Kevin Low

Everyone needs a house; and places to do different things. And real estate is about really creating and providing spaces for people, for activities in an urban setting mostly. The thing is, for most part, there is a lot of matching activities going on. Because people don’t tear down houses when they move, they just sell it to someone else.

It is one of those things that are kind of completely unique (no two locations or houses are the same) so as long as people have strong emotional attachment to specific locations or sense of place, it is difficult for it to be commoditised. Hence the transaction costs involved are really high; and they are often tied to the underlying prices of the assets when they change hands

Another phenomena is that the prices of these assets will change based on the ability-to-pay of the ones buying them. This means that as the overall ability to pay of the economy rises, the prices rise. The value increases without the actual activity of building, searching, selling, incurring that much more costs. How can a society capture and share this value better without all becoming property agents? Henry George’s ideas and perception of land as a property is worth revisiting.

What is strength? More often than not, in the world of showiness and social media curation, strength shines forth in being more human, revealing your imperfections and failings, more than appearing strong. After all, what does appearing strong really mean?

Through my coaching I discover that we all tend to underestimate what we are physically capable of; which is why we are often so awed by athletes hitting benchmarks, breaking records, and just being ‘super human’. We celebrate all of these, and we then not to see or focus so much on the crazy amount of hard work, focus on techniques, and iteration between monitoring performance, brainstorming how to approach improvement, and then actually achieving those improvements.

But we also overestimate our mental strength; and we often think we are capable of handling stress that we aren’t able to. We overpromise our bosses on the work we can accomplish (especially in terms of deadlines) and fail to juggle everything eventually. We do not expect that the mental capacity it takes to juggle many things competes with the ability to actually execute and do them well.

Rebalancing this would be important.

The name of your high school matters. It matters even when you are in your 60s and speaking in parliament. It may seem silly that one can be defined that way but this is classic Singaporean. It’s because we celebrate a very narrow set of talents. That was critical at the nation-founding, nation-building phase where we needed to identify strong problem-solvers, and risk-takers who could be industry pioneers.

But it is also because of that, our ‘elite schools’ can serve as important socio-economic levellers by accepting students from a variety of backgrounds and wider variety of talents – not just academic ones. Demolishing the alumni priority system entirely helps; though what we are doing is a nice first step. Of course it’s nice to have our kid go to the same school as ourselves and share in that school pride. But it is non-essential and you should be giving back to the schools because of what it has given you, not what it is about to give your sons and daughters.

Education is an important opportunity for social mobility. Let us not destroy it. Let us not allow capital and private resources to further entrench its power over labour.

The conversations about good schools and elitism will never end for a society where academic credentials truly influence a lot of our subsequent lives. For me, entering Chinese High after attending an ‘ordinary’ neighbourhood elementary school made a huge difference. And I honestly wasn’t a star student even in elementary school. All I could say is I had teachers who believed in me and parents who did not pressure me to go one way or another. I made it to Chinese High potentially through sheer dumb luck.

But getting into the school showed me a different aspect of reality, where hard work matters a lot more; and I had friends from entirely different backgrounds who thought differently from I did. I begin also to see the difference in the education background of their parents and mine. I truly felt that positive impact of competition at that point – I won’t say I thrived in it, nor did it crush me with too much pressure. I just responded in a rather balanced way and made it through the system somewhat in the middle.

Yet even as a middle student in that school, I was easily already ahead of many others. And that is what every parent today in Singapore is trying to push their kids towards. They rather their kid be last in a good school sometimes, just perhaps for the opportunity to mix around with other ‘good kids’ and also be given the wider opportunities.

Until the ‘neighbourhood’ schools are given more resources than the ‘top’ schools, it’s going to be a tough sell to try and tell parents every school is a good school. Because the parents will think the school will be a good school for some kid out there, just not mine.

Millennials’ relationship with work is broken. We want work-life balance. And yet we want to turn our hobbies into income-generators, side-hustles, effectively desiring to turn our passion into work.

So are we turning the life side of the ‘work-life’ see-saw into ‘work’ too? So when we say ‘work-life’ balance, it is not so much the dichotomy of work and life but really, the kind of work that gives us great amount of autonomy without necessary the pressure of livelihood hinging on it, and the kind of work which supports us and fulfils our dreams financially but may not offer so much autonomy and control.

On one hand, we are starved of work and even willing to pay for internships. On the other hand, we are so overworked because we turn our hobbies into work too. The reality, I think, is something to do with our search for our sense of identity. Because we have such freedom and work was quite a significant obsession for the boomers (and by and large their insecurities around livelihoods and material-insufficiency), we dig deep into it for our sense of identity. If only we can take a step back and scrutinise the void in our hearts we are trying to fill, maybe, we would just be searching in the right places.

Ultracrepidarianism refers to the habit of giving advice on matters one knows nothing about. It came from a Latin expression “Sutor, ne ultra crepidam” (Shoemaker, not beyond the shoe). At some point, we elevate people who have progressed well within their respective fields to such a status that they are willing and even confident about their views on matters that they clearly should not be attributed any authority in.

Of course one of the best example is the modern day politician who is asked by the media on a variety of views. And the problem is that sometimes the public gives them enough credit that they actually believe in them. But more broadly, we are suffering from this phenomena ourselves as we become increasingly educated and sees the internet or whatever we find on it as a trusted source as long as they agree with us.

Determining the boundaries of our competence and the authority limits of our own views is so important. Which is why perhaps in schools, even as we want our kids to be confident in their thoughts and views, they ought to also learn to caveat them for the sake of their audience, if not themselves.

When there’s a score we want to see it go up; we want to optimise it, and so we identify the rules to manipulate the numbers rather than what the numbers are supposed to mean. It doesn’t end in schools, nations can also be obsessed with it. It is true that numbers, labels once put together with names can shame or elevate and are used to change cultures.

The Brits are pretty good at this. And the world learns from that, which is where voluntary disclosures become part of the decarbonisation game and so it goes on. It can be used for good but most of the time, it reaches some kind of straining point and gets abused. Greenwashing is an example of that sort of thing.

So what can education do to remind our generations and the future about upholding the spirit of things rather than just their form. What can education do to get students to think through the meaning of grades and what they have made them to mean before dishing out grades like everyone know what it is for? How can we make education better, to be about learning the content than learning the exam techniques?

During the height of the COVID-19 crisis in Singapore, I started with mentoring and coaching younger adults in university to think about their future and to adopt more flexible mindsets as they approach entering a career. Prior to this, I’ve had been informally coaching many peers and juniors on their tertiary education choices, career choices, and strategies to get themselves into various different professional service industries.

My work experiences in the private and public sectors, as well as the education industry allow me to give a big picture of the way an individual should approach these decisions in order to fulfill their life purpose. And for those who have yet to determine what their life purpose is, I have been able to help provide the questions to point them closer to an answer.

This book realistically is worth at least 1 coaching session where I typically charge S$150 for. By sharing these materials for free, I hope to help you diagnose better the stage you are at, and hone in on specific issues, get to your results quicker when you get to me for coaching.