Kishore Mahbubani, a veteran diplomat and esteemed public intellectual from Singapore, has released his memoirs titled *Living the Asian Century*. In this reflective work, Mahbubani chronicles his journey from humble beginnings in a developing Singapore to becoming the founding dean of the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy. His story is a testament to the transformative opportunities available in Singapore, charting his rise from an underweight child with ambitions of becoming a textile salesman to an influential figure on the global stage.
In the final part of his memoirs, Mahbubani shares insights into the principles that he believes underpinned Singapore’s remarkable success. He recounts his experiences teaching at the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy, where many international students sought to understand the "secret" behind Singapore’s exceptional governance. Mahbubani distilled this secret into a simple, memorable acronym: MPH—Meritocracy, Pragmatism, and Honesty.
Meritocracy, as Mahbubani explains, is about selecting the best and most capable individuals to lead and manage institutions, whether in government, business, or academia. Since Singapore’s independence in 1965, founding Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew ensured that only the most qualified individuals were chosen to serve in government roles. Following this principle, Mahbubani made it a priority to recruit top talent for leadership positions within the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy, both in academic and administrative capacities.
Pragmatism, the second component of the MPH framework, refers to the practical and flexible approach that has characterized Singapore’s policy-making. This pragmatic mindset enabled Singapore to adapt to changing global conditions and navigate challenges effectively.
Honesty, the final pillar, underscores the importance of integrity and transparency in governance. Mahbubani argues that these values are essential for building trust and ensuring long-term success.
Mahbubani’s international recognition as a public intellectual and his promotion of Singapore’s governance model, however, did not always sit well with Lee Kuan Yew, who was known for his meticulous control over Singapore’s public image and policies. This tension highlights the complexity of navigating Singapore’s political landscape, even for someone as accomplished as Mahbubani.
In sharing these reflections, Mahbubani offers valuable lessons for policymakers and leaders worldwide, emphasizing that the principles of meritocracy, pragmatism, and honesty are not just abstract ideals but practical tools that can drive a nation’s progress. His memoir serves as both a personal narrative and a guide for understanding the dynamics of Singapore’s economic and political success.
An image of the late Lee Kuan Yew, Singapore’s first Prime Minister, displayed on a electronic board above the crowd during the National Day Parade in Singapore on August 9, 2015. Photo: EPA
Many of the individuals we selected went on to occupy prominent leadership roles across the globe. Stavros Yiannouka became the CEO of the World Innovation Summit for Education in Qatar, Astrid Tuminez was appointed president of Utah Valley University, and Hui Weng Tat assumed the role of dean at the Nazarbayev University Graduate School of Public Policy in Astana, Kazakhstan. We sought out exceptional faculty from all nationalities, driven by a commitment to excellence.
Our pragmatic approach was grounded in the belief that best practices could be learned from anywhere in the world. Goh Keng Swee famously advised, “Kishore, no matter what problem Singapore faces, someone, somewhere, has faced it before. Let’s discover how they solved it, and then adapt that solution for Singapore.” As I often told our students, Singapore’s success was built on being the best copycat nation in the world.
The Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy thrived by emulating the best practices of other prestigious institutions. We had the good fortune of learning from McKinsey, among others, and we continually sought out more. Remarkably, within a decade, we had earned a place among elite global institutions like the Global Public Policy Network (GPPN) and the Association of Professional Schools of International Affairs. Gaining entry into the GPPN was no small feat—we had to secure “double-degree” agreements with founding schools such as Columbia University, the London School of Economics, and Sciences Po.
Prior to the establishment of the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy, most Singaporean universities had only managed to sign double-degree programs by paying a premium. We broke new ground by securing a double-degree agreement with an Ivy League institution without any financial inducement, a testament to the strength of our academic standards, which were recognized by some of the world’s leading institutions.
Upholding honesty was perhaps our greatest challenge. As I wrote in my essay, “The Ten Commandments for Developing Countries in the Nineties,” back in 1990, “Thou shalt acknowledge that corruption is the single most important cause of development failures.” The three founding fathers of Singapore—Lee Kuan Yew, Goh Keng Swee, and S. Rajaratnam—embodied exceptional integrity. They set incredibly high standards of probity, which we all aspired to uphold.
My tenure as Dean of the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy marked the beginning of a pivotal chapter in my life: the publication of several books that played a role in shaping global perspectives. When Tony Tan offered me the deanship, he advised me that enhancing my credibility within the academic community would necessitate the publication of a book. This guidance came while I was still in New York in 2003, and I took immediate action, securing a publisher, PublicAffairs.
PublicAffairs has since published five of my books, including the present one. It is noteworthy that they continued to support my work even after the first book, *Beyond the Age of Innocence*, failed to meet financial expectations. The royalties I received did not cover the advance, likely resulting in a loss for the publisher. The book’s primary objective was to provide insights, from a non-American perspective, on how the United States could better manage its international relations. Although I believe the advice was sound and offered in a spirit of wanting to see the United States thrive, I came to understand that Americans are generally disinclined to accept advice from non-Americans.
At that point, I assumed my publishing journey with PublicAffairs had reached its conclusion. However, they extended a second opportunity, which led to the release of *The New Asian Hemisphere* in 2008. This book proved successful, surpassing its advance and being translated into numerous languages, including Arabic, Mandarin, Dutch, French, German, Bahasa Indonesian, Italian, Japanese, Korean, Spanish, and Vietnamese. The most remarkable launch event for this book occurred in Cairo, Egypt, against the majestic backdrop of the pyramids.
This experience underscored the significance of perseverance and the importance of finding a receptive audience for ideas that challenge the status quo. Through these publications, I have been fortunate to contribute to the global discourse on Asia’s rise and its implications for the world.
The publication of my book catalyzed a series of lucrative speaking engagements and solidified my role as a principal narrator of one of the most compelling narratives of our era: Asia's resurgence on the global stage. This prominence, in turn, earned me a place on several exclusive lists of the world's most influential global public intellectuals. A notable example of this recognition came from the *Financial Times*, which significantly elevated my global standing by including me in its 2009 list of 50 individuals who would "shape debate on the future of capitalism," alongside luminaries such as Barack Obama, Wen Jiabao, and Angela Merkel.
Similarly, *Foreign Policy* and *Prospect* magazines recognized me in their 2005 lists of the top 100 public intellectuals, an honor that positioned my writings and thoughts among the world's most influential minds. I was gratified to see my work acknowledged alongside such esteemed figures and believed that this recognition would further bolster my effectiveness as the Dean of the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy.
However, I underestimated the complexities of such visibility. Unbeknownst to me, my growing profile was sowing the seeds of what would become a challenging chapter in my career. Certain members of the Singaporean establishment were not pleased with my increasing prominence on the global intellectual stage. In retrospect, I should have recognized the subtle cues, particularly from *The Straits Times*, which, being acutely attuned to the sentiments of the Singaporean government, provides a reliable barometer of official approval or disapproval. The newspaper’s reluctance to cover my inclusion in these prestigious global lists—coverage that was enthusiastically provided by newspapers in other parts of the world, such as India—should have signaled the beginning of a tension I had not anticipated.
The inclusion of my name in the *Foreign Policy* and *Prospect* lists, while a personal honor, may have inadvertently created friction. Particularly when, in 2008, these publications included Lee Kuan Yew in their subsequent lists. At the time, I did not perceive this as a potential issue. After all, Mr. Lee was an iconic figure, not just in Singapore but globally, while I was merely an emerging academic and author. I had not imagined that this growing international recognition could strain my relationship with such a towering figure.
Yet some strange things did happen. Around that time, at a small dinner hosted by Mr Lee at the Istana, Mr Lee sharply put me down when I asked him a question. My friends around the table noticed this and pointed it out to me. I was given an even sharper put-down by Mr Lee when I posed a question to him at a subsequent event. More of my friends noticed this.
Still, these appeared to be small, isolated events against a larger backdrop in which things were seemingly going swimmingly well, both for the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy and for me. The global standing of the school continued to rise. Similarly, my personal standing continued to grow. I was invited to attend the annual Davos meeting of the WEF every year. The founder of the WEF, Klaus Schwab, even included me in the exclusive Global University Leaders Forum (GULF), which comprised mainly university presidents and only two deans: the dean of the HKS and me, the dean of the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy.
When Larry Summers suddenly had to step down on February 21, 2006, as one of the two presidents of GULF, KlausSchwab had to find a replacement. Instead of turning to another Ivy League university president, Klaus asked me to become the co-leader of GULF. It was a great honour to be recognised by this august group.”
Excerpted from Living the Asian Century: An Undiplomatic Memoir by Kishore Mahbubani, published by PublicAffairs, an imprint of Hachette Book Group. Available at local bookstores.
