SINGAPORE – Singaporeans aged between 20 and 35 are still clueless about contraception, if the findings of a global survey are anything to go by.

The World Contraception Day 2011 survey – which was conducted online last month – was sponsored by Bayer Healthcare and supported by an alliance of 10 international organisations involved in sexual health, including the Asia Pacific Council of Contraception (APCOC).

Out of the 200 Singapore respondents, eight in 10 said they do not use any contraceptive method such as condoms when having sex with a new partner. Of these, about a quarter attributed this to their partner’s preference. The survey also found that 25 per cent of Singapore respondents believe in at least one contraception myth.

According to the survey, the most frequently cited misconception was that withdrawing the penis before ejaculation (34 per cent) is an effective method to prevent pregnancy. Other misconceptions about ways to prevent pregnancy which were cited were having a bath or shower after sex (6 per cent), “staying upside down for two hours” (3 per cent) and rinsing the genital area “with Coca-Cola” (3 per cent).

The study also found that among Singapore respondents, the Internet was the most common source of misinformation on contraception, followed by friends and religious leaders.

While the condom was found to be the most widely used contraceptive method, some 42 per cent of Singapore respondents said that they are not using any form of contraception during sex.

About 6 per cent of respondents said they are not aware of any contraception method – a finding which surprised Professor P C Wong, a senior consultant with the department of obstetrics and gynaecology at the National University Hospital.

Prof Wong, who is also a council member of the APCOC, pointed out that the level of public education here is good and contraception is also freely available.

He added: “It could then be individual lifestyle choices…or carefree attitudes which is worrisome.”

Noting that abortions among teenagers and the number of people contracting sexual transmitted diseases have been on the rise, Prof Wong said the survey indicated a greater need for accurate and reliable information on contraception.

He urged Singaporeans to seek advice from doctors, such as their family physicians, on the appropriate contraception methods.

-TODAYonline

I had once written an entire essay for GP arguing against a Sexuality Education programme which preaches abstinence. Honestly, the funny parts aside, the above findings should not come as a shock because it is indeed linked to our abstinence-only approach.

Under MOE policy, students from Secondary 3 onwards (a period when most youths are sexually active, whether conservatives admit it or not) are taught the (ironically-named) Breaking Down Barriers (BDB) SexEd programme, in which (emphasis mine):

Students are taught skills such as decision-making, assertiveness and negotiation to say no to sex and negative peer pressure. They also learn that the impact of STI/HIV extends beyond themselves and involves their family. Abstinence and upholding family values are the key messages.

Apart from having taken a clear moral stance, the approach is carefully crafted such that there is no ambiguity in the approach tutors should take. Which might be fine under other circumstances, except that human sexuality is not an unambiguous subject. In my years of formal education, I have not been taught the means of contraception. Instead, what I did learn in Science class was a very sterile explanation of various methods of contraception (the ‘what’) and not its use (the ‘how’). Even in Junior College, my tutor in charge of the Sex Ed programme could only unconvincingly impart to us the abstinence message without even teaching us the application of contraceptive methods. In fact, much of what I learned was from the Internet (and that’s where many get the amusing idea of coca-cola and upside-down gymnastics, among other nonsense), which I would even have difficulty doing so if not for the liberal attitude of my parents.

I do acknowledge that an abstinence-only Sex Ed has its merits. By themselves, abstinence messages seek to discourage teenagers from engaging in premarital (and maybe unprotected) sex that could give rise to pregnancies that present a horrible dilemma to totally unprepared parents; abort the child or bring it up in financially unstable conditions. Abortion can cause both teenagers, especially the female, to suffer emotional scars that would most likely never heal, while bringing up the baby is putting it through unfair economic hardship it did not ask for and bring about unnecessary stress to the young parents. There are also those who would argue that Sex Ed should reflect societal norms, and in this case, chastity and virginity as a base for strong and resilient matrimonial bliss.

That said, while in ideal situations such an approach might work, the world we live in is less than ideal. In fact, it is far from ideal. An abstinence-only Sex Ed makes a massive assumption in its belief in human self-control. It only works so long as students internalize the message and exercise self-control of their lives. The fact of the matter is that human nature is what it is. Teenagers are most likely to be sexually active, whether one likes it or not. To underestimate or suppress human sexuality is the very core condition for this assumption to fail. To be effective against a perceived problem (unwanted pregnancies), especially one that is a result of a fundamental part of human nature (youth sexuality), one does not solve it by pretending it does not exist. Instead, one fights it by giving people the weapons (contraceptive measures) to counter it. It is no use decrying such a view as cynical or underestimating human capacity for self-control; doing so only brings grief to more teenagers and their families by the year.

The article highlights an even more pressing concern. The overemphasis on abstinence prevents more important long-term concerns from being addressed by teenagers who would eventually become adults, such as protection, contraceptives or even the act of sexual intercourse itself. An excessively successfully abstinence-only Sex Ed programme would breed a generation of adults unaware of issues of sexuality. This creates problems when adults marry and would be at a loss of what are they supposed to do to conceive. Teen pregnancies notwithstanding, such a trend would exacerbate Singapore’s already-abysmal birth rates.

Advocates of abstinence-only Sex Ed would claim to leave such ‘education’ to the parents. This would only hold water as long as parents are willing to discuss such issues with their kids. Already, conservative parents are aggressively pushing for more conservative, almost puritanical, Sex Ed programmes, feeling that a very liberal syllabus might encourage sexual experimentation. It is highly unlikely that the very same parents are educating their children on human sexuality in the confines of their own homes. This serves to perpetrate a vicious cycle of continued sexual ignorance and spell long-term problems for society.

Fundamentally, the problem with an abstinence-only Sex Ed is that it creates the very same problems it was intended to solve. Education policymakers do society a disservice when they make sweeping and erroneous assumptions about human nature. Education should be reflecting society’s realities, not its norms. Those are the roles of the parents. It is thus important that all, policymakers and families alike, actively advocate a message more suited for societal realities, such as teaching about the importance of safe sex, the use of contraceptives and the notion of sexual experimentation. Education does not equate to advocacy. By all means, abstinence can still be advocated as the best means of avoiding unwanted pregnancies and STDs, but it should not be portrayed as the only conceivable way.

That said, Swan Lake is a tale of love and betrayal, the oldest story in the book and yet one that never gets old. After all, at least once in his life, any hotblooded male would have to contend with his overbearing mother, two young lasses vying for his attention and an evil asshole who somehow still wants to be his father-in-law. As a social science student, I find that there’s a great deal of relevance in Swan Lake with what I learned, so I’m gonna touch on a couple;

First off, the prince. As with any young man, he is under pressure from people around him to conform to societal expectations. Understandably Freudian, most of it came from his mother, but there are many others who see holding on to the royal schlong as a means to control the kingdom, from the princess of the Celts to the evil sorcerer in his mother’s court. After all, with a title which ends off with “and so forth, and so forth” ‘cos there’s just too many to list, the young Tsarevich is not really a bad catch even without the blond curls.

Once in a while, it would be good to get out of the house to get a breath of fresh air, and that’s when his highness stumbles upon the innocent white swan. Falling in love with her, he promises her eternal love so that he can break the curse that’s keeping her in swan form.

He's such an asshole that the air around him catches fire easily.

The nasty complication is that his highness’ mother’s court sorcerer, the one who cursed the white swan in the first place and who is pretty much an asshole that he makes it seem effortless to be one, wants his daughter, the alluring black swan, to be the future Tsarina. So he seeks to thwart the budding romance by getting his daughter to seduce the prince, just in time for (you guessed it) the white swan to walk in on the prince declaring his love for the black swan. Cockblocked, the prince leaves the palace to look for the white swan.

Sure enough, he finds her, and sure enough, the black swan caught up. The prince does not have an easy decision to make. It’s like one of those ‘shoot, f**k, marry’ games, only that he only has the last two options and he has to choose between the sweet white swan and the sexual black swan. Human nature being human nature, a tale being a tale, and a prince a prince…

Voila! He gets both of them!

Seriously, there is some NC16 stuff going on here. In any case, hooray, the prince gets both of the girls! Happily ever after, from a marital standpoint?

Hold yer horses, did I not mention that the sorcerer’s an asshole? Yes, turns out he can’t stand the sight of a happy ending, even though he could have gone on to be a Grand Duke or something similar with this delightful conclusion. He challenges the prince, mano a mano, in a duel to the death. By this time, he must have gone starkers or something, considering he would not be able to really rule the kingdom without a prince to control. Thankfully, the country did not have to suffer a succession crisis as the prince drives his sword into the wicked sorcerer, finally allowing the lovely threesome to live happily and ever after.

Dr. Tony Tan Keng Yam will be our seventh president, and he will be sworn in on 1st September 2011. With that, Singapore will look forward to her 3rd elected president.

With a 4-way contest taking place so soon after the GE, this presidential election was highly politically-charged, with many using the support for Dr. Tony Tan, who had the support of the establishment, as a test of the electorate’s support for the government. Like the GE, emotions ran high and many saw, once more, the darker sides of Singaporeans during this period.

Contrary to calls for a dignified contest befitting of the highest office in the land, we witnessed moments of jeering, name-calling and personal attacks.

We see instances when we segregate our fellow Singaporeans by their personal choices, and denounce those whom think differently from us.

In one breath we sang praises of democracy and in another deny others the right to voice out against us.

Given the vote-share, I know that there will be many who will not easily take the results of this presidential elections. We will see many who would simplistically partition the people of Singapore into percentages and demeaning labels which sole purpose is only to further divide us; ‘pro-foreigner’, ‘anti-Singaporean’, ‘daft’, ‘pro-pappies’…the list goes on and on. We will see baseless allegations of conspiracy in attempts to invalidate the results. We might even see people who no longer afford the presidency the respect it rightfully deserves as the embodiment of our state.

I have my own personal views too. I have my own views about what kind of president we shall have, what he can do or how he should look like (mind you, we will have to stare at his portrait in the halls of power). I have, like many others, a pretty clear idea of who I do not want as my president.

My own views will shape my own control of the pen at the poll booth. I may persuade you to my point of view but ultimately, I should and will respect the candidate you voted for, whoever he may be. What makes one’s own views any more wrong than another’s?

It is periods like this which divide. It is afterward, whether we unite or divide further, that truly determine how successful we are as a nation.

So, I was slightly surprised when I found out, through another friend who went around asking his peers about their voting patterns (something I don’t necessarily condone), that MT readily disclosed he had voted PAP.

'Controlled foreign residents'? Good luck with persuading 2nd-gen Singaporeans to your cause.

Then again, I should not have been surprised. If I put myself in MT’s shoes, I would have done exactly the same in his circumstances. How else could I have reacted, when I see repeated calls by those of a certain political persuasion (in this case, specifically with reference to the poster on the left, those who group the opposition into one whole grouping) demanding people who I care about, like my parents, to be controlled or, worse, locked up so that they could not take the jobs of the locals?

Sure, such people could have been caught up in the heat of the moment and would not really have the guts to launch an actual witch-hunt against non-Singaporeans. And even if they do, they did not necessarily represent the views of those they purportedly support. I know for sure because I do not need to closely scrutinize WP’s manifesto to know they do not advocate ‘controlling’ ‘foreign residents’.

Yet, if supporters of such a shade saw fit to use me as political ammunition to serve their purposes, it would be well within my rights for me to use my vote as a way to defend my right to live here, without fear, in the land I was born and grew up in.

And I would have said to him, “you darned well have the bloody right to do so!”.

MT is not the only one. I have heard similar reasons from friends also caught up in such circumstances for why they would support PAP. It is not, as many would have simplistically painted it, cowardice or sucking up to the powers-that-be, but a desire to defend their way of life. It is about preserving one’s right to comfortably sleep at night, knowing that you share the right to work hard and earn your just rewards like any citizen and that no one has the power to lynch you by virtue of your birth. Such Singaporeans impress me with their determination and, knowing that such resolve was likely reflected in my ancestors, make me proud to call them my fellow Singaporeans.

NSP's Steve Chia yelling slogans at PAP's Moulmein-Kallang team during a walkabout before the GE

This incident also highlights my greatest discomfort as of late; the increased shift towards politics of antagonism. One time too many, I have met certain people who are quick to paint swaths across those who they meet, quickly classifying them as ‘us’ or ‘them’, with no one else being allowed to fall in-between. A quote by US President George W. Bush aptly captures this attitude; “Either you are with us, or you are with the terrorists.”

I do not allow myself to fall into the trap of playing politics of antagonism. If I want to win someone over to my point of view, I choose to persuade them with the positives of my position, rather than pull them away from my opponent’s position by focusing on their negatives. If one is defined by what he is against (as opposed to what he stands for), what will he stand for once those he oppose vanish? The best-case scenario such a stance can hope for would be that the position he opposes stays there forever.

Joker: Those mob fools want you gone so they can get back to the way things were. But I know the truth: there’s no going back. You’ve changed things… forever.
Batman: Then why do you want to kill me?
The Joker: [laughs] I don’t want to kill you! What would I do without you? Go back to ripping off mob dealers? No, no, NO! No. You…you…complete me.

A poster from a regime which once played on politics of antagonism. To devastating effect.

By subscribing to a ‘black and white’ view of the world, how is one going to win over anyone who they have already demonized in their quest to score political points? I know my side is not exactly on the side of angels as well. I have my personal convictions for defending what I believe in. However, just because my opponents use certain tactics does not mean I have to stoop to their level. Singaporeans have to understand that we cannot unify as a nation together if we stubbornly and pigheadedly insist that only we have all the answers and anyone else who disagrees with us is an idiot.

Yet, when I see such politics of antagonism being repeated in other scenarios, such as schools or offices, I began to wonder if this was perhaps not exclusive to the public sphere but rather part of human nature itself. Since time immemorial, we humans have been in conflict because we cannot agree with each other. The Nazis only kinda brought everything to a new low.

Do we play the exclusivity card because there is nothing better than a clearly-defined external enemy which unites us? Is it a lot easier to work against someone/something than it is to work together? Is politics of antagonism just simply politics?

Is any effort to rise above this, ultimately, futile? Sometimes, I wonder.

I had extracted the article from Google’s cache and published it here because I felt that its publication, however fleeting, raises serious questions and warrants discussion about the quality of articles that TOC had been putting up of late.

Religion creeping into Singapore politics?

Perry Tan
Jun 3rd, 2011

Imagine Yaacob Ibrahim standing on the victor’s podium and closing his election victory speech with “Alahu Akbar!” (God is great).

Or Khaw Boon Wan, a devout Buddhist, declaring that he needs to meditate to find inspiration to solve Singapore’s housing woes.

Unimaginable? Politically incorrect?

That’s right. The above would be unsettling to Singapore’s electorate, because we are a nation with a plurality of ethnic groups, cultures and religions. Since independence, Singapore has been run as a secular state without a state religion, with the government conducting its business in an entirely legal-rational and pragmatic approach. The first generation PAP leaders set the rules of engagement quite clearly in this area – a space for religion exists and religion is practised freely in the private realm, but the politicisation of religion is a strict no-no. Political leaders are free to practise their religion of choice, but it has always been an implicit rule that they keep their religious beliefs within their private domains, and carry out their public duty in a wholly secular manner. During electoral campaigning, no one leverages on religion to canvass for votes, as it is seen as potentially divisive and damaging to our multi-cultural and multi-religious society.

However, those amongst us who are more astute and sensitive would have noticed some PAP MPs loosening up in this area.

When Lim Biow Chuan won the Mountbatten SMC in GE2011, his victory speech ended with him thanking God – a practice that is unusual in Singapore. (See here: YouTube, at 4:20.)

The cover story of the Straits Times on 2nd June was about ex-Foreign Minister George Yeo’s possible candidacy for the Elected Presidency. It spotted a headline which said, “Thinking hard about it and praying for wisdom” (emphasis added) – a “status update” extracted from his Facebook page.

If we find the imagined examples of Yaacob Ibrahim and Khaw Boon Wan mentioned at the beginning of this article unsettling, should we not raise an eyebrow to what Lim Biow Chuan said and what George Yeo wrote?

Lim Biow Chuan’s public display of divine appreciation was probably free of political agenda, but we can imagine the disconnect and even discomfort non-Christians (which is about 75 per cent of Singaporeans) felt after hearing an elected public office holder expressing gratitude to a religious supreme being in a public and secular context.

George Yeo’s reference and deference to his God may not be as innocuous as it seemed – it was likely a deliberate tactic designed to display his faith and sway Christian votes to his favour. An attempt to leverage on religious faith to build political capital, albeit with a dose of subtlety?

While it may be argued that George Yeo is free to express his religious thoughts in his private capacity on Facebook, one must also be reminded that he is a highly visible and popular public figure, and his Facebook page is a public one that was set up with the intent of engaging the public and promoting political agendas.

Touching on the topic of religion and political capital, one is reminded of another incident during GE2011, when Vivian Balakrishnan released a controversial statement which implicitly insinuated that Vincent Wijeysingha is gay, undoubtedly swaying conservative Christian votes away from the SDP. An example of manipulation of religious sensitivities to drive a political stake into the heart of an electoral rival?

Are PAP politicians starting to use religion to build political capital for themselves, and to bludgeon their political opponents? Is this the emergence of a brand of right-wing, faith-based politics that is similar to the Republican Party’s purposeful cultivation of its conservative Christian base by advocating right-wing ideologies? If left unchecked, are we going to witness hopelessly polarised and excessively ideological debates like pro-life vs pro-choice, creationism vs intelligent design, anti-gay vs freedom to love (we already saw this in the past few years), etc, on this little red dot in the near future?

Some years ago, there were murmurs that there was a disproportionate concentration of Christian PAP MPs in Parliament, and the potential undesirable impact this may have on policy making and the political discourse in Singapore politics. Are those fears unfounded or is there reason to be wary?

Post-GE2011, the Prime Minister released a set of Rules of Prudence for PAP MPs, which is essentially a code of conduct that provides guidance on good MP etiquette. While it has a section on “Separating Business and Politics”, a similar section on keeping religion and politics apart is conspicuously absent. Perhaps it would be prudent to include in the Rules of Prudence a couple of bullets on keeping personal religiosity private and separate from all political contexts. Otherwise, in the near future, we may hear elected MPs thanking Tua Pek Gong or Ministers talking about seeking guidance from Ganesha.

Though the author has made every move imaginable in logical gymnastics with this article, I will not take this wonderful opportunity to validate everything I had learned in the ‘Analytic Skills’ course.

Despite being an atheist myself and having been a staunch advocate of the separation of church and state, I find it inappropriate if I, or indeed anyone else, were to impose the complete removal of religiosity and spirituality from the public sphere. Religion is a personal choice and it contributes to a person’s outlook of life and the choices he/she will make.

Yes, that religious inclination might color his/her views of various issues, from birth control to gay rights, but to conveniently sweep up these polarities into various false (and erroneous) dichotomies (“pro-life vs pro-choice, creationism vs intelligent design, anti-gay vs freedom to love“) only serves to highlight the ignorance and simplicity in the author’s thinking. Furthermore, laying the blame for increasing religiosity in the public sphere squarely on the shoulders of the PAP MPs also conveniently ignores the possibility that religiosity among its members may also be the reason why WP remains, to date, largely conservative on social issues.

I understand that people choose to see what they want to see, and the author’s myopia may be nothing extraordinary.

What worries me most was that it was published on TOC, a highly influential socio-political blog once lauded for its moderate stance (vis-a-vis its insane counterpart Temasek Review), decided to publish such a half-baked article bordering on the incendiary (just look at the opening paragraph), only pulling it off once comments questioning its credibility started flooding in.

As a web blog with a great deal of influence, it has to exercise that influence responsibly. As the Spider-Man cliche goes, ‘with great power comes great responsibility‘. I will not deny that TOC has a great deal of ‘power’. Heck, among educated circles, ‘TOC’ had became the byword for the section of the online community which is able to discuss national policies sensibly and rationally, in contrast to that veritable asylum that is TR.

I was not among those who sympathized with TOC’s so-called ‘plight’ when it was to be gazetted as a political association. I did not because I was and am of the strong opinion that TOC could no longer pretend to be a commentator of political issues with no ambition to influence their readers/followers. I think, in fact, they have every right to be proud that they were viewed as such an influential channel by the powers-that-be; not because I think they need an endorsement from the authorities (heck, no), but because it should serve as a sign to them that they are being taken seriously by the powers that they are scrutinizing/questioning/challenging.

Still, the daily running of TOC is up to its administrators. They ultimately decide its strategic direction and how it goes about doing its interaction with Singaporean society, be it the disadvantaged, ordinary citizens or the government. I’ll just be counting down to the day when it becomes a parody of The Straits Times it has painted.

Kang Hong and I with a section of the class we visited

I was not entirely unfamiliar with Chinese schools. In one of my various trips to my ancestral town, prior to receiving my JAE posting results in 2006, my eldest cousin, Kang Hong, and I paid a visit to a secondary school there with my grandfather. We met with the principal briefly before we were presented to a class. I met with all the students individually and made, true to Singaporean fashion, two short speeches, one in English and another in Mandarin. I spoke about the values of working hard and the merits of a good bilingual education. Our visit was well-received and was even covered in the town’s media.

Me on IV Drip in QHD city

That said, my initial impression of Fenghuangshan was, honestly, one of shock. I was stunned at the physical condition of the village; be it the school, the hostel or the other establishments. Perhaps I had already subconsciously built up an impression of Chinese villages based on my ancestral town (admittedly, one that is quite developed), what resulted was that I did not adjust well. I spend the first 3 days in the city hospital on IV drip, based on the diagnosis of a doctor who did not bother to give me any in-depth examination beyond that of pressing on my tummy.

It was then I identified the source of my problem; I had been accustomed to the living standards of Singapore. My body was not ready for moving away from the habit of drinking fresh water out of one’s taps, or spanking clean hospitals in which one finds more sterilizers than actual wash basins. I was not ready for sleeping on a wooden plank with two layers of fabric as a faux mattress or taking a dump at a toilet which cannot flush TP. I had hit my personal threshold. I knew that I could not bring my Singaporean worldview and impose it on an infrastructure that was neither ready nor needed it. For me, the choice was either adapt or die collapse and get evacuated to Singapore, cutting short my involvement prematurely.

Should we pity the villagers? Should we pity them that they are not aware of better options out there other than planting one’s own waste as fertilizers on one’s crops? Or that apparatuses that send aromatic scents wafting through one’s foul-smelling toilet actually exist? I think not. We only feel sad for ourselves that we once had all these and had taken them for granted. Looking at our lives, they may even feel pity for us, thinking we know little beyond a hectic life chasing papers and the material.

In the midst of this culture shock, it would have been easy to neglect our fundamental purpose there; to bring 2 weeks of joy into the lives of the kids. I did not forget it; in fact, I was to refocus it as the single greatest memory I will keep with me about the two weeks there. While the Chinese kids were not as well-behaved as the excessively polite Japanese kids I got to work with a few months back, they were still lovely and enthusiastic, eager to learn and bubbling with energy.

Two incidents involving the kids stuck with me till even now. The first involved 2 different-sized kids during a lesson in the multi-purpose hall. During one break, the larger kid (Kid Alpha) had gone to the toilet and the smaller kid (Kid Beta) took this opportunity to occupy his seat so that he can chat with his friend. When Kid Alpha returned, he demanded for his seat back for which Kid Beta just ignored. The former then just squeezed his way back into his own seat, causing Kid Beta to be squashed uncomfortably into the wooden grip of the chair. I only took notice when a small commotion arose, and I took both out for a quiet lecture. I told Kid Beta that, while Kid Alpha was wrong to have chosen a more brutal way to reacquire his seat, he should have not ignored Kid Alpha’s initial request to get his rightful seat back. Vice versa, of course. I still wondered how much good I did. Did I manage to impress upon of them that in any incident in which both parties share fault, they should take responsibility, learn from it and make sure it does not happen again?

The second involved another 2 kids. At one of our mass games, a thickset kid was furiously punching the arm of a skinnier kid, who had a cheeky expression on his face. I told off the former against using brute force, to which he unhesitatingly replied, “What you call ‘brute force’ in Singapore, we call ‘play’ over here.” It was a crude comparison, and I left him with a question to ponder; when does it cross over from ‘play’ to ‘brute force’? When an injury arises, or death?

The second incident left a deeper impression on me than the former. Was I wrong in, as I had previously mentioned, imposing my Singaporean standards on kids who would, in fact, lose out if they do follow our standards in their society? After all, I had observed that if one attempts to board Shanghai mass transit like we do in Singapore, with our inner STOMP telling us what’s the appropriate way to behave, he/she can forget about getting to his/her destination at all, much less on time.

Yes, that's me wearing a 'Singapore' shirt in the corn fields.

In any case, I was not to forget about home any time soon, both in the figurative and literal sense of the statement. We taught the kids the Mandarin version of our evergreen national song, ‘Home’ (家), as the lyrics omit direct references to Singapore and were deemed ‘more’ universal than the English original. It still got to me, and I teared more than a couple of occasions as I watched the music video with the city skyline that I would see when I look out of the window of my home. Singing the song reminded me that I am Singaporean, no matter where or when. No society would readily accept me as my own home would.

Ultimately, we were guests there. We would not be able to stay for perpetuity. Our ways were different. As any experience in life, this one has taught me invaluable lessons. If I had the opportunity to choose again, would I have made the same choice?

Yes, but pack more Singaporean freshwater along.

For many, it is an excellent opportunity to enjoy another public holiday. Take some time off to go and do some of the things they have been wanting to do for a long time but couldn’t due to the hectic city life.

For some, it is to stage a magnificent show for the country and the world to see, after months of preparation. A spectacular display to unite the country as we hum the old tunes which still resonate with every Singaporean.

For some, it is a moment for quiet reflection, to take stock of what the country has done thus far and should do in the years to come.

I like to take National Day to indulge in all of the above. Play our national sport (shopping) in the afternoon with my family and friends, and then spend the evening at home to catch the National Day Parade and watch fireworks from such a vantage point. Above all, I think about my hopes and dreams for the country, and how I will go about achieving them as a human being and as a Singaporean.

This year, the last point is particularly important. Coming out of a highly-polarized General Elections and heading into another contest to choose our head of state, it would be inevitable that there would be many who will tend to lose sight of the fact that this moment is an opportunity for unity and not division.

I do not hate those who fail to see it. I pity them. They need to recognize that there is more to any one person than his/her voting patterns and that everyone, even those whom they disagree with, has a role to play in the Singapore they want to see. They need to realize that there is more to the place they call home than its politics. They need to start seeing that they defend this home not to protect their own hide but the way of life of those whom they care about.

Enough with the talk of the ‘ignorant 60%’ or the ‘ungrateful 40%’. Do away with the equating of the National Flag, a symbol for the nation, to party emblems, or derogatory nicknames like ‘chingapore’ or ‘sinkapoor’ that disparage our national identity and dignity. Remind oneself that the parliamentarians, be they clad in white or blue, are not the guests of the National Day Parade, but rather each and every Singaporean.

This year’s theme is ‘Majulah!’, which translates to ‘onward’ in Malay, our national language. I have always liked ‘Majulah’ to be our rallying cry, for it aptly encapsulates the spirit of our nation; the pursuit of happiness, prosperity and progress for our nation. Indeed, it is an ideal each and every Singaporean should strive for in his/her personal capacity; the enrichment of oneself, and how one contributes his/her skills constructively to the progress of our nation to create a better environment for those whom one care about. It is such a simple idea, but it is one that keeps me going.

Yes, I don’t necessarily agree with many things that are being done. Naturally, there are changes I wish to see in the country. But I will be damned if I ever give up or, worse, give in to destructive impulses that does nothing for the progress of our great nation.

This national day and for the infinite ones to come, let us never forget our common purpose, which transcends mere events organized once every few years or pet peeves that are no more than just quarrels between family members. For on this tiny island we know as our home, who do we have but our family and friends?

Happy birthday, Singapore. Majulah Singapura!

I wrote the following paper for my individual assignment in Introductory Psychology.

Prisoners at forced labor building airplane parts at the Siemens factory in the Bobrek labor camp, a sub-camp of Auschwitz.

In the field of psychology, two experiments have stood out as testament to the horrifying reality that ‘normal’ and healthy humans are as capable of evil acts as the entire Nazi regime did; Stanley Milgram’s obedience experiment and Philip Zimbardo’s Stanford Prison (SPE). Both experiments demonstrated that under oppressive conditions, law-abiding citizens may be transformed into obedient executors and, in Zimbardo’s case, innovative creators of evil acts directed by a figure of authority. The progression in the study of the psychology of evil has led to greater understanding about why groups like the Nazis, Communists or racists commit such despicable acts. While there has been much research done on human capability for evil, less focus has been placed on where and why does evil, in the creative sense, originate. In other words, what motivates the metaphorical man in the white coat in Milgram’s experiment? Was it merely anti-Semitism that motivated Adolf Hitler to embark on the Final Solution? Where did Pol Pot cross the line from leading an anti-colonialist struggle to engineering the genocide of his own people? This paper examines some of the existing literature to better understand the underlying causes for the behavior of people who have demonstrated and exercised their capacity for creative evil.

It is important to define evil before we proceed. Evil, in the broadest sense, can be defined as a subset of moral wrongdoing that has surpassed a quantitative threshold in terms of the amount of injury caused, may it be permanent disability or death, and possesses the qualitative property of an aggravating intent behind the act, such as the intent to cause harm (Steiner, 2002). Given this definition, it can be distinguished that while killing a rapist in self-defense and intentionally maiming a toddler are wrongs, the latter is more an evil act.

"You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat from it you will certainly die."

What causes evil in Man? Historically, religions espoused that evil acts can be associated with malevolent personifications or arose in defiance of a benevolent god (Buchholz & Mandel, 2000). In the Abrahamic religions, Adam and Eve were lured into eating from the ‘Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil’ by a serpent that is associated, and sometimes synonymous, with the Devil, in direct defiance of an omnipotent God. In Buddhist belief, one has to defeat Māra, the personification of evil who attempted to tempt Buddha from his meditation, to achieve enlightenment (Bloss, 1978). Such beliefs carried on to the present day, as a study in the United States, which found that disenfranchised groups, such as African-Americans, have a higher tendency to attribute their misfortunes and other evil acts on the Devil or other demons, shows (Baker, 2008). Religious teachings thus allow for attributing creative evil to an external cause; that is, mankind’s association with nefarious supernatural forces out of their control.

Contemporary thought has moved the attribution of evil towards internal causes, which can be divided into three views; optimism, pessimism and dualism (Perrett, 2002). Carl Rogers, one of the founders of Humanist psychology, theorized that humans are inherently good but may turn to evil as a result of negative life experiences. This might be able to explain why Hitler, whose mother died in spite of the medical treatment of a Jewish doctor and coupled with prevailing sentiment that the Jews were the cause of their societal problems, could have viewed the extermination of Jews as a way to cure the world’s ills. On the other hand, Freudian psychology proposed that humans are driven by primal instincts, personified by the Id which is not bound by moral considerations, and hence inherently ‘bad’, only doing ‘good’ as a self-defense mechanism in response to parental expectations, represented by the Superego (Buchholz & Mandel, 2000). This is similar to evolutionary perspectives of ‘evil’, which establishes that being driven by self-preservation is just part and parcel of the ‘survival of the fittest’ (Thompson, 2002). Dualistic views take into account mankind’s propensity for both altruistic and selfish actions, which leaves the question of what then prompts humans to behave in good or evil ways in any situation.

The Milgram Experiment, with the Stanford Prison Experiment, were famous experiments examining into the notion of evil.

The Milgram experiment and SPE have made the biggest contribution to modern thinking of evil with the factoring of environment into this equation. Evil is more likely to flourish in certain ‘evil-encouraging’ environments, such as an impoverished war-ravaged Germany or a mock prison in Palo Alto. On top of our individual predisposition towards good and evil, environments will help determine the course of action we may take, be it good or evil (Formosa, 2007).

There is little doubt that humans have shown a capacity for creative evil. History bears witness to human atrocities, and even in the present day, media reports of unspeakable deeds shake the human conscience at its very foundations. Why people do evil as opposed to good is as much a psychological question as it is a philosophical one. I believe that the religious teachings may serve as Jungian archetypes which hint at mankind’s fascination with and potential for evil; as much as we were created in the image of benevolent deities, might we have also inherited the characteristics of the less savory ones in the pantheon? However, the fascination with evil should not mean that we hold that humans will not do good as long as it inconveniences them. Tales of heroic deeds show us that even when the chips are down, humans have a propensity to be altruistic, at the cost of their lives if necessary. It is such deeds of creative good that should inspire humans as much as, if not more so, it frightens us about our potential for creative evil.

Bibliography

• Baker, J. (2008, December). Who Believes in Religious Evil? An Investigation of Sociological Patterns of Belief in Satan, Hell, and Demons. Review of Religious Research, 50(2), 206-220.
• Bloss, L. W. (1978, November). The Taming of Māra: Witnessing to the Buddha’s Virtues. History of Religions, 18(2), 156-176.
• Buchholz, E. S., & Mandel, J. K. (2000). Reaching for Virtue, Stumbling on Sin: Concepts of Good and Evil in a Postmodern Era. Journal of Religion and Health, 39(2), 123-142.
• Formosa, P. (2007, June). Understanding Evil Acts. Human Studies, 30(2), 57-77.
• Perrett, R. W. (2002). Evil and Human Nature. The Monist, 85(2), 304.
• Steiner, H. (2002). Calibrating Evil. The Monist, 85(2), 183.
• Thompson, P. (2002). The Evolutionary Biology of Evil. The Monist, 85(2), 239

This was a cute little fabric button of the Japanese flag distributed to the volunteers.

My Sunday afternoon was spent helping run a one-day workshop as part of my participation in the Japanese Cultural Club. The workshop was organized as part of the 3rd International Children’s Art Exchange (ICAE) which took place from 20 to 23 May. It was held for a group of five kids from Shakuji Gakuen, aged between 10 and 12, a small group of Japanese kids from the expatriate community in Singapore, and a relatively large group of Singaporean kids.

The workshop comprises of a culinary session when the kids got a hands-on experience making curry, an art and craft activity of the retelling of the Urashima Tarō legend, and a games-sharing segment when Japanese and Singaporeans each introduced and shared their respective childhood games.

The Japanese kids were extremely likeable and polite to a fault. Despite my language gap, one of them, a 12-year-old boy named Katsuki, took a liking to me almost instantly and volunteered to be in the group I was taking care of. There was one young boy (who looks awfully like Kenichi Matsuyama) who was very excited at seeing us Singaporeans try out the kendama, and his adorable cries of ‘sugei!’ when we caught the ball even with the wrong technique. The Japanese expats were also equally polite, and I was able to rely on one in my group as a translator with Katsuki-kun.

The Singaporean kids were another thing altogether. While many of them were rather well-behaved, some were a real handful. For instance, in my group, there was a boy who spent more time provoking the other group members than helping out in the art and craft activity, and was deliberately disrupting the games session. There was also another kid who jealously guarded the curry section like his own, berating the other kids for doing it wrongly even as I encouraged them to have a go.

Still, the fault does not lie entirely with the children. While it’s fair to say that psychological research have found that temperament is genetic and may be difficult to change, much input still comes from the environment in which children grew up in. Needless to say, family is important, but the real question is what kind of environment is the child’s family providing?

I do think culture plays an important role. It would not be an over-generalization to say that, in Singapore, it is a lot easier to find a family at a dinner table engrossed in their own iPhones than one engaging in dinner conversation. Despite their amazing advancements in mobile phone technology, I had yet to find a Japanese family doing the same when I was over at Japan (mind you, I was off the beaten track).

Which brings me back to the children. I was amazed at how polite Katsuki-kun remained even as a Singaporean girl rudely mocked his speaking Japanese in a manner not unlike Alexandra Wallace. Even as I was furiously reminding the girl to be respectful of other cultures, Katsuki-kun was profusely seeking her understanding.

Yes, we may not be Japanese. It does not change the fact that there are indeed some things we can learn from them. We cannot be as arrogant as to believe the values we were brought up on are cast in stone and worth defending against all reason. Too many times have I heard the ‘infallible excuse’ of “It’s okay for me to complain; I’m Singaporean!” or the belief that we are deserving of superior treatment to foreigners. We have to be better than that. We can learn the value of humility in the face of intolerance, or bravery in the face of adversity.

Katsuki-kun has certainly taught me that.

I personally enjoyed the following article a lot, back when it was first published in September 2010. I identified with it a lot and defended the piece when many slammed the author for not having undergone the ‘true National Service’. It generated, from what I observed, the highest number of comments for a column piece in TODAYonline.

I had to search long and hard to find a photo of a clerk at work. And I only knew about this one 'cos I personally helped my former superior arrange it in Army News.

A whole lot of guys out there will be thanked for their contributions to Singapore with a pile of cash poured into their CPF accounts, thanks to the National Service Recognition Award announced this week.

But, as the papers have been reporting, it is not about the money — it’s the symbol of appreciation and gratitude to our National Servicemen that matters.

It’s a nice gesture but, really, it’s us guys who have so much to thank National Service for.

And I’m not even talking about the obvious benefits like learning discipline, honour and national pride; or even the acquisition of skills necessary to protect our country like building little bridges, standing at attention in a really straight line for long periods of time, or running up hills to blow stuff up.

I’m talking about the life lessons you don’t find in the brochure — the things that make a mother proud. Like good housekeeping.

“The army will be good for you,” my mother said to me in the car on enlistment day all those years ago, spotting my sulk in the backseat through the rearview mirror. “It’ll make you a man.”

Then, rather inexplicably, she added: “And you’ll learn how to make your bed.”

I know I wasn’t valedictorian or anything but I couldn’t help but feel she was aiming a little low for her son. Sure, “Prime Minister” was out, but wasn’t “chambermaid” a little premature?

Nonetheless, mother, as always, was right. I did indeed learn how to make my bed. And it only took two-and-a-half years.

I wasn’t an officer or anything worth celebrating with a parade, but I’ve always envisioned my mother sitting in the bleachers for me, and when I marched on by, she’d wipe a proud tear from her eye, turning to the person next to her to say: “That’s my boy — the best blanket folder in his battalion!”

My time in the army wasn’t quite the usual experience that’s doled out, seeing as I was a sick boy. The guys in my PES C9 unit all wore nametags on our uniforms — not to introduce ourselves politely but to advertise a laundry list of activities that might crush our frail bodies.

Mine said I was excused from running, jumping, push-ups, sit-ups, swimming, and a host of other things that military recruits and healthy 12-year-old girls should have no problem doing. We were, as my warrant officer referred to us, the “fragile ones”.

While other bald teenage boys exchanged stories about bayonet fighting and strange adventures in something called 5BX — which I imagined had something to do with top secret mountain biking — we swapped medical predicaments.

“What are you in for?” one would ask.

“Asthma, flat feet, spinal deformity,” the other would answer. “You?”

“Collapsed lung.”

“Ah,” he’d nod. “Want an Oreo?”

But just because we were fragile, it didn’t mean we didn’t have that famed male-bonding experience everyone talks about. It’s true that you meet all kinds in the army, and that everyone is really good to each other.

Like the insecure 17-year-old kid in my unit who overcompensated with aggression and occasional violence — he was a smiling, well-adjusted (well, comparatively) individual by the end of BMT, after the guys had shown him that he didn’t have to be a badass to impress anyone.

Or the dancer who became a much nicer person after he realised no one was judging his predilection for a good kick-ball-change routine.

Or the nice dude who came up to me for a lovely chat one day at the rifle range when I was scribbling in my notebook — this was during my poncy pseudo poet days — while waiting my turn to channel Tom Selleck in Quigley Down Under.

Nice dude: Hello.

Me: Hi.

Nice dude: Eh, I see you every day, you write and write and write. You write what, ah? Words, ah?

Me: (Uncomfortable pause) Erm. Yes.

Nice dude: Wah … You want Kit Kat?

Even I helped out. I told my buddy that after cleaning the inside of his rifle the way we were taught, he really should clean the outside of his rifle, too, if he didn’t want to have zits — particularly the part of the M16 where you have to press your cheek against to aim. Goodness knows where those things have been. Then I offered him a scented wet wipe. Our rifles smelled delightfully like baby powder.

Priceless memories, lucrative cleaning skills and enough material for a bad sitcom. Maybe I could call it “5BX: Secret Agent Mountain Bikers From Mars”. It would be like Charlie’s Angels meets NCIS meets ‘Allo ‘Allo meets Alf. Thank you, National Service.

And if the sitcom thing works out, maybe I’ll send the nice dude some writing of words.

- TODAYonline