opinion Yesterday, I bumped into a Malaysian friend - a Malay whom I have not seen since Hari Raya Aidil Fitri last year. Fiscally conservative, socially liberal, I more so than her, both of us shared quite a lot in common, apart from, of course, our nationality.

Having not seen each other in a while, we certainly had a lot of catching up to do. As one would expect, our banter slowly turned to things Malaysian, particularly politics, and that perennial figure, Dr M - criticising him these days has literally become a stylish activity, something that every young person in this part of the world does to indicate that he or she isn't outmoded or ill-informed.

In any event, with an admixture of apprehension and enthusiasm, I informed her that Mahathir had announced - finally - that he might be doing away with the unjust bumi student quota system for universities. To my surprise, she was almost nonchalant about it: "Oh, they should have done it 10 years ago anyway "

"What?! Is that all?" I was telling myself.

Unduly punish Malays

I mean, I cannot think about my life - the things I have done, the thoughts that have occupied my mind, the places I have gone to, the people I have met - without thinking about the, in my opinion, 'evil' quota system. Everything flows from that one single fact.

For me, its abolishment will be the best thing that could happen in Malaysia in a while; for her it was, well, just another piece of news strange, huh?

Since the announcement, there has been disappointingly little debate about the merits of the meritocracy, save for quite a number of knee-jerk responses. Left in the cold all these many years, merit, has suddenly found itself thrust into the limelight, seen now as a desirable value to promote.

The new system, where selection is "based on academic excellence" would, we are told, "push Malay students to be more concerned in achieving excellence in education". (Tan Sri Musa Mohamad: NST, July 30)

The critics of this new policy, however, have contended this would unduly punish the Malays, particularly those from poor backgrounds, who, as PAS youth leader, Mahfuz Omar argued, "will be unable to further their education and may be entangled in social problems".

Others have pointed out that students from rural settings seldom attend extra classes, and, therefore, they might not be ready to face the competition, yet.

There is certainly some truth in the critics' arguments; but it isn't merely limited to rural Malays. Any poor student, irrespective of his or her ethnic background, or even setting - rural or urban - will not fair well under a system that merely considers 'academic excellence'.

However, it is not for the reasons that critics cite - almost ad nauseam. Simply lowering standards and allowing anyone who in his or her birth certificate is branded as Malay (or bumiputra), isn't going to do justice neither to the Malay students, nor to Malaysians in general.

Lasting impact

The answer lies buried in the first three years of a child's physical and mental development. It is in these three critical years that brain cells - about 100 million at birth - are 'turned on', when old connections between those cells are strengthened and new ones formed.

These connections, which partly depend on genes and partly on daily experiences, give the brain the thinking power, and scientists have found that nothing is more important than early care and nurture.

Emphasising the importance of early child development, a Unicef report stated, "the human brain is malleable and that its capacity for reorganisation continues throughout life and can be enhanced by interventions.

"But there is wide consensus that during early childhood the brain is taking shape with a speed that will never be again equalled ... Early care and nurturing have a decisive and lasting impact on how children grow to adulthood and how they develop their ability to learn and their capacity to regulate their emotions." (The State of World's Children 2001, pg. 14)

It is, therefore, pointless to argue that ignoring meritocracy would somehow help the poor; by doing so, we may, in fact, fail to recognise their true achievement - despite their deprived background. And, as a result, we might never come to fix the 'problem' by addressing the true cause of underachievement.

Advocates of meritocracy are right to claim that competition improves performance, but they should not forget that that is only true only if the foundation had been laid properly. A student from a deprived environment is unlikely to be transformed into a 'A' student if he were to put in a competitive environment; he might simply crack!

When and where

At this juncture, what we need is a more comprehensive look at the problem of underachievement among the bumiputra and Indian-Malaysian students. We have to identify when and where students start slacking off.

Merely repeating old arguments ad nauseam without backing it with some empirical evidence is unlikely to shed light onto the debate; it may only roil the waters further.

In mean time, if we should consider a policy that recognises both need and merit - as advocated by Koh Tsu Koon of Gerakan - which can be implemented in a transparent manner. It is not merely rational, but also just and compassionate, and worthy of a nation that we aspire to be.

Will that be a reality? Err who knows? I'll try, however, to convince my friend over the weekend of its merits; hopefully, she'd be enthused a lot more about these recent developments.

ELANJELIAN VENUGOPAL is a research assistant at the Centre for Energy, Transportation and Public Policy, based in Columbia University, United States.