Can Miss Universe Singapore's expanded criteria make it a more inclusive pageant?

Last week, Miss Universe Singapore announced that all Singapore women aged 18 and above – including women who are married, divorced and/or who have children – would be eligible for the pageant this year, in a bid to broaden its selection criteria. 

Previously, applicants had to be between 18 and 28 years old, and they could not be married or have had a marriage annulled. 

The news is the latest change in line with the Miss Universe Organization’s  attempts to move away from what was deemed to be the narrow and unrealistic beauty standards commonly associated with pageants. In 2023, for example, Miss Nepal became the first plus-sized woman to finish in the top 20 of the competition, while Miss Pakistan wore a burkini for the swimsuit segment. 

Miss Universe has also tried shifting its focus to inner beauty, positioning itself as a platform for young women to empower and inspire others. A press release by Miss Universe Singapore stated that the pageant, “now redefined, seeks entrants who are not only physically beautiful but also driven by ambition, intellect, and a passion for addressing serious social issues”.

The new national director for Miss Universe Singapore, Elaine Daly, also said about this year’s pageant: “This competition is more than just a crown; it’s a platform to inspire and advocate for causes close to your heart.” 

But colour me sceptical. The expansion of criteria “to keep the pageant inclusive”, according to the press release, feels like little more than lip service.

SHOULD WE JUST GET RID OF PAGEANTS?  

To be clear, I don’t believe having a greater diversity of contestants who may not fit the conventional pageant mould will ensure that the revised version of Miss Universe Singapore is more than a checkbox exercise.

Anyone who has felt discriminated against due to visible traits, from disability to ethnicity, knows that diversity doesn’t always mean inclusivity. The former sees that you get access to spaces you’re usually excluded from; the latter ensures your perspective is valued and integrated in that space. 

Openly transgender, lesbian and bisexual women representing other countries have made it to Miss Universe in the past, although none have won. Plus, the rule that allowed mothers, married, or pregnant women to compete had already been instituted by the Miss Universe Organization last year, with Miss Colombia 2023 being the first mother to compete. 

So while Miss Universe Singapore’s new criteria may result in more diverse contestants, I don’t believe we should expect a truly inclusive idea of beauty on every level.

Perhaps a more radical solution would be to do away with pageants entirely - the less-than-desirable effects that appearance-based competitions have on young women, from their self-esteem to mental health, is well-documented.

BEAUTY AS VIRTUE 

That said, there’s no denying that being considered pleasing to the eye can make life much easier. Likewise, simply being part of an acclaimed pageant, even at a national level, can be a stepping stone for women to further other ambitions. 

For example, popular local actress Rebecca Lim, who placed in the top five of Miss Universe Singapore 2005, credited the pageant for “opening the door to stardom”, the press release stated. 

And before former Nominated Member of Parliament (NMP) Eunice Olsen, who championed issues about youth and volunteerism, was appointed in 2004, she’d gained substantial public recognition and support through her TV hosting and winning Miss Universe Singapore 2000. 

So, pageant advocates might argue the competition is another avenue for women to achieve their goals. And in fact, using appearance to one’s advantage is just about being resourceful. After all, both good-looking men and women do this in reality.

A pageant simply acknowledges this power, better known as pretty privilege – the economic, social and political benefits that someone enjoys solely based on their outward appearance. 

Miss Universe contestants could be just as passionate about social advocacy as those who don’t make the cut, but the former gets to use the prestigious platform for their cause because they’ve won the genetic lottery.

As such, the criteria could be diverse, and the definition of attractiveness may have evolved over time to include more than physical features, like a woman’s poise and conversational eloquence, or her heart for social issues. But contestants are ultimately still expected to fit a certain mould because their appearance is an integral part of winning. Otherwise, there would be no difference between a pageant and, say, a scholarship application process.

EXPANDED CRITERIA JUST LIP SERVICE? 

In fact, a video originally leaked in February to Vox by a former Miss Universe employee captured the organisation's co-owner Anne Jakkaphong Jakrajutatip calling the expanded criteria a “communication strategy”. 

Explaining the plan to allow “trans women, women with husbands, divorced women” to take part in Miss Universe, as well as the “changed age limit”, Jakrajutatip told the boardroom, “They can compete but they cannot win. We just put the policy out there. Social inclusion, as people would say.”

It’s also clear from Miss Universe Singapore’s online registration form that the pageant still prioritises certain physical attributes, even if they’re not explicitly emphasised. 

For one, applicants this year are now required to meet a minimum height requirement of 1.68m, as dictated by the Miss Universe Organization.

Further down the form, applicants are asked for their physical attributes, including weight and height, as well as bust, waist and hip measurements. Notably, the form states that these numbers are not taken into selection consideration, but simply “so we can get moving on outfit allocations and show running orders if you are confirmed as a finalist”.  

The caveat feels somewhat tone deaf, not least because applicants are also required to submit a “natural” headshot image, a half-body image, and a full-length image of themselves “in denim shorts or skirt, a plain singlet and heels”. 

And judges are only human after all. It’s disingenuous to imply that the first step of the selection process for a renowned pageant would be free from the inherent bias attached to physical traits. 

So, I’m unconvinced that the latest expansion of criteria is meaningful.

The change to include women above 18 of any age, marital and motherhood status is palatable and convenient to implement, yet different enough from an outdated norm that it’s deemed progressive.  

Some would argue that this “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” line of thinking minimises well-intended efforts to be more inclusive, and that some change is better than nothing. 

But the way I see it, the problem with accepting the bare minimum is that it often becomes the maximum you’ll be offered.