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Malay Mail
3 days ago
- General
- Malay Mail
Not all leaders shout — Nahrizul Adib Kadri
MAY 29 — I was never the loud one. Not in school. Not at family gatherings. Not in lecture halls, faculty meetings, or boardrooms. I've never felt the need to raise my voice just to be seen. I don't dominate a room. I don't seek the centre. But I've always been there. And over time, I've come to realise: being loud isn't the same as being effective. And presence doesn't require volume. We live in a world that often rewards noise. The loudest voices get the clicks. The most confident ones, the spotlight. The extroverted, the assertive, the performative — they're labelled natural leaders. But here's the truth: visibility isn't leadership. And performance isn't presence. Back in school, I wasn't the most brilliant, nor the most charismatic. I was somewhere in the middle — quiet, observant, a little nerdy. I didn't attract crowds, but I built friendships that spanned groups: the overachievers, the rebels, the in-betweens. I was the guy who would listen while others talked, who helped organise without demanding credit. Somehow, that made me trustworthy. And maybe that's why I ended up as president of the Arts Club — not because I asked for it, but because people knew I'd show up, get things done, and treat everyone fairly. That moment taught me something that stayed with me: leadership isn't about drawing attention. It's about holding responsibility — even when no one's watching. Years later, that same quiet rhythm carried into my professional life. As an academic, I've led departments, managed student communities, sat on panels, and even directed a corporate communications centre for a major university. I've helped the Universiti Malaya (UM) community (lecturers, staff, students) to appear in the media nearly 2,000 times. But you won't find me making grand speeches or chasing virality. My approach is different. Quieter. More deliberate. I lead by doing. By writing. By connecting people. By creating room for others to grow. Silence isn't awkward; it's respectful. Pauses carry meaning. What is not said can be just as powerful as what is. Speaking less doesn't mean knowing less; it often means knowing when to speak. — Unsplash pic And still, I've never needed to shout. Malcolm Gladwell, in his 2013 book David and Goliath, talks about the 'advantage of disadvantage.' He reframes how we see strength. David didn't win because he defied the odds — he won because he understood the odds better. Goliath was heavy and slow. David was agile and precise. What looked like weakness — being small, being quiet, being underestimated — was actually an edge. The same can be said for leadership. What we dismiss as passivity might actually be perspective. What we see as indecision might be reflection. Being quiet doesn't mean you're unsure. It often means you're thinking. Planning. Choosing your words carefully. That kind of leadership — the kind that listens more than it talks — is desperately needed today. Some cultures understand this better than others. In Japan, there's a deep cultural appreciation for ma — the space between things. It's found in music, in design, in conversation. Silence isn't awkward; it's respectful. Pauses carry meaning. What is not said can be just as powerful as what is. Speaking less doesn't mean knowing less — it often means knowing when to speak. Imagine how different our institutions, classrooms, and boardrooms would be if we respected that principle more. If we didn't equate noise with knowledge. If we made space for quiet leadership to rise. I see this often in my students and colleagues. The ones who speak softly but think deeply. The ones who hesitate before answering, not because they're unsure, but because they're weighing their words. I make a point to notice them. To encourage them. Because I know what it feels like to be overlooked simply because you're not loud. And I know what it feels like to carry weight silently. So, if you've ever felt like you don't fit the mould of a 'typical' leader — if you're the one who stays in the background, who observes more than you interrupt, who writes rather than performs — I want to tell you this: you don't need to raise your voice to raise the bar. You don't have to be loud to lead. You don't have to be the centre of attention to make a difference. Let your work speak. Let your presence speak. And when it's your time to speak, make sure it matters. Because not all leaders shout. Some listen first. Some build from the edges. Some lead with calm, with care, with quiet consistency. And in the end, when the noise fades, it's often their impact that lasts the longest. * Ir Nahrizul Adib Kadri is a professor of biomedical engineering at the Faculty of Engineering, and the Principal of Ibnu Sina Residential College, Universiti Adib Kadri is a professor of biomedical engineering at the Faculty of Engineering, and the Principal of Ibnu Sina Residential College, Universiti Adib Kadri is a professor of biomedical engineering at the Faculty of Engineering, and the principal of Ibnu Sina Residential College, Universiti Malaya. He may be reached at [email protected] ** This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail.
The Guardian
3 days ago
- Business
- The Guardian
Trump administration closes state department's office of analytic outreach
A state department intelligence program that linked government analysts with outside experts has been quietly closed, part of the latest chapter of Donald Trump's disengagement with the broader academic and research community. The office of analytic outreach, part of the department's bureau of intelligence and research, held its final event on 22 May before closing permanently, according to an internal email seen by the Guardian, as part of Marco Rubio's sweeping reorganization that will cut 15% of domestic staff and shutter 132 of the department's 734 offices and bureaus. 'I am devastated we are not allowed to continue,' program officer Greg Otey wrote in the email. 'We have experienced staggering growth in demand over the last few years with events now regularly drawing audiences of over 200 analysts and policymakers from across the federal government.' Sign up to This Week in Trumpland A deep dive into the policies, controversies and oddities surrounding the Trump administration after newsletter promotion The closure comes as the Trump administration targets programs it claims do not align with presidential priorities or that 'represent radical causes'. The shutdown eliminates another mechanism to enlist external expertise into government analysis, with the program serving as the intelligence community's lead for connecting government leaders with academic experts, thinktanks and research institutions on foreign policy. It organized briefings for newly confirmed ambassadors and arranged analytic exchanges designed to inform executive branch policymakers. The shuttering of the program also reflects broader tensions within the Trump administration over the role of outside expertise in government decision-making. The US health secretary, Robert F Kennedy Jr, threatened on Tuesday to ban government scientists from publishing in leading medical journals, calling the Lancet, the New England Journal of Medicine and Jama 'corrupt' and pledging to create state-run alternatives instead. The state department did not respond to a request for comment.
Al Jazeera
6 days ago
- Politics
- Al Jazeera
US and Iran 'do not want' nuclear talks 'to collapse'
Hamed Mousavi, an assistant professor at the University of Tehran, says many critical issues must be resolved before the US-Iran nuclear talks can achieve a definitive outcome.
The Guardian
23-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
John Fletcher obituary
My father, John Fletcher, who has died aged 87, was an academic and literary critic best known for his work on Samuel Beckett. He helped demystify the Irish playwright to generations of scholars with A Student's Guide to the Plays of Samuel Beckett, which he co-wrote with his wife and literary collaborator, my mother, Beryl. John discovered Beckett as an undergraduate, after his brother gave him a copy of his novel Molloy. John found it heavy going at first but persevered and ultimately decided to study Beckett for his master's thesis at Toulouse University. His studies moved him closer to Beckett's orbit in Paris and an opportunity to meet the playwright came in 1960, when the wife of a theatre director who had staged Waiting for Godot for the first time in France offered to introduce him. Beckett invited John to his flat on the understanding that 'I can't discuss my work, and I never do …' and got on so well with him that at the end of the meeting Beckett lent him a typescript of his first novel, Dream of Fair to Middling Women. It was the start of a long friendship and correspondence lasting until Beckett's death. John collaborated with Raymond Federman to produce the first Beckett bibliography, Samuel Beckett: His Works and His Critics (1970), which became a landmark in Beckett studies. John was born in Barking, Essex (now east London), to Roy Fletcher, who worked at the Ford plant in Dagenham, and Eileen (nee Beane), who had been a telephonist before marriage. When Roy, who had been a technical civil servant in the Aeronautical Inspection Directorate during the second world war, was seconded to the Control Commission for Germany in 1945, John boarded at King Alfred school, in Plön, in Schleswig-Holstein. After the family returned to Roy's home town of Yeovil, John attended the grammar school there. He won an exhibition to Trinity Hall, Cambridge, where he graduated in languages and philosophy in 1959. He had fallen in love with France as a sixth former, and returned there to do a master's and doctorate (written in French) at Toulouse. It was there that he met Beryl, who was studying in Montpellier on a year abroad, and they married in 1961. They stayed in France while John completed his PhD, then returned to the UK in 1964 for him to take up a lectureship at Durham University. In 1966 he moved to the newly founded University of East Anglia as a senior lecturer and soon after professor, where he established the French department and worked until early retirement in 1998, when he and Beryl moved to Canterbury, Kent. From the mid-1980s, John and Beryl had started doing literary translation work together. Their translation of The Georgics, by Claude Simon, won the 1990 Scott Moncrieff prize. In retirement, John continued to work on translations, his last major work being Voltaire: A Pocket Philosophical Dictionary, which he translated for an Oxford World's Classics edition (2011). Beryl died in 2021. John is survived by two sons, Edmund and me, a daughter, Harriet, and six grandchildren.
The Guardian
17-05-2025
- Health
- The Guardian
Could a ‘digital diet' help me fix my bad phone habits?
Can you count the number of times you've looked at your phone today? Or how often you've opened it to do one thing to find yourself doing something else entirely? If you're anything like me, you'll have little idea – merely an inkling – that it's more times than you'd hope. Smartphone algorithms are designed to capture our attention and hold it, but a new book written by an academic who studies them promises to help people take back control. I spent a week putting some of her suggestions to the test. A first step towards breaking any addiction is acknowledging you have one and understanding its nature. In her book, Smartphone Nation, Dr Kaitlyn Regehr suggests keeping a 'phone fed journal' for a few days, noting what you opened your phone to do, where you ended up, how long you spent there, and how the session made you feel. Trying to keep track of the minutes I'm spending on phone-based diversions proves tricky, as I'm often unaware I'm even being diverted. With practice though, I think I'm beginning to notice this more quickly, and it's apparent that my problematic phone use falls into two general categories. The first, which I've named 'deliberate procrastination', happens when I've got a mentally taxing task ahead of me, and I don't want to do it, so I check my apps for updates instead. According to my diary, I am a master task-avoider, particularly when tired. Or perhaps I'm just saddled with too many mentally taxing tasks. But since I appear more prone to procrastinating in the mornings, it strikes me that a quick fix could be moving more challenging tasks to later in the day, when I'm more awake. The second and more worrying habit I've identified, I've christened the 'oblivion vortex': where I open my phone to do something, only to come round goodness knows how many minutes later, to find myself watching some random video, with no idea how I got there. Reader: beware the treacherous 30 minutes after waking! Last Tuesday, while intending to prepare school snacks and rally teenagers out of the door, I emerged from the vortex to find the beauty entrepreneur Trinny Woodall telling me about a recent trip to the hairdresser to get her highlights done. According to Regehr, an associate professor of digital humanities at University College London, this is classic algorithm skulduggery. 'This technology wants to seamlessly move you off one task and on to another application, then hold you there for as long as possible. That's what advertisers are paying for: your attention. However, what's great is that this week, you became aware that it is happening.' Mindless scrolling isn't always harmful, Regehr adds. 'Sometimes we need a break,' though she encourages reflecting on how that content makes you feel. I admit that some of my feeds leave me feeling inadequate or that I'm missing out – while they're littered with ads for intermittent fasting and eye creams, clearly tailored to my age and search habits. Regehr suggests unfollowing individuals or brands that no longer inspire or educate me, and narrowing in on things that do. 'You might decide: 'I do want that soothing scroll, but I'd like to be more active about what I fill that break with.' You don't just have to take what algorithms feed you.' It's sage advice, but that digital spring clean will have to wait until I'm less busy. For now, I try another of her tips: switching my phone to greyscale by removing colour via the accessibility settings. Dr Alex Taylor, a lecturer in marketing at Newcastle Business School in Australia who studies smartphone distraction, supports this: 'One of the most obvious reasons smartphones compete for our attention is the level of stimulation they provide. Minimising this by limiting exposure to high fidelity imagery is a good step.' Indeed, without the usual candy-coloured icons winking seductively at me from my screen, I struggle to find apps. The pull is lessened – out of sight really does mean out of mind. Still, when I actually need to use my phone, the palette makes navigation frustrating. It's a useful, if imperfect, deterrent. Despite efforts to monitor my smartphone use, I also suspect I'm only capturing a fraction of the distractions I experience. Sign up to TechScape A weekly dive in to how technology is shaping our lives after newsletter promotion Dr Maxi Heitmayer, a human-computer interaction researcher at the London School of Economics, shares this view. In one study, he equipped 41 participants with wearable cameras to observe when they checked their phones without unlocking them. These quick checks, though seemingly minor, are disruptive nonetheless. 'We found that whenever there's this little break in an activity – it could be turning the page of a book, or you're done cutting the tomatoes and now you need to chop the onions – that's when the phone comes in,' Heitmayer says. Breaking this pattern isn't simple. In a more recent study, Heitmayer found that moving phones out of reach did reduce use – but often led people to shift their distractions to desktop screens instead. He suggests leaving my phone in a different room, and noting each time I think about checking it. The answer is frequently – to check for messages, Google random thoughts, or open apps out of sheer habit. And our phones are undeniably useful. On the second day of stashing my phone upstairs, I miss a call from my daughter's school about her lunch account. When I finally receive this message, I immediately open an app and deposit some money – though I get so irritated by the greyscale that I turn it off. Even so, my digital detox has made me more mindful of how I interact with my smartphone. Since starting my diary, I've found myself sucked into the oblivion vortex less frequently, and though I'm still guilty of procrastination, I aspire to fill these deliberate breaks with apps and feeds that bring me joy. Still, this mini digital detox has made me more aware of how I use my phone and I'm starting to swap aimless browsing with more intentional use – choosing apps that spark joy rather than just steal time. Regehr and her team have proposed a hierarchical approach to digital engagement, similar to a healthy eating pyramid: nutritious habits at the base, indulgent treats at the top. For her, a scroll through second-hand clothing app Vinted is the digital equivalent of a cupcake. I'm not perfect, but I'm learning to reshape my phone habits – and yes, the occasional Trinny Woodall video is allowed, so long as I've chosen to watch it. Building a healthier relationship with your smartphone doesn't necessarily mean going cold turkey or tossing your device into a drawer. Instead, it's about subtle shifts that return a sense of control. Dr Kaitlyn Regehr suggests the following strategies: Set app limits for your most-used platforms – not just mentally, but through your phone's settings. Reclaim your attention by asking: Who do I really want to hear from? Then silence the rest. Turn off unnecessary push notifications, and consider assigning different ringtones to different contacts. Temptation can also be engineered away by moving social media apps off your main screen – or deleting them entirely, so you can only access them via a browser. Try greyscaling your phone: Without vibrant colours tugging at your attention, you might find that the allure of Instagram or TikTok fades a little. Reduce targeted advertising by using different browsers for shopping and chatting, or turn on incognito mode to avoid cookie tracking. Create real-world boundaries by setting screen-free zones and times, such as a no-phones-at-the-table rule, or a digital curfew before bed. Smartphone Nation by Kaitlyn Regehr (Pan Macmillan, £22). To support the Guardian, order your copy at Delivery charges may apply
