Are Elected MPs Enough?
Chapter 20, Section 3: Possibilities, The Nominated Member of Parliament Scheme: Are Unelected Voices Still Necessary? by Anthea Ong (2022)
Editor’s Note: This final essay of the book and the section on ‘Possibilities’ inverts the question of whether unelected MPs are still necessary: are elected MPs enough in a supermajority Parliament and a majoritarian democracy? I ask many questions in looking at the possibilities for the NMP scheme and propose a possible reframe of NMP as Non-Majority Members of Parliament (NMMP) to proportionally represent minority groups and alternative views even in a balanced parliament. Mostly, I do not think we can examine the NMP scheme in isolation from a discussion on what a future-ready Parliament looks like. I also spill some beans and share some behind-the-scenes!
“The Nominated Member of Parliament or NMP scheme is a parliamentary innovation in a unicameral system that is uniquely Singapore…,” was how I began my earnest sharing on a wintry morning in London at the UK Commonwealth Parliamentary Association’s 68th Westminster Seminar on Effective Parliaments on 25 November 2019. Representing Singapore with MP Murali Pillai, I found myself as an NMP — and my choice of that prussian blue cheongsam — the subject of much curiosity for my fellow parliamentarians from all over the Commonwealth. Through the week of many questions and conversations, I was shamelessly self-justifying and zealously defending the merits of this feat of electoral engineering, peculiar to the political context of my country with its supermajority parliament and single-party dominance since independence.
Yet it was only eight years before, following the 2011 ‘watershed’ general election, that I had promptly turned down a nomination invitation from a luminary from the civic sector. I was not suitably convinced then of the usefulness of the NMP scheme in an electoral democracy. Nor was I persuaded that being an NMP could be more impactful for the communities that I care about than being a social entrepreneur solving problems directly with people on the ground.
Notably, in those eight years, nothing about the NMP scheme changed, nor did the parliamentary supermajority held by the People’s Action Party (PAP). Unfortunately, neither did the mounting challenges facing mental health, marginalised communities (including migrant workers) and Mother Earth (I call these the ‘3Ms’ of my heart) that we were, and are still grappling with as a society.
So my mind changed when the second invitation came from the National Volunteer & Philanthropy Centre (NVPC) in early 2018. I stepped forward, no longer asking whether unelected voices should be in Parliament but determined to serve the ‘3Ms’ and curious to find out if elected MPs are indeed enough in a supermajority Parliament amidst rising inequality.
Of ‘Hobby Horses’ and Unvotables in a Majoritarian Democracy
I sometimes forget that this supermajority parliament we have had since independence came as a result of the “extra parliamentary struggle” boycott of elections by the Barisan Socialis in 1968. It prompted a slew of parliamentary innovations, including the Group Representation Constituency (GRC), Non-Constituency MP (NCMP) and NMP schemes.
During the heated 1989 debate on the NMP scheme, amongst other reasons, then-PAP MP Dr Tan Cheng Bock argued against the scheme on grounds of NMPs “peddling self interest”, quoting then-Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew’ by s use of “hobby horse”. Dr Tan also added that “…we must beware of the eager-beavers who are supporting this scheme because they want to get into this House to serve their own ends and not the interest of Singaporeans”.
I must say I am happy to have proved him right 28 years later — about the ‘horse’ part, not the ‘beaver’ (‘eager’ would have seen me say yes the first time round)!
“How are you able to speak about mental health in just about every bill?”, asked a fellow NMP earnestly midway through our term. Indeed, I was relentless in surfacing my ‘hobby horse’ of mental health during the two years to underscore the widespread impact that policies have on the mental health of the population.
My volition in championing mental health began in 2006 following my own brush with depression. For too long (and in some quarters even today), mental health was merely deemed a ‘medical’ issue but where and how we learn, live, play, work and age clearly impacts our mental wellbeing. Social inequalities are also associated with increased risk of mental disorders.
Therefore, everything we do — or do not do in Parliament — affects the mental health and wellbeing of our people. The absence of a robust mental health discourse in Parliament when I joined was thus deafening and disturbing, so was the lack of public engagement on mental health policies. My team and I conducted a public consultation on mental health that informed and substantiated my Budget 2020 debates.
Hobby horses are necessary if elected MPs aren’t talking about them because they are not seen as majority issues. Flagging mental health as a national priority and the urgent need for a national coordinating body in 2019 was unintentionally prescient given the devastating impact of the Covid-19 crisis on mental health since 2020.
The first-past-the-post electoral system means our Parliament is based on majoritarian representation, not proportional. We may have built-in constitutional safeguards for racial and religious minorities with the Presidential Council for Minority Rights, but not for all other minority groups, e.g persons with disabilities, single mothers, migrant workers, the LGBTQ+ community, sex workers, and so on, to ensure that bills passed do not discriminate against them. These minorities — some more than others- are what I call ‘unvotables’, as speaking up for them may put elected MPs, including opposition MPs, in political peril with the majority of voters.
For instance, the Government has defended its stance on not repealing Section 377A of the Penal Code, an inherited colonial law that criminalises consensual sex between men, on grounds of majoritarianism, despite the “antiquated law” being challenged repeatedly by eminent legal experts like former NMP Professor Walter Woon, Professor Tommy Koh and former Chief Justice Chan Sek Keong. In October 2007, former NMP Siew Kum Hong bravely tabled the parliamentary petition to repeal Section 377A in response to the Penal Code (Amendment) Bill; although a heated debate expectedly ensued, the law was retained.
Similarly, in order to placate the burgeoning NIMBY (‘not-in-my-backyard’) sentiments of residents and voters, swathes of migrant workers were moved to the periphery of the island, following calls by MPs in the 1990s. The inadequate enforcement regarding their living conditions and emergency preparedness provisions under the Foreign Employee Dormitories Act (2015) prior to the COVID-19 pandemic, coupled with seeing the harrowing ground situation unfolding first-hand, compelled me to ask the Government if it would consider issuing an apology to our migrant workers during the Ministerial Statements debate in May 2020 . This was particularly in light of the stringent confinement of workers to their rooms/dormitories in order to contain the spread of the disease, which has continued even as I write this in January 2022.
That question and the response that followed took on a life of its own. I was subjected to an unsolicited crash course on hate memes, trolls and internet brigades. Suffice to say, I came to understand clearly the ills of majoritarian democracy and why elected MPs from both sides of the House — save for activist MP Louis Ng — treaded carefully and stayed away from migrant worker issues, even if these residents are a significant part of our society serving our needs and living in our midst.
Being purposeful with my ‘hobby horses’ and ‘unvotables’ gave me clarity in strategy and courage to show up in the chamber without fear or favour (most of the time anyway) during my term. NMPs like Dr Kanwaljit Soin (“women and ageing issues”), Braema Mathi (“human rights”), Faizah Jamal (“environment”), Laurence Lien (“social recession”), Eugene Tan (“constitutionality”) and Janice Koh (“arts and censorship”), to name just a few, were similarly resolute and perspicuous over why and what they were in Parliament for.
I am not saying that elected MPs cannot or did not raise these important issues; a good number have. However, I am not convinced they would/could do it with the same focus, consistency and fervour, given that (a) their foremost priority as town council chairs would understandably be the wide-ranging municipal needs of their residents; (b) they may not have the lived experience or proximity to such issues to appreciate their wider implications across the population; and © they may not believe representing these invisible issues and ‘unvotables’ would endear them to majority of their constituents for the votes they need.
Scrutinising a Supermajority Government: Are Elected MPs Enough?
In the 1989 debate on the NMP scheme, then-MP and now Minister for Law and Home Affairs, Mr. K. Shanmugam, argued that the scheme will “make the Government more responsive” because “trenchant criticism” or votes against the government by NMPs who are “honourable and decent’’ cannot be “explained away easily”, unlike that from the Opposition which can be explained away on partisan grounds. The Government is also secure in the knowledge that its MPs are subjected to the Whip, no matter the scrutiny. He further argued that trenchant views from NMPs could signal to the people that the Government “has not been able to carry the day”.
This might be why the good Minister penned a commentary for Channel NewsAsia headlined “NMPs agree with major points of the Falsehoods Bill” on 3 May 2019, in response to the amendment motion for the controversial Protection against Online Falsehoods and Manipulation Bill (POFMA) filed by myself, Walter Theseira and Irene Quay. I would argue that the headline should have more accurately stated that “NMPs did not agree with the Falsehoods Bill on three major points”, but I understand the optics of having NMPs on the side of the proposed Bill. There was widespread public outcry on the Bill; our amendment motion received much media attention.
“It must be remembered that the function of Parliament is not only to pass good laws but to stop bad laws”, said Winston Churchill. As a first-term parliamentarian, I was naively hopeful that the Government would concede to some, even if not all, of the amendments proposed, especially given the good faith meetings and negotiations we had with the Minister and the Ministry staff prior to the debate on 7 May 2019. This, to my mind, would demonstrate a well-functioning parliamentary democracy at work — that the Government is open to alternative views expressed in a civil manner through existing parliamentary mechanisms — but it was not to be. Instead, I was soon pugnaciously updating my speech in real time as it hit me that some Ministers and PAP MPs were taking turns to gun down our amendment motion, perhaps to demonstrate that the Government was “able to carry the day”.
Choosing to abstain was my way of agreeing with the intent of the Bill but disagreeing over the exclusion of the three major points we raised for the law to be fair and just. Truth be told, I almost pressed the “no” button on my seat at the call for division, as I was rather indignant from the seemingly co-ordinated offensive. Thankfully, I refrained in that split second because doing so would perpetuate a parliamentary culture that is partisan, binary and blunt — that context, reasoning and nuances have no place in debates and law-making, despite the complexities that we are dealing with as a society.
The POFMA experience solidified for me that the Government takes scrutiny by NMPs rather seriously; the absence of a partisan agenda apparently makes any disagreements or alternative views by NMPs more weighty in the public’s eyes. A senior political office-holder even remarked that our objections to the POFMA Bill could make Singaporeans think that “there must be something wrong with the law”.
I also became braver in speaking up after that baptism of fire.
Unnerving as it was to come between the crossfires, I participated in the motion on Aljunied-Hougang Town Council. In the wake of the Yale-NUS saga involving Alfian Sa’at, I spoke on youth activism and questioned the Government’s uncompromising stance on activism and dissent, in support of Walter Theseira’s adjournment motion on liberal education.
Several senior political office-holders tried to ‘persuade’ me in the tea room not to go ahead with the speech that evening. I understood their concerns, given the spate of youth-led protests in Hong Kong at the time, but I’d rather have our youths raise their views and concerns — through me in this case — to the right forum for debate in Parliament than via other insidious channels. The ‘unsayable’ has to be said in Parliament, which is, in my view, the most important forum for citizen participation, rather than left to lurk and have their flames fanned in echo chambers created by the algorithmic manoeuvers of social media that can only polarise and cause division.
I also strongly believe that how parliamentarians debate on controversial and sensitive issues in the chamber, beyond merely what is said, is role-modelling to the people, especially youths, how we must engage with each other as fellow citizens on the same.
‘Inconvenient’ I may have been in the chamber with my hobby horses, ‘unvotables’ and ‘unsayables’, but several ministries have been sincere in taking up engagements with me beyond the chamber and turning talk into action; a few have continued till today. The fear of what might happen is usually greater than reality, or it might be that I am still oblivious to the ‘cost’ to me of speaking up!
Notwithstanding that we must continue to strive towards a balanced Parliament, the truth remains that we do not have one now. As long as the Whip system remains, I would argue that there would not be enough scrutiny of the Government by a majority of government MPs. Neither could the growing number of opposition MPs in a supermajority Parliament practically give voice to all ‘unvotables’ if they need the majority on their side. For example, will the Opposition raise the repeal of 377A?
Elected MPs are therefore not enough in a parliamentary supermajority, but are they enough for a balanced Parliament when in a majoritarian democracy, majority interests and dominant narratives are (understandably) always foremost in the minds of elected politicians?
Ask Not if NMPs Are Still Relevant but Whether Our Parliamentary System Is
The NMP scheme today, save for being made a permanent feature and the introduction of the seven functional groups, has stayed much the same in mechanics as recommended by the Select Committee back in 1990 despite the changing contexts of our society.
Notwithstanding the opacity of the selection process and performance measurements, the arguments against the NMP scheme on the grounds of it being undemocratic are a tad too convenient and binary — as are the arguments for the scheme based on the merits of NMPs.
Now that I’ve been one, I would submit that the question to ask is not whether the scheme is still relevant more than three decades on, or if NMPs will be necessary with more Opposition MPs in the House. Instead, we should be curious about the possibilities for this electoral engineering ‘experiment’ in the context of Singaporean society today.
In much the same way that we have three branches of government under the Constitution, could Parliament also be an equally weighted three-branch structure where the NMP scheme is sufficiently strengthened to be a non-partisan check against the divisiveness of a two-party system from mature democracies we are seeing in the United States and UK? If NMPs are expected to participate in Parliamentary debates with the same rigour in research and substance, should they not be provided with the minimal level of secretarial and legislative support as other MPs? Should the term of service be aligned to the full term to ensure NMPs are fully invested and that Parliament benefits from their confidence and experience gained, making their contributions more meaningful and substantial as evidenced by the only two private members’ bills tabled by the longest serving NMPs in history?
Beyond democratic ideals, we must urgently consider the intergenerational impact of social stratification in an almost perfect meritocracy over 56 years, especially the equity and availability of opportunities for the minorities in our midst. What kind of Parliament will truly represent all Singaporeans and residents, not just the majority? How can the NMP scheme evolve to mitigate rising inequality and widening divides amidst growing political polarisation? Can the NMP scheme be reframed into a “proportional” system as non-majority members of parliament (NMMPs) that ensures our minority groups, invisible issues, unvotables and unsayables are represented?
Truth be told, I am still baffled that the functional groups of business, labour and professions were introduced to the NMP scheme in 1997. Aren’t business owners and professionals already aptly represented, given their active participation as grassroots leaders and volunteers within the political party system? Aren’t labour MPs more than entrenched in representation through the ruling party? With the economy, jobs and cost of living high on all partisan agendas, these three sectors would hardly ever be at risk of becoming ‘minority interests’; in fact, they might be ‘over-represented’ by both ruling and opposition MPs alike. I would argue that these sectors need not be represented by NMPs, or NMMPs.
Albert Camus famously said that “democracy is not the law of the majority but the protection of the minority”. Issues that fall outside majority support such as arts, sports, migrant workers, the LGBTQ+ community, civic and people sectors should be given voice by design, but who should decide which groups and sectors ‘NMMPs’ should be nominated from? Could we exercise participatory democracy and let the public decide what minority and/or national issues are important to them?
Some open mandate is better than no mandate. If the public is asked to vote for Singaporean of the Year — which is positioned not as a popularity exercise but in recognition of the human ideals we aspire towards — can we ask for votes to shortlist NMP candidates for the eventual slate? Or maybe we could institutionalise the same town hall process of representation and accountability that the Arts community has employed over the years to mandate their representative?
Or perhaps, going even further, should we have district elections for non-partisan candidates to be Mayors who will also be in Parliament as NMPs?
I have more questions than answers but that curiosity, I humbly think, is exactly what we need for the system we are in to see itself. We need a national conversation on what a future-ready Parliament looks like, and how the NMP scheme needs to evolve accordingly.
We may have a supermajority parliament but we also have, by all measures, a strong and effective government that is more than benign in intention for Singapore. It, however, could no longer hold all the answers for all Singaporeans as we mature and evolve as a society. The Government is accountable to Parliament, and Parliament represents the people who must necessarily be part of this ongoing effort to strengthen our system of government with a robust, responsive and inclusive Parliament.
We cannot become what we want if we remain what we were 32 years ago.
Ending a Chapter with Love and Gratitude
I love Singapore. There is no greater honour than to serve my country and humanity, and no greater privilege than to serve this way as a member of the 13th Parliament, especially as part of a pandemic Parliament tackling the crisis of a generation.
I would not have imagined that the deep dark place of despair back in 2006 would lead me on a trajectory that saw me speaking up in Parliament for those who cannot speak for themselves as an NMP. I was also speaking for myself as a Singaporean.
This ‘uniquely Singapore’ electoral innovation may not have truly belonged since its birth but I felt deeply the significance of my seat in the hallowed chamber, and also strangely at home. “Work is love made visible” by poet Khalil Gibran could not describe my experience more accurately, I was wholeheartedly assiduous.
Perhaps, no matter what the NMP scheme becomes, it’ll always be up to the NMP to choose what this privilege means personally.
On that same trip to London at the end of 2019, I was introduced by a mutual friend to Lord Andrew Stone, a peer with the House of Lords, with whom I share a strong aspiration for the world to have more mindful parliaments to transform politics. Together with a group of House of Commons MPs, he filed a motion for mindfulness training to be part of Parliament business for all MPs in 2014; the motion passed. I had planned to do the same in Singapore but it was not to be as COVID-19 hit and then Parliament dissolved shortly after. This remains my only unfulfilled wish.
I completed my 21-month term on 23 June 2020 when Parliament dissolved for the 2020 General Election. I did not intend to seek a second term as I was completely certain that I would not be re-selected, but finally relented the week before closing when a group of young changemakers earnestly asked me to. How could I not show them that it’s okay to throw yourself in the arena, even if the odds are stacked against you? Or that there is no shame in not being selected after publicly sharing that you are applying for a second term, knowing that either result says something about the NMP scheme and its selection process?
I turned down the NMP invitation the first time round; perhaps it was befitting that I would be turned down the second time. I am thankful that I gave my all when I could.
Editor’s Cut: A Q&A with Anthea Ong
(This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity.)
What is your most memorable moment from your time in Parliament?
Too many! The first one would be getting the House to take three mindful breaths with me before I made my maiden speech. I do this centering practice at each meeting and/or talk, whether with CEOs or 15 year old students. What we do in Parliament is an immense responsibility which affects everyone in this country, so how can we not be totally present and engaged for each sitting? I went in with that thought, but was a real ball of nerves — wondering if there was something in the Standing Order that could mean breaking the rules since this hasn’t been done before, or if I was going to be seen as un-Parliamentary … but I did it, and everyone went along with it. I was delighted that the Prime Minister, who also meditates himself, gave me an encouraging smile and started thumping the armrest! As a rookie NMP and a dedicated meditation practitioner, with all the nerves I was carrying, that was a very very special moment.
POFMA, obviously, is another. Being so deeply involved in the law-making process of such a significant piece of legislation was incredibly hard work but also strangely energising and empowering … When I look back, I’m like: was that really me doing and saying all that in Parliament? There was indignation too, like when Minister Shanmugam stood up and said that we NMPs weren’t legally trained in a way that seemed to be slighting our effort, and the seemingly coordinated offensive against our amendments by the PAP MPs. Where did that courage and clarity come from in standing up and responding to all that in real time? I’m still clueless.
There are many little things too, like PM Lee coming up to me in the tea room after reading my book, 50 Shades of Love. His jaw dropped a bit when he asked me how long I meditate and I said sometimes two hours! Such encounters are very special, because they’re such human moments in an otherwise very officious setting.
How did being an NMP change you as a person and/or the work you do?
Before being an NMP, I was already very invested within civil society, inhabiting these diverse spaces and communities — sometimes being an ideator, sometimes playing an advisory or mentorship role — so being an NMP was an extension, albeit a significant one, of my role as a changemaker.
Having said all that, the experience was still very transformative for me. It’s very strange, because it’s not like I’d never been in a position of power or influence, but I felt quite strongly throughout that this was a very different, higher kind of authority and responsibility. The responses I got towards some of my speeches, and the sheer number of strangers who reached out to me — this sense that people really believed in me, or had high hopes for what I would do, was all very new and humbling.
I’m human, and I would be lying if I say it didn’t feel good to be received so positively — it also really helped when the hate memes came! — but at the same time, I knew that if I wasn’t mindful, it would be easy to get carried away with all the attention and forget my purpose and the people I was there for. This privilege wasn’t given to me, for me. I wanted to come to it as the Singaporean I am, who loves my country and its people, and was therefore very intentional about the need to ground myself so I bring the voices of the people into Parliament, not just mine. Every morning when I meditated and journaled, I would bring myself back to my true nature without all the labels. It was strange but I don’t think my spiritual practice was deeper than it was during those two years as a parliamentarian! The higher I went on the outside, the deeper I had to go inside.
Based on your time in Parliament, what advice would you give future NMPs?
There are practical aspects to this, and then there are more introspective ones.
In terms of the practical, I would say organise yourself. I don’t just mean getting legislative help, but actually doing some strategic planning as to the support systems you will need for the next two and a half years, and having a clear vision in mind as to what you want to achieve.
It takes a while to get into the swing of things — there’s a very brief onboarding process, and suddenly there are all these Bills to read and it can be so, so daunting when you’re not trained in reading legalese or know about the drafting process. I was thankful that I had years of C-suite experience in strategic planning and was already active in civil society. So, like a professional beggar, I went out and asked who would like to join me as my support team. By the end of my term, I had a vibrant collective of almost 40 outstanding volunteers to discuss strategies with, do research and offer moral support. But in mobilising these volunteers, it’s also really important to know your vision during your term — how else are you going to convince them to give you their time?
I think it’s also important to try and align with your fellow NMPs. For example, I supported Walter Theseira in his adjournment motion on liberal education, and Lim Sun Sun supported my adjournment motion on closing the digital divide. My cohort had discussed tabling a motion together on mental health but the spate of Covid-19 Budget debates and then Parliament dissolving shortly after made that moot. Walter Theseira and I also discussed a possible motion on repealing 377A.
Becoming a public figure overnight is not always comfortable for everyone, nor is the great responsibility that comes with such privilege. It’s not helpful too that the narrative of NMPs is not always flattering or empowering. In my early days as an NMP, during a coffee with Professor Tommy Koh, he wisely said, “Whether the NMP scheme is tokenistic or not is up to you.” I think it’s important to set your intention as an NMP. Who am I, what are my values? Who am I giving voice to, how will I do that? What do I want to bring to this role?
There are no right or wrong answers, but I do think that if you don’t ask yourself these questions, it might not be a very fulfilling journey even if you’re well-organised because you may not be able to act without fear or favour. Nor do you want to get caught out when your term ends and find yourself asking, what have I done and who have I been in my time here?
How would you sum up your time as an NMP in one sentence?
It was a gift in the most monumental way, because it wasn’t just about getting to bring all the people who trusted in me along on this journey, but also allowed me to see my own gifts and vulnerabilities in the most humbling manner.
I’m still only just beginning to accept that I deserve this as my place to be — that of a leader, advocate, activist working for change from the ground all the way to the highest law-making body of the country. Yes, there were uncomfortable parts like losing my anonymity and stretching myself beyond exhaustion given the lack of institutional support, but those were small inconveniences. It was such an expansive and empowering process for me and ultimately a deep, deep privilege to get to serve in this way. In showing up wholeheartedly, I finally got to understand what it means to be part of something larger.
Anthea Ong is a former Nominated Member of Parliament (2018–2020), social entrepreneur, mental health advocate, and author. She has published extensively on mental health, leadership, and social entrepreneurship and is the editor/author of ‘The Nominated Member of Parliament Scheme: Are Unelected Voices Still Necessary in Parliament?’.