OB Markers: My Straits Times Story

by Cheong Yip Seng

Cheong Yip Seng's memoir is much more than just a "deep-background-off-the-record" of Lee Kuan Yew's years as Singapore's no. 1 newsmaker. It is a chronological and sensitive explanation of how the Republic's newspaper of record was shaped by Mr Lee - and, more important, why he took it upon himself to do so. This memoir could not come at a more appropriate time, when Singapore's third generation leaders find themselves in headwinds of public opinion the first Prime Minister dealt with with a firm hand. Whether times have changed and Singapore's current leadership can no longer deal with The Straits Times the way Mr Lee dealt with Cheong Yip Seng and his predecessors is a question this book throws up. The answer is a subject worthy of debate among the myriad self-appointed and untrained citizen journalists, who really should read this book for their own much-needed enlightenment.

It is also for anyone interested in the future of Singapore, for its accounts of what constituted "out of bounds" up until 2006 show how such areas could possibly be navigated now. As Cheong's memoir of The Straits Times for more than four decades reveals, the rationale for the Singapore media model may be hard to accept for many liberals. But this model has been sufficiently successful to keep Singapore's newspaper of record one of the most successful in the world.

Genres: Nonfiction, Journalism, Politics

452 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2012

Reviews

[Whitaker · Rating 4 out of 5]

The reviews here have mostly captured the book accurately. He does get tediously repetitive at times, but it's chock full of juicy little snippets about the internal give and take, and push and pull between the Singapore press and the government. Rumour has it that the powers-that-be were not too thrilled about the book, that it crossed the unspoken OB markers in pulling back the curtain to reveal magician's secrets. For that reason alone, this is a must-read for all Singaporeans about how power actually functions here. Good luck getting hold of it though. Rumour also it that there will now be only one print run and no more.

The attitude of the Singapore government to the press's role as a fourth estate, summarised in American-teenspeak, is simply, "So who died and voted you boss?" This is a point that is not without some validity when we bear in mind the role of Fox news in propagandising blatant untruths, and the appetite of the hard right for such lies. A fourth estate that simply whores around its owner's viewpoint can hardly be called a free press. And there are not many owners of a press that would tolerate it telling unpleasant truths about them or their political positions. This is a hard constraint that is, practically speaking, unavoidable.

The standard response to this is that the public should be allowed access to a multitude of viewpoints. In this paradigm, that one press reflects the views of its owners should not matter as another press would offer a different perspective. Interestingly, however, the rise of the internet has shown that when provided a smorgasboard of information and varying opinions, people gravitate away from (if not actively eschew) facts and opinions that contradict what they already believe or want to believe. This should give honest thinkers some pause as to whether the notion that having multiple media outlets expressing multiple views allows readers to rationally choose the strongest one is a notion that is borne out in reality.

Even assuming some appetite for hearing different views, there is also the hard constraint of time. In between looking after the kids, going to work, doing the household chores, how many people actually have time to pore over multiple news sources? And then think about what is said. Many barely make do with one.

A further hard constraint is money. The need to keep an eye on the profit line puts a real limit on true impartial journalistic investigation. Developing in-house journalistic expertise is expensive. The best ones will simply leave for the best paying media outlets. The time spent investigating leads that might bomb adds to the cost: one still has to fill pages each day with content people will pay to read.

In a market economy which demands keeping costs as low as possible and margins as high as possible, competition for eyeballs will mean almost inevitably that there will be a race to whatever it is that gets the most reader dollars. In a market economy, the press the people get is the press the people want to pay money for, and the unfortunate and unpalatable truth is that most people WANT circuses. Why pay $1 of your hard earned meagre paycheck to read boring and hard details of the financial statements of the country or viewpoints that make you angry and uncomfortable? Why indeed, when the same $1 can be spent on reading the fun gossip of Kim Kardashian's and Kanye West's baby. The cost of running a press and keeping it solvent is also a hard constraint: reporters need to be paid, rent on offices needs to be paid, paper and ink cost money.

Put all these hard constraints together, and the wonder is that there is any good reporting at all.

[Caleb Loh · Rating 3 out of 5]

ST used to be an outfit largely run by British expats, focused on news throughout Malaya rather than in Singapore, and had an anti-PAP bent in the 1950s. The book covers the transition to a home-grown leadership, bolstered by talent both the mandarinate in the civil service and journalists leaving Malaysia, China, Sri Lanka, and other countries. It covers almost every incident involving ST/SG media industry in the last few decades - the clash with NKF during the NKF scandal; the anti-establishment Catherine Lim op-ed; the closure of Nanyang Siang Pau and the Singapore Herald; the attempt by the SPH to enter the television industry; the increased focus on regional affairs; and more.

The book is somewhat repetitive. Anecdotes about how LKY singled out ST for blame due to reporting on bus fare increases before the 1981 Anson by-elections, about the emergence of the New Straits Times in Malaysia, about the need to read Malay-language papers like Utusan Melayu to understand the Malaysian ground, and more were repeated a number of times.

[liminalcurrents · Rating 3 out of 5]

Cheong Yip Seng provides an insightful read into the inner workings of Singapore’s most read newspaper and likely the major source of news for Singaporeans. This book has many juicy pieces of information about the government’s responses(particularly LKY’s) to certain pieces of information and the relationship between the government. However, it does get repetitive at many points. I mean this literally, whole sentences and I suspect even paragraphs are copy-pasted. I doubt this was done for emphasis. The prose is simple to understand however it is refreshing to understand the rationale behind many of the inner workings of the state. I was not as interested in the life of the author or the straits times as an institution but wanted to use it to understand media operations in Singapore. Below I will summarise some of the main points brought up in the book and my opinion on them.

1) The press in Singapore is not seen as the fourth estate. In most western countries, the press is an important check and balance on the government. There generally exists an adversarial relationship between the press and the government. However, LKY argued that since the press is not elected, it does not have the right to question the government or set the national agenda. The press is instead subject to corporate interests and would chase scandal instead of “real news”. Thus he was steadfast in claiming that the media cannot have a free reign. My view on this is that firstly the media while not elected, is still subject to the population’s demands as their profits are determined by how many subscribers they have. Additionally, the benefit that the media and civil society have are that they can bring up minority perspectives(that governments elected by the majority) cannot bring up - such as issues affecting minority races and sexual minorities. I have to say the very close relationship between the media and the government did make me a bit uncomfortable given that the government would directly interfere when they thought a columnist had an “agenda” and was attempting to be a western liberal journalist.

2) The survival motif. LKY’s experience with the communists and JO seem to have influenced is very hardline stance towards the media and limiting its influence. LKY also wanted to pass this knowledge to younger generations whom he felt did not understand Singapore’s vulnerability. Thus he thought Singapore always needed a strong and decisive (PAP) government. Personally I think this survival motif has become a limitation now as it can sometimes be used to prevent a diversity of views. Immediately after independence, the need for such decisiveness could be argued for given the need to quickly get on track and be the first in the region - ie. first airport, first deep sea port, attract quick MNC investment. However at this stage of development where solutions are not as clear cut, with competing stakeholder demands and also the impact of current policies likely only being felt many years onwards(ie policies on CPF), it is important to have a diversity of views to determine the best solution.

3)Lastly the idea that the Straits Times was often seen as representative of the government’s opinion. The straits times had to be very careful in reporting about Malaysia and Indonesia and was not allowed to report anything that harmed bilateral relations. For example it could not report on Suharto and his family’s corruption unless other news outlets reported it first(these were many of the OB markers). The close relationship between the government and straits times made it seem to other countries(and to many Singaporeans too probably) that the Straits Times was just a government mouthpiece. Cheong strongly disputes this claim and attempts to show ST’s editorial integrity to a commendable extent

In conclusion, Cheong makes a passionate claim for the relevance of the Straits Times and how it has constantly adapted to changing OB markers in Singapore - straddling both the government’s demands and that from the population. The conclusions Cheong makes from the facts presented are very different from those I came to. A question to end this reading off would be wonder if the Straits Times has been successful in straddling that line since this book was written in 2011, especially given the rise of other credible competitors.

[Catherine · Rating 3 out of 5]

Honestly I did not think I would enjoy this book but I found it surprisingly good. It confirmed what many people suspected about press freedom in Singapore. I guess it's a fine line to draw between supporting the government during the country's difficult teenage years and maintaining an objective journalistic stand.

[Jill · Rating 4 out of 5]

OB Markers is a brilliant behind the scenes look at the Straits Times, the most prominent and most-read paper in Singapore, through the eyes of Cheong Yip Seng, who joined ST in 1963 and served as editor-in-chief for 19 years (1987-2006). It details not only how the paper evolved as a business, but more importantly, how ST negotiated the “difficult terrain, where media and politics intersect, quite often turbulently, closely watched by a tough-as-nails political leadership whose survival instincts were honed in fierce combat with the radical left, and those whose politics were race-based.” As a rookie reporter during Singapore’s turbulent years after independence, and as editor-in-chief under three prime ministers, Cheong had a front row seat to many seminal moments and key developments in the country, from covering the MacDonald House bombing on 10 March 1965, to race riots in 1964 and 1969.

The role
In the West, the press serves as the fourth estate and as a check and balance on the government. Singapore has held firm to the view that the “interests of the press must be subordinate to the overriding interests of the country”; after all, unlike the government, the press does not subject itself to elections and cannot claim to speak on behalf of citizens. Singapore also believes that the press plays a critical role in nation building. This meant, according to LKY, “present[ing] Singapore’s problems simply and clearly and then explain[ing] how, if [the people] support certain programmes and policies, these programmes can be solved….the mass media [should also] reinforce, not undermine, the cultural values and social attitudes being inculcated in our schools and universities.”

In OB Markers, Cheong offers many anecdotes detailing how ST sought to strike a balance between supporting the national agenda and reflecting ground sentiments, covering the issues deemed important by government but also those that were of reader interest (but seen as peripheral matters by the government). Sometimes, it would get the balance wrong. When PSA had to retrench workers in 2000, PM Lee Hsien Loong felt that instead of putting a photo of retrenched PSA workers on the front page, ST could have highlighted on the front page why PSA had to retrench workers and what Singapore could do to tackle the recession. The photo of workers could be on a page inside. The government was concerned that how major crises were covered by the media could affect the outcome.

The relationship
Cheong describes how ST’s relationship with the government evolved, not only as the leadership changed hands from LKY to Goh Chok Tong to Lee Hsien Loong, but also as Singapore society itself changed. Initially, LKY dealt with the press in a combative fashion, with what he called “knuckledusters”. When he was unhappy with ST coverage, he was not averse to changing the newsroom leadership. Cheong describes the many occasions when media coverage would anger LKY and earn it a sharp rebuke – when ST’s coverage of the Malaysian anger in response to Chaim Herzog’s visit to Singapore in November 1986 was overly muted (ST drew its reporting from the more restrained Malaysian English press and not the Malaysian vernacular press); ST’s coverage of the 1981 Anson by-election that JB Jeyaretnam won, which LKY saw as being partial to the opposition; even New Nation’s publication of a photo of a large happy family in the 1970s annoyed LKY, who felt it undermined the government’s Stop At Two campaign. Indeed, in the aftermath of the Anson by-election, there was word that the government was planning to move a team of government officials into Times House. Eventually, then-ST editor Peter Lim and then-Straits Times Group CEO Lyn Holloway proposed to focus more resources to strengthen ST’s coverage and deliver a more politically sensitive news service. The government, in exchange, did not move in senior civil servants to SPH but instead sent SR Nathan as executive chairman of the group, to serve as a “monitor to watch whether the newsroom was beyond control”.

The main beef LKY had with ST was its lack of political sensitivity – that its coverage did not reflect an understanding of what was in Singapore’s national interest. Failure to demonstrate political sensitivity could have dire consequences in the early days – when a reporter, Peter Ong, saw a classified ad in ST in 1973 inviting Malaysians to enlist with the SAF in exchange for eventual citizenship, he wrote a piece on it. He was punished for putting out news that could potentially anger the Malaysians by being sent to (re)do NS, even though he had done nearly 4 years of NS in the Vigilante Corps earlier.

And there were many issues that required sensitivity – Singapore’s bilateral relationship with its larger, testy, neighbours, communism, the role of the Malay community in Singapore vis-à-vis their Malaysian counterparts, the role of the Chinese community in what was becoming a largely English speaking Singapore, anything that related to the SAF, to name a few.

There were hot button cultural issues too. LKY was against reporting that might encourage lax morals in the population – pieces (whether fictional or non-fictional) featuring people having affairs, unwanted pregnancies, homosexuality, for instance. ST had to negotiate when acceptable journalistic practice – reflecting what society was starting to discuss and do – became “anti-government Western-style journalism”.

The business
Cheong discusses how the business of the ST grew and evolved in the 4 decades he spent with the paper. When he joined ST in 1963, no more than 20 reporters covered local news. There was no formal training. No programmes in media and journalism offered by the universities. Stories were typed out in triplicate – one for the news editor, one for the reporter and one for the files. The edited copy was telexed to KL, where the editors there would decide how to use the stories and where to place them. When he took over the ST newsroom in 1987 (which made him editorially responsible for BT, New Nation and Berita Harian, and lifestyle magazines like Her World, as well), Cheong started to build up the newsroom’s talent pool. He sought to do so on a scale and degree that ST had never experienced before, in order to build a paper that the political leaders would deem a quality paper with intelligent coverage. With SR Nathan as executive chairman, ST started recruiting mid-career journalists from the Administrative Service – people like Patrick Daniel, Tan Tarn How (who eventually went into the arts), Han Fook Kwang (who served as Director, Land Transport under Sim Kee Boon) – until LHL raised AS salaries to stop the poaching spree by the private sector. But there were other civil service hires, like Chua Lee Hoong (ISD) and her sister Chua Mui Hoong (bonded to the education service). ST also started awarding scholarships to groom talent in-house.

As the media landscape evolved, SPH would be involved in a number of experiments with different business models, which mostly failed. In an attempt to create more competition in the media landscape, SPH was issued a TV license while MediaCorp was given a newspaper permit; in 2000, SPH launched a free sheet, Streats to compete with MediaCorp’s Today (the concept came from Swedish media executive Pelle Tornberg who launched a successful freesheet in Stockholm in 1995); SPH started a tabloid morning paper aimed at the young named Project Eyeball; in 2000, SPH listed its internet arm, AsiaOne, on the stock exchange. SPH gave up its TV ambitions and shuttered Channel i while Channel U was given to MediaCorp to run, with a 20 percent stake sold to SPH. In exchange, MediaCorp sold a 40 percent stake in Today to SPH and SPH ceased publication of Streats. Project Eyeball was shuttered. AsiaOne had to delist.

Cheong discusses how he saw ST’s coverage on Asia as its competitive advantage and significantly expanded ST’s network of overseas bureaus. When Cheong became editor-in-chief, ST already had bureaus in places like London, Bangkok, and Manila. Cheong then established bureaus in KL (Ismail Kassim, then Brendan Pereira, along with Kalimullah Hassan, Jocelyn Tan and Carolyn Hong), Jakarta (Yang Razali Kassim, Susan Sim, Derwin Pereira, Dewi Asmarani), Beijing (Tan Tarn How), New Delhi (Ravi Velloor, formerly from Asiaweek).

OB Markers is also peppered with little nuggets and stories that don’t serve the main arcs of role, relationship and the business, but like the lifestyle pages, serve to entertain and feed reader interest (i.e. kaypohness). Like how Margaret Chan was one of five people made a job offer from ST, along with Cheong Yip Seng, but turned it down because she felt the pay was too low. (She was the only graduate amongst the five, with a degree from the UK.) She went into banking, where she met and married Lien Ying Chow. It was also fascinating to learn how many of the Singaporean elite had served in the newsroom. Many joined the arts sector like Edmund Wee, a civil servant turned journalist who later left to set up a design agency and later Epigram Books, Lim Kay Tong, Michael Chiang, Margaret Chan (not the one who went into banking), Jacintha Abisheganaden and Koh Boon Pin. Many, many more joined politics: Abdullah Tarmugi, a civil servant at MND who joined the newsroom for 4 years before joining politics; Raymond Lim who taught law at NUS then joined ST before leaving to join the financial sector and eventually politics; Zainual Abidin Rasheed, Hawazi Daipi, Mohamad Maidin, Yatiman Yusof (all from BH); Seng Han Thong (ZB), Irene Ng and the earlier generation of politicians such as S Rajaratnam and Othman Wok (Utusan Melayu). And it was news to me that before Violet Oon became a restauranteur, she was a food writer with New Nation.

And the stories of LKY that were not directly related to his dealings with the press – like those recounting his masterful networking skills and how he made friends with key players, whether in politics, business or the media. Not just those in power, but also those who could help educate and inform him, or who might one day enter office. These individuals included Richard Nixon and Henry Kissinger, the latter who became a lifelong friend. Cheong also recounts LKY’s efforts, notwithstanding his demanding schedule, to educate others – including members of the media – on the various issues that could impact Singapore’s interests. For instance, he would send editors pieces from foreign media on bilateral relations on Malaysia or on domestic developments across the Causeway, so that they could better understand the region Singapore inhabited.

At 439 pages, OB Markers took me a while to get through. But it was well worth the effort. It gave me a richer understanding of a newspaper that I grew up reading – first the comics, then the lifestyle pages (I remember being slightly skeptical when the lifestyle section was rebranded as Life! with an exclamation mark), then the Home and Forum sections, before moving on to the Asia and World pages and finally the Commentary and Business sections. And reading OB Markers also gave me more insight, perhaps, as to why I’ve largely stopped reading ST in recent years. I used to think I stopped reading ST because there were so many other options available: CNA and Today for local news, the Guardian, FT, NYT (and all sorts of other websites) for international news. And I felt that the quality of the writing had dropped in recent years – whether there was indeed a drop in quality or whether it was the case that I was now a more discerning reader than my teenage self, I wasn’t quite sure. But reading about what ST used to be under Cheong’s leadership, I wonder if, perhaps, the quality of ST has indeed dropped, reflecting a paper that has lost its way and no longer knows what it stands for and represents. I used to read ST from cover to cover every day (it took AGES on the weekend, when the page count increased dramatically). Today, I give ST’s headlines a cursory skim on my iPad – most of the headlines aren’t compelling (in fact, if they aren’t ‘meh’ then they’re painfully cheesy or trite) – and when I do go on to read the article, I often find the CNA or Today version more tightly written and more informative. Does this reflect the lack of talent and resources that SPH invested in the ST newsroom after Cheong’s tenure (given its forays into property, nursing homes, tuition centres and what have you)? Can ST still claim its investment and coverage on Asia sets it apart from other rivals? Does its current editorial team have the same level of clarity on its role and purpose that Cheong and his editors had?

OB Markers is a compelling and fascinating read. Yet, reading what it was to work for ST, to work on ST back then, and comparing it to what the paper is today, left me somewhat depressed at the end.

[Bombom · Rating 4 out of 5]

My Takeaways
1. The unique role of media in Singapore
Contrary to western countries, Cheong stresses that Singapore's media is not the fourth estate and is not allowed to exercise its power by deciding its own agenda. He explains LKY's rationale that the media did not have to earn votes like politicians, hence, it has limited privilege in the shaping of national policy. As such, the role of the press in Singapore is to educate and help people understand the rationale behind national policies and support it, rather than critique the government as journalists often do in Western democratic countries.

Cheong understands this logic, in this memoir, he recounts his countless clashes with LKY and PAP as he recognises the need for editorial integrity, repeatedly emphasizing The Straits Times' commitment to a newspaper that is sensitive to people's desire for alternative views. He then raises the question of what is press freedom? Can one definition of press freedom, that is the Western one, be so liberally slapped onto Singapore with a vastly different environment and background? Afterall, a country's model of media is shaped by its history, grography, and the prevailing social and political condition. Are Singaporeans who yearn for a more critical and free press actually ready and willing to take accountability for a press that is totally free?

I empathise with both sides, a newspaper who only touts government policies will only stiffen debate and be reduced to a government mouthpiece, it will only run into a dead end as readers abandon them for more lively content online. On the other hand, articles that critique government policies or diverge from the national agenda set by the government could encourage resistance and prevent unpopular policies from taking place efficiently, hence hindering Singapore's development.

2. The delicate balance- being supportive, but also critical?
As en editor of ST, Cheong provides much insight into the careful path journalists have to tread when it comes to publishing content that veer into the territory of OB markers- such as politics, race, religion, or taboo issues such as 'unconventional' lifestyles (lbgtq community etc.). This has proved to be even more difficult as readers demand for more alternative views and post-65 journalists who are more liberal often try to test the OB markers. Oftentimes articles that pass his editorial judgement may be flagged by politicians as offensive or undermining national policies, afterall, what is in Singapore's 'best interest' remains subjective and opinions differ.

Cheong's insights have made me more sympathetic to journalists as they are often writing with a towering government breathing down their necks (though not so much today) and negotiating the gray area surrounding ob-markers while also needing to satisfy the demands of a more educated and discerning population. He gives a face and voice to struggles of the newsroom and humanises people working in the press as more than mere government mouthpieces without a mind of their own. It is sad that many Singaporeans today sees the press as one that is unreliable and subservient to the government without truly understanding the unique working relationship between the press and government.

In simple terms, the singaporean press model was born out of LKY's acute sense of vulnerability and understanding of Singapore's fragility having endured such tumultuous times. This sentiment is shared by Cheong who watched Singapore transformation from a third world country to a first world one. As LKY was aware of the media's dangerous 'power of suggestion' and people's 'imitative' nature, Cheong revealed that he often had off-the-record meetings with editors to discuss his concerns and share his worldview so that editors could understand the thinking behind his politics and better their coverage. This was an interesting revelation as I always saw the relationship between the press and government as one that is top-down and authoritarian.

3. Maintaining quality journalistic practices amidst declining circulation and shifting demands?
In the last few chapters, Cheong contemplates the state of journalism today and the dangers of succumbing to downmarket journalism to boost falling circulation. He emphasises the importance of a quality newspaper such as ST to help the man in the street cope with rapid changes in the global economy and the potential danger of less well-informed populace on society at large. As more people flock to free content online and dismiss established newspapers such as the ST for being too pro-government, Cheong sticks by his belief that they are 'pro-Singapore' rather that 'pro-government'. He prides himself on ST's insightful and quality coverage of domestic and world events by the team of correspondents he built up over the course of his career, and believes that their best bet at survival in a world dominated by social media and soundbite journalism is to continue producing quality pieces that make sense of the world from a local viewpoint.

Final thoughts:
In a world vastly different from the Singapore of the 1960s, I find his fears of a younger generation who do not share the older generation's sense of Singapore's fragility quite valid. Many, including myself who did not experience the turbulent times often have a dismissive attitude towards the elders' words of precaution. We find their precautionary tales of riots and wars in peaceful Singapore irrelevant in such a modern Singapore and many also view PAP and the press as being in kahoots, trying to indoctrinate us into their outdated views of thinking while suppressing opposition voices.

After reading OB markers, I must admit I am swayed and am much more empathetic towards the press and government. Politics and media in Singapore are complex issues and the lines are not always so clearly drawn. Cheong's brushes with so many people from all walks of life and reservoir of experience working in the press made the OB Markers a remarkably insightful and informative read as a young Singaporean contemplating the place of journalism in this social media age. The thorough recounts, though dry at times, were fun to read as I learnt about events I never knew of and searched them up online.

Today, it is all too easy for a cynical Singaporean to jump on the bandwagon and completely boycott Singapore media on the basis that it is too 'pro government' and switch to a different channel given the myriad of choices we have. I believe that is partly because most young Singaporeans are sheltered enough to not have to read hard news regularly, and a collective fatigue over PAP's political dominance. But I hope more young Singaporeans realise the importance of journalism and give more credit to our local journalists who work tirelessly behind the scenes to provide us with accurate and insightful news from all over the world. Like Cheong, I believe that quality journalism is timeless and the evolving political climate will only give rise to greater leeway around the OB markers, hence, I remain hopeful about the state of journalism in Singapore today.

[Ti Bryan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Factually interesting bits about media vs government, but irritating repetitive bits too.

[Hay · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fascinating take from the inside on The Straits Times, on how the mechanics of how the government controls the media in this country from a retired Straits Times editor-in-chief.

He explains his philosophy quite clearly - by adhering close to what LKY said at IPI in Helsinki 1971: "we want the mass media to reinforce, not to undermine, the cultural values and social attitudes being inculcated in our schools and universities... Freedom of the press, freedom of the news media, must be subordinated to the overriding needs of the integrity of Singapore, and to the primacy of purpose of an elected government." In the book, for example, he refers to OB markers quite frequently, which are topics the paper consciously avoids coverage of. He is also careful to add, however, that to retain the trust of the public in the newspaper, the ST must also include different voices.

And yet his thinking seems rather muddled at times. Whilst he often rages against Watergate-style investigative journalism in the book, yet in the chapter "The Power to Do Good" he recounts an episode where the Straits Times stood firm on their report which exposed extravagant spending at the highest levels at National Kidney Foundation (a charity strongly supported by PAP Health and Finance ministers) with pride - which in my opinion is a shining example of Watergate-style investigative journalism exposing problems in the corridors of power! (Annoying, he also seems to conflate US/UK with the "West" many times - because media models in various Western countries are actually quite different but Mr Cheong, surprisingly, doesn't seem to understand this).

What does make this book interesting is the many anecdotes in which he recounts episodes where LKY or GCT have come down hard on the ST (indeed, both go down to the individual article and author level!). What's also interesting is how Mr Cheong paints himself as upholding media principles as he tries to protect it from interference from outside (although remember, he also believes that the Straits Times should slant their reports to support government policies as much as possible).

It's also fascinating to see that many of the people I read/follow today were hired by him, and used to work at the ST but chose not to stay - Bertha Henson, Cherian George, Tan Tarn How, KF Seetoh, amongst others. SPH role in grooming and weeding out candidates for higher political office is quite clear. It's clear that improving the quality of writing in the paper was very important for Mr Cheong - and he spent much time trying to recruit and retain talent.

Today's ST is a bit of a disappointment in my opinion. The editor-in-chief is Warren Fernandez (an almost PAP candidate in the 2006 elections if not pulled back by Mr Cheong). The next in line is Sumiko Tan... If one opens the paper to the Opinion page today, none of the columns are written by internal staff - it seems almost as is no one at the ST who can even write columns. I'm really not sure what Mr Cheong would say if someone asked him about state of the newsroom today.

Finally - it's also a bit ironic, that even in retirement, the retired The Straits Times editor still has to self-censor (there are both notable large omissions such as Operation Spectrum, down to small omissions of detail such as LCY's treatment of Ken Kwek at the Istana).

[Ryan · Rating 3 out of 5]

Late to the party after reading this book about 9 years after it was first published.

Interesting stories about media-government relations in Singapore especially in 70s/80s.

Some parts were painful to read because it was so repetitive. The author also provided a little too much information about ex-colleagues and bosses which were neither interesting nor was it information that value-added to his stories. The book could have been about 200+ pages instead of 400 pages if the repetitive anecdotes were removed. It would also have been a better, more interesting read.

[Matthew Neo · Rating 3 out of 5]

As other reviews mentioned - repetitive . Skimmed thru after first few chapters. The little nuggets of policy wisdom, tussle between media and state, and the involvement of state in media did not make the book itself more interesting. At some points it seemed like a rant (granted acceptable in what seems like half an autobiography), but thought I could expect deeper insight from an enlightened mind. May give this a read again in then future.

[DW3 · Rating 2 out of 5]

Provided insights into how media policies in Singapore developed, and gave me quite a bit of food for thought.

[Hon Kar Yee · Rating 5 out of 5]

Great insight in the Singapore media landscape (mainly print newspaper) up till the 2010s & the relations between newsroom & government.

[Ryan Lee · Rating 5 out of 5]

Very good read

[Tish · Rating 4 out of 5]

Chapter 2, My Rookie Years, was a valuable account of the labour movement, back when unions could still go on strike in the 1960s.

Chapter 3, Building the Talent Pool, was really fun to read because it's a roll call of 30 years worth of Singaporean celebrities –– you recognise the names of so many journalists and editors whose bylines appear in the ST regularly even today, as well as current and former politicians.

Chapter 4, Building an Asian Network, is packed with highlights of the most important Malaysian, Indonesian, and Chinese events of the past 40 years –– Suharto, Tiananmen, as well as his and his staff's own experiences in the region.

Chapter 5, The Knuckledusters Era, covers some important issues that Malays in Singapore face from p145 - 158.

Chapter 6, OB Markers, in which the reader learns of LKY's peculiar bugbears: forbidding the media to publicise stamp sales and carpet auctions, or to extol MSG and fengshui, because Singaporean consumers, not knowing any better, would be taken advantage of.

Chapter 7, The Singapore Media Model, is a historical tour of media businesses in the US, UK, Philippines, Taiwan, and finally, our role models, Japan. We also learn how Lianhe Zaobao and SPH were formed.

Chapter 9, The First Prime Minister: Dude really respects Lee Kuan Yew.

Chapter 12, The Power to Do Good, tells of the Straits Times's role in the National Kidney Foundation scandal. I also learnt that many local celebrities – Lim Kay Tong, Michael Chiang (8 Days), Jacintha Abisheganaden, Violet Oon, KF Seetoh –– were former ST staff members!

[Hubert Han · Rating 2 out of 5]

The book is touted as a 'chronological and sensitive explanation of how the Republic's newspaper of record was shaped'. It is not chronological - there is no discernible rationale for the way the chapters are sequenced, and one suspects they were written independently from one another without a grand narrative providing coherence.

It is, however, extremely sensitive. Although hitherto private meetings between the government and press are referenced (which provides for interesting - though not fascinating - reading), Cheong often regurgitates the government's thought process. Where he attempts to express an opinion, it is mild, noncommittal, and rapidly culminates in spectacularly unconvincing capitulation to the establishment opinion.

The author has a fetish for certain words which are incessantly repeated - knuckledusters, beat, rookie. By the midway point of this book I physically cringed at every occasion of their use. My shoulders suffered greatly as a result.

The incredible potential of Cheong's memoirs is let down by its incoherence, sensitivity, and uncritical nature; and deserves 2 stars only for its limited factual recording of press-government relations away from the public eye.

[K · Rating 3 out of 5]

For an editor of a newspaper with such a long and illustrious history, it is surprising how badly edited this book is. It is tediously repetitive, with excerpts such as Singapore's lack of fourth estate status and minute details concerning the lives of colleagues, friends, bosses being (quite annoyingly) inserted into practically every chapter of the book.

I cannot deny that it has some value for readers interested in the world of the press, or the recent history of Singapore - there were some factoids and insights that took me quite by surprise - but overall, one really wonders why all the expense and effort was put into producing a 400-page tome when 100 pages or so would have sufficed.

[Ana · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book was so profoundly dull it nearly bored me out of caring about press freedom. While Cheong Yip Seng's historical accounts of his time at The Straits Times and governments intervention into the press - especially the accounts featuring Lee Kuan Yew - are valuable to "the Singapore story", the book was written in an immensely slow and repetitive way and was a poor read. You'd do better to read Francis Seow's The Media Enthralled and whatever you can find online about press freedom in Singapore.

[Vidhya Nair · Rating 4 out of 5]

A firsthand account on what it took to run Singapore's newspapers from independence to the present. The role of the newsroom & back room scoops on controversial headlines. Also the symbiotic relationship between the Straits Times and the government. How Lee Kuan Yew's methodology of shaping citizens minds with the right story slants making us who we are today. An account as honest as it gets, a useful document of history.

[Aik Lim · Rating 3 out of 5]

It's a good backgrounder on the unique newspaper/journalism take on covering the news Singapore-style. Clearly the Western model would find the disclosures and justifications of how Straits Times is so closely aligned to the PAP government distasteful and contrary to the journalism trade, it goes to great lengths to show LKY's strategic intent and viewpoints of how Singaporeans must be fed the Singapore narrative.

[Ernest · Rating 3 out of 5]

Interesting insights into the workings of ST. Essential reading for any students of media. Spotted one mistake which said that 'Puff the magic dragon' is a song by the Beatles. Also there are many repetitions which can be quite tiresome.

[Wens Tan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Vivid first hand and sometimes juicy anecdotes of what goes on behind the scenes of Singapore's English newspaper of record. However, the writing is rambling at times, especially when the author makes chronological jumps within a chapter and repeats himself across chapters.