carefully choreographed dance, where Type-A kids check off tasks according to a script sent from across the ocean. Even those who perform well enough to barely imitate entrepreneurial behavior execute projects that are unimpressive. "Uber for hawker centers," "Amazon designed for Singapore," "another tutoring market platform," "another HDB rental property platform." Where is the ambition? Why do these ideas always stop here?

Give a Singaporean hundreds of thousands of dollars, and he will build a tutoring center. Localization and derivation, extracting value from existing problems rather than trying to solve any problems.

Intelligent, tasteful, and non-believing person

At some point, your taste will elevate. Perhaps a few years into your career, or maybe during your college years, you will realize that you can discern all the nonsense that exists around us.

The current problem is that you have all these brilliant ideas and observations, but they are trapped by layers of self-sabotage. You need absolute certainty before you can speak up, and even then, each idea is pre-packaged with its corresponding rebuttal. You shy away from conversations that could be questioned; unless you are completely sure, you remain silent in meetings; in discussions where others might know more than you, you take a back seat. Nowadays, there is a common phenomenon in society where people are embarrassed to express their opinions, and even simple expressions are hard to avoid.

The primary consequence is that we ultimately miss countless opportunities to do interesting things. When you present yourself to the world, even if imperfectly, you allow others to shape your image, your beliefs, and your interests. When someone needs to find someone to help with something or needs to hear an opinion, the person who often comes to mind is the one who exists in this world. If you don't write or express yourself, you exclude yourself and may not even be valued. Our shyness minimizes the aspects of being noticed, and this is precisely the small tragedy of communication that each of us experiences daily.

The deeper tragedy is that this is precisely the core reason we always remain in the role of intermediaries. Not only because our greatest dream is to work for foreign companies or execute the ideas of others, but also because we do not believe our own ideas are worthy of unconditional existence. We have been thoroughly trained to habitually retreat, hesitate, and avoid making mistakes, to the point that we have lost the basic belief in our own observational skills.

I hope we can change this situation. I hope we can face our fears and mistakes openly, and boldly proclaim our beliefs. The ultimate goal is to have the autonomy to act, no longer acting as intermediaries, but starting to take control of our own destiny. However, the autonomy to act first requires the autonomy of thought - firmly believing that when you see something, it is important that you see it, and that you will express it without any apology.

Without this basic belief, we will always be compradors. We understand everything, yet have no power to decide anything.

Intelligent, tasteful, and faithful, but without willpower.

I am deeply afraid of becoming someone who can only survive within the Singapore system, afraid of being so overly specialized that I can only thrive in this environment while inevitably withering away elsewhere. I believe I am smart enough to do what I want to do; I also have taste and can discern what is important; I even have enough confidence in my observational skills to dare to write this perhaps overly embellished article for the world to read.

But do I have the will to take action? How much time have I spent thinking about these issues, having endless lunches and coffees with friends, all agreeing that "some things must be changed by some people"?

I gradually realized: you can't wait for others to change Singapore. Everything you enjoy now—even that behemoth that is seen as a god, that government you curse in failure and pray to in need—exists because certain people dedicated their lives to building it. If you loathe the status quo, either take action yourself or stop pretending that complaining will solve the problem.

Doing anything difficult requires sacrifice, especially when the alternative choice – a comfortable life in Singapore – is almost certain to make you happier. But I hope to stop dreaming of the wonderful life that others long for and instead start dreaming of the hard life that I am willing to experience. In such a life, I am no longer a Singaporean living a comfortable life who is afraid to commit to anything, but rather a person who believes in my ability to create anything I can imagine and ultimately bring it to fruition.

For the first 22 years of my life, I followed a predetermined path: attending the right schools, having the right ambitions, and pursuing the right goals. In college, like everyone else, I spent all my summer vacations interning at big tech companies, all in hopes of ultimately landing that coveted position that everyone dreams of. I had everything that every outstanding Singaporean dreams of: a high-paying job that allows you to live comfortably outside of work.

But I turned it down and went to San Francisco to try my luck. I exchanged my last year of college — that carefree time of partying and enjoying with friends — for weekends of work in a strange city. There, I was all alone, and the people I knew were few. I had a beloved partner, and I knew we would spend our lives together, but I chose to spend the next few years separated by a vast ocean.

I write this not to perform, not to win your admiration for the sacrifices I've made in my "struggle"—people braver than me have given more for less reward. On the contrary, I write this because I take pride in the only time I was brave in my life: encountering that "comfortable Singaporean" on the road and then killing him.

Empty talk is useless, you have no reason to believe me. But when I come back, I will create something worth trading ten years of my life for.