Liverpool & Football

Take a bow Luis Suarez

I first laid eyes on him at South Africa 2010. He was playing for Uruguay. He wasn’t much of a physical presence, given his average height and built, but he had this magical ability to whizz past defenders. Combined with his wondrous touch on the ball and the most immaculate finishing ability I had ever seen, I was a little surprised that I had never heard of him before.

Then again, I wasn’t paying much attention to football in the year 2010. Liverpool wasn’t doing well in the league, having just finished seventh. Benitez had been given the sack and the club appeared to be on a downward spiral. I also happened to be busy with a humanitarian project, one that required me to spend the bulk of the World Cup tournament in Cambodia. Apart from that I was due to graduate from school, and was in desperate need of a good-paying job.

So although Luis Suarez wowed me the first time I saw him, putting in a tremendous shift against the South Koreans, I never really gave him much thought. I saw him again when he put an arm up to deny Ghana a spot in the semis, sacrificing himself so that his country could have a glimmer of hope for progress. In the end Uruguay finished fourth, a worthy achievement by their standards.

But when he signed for Liverpool six months later, I was quietly pleased. Yes there were naysayers who said he and Andy Carroll would never match the quality of the departed Fernando Torres, but I believed they both had much potential. Though things never really worked out for Carroll, I don’t think anybody can say that there has been a better player in England this past season than Suarez.

But like all geniuses who ply their trade in the beautiful game, like all the Cantonas and Zidanes of the modern footballing era, he has his manic episodes. His first instinct is to fight, to survive. He has a ruthlessness about him, absent in most his peers, forged from the cauldron that was his tough childhood. He remembers there was always never much to eat (cue jokes about bite on Ivanovic), Mum struggling to make ends meet to feed her seven boys, left to fend for themselves when Dad had had enough.

The making of a legend.

For all of his brilliance, he has had far too many brushes with the law. He’s bitten, kicked, racially insulted, dived, stamped, punched, bitten again. The watching world judges, prejudges, and says the game needs to be purified from elements like Suarez. The man is unstable. A loose cannon. A radical. A deviant.

Graeme Souness, who perhaps broke more shins with his studs-up tackles than the rest of Liverpool combined, deplores Suarez’s bite on Bratislav, saying he’s already in the last-chance saloon as a Liverpool player, with his numerous indiscretions. If Suarez doesn’t tow the line as a Liverpool player, he’ll be shipped out, Souness says. The same Suarez who’s top scorer at the Merseyside club by a mile.

Even British Prime Minister David Cameron is weighing in on the drama that unfolded at Anfield, calling Suarez an “appalling” example to children who watch the game. Because obviously our footballers are expected to subscribe to the highest ideals and become shining beacons of light for global youth. That means you Ryan Giggs, filthy adulterer.

Me? I’m just enjoying every minute I get to watch Luis dance on the ball. He brings the game to life in a way few others can, Pool’s six-nil trashing of Newcastle notwithstanding. As he sits out his ten-game ban, he surely will reflect on his future at the club and England, where he is very clearly becoming the anti-hero the media loves to hate.

With the legend-killers of Munich calling, something tells me Suarez will not have to reflect much longer.

Life

The (Singaporean) Motorcycle Diaries

Given how our public transport system has deteriorated in recent years, I bought myself a motorcycle in August 2012.

Ain’t nobody got time for that!

It’s great when you don’t have to depend on a straining public transport system to get you from Point A to B. Nevertheless, it’s not always a great choice. Drivers in Singapore are notoriously inconsiderate and reckless and even if they aren’t there’s always the tropical weather to contend with.

About three weeks ago, in the midst of one of the worst storms to hit Singapore, my bike skidded and I fell on the expressway. Lane 1, AYE. Not many people walk away from accidents like that. Most people get run over by the car or truck behind them, barreling at 100 km/h.

Luckily for me, the car behind me didn’t. It braked in time, and stopped about 2 meters from the spot where I fell. As I sat on the asphalt, the rain forming puddles around me, I wondered who would play the part of good Samaritan. It all felt a little surreal and ethereal, the whole fall and me just sitting there, slightly pinned under my bike, big drops of water causing my hot engine to spew clouds of white smoke.

Nobody did help in the end. They all just drove past, the sleek wheels of their cars rolling inches from where I fell. I imagine they must have been pretty livid at the clown who decided to fall on lane 1, wasting the precious minutes of fellow road users. I picked myself up, and found enough strength to lift all 140 kilos of the bike onto its wheels. Thankfully, it did not sustain any serious damage and I could ride off. I found somewhere to dry off and rest before continuing my journey home.

I guess for many non-riders, the experience I’ve just recounted must seem like as good a reason as any to stop riding. But skidding and falling is pretty normal to most riders, especially in a country with an annual precipitation of 90 inches. It’s not exactly something we boast about, although falling and getting up again does help overcome some of the fears associated with riding.

In any case, I think riding a motorbike is an immensely pleasurable experience. Given the right weather, the right amount of traffic, the right roads, and the right bike, straddling a two-wheeler that eats up the miles beneath your feet can be very therapeutic. Despite having fallen on the AYE, I still think it’s one of the nicest expressways to cruise on. Its lined with big trees which provide ample shade from the sun, and it doesn’t seem to be as crowded as other expressways, like the PIE or CTE.

I don’t really like Lee Kuan Yew, but I admire his dedication to keeping Singapore a green city when he took charge of the country all those years ago. In a memoir, Lee said that the well-tended trees in the city would signal to investors Singapore’s commitment to maintenance and order. Okay, so he wasn’t exactly a tree-hugging liberal.

The Ayer Rajah Expressway

I also like travelling on roads which evoke a certain rustic charm, like Mandai, Kranji and Seletar. I guess when you spend far too much time in staid urban-concrete environments, you cherish places with a unique blend of nature and history: old big trees shielding equally old colonial-style buildings. It’s a bonus if you can find a sarabat stall in the vicinity. I usually just park my motorbike on a pavement somewhere, then sip some frothy teh tarek at the stall, while observing the stillness around me. Life’s simple pleasures.

Having your own transport also helps uncover places you wouldn’t typically find when travelling on public transport, places that seem to be from an era long gone, stubbornly holding onto existence in a country with an irritating enthusiasm for whitewashing away its physical past. Or perhaps they simply slipped off the grid, forgotten and neglected by busy Singaporeans more interested in shopping and eating.

I remember riding to Masjid Hang Jebat, a mosque located along a slip road off Portsdown Avenue, and admiring how kampung it felt. Its entrance was just a few feet from the KTM train tracks, and I recall seeing a train speeding past in the darkness of dusk, shortly after the congregation had completed the Maghrib prayers.

Or Masjid Omar Salmah, atop Mt Pleasant, next to the National Equestrian Park. I’ll never forget seeing this middle-aged Caucasian lady grooming her horse beneath this big tree outside the mosque.

I’m sure older Singaporeans also have their favourite spots on this island we call home, the ones that help them reminisce of a simpler, more innocent time. A hawker centre, a library, a cinema, a place of worship, an open space. Of course, such nostalgia count for little in the big scheme of things, in our drive to continue being number one in everything.

I sometimes ride around and see a new condominium or shopping mall being built, and I try my best to recall what was there before, but my memory comes up empty. It’s strange and frustrating because having lived here for so long I must have at least an image of that building in my mind’s memory bank, but I can’t retrieve it. It’s like the government is doing an Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind on me.

Eternal-Sunshine-of-the-Spotless-Mind-eternal-sunshine-4401173-1024-576

That’s funny. I could have sworn there was a library here.

With plans to roll out more train stations to meet the increasing ridership here, it’s probably not far-fetched to suggest that my favourite places will be irrevocably changed as well. Both Masjid Omar Salmah and Masjid Hang Jebat sit on prime real estate, which will further increase in value with the opening of future stations. Already Masjid Kampong Holland is facing imminent closure.

I was having a meal with my wife at the new Geylang Serai market recently. From where I sat, I could see the last vestiges of the Malay Village being torn down by Caterpillar tractors, perhaps the same models used to bulldoze Palestinian homes in Gaza and the West Bank.

I looked at the buildings along the stretch of Geylang. Joo Chiat Complex, where I got lost as a five-year-old after a shopping trip with Mummy. The Galaxy, where Darul Arqam is housed, a refuge for Muslim converts. Further down, the Haig Road hawker centre and the Tanjong Katong Complex, now popular meeting spots for Indonesian maids on their off days.

I guess when you live in Singapore, you begin to appreciate these little eccentricities that have been allowed to remain, especially if they help you to remember your roots. At least, until they have to make way for another condo.

Singapore Politics

Singapore 2030

There’s been plenty of debate in Parliament recently on the population white paper released by the government, which projects the number of people in Singapore to range between 6.5 and 6.9 million in the year 2030. Naturally, many ordinary Singaporeans are opposed to the idea, given the space constraints they face in their daily lives.

To fully understand the rationale of this ‘controlled’ population surge via immigration (the population now stands at roughly 5.2 million), we need to firstly know two things.

One, in the aftermath of World War II, people began to have more children, buoyed by the industrial expansion of the West, and a pervasive sense that peace was now at hand. The kids born in these post-apocalyptic years, generally accepted as between 1946 and 1964, are deemed baby boomers. Fearing a strain of Singapore’s resources, our nation’s policymakers attempted a curb of the population, with the infamous “Stop at Two” campaign which began in the late sixties.

Despite these measures to curtail birth rates, this deluge of babies brought economic benefits in the 70s and 80s. Their entry into the labour force, and subsequent maturity as professionals, led to massive industrial expansion here. Such a rise is almost always inevitable, when you have truckloads of educated and disciplined men and women eager to make a living.

Two, we need to know and realise that the government of Singapore places economic growth as its top priority. It is unforgiving in its pro-business approach. We don’t have to accept it, but to think they are going to change worldviews overnight – or after a few National Conversation sessions – is exceedingly naive. They operate on the gospel that money is what makes the world go round.

Thou shall have no other purpose but to be economic cog in the spotless, gleaming and efficient machine that is Singapore Inc.

So it comes as no surprise really, in their earnest effort to keep the Singapore system in motion, that the white paper has made the projections it has. The gradual retirement of Singaporean baby boomers will need new workers as replacements. Who will keep the machines running? Who will control traffic at the airports? Who will move cargo at the ports?

As such, the cries of the common man on the street, suffering from the ill effects of high immigration levels are recklessly brushed away. After all, to the people who rule this country, you and I are nothing more than workers, consumers and taxpayers. Economic digits. Our shared identity lies in our common love for the empty things money buys us. Pragmatism and meritocracy are the tools with which we accelerate towards more and more economic progress, environmental preservation and equality and spirituality be damned.

Our presence feeds into the bubble that continues to inflate from an increasing demand for goods and services, increased borrowing, increased tax revenue. Pockets are filled. Everybody’s happy. The ruling party remains in power.

But for how long? How long before the bubble bursts?

Proponents of the white paper have argued that the measures to be implemented, while painful, are necessary for the sake of future Singaporeans. They mention that as people grow older, they need greater care, which would entail higher costs. These costs will place a greater tax burden on future workers. Bringing in more immigrants now would help in spreading some of these costs.

Secondly, an ageing country is hardly the sort of place an MNC would want to set up or continue operating its business in. In the cutthroat, fast-paced world of commerce, old people don’t exactly make ideal workers. A country sorely lacking in fresh talent is one that is looked over by the world’s investors. Unless we want our children to work at low-skilled jobs, or worse be unemployed, we need to continue convincing the world that Singapore has more than enough highly-skilled labour to meet the manpower needs of whoever decides to set up shop here.

The first point is laughable, because the majority of retiring Singaporeans have saved up more than enough in their CPF accounts (or downgraded to meet the CPF minimum sum), and are automatically included in either the country’s annuity or minimum sum scheme. It’s safe to say that the monthly payout they will be receiving upon reaching 65 years of age would have been from the sweat off their brow.

The ones who have zilch in their CPF (perhaps because they worked at jobs that didn’t pay CPF or they were homemakers) will simply have to collect pieces of cardboard and empty cans, or sue their kids into giving them money. The government provides next to nothing.

The second point makes several assumptions: that foreigners will continue to want to come here in the face of rising xenophobia and a straining of infrastructure, that MNCs will continue to stay as rents and wages move skyward, that Singaporeans are willing to accept the government’s plans for better-paying jobs. Cynics say that these better-paying jobs end up in the hands of foreigners anyway, with expat hiring managers in these locally-based companies more willing to hire a fellow countryman instead of a Singaporean.

In any case the noise on the ground means little. The government appears to have lost touch with the man on the street, and even if they haven’t, are simply too ingrained in their current ideology of more and more growth.

Instead of growing the economy by encouraging innovation and entrepreneurship, and restricting foreign labour so as to force companies to focus more on productivity, they continue to take the easier route, growing GDP by means of bringing in more people into this already crammed island. One only wonders if they’ll still be kept in power to see their plans through to completion.

Singapore Politics

Business as usual, PAP-style

Welcome, one and all, to the year 2013. New beginnings? Not quite. That old French saying, plus ça change, plus c’est pareil, the more things change, the more they stay the same. Ah, the French knew, they knew, didn’t they?

If you’ve been living under the proverbial rock, let me attempt to summarise the AIM-AHTC saga in a single paragraph.

14 town councils develop a software which they sell to Action Information Management (AIM) for $140k through a questionable tender process, then lease it back at $785 per month per town council. This was in 2010. In 2011, shortly after the Worker’s Party’s historic victory in Aljunied, AIM terminates its contract with Aljunied-Hougang Town Council (AHTC). Oh, and by the way, AIM just happens to be a PAP-owned company with a paid-up capital of $2 and practically no track record.

I don’t know what makes me angrier – the fact that the ruling government see practically nothing wrong in giving a job, and public assets developed with public funds, to a private, partisan body, or the fact that the leader of this ruling government thinks its necessary to set his legal hounds on the likes of Alex Au, working tirelessly to ask important questions of those we entrust with public office.

All the talk of engaging people, of gathering diverse views. All the forays into social media to connect with the man on the street. The National Conversation. Hope, heart, home, Minister sir? Perhaps, home sweet home for your buddies, highly-paid capitalist clowns sifting through our hard-earned money.

Perhaps, they worry for their future earnings and stranglehold on power, they fear 2016, or that by-election in Punggol around the corner. Perhaps, we have become too noisy, too nosey. Perhaps, we need to be reminded. Of those suits from Drew & Napier or Allen & Gledhill, lurking behind every corner, ready to decimate any opposition, local or foreign.

Ready to do his master’s bidding

Perhaps they realise the system they’ve worked so hard to build is in danger of unraveling itself. A system that depends on continually portraying an image of superiority in politics, while keeping the true nature of its inherent bias away from the people’s prying eyes, cannot survive the scrutiny of the internet and social media. While all the online noise may not help in clearing the confusion, it certainly makes difficult this continued rhetoric of the PAP running a tight ship.

Essentially, this is what I want, as a citizen of this country. If you are clean, efficient and incorruptible, you SHOW me that you are clean, efficient and incorruptible, not drum it into my head every chance you get. You stand aside to allow for alternative journalistic opinions to develop, especially given that the country’s mainstream media are so overwhelmingly ready to parrot your views. You come clean when your constituents question you, on how many companies you own, for instance, especially if leads to a genuine conflict of interest.

You don’t fuck up the system by blurring the lines between political party and public institution. You don’t set up, especially not with the use of public money – grassroots organisations and town councils – that serve your party’s interests by proxy. Your party is not bigger than this country and it should never be too big to fail.

Still Hougang’s grassroots adviser.

Is it too much to ask, that we see a fair contest? Is it too much to ask that we be more than a country that is just one man’s vision, just one man’s version of right and wrong? Can we, as a people, ever be empowered to choose where we want this country to go, even if we are not the best or brightest?

In the silence that grows more and more deafening, as the government continues to evade the many questions this saga has thrown forth, perhaps the only answer the PAP wants us to know and accept is the one to the question; can we have a choice?

The answer, as long as they are in charge, is no.

- Ask yourself. Does any government help the opposition to displace itself? (Lee Kuan Yew, 2006)

Talking Points

What the MSM won’t tell you about the SMRT strike

It must seem like the end of days for SMRT’s management. For the uninitiated, in 2010 and 2011 the local public transport operator suffered security breaches at its depots, when vandals broke in to spray graffiti on its trains.

This was then followed by a series of train breakdowns, beginning in December 2011, affecting tens of thousands of rush hour commuters. The vandalism incident, and the breakdowns, earned SMRT instant notoriety, and a rebuke from the ruling government.

The stuff of SMRT’s nightmares.

Illegal Strike

Last week, the company was again in the headlines, this time over an “illegal strike” involving 171 PRC workers, all bus drivers. The drivers were protesting against their lower pay compared to Malaysian drivers, and the poor living conditions they had to put up with. The incident caught the watching public, including SMRT and the Ministry of Manpower, by surprise. It shouldn’t have. But more on that later.

It’s been 26 years since Singapore had its last strike, when 61 workers picketed outside American oilfield equipment company Hydril’s Tuas factory. The city-state has long had a reputation for industrial harmony, although any rank-and-file worker will very likely pour scorn at such a description.

In Singapore, its common to hear of the elite class traversing from corporate boardrooms to government bodies and back. Many members of parliament hold full-time jobs in multinational corporations, and are quick to subscribe to the ideals of free-market capitalism. Hence that constant refrain that we need cheap foreign labour, to stem the already high costs of doing business.

The NTUC-PAP-Employer combo

The rest (Lim Swee Say, Halimah Yacob, Zainal Sapari, et al) take up leadership positions in the National Trades Union Congress, the country’s biggest trade union, and one that has had a symbiotic relationship with the People’s Action Party since the early years of our nation’s independence. 98% of all unionised workers in Singapore belong to the NTUC. This tripartite relationship, a cornerstone of the Singapore economy, is a key advantage for a country that has no natural resources. Or so they tell us. In the words of NTUC, a strong, responsible and caring labour movement helps Singapore remain competitive and workers employable.

It’s not rocket science. If you have little qualifications, or you don’t have any connections to people in power, you really have no business demanding a fair wage for your indentured labour. Especially if you work for a transport company that already has a lot to worry about. Like how to continue earning fat profits while spending S$900 million to put in place an effective maintenance regime.

This is how tripartism works in Singapore. The average worker bending over backwards to meet the demands of his corporate and political masters. You’re not happy, are you? Well, you can very well find another job (or as SMRT’s drivers were told, you can resign and go to SBS).

It’s interesting to note that earlier this year, SMRT had increased the salaries of its drivers. However, with this increase in salary a driver’s work week was also lengthened, from 5 to 6 days per week. This would ultimately lead to a loss of overtime, and with it, a loss of income. It would also result in less rest for drivers, given the very possible, very unpleasant situation of having to work for 12 days straight (the one-day off could be given on any day of the week).

Cheaper. Better. Faster. 12 days in a row.

Petition

These changes were simply announced by SMRT’s management, without any negotiation with existing drivers. Subsequent petitions to Lim Swee Say, to reinstate a five-day work week, while keeping the increased salary, fell on deaf ears. In their petition the bus drivers highlighted that:

The move (salary increase) was a laudable one, no doubt motivated by consideration of management for the welfare of bus drivers, and to address competitive pressures in the bus industry in general.

What a naive bunch of sods.

I take that back. The job of a SMRT bus driver is an unenviable one. They work 9 to 11 hours a day, with only eight minutes of break time between rides. When road traffic conditions work against them that eight minute break can dwindle down to nothing. They have half an hour of meal time to last them that entire shift.

For the PRC drivers who went on strike, their long working hours are made all the more miserable by the abject conditions of their crammed accommodation. Drivers on different shifts were placed in the same room, making it difficult to get much-needed rest. Even SMRT conceded that they could have provided better housing for the drivers.

SMRT’s top management visiting the China drivers at their dorm

The drivers, whatever their nationality, really deserved more pay. Instead, what they got was more work, for less. They were cheated, plain and simple. Cheated by the recruiters who brought them into Singapore with the promise of a better life. Cheated by a corporation motivated by the bottom line.

At the centre of this petition brouhaha was failed PAP candidate Ong Ye Kung, the former secretary general of the NTUC and an independent director on SMRT’s board, tasked with the case of handling the unhappy workers. Conflict of interest? You bet. Ong resigned from NTUC barely two months after the petition was first written, though he denies his leaving being related to the whole saga. He remains on SMRT’s board.

The Aftermath

I admit. I have said some nasty things about PRC drivers. In retrospect, perhaps they are a group deserving pity. We live in a country unforgiving in its march to more and more economic growth. And in that march we have turned a blind eye to the depressing lives of the many foreign men and women who make this place a better place to live in. The ones who build our homes, sweep our streets and drive the buses and trains that move us from Point A to B.

The aftermath, for those on the sadder side of the income divide, isn’t pretty. 5 men will go to jail for their part in the strikes, for standing up in what they thought was right, even if the law didn’t think so. 29 others will be going back home to China, their dreams of a better existence shattered. The mainstream media (MSM) will have you believe that Singapore is better off without them, fiends out to tarnish the industrial harmony this country has worked so hard to build.

The remaining drivers? Let off with a stern warning, and no further increase in pay. Of course this was announced on Monday morning, a full week after the strikes first started and with the ringleaders swiftly arrested. Cue the Government’s nod of approval. Mr Lim Biow Chuan, member of the Government Parliamentary Committee for Transport puts it this way, “What the CEO has done is the right thing. From the perspective of the employee, if you feel that your salary is not right, you should actually speak to your employers about it. And if at the end of the day, employers are not prepared to increase the salary, you should then look for other employment.”

“I think it is also a wrong signal to send if the company adjusts its salary upwards because of actions by employees to force their opinion on their employer to make adjustments to the salary.” Tripartism. What a riot.

The systemic rotting of a company creaking under the weight of its responsibility continues. While the Government chooses to flog SMRT publicly for its lapses, in maintenance, security and HR, it knows that it also must share part of the blame. Its continued practice of bringing in foreign workers to feed the economy has strained our country’s public transport system. And in that strain SMRT selected the most cost-effective solution it could find to its manpower problem. A solution that ultimately backfired.

Happier days

Talking Points

Narcissus Alive & Well

Readers of Greek mythology would have been reminded of Narcissus this past week, the proud, beautiful man who fell in love with his own reflection, not realizing it was merely an image. He was so fixated on himself, he died.

From his name we coin the term narcissism, that personality disorder that afflicts those with an unhealthy self-focus, an inability to see things from another person’s perspective, an overwhelming desire to be known and admired, and a disliking for those who criticize or merely not like them.

Enter Alvin Tan and Vivian Lee, the Malaysian couple desperate for their fifteen minutes of fame, to the point of recording and uploading their sexual trysts online for all the world to see. I’d show their pictures here, but seeing how I’ve just changed my blog’s theme, I’d hate to have to ruin how wonderful it looks.

“We are focusing on leveraging on this for more lasting fame,” said Tan in an interview with Malaysian papers. Both he and Lee have had countless interview requests from the media. Judging from their answers to soldiers of the region’s gutter press he’s clearly the more narcissistic of the two, more willing to do whatever it takes to be famous. Vivian’s beef seems more with those who paint her as being morally reprehensible, a “why do you bother reading if you hate it so much” type of attitude.

The incident would probably not have sparked the furore it has, except that Alvin is an NUS Law student and ASEAN scholar. His education throughout secondary school, junior college and university has been funded by the Singapore Government (read: taxpayers’ money) in the hopes that foreigners like him will eventually take up Singapore citizenship.

In a country where countless local-born Singaporeans are denied entry to their own universities, or struggle with tuition fees, people like Alvin Tan become cannon fodder for a frustrated populace, especially by making comments like these:

My scholarship saved me $50,000 in tuition fees and $6,000 in living expenses yearly. I do not have to pay a single cent in Singapore.

When told he would have to return his scholarship money to NUS should he get expelled, Alvin said he would not pay a single cent to them. The boy sure knows how to whip up an angry mob.

In any case, his comments shed further light on his personality, which is unsurprisingly consistent with classic narcissistic behaviour. For one, he clearly has issues identifying how his actions have hurt and affected those around him. He seems to think he’s above the law, and that he can do whatever he wants and get away with it. It will be interesting to see how NUS deals with him. Punishing him might appeal to the current stakeholders at the university, although this may come at the expense of future enrolment, especially if kids these days are becoming more and more like Alvin. NUS doesn’t want to be seen as frigid, but they won’t like being see as lax when it comes to discipline either.

Furthermore, his actions illustrate a growing need to educate our young on the responsibilities associated with using the Internet. Posting stuff online, even on Facebook or Twitter, has the potential to incite hatred, to do more harm than good. Sure, freedom of expression is a good thing, and nobody likes being gagged, but a thoughtless comment can produce thoughtless reactions, an ultimately, a destabilised society. Freedom of expression would be a good thing, if not for the fact that common sense is not so common these days, and that many people, when you think about it, are really quite stupid and irrational.

But more importantly, our education system needs to be something more than just a means of empowering the individual. This idea that if you study hard, you will be rewarded well, while being the crux of meritocracy, creates legions of selfish, narcissistic people. The exam hall breeds people who care only for their own self-interest. It simmers contempt for those who fail and fall through the cracks. The average parent today will very likely get upset if his child flunks an exam, but won’t bat an eyelid if he or she skips a few hours of community service.

Unless and until this changes, we best prepare ourselves for more Alvin Tan-types.

Singapore Politics, Talking Points

Boosting the birth rate in Asia’s Sin City

In Lee Kuan Yew’s ideal world, this is the path Singaporeans are expected to follow. You push yourself hard in school, and depending on the intelligence you were born with you enter the working world with either a degree, diploma or a certificate in some trade skill.

You then work a few years and save up enough to get married to a fellow Singaporean of equal standing, perhaps before you hit thirty. Using the money in your CPF account you apply for a HDB flat that meets your budget, then start planning on having kids. Maybe two or three, again depending on how much money your job pays you. More if you can afford. Less if life hasn’t treated you quite so kindly.

Then you nurture your kids as best as you can, telling them the same story your mum or dad told you. Study hard, stay in school, get a good, stable job when you’re older. If you had studied till the O Levels, perhaps you’d expect better from your child. A diploma, maybe even a degree. When you have enough money you can settle down and get married. And so the path repeats itself.

Except that it doesn’t.

The rapid development of our country has led to a loss of tradition, the death of good old kampung values. Judging from the rise of abortion, teenage pregnancies and sexually-transmitted diseases, one could infer that remaining chaste till marriage is no longer regarded virtuous, except in conservative religious circles.

If one no longer needs to be married to enjoy regular sex, it should come as no surprise that this increase in premarital sex leads to a reduction in marriage. Of course there are also other factors. Careers are a lot more important now, because money is worshipped here. Why place your faith in God or fellow members of society when you can make enough money to never feel the need for others.

The proliferation of the Internet leads to individualism and narcissism. Marriage requires a certain level of sacrifice. You can’t love someone if you are too busy loving yourself, if you are not willing to give up a part of yourself to help in the process of letting someone be part of you.

When marriages do happen, that individualism, that fierce independent streak is hard to shake off. And so wives would rather work than depend on their husbands for money. Some of course do it out of fear, that their children will not be able to do well in school without tuition, that their husbands may turn their attention to other women. Cue the rise of Singapore’s tuition and beauty and wellness industry.

Some work to satisfy their long-held beliefs. That women should be treated no different from men. That anywhere a man can go a woman can too. That the home is not a place to spend one’s waking hours, especially for one endowed with a good university degree.

And so children and husbands are left to the devices of foreign women: maids and prostitutes; flooded into this tiny island to meet a growing demand for caregivers and “caregivers”.

And so the collapse begins. And LKY’s ideal world now looks a distant dream.

The Hayat Shah Chronicles

The Official Blog of Shahnawaz Abdul Hamid