As you can see, the theme of Singapore Perspective 2024 is “Youth”.

I had suggested to the team that nobody above the age of 35 — including me — should be speaking at this year’s conference.

“Don’t trust anyone over 30,” that is what the young used to say in the 1960s. Growing up in 60s myself, I used to believe that too. But I felt we might be a tad generous in this case and go up to 35.

Alas, the SP2024 team — led by two IPS Fellows, Kalpana Vignesha and Wong Chin Yi — objected. They said they’d keep the speakers generally young-ish, but couldn’t promise all would be below 35. They have done a good job in their choice of speakers — for the online sessions last Monday, in the videos you’d be watching in the course of the day, as well as for the various panels. They avoided the usual suspects, as one of the participants in the Youth & Politics video complained about. But they decided that I should still give the opening.

I will turn 70 this year — easily the oldest speaker today, and I dare say among the oldest in this hall. Not that I am embarrassed by this fact. Indeed, my year, 1954, was a rather good year. If we were wines, a good many in my cohort would figure as fine wines.

Among political leaders, 1954 produced Senior Minister Teo Chee Hean, and former ministers George Yeo, Lim Hng Kiang, and Lim Swee Say.

Among public servants, the former Head of Civil Service Peter Ho, former Permanent Secretary Bilahari Kausikan, and the former Commissioner of Police Paul Khoo Boon Hui.

Four on the bench today are of the 1954 vintage — Senior Judge Chan Seng Onn, and Justices Belinda Ang, Woo Bih Li, and Choo Han Teck.

In journalism, there is Patrick Daniel. And still serving today as Chairman of the Public Service Commission, Lee Tzu Yang.

As I said, not a bad year at all, 1954.

Life expectancy at birth in Singapore when we were born in 1954 was just 61 years old, compared to around 84 now. All the persons I just named – and obviously myself too – have already beaten the odds by 10 years. Not because we are or were especially virtuous or preternaturally healthy. We were born right smack in the middle of the Merdeka Generation and so were able to benefit from the post-independence development of Singapore. Better nutrition, better healthcare services — and above all, better public health and sanitation — has enabled the bulk of my cohort to exceed their life expectancy at birth. Just to illustrate: For the first five years of my life, I remember using an outdoor privy. Nightsoil carriers would clean out the privies every night. I dare say many in the audience here would not have heard of nightsoil carriers let alone what they did. We owe our longevity more than we care to admit to modern sanitation and sewage — to the humble WC.

A few more pertinent observations.

One: The 1954 birth cohort numbered almost 60,000. The 2022 birth cohort was just half of that – 32,000. The total population of Singapore was just 1.2 million in 1954. The resident population is now about four times greater. Yet we are producing less than half the number of babies.

Another factoid: Almost three-quarters of the population in 1954 — 75% — was under the age of 35. It is now less than 40 per cent. Only 1.74 per cent of the population in 1954 was above the age of 65. Only 1.74 look like me. It is now almost 20 per cent. By 2030, one quarter of our citizen population will be 65 and above; and by 2050, one third. From 1.74 per cent to one-third in less than 100 years.

Never before in human history — never before in Singapore’s history certainly— have there been so many older people and so few young.

“Youth” — the subject of this conference — I’ve news for you: You are an endangered species.

But not all is lost. Birth cohorts have been shrinking for decades in Singapore, as elsewhere. We all know the problems and challenges posed by declining birth rates. We have been speaking about this repeatedly and obsessively for years now. But it should be emphasised equally: the quality of each passing cohort has also been improving, rising, by leaps and bounds over the decades.

For example, only half of the 60,000 or so who were born in 1954 went past Primary 6. Now, almost all go beyond PSLE.

An aside: Only half of my cohort entering Primary 1 in 1961 were in the English-stream. About 45 per cent of the kids entering Primary 1 then went to Chinese schools. A sprinkling went to Malay- and Tamil-stream schools. My personal view is the jury is still out as to whether it is an unmitigated good that we only have English-stream schools today. I think my generation was culturally and politically more multi-dimensional than later generations. There was something robust, firm, more resilient, more substantial — more there there — among the products of the vernacular schools. But I digress…

Other more pertinent factoids: Less than 3 per cent of my contemporaries attained tertiary level education — whether it be the University of Singapore then or Nanyang University or the Singapore Polytechnic (there was only one) or overseas universities. Less than 3 in 100 among us got a degree. Today more than half acquire degrees. And those who don’t — and there are many good reasons now not to assume a degree is the best course for everyone — but even those who choose some other path, other than the traditional, are better formally schooled, trained, educated than the overwhelming bulk of my contemporaries. Furthermore, as you will hear in a while, most young people today expect and want to continue learning and deepening their skills throughout their careers.

Yes, never before in history have there been proportionately so few youth. But it must also be emphasised: never before in history have youths been better educated, better equipped, better skilled, and better prepared. I feel confident that distinguished as the 1954 cohort was, the 2024 cohort will produce many more stars. And not only stars — the whole 2024 cohort — aided perhaps by AI, will be superior in degree as well as kind to the 1954 cohort. That is as it should be.

But I would like to briefly present for your consideration today a few consequences of a shrinking youth population. I present these considerations in no particular order. They are random:

To begin with, the political consequences: Many years ago, Mr Lee Kuan Yew wondered aloud if married couples with dependent children should be given an extra vote to balance out a growing senior constituency. That was prescient. Roughly a third of the electorate today — meaning Singapore citizens of a voting age — are above 60 years old; only a quarter are between 21 and 35. This trend is bound to accelerate: The electorate will become greyer — or more silver, to put it euphemistically — with each passing decade, and less young.

The priorities in our politics will shift accordingly. They already have. Healthcare expenditure will soon exceed Defence. For the 1954 generation, Education was the largest item of fiscal expenditure for a good part of our teenage years.

How do you keep the tone of society vibrant even as we provide for our seniors and enable them to age actively?

How do you continue to give free rein to innovation and experiment — not just in technology but also socially and culturally — even as society as a whole matures and ages?

None of this is impossible. There are many societies — east and west, north and south — which have managed to remain vibrant, innovative, supple, even as they have aged. Indeed, ageing itself is being reinvented. We all know many seniors among us who are less mentally and spiritually sclerotic compared to many young people. Indeed, many middle-aged people develop intellectual sclerosis long before they develop physical sclerosis. It is possible for individuals, no matter how old, as well as society as a whole not to age in spirit even as they age physically.

Still, I believe we nevertheless must consciously and deliberately give more scope, more space, to youth if we are to remain a vibrant and innovative society. Consciously and deliberately incline our politics to the future, not the past; the young, not just the middle-aged and seniors. Constantly guard against the tendency of ageing societies to conserve, buffer, protect, draw in their horns and avoid risks.

We saw how this tension played itself out between the generations in the case of Brexit in the United Kingdom. While the young, the urban, the better educated wished to remain open in Europe; the older, rural, the less well-educated preferred the security of Little England. We see the same tension playing itself out in the current US presidential race: Even among Republican voters, the young, the urban, the better-educated favour Nikki Haley over Donald Trump by wide margins. Adult Gen Zs (that is, below 25) are the least inclined to support Mr Trump.

But it is time for me to step off the stage and for you to hear from the young — as many under the age of 35 as possible. My colleagues, Chin Yi and Chew Han Ei will be presenting next the findings of an IPS poll on the young: Their concerns about work and mental health, their attitudes to relationships, marriage, and children. I found some of the findings, I confess, baffling — in particular, those on mental health and family. My young colleagues admonished that I must learn a new language if I am to understand them.

The poll findings will be followed by three panels — on Youth & Work, Youth & Family, and Youth & Politics. Last Monday the online component of SP covered among other subjects Youth & Well-being. A summary of what took place online is available on our website.

The conference will end with the customary ministerial dialogue — this year, with the youngest member of the Cabinet, Mr Desmond Lee[1].

To the older among us, I can do no better than offer the advice T.H. Huxley gave 150 years ago: “Sit down before fact like a little child, and be prepared to give up every preconceived notion, follow humbly wherever and to whatever abyss Nature (or the young in this case) leads, or you shall learn nothing.”

I hope we will all learn a thing or two today.

Thank you very much.