Letter from the Editor
The claim that an average American goes through seven careers in their lifetime might seem slightly dubious to most of us. But the notion might not be too far‑fetched, especially if we consider futurist Rohit Talwar’s prediction that in the next 10 to 20 years, 30 to 80 per cent of jobs that exist today will no longer be relevant.
It’s a reality that we journalists have to contend with as well, as there are now AI programmes that can write articles. True, the software still isn’t very sophisticated, but given the warp speed with which content must be churned and digested every day, it’s only a matter of time until we’re replaced by a machine that can string a sentence, or three, together—with perhaps better grammatical accuracy than we can ever hope to achieve.
Yes, there will always be counterarguments about the efficacy of the machine’s cognitive reasoning and its ability (or lack thereof) to empathise, but why hire 10 writers when one machine can effectively push out the same news reports, at a faster pace and lower cost?
When I started my career more than a decade ago, the media industry’s focus was still purely on print, and digital was an afterthought. Over the years, we’ve had to morph our mindsets and adapt to creating content for a multitude of digital and social media platforms, including videos, Instagram, Facebook ... We’ve had to pick up a multitude of new skills and, along the way, I witnessed many peers abandon the media ship and find new callings.
If I’d known that I was on the cusp of the media revolution at the beginning of my career, would I still have embarked on it? I don’t have an answer to that, which is why I have deep respect for those who enter a career, knowing full well that there is an expiry date. Actors, actresses and sportsmen spring to mind. The likes of Roger Federer and Serena Williams (both 39 years old) defy convention, and seem to be exceptions rather than the rule. On average, tennis players retire when they’re around 30 to 33 years old. And if they’re not top seed with multimillion‑dollar sponsorship deals, the question begs to be asked: what’s the next step? For many, their identities are tethered to their disciplines, and having the foresight to give it up at the right time takes tremendous mental strength and resilience.
Our cover subject Joseph Schooling finds himself at a similar crossroads: the only Singaporean to have ever won a gold medal at the Olympics, he will be taking part in the upcoming 2021 Summer Olympics in Tokyo (still going ahead next month, at press time). Thereafter, his future remains a question mark: he tells former sports journalist Marc Lim (an old family friend of Schooling’s who has also written a children’s book about him) that he will take the decision after the competition. Sagaciously, Schooling opted to study economics at university, and rumours that he’s being headhunted by a number of financial institutions are rife. Showing a keen sense of astuteness, he’s already leveraged on his star power with a swimming school and fitness app, supplementing his sponsorship deals with business models that will exist long after he’s retired from the pool (p.130).
But this brings us to another, perhaps slightly more existential question: do our careers truly define us? And if our mission in life is to find our purpose, then are we stuck in a vicious cycle of conflating both in the hopes of finding meaning? Again, I wish I had an answer, but I will leave you with a thought‑provoking comment by former banker and pastor A R Bernard, “Purpose is dynamic. Purpose continues to be applied throughout your life. Because your gifts, your talents, and your abilities that are given to you by God remain consistent throughout your life. But how you apply that changes as you live life from one level to another and you go through stages of life.”
Stay safe, and enjoy the issue!