In The Godfather, we hear his voice before we see his face. The words he says encapsulate the entire meaning of the film, delivered with a poetic economy that is almost Zen-like. I’m not talking about Don Corleone, the film’s titular character, but Amerigo Bonasera, the undertaker and immigrant, the outsider made good. He says, “I believe in America. America has made my fortune.” And with that, he expresses the pure essence of James Truslow Adams’ essay “The American Dream,” in which he explains, “It is not a dream of motor cars and high wages merely, but a dream of social order in which each man and each woman shall be able to attain to the fullest stature of which they are innately capable, and be recognized by others for what they are, regardless of the fortuitous circumstances of birth or position.”

If I were to input into AI a film version of my life in the style of Francis Ford Coppola’s The Godfather, the lines I would speak would be, “I believe in watchmaking. Watchmaking has given me everything. It has given me my profession. It has given me my passion. It has given me my friendships. It has given me my community. Watchmaking has given me purpose.” And that is the essence of my life experience for the past quarter century. It’s true — with the one exception of finding the love of my life — watchmaking has given me everything and more. Which is why it is my mission to always champion, evangelize and protect the values of mechanical watchmaking to the best of my ability.

While the mediums through which my mission has been given purpose have evolved over the years, from print journalism and writing (which is, incidentally, my first love) to forums and those early years of online discourse, to video and social media content, to organizing symposiums and events, and now to Man of the Hour, the first episodic television series on horology, my intent has remained the same. And that is simply to uplift the craft I love so much — that unique cynosure where engineering meets artisanship, where science meets art, with a notinsubstantial dose of magic. In this, I am, and will always remain, unwavering and unfaltering.

If you had told me 26 years ago, when I wrote my first article as a watch journalist on Panerai — then an obscure military tool watch that’s since become a luxury brand — or if you had told me on April 7, 2005, when I hand-distributed the very first issue of Revolution from a roller bag throughout the bustling halls of Baselworld, that I would one day be President of the Jury of the Grand Prix d’Horlogerie de Genève, I would have told you, “You’re crazy.” How could a Singaporean, raised in New York, with a stint in the Singapore Army, a season as a ranch hand at the N-Bar in Montana, a graduate of film school in San Diego, and a former assistant to director Kathryn Bigelow, end up presiding over the most prestigious awards ceremony in Swiss watchmaking?

When I was given the news by Raymond Loretan and Carine Maillard of the GPHG — the acronym everyone in the industry uses ubiquitously — I almost fell out of my chair. After righting myself, I experienced what Marcel Proust would have described as a flood of involuntary memories that were at once powerful and deeply moving. I remember taking the train from Zurich to Basel (you couldn’t get a room there for years) with a medium-format camera in tow. I remember Vacheron Constantin’s 250th anniversary dinner in Geneva. I remember witnessing the birth of the Richard Mille brand and watching him throw his tourbillon to the ground to prove its shock resistance. I remember my slack-jawed wonderment stepping inside Rolex’s manufacture for the first time, as their then-PR director, Dominique Tadion, chuckled in amusement. I remember meeting François-Paul Journe for the first time in the home of the extraordinarily colorful Gabriel Tortella. I remember bumping into the visionary Philippe Stern as he smoked a cigarette outside his incredible Plan-les-Ouates manufacture. He would look at the stunning edifice behind him and explain to me, “My father was against me building this. He thought we should stay at [our] Geneva premises, but I wanted everything to be under one roof.”

I remember Angelo Bonati inviting me to breakfast in 2005, because while everyone else had gone on to party the night before, I had returned to the hotel to write a definitive story on his vision for in-house movements. I remember my first-ever fondue in Switzerland being with Denis Flageollet. It was on a press trip to discover independent watchmaking, hosted by Michael Tay of The Hour Glass in 2004. Rather than eat the pre-ordered meal, I had requested a fondue. Denis noticed and said, “In Switzerland, we don’t let our friends eat fondue alone. So I’ll eat fondue with you.” Which explains why I love fondue so much: partaking in one with you is a Swiss expression of friendship. And that is how I’ve felt every one of my 26 years in this industry — deeply rooted in a community of friendships so strong that we’ve become family to one another. Sure, like any family, we may from time to time disagree, or even get cross with one another. But in the end, what underlies our relationship is love and a commitment to the mutual beneficence of our family for today and for all that is perennial.

We’ve never forgotten the lesson the Quartz Crisis has taught us — that we must always be united in ensuring the preservation of our craft for the future. And the best way to achieve this is through constant creativity. The legend that is Jean-Frédéric Dufour said it best at the 2025 Dubai Watch Week keynote, which I had the honor of moderating, “For the long-term health of our industry, we need collaboration as we have here, but we also need healthy competition. Even the smallest brand can bring an important impulse of energy and creativity.” And that, my friends, is why I believe strongly in the necessity of the GPHG. Because it celebrates community and fosters healthy collaboration in the best way possible.

To say that being appointed as President of the GPHG Jury is profoundly moving and one of the greatest honors of my life would be a woefully inadequate understatement. For the moment, I would simply like to express my immense gratitude and respect for my predecessor, the amazing Nicholas Foulkes, who is also the recipient of Revolution’s 2025 Lifetime Achievement Award. Having served four years on the jury under Nick’s leadership, I have seen how he transformed the deliberation process into a wonderful forum for debate, characterized by open, transparent and honest sharing of perspectives. He will always be a major inspiration to me for his leadership.

For now, I’ll leave it at that. As a closing remark, I’d like to say, “I believe in watchmaking. Watchmaking has given me everything. It is my turn to give back.”