I first heard the term “one-eyed leader” nearly 40 years ago. I was a fresh-faced, bright-eyed economist when I heard Dr Albert Winsemius, then Economic Adviser to Singapore, mentioned the term to a room full of civil servants. I still remember him wagging his finger, his famous stare piercing across the table. 

We were then debating a range of economic strategies to bring Singapore to its next S-curve. The first strategy of being an efficient, low-cost location for multinational companies had exceeded our hopes. We were running out of manpower for their operations. But we were hesitant to abandon a successful strategy and shift to an untested way of doing things. Would it work? How could we guarantee it would succeed? Those nervous questions underpinned a discussion that went round in circles. 

Suddenly, Dr Winsemius declared: “In the land of the blind, the one-eyed is king!” After a pregnant pause, he looked around the room, exclaiming: “And you are all one-eyed!”

The thrust of his message was: The world is full of unknowns and uncertainties — like walking blind. If we wait till we have all the answers, we will be left behind. We each hold many questions and some, not all, of the answers. This is why we are one- rather than two -eyed.

The one-eyed leader step ups with confidence and faith in what we are trying to do, humbly learning and finding answers.

The driving question in one-eyed leadership is not: “Can we guarantee success?” but: "What are we trying to do?” and “What will bring us forward to that goal?”

Such leadership means starting with a clear understanding of the why — our values, purpose, what we care about.

This was how Singapore navigated the unknown in the early years.

That day, Dr Winsemius’ words generated confidence and faith. We introduced a high-wage, knowledge-intensive economic development strategy that was a total break from the prevailing approach. 

The rest is history.

A couple of years ago, I shared Dr Winsemius’ quote with a group of leaders. A wry comment by one of them sums up our current challenge: “Today, we are all four-eyed.” He meant it both literally (since almost everyone in the room wore spectacles) and metaphorically.

I have been reflecting on what it means to be a one-eyed and a four-eyed leader, one who defends the status quo, playing it safe, not taking risks.

I realise that unconsciously, insidiously, over the last three decades, I have slipped into a four-eyed approach to life.

This approach seeks to defend the accomplishments that I have painstakingly built up in my one- eyed journey, and to protect the next generation from the pain and insecurity I experienced. In my early years, being one-eyed was instinctive as I did not have much to lose.

When I was 16, living in Penang, I learnt that Commonwealth students were entitled to free education in the United Kingdom. I persuaded my parents to let me go there for my A levels. I promised them that I would earn my keep by taking on weekend jobs.

At that time, the early 1970s, such overseas education, especially for girls, was unusual. Furthermore, the furthest I had travelled to up till then was to Singapore. But my parents let me go as they intuitively knew that it would create a whole new world of opportunities for me.

They (and I) had few answers, and many questions – but we stepped out of our comfort zone because the rewards outweighed the risks we were taking.

Fast forward 30 years. My son was studying in the United States when he called to say he had taken on an evening job. My immediate reaction: “Why do you need to do that? I could send you more allowance. Spend your time on your studies, don’t be distracted.”

I had limited the goal to doing well in his studies, rather than living life well. I wanted to protect him from the challenges and stress I had experienced in managing both my studies and holding a job to pay my keep. But thank goodness for the wisdom of my millennial son, who resisted this easy way out.

Six years later, he would put me to a higher test. In graduate school, he called and declared: “Mum, I want to drop out!”

He had prototyped a product that he sensed had good market potential and wanted to commercialise it.

My reaction — will it work, will you be successful? — comprised well-intentioned but fundamentally misguided four-eyed questions.

They originated from a fear that sought control and to have all the answers and they were trapping me (and my son) from exploring possibilities.

Then I asked myself the one-eyed questions of purpose, meaning and love. What will enable my son to find his place in the world? Who is he designed to be? What is my purpose and role as his mother? Only then did I find the freedom to let him  find his own path.

I wonder whether others in my Merdeka generation have also subconsciously settled into a safer, more defensive four-eyed stance to life.  In so being, how might we be preventing the next generation from exploring new uncharted waters that enable them to reach their full potential?

The good news is that we have many one-eyed leaders emerging in the next generation. I work with young entrepreneurs under the Philip Yeo Innovation (PYI) Fellowship.

Mr Yeo is the epitome of a one-eyed leader. In his time in the public service, he created new economic innovations that brought Singapore to where it is today.

I am glad the PYI innovation associates share his zest to make a difference and change the world for the better.

Their causes range from creating an inclusive society for people with disabilities and youths at risk, to applying artificial intelligence to address investment and social issues as well as community engagement in the design of public spaces.

They tell me they find it most helpful and encouraging that Singapore’s one-eyed leaders tell them they are not mad to pursue their ideas, including unconventional ones.

To them, this is a refreshing change from the questions they are asked too often: "Why bother doing this crazy thing? Will it work? Are you sure you will succeed?"

I am inspired by these young leaders, who challenge the jaded and defensive me to return to the adventurous one-eyed way of being.

They are the pioneers of the SG100 generation. May we, as parents and as a society, set them free to pursue their dreams of a better world.

In Singapore’s 54th year, let us shift from the four-eyed house of fear to the one-eyed house of love and courage. Only then can we re-imagine and build this little red dot into our best home and a beacon of light to the world.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Khoo Seok Lin spent 15 years in the Economic Development Board and is now a freelance trainer and facilitator in leadership development. She co-facilitates the Graduate Diploma Programme on Leading and Sustaining Change at the Civil Service College. This piece first appeared in The Birthday Book (2019), a collection of 54 essays on “narratives, undiscovered and underway” in Singapore. TODAY will be publishing other essays from the book.