Mr Wang Says So

New Adventures in Real Estate

2009-11-03T10:01:00.011+08:00

This year the property market was like a movie with a spectacular and improbable plot. However, the story was all real.

Mrs Wang and I have just sold our HDB apartment. This morning I signed the option papers.

We really weren't planning to sell at this time. Our new home is still under construction and it won't be ready, for about a year or so.

How then did we end up selling our HDB apartment? Well, it was literally a case of a stranger coming to our flat and knocking on the front door. He asked, "Are you interested in selling your flat?"

That was a week ago. He was a property agent. He had a small flock of very interested buyers. They came to view. There were discussions. The offer was good. We sold. And that was that.

Now I shall have to get busy scouting around the neighbourhood, looking for a place to rent. Renting will cost some money. Then again, with an extra few hundred thousand dollars in the bank, I don't mind. I also feel it's safer to lock in the profit now.

ST 24 October 2009
HDB Resale Prices at Record High

Prices of HDB resale flats in Singapore rose to record highs in the third quarter, according to data released on Friday.

The latest data from the Housing and Development Board (HDB) showed that the Resale Price Index rose 3.6 per cent in the third quarter over the previous quarter to 145.2 points. This has raised concern among some potential homebuyers, who fear that prices may continue to rise.

The last time the HDB resale market saw such high transaction volumes was more than four years ago, in the fourth quarter of 2004. Back then, 11,562 changed hands, compared to the 11,649 seen in the third quarter ended September this year.

ERA Real Estate said the typical quarterly HDB resale volume ranges from 6,000 to 8,000 units at most. Eugene Lim, associate director, ERA Asia Pacific, said: "We have seen the HDB resale volume jump to above 10,000 for second quarter and above 11,600 for the third quarter this year. "

The third quarter is a very good month for HDB resale. It's likely to taper off partly because cash over valuation, due to increased demand, has increased.

"HDB homebuyers are a price sensitive lot. So it will probably hit a resistance level. And in that sense we will expect resale volume to taper downwards in the last quarter."

The Bilingual Policy & Its Victims

2009-11-03T09:27:00.005+08:00

ST Nov 3, 2009
Bilingual policy was most difficult: MM
It took 30 years to get method of teaching Mandarin correct, he says
By Jeremy Au Yong

INTELLIGENCE does not necessarily translate into a flair for languages.

That was the lesson Minister Mentor Lee Kuan Yew said he learnt in implementing the bilingual policy in schools.

'Initially, I believed that intelligence was equated to language ability. Later, I found that they are two different attributes - IQ and a facility for languages. My daughter, a neurologist, confirmed this,' he said in an interview carried in Petir, the People's Action Party magazine.

Asked to pick policies he would have implemented differently, he cited the teaching of bilingualism, especially in English and Mandarin, as the most difficult policy.

'I did not know how difficult it was for a child from an English-speaking home to learn Mandarin,' he said.

'If you are speaking English at home and you are taught Mandarin in Primary 1 by Chinese teachers who teach Mandarin as it was taught in the former Chinese schools, by the direct method, using only Mandarin, you will soon lose interest because you do not understand what the teacher is saying.

'You spend time on extra tuition, and still make little progress. Many were turned off Mandarin for life.'

In the end, the Government recognised that students with the same ability in other subjects may not be able to cope being in the same second language class. It took 30 years for the issue to be resolved.

'Eventually, we settled the problem in 2004 by teaching the mother tongue in the module system. Had we done this earlier, we would have had less wastage of students' time and effort, and less heartache for parents,' he said candidly.

He took 30 years to see that "intelligence does not necessarily translate into a flair for languages". Wow, that is so ... not quick.

But the biggest problem with the bilingual policy was not the way the Chinese language (or for that matter, the English language) was taught in schools.

The biggest problem was the government's rigid insistence (that lasted for many years) that a student who wished to progress to the next higher stage of education would have to pass both English and Chinese - entirely regardless of what he wanted to study, at the next stage.

So for instance, let's say you are outstanding in mathematics. In the A-levels, you score distinctions for your maths and maths-related subjects. You have always scored distinctions for your maths. And you wish to go to university to pursue a maths degree.

However, you flunked your Chinese paper. Therefore you will not be allowed to study maths in university.

That was the way it used to be, in the past. The bilingual policy was characterised by a very striking lack of logic.

Well, on the bright side, the system is more flexible now. Yes, it took the government a few decades to fix it. But better late than never.

Poetry and Politics and PhDs

2009-11-02T18:15:00.013+08:00

Sometimes my poems travel to slightly odd places, and it takes me a while to find out.

Just discovered that a few years ago, a certain Simon Benjamin Obendorf discussed a poem of mine in his PhD dissertation. Obendorf was then pursuing his Doctor of Philosophy degree, at the University of Melbourne, and is now a lecturer at the University of Lincoln.

The appearance of my poem in a dissertation wouldn't be that unusual, if it were an English Literature dissertation. However, Dr Obendorf's area of academic interest is actually political science and international relations.

His 287-page dissertation is entitled Sexing Up The International, and somewhere around page 41, he begins to discuss my poem. The relevant passage is below:

I had a small part in a
Big show of a great little nation.
My uniformed mates and I were
To march out, swing left,
Turn twice, and get off the grounds
In twenty seconds flat.
Meanwhile the music boomed,
The lasers splashed,
And the darkened crowds hit
A new high of pre-planned,
Programmed excitement.
Later at home, my mother replayed
The video tape five times
But couldn't tell her tiny toy-
Soldier son from any of the rest.
"That one is me," I said,
Pointing at the screen.
I couldn't be sure.
Still, we laughed and clapped
Our hands like children,
Knowing that it was not
Supposed to matter.

Gilbert Koh's poem, "National Day Parade" depicts the thoughts of a young Singaporean national serviceman regarding his participation, as part of a military unit, in one of Singapore's spectacular independence day parades. These parades are held annually, either at the historically significant Padang (field) near Singapore's colonial City Hall and Supreme Court buildings or at the National Stadium. The presentation of the parades has been identified as a strategy by political elites in Singapore to both craft appropriate national identities and to strengthen popular support for government ideologies and the political status quo. Indeed, the Parade organisers are extremely open about this aspect of the Parade's raison d'etre. On the official National Day parade website for 2004, one feature essayist writes that "there is a need for the rituals of patriotism, so as to galvanise an entire nation into remembering our past, to celebrate the present, and to remind us that the future is yet to be." Commenting on the tendency for the Parade to highlight or refer to key moments in Singapore's history, she goes on to exert that "by writing history in this manner, the idea of nationality is made definitive and official." While commentators have, in recent years, identified a shift in the visible role played by the military in these parades (from one of demonstrating military might through the parading of armoured vehicles and weaponry to one of emphasising the combat skills and professional discipline of military personnel through demonstrations such as skydiving, parachuting and choreographed bayonet drills) the Parade, both in its presentation and its organisation, remains a thoroughly military affair.

.... Kong and Yeoh have explored the ways in which national identities that are consumed in, and constructed through, the staging of this elaborate national ritual are marked by "an acute awareness of the need to survive in a neighbourhood of regional hostility". This gives rise, they argue, to the "military flavour of the parades, asserting the capabilities of a small island in defence." This aspect of the parade has perhaps been captured best by Devasahayam, who argues that the National Day parade, held annually on 9 August (the date of Singapore's expulsion from the Malaysian Federation in 1965) is a symbolic dialogue with Malaysia in which Singapore, in an overt display of sabre-rattling, demonstrates its military might both to Malaysia and to other regional powers.

Koh's poem - with its references to the author and his "uniformed mates" marching in the "big show of a great little nation" - captures much of the tenor of these analyses but it is also a deeply personal response to the enforced homogeneity of military and national identities as well as a comment on the ways nationalist propaganda serves the ends of social control in, and for, the modern state. This personal response is informed not only by the author's participation in the conceptions of identity reinforced and celebrated by the parade, but also by a critical personal reflection on those identity formations and the methods used to compel adherence to them. References to "toy soldiers", to the submersion of the self in both the military unit and the nation, and to the crowd reaching new heights of "pre-planned, programmed excitement" suggest a mode of reading Singapore's preoccupations with domestic social control and international vulnerability that begins not with the state, but starts with, and works out from, the individual.

The fact that these insights can be derived through critical reading of a piece of contemporary Singapore poetry demonstrates the nexus between literature and personal responses to the international. Philip Darby has argued that "many facets of the relations between societies can be related to lived experience" and further that "literature's concentration on the personal can be a corrective to international relations' preoccupations with aggregates, its mechanistic presumptions about international processes and its positivist approach to outcomes." Allied to these opportunities are the benefits that might flow from the application, to real events and to everyday life, of modes of enquiry drawn from textual analysis. Gender analysis comes immediately to the fore, here. Scholars working in postcolonial literary studies have long drawn on literary materials to illustrate the ways in which external and internal exercises of power and hegemony have acted to shape gendered subjectivities within postcolonial polities ....

... the parade's significance is not merely due to its position as a state scripted ritual. As a reading of Koh's poem suggests, the parade references idealised, state-endorsed visions of everyday life and gendered subjectivity. Yet it is also a space in which Singaporeans participate in and consume such identities and messages. And it is such a dialogue between the elite and the everyday - marked by processes of resistance, cooption and volunteerism - that acts to shape the nature and contours of Singaporean everyday life. What I am interested in exploring here is how, or to what extent, everyday life might stand as a productive site of analysis for those interested in unpacking, or gaining new perspectives, on the penetration of international issues into Singaporean everyday life, on the ways in which the international concerns of the Singapore state are reflected, consumed and played out both in domestic policies and in everyday settings; and the ways in which the international can be theorised not merely from the familiar analytical standpoints of state and nation but in ways that build out from individuals, subjectivities and the processes of everyday life ...

I feel somewhat pleased with my little poem, for making it into a political science dissertation. I like crossing walls and borders.

In fact, it's a little ironic that it takes a political scientist like Obendorf to point out the connection between literature and the real world, at the personal level. Good poetry is all about that connection - it's all about real people, real events, real life. Good poetry has a soul.

In contrast, I'm often bored by the likes of, you know, some typical young smart-ass undergrad Lit student from NUS, attempting to comment on my works. I shouldn't generalise, but they tend to be oh so literary, oh so clever, and oh so hopelessly trapped within the formal framework of their own academic discipline.

When they try writing poetry themselves, aaaaack. They are so eager to impress with their "craft" that they cram every line with big words, flowery phrases or some original and entirely ill-fitting metaphor. "See, look at me, I'm so clever" is what they're trying to say with their poetry.

In the end, their poems feel like a model answer to a 10-year-series math question. Technically correct, occasionally even technically excellent. But also inauthentic, pretentious and quite lacking any genuine insight.

I shouldn't be mean. Maybe they are just young and immature.

One For The Scrapbook

2009-11-02T14:43:00.008+08:00

Stephanie Yap is a sub-editor for the Life! section of the Straits Times. She was also one of the 12 writers invited to join the recent Ubin writing retreat.

Last week she wrote an article in Life! about the experience. I'm posting the article here, as a little souvenir from the trip.

ST Oct 29, 2009
Ubin for inspiration
No TV, no Internet, but plenty of creative energy when writers get together on a five-day island retreat

By stephanie yap

On a sweltering Monday afternoon, while the rest of Singapore was cooped up in air-conditioned offices battling food comas, a dozen of us were herded to a quiet offshore island. Among our number on the bumboat bound for Pulau Ubin were winners of the Singapore Literature Prize and other assorted literary awards, prolific authors with double-digit bibliographies, Singapore literary pioneers and one Straits Times journalist.

We were the guinea pigs of the first Catalyst Creative Writing Residential Retreat, organised by non-profit organisation The Literary Centre in collaboration with the British Council and supported by the National Arts Council. The pilot for what is intended to be a continuing series of writing retreats open to anyone interested, last week's camp was modelled on Britain's renowned Arvon Foundation creative writing courses.

But where Arvon's courses are held in the majestic Scottish highlands or the bucolic English countryside, this retreat saw us sequestered at a solar-powered Ubin chalet compound, beside a beach strewn with litter thrown up by the busy Johor Straits.

With no TV, Internet access or - gasp - air-conditioning, for five days we were freed from all distractions so that we could get cracking on the Great Singapore Novel.

Nudging us on our literary way were daily group writing workshops and personal sessions conducted by our intrepid and patient tutors, British writer Courttia Newland and Singaporean writer Suchen Christine Lim.

This will seem odd coming from a journalist, but one of the things the workshops taught me is how much you can actually write when facing a deadline.

During the workshops, conducted in an open-air pondok or hut, we were tasked to write short pieces based on various stimuli, ranging from something as intangible as a childhood memory to the physical prop of an empty chair placed in the middle of the pondok.

In one memorable exercise, we paired up and took turns walking around blindfolded so that we would be forced to experience our surroundings with our other senses. (We were kind to each other: Newland said that when he does the exercise with kids, they usually end up making the blindfolded ones fight each other.)

Though what we wrote was ostensibly fiction, naturally some personal details crept into our works, which is why we, the self-proclaimed Ubin 12, have this pledge: What happens on Ubin stays on Ubin.

In between our daily activities of writing, swatting mosquitoes and making illegal phone calls home, we were also expected to take turns cooking for the group.

You have not supped unless you have tasted instant noodles made by three poets and a novelist. My guess is that none of them will be coming out with a cookbook anytime soon.

Heheh, I was one of the three poets. To be fair, we were not cooking mere instant noodles. We were attempting to do mee goreng. It was disastrous.

And during the long afternoons, the scorching sun having dried up what little creative juices we had to begin with, we would sneak out of the compound to explore the rest of the island.

Salvation from each other's cooking came from the nearby village and its motley assortment of restaurants, including a seller of ice-cold Thai coconuts and a former opium den-turned-coffee shop.

The more adventurous among us even rented bicycles and ventured into the jungle, which holds enough histories, secrets and wild boar to fill several epic novels.

Once, three of us stumbled upon a Taoist shrine devoted to a German girl who died after World War I, when she fell into a quarry while fleeing the British soldiers who wanted to imprison her family.

Now a deity with the power to bestow 4-D numbers on her loyal worshippers, she is represented by a blonde Barbie doll in a glass case, who smiles beatifically amid offerings of pressed powder, face creams and lipsticks.

Another day, a group of us checked out Chek Jawa, one of Singapore's last wetlands. As planes from all over the world flew overhead on their descent into Changi Airport, we cast our eyes downwards and spotted jellyfish, mudskippers and fiddler crabs with monstrously giant claws which they wave to attract females and intimidate rivals.

But in truth, we did not even have to venture far from our beds to encounter wildlife. Back at the chalets, the compound was ruled by a pack of stray dogs, led by an alpha male and his favourite companion, a female who managed to coax chunks of our dinner from our plates, thanks to her heart-meltingly liquid eyes.

But it is the nights around the barbecue pit that I remember most fondly. With the sun down and a breeze coming in from the sea, we would stuff ourselves with roasted meat and alcohol, then sit around and read each other our stories.

In Singapore, few writers are full-time wordsmiths, most having to hold day jobs to make a living. Among us on the island were practitioners in the fields of law, finance, education, arts management and the media.

Our varied experiences came to play in our stories, which featured student riots, school bullies, flashers, courtroom dramas, gerontophiles, army days, magic stones and tigers roaming HDB corridors.

Some works were in a raw state, others already highly polished. But in the diversity of offerings, it was clear how much the Singapore literary scene has to offer, if only writers are given the time and opportunity to write.

At the ongoing Singapore Writers Festival, alongside a host of international and regional stars, I look forward to home-grown literature being celebrated in symposiums, readings and book launches.

But I am also grateful for programmes such as Catalyst, which recognise that before audiences can be grown, writers must be nurtured. And there is no better way to help them develop their craft than by giving them some space, time and good company.

ysteph@sph.com.sg

Some of the participating writers will talk about their experiences at the retreat in The Creative Writing Experience at The Arts House, The Hall, on Saturday at 6pm. Admission is free.

I did go to the Arts House last Saturday evening, to do the talk, together with the other writers. A very decent-sized, interested crowd showed up and asked many questions. In fact we ran out of chairs.

Poems for the Weekend

2009-10-31T08:04:00.005+08:00

Two Baby Hands was published in June. Since then, I haven't really tried to write any new material. However, the recent writing retreat on Pulau Ubin was quite inspiring. And so - two new poems:

Poetry Workshop

as if in my words she had detected

the faint but unmistakeable traces of a lie.

at least mild despair, the protagonist grappling

and sees for the first time

The Buddha on Pulau Ubin

Welcome

I am pleased that you have come!

"Poetry Workshop" is not about an Ubin workhop, but a previous workshop I had conducted at Cedar Girls Secondary. "The Buddha on Pulau Ubin" still feels unfinished to me; it needs some more work, but I'll come back to it another time.

Incidentally, folks, in case you haven't noticed, in recent times I have grown tired of socio-political blogging. Although I don't plan to give it up completely, it's probably not going to be the main theme of this blog much longer. If the hardcore social/political stuff is what you come here to read, you might be better off visiting other blogs.

Not sure what exactly I'll be writing about here on this blog. I guess it will be more along the lines of personal reflections and thoughts on my own life.

Trembling in the Tropics

2009-10-29T12:43:00.005+08:00

Right now I'm sitting in my office blogging and eating lunch at the same time, and although Singapore is a tropical country, I've got my nice, warm jacket on. Why? Because the central air-conditioning here is just too cold for my comfort. Ironically, here's an article from the Straits Times today. Note the title:

ST Oct 29, 2009
S'pore a green building hub
New council to boost green construction; deal with UN unit to promote best practices
By Jessica Cheam

SINGAPORE took two major steps on Wednesday in its drive to position itself
at the forefront of the increasingly vital field of 'green' construction practices and technologies ....

I'm not here today to discuss whether Singapore is indeed a "green building" hub or not. I just wanted to point out another example of poor sub-editing by our mainstream media.

Once again, there's a big mismatch between the title of the article, and its actual content. The actual content makes no claim whatsoever that Singapore is a "green building hub". Instead it says that (1) a new council has been set up to promote sustainable construction, (2) the BCA has signed some document to promote good building practices, and (3) Singapore has the ambition to be the "green building hub" of the tropics.

Now, having the ambition to be something is quite different from actually being it. This should be a rather obvious point, but I guess it eluded the ST sub-editors.

The rest of the article is below. Now, please excuse me while I go and shiver .... Brrrrr.

A Singapore Green Building Council (SGBC) has been set up to promote sustainable construction. This includes driving efforts to green at least 80 per cent of buildings here by 2030.

And the Building and Construction Authority (BCA) has signed a Memorandum of Understanding with the United Nations Environment Programme to collaborate on promoting best building practices across Asia.

The move fits in with the Government's aim to set up a Centre of Excellence in sustainable building and construction in the future to cement Singapore's ambition to be the green building hub of the tropics. Details will be released later, said the BCA.

Deputy Prime Minister and Minister for Defence Teo Chee Hean announced the new council at the opening ceremony of the inaugural three-day International Green Building Conference held at Suntec convention centre on Wednesday.

Mr Teo noted that even as the world tackles the global economic downturn, 'we are faced with a policy imperative... that of ensuring sustainable development for our current generation, so that our future generations will have a future'.

Some Reflections on a Trip To Pulau Ubin

2009-10-24T17:26:00.007+08:00

Just back from a week-long stay at Pulau Ubin. Still feeling a little surprised with myself, for having even gone in the first place. I'm not used to being away from my family. Also, my typical idea of an island getaway is more along the lines of a 5-star resort in Bali, Bintan or Phuket. Not Pulau Ubin, a quiet island with a population of only about 100 villagers.

Then again, I had not gone to Pulau Ubin for a "holiday". I had gone for a writing retreat. There were two instructors and twelve participants. The retreat was intended for experienced writers only.

Nearly all of us had previously written at least one book each, and some of us had written several. A few were professional writers (i.e their full-time job was to edit or write for newspapers, magazines or other publications). The members of the Ubin 12 (as we jokingly called ourselves) included past and present winners of various literary awards, including the Young Artist of the Year Award for Literature; the Singapore Literature Prize, and the Golden Point Award.

The retreat was very, very interesting for me. I would love to blog a lot about it. However, I have to somewhat restrain myself. That's because all the writers agreed, on day one, to a concept of "shared privacy".

Over the next five days, as we collectively explored new writing ideas, styles and techniques, we would go on to hold workshops and discussions. Topics that came up included race, religion, politics, sexuality, history, society, family relationships, censorship, crime, violence and more. The individual writers shared their own experiences, some quite personal. Hence the need for shared privacy - "What happens on Ubin, stays on Ubin", as one participant put it.

I did take the chance to bike around and explore Pulau Ubin. It is actually quite an interesting island, and I'm a little embarrassed, as a Singaporean, that until this week, I knew so little about it. I visited places like Chek Jawa, which was fascinating for its bio-diversity; and the little German Girl Shrine, which has an interesting story as to its origin. Pulau Ubin also has a mountain bike park, with trails of varying difficulty, to challenge dirt bikers with different levels of skill and courage.

I also had two mini-Discovery Channel moments - the first was watching two dogs gang up to chase a wild pig; and the second was watching a monitor lizard munch on a pigeon.

Poor Quality of Media Reporting

2009-10-12T15:28:00.005+08:00

I don't know why the local media's standards are so low. I am not trying to be nitpicky, but I do regularly see errors, inaccuracies and poor sub-editing in the local media, and it's just appalling. Here's one example:

ST Oct 12, 2009
Women's World Cup
Feng Tianwei in 3rd place
By Lin Xinyi

NATIONAL paddler Feng Tianwei will have to settle for a third-place play-off at the Women's World Cup after losing to China's world No. 2 Guo Yue in the semi-finals on Monday morning.

The world No. 7 went down 8-11, 11-5, 10-12, 11-8, 6-11, 8-11 in just under an hour at the Guangzhou Gymnasium.

Feng, who finished third in this event last year, will need to beat defending champion and world No. 3 Li Xiaoxia of China on Monday night to repeat that result.

The title is wrong. Feng Tianwei is NOT in 3rd place. If you read the article, you will see that actually, Feng Tianwei will be playing tonight in the play-off match for 3rd place, against Li Xiaoxia of China.

That means that Feng Tianwei will be in 3rd place, if she wins tonight.

Not Home

2009-10-12T09:37:00.004+08:00

"Not Home" is a poem of mine that was first published in Cha: An Asian Literary Journal. The poem also appears in my book Two Baby Hands which was released in June this year.

The poem is short but psychologically complex. I usually prefer to create simpler poems that are more accessible to the general reader. So Not Home was somewhat experimental for me.

Not Home

Interestingly, I've just been told that A Cup of Fine Tea has recently done a critique of the poem. The piece is co-written by Tammy Ho and Jeff Zroback. They have pretty much "caught" the essence of the poem. Here's an excerpt of their commentary:

Children can be so cruel. This is certainly the case in Koh’s “Not Home”. The cruelty of children often arises from their innocence of the world and self-absorption, characteristics demonstrated by the persona in the poem. In the poem’s opening, we see a young person playing alone outside: ‘I was eight, and alone. / Waiting in the garden I talked / to trees. Seeds sprouted. / Crickets sang’ (L1-L4). The whole scene is written to reflect the child’s state of mind. The lines are deliberately short and jump between foci, revealing a child’s short attention span. We also see a young person’s imagination at work in phrases such as ‘I talked to trees’. But it is the imagination of a particularly lonely child; one forced to take refuge in a make-believe world after being excluded from the real one.

The reason the child is alone (whether by choice or by adult instruction) becomes clear in the next sentence: ‘In the house / Grandma lay dying’ (L4-L5). The persona then takes his or her frustration out on a helpless creature: ‘Caught an insect, held it / in my hand. Plucked a leg off’ (L6-L7). This is not just blind violence but is an act motivated by a strange and disturbing kind of childish logic: ‘Plucked a leg off, / as I softly sang. Very cruel, / very bad. Surely Papa would / come home, if I were bad’ (L7-L10). That the persona’s aggression may stem from violence he or she has suffered is apparent in the suggestion that the father would ‘Make me hurt, for being bad’ (L11). There is a terrific unsentimentality and complexity here. The child craves the father’s attention; however, this attention is likely to be violent, suggesting that in some way the child wants to be hurt.

Despite the child’s wishes, the father does not return. The youngster, however, continues to torture the insect in hopes of attracting the parent: ‘One more leg then, and another. / Time crawled. I lost count. / Finally there were no more legs, / but papa wasn’t home’ (L12-L15). There is perhaps a lapse of voice in the phrase ‘Time crawled’ as it is unlikely that a child would use this expression. Regardless, its use proves apt, providing as it does a nice contrast to the insect slowly losing its own ability to crawl while its limbs are torn off ....

For the rest of the article, click here.

Challenges on the Job Front

2009-10-06T16:52:00.003+08:00

I found this article on the Little Speck website:

Immigration
A resentful citizenry
Singaporeans are not annoyed by their arrival, but the overwhelming numbers and sometimes having to play second fiddle to them.
By Seah Chiang Nee.
Sept 26, 2009

AN ELECTRONICS firm that advertised last week for a “preferably non Singaporean” engineer has added fuel to a worsening controversy in this migrant city.

It particularly stipulated that “permanent residents are welcome” to apply for this “mid-career job (salary negotiable)”.

A copy of the advertisement found its way onto the web.

Applicants should have a diploma or a relevant trade certificate, with 3-5 years’ work experience, and “preferably non-Singaporean (PR welcome),” it added.

This provoked strong reactions from Singaporeans who are already upset at the large number of foreigners allowed to work here.

One asked if such discrimination is legal. “This sort of ad would have landed this company in heavy trouble in most developed states,” he added.

Another writer said: “Now we know where we stand. The policy has downgraded Singaporeans to below foreigners.”

You can read the rest of the article here. Of course, it does not really surprise me. For years, Singapore has been moving steadily in the pro-foreigner / anti-citizen direction.

I'm not going to bitch or moan about it. Yes, I do think that the PAP government has repeatedly made some bad mistakes. Still, we're not the only country in the world with stupid politicians. Each of us just needs to find a way to move on, adapt and survive - notwithstanding the government's errors.

No point complaining about it. Just take the PAP as another challenge in life you need to overcome. Take your small, steady steps to deal with it.

Here's one small, steady step I took. I updated the "personal particulars" section of my resume. It indicates that although I am a male Singaporean, the SAF does not call me up to go for annual NS duties (due to medical reasons).

On the career front, this helps me to avoid the kind of discrimination highlighted in this old post of mine - NS and Employment. (Incidentally, that post dates back to 2006. That simply goes to show how none of these issues are new).

Academic Success and Socio-Economic Status in Singapore

2009-10-01T15:47:00.009+08:00

ST Oct 1, 2009
Kids can excel with right strategy, says parent from working class

I READ with interest the news and views regarding whether housing type and financial wealth affect how well students do academically, and would like to offer my perspective.

I have two children of average academic ability pursuing the Integrated Programme (IP), and I am a working mother living in an HDB flat in the heartland.

What is important in getting children to excel is a combination of parents:

- Showing an interest in learning how the education system works;
- Thinking and proactively developing a strategy and path for their children; and
- Devoting time and effort to realise that strategy.

Let me illustrate.

Getting into a primary school of choice: Since getting into a primary school of choice depends, among other things, on distance of home from school, parents can select a home (including HDB flats) within the 1km mark. Choosing a primary school affiliated to a good secondary school, or a Special Assistance Plan school where students are drilled in Higher Chinese from a young age, will enhance the child's chances of doing well in the Primary School Leaving Examination (PSLE).

Getting into a secondary school of choice: Unless your child is very academically inclined and likely to score 255 points or more in the PSLE to get into an IP school, think what other options are available to get him admitted, apart from the academic route. Consider the co-curricular activity (CCA) route for Direct School Admission - sports, arts and so on.

Do you need to be wealthy and living in private property to take this route? Not necessarily. For example, if you want your child to offer competitive swimming at his secondary school, you can sign him up for the competitive swimming programme that is taught at public swimming pools. The monthly fee is in the low two digits and the quality of training is high.

If your child is not inclined towards sports, there are other avenues, such as uniformed groups or robotics. These are all CCAs offered in primary school and cost next to nothing to join.

What I want to say is this - do not be hung up on the idea that you must be wealthy or live in private property for your child to succeed in school. If you have this mindset and rub it off on your children, it may become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I am a heartlander from the working class, my children are not academically very bright, but they managed to get into the IP through the strategy I have outlined. If my children can do it, there are many others out there who can too.

This is my note of encouragement to all of you.

Lim Chiu Mei (Ms)

She studied the system, she learned the rules and it looks like she's played the game well, so far anyway. Congratulations to Chiu Mei and her children. A good strategy is indeed important for doing well in school (not to mention in life generally).

Of course, the richer you are, the easier it is, to follow through with a good strategy.

For example, Chiu Mei said that to get a child into a good primary school, the parents can "select a home (including HDB flats) within the 1km mark" of the school. Chiu Mei was referring to the school admissions rules that give higher priority to children who live near the school.

However, most of Singapore's top primary schools are located in exclusive neighbourhoods. For example, Nanyang Primary School and Raffles Girl Primary School are at Bukit Timah. Most homes in that area are big bungalows and high-end condominiums - not HDB flats.

It seems that Chiu Mei also went for the Direct Special Admissions strategy. This is a relatively new scheme. Primary 6 students who demonstrate high standards in some activity (for example, music or sports) can use this to try to gain a place in a good secondary school, even before taking their PSLE exams.

Each of the DSA schools is free to set its own criteria under the scheme. For example, if a particular secondary school wishes to establish a niche in music, it can decide to accept students wcho excel in choral singing, playing the violin etc. From Chiu Mei's letter, we can guess that her children secured their places in an IP school, by virtue of their swimming prowess.

The whole idea behind the DSA was to encourage all-rounded students (as opposed to students who excel only in their studies). In principle, I think that the DSA is a good idea. How it may backfire is that eventually, young kids will be pressured to excel not just in their academic studies, but in their chosen hobby.

My son is in Primary One this year. For his school CCA, he's doing Speech & Drama. Unlike most CCAs in my own day, his Speech & Drama activity follows a proper, structured programme. In fact, next month my son will be taking his first exam in Speech & Drama. An external examiner from Trinity-Guildhall in London will be flying into Singapore to conduct the exam.

If my son sticks with Speech & Drama for the next four or five years, he can expect to take more exams and collect his certificates. That might eventually help him to gain DSA admission into a good secondary school. Once he's in, I guess that there will be some "moral obligation" for him to represent the school in activities like debating or drama.

I feel that all of this is worthwhile, if my son continues to enjoy Speech & Drama. Currently, he does. I hope that it stays that way.

It may be relevant to point out that I have to pay extra money for my son to take part in Speech & Drama, and a separate set of fees for him to take the exams. While I can easily afford this money, not all HDB heartlanders will be able to do the same.

In this sense, the DSA scheme does disadvantage kids from poorer families. These are the families which don't have the spare cash to send the child for ballet classes, golf lessons or piano lessons.

Citizens in the Vice Trade Up Against Strong Foreign Competition

2009-09-15T09:53:00.005+08:00

ST Sep 15, 2009
Tougher rules for new hotels
By Kor Kian Beng

THE Government will come down hard on new hotels that rent rooms by the hour, as it tightens the rules for these places which are often seen as hotbeds of prostitution.

Newcomers applying for an operating licence have to justify why they are offering such rates. In addition, they have to install closed-circuit television systems, and hire guards to preserve the safety of their guests and look out for possible illegal activities.

Hoteliers with an eye on offering such rooms in residential areas will face an even harder time. They are required 'to engage the community and respond to concerns of residents', said Mr S. Iswaran, Senior Minister of State for Trade and Industry, without elaborating.

He announced the new measures in Parliament on Monday. Singapore Tourism Board's director of resource development, Ms Rebecca Lim, said the new rules take effect immediately but apply only to new hotels.

In the debates about foreigners versus citizens in Singapore, the sad plight of our local prostitutes is often neglected.

In the first place, the fact that you've chosen to be a prostitute will often mean that you're already hard-pressed to find any better way of making a living. Unfortunately, nowadays you not only have to compete with other Singaporean prostitutes, you also have to compete with prostitutes from different countries.

And the competition is growing.

When I was a DPP many years ago, I would come across criminal cases involving foreign prostitutes every now and then. (Prostitution itself is not a crime in Singapore - however, prostitutes tend to show up in criminal cases from time to time, either as victims or witnesses). Back then, foreign prostitutes tended to be either from Thailand or the Philippines. Nowhere else, really.

Nowadays, the Thais and the Filipinas are still here, but there are also foreign prostitutes from a much more international background. Even Wikipedia, the world's most popular online encyclopaedia, comments on the wide range of prostitutes' nationalities at Orchard Towers - "They are primarily from Vietnam, Thailand, Philippines, Indonesia, Russia, Ukraine and a few from mainland China and South America".

The ladies from China even give newspaper interviews now and then. And the wide selection of nationalities available at Geylang recently won praise from a German expatriate.

How did all these women get here? It cannot be the case that the Singapore government has not noticed their presence. Perhaps the PAP has been too liberal with its foreign talent policies.

Medical School and the Uselessness of Being A Citizen

2009-09-12T14:10:00.002+08:00

Not too long ago, I gave an example of how Singapore discriminates against its own citizens, in favour of foreigners, when providing opportunities for higher education. The New Paper picked up the story, and followed up by interviewing the Vice-Dean of the NUS Law Faculty.

J, a reader of my blog, just emailed me to share his own story. J's account relates to his own application to Duke-NUS Graduate Medical School (which is located at the Singapore General Hospital but is part of NUS).

Based on what J says, this does not really strike me as an example of Singapore discriminating against Singaporean students, in favour of foreign students. This is more an example of the authorities treating foreigners and Singapore citizens exactly on par (in other words, citizenship has no advantages). It is also an example of the Singaporean tax-payer's money being used to pay for the education of foreigners.

It's important to understand that unlike, say, Harvard in the United States, NUS is not a private university, operating on its own private funds. If NUS were a private university, then it should be fully entitled to make its own decisions as to whose education it wants to subsidise. However, NUS is funded by taxpayers' money (YOUR money, and mine).

Therefore I feel that it's important that this issue receives some scrutiny. Well, at least my blog will help to raise some public awareness.

Anyway, J's email is reproduced in full below. I've made a few editorial changes, mainly for clarity (and also to make J's identity less traceable).

Hi Mr Wang,

I read your post on education in singapore some time back. Recently, I have been busy with my application to Duke-Nus Graduate Medical School. It is the second medical school in singapore and is funded by the Ministry of Health. They conducted a series of admission seminars recently ... I [also] had a long chat with the admissions officer ....

From both the seminar and the admission officer i came to know that:

(1) there are thousands of applicants each year with a very significant proportion of students from overseas

(2) there are NO QUOTAS reserved for singaporeans

(3) foreigners ARE eligible for our tuition fee loan of up to 90% of course fees.

(4) Foreigners CAN serve their bond in their countries if their families are not in singapore (although this is subject to approval, it makes you wonder why bond them at all?)

.... I really begin to wonder if my very own country whom I had sworn to protect when I was 18 is really worthy of my protection.

Regards,
J

Mediums and Channels - A Look at Some Other Worlds

2009-09-10T09:29:00.011+08:00

ST Sep 10, 2009
Need for more education and understanding of Taoism

I REFER to Tuesday's report, 'Teen medium 'made suicide pact with six friends' '. It grieves me, as a fellow Singaporean and a Taoist, that two young people lost their lives in such a manner.

Mediums, or tangki as they are known in Taoism, have existed in Chinese history for the past few thousand years. Mediumism is a form of Taoist 'art'. Many are fascinated by its mysterious facade but, at the same time, such reports never fail to add to its negative image in modern society.

The deaths of the two teenagers heighten an urgent need for more education in Taoism, as well as the need for Taoist practitioners, followers and devotees to further understand the religion itself.

Tay Hung Yong

Mediumship is a common aspect of Taoism. Every year, in modern Singapore, there are public events where you can see Taoist mediums at work. Some of these events attract large crowds (hundreds of people). This link provides extensive information about tang ki practices in Singapore.

Also, on the same topic, here is a book in English - Ritual is Theatre, Theatre is Ritual: Tang-ki: Spirit Medium Worship. The book is not of a sensationalist nature, but is a genuine attempt to document the local tang ki culture (including the weird stuff). In fact, the author Margaret Chan based the book on her PhD dissertation at the University of London.

One caveat here. I believe that even if any particular type of paranormal activity (not just mediumship) is genuine, in practice there may be many instances where it's just a charlatan at work, or where the persons involved are just mistaken or mentally ill. So it is best to remain critical.

I also believe that in general, any genuine paranormal phenomenon should transcend cultural borders. The phenomenon would not be limited to, say, a specific ethnic group living in a particular part of the world, and having a particular set of cultural practices and beliefs. For example, in my preceding post, I had discussed near-death experiences. If NDEs were reported only by, say, villagers from Papua New Guinea who practise animist religion, then that is a reason to doubt the authenticity of NDEs. On the other hand, if NDEs are a worldwide phenomenon, and if they are reported by people of different ages, races and religions (and also by atheists), then this suggests that NDEs, whatever they are, are not merely the result of social/cultural conditioning.

(In case any of you are wondering, yes, NDEs are indeed reported globally by people of different ages, races and religions. And yes, staunch atheists have had NDEs too).

Back to mediumship. Does it transcend cultural borders? Well, mediumship in Taoism comes with definite cultural trappings (eg specific rites, mantras, costumes etc). The following short documentary film - here - shows actual footage of tang ki's at work, in Singapore, and you can clearly see the influence of Chinese culture here.

However, mediumship does definitely transcend cultural borders. In some other parts of the world, it is more commonly known as channelling. I have come across modern-day (actual or alleged) examples of mediumship/channelling in countries as diverse as Kenya, Brazil, Taiwan and the United States.

Some channels and mediums are quite public personalities - they write books, participate in conferences and regularly allow themselves to be filmed. In one instance that I'm aware of, the channel (Joao de Deus, nicknamed John of God) allowed scientists from Harvard to measure his brainwave frequencies while he was channelling his "angels". The results shocked the scientists, because his brainwave frequencies were completely normal before and after he commenced channelling, but were accelerated to highly abnormal levels while he was actually channelling.

The channelling phenomenon is sometimes just that - a purported spirit comes through, and begins to speak and answer questions, through the medium's body, often in an altered voice, and often delivering information which the medium himself seems unlikely to have had any way of knowing. However, quite regularly, a variety of other paranormal phenomena may occur at the same time. For example, in Taoist mediumship, the medium may allow himself to be hit or beaten with instruments such as a metal rod or even knives, and yet he will apparently suffer no pain and his body will show no signs of injury.

You may recall that recently, the Singapore courts had to deal with the bizarre case of Amutha Valli and the pastor at Novena church. Amutha, an Indian woman now in her 50s, had apparently been able, since the age of 12, to regularly go into trances and channel some kind of "snake spirit". She would then hiss and slither like a snake. In the late 1980s, the entire team of psychiatrists at the National University Hospital had already seen her.

The court case, spanning two years, involved Amutha suing the pastor at Novena Church, for some trauma she had allegedly suffered, while he was performing an exorcism on her. It was a long, complicated case which received a lot of media publicity. In the end, Amutha lost, on the ground that she could not prove that the pastor had actually caused any damage or harm to her.

I also see the "speaking in tongues" phenomenon in Christianity as another example of channelling/mediumship. This phenomenon continues to exist today and is ancient - the Bible itself describes it. Of course, the Holy Spirit is the entity being channelled there. Channelling (or mediumship) continues to be regularly practised in Christianity today, in an entire branch of Christianity known as the Spiritualist Church.

I don't know what other mediums and channels may be channelling. From the different accounts, it seems that a wide range of different entities come through. Some could be powerful and benevolent, some could be stupid but harmless, some could be ... dangerous and evil.

Many entities which do come through (assuming that that's what really happening) seem willing to state their names, introduce themselves and explain their own background. Some are happy to do extensive Q&A sessions too (including the local tang ki's and their spirits). In the US, Lee Carroll channels an entity which calls itself Kryon. Kryon was invited to give a speech, and did indeed give a speech, to a United Nations delegation in New York City in March 2006.

For my next post, I may briefly discuss what happens if the mediumship process becomes involuntary, and the spirit will not leave the medium's body. If I do discuss that, I will refer to a certain recent book written by a psychiatrist. In this book, the psychiatrist explains the difference between mental illness and demonic possession, and extensively describes two cases of demonic posession which he personally witnessed, studied and filmed.

Before anyone starts scoffing, I should say that this particular psychiatrist's qualifications include a B.A. degree magna cum laude from Harvard College; and an M.D. degree from the Case Western Reserve University School of Medicine. He was also formerly the Assistant Chief of Psychiatry and Neurology Consultant to the Surgeon General of the US Army, and had attained the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel, before resigning to pursue a career in private practice.

My main point here is that the man's personal credentials are very solid. This doesn't mean that we should necessarily believe everything he says. But it does mean that it could be imprudent to immediately dismiss him as an outright quack.

The Necessity of A Physical Brain For the Existence of Consciousness

2009-09-04T10:07:00.007+08:00

I admit to being in a somewhat mischevious mood. Then again, my blog has always been thought-provoking. :D

ST Sep 3, 2009
Devotees pray for the dead
By Yen Feng

WHETHER it was the sight of more than 5,000 altars filling the great hall or the memory of a dear family member, no one could be sure.

But it was enough to draw tears from the thousands of devotees who bowed their heads in prayer at the Kong Meng San Phor Kark See Monastery, off Sin Ming Avenue, on Thursday.

From noon to 9pm, Buddhists took part in Ullambana, the annual traditional custom of praying for departed family members on the 15th day of the seventh lunar month.

Temple staff said more than 5,000 requests had been put in this year by devotees to set up the temporary altars. It took volunteers three days to complete the spectacular ceremonial hall, filled with rows of identical tables brimming with sweet offerings.

Praying to the dead provides consolation for the living. Apart from that, the prayers serve no purpose. After all, the dead are already ... dead. Right?

Well, let us take a few moments to seriously examine this matter. Why might we believe that death is the end of our brief existence? Probably because we think that consciousness is dependent on the physical brain. If the brain has failed and begun to rot away, then that's presumably the end of the story.

But wait. What if the existence of consciousness is not dependent on the brain?

One good starting point for analysis may be the near-death experience. They used to be rare, but interestingly, are said to have become much more common ever since the development of modern cardiac resuscitation methods.

NDEs are a certain range of experiences that some people report having, at the time when they were clinically dead or otherwise very close to death. (Of course, they only report these experiences after they've been successfully saved, for example, by doctors in the emergency ward). What is an NDE like? Here's an excerpt from Wikipedia:

The traits of a classical NDE are as follows:

- The notice of a very unpleasant sound or noise.
- A sense/awareness of being dead.
- A sense of peace, well-being and painlessness. Positive emotions. A feeling of being removed from the world.
- An out-of-body experience. A perception of one’s body from an outside position. Sometimes observing doctors and nurses performing medical resuscitation
efforts.
- A "tunnel experience". A sense of moving up, or through, a passageway or staircase.
- A rapid movement toward and/or sudden immersion in a powerful light. Communication with the light.
- An intense feeling of unconditional love.
- Encountering "Beings of Light", "Beings dressed in white", or other spiritual beings. Also, the possibility of being reunited with deceased loved ones
- Being given a life review.
- Being presented with knowledge about one's life and the nature of the Universe.
- A decision by oneself or others to return to one’s body, often accompanied by a reluctance to return.
- Approaching a border.

In the more dramatic NDE cases, the person even reports floating out of his body, and being able to observe, in very specific terms, what was happening at the accident scene/hospital ward; his account is then later verified by other eyewitnesses.

Although NDEs are uncommon, they are common enough for some of their characteristics to have crept into our everyday language. For example, you have probably come across phrases such as "the light at the end of the tunnel" or "I saw my whole life flash before my eyes". These are literal descriptions of some characteristics of NDEs.

The most obvious challenge to NDEs is, of course, that they are hallucinations, nothing more than the crazy, addled perceptions of a person whose brain is all mucked-up, because he was already dying.

But let me offer an excerpt of a counter-argument by a researcher on the topic. Dr Peter Fenwick is, among other things, Consultant Neuropsychiatrist emeritus at the Maudsley Hospital in the UK; Senior Lecturer at the Institute of Psychiatry; and Consultant Neuropsychiatrist at the Radcliffe Infirmary Oxford; and Honorary Consultant Clinical Neurophysiologist at Broadmoor Hospital. Here's Fenwick, in his own words:

"So, now we come to the really important question: what happens when an NDE
occurs during a cardiac arrest, and why is this important?

The first point is that signs of cardiac arrest are the same as clinical death. There is no detectable cardiac output, no respiratory effort, and brainstem reflexes are absent. If you are in this state and I put a tube down your throat, you will not cough. You will have dilated pupils. Your blood pressure has fallen to zero. You are, in fact, clinically dead. Even if I start cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR), I cannot get your blood pressure any higher than 30 millimetres of mercury, and this is not going to produce an adequate blood flow to your brain.

A number of studies show that the longer CPR is continued, the more brain damage occurs. So it is not an ideal intervention. We know that after a cardiac arrest, both NDErs and non-NDErs suffer brain damage, but we do not know whether the amount of brain damage in the two groups is the same or different. During CPR, you are not going to be able to perfuse – that is, force an adequate amount of blood through – the brain. When the heart does finally start, the blood pressure rises, and there is a slow resumption of circulation and lots of technical reasons why your brain function does not return instantly. And the point to remember is that your mental state during recovery is confusional.

What should be clear to you now is that it is not a good thing to have a heart attack. In their 1999 study of cardiac arrest and brain damage, Graham Nichol and his colleagues found that out of 1,748 cardiac arrests patients, only 126 survived (Nichol, Stiell, Hebert, Wells, Vandemheen, and Laupacis, 1999). Most units range between 2 and 20 percent resuscitation rates. Eighty-six of Nichol’s survivors were interviewed, and most of the people who were resuscitated had evidence of brain damage.

Simultaneous recording of heart rate and brain output show that within 11 seconds of the heart stopping, the brainwaves go flat. Now, if you read the literature on this, some sceptical people claim that in this state there is still brain activity, but, in fact, the data are against this in both animals and humans. The brain is not functioning, and you are not going to get your electrical activity back again until the heart restarts.

The flat electroencephalogram (EEG), indicating no brain activity during cardiac arrest, and the high incidence of brain damage afterwards both point to the conclusion that the unconsciousness in cardiac arrest is total. You cannot argue that there are ‘‘bits’’ of the brain that are functioning; there are not. There is a confusional onset and offset, and there is no brain-based memory functioning. Everything that constructs our world for us is, in fact, ‘‘down.’’ There is no possibility of the brain creating any images. Memory is not functioning during this time, so it should be impossible to have clearly structured and lucid experiences, and because of brain damage, memory should be significantly impaired, and you should not be able to remember any experiences which occurred during that time."

In layman's terms, what is Fenwick saying? Firstly, he referrs to NDE cases involving cardiac arrest patients. In these cases, the brain completely stops working and there should be no way that it can enable the patient to continue experiencing anything. Even if the patient does have any experience, he should not be able to remember it and report it later. That's because his memory has already stopped functioning. After all, the person's brain has shut down completely.

The fact however is that cardiac arrest patients can and do have NDEs. During these NDEs, they hear, see, move, feel and think (or distinctly perceive themselves doing so). They may even perceive themselves as having conversations with "Beings of Light"or long-deceased relatives. All of these perceptions indicate that the patient's consciousness is still operating very actively. Furthermore the patient is later able to remember his experience om detail, and can give a clear, lucid account of it. This indicates that his memory was still functioning at the time when his brain had shut down.

What does this suggest?

That ... consciousness can exist without a physical brain.

The Oddness of Thoughts and The Illusion of Free Will

2009-09-02T23:02:00.009+08:00

Recently, a colleague said that since I am "very experienced" in writing poems, I must find it "very easy" to write new poems. This is untrue. With more experience, I do find it easier to edit a poem. Editing is a technical skill and one gets better at it, with practice. But the creation of a new poem remains, for me at least, as difficult as it has ever been.

This is because to create a new poem, you need inspiration, which comes when it comes, and goes when it goes. It's extremely unpredictable. Inspiration is not a matter of skill or experience and it is beyond the poet's control. At best, you can spend more time waiting in front of a blank computer screen, so that when inspiration does come, you are ready to seize it, type fast and make a new poem.

Thoughts (not just poetic thoughts, or creative thoughts, but thoughts in general) are very odd things. Most people never realise this. That's because they have never really spent time observing their own thoughts. In fact, the only people I know who regularly observe their own thoughts are people who meditate (and they are a minority).

If you meditate, you will quickly learn that the human mind is one big mess. Most of the time, it does not function in any manner that can remotely be described as logical or systematic. Instead the mind hops randomly from topic to topic, sometimes operating in words, sometimes with images, often moving in circles, often contradicting itself, and easily getting pulled in different directions by sensory data.

On a 20-minute MRT ride, your mind can easily talk to itself about 10 different topics, without producing even one useful idea or one new conclusion. It can flit from past to present to future, from memory to imagination to fantasy, within the space of two seconds. You are not in control. The mind runs itself. It secretes thoughts, much like the way a gland secretes hormones. It's an invisible organic process. Most human beings have as much control over their own minds as they do over their own glands - that is to say, hardly any control at all.

What has all this got to do with free will?

There was a neuroscientist - his name was Benjamin Libet. He hooked people up to an electroencephalogram (EEG) machine, which showed what was happening in their brains. Libet's experiments revealed that a surge of brain activity took place before the person had the conscious intention to do something. This suggests that the intention was not consciously formulated, but rather came from the unconscious, and then entered conscious awareness, and that furthermore, by this time, the decision whether to carry out the intention was already made.

Libet's experiment means that unconscious processes in the brain are the true initiator of volitional acts, and free will plays no part in their initiation. There is no free will. The following excerpt from this article will help to explain:

Coffee or tea with lunch? Which pants to wear to work? Which movie to watch? Your mind might be made up before you know it. Researchers have found patterns of brain activity that predict people's decisions up to 10 seconds before they're aware they've made a choice.

In the 1980s, psychologist Benjamin Libet of the University of California, San Francisco, caught people's brains jumping the gun on consciousness. A few hundred milliseconds before a person thought he or she decided to press a button, brain areas related to movement were already active. The result was hard for some to stomach because it suggested that the unconscious brain calls the shots, making free will an illusory afterthought.

In other words, you never have free will. You can put down your pen, wave your arms, sing a song or sell your shares. But you never get to decide to do these things. You only perceive yourself as making the decision. In truth, the decision was already made, even before you perceived yourself as making it.

By analogy, you are like a robot which falsely perceives itself as having artificial intelligence and decision-making ability. In fact, the robot is completely controlled by a secret software program which the robot does not even suspect exists.

More later, perhaps.

Religion, God & Other Separate Matters

2009-08-27T16:25:00.002+08:00

Thanks to PM Lee's NDR speech, the media has been churning out article after article, for weeks, on the topic of religion.

This is ironic, considering that very few people may actually believe in God.

You may think that I am being facetious here. After all, billions of people around the world believe in God.

But do they really?

I shall quote a conversation between a certain old man and a certain young man, in a novel which I shall not name. What the book title is, and who the author is, is less interesting than the point which the fictional old man makes:

The old man leaned toward me, resting a blanketed elbow on the arm of his rocker.

“Four billion people say they believe in God, but few genuinely believe. If people believed in God, they would live every minute of their lives in support of that belief. Rich people would give their wealth to the needy. Everyone would be frantic to determine which religion was the true one. No one could be comfortable in the thought that they might have picked the wrong religion and blundered into eternal damnation, or bad reincarnation, or some other unthinkable consequence. People would dedicate their lives to converting others to their religions.

“A belief in God would demand one hundred percent obsessive devotion, influencing every waking moment of this brief life on earth. But your four billion so-called believers do not live their lives in that fashion, except for a few. The majority believe in the usefulness of their beliefs—an earthly and practical utility—but they do not believe in the underlying reality.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “If you asked them, they’d say they believe.”

“They say that they believe because pretending to believe is necessary to get the benefits of religion. They tell other people that they believe and they do believer-like things, like praying and reading holy books. But they don’t do the things that a true believer would do, the things a true believer would have to do.

“If you believe a truck is coming toward you, you will jump out of the way. That is belief in the reality of the truck. If you tell people you fear the truck but do nothing to get out of the way, that is not belief in the truck. Likewise, it is not belief to say God exists and then continue sinning and hoarding your wealth while innocent people die of starvation. When belief does not control your most important decisions, it is not belief in the underlying reality, it is belief in the usefulness of believing.”

“Are you saying God doesn’t exist?” I asked, trying to get to the point.

“I’m saying that people claim to believe in God, but most don’t literally believe. They only act as though they believe because there are earthly benefits in doing so. They create a delusion for themselves because it makes them happy.”

“So you think only the atheists believe their own belief?” I asked.

“No. Atheists also prefer delusions,” he said.

I shall be taking a break from blogging, to turn to my other writing pursuits. See you in another week or so.

Language, Culture and the Chinese Singaporean

2009-08-26T13:45:00.007+08:00

I used to be very close to my grandmother. One night, long after she had passed away, I had a dream about her. Or rather, I dreamed that I was a child again, singing a Hokkien song that my grandmother had often sung with me, many years ago.

When I woke up, I tried to recall the song's lyrics. But I could not do it. Still I decided to write a poem about this dream. Years later, this poem formed part of a collection that won me a national literary award.

Children's Rhyme

This poem works on a few levels. At one level, it is a straightforward account of an actual dream, and what happened immediately thereafter.

At another level, the poem is about the loss of my grandmother. This loss is explored in the poem, via several metaphors. One such metaphor is the memory of a dream that slips away ("into the depths from which all dreams spring") and can't be recovered. Another such metaphor is the boy in the song itself, who keeps on climbing mountains, crossing rivers, searching for a home that he can't make it back to.

At a third level, the poem is social commentary. It refers to the Singapore government's systematic efforts to eradicate Chinese dialects in the country, which in turn led to a tragic cultural loss. Where do we see this?

Well, the poem is addressed to a "grandmother", and refers to a Hokkien song that "you gave me in your tongue". Later the song crumbles away, leaving behind "a word, a half-phrase, a fragment of a line, pieces of a broken whole". The sadness of this loss, and also the causes of this loss, are described in these lines:

I decided to post this today, because it's relevant to the current discussion on my preceding post (in its comment section). Hope you guys like the poem.

Education Choices in Singapore & Malaysia

2009-08-24T09:34:00.004+08:00

I had just been discussing international schools in Singapore. Now here's a Straits Times article discussing the situation in Malaysia:

ST Aug 24, 2009
More Malaysians turn to international schools
Demand up despite cost, as middle-class parents give up on local system
By Elizabeth Looi

KUALA LUMPUR: More middle-class Malaysians are enrolling their children in international schools despite long waiting lists, as parents grow increasingly frustrated with the local education system.

Up to 2006, the only Malaysians who could send their children to these schools were those who had lived abroad for at least three years, or had a foreign spouse.

An exception was those with businesses that could attract foreign direct investments for the country. These business owners were wealthy Malaysians.

Thus, there were not many local students enrolled in international schools. But since 2006 - when the rules were relaxed and international schools were allowed to enrol up to 40 per cent Malaysians - middle-class Malaysians have started placing their children in such schools, which have increased in number - from 32 three years ago to 40 now.

The number of Malaysian students has also gone up - from 2,608 among an estimated 10,000 students, or 26 per cent, in 2006, to 5,000 among an estimated 15,000 students, or 33 per cent, in 2009.

At least 20 more international schools are scheduled to open soon, according to school operators.

One reason some parents are transferring their children to international schools is the changes in the curriculum of the national schools.

One example: the decision last month to reverse the policy of teaching maths and science in English, which had been in effect for six years. Another change was when the government decided to limit the number of subjects students are allowed to take for their O-levels, compared with the unlimited number previously.

'The Education Ministry is very fickle-minded, they do not know what to do most of the time with the policies,' said property agent Tan Ching Suan, 49, who is unhappy with the constant changes in the local system.

So, even though the national schools are free of charge, she transferred her daughter to an international school two years ago.

More middle-class Malaysians have, like her, become willing to draw on their savings to send their children to the more expensive international schools. Some of them also work overseas or are highly mobile. Having their children in international schools makes it easier for them when they move from one country to another.

At one level, it's all simply about the (actual or perceived) inadequacies in the local school system. If the parents are able, they will naturally look for alternatives. After all, parents love their children and want the best for them. Simple as that.

I'm sure that some readers will want to say that Singapore's local school system is much better than Malaysia's. But that's not the point. Both systems have their own problems. One system may be better. But whichever country you happen to find yourself in, you will still want the best available opportunities for your children.

What's "best" also depends on the special circumstances of each child and his or her family. They can vary a lot from family to family. For example, MM Lee's grandson was dyslexic, and at the relevant time, the family decided that the Singapore American School would be the best choice for him. Why? Because the local schools lacked the expertise to help dyslexic students.

Other Singaporean families may be interested in international schools, for other reasons. Some possible & common reasons would be:

(1) they may think poorly of the Cambridge O and A-level syllabus that local schools typically use (in recent years, the reputation of the Cambridge syllabus has suffered badly);

(2) their child, if raised in a non-Chinese speaking family environment, may not be able to cope with the Chinese Language at the level which local schools teach it;

(3) they feel that the local school system is unnecessarily stressful and exam-oriented and tends to kill creativity and innovative thinking;

(4) as the world becomes more globalised, they feel that it is better for their child to be educated in an environment where he will interact with classmates of many different nationalities;

(5) the parents have future plans to emigrate or work overseas, so it is better for their child to start getting used to an international school environment;

(6) international schools tend to have a smaller student-to-teacher ratio (local schools are still mostly about 40 students to one teacher) and they feel that their child would benefit more from a smaller ratio.

In the long run, some of these problems could be fixed by improving the local education system, not necessarily for all local schools, but by having some of these local schools operate on a different model, thereby increasing the range of options available for parents and their children.

But if you are a parent and you need to register your child for a school next year, that's not much comfort.

Education, and Even More Discrimination Against Citizens

2009-08-20T15:01:00.015+08:00

ST Aug 20, 2009
Thanks, being a PR is good enough

IN RESPONSE to letters by Mr Jimmy Loke ('The PR difference', last Saturday) and Mr Chia Kok Leong ('No school, no Singapore', last Saturday), I would only ask them to refer to Minister Mentor Lee Kuan Yew's speech reported last Friday ('MM: Foreign talent is vital'), where he gave an idea of the benefits citizens have over permanent residents (PRs).

I am happy to be a PR and although we do not get equal benefits in housing and other respects, that is understandable. We understand the difference between a citizen and a PR.

But where our children are concerned, we just want them to have the best education possible and I think we are not asking much. Citizens have the upper hand in buying homes and other respects, which is justified, but where schooling is concerned, 'every child has the right to get the best education possible'.

About living here for six years and not taking citizenship, I think this is a very personal choice. I would just like to end this topic by saying we are not here to compete with citizens but there are certain things on which one cannot compromise and children's education is one of them. I think we are not asking much and we are grateful to the Government for understanding that for every parent, his child's welfare comes first.

I would like to thank Mr Loke and Mr Chia for inviting us to become citizens but for now, I am proud to be a citizen of my country and have PR status in Singapore.

Sweta Agarwal (Mrs)

The context of this letter is admission to primary schools. The process is highly competitive, for the top schools. PRs and Singaporeans are treated the same way in the admissions process (which leads some Singaporeans to complain).

Actually, that's incorrect. The deeper truth is that Singaporeans do not enjoy the same rights as PRs, as far as primary school admissions are concerned. Singaporeans are disadvantaged, vis a viz the PRs. Let me explain.

Some years ago, I went to a friend's home for a party. Mark is Australian by birth, and has since become a PR. He also had two sons, who were then of primary school age.

The two boys were not attending a local primary school. Instead they were attending an international school in Singapore. I can't remember exactly which one now - it could have been the Singapore American School, or perhaps it was the Australian International School.

Mark started to tell me about what his sons did in school, the kind of curriculum they had etc. His two sons also showed me their school projects, and photos of their school activities.

It struck me that in some ways, this international school was much better than the average local school. There was less emphasis on rote learning, memory work and exams. The children had more time for sports, cultural activities and field trips. It was a happier, more creative kind of learning environment.

I began to think that if I could, maybe I should also send my son to an international school, when he was old enough.

But I learned later that I could not.

PRs in Singapore can send their young children to a local primary school, or to an international school. The PRs have the right to choose. If they choose a local primary school, then they enjoy the same priority as Singaporean citizens, in the admissions process. Alternatively, PRs can send their children to an international school in Singapore, such as one of these:

Singapore American School
Australian International School
Canadian International School
Stamford American International School
Avondale Grammar School
Emaar International School
One World International School
EtonHouse International School
Overseas Family School
Tanglin Trust School
The Swiss School Singapore

However, Singaporean citizens do not have that option. They are not allowed to send their young children to international schools. Whether they like it or not, they must send their children to a local primary school. Not because the international schools reject Singaporeans. But because the Singapore government says so.

The Compulsory Education Act states that Singaporean parents must send their child, at age six, to attend a "national primary school". The rule is compulsory, and excludes international schools, and does not apply to PRs, but only to Singaporeans.

Therefore unlike PRs, Singaporeans do not have the option of sending their little children to an international school (instead of a local school). In fact, that would be a criminal offence. You could be sent to prison for up to one year.

Isn't it fun to be Singaporean? It's like being one of the heroes in Mission Impossible. There are booby traps everywhere you turn.

Time for another poem, from my book Two Baby Hands (which is available at Kinokuniya). This poem explains what I find disturbing, about the local education system. Sandra Davie, the ST journalist who writes about education, likes this particular poem a lot. Sandra told me so herself, when she came to my book launch and I was autographing her copy.

In Our Schools
Some are Special,
or Express. A few are
Gifted. The others
are merely Normal
(a polite lie).

All are classifiable,
like chemical compounds,
lists of Chinese
proverbs,
or lab specimens of
dead insects -
preserved, labelled,
pinned by a cold
needle
through the
unfeeling thorax.

On Race, Religion and Foreign Talent

2009-08-20T12:55:00.007+08:00

Another poem from my book:

Train Ride to Singapore

The train pulled out slowly
like a long sigh
and I saw from my window
how you stood alone at
the station platform
with hands in your pockets -
you refused to wave
but smiled a reluctant, sorry
kind of goodbye.

Five years ago we skipped
the bahasa melayu class
to play chor dai di
in the dirty, deserted
alley behind
Ah Hin's coffeeshop,
we talked about girls
and about all the
things we'd do
when we were old enough
to get a job or into
university -

things were so much
simpler then.
Now we understand that
the colour of skin
opens doors for some
in this country,
forever closes them
for others.
I'm going south
alone to chase a dream,
because I can,
you can't,
for this I'm sorry
and I really don't know
if I'm ever
coming back.

Some years ago, this poem drew the attention of Associate Professor Dr Nor Faridah Abdul Manaf, from the University of Malaya. Well at that time, she wasn't an associate professor yet. She was still working on her dissertation about race, religion and Asian literature. She discussed my poem above in her dissertation.

Train Ride to Singapore is written in the first person. However, it's not about me. It's really about Sam, a Malaysian friend of mine, who had come to Singapore to further his studies. The "you" in the poem is a friend of his, who didn't get that chance. Of course, the background to the poem is Malaysia's NEP, which discriminated against non-Malay citizens of Malaysia (among other things, in the area of access to university education).

I first got to know Sam, when we were neighbours in an NUS hostel. One day, Sam had shared with me his bittersweet reflections on leaving his home country, Malaysia. I promptly converted Sam's account into a poem - that's how I created Train Ride to Singapore.

Sam is still in Singapore today. He works as a private banker with Citigroup.

I have written many posts about foreigners in Singapore. I think sometimes this may give rise to the impression that I don't like the foreigners here. That's untrue. Many of my best friends are foreigners. Foreigners are human beings too. All human beings strive to find happiness and avoid suffering. They try to do the best they can for themselves. If that means going to live in another country, well then, that's what they'll do. You can't blame them for that.

To put it another way, the failings of the Singapore government are not the fault of the foreigners here. Many aspects of our government's FT policies are stupid, but the foreigners can't be blamed for that.

Incidentally, the National Library Board has bought more than 20 copies of my poetry book, Two Baby Hands, and put them at different branches around Singapore. So you don't have to buy the book - you can borrow it too.

Recommended Blog

2009-08-19T11:32:00.005+08:00

So there's this person, Cai Ming Jie, who has a PhD from Stanford University. For 16 years, he was a researcher with the Institute of Molecular and Cell Biology, which is part of A*STAR. Last May, he was made redundant. He wasn't able to find any other job, despite sending out many applications.

So this year, he's become a taxi driver.

I just browsed through his blog - A Singapore Taxi Driver's Diary. As the title suggests, it's mostly about the people he meets and the places he goes to, as he drives around Singapore.

I really like his writing. It's honest, observant, authentic and has a lot of genuine local flavour. His blog entries almost inspire me to start writing my next poetry book.

Do check out his blog.

More on the Scholarship Matter

2009-08-19T09:09:00.009+08:00

A journalist from The New Paper has emailed me about my earlier post here. She would like to interview me and write an article about the matter.

Sorry, Pei Shan, I decline. But do feel free to quote my blog. Anyway, the key facts speak for themselves. You can also call up the Law Faculty or the NUS Admissions Office to ask more questions.

As a matter of fact, why limit yourself to the NUS Law Faculty? Go ask some harder (and wider) questions, about how much of Singapore's taxpayers' money is spent each year, to pay school fees for students from China, India, Malaysia, Indonesia, Vietnam .... anywhere but Singapore.

I'll just say a little more about why I had been interested in doing a Masters in Law at NUS. I am a Singapore-qualified lawyer, which means that I've been formally trained and educated in the laws of Singapore. However, nowadays my work is quite international. It is therefore very useful for me to understand more about the laws in other countries, especially the Asian ones.

The best university in the world to study Asian laws is probably NUS. Not Harvard, not Cambridge, not Stanford. It's NUS, because it's right here in Asia, and it has dedicated itself towards building expertise in Asian legal systems. For example, the NUS Law Faculty offers subjects such as:

The Contemporary Indian Legal System
Chinese Corporate and Securities Law
Foreign Investment Law in Vietnam
Japanese Corporate Law & Governance
Islamic Law
Introduction to Indian Business Law
International & Comparative Law of Sale in Asia
Chinese Legal Tradition and Legal Chinese

These are useful, practical subjects for lawyers in Singapore. Why? Because Singapore is always aiming to be a regional hub in this, or a regional hub in that. Therefore Singaporean lawyers frequently need to work on cross-border/foreign matters, and that's why they need to know more about laws in other Asian countries.

Unfortunately, when Singaporean lawyers want to apply for a scholarship to upgrade their skills at NUS, they will be discriminated against. Just for being Singaporean.

That's just too bad ... for Singapore.

PM Lee's Strangely Empty Rally Speech

2009-08-17T17:56:00.006+08:00

I had expected to be blogging about PM Lee's rally speech today. However, I find that I have almost nothing to say about it.

It was .... substanceless.

The PM's rally speech is traditionally the time for him to announce important new developments, ideas and policies for the nation. But this year, none of that happened.

Instead all PM Lee really talked about was racial and religious harmony, and in a way that contained nothing new. It sounded the same as the nation-building chapters of my Primary 3 Chinese language textbook, many, many years ago.

Last Friday, a Lianhe Zaobao reporter had actually emailed me with a list of interview questions. He had been planning to write an article about how the government was using "new media" to reach out to Singaporeans. One of the journalist's questions for me was as follows:

"(3) You will probably have your thoughts about PM's NDR after it's been delivered. In addition to publishing your views on your own website, would you consider emailing the relevant authorities or posting your comments via official channels such as the Reach facebook, forum or twitter, to tell the government how you feel about this year's rally speech?"

Well, my answer is no. I have no comments on what the PM actually said, because he hardly said anything at all.

I have a really odd feeling about this. I could be reading too much into it, but it almost feels like .... like he's deliberately choosing to avoid certain issues. The really important issues.

Pay Your Parents, Or Be Imprisoned

2009-08-17T16:39:00.005+08:00

ST Aug 17, 2009
Govt may act against children who dump their elderly parents
CHILDREN who dump their elderly parents in hospitals or nursing homes could be taken to task and forced to help pay for their parents' care.

The Government will study how best to use the Maintenance of Parents Act to get such children to do their filial duty, said Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong last night during his National Day Rally speech in Mandarin.

This came about after he met several nursing home managers who told him of old folk abandoned by their families.

The children of these old folk had said they would not care even if the homes decided to kick their parents out, he recounted. Some even changed the addresses on their identity cards so that they could not be located.

This will not do, said PM Lee, who also dismissed the line taken by some who say 'there is no filial son for long-term illness'.

My bet is that as the years go by, the Maintenance of Parents Act will gain greater and greater significance, as one of Singapore's social experiments.

Initially, the implementation would be mild-mannered. But over time, the authorities will become more and more aggressive in applying the Act.

After all, we have an aging population, and also a government whose policies and principles are quite firmly against providing social welfare. Yet you can't just let the old folks die in the streets.

The solution has to be this - force citizens to provide financial support for their aged parents.