Tag: The Nanyang Chronicle

Union for university, U for Union?

E-mails are being circulated among NTU students about possible protests soon. Teng Kie Zin and Gary Goh, a first-year School of Communication and Information student and a second-year Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering student respectively, have separately attempted to organise movements to express dissatisfaction with the school.

Their decision to work without the Students’ Union (SU) has highlighted the failure of the SU to “provide a recognised means of communication between members of the Union and the University” as mandated in their constitution. This is despite the SU’s efforts to organise channels of feedback, like the dialogue session.

Most importantly, the SU has failed “to promote and safeguard the interests of the members of the Union within the University” as stated in its constitution.

Its inability to get the support of the students can be attributed to the fact that it cannot change things.

For instance, why was it unable to negotiate an earlier release of the news of the fee hike even though they knew beforehand? It would have helped to diffuse much of the unhappiness felt by the students now.

One of the problems is that the administration did not engage the SU enough in decision-making and instead left it the job of appeasing and explaining decisions like the fee hike to the students. Thus, the SU acts like the official voice of the school more than the voice of the students.

With the means of communication between the administration and students monopolised by the former, many students have turned apathetic, feeling that it takes too much to change things. Others, like Teng and Goh, have instead chosen to bypass the SU and speak directly to the administration instead.

The Nanyang Chronicle, 6th March 2006

Advertising for serious journalism

SOMETHING was missing from my Straits Times (ST). Where were my “Home” and “Life” sections? It took me a while, but when I finally found them, I was shocked.

The two sections were covered by full-page advertisements and the only clue of what the real covers underneath looked like were at the corner of the page.

While it only took a flip of the page to bring order back into my daily read, this “cover-up” of news was definitely the headline of my day.

Firstly, the move to allow advertisers to take up page one of sections of the newspaper gives them more clout. It’s similar to the way new initiatives like weekly supplements diverts resources of the newspaper away from serious journalism and distracts readers from the issues of the day. ST appears to be trading responsibility to the reader for advertiser cash.

Newspapers have always had an uneasy relationship with the people who pay for them. Advertisers pay most, but they’re only there as long as the paper has readers. Alienate the readers, and the advertisers walk too.

This move to “cover-up” looks symbolic of a shift in the balance towards advertisers and away from its readers.

While newspapers and advertisers are interested in readers, they are selective about which kind of readers they want. Again, this “cover-up” could lead to a newspaper losing its responsibility and relevance to the general public, and end up pandering only to readers that serve the interest of advertisers.

Just before the “cover-up”, Cheong Yip Seng, the editor-in-chief of ST wrote how the survival of a newspaper hinges on its credibility and ability to practise serious journalism. Serious journalism costs money; who will pay for it?

One answer appears to be allowing advertisements on the front of two sections. Today has been putting advertisements all over its page one for some time, so it is not surprising that ST gets requests from advertisers for the same treatment.

Unlike Today, though, ST is not dependent on money from advertisers as it has revenue from subscribers and news-stand sales, too.

So, while ST has yet to allow a full-page advertisement to front its cover page, with this latest move, who is to say it will not happen tomorrow? The “Home” section contains serious news. By allowing advertisers to buy page one of a serious news section, ST has weakened its position if an advertiser wants to buy page one of the whole paper.

And there are other signs that ST is going the extra mile to get advertisers.

The decision to introduce Urban, Mind Your Body and Digital Lifestyle has been said to better cater to readers. But aren’t ST’s supplements equally a sign that it is trying to cater to specific advertisers, too?

Also, while ST has introduced more critical sections like Insight as well as this consumer-friendly fare, the fact that the former only has two pages while the latter runs on its own speaks volumes about where ST has chosen to place new resources.

Some argue that these new sections serve popular interests, and I do not dispute that. Yet, there has been a myth that separates what is “popular” and “serious”. Can serious journalism that is popular not exist? The reports on the NKF scandal last year were a piece of serious journalism, followed closely by many readers. This, I feel, is the way for ST to go.

It should take advantage of the fact that it is the most widely read broadsheet English paper in Singapore, and pour in more resources to deliver more critical content.

ST should be careful to balance this precarious relationship with advertisers and readers. In any case, the readers should wield the most influence.

Advertisers are after all interested in getting to the readers and readers themselves will only read newspapers that are credible. Serious journalism is the way to go, and if it matters, the readers will willingly pay for it.

As Mr. Cheong expressed, popular journalism caters to readers while serious journalism enhances a newspaper’s credibility, and helps ST in a world being overtaken by the Internet.

I think that ST straddles between being a popular and critical paper. At the end of the day it is up the editors and stakeholders to choose which direction they want to take.

The Nanyang Chronicle, 6th Mar 2006

Of porn and politics

I don’t keep a stash of porn films in the corner of my cupboard, not because I’m scared my mum will find out but rather it would cost me a fine of up to $40, 000 or a prison term of up to two years, or even both, if I were convicted under Singapore law.

The law in Singapore acts to protect our values and promote virtue, in a manner that Aristotle argued should be its proper end.

Hence, pornography, widely regarded as detrimental to society, surely deserves such stiff laws to protect Singaporeans from falling prey to it.

Within the Films Act, where this law is found, is also an amendment from 1998 involving the making, distributing or exhibiting of party political films.

Any of the above might mean facing a fine of up to $100, 000 or a prison term of up to two years. Why ban political party films?

Are they more dangerous than pornography?

If pornography could corrupt our views on sex and demean women, what could politics do to warrant such a law?

Minister for Information, Communication and the Arts, Dr Lee Boon Yang, said in a recent interview with The Straits Times that a ban on party political films is necessary because of the emotional nature of the medium.

It “can arouse all kinds of reactions without an opportunity for the rebuttal to be made effectively.”

He added that while Singaporeans were intelligent and mature and could make their own judgments, there were some who were not discerning enough.

Indeed, party political films that border along the lines of propaganda have a powerful effect on its viewers.

During World War II, both the Allies and the Axis powers were guilty of portraying the other in a distorted fashion in the films, to win the hearts and minds of the people.

However, this amendment to the Films Act does not apply to films sponsored by the Government.

Think about the films we watched about Singapore’s struggle for independence.

The PAP is featured extensively as the ones who made Singapore successful.

While I do not dispute that, what I find interesting is that other political elements of Singapore’s history like David Marshall and his Labour Front and the Barisan Sosialis consistently get sidelined as footnotes of Singapore’s history.

Can such films be classified as “party political films”?

What is the amendment of the Films Act regarding party political films suppose to protect Singaporeans from?

“Singapore Rebel”, a 26-minute documentary about Dr Chee Soon Juan of the Singapore Democratic Party, caught the attention of Singaporean filmmakers when it was suggested to have breached the Films Act.

It was pulled out from the Singapore International Films Festival after the Board of Film Censors informed its maker, Martyn See, that he could be jailed or fined if he were to screen it to the public as it was objectionable under this act.

Subsequently, he was called up by police for investigations and had the remaining copies of his film and his video camera confiscated.

The underlying question is what purpose does this law serve: to protect the citizens from politics or to protect politics from its citizens?

The Nanyang Chronicle, 17th Oct 2005