Kiasu & Kiasi: Rethinking Organisational Change in Singapore

In many organisations today, movement has become synonymous with progress. New technologies are introduced, structures are redesigned and capabilities are continuously refreshed. Adaptation is rightly valued, but the expectation of perpetual transformation can also create a shared sense that we should always be changing, always preparing and always moving.

In Singapore, this emphasis on adaptation feels both familiar and necessary. We are a small nation with few natural resources, deeply connected to global flows of trade, capital and talent. Our development story has been built upon an acute awareness that standing still is rarely an option.

This instinct has served us exceptionally well. It has produced capable institutions, economic resilience and a reputation for execution and excellence that is admired around the world.

At the heart of this success are two cultural dispositions that most Singaporeans recognise instinctively: kiasu and kiasi.

Kiasu and Kiasi as Sources of Strength

Kiasu and kiasi are often discussed in negative terms. Yet to dismiss them would be to misunderstand an important part of our collective success.

Kiasu reflects a determination to prepare thoroughly, strive for excellence and avoid complacency. Kiasi reflects a healthy appreciation of risks and consequences and encourages thoughtful, disciplined action.

These qualities have helped us build high-performing organisations and a society that takes its responsibilities seriously. They have fostered adaptability and enabled us to respond quickly to changing circumstances.

The question before us is therefore not whether kiasu and kiasi are good or bad.

The question is whether the next chapter of organisational life requires us to evolve what these qualities mean.

The Rise of Collective Adrenaline

Over time, the imperative to remain competitive can create what I would describe as “a state of collective adrenaline”.

Collective adrenaline is a shared sense of urgency and vigilance. It is the feeling that there is always another disruption to prepare for, another capability to acquire, another restructuring to undertake and another benchmark to achieve.

In moderate doses, collective adrenaline can be enormously productive. It mobilises effort and focuses attention. It encourages organisations to remain alert and responsive.

The difficulty arises when this state becomes permanent.

Human beings are not designed to live indefinitely in conditions of heightened alertness. Nor are organisations. When urgency becomes the default operating mode, change itself can become incessant. People are asked to adapt repeatedly without sufficient opportunity to consolidate, recover or make meaning of what has changed.

Over time, this can produce fatigue, emotional disengagement and a subtle erosion of trust. Employees may become less willing to invest emotionally because priorities seem transient and every period of stability feels provisional.

Paradoxically, the relentless pursuit of adaptability can begin to undermine the very human capacities that make adaptation possible.

When Collective Adrenaline Becomes Groupthink

There is another risk that deserves greater attention.

Collective adrenaline can gradually become a form of groupthink.

A shared assumption emerges that constant acceleration is inherently virtuous, that more restructuring necessarily demonstrates responsiveness and that every perceived external challenge demands immediate organisational action.

The possibility that an organisation may need a period of consolidation, stability or reflection becomes difficult to articulate. To suggest slowing down may even appear complacent or insufficiently ambitious.

Yet questioning change is not the same as opposing it.

I am not arguing for less change. Change is inevitable and, in many cases, highly necessary. My concern is that we sometimes become so accustomed to changing that we spend insufficient time understanding why we are changing, what problem we are trying to solve and what the human consequences of the change might be.

Asking these questions is not resistance. It is part of changing well.

Constant movement is not the same as progress. Sometimes the discipline to pause and ask why is precisely what prevents change from becoming activity for activity's sake.

Why This Matters

This conversation is not ultimately about the pace of change. Nor is it an argument against ambition, competitiveness or adaptation.

It matters because organisational cultures shape human experiences. The way we approach change influences whether people feel energised or exhausted, engaged or detached, trusted or merely managed.

When change becomes relentless and unquestioned, people may continue performing while becoming emotionally disconnected from their work and one another. Over time, this can weaken trust, diminish creativity and reduce the very resilience that organisations depend upon in times of uncertainty.

The deeper question, therefore, is not whether we should change.

The deeper question is what kind of emotional culture we create through our approach to change.

Do we cultivate organisations where people feel perpetually behind and constantly bracing for the next disruption? Or do we create organisations that are ambitious and adaptable while also providing enough stability, trust and psychological safety for people to contribute fully over the long term?

The Case for More "Kia Si Mi"

Perhaps this is where Singapore's cultural vocabulary offers us another useful disposition: kia si mi.

Loosely translated, it means, "Scared of what?"

Kia si mi is not recklessness. Nor is it an argument against discipline or ambition.

Rather, it reflects a deeper confidence. It is the willingness to trust that we have built capabilities, institutions and relationships robust enough to withstand setbacks. It is the ability to experiment without assuming that every mistake is catastrophic. It is the courage to recognise that not every dip in a ranking or every period of slower change constitutes an existential threat.

At an organisational level, kia si mi means trusting people more. It means creating conditions where experimentation is encouraged, where thoughtful dissent is welcomed and where psychological safety is seen not as a soft concern but as a strategic capability.

Most importantly, it means trusting ourselves.

After decades of building resilience and capability, perhaps we can afford to be slightly less driven by fear and slightly more guided by confidence.

From Survival to Sustainable Adaptation

Singapore's remarkable success has been shaped by a powerful survival story. We learned that we must remain hungry, vigilant and adaptable because the costs of complacency could be severe.

That story remains an important part of who we are.

Yet every successful society eventually encounters a different challenge. The task is no longer merely survival. It is sustainability.

Sustainable adaptation requires more than continuous urgency. It requires emotional energy, trust, psychological safety and the confidence to know when to move quickly and when to consolidate.

Perhaps the next stage of organisational change in Singapore is not about becoming less kiasu or less kiasi.

It is about complementing these strengths with a little more kia si mi.

Not because we no longer care about excellence, but because we have become confident enough to pursue excellence without needing to live perpetually on collective adrenaline.

#EmotionalCulture #SingaporeCulture #reduceanxietyatwork

(This article was published in Linkedin on 1 July 2026)