I don’t typically use this newsletter to reshare stories from elsewhere, but this one felt too important to not share.

Why do the perpetrators behind “revenge porn” and non-consensual intimate images keep getting away with it? And why do the groups distributing such material keep coming back?

That's the subject of one of the most difficult stories I’ve ever written, which was published last weekend in The Straits Times and looks at how image-based sexual abuse has morphed through the decades in Singapore. Read the full story here.

Through the years, a familiar pattern has emerged. The rise of a new technology (such as blogs, instant messaging, social media platforms, or AI) has meant the emergence of new forms of abuse and harassment. While looking for interviewees, I was surprised to find someone who met their perpetrator through an IRC group.

All of this is something that tech platforms and the authorities have often been slow to respond to.

There are remarkable similarities between the experiences of the interviewees I spoke to who have been harassed or blackmailed with non-consensual intimate images in the 2000s (in the age of MSN and IRC) and in the 2020s (in a post-AI world): violation, isolation, and uncertainty about what to do against often-anonymous perpetrators.

For instance, Protection from Harassment Act (POHA) reports are difficult to file against harassers you don’t know the identity of. Platforms have inconsistent policies that make takedowns a challenging process. Those slapped with enforcement actions by platforms often re-upload the offending material elsewhere.

Perpetrators also operate with remarkable impunity. A group distributing image-based sexual abuse material of men that I first highlighted in 2025 (and which was again reported on in this story and a recent article by my colleague) holds lottery-style games awarding images to those who retweet their posts, likely in a bid to gain exposure to more potential clients.

When writing my story in 2026, I was taken aback by how this group continues to operate with such impunity, and appears to be something of an open secret among many queer men in Singapore.

Survivors/victims of image-based sexual abuse speaking to me say that they welcome the much-needed regulatory changes to address online sexual harms (such as the creation of a new online safety commission).

However, they also tell me that they have been the human cost of regulatory lag - or the gap of time between the emergence of a new criminal method and the implementation of effective oversight.

For tech platforms, the time taken to resolve a user complaint is just a figure. But for survivors/victims, it’s a delay that lingers on the psyche for years to come.

In April, I wrote a story about the internet restrictions faced by domestic workers in Singapore in a story headlined: ‘Not allowed to use the home Wi-Fi’: How domestic workers get online in Singapore.

TL;DR: Singapore is one of the most connected countries in the world (there are more wireless broadband subscriptions than there are people). However, connectivity is an entirely different story for the around 300,000 domestic workers who face restrictions like being barred from using the home WiFi, having their devices confiscated, or being asked to install tracking software.

A few days later, a maid agency appears to have used AI to convert this story into promotional copy for its own services.

The original work was not credited. And the human voices I’d interviewed were stripped away to create generic bullet points, some of it justifying why it might make sense to deny your domestic worker access to WiFi.

Sadly, this sort of thing isn’t unusual anymore.

The rise of Singapore slop

Just a month before, Singapore Esquire made global headlines for creating an AI-generated interview with the star of the Netflix live-action One Piece series, Mackenyu, when he wasn’t available for an actual interview.

The motivation was both strikingly commercial and creatively lazy:

The result is an AI Mackenyu who creates generic platitudes about fatherhood and the importance of drawing boundaries at work, as well as fabricated anecdotes about his father and dog.

Intense backlash aside, what I find most hilarious about the Esquire interview is that its author also wrote an opinion piece in January titled: “Unpopular Opinion: We Can’t Game The System. The cliché is right, good things do take time.”

This Esquire interview is just the latest manifestation in the mainstreaming of AI slop in Singapore, a country that has long been an early adopter of very questionable uses of the technology.

Last year, I reported on the growing trend of AI-generated slop being used for love scams targeting users in Singapore. All of this is part of a growing flood of AI-generated inauthentic material that is clogging up TikTok feeds and popular Singapore Facebook groups.

At around the same time, I also reported on a trend of property agents using deceptive AI-generated images for their property listings, often in reality-bending ways that could never work in that particular space.

I’m far from alone in noticing this. Social media is chock full of users expressing surprise at how widespread AI-generated slop has become, regardless of how appropriate it is for the context.

On Reddit, users express disbelief at food delivery app Grab’s use of disturbing and not at all flattering AI-generated images and descriptions for menu items. As this poster writes: “When have you ever seen such gigantic, plump and juicy seaweed chicken in your life?!”

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Earlier this year, polytechnic students were outraged when their schools turned to AI to create images and videos of students for their open houses for prospective students.

Many of these students rightly pointed out that such content should reflect “real students and real campus culture”, and that one could easily have turned to their schools’ many design students for better and more interesting output.

Apathy + Money = Slop

Everyone, including the author of the ill-fated Esquire interview, seems to understand that good things do take time, effort, and intentionality. So why is everyone – from your faceless big tech corporation to your unfriendly neighbourhood property agent – embracing such obviously slipshod AI-generated content?

A common strand in all the AI-generated slop scandals that I’ve noticed is how financial interest overlaps with not actually caring about the thing.

Generative AI becomes an easy way to check a box and say you did a thing that you don’t actually care about. Far from being the productivity enhancer that AI boosters say it is, AI more resembles an ultimate assistant for bullshit jobs that nobody wants to do.

As I’ve previously reported, agents and experts say what’s driving the use of AI-generated images in property listings is that there is often no budget for staging and sprucing up a space, making an image you can generate in under a minute an easy alternative.

Tech corporations’ financial motives are also intertwined with the rise of AI slop. A 2025 Reuters report found that Meta’s internal research estimates their platforms are involved in a third of all successful scams in the US – and that around 10 per cent of the company’s 2024 annual revenue comes from running advertisements for scams and banned goods.

When profit and engagement are the only metrics, is it any wonder then that so many industries are turning a blind eye to slop, even when it’s so obviously being used to deceive?

For all the public outcry over AI-generated property listings, marketing campaigns, and content in general, that controversy tends to fizzle out into a collective shrug.

Meta did not respond to my request for comments about the inauthentic material that I found on its platforms. However, after the story’s publication, a representative of the public relations firm retained by the company reached out to question my story referencing the above-mentioned Reuters investigation. Still no comment on the AI-generated fakery though.

PropertyGuru, a platform I reached out to over their AI-generated images in property listings, had a better response and removed the images I flagged. However, such imagery appeared to still be present without disclosure when I examined the platform weeks later.

This lack of meaningful consequences is part of why AI slop persists.

Those hoping that regulatory oversight might curb the flood of AI slop will be left wanting, because the government was an early mover in the AI slop domain.

In 2024, the Ministry of Finance made the brow-raising move to use “ugly” AI-generated images that are ”filled with errors” as part of a campaign promoting benefits for lower-income couples with children.

More recently, netizens were critical of a Public Utilities Board campaign which appeared to use imagery with artifacts indicative of AI generation. “Even govt departments dont want to support local talent,” writes one user in response.

In November, and in response to a parliamentary question about the need for clear disclosure of AI-generated images that make representation about products and services, Minister for Trade and Industry Gan Kim Yong writes:

To be clear, I’m not sure that disclosure alone is the solution here. Much of the AI slop that’s out there is self-evidently awful. Part of the issue surrounding slop is that nobody seems to care how awful it is, even with adequate disclosure.

Really, the AI slopification of Singapore is emblematic of one of the most Singaporean of feelings: apathy and indifference. Nobody cares as long as they’re still getting paid.

To me, this song is surprisingly apt at summing up how this all feels:

As it turns out, according to Glassdoor reviews, OGP — which had a rating of 3.9 out of 5 based on just over 40 reviews — rates higher than 60 government ministries and statutory boards, including its parent organisation GovTech, as of February.

Only 14 other ministries or statutory boards had ratings that equal or surpass it.

This analysis of Glassdoor data from February excludes the 23 organisations that had fewer than 30 reviews on the platform, leaving 58 in total with 30 or more reviews. This chart also excludes OGP as it is technically not a statutory board, but rather, a subsidiary of one, GovTech.

(Note: the above-mentioned figures comparing OGP to other organisations do include the organisations with few reviews.)

How does one make sense of this data? After all, not all scales were made equal. Here’s how these government agencies compare to some other sectors:

• In banking: Most of these organisations rate better than UOB (3.2 stars, based on 1,788 reviews) and OCBC (3.4 stars, based on 3,511 reviews), but worse than DBS (3.9 stars, based on 2,814 reviews) and Standard Chartered (3.8 stars, based on 10,846 reviews).

• In big tech: Most of these organisations rate better than TikTok (3.3 stars, based on 697 reviews) and Sea Group (3.4 stars, based on 258 reviews), but fare worse than Meta, Google, and Microsoft (above 4 stars). Grab comes in at 3.7 stars, based on 1,199 reviews.

Reviewers were also asked about whether they would recommend this company to a friend, which has a few notable key differences:

Before you read on, there are some important caveats with analysing employee satisfaction through Glassdoor:

1. Not everyone uses it, and as the platform’s value is greatest for those looking to leave their jobs (who must first post reviews about their workplace before being able to access salary data for other organisations), there’s definitely a negativity bias on the platform. Employees with grievances are the most likely to leave lengthy reviews (see below for a selection).

2. At the same time, while Glassdoor denies that companies pay to remove reviews, there are many users sharing online that their negative reviews were deleted.

3. The ratings are obviously less reliable the less reviews there are, and there is a pretty wide variance between the largest and smallest agencies.

4. Glassdoor aggregates ratings from all employee functions, which is another issue as different departments are likely to have different work cultures. Many reviews and ratings are also non-recent. Many studies have (unsurprisingly) found that one’s supervisor plays an influential role in determining work satisfaction and well-being.

5. Most importantly, there is no verification process to ensure that all reviews are legitimate (as in, left by actual employees or providing real salary data).

In essence, this is an interesting analysis, but take it all with a grain of salt. Still, with the public sector often being so tight-lipped about its inner workings, Glassdoor reviews provide some fascinating insights into its work culture.

What makes a government agency unsatisfying to work for?

What do the lowest-rated agencies have in common? According to reviews, the answer appears to be senior management.

On Glassdoor, employees leaving reviews are asked to give a rating on six different categories: compensation and benefits, career opportunities, work/life balance, diversity and inclusion, culture and values, and senior management.

Of the bottom 10 ministries and statutory boards (which were rated by employees at 3.2/5 or below), only one rated senior management a 3 out of 5 and above. Half of them gave it the lowest rating out of the six categories they were asked to rate.

The National Arts Council, the statutory board in charge of developing Singapore’s art sector, had the lowest Glassdoor rating among all organisations analysed. Quite fittingly, the employee review rated “most helpful” by users had a go at being poetic. Headlined “as clear as canal water during heavy rain”, this reviewer writes:

I thought of the review headline since there is a canal which is Geylang river that runs beside the office building, and whenever it rains heavily when going/leaving office, I realised that the muddy water depicts the organisation perfectly.

Most of the important discussions are held behind closed doors and drawn blinds, away from the prying eyes of the common people who do bulk of the work. The office supposedly has a ‘open door’ policy where employees are encouraged to go straight and talk to the directors whenever they have anything to raise, but 95% of the doors of the directors are closed, only 1 director practises this ‘open door’ policy but i am unsure if employees talk to him directly on issues.

The Singapore Food Agency, the statutory board overseeing food safety and food security, had the third-lowest rating. This “most helpful” review writes:

In summary, SFA is like the Titanic, sinking beneath the weight of unappreciative chaos, toxic office politics, career stagnation, and the departure of its brightest minds. Brace yourself for a workplace on the brink of implosion, where the best abandon ship, leaving behind a crew of the undeserving.

Meanwhile, for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs (the lowest-rated ministry), this reviewer writes:

You know that the situation is dire when some of the best mentors, Directors and Deputy Directors who have dedicated years of service in the hopes of advancing Singapore’s foreign interests, resign amidst physical and mental burnouts, in search of greener pastures where their talents and skills are better appreciated.

You know that the situation has further hit a bleak abyss when a new task force needs to be set up just to examine why the foreign service keeps on hemorrhaging talent, as if the reasons why are not already blatantly obvious to anyone in management who deigns to talk to your junior and middle management on the ground.

What makes a government agency beloved?

What do the agencies rated highest have in common? There were 21 agencies that received a rating of 3.8 and above.

In contrast to the worst-performing, and perhaps unsurprisingly given that this is public sector work, 15 out of these 21 agencies’ reviews rated either “culture and values” or “diversity and inclusion” highest among the six categories they were asked to rate.

I did not compile CEO approval ratings, as much of the information is frequently inaccurate (regarding who is currently in charge) or absent entirely, but the agencies with ratings and at the top of the rankings (MAS and CPFB) do share in common an over 90% approval rating for their CEOs, according to reviewers.

Still, given the aforementioned negativity bias of employee reviews, the reviews ranked helpful are still pretty negative.

CPFB, which is rated third-highest among the organisations in the dataset, had one 2024 review calling it “one of the worst government agencies to work at” because of, among other reasons, too many unproductive meetings.

That’s another reminder to take all of these reviews with a grain of salt, since Glassdoor aggregates all of their ratings across roles and departments.

The review rated most helpful for MAS, left in 2017, is critical of a MAS unit’s “bullying, women-hating environment” and recommends visiting the group you are working at before taking the job.

But what is this abstract “culture and values”?

Surely, compensation must play a role? While compensation was not consistently the top or bottom category for both best-performing and worst-performing agencies, I was curious about its impact, given the popular perception of civil sector jobs being an iron rice bowl.

The wage data available on Glassdoor for the role with the most reported salaries is another interesting data point, suggesting that compensation alone doesn’t fully explain the difference between employees’ views of their workplace.

Obviously, what makes a workplace culture good or bad (according to reviews) is highly subjective. When comparing government agencies to the companies that rank well on Glassdoor (from DBS to Google), compensation and employee benefits clearly plays a role. (Though the tech sector’s reputation for better benefits does appear to be receding somewhat)

However, as many public sector roles have no closest private sector equivalent, my theory is that a large part of it also comes down to impact and public mission: Does the lived reality of working at this organisation match the expectations one has coming into it?

My interviews with workers at OGP, who are effusive with their praise, suggest that their organisational culture’s alignment with its reformist mission plays a key role. At OGP, teams are small and move quickly, have a higher degree of autonomy than at most public sector jobs, and have a flat hierarchy — all while working on some of the most consequential public tech in Singapore.

In contrast, at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the common theme among negative reviews appears to be, as one reviewer calls it, a “cumbersome and archaic bureaucratic structure”. Many reviewers say the work is meaningful, but is outweighed by long working hours because of work that always seems to be urgent, treatment from their bosses, and internal politics.

Meanwhile, at the Infocomm Media Development Authority (IMDA), one of the lowest-rated statutory boards on Glassdoor, the common theme among negative reviews appears to be indecisiveness from senior leadership.

Similarly, at the National Council of Social Service (NCSS), another low-rated statutory board, complaints revolve around frustrations with outdated technology, management, and hierarchy getting in the way of work.

Overall, these reviews seem to suggest that a mismatch between workplace culture/impact and mission explains the difference in organisational ratings for the public sector on Glassdoor.

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Why do Western creators so frequently look at Asian cities and think: yes, this is exactly what I imagine my future sci-fi dystopia should look like?

While this form of lazy worldbuilding has a long lineage, the latest victim of techno-orientalism is Alien: Earth (2025), the first TV series in the Alien franchise, which was partly filmed in Thailand.

Two years before the events of the original film, much of Alien: Earth’s story unfolds in “New Siam” of 2120, a territory governed by one of five megacorporations that have become the de facto rulers of Earth.

However, this depiction of a futuristic Thailand is a jarring disconnect from the retrofuturist and analogue tech that defined the early films of the franchise. Alien’s (1979) setting was the Nostromo, a cramped, utilitarian and industrial spaceship that feels lived-in.

In contrast, New Siam seems like a mostly unchanged Bangkok of today, despite being intended to depict a future nearly a hundred years from today. The main changes appear to be some added wiring and corporate logos emblazoned on buildings.

For a series that has often been about how humans – not the xenomorphs – are the true evil, this is pretty unimaginative worldbuilding. Worse still, this laziness runs deeper than half-hearted production design.

For the first time, the series introduces us to the Yutani half of the mysterious Weyland-Yutani corporation that has long lingered menacingly in the backdrop of the franchise as an allegory for human greed.

Yutani (no first name), the megacorp’s CEO, is draped in an aesthetic that really wants you to know she’s Japanese, complete with cherry blossoms, ornate period wear, and a vaguely oriental score that punctuates her scenes. While the Alien prequel film Prometheus (2012) explored the motivations of the Weyland half of Weyland-Yutani, Yutani has no such interiority and is no more than a side character whose purpose in the show appears to be a justification for visual spectacle.

In Alien: Earth, Asia largely exists as an aesthetic – with Asian cities and bodies presented without much inner life or coherence – peripheral to the story it is trying to tell.

Present-day Asia as future Western dystopias

If orientalism describes Asia through a stereotypical lens, often embodied in the exotic, the mystical, and otherness, “techno-orientalism” could be understood as one particular way that it manifests. Culture critics and academics use the term to describe when works fetishise Asian-ness as something innately technological, alien, or futuristic. (Check out this volume of essays – and its subsequent volume – for a fantastic overview)

Seen through this lens, Alien: Earth’s portrayal of present-day Thailand as a dystopian distant future is not without precedent.

Asian aesthetics have always been intertwined with science fiction made by Western creators – from Blade Runner’s (1982) towering Geisha billboards and hawker aesthetics, to the Matrix (1999) where Japanese characters form its iconic green digital rain and Hong Kong-influenced kung fu choreography defines its action.

Here, Asian aesthetics are used as a sort of visual shorthand for futurity, dystopianism, and difference, often in sci-fi works that borrow heavily (and interchangeably) from Asian cultures but feature few (if any) Asian protagonists.

But where past works took their aesthetic inspiration from the neon-lit streets of Kowloon and Shinjuku, more recent ones have taken a lazier approach – borrowing not just the vibe of Asian cities but the cities themselves, wholesale.

In the third season of sci-fi drama Westworld (2016-2022), when the synthetic hosts venture out of the titular park and into the human world, the show repurposes its Singapore filming location as the dystopian and AI-run “New Los Angeles” of the year 2058.

Key landmarks, like the National Gallery, Marina One, and the Lasalle College of the Arts, become futuristic banks, offices, and a hub for a menacing AI overlord. Signs reading “Expression” and “Collaboration” at Lasalle are given new and sinister meanings in this fictional dystopia.

The choice of filming location was apt because, in showrunner Jonathan Nolan’s words, America doesn’t spend as much on public infrastructure: “The experience of going to any major Asian city is always a little bewildering and humbling on that level.”

“It really does feel like you’ve gotten in a time machine and stepped forward 20, 30 years into the future. It’s the old William Gibson thing, right? The future is here. It’s just unevenly distributed,” says Nolan as part of an interview with Variety in 2020.

While real-world Singapore is mostly fictional Los Angeles in Westworld, a fictional Singapore does briefly appear too, in scenes where recognisable landmarks like Orchard Road and the Marina Bay Sands are presented unchanged from the present-day.

In these scenes, one of the protagonists has run-ins with Chinese-speaking thugs and the Japanese Yakuza after wandering through Singapore’s Chinatown. It’s really giving this, to be honest:

Westworld is far from alone in deploying modern-day Asia as a visual shorthand for futuristic Western dystopia.

Nolan says that Westworld’s showrunners were inspired by dystopian sci-fi romance film Her (2013), which repurposed Shanghai as a future Los Angeles – often with few changes beyond the addition of White extras. William Gibson, widely considered the father of the cyberpunk genre, described Tokyo in a 2001 essay for tech magazine Wired as his “handiest prop shop”, with its “nameless neon streets” and “sheer eye candy”.

Here, techno-orientalism exists primarily as a way of using the foreignness and difference of Asia’s people and cities to describe the West. This uses a narrow set of signifiers: dense urbanity as an often-isolating and dystopian future; eastern religions as transcendental spiritualism; the aesthetics of Asian food and clothing as exotic otherness.

It is also something that makes for hollow representation, precisely because it centres the West rather than the cultures that inspired it. In his essay, Gibson himself attributes Japan’s rapid economic ascent to the “arrival of alien tech” (the arrival of the West in Japan) and to the US occupation after the dropping of the atomic bombs, glossing over all the other points that do not involve encounters with the West.

Sadly, such techno-orientalism is becoming more, rather than less, common in modern visual storytelling because of a variety of overlapping factors.

Globalisation has meant growing international interest in Asian narratives and settings, and Asia’s divergent arc of urban development makes it ripe for Western artists’ imaginations.

While Asian culture is being consumed at record levels in the West, this has not come with a proportionate increase in Asian representation either in front of or behind the lens.

A study by the USC Annenberg Inclusion Initiative finds that across the 100 top-grossing US films, only 8% had an Asian lead or co-lead actor, while the UCLA Hollywood Diversity Report finds that in the top 250 streaming scripted television programmes of 2024 in the US, 91.5% of writers and 80% of directors are white. Only 2.5% are Asian.

At the same time, countries like Thailand are also becoming major destinations for foreign film productions. Part of why Jurassic World: Rebirth (2025) and The Creator (2023) were among the hundreds of foreign productions taking place there in the 2020s is because of the Thai government’s creation of incentives to draw foreign film investment, like schemes offering up to 30% rebates on spending.

Techno-orientalism betrays a lack of care

Techno-orientalism, at its core, has always been about a lack of care when it comes to world and character making, in using signifiers of Asian worlds as visual shorthand rather than imagining them as lived realities. That all Asian worlds are often lumped together, despite the vast differences in culture between them, is one consequence.

One of the most illustrative examples of this comes from Hitman, a series of immersive murder simulator games often lauded for its meticulous, globe-trotting level design.

In Hitman 3 (2021), the city of Chongqing features as a dark, rain-slicked and cyberpunk-infused level. While visually striking at first glance, players going through it inevitably realise that the city’s neon and cyberpunk aesthetic is just the wallpaper you walk past on the way to the actual game.

Instead of level design that incorporates the city’s most distinctive features, such as its dramatic verticality, the bulk of the level involves exploring an underground lab complex that could literally be located anywhere in the world, with only the occasional Chinese script to denote its connection to its over-ground setting.

This is before one gets into its various oddities that reveal a reliance on tropes and stereotypes.

The skyline features the towering Grand Lisboa hotel from Macau, a city over a thousand kilometres away. One of the murder targets is from the fictional Asian country of Khandanyang (a thinly veiled North Korea), while the other is a white woman in a cheongsam. To my knowledge, Khandanyang is the game’s only fictional country.

One of the level’s key story beats is an antagonist experimenting on the brains of the poor and homeless. This is the most cyberpunk the Hitman series, which is set in present-day, ever gets – second only to the series’s foray into a high-tech Japanese clinic in Hokkaido in Hitman 2 (2018).

Compare this to the same series’s depiction of the fictional Italian town of Sapienza in Hitman (2016), modelled after the Amalfi Coast.

While Hitman’s Chongqing feels like a random collection of city blocks and Asian tropes atop an underground lab, Sapienza feels lived in – with all the shops and community amenities (a church, a town square) and winding streets that would define such a seaside town. The level is so lovingly crafted that one of its most common criticisms from players is that much of the level’s murder-based action does not sufficiently utilise its setting.

Sapienza’s buildings exist purely because the developers thought a fictional Italian town should feel real.

And much like the Chongqing level, Sapienza too features an underground lab that players visit while completing their mission, but this forms a small chunk of players’ experience rather than being the lion’s share of what they are expected to engage with.

This asymmetry is the architecture of techno-orientalism: Asian settings are aesthetics; Western settings are places with interiority.

New Asia and the flattening of Asian-ness

This lack of care is visible in every work that invokes Asian-ness as an aesthetic rather than as a lived reality, rendering Asian settings and cultures as a generic soup of Asian-ness without distinction or detail.

One recent work that takes this to a new level is 2023’s sci-fi blockbuster film The Creator, about an American soldier (played by John David Washington) trying to hunt down Nirmata (Hindi for creator) in a near-future world where human-AI conflict has left Los Angeles devastated by a nuclear bomb.

The Creator presents a world where “New Asia” – a polity that spans everything from Bangladesh to Southeast Asia to Japan – unites under a shared pro-simulant (AI) stance in defiance of US-led efforts to ban the technology. Nirmata is the genius responsible for New Asia’s AI innovations.

Here, “New Asia” becomes an efficient way of evoking all the stereotypes of Asian-ness: spirituality, technology, and foreignness. It also functionally explains why the show frequently deploys Japanese script in places inhabited by people who speak a mix of Thai, Vietnamese, Japanese, Malay, and, of course, English.

Beyond the brief presence of translation tech, the film does not want you to think too deeply about how New Asia’s people communicate with each other on a daily basis – or why exactly these disparate parts of Asia have a common and militant stance on technology beyond their Asian-ness.

This film is intended to read as a sort of anti-imperialism critique against American military overreach, with simulants/AI clearly being an allegory for minority rights. The show’s primary antagonist uses an orbital space station as what is essentially a giant drone to strike down America’s enemies in the country’s quest to defeat Nirmata, often without regard for civilian loss of life.

And yet, this theme is rendered hollow by its impossible-to-ignore techno-orientalism, which renders all of the story’s Asian characters as minor characters with no agency, who exist only to be brutalised and to be made noble by their brutalisation.

The protagonist believes that American military adventurism in New Asia is righteous until it hurts someone he loves, and continues to express scepticism that simulants (often played by Asian actors) are “real” people. This is not exactly a compelling motivation for non-American viewers or anyone familiar with the outsiders as oppressed minority allegories (whether they be aliens, mutants, or AI) that have long defined sci-fi.

The film even features a limp “we are all connected” monologue where the protagonist experiences self-realisation while ascending to a mountainside temple to meet Nirmata (who is, spoilers, played by Gemma Chan).

In the lead-up to The Creator’s release, one scandal that dogged it is how its trailer appears to have repurposed real footage from the 2020 Beirut explosion in its fictional nuclear bomb over Los Angeles. While this footage did not end up in the final cut, possibly as a result of backlash, works like The Creator highlight how comfortable Western creators often are with treating non-Western bodies and aesthetics as fodder for orientalist narratives.

What Asian aesthetics are peripheral changes over time

Growing up as a fan of science fiction has always meant having to contend with shifting gaps in representation as a fact, as what the techno-orient even is is itself a moving target.

Tabletop roleplaying game Shadowrun, first published in the late 1980s at the height of cyberpunk mania, imagined a near-future defined by the dominance of Japanese and Western megacorporations, serving as a playground for shadowrunners (thieves) embarking on heists against them.

After it became clear to the world that Japan was not going to achieve world dominance through economic means, later editions of the game released in subsequent decades – as well as its video game adaptations – shifted towards a more multipolar vision of the future.

This meant the introduction of Chinese and Russian megacorporations, many of which form part of the fictional Pacific Prosperity Group as a counterbalance against the dominance of the Japancorps. For those unaware, this is a uniquely tone-deaf name, considering the history of Japanese imperialism in the Pacific. (To be clear, the long list of cultural oddities in Shadowrun could be its own essay.)

Inescapably, all media is a product of the time – and power dynamics – from which it was born. The near-future always changes based on the actual-now, and often in real-time when it comes to franchises that span decades.

These worldbuilding choices, made before I was even born, continue to seep into the media we consume today, especially as new works continue to reference and adapt the foundational texts of their genre.

The action roleplaying video game Cyberpunk 2077, which was published in 2020 and is itself an adaptation of a tabletop game that was first released in 1988, features the villainous Arasaka Corporation as its primary antagonist, in a world where Europe and Japan are the primary superpowers.

With its source text being written at the height of global anxiety about Japanese economic dominance, Cyberpunk 2077’s setting of Night City is imagined as a California city immersed in Japanese culture. Would a Cyberpunk 2077 conceptualised today, without the baggage of this original text, feature as much ostentatious Japanese script, honour-obsessed villains, or elites in the pocket of a mysterious and foreign Japanese corporation?

Some of the most influential sci-fi works of my youth, like Firefly (2002) and The Expanse (2011-2022) , feel like responses to cyberpunk’s techno-orientalism, in that they represent attempts at recognising and reflecting the world’s diversity. But these too, as products of their time, have also found mixed success in imagining what multiculturalism actually looks like in practice.

In a 2015 essay about Firefly, scholar Douglas Ishii notes that while its space Western setting is littered with Asian artifacts and cultural signifiers, it is also functionally depopulated of Asian people.

In Firefly’s 2517, Asian cultural symbols – Japanese and Chinese script, cultural dress – are associated with the oppressive Alliance, demarcating them as foreign, privileged, and technological. This is in contrast to the wild and independent frontier where the adventures of the ragtag crew of the spaceship Serenity play out.

Ishii’s essay is built around this observation from Mike Le, an Asian American media advocate who had previously asked showrunner Joss Whedon about the absence of Asian representation from the show:

“[I]t was clear that the notion of cultural integration was more important than the practice. That the grand vision of an Asian/American tomorrow was more important than the inclusion of Asian faces and voices today.”

11 years after Firefly’s premiere, science fiction novel series The Expanse (later adapted into a TV series by Syfy and Amazon) imagines a spacefaring future where mankind is divided not along national or ethnic lines, but spatial ones – how far one exists from the sun in the solar system.

However, what sets The Expanse apart from Firefly is that rather than deploying Asian-ness as aesthetic in service to a multicultural future, it grounds its worldbuilding in questions of how existing cultures might form the seeds of future ones.

In the Expanse, Mars (which has become Earth’s primary rival for influence over the solar system) is imagined as a fusion of Chinese, Indian, and Texan influences, whose members speak in a drawl that incorporates influences from all of their languages. The embodied nature of these decisions is one of the things that makes The Expanse so distinctive as a sci-fi world.

Alien: Earth’s missed opportunities

With Alien: Earth, an actual attempt at reimagining Bangkok as a megacorporation-ruled territory could have tread new ground, rather than doubling down on the franchise’s increasingly confused direction.

Director Ridley Scott’s initial film was genre-defining not only because of how its story subverted horror tropes of the time, but also because its worldbuilding was so rich and distinctive that other storytellers are still mining it for spin-offs and derivative creations in the decades after.

The original Alien film bears a rich iconography, from crew members communicating with Mother, the ship AI, by analogue keyboard to the coffin-like hypersleep pods. All of it is the result of imagining how unrestrained corporate greed might shape the lives of humanity’s future spacefarers. There’s a reason why subsequent works (and the sci-fi genre in general) have made these things enduring genre staples — and why the most highly-rated episode by viewers of Alien: Earth was the one that took viewers back to its spaceship setting.

In contrast, every work since the original Alien trilogy has been dogged by criticisms over its thematic and aesthetic incoherence. Prequel film Prometheus (2012), for instance, deploys a sleek and clean visual language for its titular spaceship that is largely indistinguishable from other spacefaring sci-fi works.

In the same vein, Alien: Earth feels like a missed opportunity to ponder how dystopian corporate governance looks like on Earth, both visually and figuratively. And, what does it look like in a city like Bangkok, which is already one of the most hyper-capitalist in the world?

In one early sequence, the show features moneyed elites having a powdered wig costume party. Later, one of its antagonists makes a call from what appears to be a BDSM club. These feel like half-hearted gestures at Bangkok’s seedy underbelly that never quite stick the landing because of how placeless it all is.

One of the story’s central conflicts is the corporate espionage that plays out between the traditional Yutani (a character whose name has existed in the set design of the spaceship Nostromo from the very first Alien film in 1979) and the upstart Boy Kavalier (a new character created for the TV series).

Kavalier is richly illustrated as an Elon Musk-like figure, with a sense of morality that is entirely alien to our own. While we get a sense of why Kavalier wants the xenomorphs (to finally be able to communicate with an intellect that he believes surpasses his own), we never understand why Yutani wants the aliens beyond her belief that the aliens are rightfully hers.

As with many depictions of techno-orientalism, Yutani is all aesthetic and no interiority.

The show’s ambitious themes about humans seeing other sentient beings (like synthetics or xenomorphs) as little more than property to exploit are hard to take seriously, precisely because its worldbuilding feels so thin. Can a sci-fi work be biting social commentary if the exploitation it is concerned with feels so unrooted from place or culture?

One of Alien: Earth’s core character arcs follows its child protagonists as they transition into adult synthetic bodies, given new names pulled from Peter Pan and his lost boys that reflect their new status as marketable products for a corporation eager to sell them as a version of immortality.

This story arc’s climax emerges when these characters reject these names and their status as commodities, to reclaim who they really are underneath.

It’s a pity that the show doesn’t extend this same instinct to its own worldbuilding. Rather, it commodifies an inauthentic and at times stereotypical image of Asia to sell its vision of a future dystopia.

If you haven’t heard of Singapore’s latest influencer scandal, that’s probably because you’re not spending time on the HardwareZone forum or Reddit.

Realtor Melvin Lim was filmed coming out of an office with influencer (and employee) Grayce Tan, by folks who appear to be their next-door office neighbours. Both of them are married to other people.

What makes it all the more mortifying is that the previous five minutes of said video depicted pretty awkward sounds coming out of that office.

This scandal has all the ingredients for snark:

• Melvin’s company slogan is Real Estate with Integrity. ✓

• He is also outspokenly Christian, having been featured on local Christian blog Salt & Light, which appears to be scrubbing all online traces of Melvin from their website. ✓

• Notably, this was the same blog that issued an apology in 2023 for scrubbing its website of articles featuring then-speaker of parliament Tan Chuan Jin after his cheating scandal and resignation – immediately causing users to draw parallels. ✓

• They were caught in the crosshairs of Singaporeans’ well-documented tendency toward voyeuristic filming. Redditors spilling the tea claim that the video has been circulating among property agent WhatsApp groups. ✓

• It’s a workplace affair between a boss and their subordinate. ✓

• They have generated an enormous amount of social media content, documenting everything from their marriages to their holidays, for people to scrutinise. ✓

All of this coalesces into a cheating scandal that everyone – from conservatives to progressives, atheist or religious, incels or otherwise – can dunk on.

We used to have to wait for tabloids to gather all of this information in one place, but now, we have Reddit.

Singapore’s tea-spilling communities

Here’s how it was discussed on Reddit community r/SingaporeInfluencers.

On January 25, a user noticed speculation on another subreddit that Melvin Lim and Grayce Tan were cheating on their partners with each other, and asked for the tea (gossip).

In response, users began trawling through the pair’s online presence, pulling up pictures from recent holidays, recent wedding details, and even pictures of Grayce’s husband.

One user began pointing others toward the aforementioned video. Another pointed out that Salt & Light had scrubbed its webpages of Melvin Lim.

Even an alleged WhatsApp message from Melvin was posted on the subreddit.

Tea-spilling and snark communities exist everywhere, and Singapore is no exception. While tea-sharing refers broadly to all manner of gossip, snark communities focus on taking down celebrities and influencers.

Though it describes itself as “a real look at Singapore’s influencer culture”, most of the recent posts on r/SingaporeInfluencers have been requests for tea about an influencer, or calling out a particular influencer for their behaviour.

This is not Singapore’s only tea-sharing community. A Telegram group chat and Google spreadsheet titled Dating Guide SG was started by women to warn each other about men in the dating scene in 2021, but was deleted soon after due to backlash.

Snark as more than entertainment

Part of why tea-sharing and snark is thriving online is because gossip serves a social function.

Some psychologists argue that it is a useful form of social bonding, helping communities to enforce norms, build trust within groups, while casting out bad actors. A study recently used game theory to explain how gossip may arise as a strategy to encourage cooperative over selfish behaviours because of concern over one’s reputation.

Although gossip is often described in feminine or subversive terms (the slang phrase “spill the tea” originates from queer black culture), it is a universal experience. Anyone who’s worked in any kind of mostly-male environment (like national service) could tell you that.

Add to this our well-documented tendency to project our personal feelings and anxieties onto celebrity behaviour, and you end up with fertile ground for collective gossip and psychoanalysis.

(As an aside, I really enjoyed reading this Tell the Bees essay about celebrity cheating scandals and how it lets people perform their morality and feel righteous — and why some celebrities recover from their cheating scandals while others do not.)

Snark communities are pretty Reddit-centric. Few other social media platforms allow communities to form and continuously discuss topics in the same way.

Most of these snark subreddits are focused on criticising broad swathes of celebrities or influencers, but some public figures have their own dedicated subreddits. See r/travisandtaylor, the snark subreddit dedicated to Taylor Swift for one example.

But here’s where we get into some murky territory.

While some of these subreddits have drawn fans because of how they peel back the artifice of celebrity culture and call out bad behaviour, they have also come under fire for cyberbullying. Often, the desire to dish dirt on a celebrity translates to ritualised mass body shaming.

And Reddit isn’t the only mode through which snark, tea and drama disseminate.

YouTube is home to many creators whose bread and butter is breaking down incredibly specific drama between niche content creators. One of my favourite TikTokers, daadisnacks, creates an endless stream of content making fun of how out of touch influencers are:

@daadisnacksGandhi Mahal was better #nycfood #indianfood #nyc #browntiktok

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I’d be willing to bet that over the course of the week, some of Singapore’s podcasters will be discussing this Melvin Lim and Grayce Tan cheating scandal in depth, breaking it down point by point for their listeners.

Celebrity gossip as entertainment isn’t new, but what is new is that the internet has democratised the who and what of tabloid journalism. As Feven Merid, writing for the Columbia Journalism Review, puts it:

At a time when the influencer economy is booming, snark subreddits are often the only places taking a close inspection of how the industry and its most successful figures operate. (…)

In doing all this, Redditors are playing a role that mainstream journalists so far haven’t been able, or willing, to. Even though internet culture has become well defined as a beat, the day-to-day habits of influencers don’t garner much attention.

At the same time, Feven cautions that snark communities’ debates often centre superficial and mean-spirited critiques.

One need only look at r/SingaporeInfluencers, where users are comparing Melvin’s appearance to that of Grayce’s husband.

One user writes: “Knn her husband is 10x better looking than this Melvin guy but I guess with money you can get anything.”

For context, retraction is the process by which an article is withdrawn after it is published, a rare step taken after serious flaws have been flagged – like data manipulation or plagiarism.

This retraction count for Singapore-affiliated authors isn’t as high as the figure in 2023, when 25 papers were retracted (read on to find out why and how it relates to Singapore’s hall of academic infamy).

And, the 2025 examples aren’t quite as crazy as 2024, when a paper about “Left-Handed Mothers and LGBTQ+ Child Acceptance in Singapore” by two fictional researchers from the “University of Simisai” was retracted after an activist sting.

Nevertheless, the examples are fascinating. As anyone who follows blogs like Retraction Watch and Data Colada can probably tell, such academic dishonesty is more common than you would think, and is a symptom of deep-rooted issues in how we value research and the people behind it.

Here are a few of the papers retracted in 2025:

Cancer research based on manipulated data?

A paper by a group of NUS Cancer Science Institute researchers (and others), first published in 2017, was retracted in November after concerns were raised about image and data irregularities. None of the researchers involved in writing the paper responded to the publisher, the Journal of Hematology & Oncology, when these concerns were raised, according to the retraction notice. The paper was cited 31 times before it was retracted.

According to the journal, some of the concerns raised include the use of what appear to be duplicate images, as well as irregularities in data.

Image manipulation is one way that researchers falsify results, with duplicate images being one telltale sign of this taking place (here’s a fascinating discussion of it).

Of the study’s 10 authors, 4 were affiliated with the National University of Singapore’s Cancer Science Institute at the time of publishing.

This isn’t the only case implicating an author from this group. In October, another paper also co-authored by Dr H. Phillip Koeffler (formerly of the Cancer Science Institute) was retracted by the Journal of Cancer Research and Clinical Oncology.

This paper, published in 2013 and examining thyroid cancer, also had concerns raised over highly similar images in the article. “Upon request, the authors stated that the raw data are no longer available due to the age of the article,” wrote the journal. “However, due to the number of concerns, the Editor-in-Chief no longer has confidence in the presented data.”

Two authors disagreed with the retraction, while the others (including Dr Koeffler) did not respond. The paper was cited 60 times before it was retracted.

More irregularities in cancer research

That’s not all for biomedical retractions this year. Here’s another paper, this one examining a form of brain cancer and published in 2024, that was retracted in January after concerns were raised over the images used, many of which bear similarities to each other – potentially indicating manipulation.

Of the 20 authors who co-wrote the article, 8 were affiliated with the Agency for Science Technology and Research (A*STAR). One of the paper’s four lead authors, Lele Wu, is a recipient of a career development award from A*STAR’s Institute of Molecular and Cell Biology and a young individual research grant from the National Medical Research Council, per their LinkedIn account.

Here’s part of the journal’s retraction notice:

The authors attribute image overlap and similarities to human error. Given the number of errors, however, they have lost confidence in the reliability of the study and therefore wish to retract the Article. The authors deeply regret these errors and sincerely apologise to the community. All authors agree to this retraction.

The article was cited 9 times before it was retracted.

One of over 1,500 articles retracted in paper mill investigation

As part of an investigation by academic publisher Sage into one of its publications, the Journal of Intelligent and Fuzzy Systems, over 1,500 articles were retracted over “questionable peer review, citation manipulation, and other signs of paper mill activity”, according to Retraction Watch.

This mass retraction included three papers with authors affiliated with Singapore institutions at time of publishing. In these papers’ retraction notices, it states that there is “evidence to suggest collusion between authors and reviewers that was not detected prior to publication” as well as “patterns of citation manipulation”.

It’s honestly insane to me that this journal still exists when their most-cited article in the past three years was retracted, and 3 of the 13 things they put out in their latest volume were retraction notices.

Of the Singapore-affiliated authors involved, only one appears to hold a position (a cursory internet search suggests that the others are students). This person is Dr Mark Goh of the NUS Business School, who is also Director (Industry Research) at The Logistics Institute-Asia Pacific.

His retracted paper, co-authored with four others, was first published in 2017 and was cited 27 times before it was retracted in 2025.

Extreme and irrelevant self-citation

A literature review on microplastic pollutants in freshwater, first published in 2023, was retracted in June 2025 after concerns raised over self-citation by the lead author.

Of the paper’s 10 authors, only one was affiliated with a Singapore institution at the time of publishing, Dr Chew Kit Wayne, then an assistant professor at NTU. He is credited as the last author.

According to the journal’s retraction notice, the initially submitted paper included 25 citations to works by the paper’s first author, Dr Tonni Kurniawan, an associate professor at Xiamen University. 6 more citations were added as part of revisions.

“The assessing editor determined that of the total of 31 citations to corresponding author Tonni Kurniawan, around 85% are not relevant to the article,” writes the journal’s retraction notice. “This example of extreme self-citation of irrelevant articles represents a violation of publishing ethics and as such the Editor believes that the most responsible course of action is to retract the paper.”

The authors disagreed with the retraction. The paper was cited 127 times before it was retracted.

Notably, these authors have an insane publishing output. This is one of five papers by Dr Chew, who is now an assistant professor at the United Arab Emirates University, that have been retracted. This is a drop in the bucket considering how he has published over 260 articles since 2017.

Meanwhile, the lead author, Dr Tonni Kurniawan, has published over 490 articles.

The Singapore hall of infamy

Of course, these works don’t come anywhere close to the most glaring instances of retractions relating to Singapore.

Education researcher Dr Noel Chia Kok Hwee (formerly of NTU’s National Institute of Education), whose research primarily examines special needs children, has had 21 papers retracted by The Journal of the American Academy of Special Education Professionals in 2016 and 2017.

This came after an investigation by NTU into his work. Here’s a link to an archived version of the university’s statement, which states that the school conducted an in-depth investigation following allegations of research malpractice.

Another of his works was recently retracted in 2023, when an article about using avatars with individuals with autism spectrum disorder was pulled by the International Journal of Emerging Technology and Advanced Engineering.

Dr Chia appears to now be the managing principal therapist at Merlion Pediatric Therapy, where his profile states that he was a former Lee Kong Chian Research Fellow. Prior to the retractions, he appears to have regularly featured in the press sharing his thoughts on special needs children.

Also between 2015 and 2017, a misconduct investigation by NTU resulted in the firing of NTU professor Ravi Kambadur and his wife and co-author Mridula Sharma, as well as the revocation of two researchers’ doctorate degrees, after the group was found guilty of falsifying data. The Straits Times called it the “one of the biggest cases of scientific fraud in Singapore”.

The investigation resulted the retraction of six biomedical research papers, examining the potential of suppressing myostatin to burn fat.

Jumping ahead to 2023, nine papers were retracted after NTU lodged a complaint over a fictional author going by the name of “Toshiyuki Bangi”, who claimed to be affiliated with NTU’s School of Civil and Environmental Engineering.

This partly accounts for why 2023 saw such a large number of retractions for Singapore-affiliated authors – one of them was made up! Apparently, to make each coalition of authors appear more prestigious than it was to improve their odds at peer review, said NTU’s research integrity officer at the time.

Per Retraction Watch, the corresponding author for all of the papers was Cong Zhang, a researcher in the School of Environmental and Civil Engineering at Jiangnan University in China.

When a TikTok creator started a video series “exposing” hawkers recommended by the Michelin guide (but mostly giving them a 7/10 rating if he did not like them), it kicked off a firestorm of criticism from netizens who slammed him for potentially damaging the livelihoods of these hawkers.

In Singapore’s broad spectrum of food blogs and content creators, food criticism is mostly about price worthiness and “authenticity”, and less so about comparison and actual criticism. In many cases, the worst insult a creator or journalist has is that a restaurant may still be worth it if there is no queue.

None of this holds true for Jaime Ee, lifestyle editor of The Business Times, a prolific food reviewer for whom no picture of their face exists online. I hereby refer to them as they (singular), as even their gender is unknown to me (and I would rather not ask).

Jaime does not mince words. Take this opening line to their review of Spanish tapas restaurant Binomio: “The new Binomio is a classic example of how far Spanish cuisine has come in Singapore. As in, not very far.”

Later in the review, they write: “There’s little character to speak of at Binomio, which dishes out food with the efficiency of a hardworking chef who hasn’t had a hug in a long time.”

I’ll have what they’re having.

Why bad reviews are rare in Singapore

There are many structural reasons for why food criticism in Singapore is rarely so scathing.

For one, Singapore’s news outlets typically do not pay for these meals, creating a reliance on fostering good relationships with restaurants (and their PR agencies) to even access them unless your journalist is independently wealthy.

Most local journalists are not independently wealthy, and this is obviously less of an issue when the food isn’t pricey (notice how the TikTok creator was “exposing” Michelin recommended hawker stalls, not restaurants).

Worse, it’s often pay to play. It’s an open secret that many of Singapore’s food blogs receive payment from restaurants to write their food reviews – making bad reviews an often pointless and profitless exercise. A similar dynamic exists for many foodie content creators.

And then, there’s the fact that newspapers, websites and even professional content creators no longer occupy a central space in consumers’ minds when deciding where and what to eat. That space has long ago been ceded to anonymous social media users and Google reviews.

No amount of press reviews or sponsored posts can help a restaurant escape the verdict of having just 3 out of 5 stars on Google reviews. Or, when they provoke a slew of negative but organic TikTok posts by angry consumers.

In many ways, these public reviews have come to replace food criticism as a way of sifting out places that aren’t worth eating at.

All of this makes Jaime Ee’s unusually tough love all the more fascinating to read.

As such, I’ve compiled my favourite of their reviews from 2025 (though I’d also encourage you to read the original linked reviews in full if you’re interested):

9. “The best way to enjoy your meal at Violet Oon’s is to not think about the food. At all.”

This review of Violent Oon’s new Dempsey Hill outlet continues:

Go with other people. Friends. Lovers. Start a quarrel. Propose. OK, maybe don’t do that. Gossip. Anything but scrutinise what you’re eating. (...)

With down-to-earth pricing, pleasant and polished service and an easy-going ambience, it’s not hard to like. It’s perfect for a gathering of aunties, for family dinners, people of varying levels of importance, anything. But the key is just that – a place to gather, with food. Not for it. (...)

We can’t say the same about fuyong hai crab (S$24), a sopping wet omelette crowned with crabmeat that’s on the fast track to being not fresh. Now, we’ve always believed that eggs can do no wrong, but this is scrambled beyond redemption. OK, belacan helps a bit. (...)

No excuses for the dry laksa (S$29), which we remember from years back as one of our favourites. Not any more. It looks like it, smells like it, but between the under-fried dried shrimp and stodgy noodles, taste found an escape route and ran off to Tanglin Halt.

8. “Like annoying five-year-olds, we can’t stop asking “Why?”. Why is the mid-section of the wing stuffed with chicken rice infused with vinegar, and why complicate it further with char siew marinated drumettes?”

The most creative food review I’ve read this year comes from Jaime Ee comparing a meal at Meh’r by Inderpal to a lover who’s trying way too hard:

We’re sorry. We tried, but we don’t think it’s going to work out. It’s not them, it’s us. We don’t deserve them. We can’t keep up with the energy of one who takes Indian food on a merry spin through the rest of Asia and shows no sign of stopping. Satay sauce without peanuts? No, no. Not for us. Made with digestive biscuits? That actually sounds traumatic. Not to mention eating beetroot-coloured thosai and sardines. (...)

First up is satay merah jambu (S$22), with its promise of chargrilled pink oyster mushroom, satay sauce and rice cakes. Yes, we get that it might be designed for vegetarians with nut allergies, but being of neither persuasion, we resent that we’re eating damp, squishy mushrooms dipped in a chilli-onion relish thickened with cookie crumbs. (...)

But like an overzealous date, Meh’r by Inderpal tries too hard, and uses every trick in the book in the hope that something sticks. It’s purple prose in dire need of brutal editing; it’s the lack of understanding that this is not a competition, so chill. (...)

Laksa fish (S$42) is another case of self-restraint thrown out the window, as saffron-coloured halibut is poached and served in a laksa sauce, layered with potato puree, fried vermicelli, dried shrimp sambal and anything else within reach. There’s no rhyme or reason, just a random bucket of ingredients that happened to cross paths at the same time.

7. “We’ve barely settled down when two complimentary rice balls are slapped down on our table like pamphlets handed out by a guy in the MRT who can’t wait to get rid of them.”

One of Jaime’s most savage reviews is directed towards Spanish eatery Binomio. After sharing its history since Binomio was first founded in 2012 amid a “Spanish fever” of new restaurants, they write:

That brings it to where it is now – a finely honed operation that’s figured out what the market wants and the price it will tolerate, but not much else. (...)

A metallic grapevine curls overhead, snaking its way around the ceiling-height see-through wine display. Clumps of “grapes” cling to the branches in case you don’t get the imagery. Maybe it’s just us, but they look a little embarrassed. (…)

Skip the lamb rack (S$38), which the server didn’t recommend and no wonder. The overcooked chops drown in a sticky sweet sauce before it can warn its sweetbread to escape this losing proposition. But they’re both caught in an uneasy alliance with aggressive goat cheese. (…)

Practice makes perfect here, but not so with the churros (S$16), which almost make it except for an oily sheen and slightly damp centre.

6. “The worst is the grated daikon that accompanies the tempura – if it’s possible to be offended by a vegetable, this feels like it. It’s so tasteless that it’s almost as if it’s thumbing its tendrils at us.”

In this review of Japanese eatery Tempura Ensei, Jaime expresses frustration over a restaurant that over-promises and under-delivers when declaring that it is “bringing the art of 120-year-old, Edo-style tempura to Singapore”.

If that’s true, then what have we been eating all this while? Teenage fish fritters? (...)

Grand statements are the undoing of Tempura Ensei, which promises more than it delivers. Its public relations pitch and omakase-only pricing give you the impression that you’re getting fine-dining quality and a hinoki-counter experience. But our meal is akin to being on the restaurant floor of a Tokyo shopping mall, dining at an overpriced eatery because it’s the only one that doesn’t have a queue. (...)

The real test is, of course, the tempura, and the batter is mostly light and floppy, with an occasional satisfying crunch, and an underlying greasiness. The trick is to chomp on it at the right moment when the batter tries its darnedest to crisp up, before it decides it’s not worth the effort. (...)

Sharks’ fin tempura, on the other hand, is wasted by being doused in a sticky sauce that negates the whole point of frying it. The best is a whole piece of anago that lands crisp on your dish, and split into two with chopsticks to let the steam escape. The worst is the grated daikon that accompanies the tempura – if it’s possible to be offended by a vegetable, this feels like it. It’s so tasteless that it’s almost as if it’s thumbing its tendrils at us.

5. “The dilemma is that it sets the bar very high, and expectations follow. The effort is there, but identity and direction less so.”

A visually stunning presentation from a new Marina Bay Sands restaurant sets expectations that are too high for the food to meet:

“With its no-expense-spared decor and prime National Day fireworks-level view, you can see where Jin Ting Wan is going. It’s aimed at the high-rolling, mostly non-local crowd, used to the trappings of top-ranked Chinese restaurants in the likes of Beijing, Shanghai or even Macau. But being in Singapore, it also attracts curious outliers like us – the kind with less money but more complaints. (...)

Eventually, though, you’re fed an amuse bouche. A single square of winter melon is presented like a piece of still art: pristine, slightly pickled, garnished with four pearls of caviar and a single pink flower petal. A hint of chilli. It’s presented with a proud flourish. Not sure if we’re supposed to clap.

4. “Do we order the house special beef set or a colonoscopy?”

One of the unique selling points of this new Korean BBQ in Duxton Road is that someone grills your meat for you, so you don’t end up with carcinogenic lumps of charred protein because you were too engrossed in bitching about your boss to tend the fire. (...)

The decor is very simple, with plenty of space between tables. It’s also very bright. Operating theatre bright. Do we order the house special beef set or a colonoscopy? You don’t want to be in charge of the cleaning here. There is no way you can explain to the manager that you missed a spot because it was too dark to see the dirt. (...)

Compared to a good Japanese yakiniku, the price and quality of the meat don’t stand out… There’s a marinated version (S$49) but we have an aversion to oxidised greyish meat in a sweet sauce so we prefer everything au naturel.

3. “It’s as if chefs from Jumbo’s more-forgiving kitchens were given the directive to go upmarket, causing some mental short-circuitry in the process.”

Jumbo’s new and more upscale seafood restaurant offering draws a mixed reception:

It’s designed to be posh Cantonese with some modern touches, but its finesse is sporadic. It’s as if chefs from Jumbo’s more-forgiving kitchens were given the directive to go upmarket, causing some mental short-circuitry in the process. They try a little too hard, with shaky attempts at innovation and a “more is more” approach to seasoning and preparation. (...)

But the steamed version disappoints, with the less-than-fresh crabmeat unable to hide in a steamed egg custard covered by pumpkin broth, with two pie tee shells on the side looking like they were told to show up to offer moral support.

2. “Of course, it says something about PS Cafe if the best thing about it was the fries.”

This review of the Chip Bee Bistro comes with some drive-by criticism for its closest comparison, PS Cafe, as well as its Holland Village locale:

Of course, it says something about PS Cafe if the best thing about it was the fries. That is, the food always played second fiddle to the ambience. You still get very good fries at Chip Bee Bistro – albeit without the truffle oil – but the menu is basic cafe fare. Nothing fancy, just familiar and passable cooking meant for mindless grazing as you linger and shoot the breeze with pals like you did decades ago. (...)

Teo doesn’t reinvent the cafe wheel with Chip Bee Bistro – he just rinses and repeats what worked in the past. He’s not so much running a restaurant as he is offering a lifestyle choice with snacks included. It’s a neighbourhood joint in a neighbourhood we wish we could be a part of.

It’s a taste of what Holland Village should, and used to be. And if the stars could get their act together to align, it could still be.

1. “In your state of hazy sun-addled stupor, you wonder if maybe your efforts to get in are commensurate with their efforts to keep you out.”

By the time I read this review of Table at Pierre Herme, I’ve come to the conclusion that when Jaime says a restaurant is a “work in progress”, that’s the diplomatic way of saying “not good”.

The line is long, but the shoppers inside are few. Booking a table at the restaurant is even harder, with a constant stream of unavailable dates for weeks on end. It’s either a sadistic French thing, or the folks behind Pierre Herme are taking crowd control to the extreme.

But, armed with a lot of patience, you’ll find enough pleasures at this diabetes-warning-ahead temple of sugary gastronomy.

Honourable mention: Jaime Ee’s thoughts on the Michelin Guide Awards in 2025

If you’ve followed any food journalism at all in 2025, you’ll likely know that this year’s Michelin awards drew a very mixed reception, something that Jaime sums up like so:

You know something’s not quite right when you get invited to a party and the host doesn’t even show up. (...)

Notably missing was the guide’s international director Gwendal Poullennec, who nonetheless had prepared a pre-recorded video lauding the culinary excellence of Singapore’s restaurant scene, while also making the right noises about the challenges the industry is facing.

While it’s not the first time he didn’t make a personal appearance in Singapore, there was an air of “sorry, I couldn’t make it, but enjoy yourselves anyway” blaseness about his absence. It was a vibe that continued throughout the evening, which could go down as the guide’s snooziest, phone-it-in performance since it made its grand debut in 2016.

Images: Google Maps

Having a loved one with severe allergies to nuts and shellfish (he carries an EpiPen everywhere he goes), eating out in Singapore is a real struggle. That’s because restaurants and eateries often lack detailed lists of their ingredients, awareness of cross-contamination risks, and crucially: an understanding of how severe (and potentially fatal) food allergies can be.

This challenge appears to be a common experience among the food-allergic families (mostly with young children) I spoke to in the course of writing my story (see here for another story on the daily challenges of food-allergic families). Of note, while the rate of food allergies remains low in Singapore, there is a growing trend of these allergies among children.

Clearly, more needs to be done to accommodate people living with food allergies in Singapore. In the meantime however, I figured that it might be useful to compile a list of eateries that I or others have had positive experiences with.

Here’s a list of restaurants that go the extra mile for people with food allergies:

Highly recommended

Din Tai Fung. Honestly, this Taiwanese chain really is the gold standard that other restaurants should aspire to. It’s truly impressive to me that when I informed the staff about my loved one’s food allergy, a waiter proceeded to mark out every menu item on a paper menu which was suitable for someone with a nut allergy, as well as every menu item which carried a cross-contamination risk, after consulting a mammoth binder stating each item’s ingredients.

The company also told me that they conduct training for staff regarding dietary restrictions and cross-contamination risks, and use food-allergen test kits to compile an allergen profile for each of their menu items. Amazing!

My only issue with Din Tai Fung is that they don’t provide this allergen advice online, and one must head down in order to ask for it. Also, unfortunately, no xiaolongbaos for my nut-allergic loved one because of the cross-contamination risk.

Restaurants under the Proper Concepts Collective umbrella. These restaurants include Ms Maria and Mr Singh, The Feather Blade, Rappu, Goho and Mezcla.

Though I’ve only ever dined at Ms Maria and Mr Singh, I was impressed by how the reservation system for all their eateries allows you to clearly indicate your food allergies and dietary restrictions.

On arrival, the staff confirmed with us our food restrictions, and took care to explain which items on the menu were not suitable and which could be made suitable with ingredient substitutions — along with an explanation of each dish’s ingredients when they were brought to our table. Having had many a time when restaurant staff would react with confusion over the phone when I try to explain our dietary restrictions, this really was a breath of fresh air.

The Butcher’s Wife. This gluten-free Brazilian restaurant has the most detailed menu I have ever seen, listing a slew of potential allergens for each dish, as well as potential substitutions. It’s impressive to me that they went the extra mile to show all of this information at a glance, and it’s something I wish were more commonplace in Singapore.

McDonald’s. The fast food place with the most detailed allergen warnings, available on its online menu, for all of its products (even seasonal/promotional items)! Not ashamed to say that this was probably our most reliable and frequent go-to place when in an unfamiliar locale and after many futile attempts at asking restaurants if they could accommodate someone with a food allergy. Honorary mention goes to Nando’s as well for having a similarly detailed online menu. However, I am concerned that they don’t extend their allergen information to promotional items or newer additions to the menu.

Recommended by families I spoke to

These restaurants were not places that I have personally visited while eating with someone with a food allergy, but they came highly recommended by the food-allergic families I interviewed.

Putien. Was recommended by others I spoke to for having staff that either asked about dietary restrictions or were knowledgeable when informed about dietary restrictions.

Tiann’s. Gluten-free restaurant with detailed ingredients lists.

The Whole Kitchen. Gluten-free restaurant with detailed ingredient lists.

Two Men Bagel House. Their in-person menus contain some allergen information, along with a sign to inform staff about dietary restrictions.

Other recommendations

These were places I visited or ordered from, which said they could accommodate someone with a food allergy (nuts and shellfish), but did not have detailed allergen warnings on their menus.

Chatterbox. A really kind internet stranger gave us a $100 voucher to eat here after hearing about our plight with finding hawker food that was definitely safe to eat. Note that a plate of chicken rice costs $25 here, oof! The staff were really conscientious regarding dietary restrictions.

Chef’s Hats (Hougang Green). The staff were really helpful when we told them about our food allergies, and double-checked with us about whether certain oils and other ingredients would be appropriate, which I thought was really sweet.

Poulet. The staff checked the ingredients to make sure the menu items we wanted were safe to eat. Alas, no sauce for my nut-allergic loved one because of cross-contamination risk!

Ma Maison. The staff checked the ingredients to make sure the menu items we wanted were safe to eat.

Collin’s. The staff checked the ingredients to make sure the menu items we wanted were safe to eat.

Mendon. The staff pulled out the ingredients list on the bags of curry they use for us to read, and even called up their boss to be certain if a menu item would be safe.

Hero’s. We were there for their weekly comedy night (Comedy Masala) and indicated in advance that we had someone with a food allergy. They assigned a member of staff to us to make sure we knew what menu items we could order, and to check in with the kitchen regarding our queries.

Unfortunately, due to the severity of my loved one’s allergies, we never risked trying hawker food together.

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The full list of 191,000 pirated ebooks used to train AI models like ChatGPT has been made public, and it includes Singapore figures like Lee Kuan Yew, Catherine Lim, Balli Kaur Jaswal, and many others.

These books were part of an enormous and popular dataset — named Books3 — which was used to train generative AI. Meta used Books3 for its Llama2 AI, which will power the company’s AI assistants.

With AI’s surge in popularity, the data practices of AI companies have come under increasing scrutiny and criticism. A string of lawsuits have been filed by authors against ChatGPT creator OpenAI, alleging copyright infringement.

And over 10,000 authors — including James Pattinson and Margaret Atwood — have signed an open letter to AI companies saying that AI companies are using authors’ work without consent, credit, or compensation.

Here is an (incomplete) list of Singapore authors whose works were used to train AI as part of the Books3 dataset, in no particular order:

Lee Kuan Yew

• Memoirs of Lee Kuan Yew Slipcase Edition

Catherine Lim

• Miss Seetoh in the World 

• Roll Out the Champagne, Singapore!

Balli Kaur Jaswal

• Erotic Stories for Punjabi Widows: A Novel

• The Unlikely Adventures of the Shergill Sisters: A Novel

Neon Yang

• The Ascent to Godhood (The Tensorate Series Book 4)

• The Black Tides of Heaven (Kindle Single) (The Tensorate Series Book 1)

• The Descent of Monsters (The Tensorate Series, 3)

• The Red Threads of Fortune (Kindle Single) (The Tensorate Series Book 2)

Amanda Lee Koe

• Delayed Rays of a Star: A Novel

Ovidia Yu

• Aunty Lee's Delights: A Singaporean Mystery (The Aunty Lee Series)

Meira Chand

• The Gossamer Fly

Kevin Kwan

• China Rich Girlfriend: A Novel

• Crazy Rich Asians (Crazy Rich Asians Trilogy Book 1)

• Locos, ricos y asiáticos (Spanish Edition)

• Rich People Problems (Crazy Rich Asians Trilogy)

• The Crazy Rich Asians Trilogy Box Set: Crazy Rich Asians; China Rich Girlfriend; Rich People Problems

Rachel Heng

• Suicide Club: A Novel About Living

Clarissa Goenawan

• Rainbirds

Jing-Jing Lee

• How We Disappeared: A Novel

Cherian George

• Hate Spin: The Manufacture of Religious Offense and Its Threat to Democracy (Information Policy)

Lesley-Anne Tan and Monica Lim

• Danger Dan And Gadget Girl

Jeremy Tiang

• It Never Rains On National Day: Stories

Cheryl Lu Lien Tan

• A Tiger in the Kitchen: A Memoir of Food and Family

• Sarong Party Girls: A Novel

Suchen Christine Lim

• A Bit of Earth: An Exciting Saga from the First Singapore Literature Prize Winner

• Rice Bowl

Shamini Flint

• Game Changer! (2) (The Susie K Files)

Note: This is not a comprehensive list. You can use this tool to search the list of authors whose works are in the Books3 dataset here.

For context, Books3 follows a tradition of AI companies collecting (often without permission) large amounts of data necessary to train their AI. Its name was inspired by ChatGPT creator OpenAI’s Books1 and Books2 datasets — the contents of the latter remain a mystery.

And Books3 hasn’t only been used by Meta. It is a popular training dataset for AI models which has been downloaded over 500 times in the last month alone. Plus, as OpenAI no longer discloses what data is used to train its AI, it is unclear if it also uses Books3.

I, for one, am curious about what these authors think about their works being used to train AI.

In August, author Margaret Atwood wrote in an op-ed for the Atlantic in response to the revelation that her books were part of the dataset, writing, “They intend to make a lot of money off the entities they have reared and fattened on my words, so they could at least buy me a coffee.”

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In 1994, “The Official Guide to the Sarong Party Girl” was unleashed on Singapore.

Written by Jim Aitchison and illustrated by Theseus Chan, it presented a lewd and satirical depiction of the titular sarong party girl — an Asian woman who exclusively dates caucasian men.

And lewd really is an understatement:

Four years later, Aitchison would go on to publish the first entry to what would become Singapore’s best-selling series of children’s books, Mr Midnight, under the pen name James Lee.

Mr Midnight released its 104th book this year, and even received a Netflix adaptation in 2022 (side note: you couldn’t be blamed for never hearing of it though). According to CNA, Aitchison, a Australian former expat, left Singapore in 2010.

As a 27-year-old who grew up reading at least a half-dozen of the Mr Midnight books — like many other Singaporean kids — finding out the same man wrote the over-the-top sexual and racially-charged SPG books was beyond jarring.

And the deeper I delved into the stories behind both books, the more I found fascinating the picture of Singapore and the author that they presented.

“She is supposed to have a flat head, so a white man can rest his beer on it.”

Frankly, explaining the contents of the book really wouldn’t do it justice.

Here are some excerpts:

• “Unlike their fellow Singaporean workers, SPGs are never on MC unless they are actually on an MC (Male Caucasian).”

• “For the white man, the SPG is not a serious woman, more his plaything, a brown fantasy in a tight black dress.”

• “She is supposed to have a flat head, so a white man can rest his beer on it. And whereas other women have stretch marks on their stomachs, hers are around her mouth.”

• “Expatriate wives fear her the most. As they flit from the Polo Club to the British Council, they suspect that their husbands are diving into bed with a horde of little brown SPGs.”

• “ZOUK: Mostly for teeny SPGs and Wanna-Be-SPGs, who cluster around the entrance waiting to be picked up by men who are older than their fathers. These SPGs are also known as Little Grunters or LBFMs, requiring frequent lubrication with Corona, tequila or vodka. They do not need to drink XO Beer in order to take it lying down.”

If you’re interested in reading the rest, the National Library Board maintains only copies for reference, but a digital copy is available on the Internet Archive.

The success of the “Official Guide” prompted the release of two more books from Aitchison and illustrator Theseus Chan, “Revenge of the Sarong Party Girl” — which takes jabs at Caucasians in Singapore — and “The SPG Rides Again.”

The SPG books were so popular that they made regular appearances on the Straits Times’ best-sellers lists, alongside prolific writer Catherine Lim and the immensely popular Russell Lee’s True Singapore Ghost Stories.

And curiously, its launch parties appeared to be social gatherings where those wearing sarongs — both men and women alike — enjoy two drinks for the price of one, as well as free copies of the SPG books. In other words, folks openly professing their love of the books and the stereotype at its core weren't exactly low-key.

The Sarong Party Girl stereotype and its colonialist roots

To be clear, Aitchison isn't the first to use the term “sarong party girl.” A commonly told story claims that the term originates from colonial rule, when the British would invite local guests clad in sarongs to parties. Over time, the term took on the derogatory connotation it now holds today.

According to a journal article by professor Kuah Khun Eng, the first SPG book’s release “aroused much indignation because of the author's prejudiced treatment of Singapore women.”

And Kuah described how reviews and forum letters about the SPG books, published in the Straits Times, “have been a barometer of the moral outrage directed at the book and, indirectly, at this group of women.”

Much of these discussions are unavailable on the National Library Board’s online newspaper archive, and can only be viewed in person from a library multimedia station.

Tantalisingly, what I could see of the Straits Times’ review online is the headline, “Tone is what really counts,” and the article’s first line: “Should one take offence at the forthcoming book about the Sarong Party Girl? It depends.”

(As an aside, I can’t help being amused by how the paper’s house style appears to not have changed much since the 90s.)

Reader letters about the books published in the Straits Times prompted Aitchison to write his own letter, which the paper published in 1995, titled “Satire can help demolish SPG stereotype.”

In his letter, Aitchison justified his satirical approach as his way of breaking down the SPG stereotype. He also noted the changing political mood on the island and shifting attitudes towards western expats.

“When I came to Singapore and first started learning Chinese, 15 years ago, my expat boss told me I was turning yellow,” wrote Aitchison.

“Memories of colonial class differences and notions of racial superiority do not vanish overnight,” he added, expressing his hope that books like his would provide laughs as prejudices fade.

Two years later, after the launch of his third SPG book, Aitchison told City Weekly that the premise of his series was crude but also “very funny.”

Pivoting to children’s horror stories with a Singaporean twist

It is unclear why Aitchison later adopted a pen name for his Mr Midnight series of books, the first of which came out in 1998.

What is clear, however, is that Mr Midnight would soon become a smash hit and mainstay in Singapore bookstore shelves. Publisher Flame of the Forest claims to have sold over 3 million of the books.

On a CNA radio show about the books' Netflix adaptation, Sadie-Jane Nunis, a former president of the Library Association of Singapore, explained the appeal of Mr Midnight.

“It was localised horror stories that children could see names of other kids that they’re familiar with, maybe, and just relate. It was like the Singaporean version of R.L. Stine,” said Nunis.

And it wasn’t just names — Aitchison also solicited character backstories and settings from readers that he would flesh out into fully-formed books.

Nunis added, “The stories were easy to digest and read. And in fact, one thing that made me really really happy is that it encouraged a lot of kids to pick up reading.”

I myself must confess to Mr Midnight and R.L. Stine's Goosebumps being among the first books I’d ever read, and can credit them for sparking a lifelong love of the horror genre.

Aitchison had a somewhat different explanation for his books’ appeal, however, which he gave during a 2006 interview with the Mail and Guardian:

”Asian kids are very different from American kids. They have different values,” says Aitchison. ”The kids in Asia are a lot more innocent … what would shock an Asian kid in a book, an American kid will think, ‘That’s it?’,” he adds chuckling.

Adding to that, whatever mixed feelings I have about Aitchison and his writing only deepened after watching this video of him receiving an Australian Arts In Asia Literature Award for his Mr Midnight books in 2013.

Here’s the end of his acceptance speech, presented without comment:

There was a Chinese taxi driver and a Caucasian taxi driver. They saw this rich man drive past in a huge Mercedes Benz. And the Caucasian taxi driver said, “look at that bloke, who does he think he is?” And the Chinese taxi driver said, “one day, my son will have a car like that.”

From 1994 to 2023

It's difficult to imagine books like the Sarong Party Girl series — or the opinions held by their author — receiving the same level of mainstream support and interest today in Singapore.

Times have changed since. Expat culture (as it previously existed) is perpetually on the decline. And there appears to be increasing recognition of racial and gender inequalities. Indeed, the SPG books were already contentious when they were first released back in 1994.

At the same time, this is a country that commemorated the 200th anniversary of its colonisation in 2019 — taking a celebratory tone that has few parallels among other former colonies (Check out this DW round-up of the controversy sparked by the Bicentennial).

I found it jarring that these SPG books — though satirical and clearly intended to be provocative — come from the not-so-distant past, filled with references to landmarks and language that still define the Singapore lexicon today.

And for me, there's a tension between that pivot from sexualising teens to writing about them that's hard to resolve.

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Note: Thanks to this Twitter user for tweeting about the SPG books — after I tweeted about the Mr Midnight books. Never would've fallen down this unusual rabbit hole without it.

Singapore's Protection from Online Falsehoods and Manipulation Act (POFMA) has drawn significant controversy since its introduction in October 2019. How has the law been used? And what are its likely impacts on online misinformation and freedom of expression in Singapore?

This article uses the data I gathered for the POFMA’ed Dataset (see the methodology here) and some of the key insights from my article for the International Journal of Communication on how civil society in Singapore is affected by POFMA. By breaking down the 96 instances of POFMA’s use in terms of who it targets, what content it targets, and on what platforms, this article evaluates how Singapore is using its anti fake news law.

How does the POFMA'ed Dataset count uses of POFMA?

The dataset distinguishes between Reports, POFMA Uses and Communications.

Report. Each Report of POFMA legislation’s usage released by the government (via a POFMA Office Press Release) is given a Report number. Note that a Report can describe multiple POFMA uses, affecting different electronic communications.

POFMA Use. Each use of POFMA legislation (a direction or order) is given a POFMA Use number. Note that a single POFMA direction or order can apply to multiple communications.

Communication. Each distinct electronic communication which has been subject to a use of POFMA legislation is given a Communication number. Note that a single electronic communication can be subject to multiple uses of POFMA legislation.

These distinctions are necessary because of how a single Report can describe multiple uses of the POFMA legislation, each of which could affect multiple distinct electronic Communications.

For example:

• According to Report 1, a Facebook post is the subject of a Correction Direction, issued to Individual A and requiring them to amend this post.

• According to Report 2, this same Facebook post is also the subject of a Targeted Correction Direction, issued to Facebook and requiring them to amend this post, due to Individual A's non-compliance with their Correction Direction.

This dataset would thus track that Facebook post as one Communication, subject to two distinct POFMA uses, according to two distinct Reports.

Explainer: What even is POFMA?

POFMA was introduced in October 2019 as Singapore’s legislative response to online misinformation. The law can be used to (among other things) require someone to post a correction notice for a statement they have made, or to require platforms or service providers to block access to specific pieces of content. A prerequisite for all uses of POFMA is that it is in the public interest, and that it targets falsehoods.

However, POFMA defines both of these terms very broadly. Public interest includes (but is not limited to) public confidence in government and friendly relations with other countries. POFMA has also drawn controversy for how it defines falsehoods and its impact on freedom of expression in Singapore.

The vast majority of times POFMA has been invoked, it was used to issue correction directions, which require users or platforms to include a notice indicating that a specific post or article contains a false statement of fact. Non-compliance is an offence, and on conviction, one is liable to a fine or imprisonment.

Only a small minority of POFMA’s uses go beyond the labelling of content as misinformation: Malaysian organisation Lawyers for Liberty had their website blocked under POFMA after accusing Singapore of conducting its executions in a brutal manner. Alex Tan, an Australia-based dissident, has had multiple Facebook pages (including the States Times Review) blocked under POFMA.

Any minister can instruct the POFMA Office to issue a direction or order under POFMA if the above conditions of falsehood and public interest are met. However, the procedure by which falsehoods are discovered is unclear, and there is ambiguity over who exactly is responsible for detecting misinformation in Singapore's media landscape to the ministers. According to the Singapore government directory, the POFMA Office has only 10 listed employees, of which only 5 work under "directions, compliance & investigations."

POFMA in numbers: Who gets POFMA'ed?

The actors most frequently subject to correction directions are opposition groups or figures, such as the Singapore Democratic Party (SDP) or Lim Tean, leader of the opposition party, People’s Voice. One figure, Alex Tan, the controversial figure behind the States Times Review, accounts for 18 of these POFMA uses — the most of any target actor.

Media platforms such as Facebook, Twitter and SPH (who run the HardwareZone Forum) have also been subject to POFMA. These platforms can receive "targeted" or "general" correction directions. Targeted correction directions require them to include a correction notice over specific statements made on their platforms.

Meanwhile, general correction directions require these platforms to share a correction notice more broadly, sometimes towards all their users in Singapore.

Other than Australia-based Alex Tan, and the Malaysia-based groups New Naratif and Lawyers for Liberty, there have been no known instances of other foreign actors being subject to POFMA. This is despite some of the high-profile falsehoods identified by the Singapore government originating abroad.

A Taiwanese talk show made allegations about Ho Ching's salary before POFMA's use against local politician Lim Tean and independent news website The Online Citizen for making similar allegations. An Indian politician was the first to spread the idea that a new COVID variant had been discovered in Singapore, but POFMA was used on Facebook, Twitter and the HardwareZone Forum to require these platforms to display a notice to all users in Singapore, while the politician himself was not targeted.

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What gets POFMA'ed?

Half of all POFMA uses (48 out of 96) have been directed at content relating to the COVID-19 pandemic. A notable example of this is the use of POFMA against Truth Warriors, a website spreading anti-vaccine misinformation.

Nearly all POFMA uses are directed at statements which relate to government institutions or officials (e.g. ministers and ministries, schools, prisons), government policies (e.g. the budget, population policies, POFMA), or the government’s handling of COVID.

There are a few exceptions to this, including: allegations about the salary of Ho Ching (CEO of Temasek and wife of the Prime Minister); allegations that a new COVID variant had been discovered in Singapore; allegations that Singapore was running out of its supply of surgical masks; allegations that the COVID vaccine is ineffective and that ivermectin should be used against COVID; and allegations about the Omicron variant being a combination of HIV and COVID.

Even though large sections of the law specifically target online inauthentic behaviour, such as bots or phishing, there are no reported instances of POFMA being used to target online scams or online mass manipulation through bots. Instead, such misinformation seems to fall under the purview of the ministries’ communication teams or local media:

In the fight against fake news, Facebook is the main battleground

The vast majority of POFMA uses have been directed at content shared on Facebook, which accounts for 66 out of the 99 total communications subject to POFMA.

This pattern potentially highlights a key flaw in POFMA. Its statement-specific and legalistic approach to misinformation does not address forms of misinformation which are beyond the state's notice or which are inherently harder to track — such as conspiracy theories, foreign influence operations, and xenophobic rumours which spread through more dispersed platforms like WhatsApp and Telegram.

Which minister has used POFMA the most?

Each use of POFMA has been requested by a minister or an alternate authority (appointed during election periods), with one exception. Ministers usually target statements which fall within the domain of their work. For example, the Minister of Health has invoked POFMA against health misinformation such as allegations that COVID vaccines are ineffective at reducing COVID transmission.

It should come as no surprise that the most ardent advocate for POFMA is also its most prolific user. Minister for Law and Home Affairs K Shanmugam has requested at least 19 POFMA uses, the most of any minister. However, the Ministry of Health, previously helmed by Gan Kim Yong, and currently led by Ong Ye Kung, is responsible for the most POFMA uses overall (20).

Only three ministries have never made use of POFMA: Defence (MinDef); Culture, Community & Youth (MCCY); and Sustainability and the Environment (MSE).

Is POFMA’s use declining in favour of other tools?

The period which saw the greatest number of POFMA uses was the General Election 2020. The month of the election (July 2020) saw 27 POFMA uses, the most of any month since the POFMA's introduction. Following this, and until April 2021, there was an 8-month gap in which there were no reported uses of POFMA.

Notably, POFMA's usage has been declining over time. In 2020, POFMA was used an average of 9.14 times a month, while in 2022 (so far), POFMA has been used an average of 1.5 times per month.

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Is POFMA an effective tool for countering misinformation?

Sometimes, the usage of POFMA can be counter-productive to the intended goal of curbing the spread of misinformation. Nearly every use of POFMA is coupled with reports from local media, outlining what falsehoods have been subject to the law, and potentially bringing it to the attention of many who might otherwise never have seen it.

Some uses of POFMA have also drawn international attention and scrutiny, putting the statements it targets under a global spotlight:

Perhaps the best example of this counterproductive effect is when it was used against social media posts speculating about the salary of the Prime Minister's wife, Ho Ching. This use of POFMA drew intense coverage from international media, and outcry from Singapore netizens. Indeed, Google search interest in the term "Ho Ching's Salary" spiked in the period when POFMA was used (19-25 April). A similar trend can also be seen for search interest in the term “truth warriors” after POFMA was used against the Truth Warriors website, which promotes anti-vaccine misinformation.

Here, we can see POFMA falling prey to what is known as the "Streisand Effect", where attempts to counter the spread of a specific piece of content instead make it more viral.

However, this is not always the case. I previously highlighted how POFMA's lightning rod, Alex Tan, has created a new Facebook page whenever one is banned. Each subsequent Facebook page has seen a significant decrease in the number of followers, showing that when POFMA shows its teeth, its targets do feel the crunch.

The Lawyers for Liberty website is also no longer accessible in Singapore due to POFMA. While search interest in "lawyers for liberty" in Singapore spiked in the immediate aftermath of the POFMA order, search interest for the organisation in Singapore has flattened to nothing in the long-term, despite the organisation's ongoing involvement in lobbying the Singaporean and Malaysian governments over high-profile death penalty cases.

Overall, for those spreading allegations about a cover-up from the state or conspiracy theories (with low trust in the state and official sources), more research is necessary to understand whether POFMA persuades these readers or hardens their distrust. Research about vaccine hesitancy among the elderly points to trust in formal information sources correlating with vaccination status. Whether POFMA helps to persuade those who are already sceptical towards official sources remains an open question.

POFMA and its impact on political discourse

POFMA is part of a broader trend of states introducing new legislation to tackle the problem of misinformation. In this larger trend, there is growing concern over how these new laws might influence political discourse, and whether they might constitute new forms of censorship.

As part of an academic journal article on POFMA, I conducted a qualitative and interview-driven study with 17 Singapore-based academics, journalists, and activists on their experiences with POFMA and other laws governing speech in Singapore. Two key themes emerge across most interviewees:

The first is that POFMA allows the state to create highly visible rebuttals. However, in doing so, POFMA also potentially creates new openings for highly visible backlash and resistance, triggering further discussion and debate due to the spotlight it casts on a specific statement.

The appeals process for POFMA is illustrative of this. Although most POFMA uses go uncontested, a few have been challenged in court — which then become subject to intense media scrutiny, both locally and internationally. Most notably, the SDP succeeded in having part of the POFMA direction against them overturned, only to be slapped with another new POFMA direction. SDP's statement about their plans to appeal against this highlights how POFMA can contribute to and prolong the media cycle and social media discussion of these "falsehoods", rather than the opposite.

Secondly and perhaps more importantly, POFMA has a more subtle impact in that it raises the bar of evidence necessary for statements about politics in Singapore, without necessarily making more evidence or data available for discussion. Ambiguities and uncertainties around both POFMA and other laws governing speech can lead to greater self-censorship. It can also motivate some users to move away from more public platforms like Facebook to spaces less subject to surveillance or scrutiny.

Again, the appeals process for POFMA is revealing. After conflicting views between different judges, Singapore’s High Court has ruled that the burden of proof lies with the recipient of a correction direction when seeking to make a legal challenge. Without access to data or information necessary to confirm or substantiate allegations which become subject to POFMA, this functionally means that a vast swathe of issues on which comprehensive and publicly available data does not exist are beyond the realm of contentious online discussion.

The future of POFMA

POFMA is only one part of Singapore’s "whole-of-society" approach to countering misinformation. Other tools include the use of media literacy campaigns, such as the National Library Board’s SURE, or the use of government communications and local media to highlight misinformation and inauthentic behaviour.

However, POFMA’s declining usage points to ambiguities over POFMA’s current purpose. Its pattern of use suggests that other tools are becoming more important in the Singapore government’s approach to misinformation — or at least, for misinformation which goes beyond that which undermines trust in public institutions.

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What is Singapore's relationship to spyware, or software which enables an actor to covertly obtain information from a device? Recent years have seen a drastic rise in news coverage on states' use of spyware, which has drawn controversy because of its use against not only national security threats, but also civilian targets such as activists and journalists.

Across these stories, a small but recurring thread is Singapore's presence in leaks and coverage of controversial spyware firms — from FinFisher to Hacking Team to Ability to QuaDream. This article compiles these instances in a single accessible timeline:

2013: Internet monitoring device used in Singapore

A 2013 Citizen Lab report revealed that Packetshaper was used in Singapore. Packetshaper is a device created by US-based company Blue Coat Systems that is capable of monitoring web traffic and filtering the internet.

2015: Singapore company listed as client of FinFisher

A Wikileaks release listed Singapore company PCS Security as a client of FinFisher. FinFisher is a German firm that sells spyware exploiting bugs in popular software such as iTunes or Microsoft Word to take control of or extract information from a target device.

Tech in Asia previously reported on PCS Security's government ties: "What makes it worse is when government agencies are the primary customers of that particular company." The Online Citizen reported that PCS Security was owned by another firm, the Phoenix Co-Operative Society, and pointed out that Phoenix was (at the time) one of two firms in Singapore that was given a very specific exemption under the Co-Operative Societies Act.

The Wikileaks release also alleged that using the software cost PCS Security at least 3,166,560 Euros (around 5.1 million SGD in 2012). The Wikileaks release also included support requests from PCS Security, including one which allegedly asked:

"I have a target which the computer is already infected with finspy. Would like to check is there any way which I could upload an executable to the target computer and then execute it?"

2015: Singapore listed as client of Hacking Team

In 2015, a Singapore government body (the Infocomm Development Agency) was listed as a customer in the leaked data of surveillance tech company Hacking Team. This Italy-based firm marketed itself as providing "effective, easy-to-use offensive technology to the worldwide law enforcement and intelligence communities" — but a Citizen Lab report points to links between Hacking Team and the government agencies of 21 mostly non-democratic or authoritarian states.

Screenshots from the leak allege that Singapore's InfoComm Development Agency (IDA) was an "active" client. Hacking Team's now-defunct website stated:

"It doesn’t matter if you are after an Android phone or a Windows computer: you can monitor all the devices. Remote Control System is invisible to the user, evades antivirus and firewalls, and doesn’t affect the devices’ performance or battery life. Hack into your targets with the most advanced infection vectors available. Enter his wireless network and tackle tactical operations with ad-hoc equipment designed to operate while on the move."

Professor Eugene Tan of Singapore Management University gave this comment as part of a story by Digital Media Asia after the leak:

"I would say that we are in a state of affairs in which very little is known about what the Government conducts surveillance on, how it does it, and the regulatory controls in place."

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2017: Singapore reportedly a client of Ability Inc.

In 2017, Ability Inc, an Israeli surveillance company specialising in cellphone snooping technologies, faced a leak and lawsuits over its misconduct. What was Ability selling? According to the Forbes report on this leak:

Sales data handed to Forbes, dated 2015-2016, shows shipments of a variety of spy tools, including its Touchdown tech for intercepting and decrypting 3G cellphone communications and its In-Between Interception System (IBIS) product for 2G. The 3GCat, meanwhile, would downgrade connections from 3G to 2G, the latter having weaker security protections and therefore easier to snoop on.

According to Forbes, clients in Singapore spent 5 to 7.5 million USD on Ability's technology. While Forbes was unable to confirm which government agency was behind the purchase, Ability reportedly only sold its technology to law enforcement and intelligence agencies.

2018: Pegasus and the NSO Group

A 2018 Citizen Lab analysis found suspected Pegasus spyware infections in 45 countries, including Singapore. The Israeli spyware firm behind Pegasus, NSO Group, became subject to intense media scrutiny in 2021, after revelations that Pegasus was used against journalists, activists and politicians by government agencies across the globe.

Pegasus is noteworthy for its "zero-click" attacks, which can infect a phone device without interaction from its user. After infection, Pegasus can extract information such as email and calendar data, record phone calls, and activate the phone's camera. According to the Guardian's explainer on Pegasus:

One of the most significant challenges that Pegasus presents to journalists and human rights defenders is the fact that the software exploits undiscovered vulnerabilities, meaning even the most security-conscious mobile phone user cannot prevent an attack.

“This is a question that gets asked to me pretty much every time we do forensics with somebody: ‘What can I do to stop this happening again?’” said Guarnieri. “The real honest answer is nothing.”

2021: Singapore user(s) targeted by Candiru

A 2021 Citizen Lab analysis exposed Candiru, another Israeli mercenary spyware firm, which exploited security vulnerabilities in Windows. A Microsoft investigation found over 100 victims of Candiru, and identified at least one victim located in Singapore.

2021: Singapore firm COSEINC blacklisted by US

A Singapore-based cybersecurity firm, COSEINC, was blacklisted by the US in 2021. COSEINC was blacklisted alongside high-profile firms that have drawn intense controversy over their surveillance of politicians, journalists and activists, such as Pegasus and Candiru.

According to their website, COSEINC is a "Singapore based and privately funded company dedicated to providing highly specialized information security services to our clients. Founded in 2004, we are a young and dynamic company made up of computer security experts, from diverse backgrounds and geographies, with distinguished credentials and experience." Their website lists an Advanced Malware Lab and Vulnerability Research Lab.

Since the blacklisting, the Cyber Security Agency of Singapore has stated that it is "looking into the matter." COSEINC's webpages from 2020 (found on the internet archive) indicate that COSEINC was active in organising activities that were "driven by" Singapore's Infocomm Media Development Authority (IMDA):

Edit: According to information from the government procurement platform, COSEINC was awarded a SGD 184,067.59 contract for "Provision of Accredited Cybersecurity Training and Certification" by Singapore's Ministry of Defence in 2018.

2021: Singapore journalists potentially targeted by cyber mercenaries

In December 2021, Facebook suspended around 1,500 fake accounts used by 7 surveillance-for-hire firms to target users on their platform. As part of this move to ban these cyber mercenaries on their platform, they also informed nearly 50,000 Facebook users who have potentially been targeted by these groups.

Singapore journalists Kirsten Han and Terry Xu shared on social media that they received a security notice from Facebook, warning them "that a sophisticated attacker may be targeting your Facebook account."

The 7 banned firms are located in Israel, India, North Macedonia and China, and sold their services to more than two dozen countries. According to Facebook and the Citizen Lab, these firms have previously targeted prominent activists and human rights defenders, and had even been used on behalf of Hollywood rapist Harvey Weinstein.

2022: Singapore reportedly a client of spyware firm QuaDream

A Reuters investigation found that another spyware firm had been exploiting the same flaw in Apple's software used by NSO Group's Pegasus spyware. The firm, QuaDream, is a smaller Israeli firm that also develops hacking tools intended for government clients. According to Reuters:

One of QuaDream's first clients was the Singaporean government, two of the sources said, and documentation reviewed by Reuters shows the company's surveillance technology was pitched to the Indonesian government as well. Reuters couldn't determine if Indonesia became a client.

Curiously, the Straits Times' print coverage of this story excluded this mention of Singapore. The online article still retains this passage, however.

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Beyond spyware as surveillance

While the threat of spyware is drawing the greatest amount of public attention, one should not overlook other forms of surveillance, which can be far more pervasive and normalised. These examples can be seen in nearly all walks of life in Singapore:

Monitoring students: Singapore's Ministry of Education plans to require monitoring software on students' laptops, capturing students' search data to target "objectionable content" and allowing teachers to remotely monitor and control these devices. A student-led petition against this decision asks:

Will the [Device Management Application] help students become more mature? Will it bring about lasting behavioral benefits? Will it solve the root of the problem in the long term? Or will it bring about temporary, superficial, short term consent, at the cost of a permanent opinion malus, a hatred of authority, and a loss of privacy? Does [the Ministry of Education] not strive to build a values-based education?

Monitoring migrant workers: Migrant workers in Singapore have been subject to intense surveillance in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic, via apps (the SGWorkPass app, on top of the TraceTogether app used by most citizens) and via patrolling robots. These tools are used to police everything from their recreation time to whether they are allowed to leave their dorms. According to Rest of World, the robots used to surveil migrant workers "got out of the dormitories before the migrant workers did," when similar robots were deployed to patrol a residential district while migrant workers continued to face repressive lockdowns.

Monitoring public spaces: Singapore's Minister of Home Affairs has announced plans to double the number of security cameras in Singapore to over 200,000 by 2030. Compared to other cities, this would place Singapore within the list of most surveilled cities in the world. These figures do not include other forms of public surveillance, like Singapore's planned rollout of "smart street lamps" intended to detect speeding e-scooters and predict "unruly crowds."

Monitoring prisons: Singapore's prison system is now making greater use of video analytics and facial recognition in its surveillance of prisoners. Channel News Asia's recent documentary series on life in Singapore's prisons also shows some of the extent of the surveillance that prisoners in maximum security live with.

Monitoring everything? After the United States' controversial Total Information Awareness (TIA) surveillance project fell out of favour under public and congressional scrutiny in 2003 for seeking to impose mass surveillance on American citizens, it inspired a more all-encompassing and centralised surveillance project in Singapore. One of its architects, John Poindexter, even consulted on this Singapore project, which became known as the Risk Assessment and Horizon Scanning (RAHS) program.

RAHS was launched in 2004 and analyses a wide range of sources (which the government does not disclose) for indicators of potential threats, by combining big data with hypothetical narratives constructed by analysts. Foreign Policy reported that the government has acknowledged that publicly available information (such as social media content) is monitored.

The exact boundaries of cyber surveillance in Singapore, from both the state and other sources, remain unclear. The lack of laws to protect privacy ensures that this is likely to remain the status quo, with few options for those demanding transparency or accountability over the growing surveillance in their lives.

Adding to this Timeline

Have a tip or suggestion? Contact Singapore Samizdat via teokaixiang@protonmail.com.

Corrections: The article initially stated that "a client in Singapore spent 7.5 million USD on Ability's technology." This was an error, and has been amended to "clients in Singapore spent 5 to 7.5 million USD on Ability's technology."

Singapore is known for its tough and pro-death penalty stance on drugs, to the point of drawing international condemnation for seeking to execute a man with an intellectual disability for smuggling drugs. On the face of it, such an approach seems like it would be effective in curbing drug addiction and trafficking, but much of the evidence shows otherwise.

According to the Singapore Prison Service, those convicted of drug offences made up around 67% of Singapore’s prison population in 2020. When compared to other contexts, this is a disproportionately high figure. According to the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime, around 19% of male prisoners and 35% of female prisoners are imprisoned for drug offences worldwide. Moreover, the issue of drug abuse has been a persistent one in Singapore, with a stable number of both new and repeat offenders over the past decade.

What explains the contradictions between Singapore's drug policy and its actual outcomes? This issue of Singapore Samizdat explores Singapore's war on drugs, and the censorship and social costs behind it.

Singapore's anti-drug policies are nightmarish for the underprivileged, negligible to the rich

While Singapore actively dehumanises drug users and justifies punitive measures against them, the actual impact of its drug policies differs greatly between groups.

Many of Singapore's drug policies have a horrifying potential for cruelty. Singapore’s Criminal Law (Temporary Provisions) Act allows the authorities to detain an individual indefinitely without trial, if they are suspected of drug trafficking. Singapore's Misuse of Drugs Act makes it an offence to not only traffic drugs, but also to provide information on drug use (even online). The authorities can also demand a urine test without a warrant, with refusal seen as a sign of guilt.

In response to recent allegations that cruel treatment from the Central Narcotics Bureau led to the suicide of a Singaporean teen, the authorities' internal probe found no wrongdoing, despite an impassioned plea from the teen's mother. But cases like these are not one-offs. The Transformative Justice Collective has shared stories from those who have experienced this dehumanising and cruel treatment, which are far from rehabilitative.

But the worst by far is reserved for those who are caught up in drug trafficking. Numerous reports and investigations have shown that drug mules (those who carry drugs for international drug rings) often do so under duress and coercion, or because of deception or desperation. Some do so unwittingly, becoming victims simply by grabbing the wrong piece of luggage.

Singapore's drug laws presume drug possession even in cases where there is no evidence that one has come into physical contact with the drug, and requires the death sentence for possession past a certain amount. Many have argued that such harsh laws only catch those on the lowest rungs of organised crime, and does little to dissuade bosses and kingpins, who can avoid drug possession while profiting from such crime.

Racial and sexual minorities

How do Singapore's drug policies impact racial and sexual minorities? While Singapore's resident population is more than 70% Chinese, racial minorities are disproportionately represented among drug offenders:

A lawsuit was recently filed on behalf of 17 Malay death row inmates accusing the government of racial bias (though it was dismissed in early December). Singapore has even been questioned on the disproportionate impact of its use of the death sentence by the United Nations' Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination:

In the context of Singapore, there was a minority ethnic problem. Malay made up 13 per cent of the population, yet figures showed that they made up 84 per cent of executions for drug trafficking. That was a gross disproportionality. There had to be a reason to explain that difference.

Prior testimonies also suggest that sexual minorities receive different treatment from drug enforcement authorities. A story for the Transformative Justice Collective writes:

The other inmates offered him tips, pointing out to him the “homosexual cell” that was visible through the little sliver on their cell door. According to them, those who declare themselves to be homosexual are incarcerated in DRC for 12 months with no chance of release, while others have the chance to access programmes after 4 to 6 months.

As I write this issue, I cannot help but recall my experience of being taken in by the Singapore Armed Forces' military police for drug testing, and being told that the reason I was to be tested was because someone in my unit had informed them that I am gay. As part of my interview, I was asked probing and disturbing questions about my sexuality. Even after a negative drug test, the military police grilled me for the names of all the gay men I knew in the military, for reasons that I can only speculate on.

But for the wealthy and privileged...

For those able to afford discreet treatment and trips to partake in vice, Singapore's drug policies have an unequal impact. Recreational drug tourism (visiting other countries to consume drugs which are illegal in your own jurisdiction) is a growing industry. Non-legal consumption is also a driver of tourism to a number of destinations — such as Bangkok, Prague, Berlin, and Bogota — a concept that is far from alien to Singaporeans. Further, much less attention is dedicated by the government to the abuse of prescription drugs for recreational purposes, an issue more likely to be prevalent among the haves than the have-nots.

In cases of addiction, the rich can turn to international rehabilitation centre chains such as The Cabin, which offers “the strictest standards of confidentiality” and treatment at an inpatient rehab centre in Chiang Mai, Thailand. This “luxury facility is worlds away from all addiction triggers making it an ideal setting to begin the healing process.” Contrast this to government-run rehabilitation centers and the gap between the rich and the poor in accessing treatment becomes stark.

Noteworthy cases of charges being brought against members of the privileged upper class include the trials of high society figures such as Dinesh Bhatia or Ong Jenn. The former was even represented in court by the current Minister of Law and Home Affairs Shanmugam himself, who reportedly argued that Bhatia did not realise the substance he was snorting was cocaine. He was given an eight-month prison sentence, part of which was reportedly served from home.

In an age of increasing global liberalisation and scientific support towards the legalisation of drugs such as cannabis, Singapore's restrictive policies essentially create one set of rules for transnational elites and another for those who are Singapore-bound.

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Singapore is killing rational discourse on drug abuse and trafficking

A little-known fact about censorship on Netflix is that most government-requested takedowns of Netflix’s content come from Singapore. According to Netflix, 7 out of the 13 programs removed from a country's platform were requested by Singapore — making Singapore Netflix’s “most censored market”. Nearly all of them contain depictions of drug or alcohol use. For a small city-state, Singapore certainly punches above its weight in censorship.

Potential reasons for this overzealous censorship include the Misuse of Drugs Act, or Singapore’s content standards, which prohibit programmes that “promote drug or psychoactive substance abuse, or includes detailed and instructive depictions of drug or psychoactive substance abuse.” This broad and often-arbitrary policing of narratives relating to drug use is not restricted to Netflix, and extends across media platforms in Singapore.

Under this policy, the state restricts the kinds of narratives surrounding drug use that Singaporeans can see — a symptom of Singapore's lacking nuance in issues of addiction and recreational drug use — while pushing its own narratives.

High.sg: how Singapore exploits narratives to justify execution and incarceration

One need only look at Singapore’s first interactive film to see this in action. High.sg is an interactive film much like Netflix’s Bandersnatch. Funded by the National Council Against Drug Abuse, this interactive experience presents a cliched story that Singaporeans should know all too well. A chaste and Chinese everyman protagonist is lured into a world of drugs and addiction by a seductive woman and her stereotypical gangster clique, turning his life upside down.

Like much of the material used in drug education in Singapore, the story claims to show "the two sides of drugs," the horrifying truth of drug abuse that drug dealers do not want you to know. In actuality, High is an overly simplistic tale that associates drug use with smoke-filled rooms, strobe lights, party girls, good sex, and walking racial/gender stereotypes. Explorations of the underlying social issues and complex motivations which contribute to drug use are peripheral to the idea that drug use is solely a selfish and irrational choice, a point which the story repeatedly hammers into the viewer by allowing them to make choices at key points in the story.

By painting drug users as irrational deviants in need of state control and guidance, state-sponsored narratives like High justify harsh punishment and mass incarceration, without addressing the social inequalities and issues which allow drug abuse to propagate itself in society. The lacking nuance in such stories is made all the more troubling when one considers the intensity with which the state pushes such campaigns on the public, and censors or delegitimises views that it disagrees with.

With narratives such as these, is it any wonder that public opinion backs cruel and punitive measures against drug users and traffickers?

That is not to say that exceptions to the norm do not exist. Singapore students of a certain age might remember reading Alfian Sa'at's short story, Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Hanging, for their secondary school literature classes. Thirteen Ways is a thought-provoking and grim fictional depiction of a man sentenced to hang for drug possession. Sadly, stories such as these are few and far between in the mainstream.

The result: say no to drugs, on steroids:

Both domestically and internationally, Singapore pushes the idea that there is no difference between “soft” and "hard" drugs. Soft drugs are commonly understood to be less hazardous, and thus usually require less strict controls and punishment. For example, many states consider cannabis (marijuana) to be a “soft” drug.

Singapore refuses to recognise any such distinction, and instead peddles overly simplistic education materials — which include flawed statements like cannabis (which is legal in many jurisdictions, for either recreational or medical purposes) being just as bad as heroin.

Placing all drugs in the same category allows government officials to more easily create misleading straw man arguments against those campaigning for an end to the death sentence, by accusing such groups of seeking to legalise a number of harmful substances.

Ultimately, such narratives are harmful, partially because they often do not work (studies in other contexts indicate that similar drug education programmes can have no effect) and partially because they are misleading. Individuals exposed to drug use who come to realise that the state's discourse is out of touch with reality are less likely to trust the state in the future.

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Singapore's harsh stance on drugs is not evidence-based

When pressed to defend Singapore's death penalty, the Singapore government has cited reasons such as the reduction in opium (a drug that has become increasingly obsolete and unpopular globally) trafficking in Singapore and a 15-19% reduction in the likelihood that one would traffic a volume of cannabis that would warrant the death sentence (500 grams). The state has also argued that there is strong public support for the death penalty — without acknowledging that popularity does not constitute scientific consensus or evidence.

Singapore has also argued in favour of its zero-tolerance strategy, in opposition to harm reduction policies gaining ground elsewhere in the world (most notably in Portugal, the Netherlands and Switzerland). Minister Shanmugam has even argued against the United Nations' reclassification of cannabis as a less harmful drug. The Minister has claimed that profit motives are behind the scientific evidence for the use of cannabis for medical purposes, and that Southeast Asia is the second-largest market for methamphetamine (which the UN decision does not affect).

What is harm reduction? Harm reduction is an approach to drug policy grounded in human rights. It aims to reduce the negative impacts of drug use by focusing "on positive change and on working with people without judgement, coercion, discrimination, or requiring that they stop using drugs as a precondition of support." Key principles include a commitment to evidence, a commitment to social justice, respecting the rights of drug users, and the avoidance of stigma.

The actual scientific evidence for the effectiveness of the death penalty and mass incarceration for deterring drug-related offences is limited and often contradictory:

• Many studies have found that there is no link between imprisonment for drug offences and a reduction in drug-related crimes.

• Indeed, studies also point out that evidence for the deterrent effect of the death sentence is inconclusive. Some have argued that death sentences brutalise society, undermining the value of human life and potentially having the counter-productive effect of causing more murders.

• Many studies also explain that addiction should not be seen as a crime, but instead as a health issue to be treated. These studies call for states to adopt a harm reduction / public health approach to drug abuse.

Crucially, while there remain ambiguities behind key questions in drug enforcement, there is little credible evidence supporting the use of the death penalty, or the use of mass incarceration over treatment.

Why drugs are not like cigarettes or alcohol, or what evidence-based policy looks like

In contrast to Singapore's approach to drug policy, one can look at another set of policies driven by research on human behaviour and economics: Singapore's approach to restricting cigarettes and alcohol.

Rather than outright banning cigarettes or alcohol, Singapore uses a variety of subtle measures to disincentivise smoking and alcohol consumption, like raising prices through taxes or restricting when/where cigarettes and alcohol can be consumed (fewer smoking corners, requiring alcohol permits to sell past a certain time). Consequently, Singapore ranks as the fourth most expensive city to buy a pint of beer out of 48 major cities, and as the eighth most expensive country in the world for buying cigarettes.

These techniques are effective, with Singapore's alcohol consumption among the lowest in the Asia-Pacific region, and with tobacco consumption reducing every year. Notably, the success of these policies speaks for itself, despite mixed public support — has anyone ever cheered for the rising price of alcohol? Crucially, while the demand for cigarettes and alcohol is very sensitive to differences in price and accessibility, the same cannot be said for drugs. Against intuition, research indicates that limiting supply or criminalising drugs does not always lower demand, and other strategies may be more effective.

Is harm reduction incompatible with Singapore?

An alternative to criminalisation and harsh punitive measures is harm reduction. However, Singapore has frequently argued that harm reduction does not work, pointing to its brief legalisation of subutex as a prime example. Subutex (also known as buprenorphine) is an opioid prescribed by doctors to treat addiction to opioids such as heroin. Hoping to tackle the use of heroin in Singapore, the state legalised subutex in 2002. By 2006, subutex was banned and made a controlled drug. The state has stated that this was because it had observed the emergence of a "needle culture", which saw drug users abuse subutex by mixing it with other substances.

However, some have argued that there were issues with Singapore's legalisation of subutex, such as a lack of training and preparation for doctors who prior to this rarely dealt with drug abuse, or the evidence for how suboxone (a mixture of buprenorphine and naloxone) would be a better option due to its far lower potential for abuse.

Additionally, research from other contexts where subutex is available show that there are medical benefits even for illicit subutex use, as those using it generally seek to wean themselves off of dependence to worse opioids. This is especially relevant for those who cannot or will not access substance abuse treatment, when they try to escape the revolving door of opioid abuse.

Although the Singapore government considers its brief legalisation of subutex as evidence for the failure of harm reduction measures, one can also see how the state's brief and ill-planned approach to subutex is what doomed harm reduction in Singapore.

Does harm reduction work? In 2001, Portugal took the radical step of decriminalising personal drug possession. Possession is no longer punishable with imprisonment, and those found in possession are instead referred to health and social services, freeing up the police to pursue more severe drug-related issues (such as trafficking). Currently, Portugal has among the lowest rates of drug consumption in Europe and has significantly reduced the negative social impacts of drugs. Experts have argued that it was not only the decriminalisation that made this possible, but also the state's support of harm reduction and expansion of treatment/support services.

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An end to Singapore’s War on Drugs?

While there are small signs that Singapore’s harsh stance on drugs is changing, the broad direction of Singapore's drug policies remains unchanged. In 2012, Singapore amended its laws to create narrow exceptions to its mandatory death penalty for drug trafficking. In 2019, Singapore's laws were again amended, this time to allow for repeat offenders without other offences to undergo rehabilitation without incarceration, and to allow for some offenders to undergo rehabilitation without gaining a criminal record. However, during a recent speech, Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong, explicitly condemned harm reduction approaches and the global trend towards legalisation — rejecting reform and backing a continuation of current efforts.

Elsewhere, efforts to dehumanise drug users and traffickers, and to ruthlessly incarcerate or execute them have been widely acknowledged as unjust, cruel and ineffective. The world is entering a tipping point, with global perceptions of drug use becoming more nuanced, and movements to abolish the death penalty and mass incarceration gaining ground.

The path to the end of the war on drugs is paved with ruined lives. For Singapore to achieve a more compassionate, rehabilitative and evidence-based approach to drug policy, Singaporeans should not turn a blind eye to the suffering that today’s drug policy entails. Take action by adding your name to the petition to pardon Nagaenthran, by supporting the Transformative Justice Collective, or by volunteering your time as a Befriender or Volunteer with the Singapore Prison Service.

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What do arcades, Half-Life and Mass Effect have in common? All of them were at one point banned in Singapore. From the early 80s to today, this brief history of video game censorship explores how Singapore's restrictions were shaped by backlash, industry and the press.

1983: “Protect morals of our young with a ban” — Anti-Video Arcade Parent

As the popularity of arcade games was booming across the world, Singapore was busy imposing a nationwide ban on arcades, reportedly because of parental concerns over video game addiction (some things never change).

The 80s were tough times for arcade operators, who had to sell off their assets and close up shop. When some of these operators applied to convert their arcades into billiards saloons, their applications were rejected by the Ministry of Home Affairs.

These were also interesting times for video game enthusiasts, who wrote letters justifying the value of games to an occasionally hostile public. In response to an article entitled “Video Game Menace”, one writer explained how video games can improve motor functions, and sought to distance home video games from the “truancy” and “hooligans” associated with arcades.

A year later, video game enthusiasts were finding creative ways around the ban. Beyond playing video games at home, enthusiasts who lacked computers at home could also rent time at computer terminals in shops, at rates ranging from $2 to $4 an hour. It is worth noting that these early internet cafes predate the world's first official internet cafes (which started in the US and UK around 1991 and 1994).

By the 90s, the ban on arcades had been lifted and had given way to a thriving arcade scene — so the video game enthusiasts clearly had the anti-gaming parents beat.

1994 Onwards: Singapore vs Violent Video Games

New censorship guidelines on video games were introduced by the government in 1994, prohibiting video games from showing sadistic acts or excessive violence. One of the most well-known casualties of this new censorship regime was Mortal Kombat, a fighting game known for its comically over-the-top finishing moves.

In 1996, Singapore's Board of Film Censors was raiding shops to seize copies of Mortal Kombat 3. How impactful these raids were is unclear, with some media reports from this time mentioning piracy as a workaround to the ban. This writer can only imagine what it must have been like to live in a time when Mortal Kombat was a controlled substance.

Such raids and seizures reportedly continued even into the early 2000s, when video game censors banned Valve’s blockbuster video game Half-Life and raided LAN shops to remove the game from their computers. By this time, however, public backlash and outrage towards the authorities’ attempts to control video games had become more commonplace.

According to Gamestop, this ban on Half-Life and its offshoots (such as Counter Strike) lasted for only a week before being overturned, reportedly “because the game had been released for more than a year” but likely due to local outrage: in the span of that week, Half-Life Asia’s petition to save the game accumulated thousands of signatures.

2007: Singapore's Censors say No to "Lesbian Intimacy"

Bans on video games continued into the late-2000s, with the state banning God of War 2 for nudity and The Darkness for its violence and offensive religious content.

However, the most well-known instance of video game censorship came in 2007, when Singapore's Media Development Authority banned Mass Effect. The deputy director of the Board of Film Censors released a statement explaining that the game had been banned because it featured a scene with “lesbian intimacy” between a human and alien woman.

Singapore instantly made international headlines for being the only country in the world to have banned Mass Effect. This ban was extremely short-lived, ending less than a week later, after intense local and international outrage.

While brief, the ban and surrounding controversy may have had a lasting impact. For the Mass Effect series of games, reports indicate that the massive controversy over Mass Effect’s same-sex love scene was a reason for why same-sex romances were cut from the second game of the trilogy.

This ban also had a longer-term impact on Singapore. Mass Effect was the last high-profile video game ban in Singapore in the 2000s, and the controversy over it would come to play an important role in the authorities’ decision to introduce a new and less controversial system for defining acceptable content in video games.

For more stories on Singapore's internet, press and government, subscribe to receive email updates with each new issue's release.

2008: “A global media city with forward-thinking systems that are beneficial to everyone”

After the backlash to its ban on Mass Effect, the Media Development Authority announced in 2008 that it would focus more on video game ratings and industry co-regulation. Such ratings would give regulators the ability to limit access to games based on age or call for alterations to games instead of banning them — though the MDA could still choose to refuse classification and ban a game.

Backlash to the ban on Mass Effect played a key role in this decision. According to a Today op-ed by Tech Editor Ariel Tam, although the MDA quickly overturned the ban,

“... the damage was done — Singapore was derided as a repressive nation with hair-trigger regulations and anachronistic sensibilities, and local gamers found it hard to hold their heads high within the global gaming league.”

Such a negative image also went against ongoing efforts to build up Singapore’s video game industry. Drawing multinational video game corporations to Singapore using tax breaks and other incentives was a key priority of Singapore’s Economic Development Board (EDB) during the late-2000s, as it sought to make Singapore a capital of digital media development. The most prominent examples of this include Ubisoft, Electronic Arts and LucasArts.

Singapore Samizdat understands that the EDB’s office displays a sculpture of an iconic location from Ubisoft’s blockbuster Assassin’s Creed series of games. Ubisoft opened its Singapore office in 2008, a development that was reportedly based on strong support from the Singapore government.

Thus, as another Today article puts it, the introduction of the video game rating system “puts Singapore one step closer to transforming itself into a global media city with forward-thinking systems that are beneficial to everyone.”

“Homosexual activity should be limited to kissing and hugging”

The most unenviable part of this new system had to be testing video games for the Infocomm Media Development Authority (which replaced the MDA in 2016) and writing up the elaborate explanations for how video games received their ratings:

The player may encounter an implied scene of fellatio between a male character and a non-human, talking towel character, but the act is obscured by a trash bin. The game also contains anime-style images of male characters in suggestive poses and acts of intimacy such as hugging and kissing.

These depictions can be allowed under the M18 guidelines, which permit “Portrayal of sexual activity with some nudity, both topless and frontal, if not detailed”, and state that “Homosexual activity should be limited to kissing and hugging.” (IMDA classification information for South Park: The Fractured But Whole)

While the rating system allows for the circulation in Singapore of games which might previously have been banned (previously banned games were now available under a M18 Rating), it has also drawn criticism.

Games that feature LGBT characters often receive higher ratings because of their LGBT content. An overview of the regulation of LGBT representation in the media by Heckin Unicorn notes that:

“Games that contain “homosexual themes” will be given an M18 rating if it’s discreet, or refused classification if not (page 4, para 15a; page 6, para 17dii). If the game features same-sex couples who hug or kiss, they automatically qualify for an M18 rating (page 5, para 15c).”

In effect, the rating system as it stands can limit the ability of LGBT youth to see representations of themselves in the games that they play. These representations can be an important avenue for LGBT youth to build self-esteem and mediate negative experiences relating to sexual orientation. A study on LGBT media representations argues that positive media representations are an important form of escapism and self-empowerment, and foster a sense of community among LGBT youth.

Is Singapore stepping away from video game ratings and controls?

Singapore was among the first countries in Asia (alongside Taiwan and South Korea) to introduce its own video game rating system and was the first in Southeast Asia to do so.

However, the actual strictness with which Singapore’s ratings and cuts are enforced today can be arbitrary, due to ambiguities in the classification system on when violence or LGBT content becomes so excessive as to require a higher age rating, cuts or to be refused classification entirely.

Games that prominently treat same-sex relationships on equal footing with opposite-sex ones, such as The Sims or Hades, received a Suitable for 16 and Above Rating. This could indicate that LGBT content might not factor into the rating if the straight tester never discovers it — or if the presence of such content is seen by the IMDA as uncontroversial to the public.

To take another example, South Park: The Stick of Truth was released in Singapore as a low-violence version with cuts. However, a game which was arguably as explicit (if not moreso), Cyberpunk 2077, was recently released without cuts or a detailed explanation behind its M18 rating. One can only imagine how the IMDA would even begin to describe the content it might deem questionable in a game that features customisable genitals.

With some recent games not even receiving a detailed explanation for their rating (past games received in-depth classification information), it is unclear what the future of these advisories and the rating system as a whole will be.

Video Game Censorship Today

While Singapore's early history of video game censorship was fuelled by the moral panic over the danger posed by video games, the censorship of popular games was often ineffective. Many bans were short-lived because of public backlash, and video gamers' persistent desire to play these games created workarounds like Singapore's early internet cafes.

Over time, as Singapore sought to position itself as a hub for digital media development in Asia, a draconian video game censorship regime did not only make for bad press — it was also bad for business. Being the country known for banning a game for "lesbian intimacy" did not mesh well with Singapore's ambitions for its growing video game industry.

As a sign of how video game censorship might have taken a more subtle turn in recent times, one need only look at the case of Witching Hour Studios' fantasy RPG Masquerada. In 2015, Gamasutra broke the story of how this Singapore-based studio risked government censorship to release their game.

According to Gamasutra, after the Studio revealed that one of the game’s main characters would be gay, civil servants in the Singaporean government approached the studio at industry events to suggest that the character be removed. This incident raises questions of whether informal and less visible channels are being used by the state when dealing with video game content it deems inappropriate.

After the introduction of the age-based rating system, outright bans on video games had become rare in Singapore. The most recent video game that was refused classification by the IMDA was a niche and sex-themed shoot-em-up game, Waifu Uncovered, for featuring excessive nudity.

Edit: Another recently banned game is Tell Me Why, which made waves for being the first major video game to feature a transgender protagonist. Users in Singapore attempting to purchase this game on the Steam store receive an error message. The IMDA has not released a statement explaining why the game has been barred from release in Singapore.

It is worth noting however, that such a ban is no longer as restrictive as it used to be. By 2021, how Singaporeans buy and consume their video games has changed significantly. Singapore's largest physical video game retailer closed in 2018. More recently, the pandemic has not only driven consumption online, it also likely contributed to the decline in LAN shops. Online, the impact of restrictions (like low-violence versions or region locking) are likely to be less impactful, simply because of the variety of workarounds available to users.

Perhaps this increasingly limited impact of video game restrictions is why many of the IMDA's rating explanations for games which might once have been refused classification are now simply left blank.

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In January 2021, a viral reddit post quickly became one of the most prominent accounts of trans discrimination in Singapore's recent memory — leading to a protest, parliamentary debate and newfound visibility on how the state treats transgender students.

This issue explores how the state and civil society responded to one student's testimony, and what it says about the shape of solidarity and LGBT activism in Singapore.

“[Rant] Transgender Discrimination in Singapore Schools and MOE's denial of mental health issues”

14 January: It began as a post on the subreddit /r/SGExams, a subreddit with over 76,000 members and a frequent haunt for students and young adults sharing their frustrations with student life. On this day, Ashlee shared a detailed account of her experience of discrimination from her school and the Ministry of Education. In her post, she shares how her school had barred her from attending classes, obstructed her access to hormone therapy, and imposed restrictive rules on her appearance.

As a trans student with gender dysphoria, she argued that these were issues which constitute discrimination and placed responsibility squarely on the school and the state — noting that her peers were supportive of her transition.

Disclaimer: As part of this issue of Samizdat, the writer contacted Ashlee for her input, but did not receive a response. This issue summarises and analyses events surrounding her story, but does not speak on her behalf.

Under Reddit’s democratic system of users determining what content becomes more visible based on their up- or downvotes, her post quickly shot to the frontpage of /r/SGExams and is currently the most upvoted post in the history of the subreddit.

Going Viral and the Government’s Response

15 January: Before her account ever received mainstream media coverage, her story spread like wildfire across a host of social media sites and alternative media outlets.

The first reports of this story by media outlets emerged on alternative platforms like The Online Citizen and Dear Straight People. Many netizens initially expressed disbelief towards Ashlee’s account, while others expressed their outrage and indignation at the way she was treated.

16 January: The following day, the Ministry of Education released a statement responding to Ashlee’s story. This blanket denial was short on details beyond dismissing Ashlee’s story while misgendering her.

(What is misgendering? Check out Heckin Unicorn's glossary of LGBT terms for a brief explanation of this and other related terms)

The statement also asked “students who experience unkind behaviour from peers to approach the teachers or school leaders as they are committed to keep students safe” — ignoring how Ashlee made clear that the issue was not one of bullying but institutional policy.

In the mainstream media, however, some of the first reports on Ashlee’s story lead with an identical angle:

The Straits Times and Today also shared Ashlee’s comments. Ashlee told ST:

"In August, I went to see my doctor again, as I had just turned 18. However, he told me that the MOE had called for a meeting with him, demanding that he stop writing memos to schools or referring people to hormone therapy without informing the MOE first…

… My doctor said he couldn't refer me and that he will work with the MOE. Since August, there has been no referral for hormone therapy”

#FixSchoolsNotStudents

Lune Loh, a Singaporean trans activist, recalled seeing Ashlee’s story on her Facebook feed. The story immediately stood out to her because of its resonance:

“[Ashlee] could well have been a fake person… but I realised that she could not have been fake because whatever she had shared is real. It’s everything generations of trans women and trans femme people in Singapore have faced.”

For Lune, it was the hair that got to her. When Ashlee shared her account of being restricted by her school on how she had to present herself or be barred access to education, Lune was reminded of her own negotiations with teachers over how she should present herself.

“Everything just came together. There’s a lot of history of disciplinary action and trauma. After MOE sent the first response, of course we’re angry...” Lune explained. “We have seen this happen before and nothing has changed.”

At first, Lune and her fellow activists did what many Singaporeans do when confronted with injustice: write to their Members of Parliament and use official channels to raise their concerns.

21 January: After calls for clarity from netizens, civil society organisations and journalists, a joint statement was released by the Ministry of Education and Institute of Mental Health.

This joint statement claims that medical decisions lie with clinicians, patients and parents, and not MOE. The statement also notes that home-based learning has been offered to Ashlee, but failed to elaborate on why a student might be forced out of the classroom as Ashlee had alleged. One commentator described it as “a non-statement”.

When official channels failed to elicit the desired response, Lune and her friends realised that they needed to protest against the unjust policies that are hurting transgender youth in Singapore’s education system.

On 26 January, Lune and fellow activists stood before the Ministry of Education holding placards that read trans rights slogans in a peaceful protest. In minutes, the police had arrived to ask them to disperse. Three, including Lune, were arrested under the Public Order Act.

It is worth stressing the rarity of protests in Singapore and the severity of restrictions against them. In Singapore, protesters have been arrested for holding small and peaceful assemblies (sometimes of single persons). This makes the trans rights protesters’ decision to demonstrate at the Ministry of Education all the more striking.

At the time of writing, the outcome of the cases against the protesters is unknown.

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The Shape of Solidarity in Singapore

Earlier, when Ashlee’s story became public, over 50 LGBT organisations released a collective statement of solidarity, calling on the Ministry of Education and the Institute of Mental Health to act on its commitment to keep students safe.

After the protest, backlash against the government response emerged from many corners, including a smaller coalition of local NGOs, international human rights organisations such as Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International, Southeast Asian civil society organisations and more.

Ashlee is Not Alone

The statement from local LGBT groups called attention to the wider trend of discrimination against trans students in Singapore:

“We believe today’s events reflect the frustrations of youths who are continually silenced and rendered invisible by the system… Beyond Ashlee, the discrimination against transgender students in schools is well-documented.”

They also called attention to a report on transgender issues that was submitted as part of Singapore’s Universal Periodic Review (a review of a country’s human rights record by the United Nations).

This report, released in October 2020 (well before Ashlee’s story was shared), notes that:

“a particular area of concern is the impact of “unwritten policies” on transgender youths that compromise their privacy, health, safety and access to education"

Local activist Carissa Cheow shared: “What this case really exposes is that we need to build systems that work for us, and not dismiss people when they tell you that systems are not working for them. If they tell you that, it means they have experienced it firsthand.”

We, the undersigned, are teachers, counsellors, social workers, and community & youth workers…

The most grassroots and individual-driven expression of solidarity towards Ashlee and the protesters came from a diverse group of teachers, counsellors, tutors, social workers, psychologists, professors and many others.

Together, they released an open letter that quickly acquired more than 600 signatories (from 300, according to initial media reports) and called for the Ministry of Education “to implement and communicate a clear policy on supporting transgender students at schools, in line with advice from healthcare professionals, and in consultation with the respective students and their families.”

While around 160 signatories signed under their full names, the vast majority did not — instead signing the open letter with pseudonyms or only part of their full name. The group wrote:

"Many of us were afraid to write this statement or put our names to it because we recognise that it is still not safe for us as individuals and professionals to publicly express these views."

The speed at which their open letter gained traction, coupled with the fear which underlies such activism, highlights a crucial dynamic in Singapore: While many care about political rights and equality, and are often willing to show support for such causes, the fear of potential consequences (especially when one works in the public sector) can drive much of this support underground.

The Impact of LGBT Activism

Ashlee’s story is not the first time that a trans person has come forward with their experience of discrimination in Singapore, but hers is arguably the most prominent account in recent memory.

In Singapore, the invisibility of transgender people and their issues has long been highlighted by local activists. NGOs have criticised the state for paying lip service to trans inclusion while failing to protect trans persons with their policies. Key challenges related to this include lacking workplace protections, lacking legal recognition of gender identity, unequal access to healthcare and education, and vulnerability to violence.

Existing research shows that the vast majority of people claim not to know a trans person — and that many of their opinions on trans issues can be shaped by media portrayals.

It is for these reasons that stories like Ashlee’s are crucial in raising public awareness of discrimination against trans people in Singapore and policy failures that demand action. Ashlee’s account and the ensuing activism from civil society pushed discussions on trans issues into the mainstream:

“Culture Wars” and Singapore’s Conservative Asian Values

1 February: In response to parliamentary questions on the Ministry of Education’s policies on trans students, Minister Lawrence Wong argued that schools have the flexibility to determine their own policies on trans students and that:

“Issues of gender identity have become bitterly contested sources of division in the culture wars in some Western countries and societies. We should not import these culture wars into Singapore, or allow issues of gender identity to divide our society.”

Lawrence Wong’s argument evokes a frequently used defence in Singapore against criticisms of the state’s human rights record. In painting progressive movements as foreign in nature, and opposed to Singapore’s socially conservative Asian values, the state reduces crucial debates into simplistic “us vs them” narratives.

Public Awareness is Not Enough

Activist Carissa Cheow believes that Singaporeans seeking change should go beyond merely raising awareness: “Awareness is not enough — this is not just an issue of prejudice and bias and stigma and individual mindsets, this is also about institutions and reform.”

In Singapore, a frequent response to calls for more equitable policy towards LGBT people is to point to Singapore’s social conservatism — and ask those seeking progress to wait for societal attitudes to change. However, such calls must be taken with a grain of salt, as the available research on public attitudes towards LGBT issues paints a more complex picture:

Public opinion surveys on LGBT issues in Singapore have many flaws. Transgender issues are often excluded, leaving the actual public opinion on trans equality ambiguous. Moreover, biased framing (how wrong is homosexuality?) can skew results to the negative by problematising LGBT people and associating them with social ills.

Despite these flaws, IPS surveys do indicate a slow shift towards acceptance. Meanwhile, other surveys point towards broader support towards Pink Dot and alleviating LGBT inequality, as well as the existence of a significant middle ground on more contentious issues (such as same-sex civil partnership).

A look at the social media reaction to the protest also shows the diversity of opinion which exists on political action for trans rights — which cannot be reduced to broad social conservatism:

Thus, Singapore’s supposedly conservative Asian values are not as rooted in empirical evidence as many might claim. Perhaps the best example of this is that the Singapore public believes that abortion, casual sex and parents beating children are even less justifiable than homosexuality. (Again, this IPS survey problematises homosexuality in how it frames its question.)

Ultimately, by placing the burden of change on a faceless and ambiguously defined public, the state evades more difficult questions of how government policies that hurt LGBT people should be changed.

Carissa argues that when we focus on raising public awareness as the end goal of activism, we can fall into the trap of overlooking systemic issues:

“You can have everyone in that space be extremely supportive and have no stigma, but if the system is designed to harm people — then it will still harm people regardless of how good the people in the room are... You achieve the change you want to see by replacing these systems with systems that account for the lived reality of people.”

Indeed, Ashlee's initial post pointed out institutional problems that exist despite acceptance from peers and some staff members. Her update (in response to government statements) highlighted how the "flexibility" the Minister favours could allow policies which limit the ability of trans students to access education. She also refuted the minister’s culture war rhetoric by highlighting that she “did not personally affect anyone’s personal life” — and pointing out that her school would have done better by not obstructing her treatment and education.

As of the time of writing, it remains unclear whether Ashlee’s issues with her school (the Millennia Institute) have been resolved.

Why Online Grievances Matter

In Singapore, sharing grievances with the government online can play an important role in demanding change. A unique aspect of social media activism is hearing someone’s testimony in their own words. Such stories are harder to erase or demonise because they come from such an intimate and first-person perspective.

While the virality of Ashlee’s story was fuelled by social media, attributing the importance her story attained purely to social media would be an oversimplification. Grievances are frequently shared online — on such a frequent basis that one of Singapore’s most popular Facebook groups is Complaint Singapore — and not all of them gain traction.

The impact of these grievances also cannot be reduced to the severity of its claims: Nanyang Scandal was a website created by Mohamed Helmy, alleging harassment, animal cruelty and academic misconduct by Singapore’s Dementia Consortium. This grievance elicited only a blanket denial from the universities involved with few details, before disappearing from public consciousness.

Kirsten Han’s in-depth article on a mother’s fears about her son’s treatment in a Singapore prison elicited no official response despite the severity of the alleged abuse. When Workers’ Party MP Leon Perera asked questions in parliament in the same vein as the questions raised by Han, he received a short written reply reiterating that processes are in place to prevent abuse.

How and where the story is told matters

As with the online criticism of the mismanagement of quarantine processes, providing details can matter as many netizens react to online grievances with doubt, well before the government steps in. For Jade Rasif, keeping these receipts provoked a rare apology from a government agency.

While Rasif has an enormous platform as an established influencer, private citizens who shared their stories of how the Ministry of Health was insensitive to issues faced by disabled persons had to rely on alternative press outlets like Wake Up Singapore and the digital masses to bring their claims into the public eye and mainstream media reporting. For Ashlee, /r/SGExams’ community of students and young adults familiar with educational injustices likely contributed to the story’s intensely viral reception.

Resonance is also likely to be a contributing factor, as can be seen in the case of the many netizens who shared their concerns about political candidate Ivan Lim, resulting in his withdrawal from the election. It is telling that among the most frequently shared stories of Ivan Lim’s alleged character flaws are of his behaviour as a commanding officer during national service and his actions in the workplace — elements which are likely to resonate strongly with many in Singapore.

Not all who suffer are heard. In Singapore, the most important actors against abuse from public institutions often lie outside of government and mainstream media — and the most important role might belong to the digital masses who demand answers and take action when they see injustice.

For more stories on Singapore's internet, press and government, subscribe to Singapore Samizdat.

Interested in reading more about how government policies affect Singapore's transgender youth?

• How Schools in Singapore Suppress LGBTQ+ Identities (by Heckin Unicorn)

• Living with gender dysphoria: Transgender youths face stigma and inadequate institutional support (by Today)

• Universal Periodic Review: A Joint Report on Transgender Issues (by TransgenderSG, Sayoni and the Asia Pacific Transgender Network)
  
  
  
  

This primer provides an overview of some of the world’s most influential human rights treaties and Singapore’s place in them:

Part One: Singapore's Notable Abstentions

1. Universal Human Rights

Human rights are the fundamental rights to which all are entitled, by virtue of being human. What these rights are exactly is complex and highly contested, with many states disagreeing on what constitutes important and fundamental rights that all humans should have.

Human rights treaties are one way in which human rights are defined. They codify these rights, and set the principles and standards of behaviour by which states should abide. The foundational texts in international human rights are the three which form the International Bill of Human Rights.

The International Bill of Human Rights is composed of three documents:

• The non-binding but influential Universal Declaration of Human Rights

• The International Covenant of Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR)

• The International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (ICESCR)

Together, the norms they codify constitute a global value system that protects rights such as:

• One's inherent right to life

• Right to justice and a fair trial

• Freedom of expression

• Freedom of religion

• Right to health

• Right to work and the right to strike

Singapore currently holds the dubious honour of being one of 13 UN states which have not signed or ratified either the ICCPR or the ICESCR, alongside Bhutan, Brunei, Kiribati, Malaysia, Micronesia, Oman, Saint Kitts & Nevis, Saudi Arabia, South Sudan, Tonga, Tuvalu, and the United Arab Emirates.

Treaty Explainer: How does ratification work? States become party to a treaty and agree to its principles and obligations through a process known as ratification. This process involves seeking domestic approval for the treaty, and the introduction or amendment of legislation to meet treaty requirements. Many treaties also involve a review process after ratification, with states sharing their progress towards meeting their treaty obligations, while UN Committees provide recommendations for improvement.

In contrast, Singapore has signed the non-binding ASEAN Human Rights Declaration (AHRD), as one of the ten countries that drafted and adopted it in 2012. The AHRD was denounced by Human Rights Watch and other civil society organisations for excluding many fundamental freedoms and for being “a declaration of government powers disguised as a declaration of human rights”.

Indeed, others argue that it even waters down further the inalienable nature of human rights by making it conditional upon one performing their duties to society. This is just one among several ‘claw back’ provisions against the International Bill of Human Rights to emphasise the importance of national law over human rights in Southeast Asia.

2. Refugees and Stateless Persons

Singapore has not ratified any of the four main international treaties on the rights of refugees and stateless persons. These treaties aim to establish minimum standards and obligations towards refugees and stateless persons, such as the right to housing or the right to access courts.

A core principle of the 1951 Refugee Convention is non-refoulement, the idea that refugees should not be returned to a territory where they are at risk of harm. Non-refoulement is an essential protection and is considered a form of international customary law that is binding regardless of a state’s ratification of the 1951 Refugee Convention.

Singapore has faced criticism for its unwelcome stance towards refugees and its limited engagement with the global refugee crisis. In response, the following have been cited as reasons for Singapore's current stance: the influx of refugees during the Indochina Refugee Crisis (1975-96) and Singapore’s size and land-scarcity relative to other states.

During the Indochina Refugee Crisis, Singapore hosted 32,457 Vietnamese boat people. Refugees were allowed in on the condition that other countries would guarantee their removal within 3 months, and the majority of these refugees (32,364) were resettled in third countries. Many of these refugees were housed in a Sembawang refugee camp, which did not house any more than 150 refugees at any point in time.

The UNHCR’s data on refugees indicates that Singapore was host to 900 refugees in 1979 at the peak of the Indochina Refugee Crisis.

More recently, Singapore demonstrated its closed-door policy by denying entry to 40 shipwreck survivors from Myanmar in 2012. As of 2020, the UNHCR records 0 refugees in Singapore and 1303 stateless persons.

3. Migrant Workers’ Rights

Singapore shares its non-ratification of the International Convention on the Protection of the Rights of All Migrant Workers and the Members of their Families (MWC) with many major host countries to migrant workers, with none of the world's High-Income Economies (according to the World Bank) having ratified the MWC.

In Singapore, migrant workers lack many protections compared to citizens. For example, Singapore’s main labour law (the Employment Act) does not apply to migrant domestic workers — excluding them from many protections offered under this law. While domestic workers’ rights in Singapore are protected under the less comprehensive Employment of Foreign Manpower Act, many of its terms remain ambiguous — leaving many workers in positions of precarity.

However, restrictions on migrant domestic workers are less ambiguous. They cannot marry citizens or permanent residents without the Ministry of Manpower’s permission. They must also attend compulsory medical examinations for pregnancy or face deportation.

A recent investigation by Channel News Asia into high-profile cases of abuse, torture and death of foreign domestic workers in Singapore points to a lack of consequences for such abuse and abusers’ “misplaced sense of superiority over their victims that leads them to view their targets as less human”.

Treaty Explainer: Do human rights treaties work? Academic research on the influence of international human rights law paints a complex picture of their effectiveness. The ratification of human rights treaties does open up avenues for change, for civil society to hold governments accountable when they fail to meet their obligations — and for governments to measure their progress towards crucial goals such as children's rights, gender equality and racial equality. However, these benefits can be limited when civil society faces restrictions or when states ratify treaties purely for their symbolic value. An interesting trend to note is that repressive states tend to ratify human rights treaties at similar frequencies as less repressive states, suggesting that ratification can be used as a symbolic commitment or is being done without the intention to comply with these treaties. While signing key human rights treaties can be an important step in advancing our fundamental rights, ratification alone is not the answer.

4. Protection from Torture, Degrading Treatment and Disappearance

Singapore has not ratified the Convention against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment (CAT) or the International Convention for the Protection of All Persons from Enforced Disappearance (ICPPED).

The CAT declares that there can be no circumstance which justifies torture and other cruel and inhuman treatment — including public emergencies and orders from an authority — and requires states who ratify it to introduce measures against these acts.

The ICPPED prohibits enforced disappearance, which it defines as the secret abduction and imprisonment of an individual. Enforced disappearance has been used by states to spread terror and target human rights defenders. The fate of victims of enforced disappearance is often unknown, becoming a source of agony and lingering fear for their loved ones.

Singapore’s security laws allow for detention without trial in the name of national security. Historically, these laws have been used in Operations Coldstore and Spectrum. Former Internal Security Act (ISA) detainees have argued that the ISA is draconian and should be abolished.

In 2001, then-Deputy Prime Minister Tharman Shanmugaratnam famously commented on Operation Spectrum:

“although I had no access to state intelligence, from what I knew of them, most were social activists but were not out to subvert the system”

Criticism has also been raised towards Singapore’s use of corporal punishment, the death penalty and approach to criminal justice. Civil society groups such as the Transformative Justice Collective highlight how Singapore’s harsh approach to criminal justice undermines its rehabilitative effect on prisoners.

Notably, Singapore also denounced (terminated its obligations for) the International Labour Organisation's (ILO) Abolition of Forced Labour Convention. Singapore, along with Malaysia, is one of two countries that are part of the ILO which have denounced this Convention after ratifying it. Singapore's termination stemmed from a disagreement “with the interpretation of the term ‘forced labour’ as applicable to prisoners under certain domestic legislation”.

5. Crimes Against Humanity and International Criminal Law

Singapore did not ratify the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, the body which oversees the gravest of international crimes — such as genocide, crimes against humanity and war crimes. It is important to note that the Rome Statute is not only a tool by which states can be investigated by the International Criminal Court (ICC) for these crimes. It is also a tool by which others can seek the ICC’s intervention.

Although Myanmar and Israel have not ratified the Rome Statute, Bangladesh and Palestine have successfully sought the ICC to investigate potential crimes linked to the former states. Most recently, the ICC has been the subject of much media attention due to its opening of an investigation into potential war crimes committed by US soldiers in Afghanistan.

Despite not being a party to the Rome Statute, Singapore did contribute to it the “Singapore compromise”: instead of requiring the UN’s Security Council members (of which the US, UK, China, France and Russia are permanent members) to unanimously approve investigations, these members could instead choose to defer investigations for a period of time if they agreed unanimously.

The absence of this compromise is likely to have further politicised the court's decisions, with its ability to initiate investigations so dependent on the UN Security Council. This key contribution underlies the important role which small states can have in international politics.

Supporters of the ICC have argued that the court represents an important avenue for prosecuting the gravest crimes and gets us closer to a world where none can act with impunity. However, criticisms of the ICC include its over-emphasis on the African continent and its potential challenge to state power, the latter of which is frequently criticised by states such as the US, Israel and Myanmar (all of whom have not ratified the Rome Statute).

For more stories on Singapore's internet, press and government, subscribe to receive email updates with each new issue's release.

Part Two: Singapore's 'Pragmatic' Approach to Human Rights

Singapore’s “pragmatic and outcomes-based approach to human rights” is a recurring feature in the Singapore government’s rhetoric on human rights. But how does this pragmatism take shape?

6. Women’s Rights

While Singapore has ratified the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW), its ratification contained some reservations.

Treaty Explainer: What is a Reservation? Being party to a treaty does not necessarily mean compliance with its intended principles. Before ratifying a treaty, states can include reservations by indicating obligations in a treaty they wish to modify or exclude.

Although Singapore reduced the number of these reservations in 2011, the UN Committee which oversees the Convention has stated that these reservations are still “impermissible since these articles are fundamental to the implementation of all the other provisions of the Convention”.

The reason for this is that many of Singapore's reservations apply to Article 2 of CEDAW, which commits states to:

… adopt appropriate legislative and other measures, including sanctions where appropriate, prohibiting all discrimination against women.

… refrain from engaging in any act or practice of discrimination against women and to ensure that public authorities and institutions shall act in conformity with this obligation.

Crucially, Article 2 of CEDAW is the section that commits states to take steps to eliminating all discrimination against women through anti-discrimination laws, public institutions and tribunals; and repealing all discriminatory provisions of domestic legislation. Despite having ratified the convention to eliminate discrimination against women, Singapore reserves the right to not apply key parts of it which forbid this discrimination.

7. Children’s Rights

While Singapore has ratified the Convention of the Rights of the Child (CRC) and its first Optional Protocol on the involvement of children in armed conflict, the second Optional Protocol to the CRC on the sale of children, child prostitution and child pornography has not been ratified.

Again, Singapore’s ratification of this Convention includes several reservations. One of these argues that Singapore’s national law sufficiently protects children’s rights, and thus means that Singapore will not accept any obligations beyond those prescribed in the Constitution — essentially arguing that Singapore’s participation in the treaty was to indicate that its laws already meet the standards of the CRC. This has been criticised by other states and the UN Committee which oversees the CRC.

Further, civil society organisations such as AWARE have called attention to how discriminatory policies and inequality undermine Singapore’s obligation to children’s rights.

8. Disability Rights

A consistent criticism which emerges from UN Committees overseeing the treaties which Singapore has ratified is that Singapore often meets its treaty obligations with policy instead of legal obligation.

Treaty Explainer: What is the difference between legal obligation and policy? Legal obligations often take the form of new or amended laws, which can only be changed again by another act of parliament. Such laws enshrine specific protections — such as further legal protections against discrimination or the creation of an independent human rights institution. Meanwhile, policy is how governments plan to respond to certain issues, but can be changed or dropped without the approval of parliament. Campaigns like the Enabling Masterplan to improve nationwide accessibility to persons with disabilities count as one example.

As a result, while many groups do see material improvements to their lives in Singapore, these improvements are often discretionary in nature, and can come without comprehensive protections.

The Disabled People’s Association (DPA) paper on Singapore and the CRPD notes that there are many policies and initiatives which aim to improve accessibility for disabled people. However, the DPA notes that it is unclear how the Singapore Constitution's Article 12 (all are equal before the law, and entitled to equal protection) translates to protecting the rights of disabled people in practice. For example, policies aiming to improve accessibility for disabled people (such as policies permitting guide dogs in food establishments) lack punitive measures to ensure compliance.

The DPA also notes that “instead of having legislation to protect employees from discrimination based on disability, Singapore has adopted a promotional and education approach.” Indeed, there remain many ambiguities surrounding the rights of an individual to claim wrongful dismissal against their employer on the basis of their disability.

9. Racial Equality

Singapore has ratified the International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination (ICERD) in 2017, and submitted its first report to the UN Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination in 2018.

One of Singapore’s notable reservations is that:

“Singapore reserves the right to apply its policies concerning the admission and regulation of foreign work pass holders, with a view to promoting integration and maintaining cohesion within its racially diverse society."

In practice, this can be seen in how eligibility for specific forms of immigration to Singapore can depend on one’s nationality. Some scholars have also argued that Singapore “appears to be using ethnically selective immigration policy” to entrench the existing racial balance in Singapore.

Singapore's Caveats to Human Rights

It is important to note that this is not a comprehensive list of human rights or the treaties which codify them. Key rights such as labour rights, health rights, education rights and many more were not included. Further, many groups (such as LGBTQ+ people) are still fighting for recognition, with rights that often remain uncodified in both domestic and international law.

Singapore’s Constitution enshrines personal liberty, equal protection before the law, and freedom of speech and assembly. However, the extent to which these constitutional rights translate to practice is a complicated process that often diverges from international human rights norms.

Overall, Singapore’s approach to the treaties listed above paints a picture of slow progress and limited engagement with international instruments on human rights — with many caveats and exclusions to that which should be fundamental and inalienable.

If you found this story insightful, do subscribe for more content like this! If you have any comments, enquiries or corrections, please send them to teokaixiang@protonmail.com.

Sources

Treaties and Singapore Ratification Status

International Labour Organisation (2021). Ratification by Conventions. https://www.ilo.org/dyn/normlex/en/f?p=NORMLEXPUB:12001:0::NO::: (Accessed 5 April 2021).

Refworld (2021). Browse by Publisher. https://www.refworld.org/cgi-bin/texis/vtx/rwmain?page=publisher&skip=0 (Accessed 5 April 2021).

Refworld was used to access reports on Singapore by the respective UN Committees in charge of overseeing each treaty, such as Concluding Observations.

United Nations Treaty Collection (2021). Multilateral Treaties Deposited with the Secretary-General. https://treaties.un.org/Pages/ParticipationStatus.aspx (Accessed 5 April 2021).

This was the primary source of information regarding Singapore’s involvement in a treaty (ratification, accession and reservations), as well as the number of states party to each treaty.

Journalistic and Civil Society Reports on Human Rights in Singapore

AWARE (2017). CEDAW Shadow Reports. https://www.aware.org.sg/reports/cedaw-shadow-reports/  

Disabled People’s Association, Singapore (2015). Singapore and the UN CRPD. https://www.dpa.org.sg/wp-content/uploads/2015/06/Singapore-and-UN-CRPD.pdf

Function 8 (2015). History of the ISA. https://fn8org.wordpress.com/silenced-history/history-of-isa/

Jones, E. (2018). ‘Refugees not welcome here’: As ASEAN chair, Singapore must take the lead. https://hongkongfp.com/2018/01/07/refugees-not-welcome-asean-chair-singapore-must-take-lead/  

Transformative Justice Collective (2021). Resources. https://transformativejusticecollective.org/category/resources/

Academic Literature on Human Rights Treaties

Chesterman, S., Owada, H., & Saul, B. (Eds.). (2019). The Oxford Handbook of International Law in Asia and the Pacific. Oxford University Press. https://doi.org/10.1093/law/9780198793854.001.0001

Doyle, N. (2014). The ASEAN Human Rights Declaration and the Implications of Recent Southeast Asian Initiatives in Human Rights Institution-Building and Standard-Setting. International and Comparative Law Quarterly, 63(1), 67-101. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0020589313000390

Hafner-Burton, E. M., Tsutsui, K., & Meyer, J. W. (2008). International Human Rights Law and the Politics of Legitimation: Repressive States and Human Rights Treaties. International Sociology, 23(1), 115–141. https://doi.org/10.1177/0268580907084388

Loja, M. Recent engagement with international human rights norms by the courts of Singapore, Malaysia, and Philippines. International Journal of Constitutional Law, 2021;, moab006, https://doi.org/10.1093/icon/moab006

Neo, J. L. (2015). Riots and Rights: Law and Exclusion in Singapore’s Migrant Worker Regime. Asian Journal of Law and Society, 2(1), 137–168. https://doi.org/10.1017/als.2015.1

Neumayer, E. (2005). Do International Human Rights Treaties Improve Respect for Human Rights? Journal of Conflict Resolution, 49(6), 925–953. https://doi.org/10.1177/0022002705281667

Yeoh, B. S. A., Goh, C., & Wee, K. (2020). Social Protection for Migrant Domestic Workers in Singapore: International Conventions, the Law, and Civil Society Action. American Behavioral Scientist, 64(6), 841–858. https://doi.org/10.1177/0002764220910208

In this issue:

• How elite are the elite institutions of Singapore?

• Which three junior colleges produced the majority of Singapore's ministers?

• What is the most commonly studied degree subject among ministers — and what is the most uncommon?

• How prevalent is an overseas education among ministers? And how many went to Oxbridge?

The Elite Institutions of Singapore

While Independent and Special Assistance Programme (SAP) schools form a small minority of the secondary schools which exist in Singapore, a majority of ministers (23 out of 34) were educated in SAP or Independent schools.

SAP schools have a distinct focus on bilingual education in English and Mandarin Chinese. As recently as 2019, the importance of SAP schools was again emphasised by then-Minister of Education Ong Ye Kung, who pointed to the growing importance of China and the Chinese language. However, criticism has been levelled at the programme for being ethnically-exclusive and elitist in nature, considering Singapore's large non-Chinese minority.

Independent schools "have the flexibility to set their own fees and develop their academic and non-academic programmes". For Singapore Citizens, the school fees amount to $300-$600/month, while the monthly school fee for government (including autonomous) schools amounts to $25-$43/month (with an additional fee for autonomous schools).

Based on 2020 Primary School Leaving Exams (PSLE) admission cut-off points, 6 out of 11 SAP schools were in the 20 options with the highest cut-off points. Meanwhile, all 8 independent schools were among the 20 options with the highest cut-off points.

These elite institutions are not only more exclusive, they are also concentrated geographically: all Independent schools and all but two SAP schools (Nan Hua and Nan Chiau) are located in Central and South Singapore. A similar pattern can be seen in the schools attended by ministers.

Why does location matter? A study of 40 years of junior college yearbooks from 6 junior colleges indicated that a neighbourhood’s characteristics could potentially explain why some groups are under-represented in Singapore’s top junior colleges:

"We found that ethnicity and gender matter in different ways. For female students, attending an elite junior college in a wealthy neighborhood is associated with wealthy neighborhoods having a disproportionate number of elite girls’ secondary schools that feed enrollment into the junior colleges. By contrast, for Malays, not attending an elite junior college in a wealthy neighborhood has more to do with Malays being underrepresented in wealthy neighborhoods." (Chua, Swee & Wellman, 2019)

Most Ministers attend one of three Junior Colleges

The majority of ministers (24 out of 34) studied at one of three tertiary institutions: Raffles Institution, National Junior College or Hwa Chong Institution. Despite attempts to shed the image of being an 'elite school', Singapore's oldest school (Raffles) remains the school of choice among Singapore's leaders.

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Singapore's Fixation with Oxbridge

Ministers’ most commonly attended universities are the National University of Singapore, Harvard University and the University of Cambridge.

In line with Singapore's national fixation with Oxbridge and the Ivy League, 13 out of 34 ministers have studied at these universities. However, this number falls to 8 when we exclude postgraduate studies at the Harvard Kennedy School — which has drawn some controversy over its admission requirements and graduates.

This figure (about 38% of Singapore ministers have studied at Oxbridge or the Ivy League) is not far from that of British politicians: In 2019, 57% of the British Cabinet and 36% of Junior Ministers studied at Oxford or Cambridge. What is striking however is our attainment of a similar figure despite being a continent away from the US and the UK.

Running Singapore like a Business

The three most common degree subjects are economics, business and public policy / administration. All public policy / administration degrees were conferred by the Harvard Kennedy School.

Notably, no minister has a university-level degree focusing on the humanities. The closest is Senior Minister of State Sim Ann’s Bachelor’s Degree in Philosophy, Politics and Economics.

To be clear, the marginalisation of the humanities is not unique to Singapore, with the humanities suffering from shrinking sources of funding and decreased attendance worldwide. In the US, the percentage of all new graduates with a bachelor’s degree in the humanities was 11.9% in 2015, the lowest percentage ever recorded.

In Singapore, 17.9% of new graduates who completed their bachelor’s degree in 2020 did so in the humanities or social sciences (as data specific to the humanities is not available, the actual percentage of students who graduated with a degree in the humanities is likely to be much lower).

Every ministry has at least one minister with a background in economics or business studies. Even the Ministry of Culture, Community and Youth is led by three ministers who studied law, business studies, economics, and public policy. Here, our emphasis on economic expertise over other forms of expertise becomes more readily apparent.

Singapore and the West

27 out of 34 ministers completed at least part of their university studies abroad.

Ministers studied in a total of five host countries: Singapore (18), United States (18), United Kingdom (18), Australia (3) and Switzerland (1). 7 out of the 18 who studied in Singapore spent the entirety of their time in university there. Note that this figure does not include exchange semesters.

Despite the rise of China and the growing importance of alternatives to a US-led world order, the educational background of Singapore’s ministers — on the surface level, at least — points strongly to alignment with the anglophone West.

A Master's-Level Degree as the Standard

Between them, Singapore’s ministers have an average of 2.2 degrees each. While 3 out of 34 hold a doctorate-level degree, only 4 out of 34 did not possess a master’s-level degree. At least 15 ministers received scholarships for their university studies.

Click on this link or the image above to see a full visual representation of where ministers studied.

How does this compare to the general population? According to the World Bank, as of 2018, 31.5% of Singapore’s population aged 25+ have attained at least a Bachelor’s degree, whereas 100% of ministers have. Specific data regarding the percentage of the general population with a master's degree is not available. Past statements by ministers indicate that aim is to have 30 to 40 percent of a cohort of students graduate with a university degree.

What makes a typical minister?

A typical minister is one who has:

• Studied at an Independent or SAP secondary school

• Progressed to Raffles, National JC or Hwa Chong for their tertiary studies

• Studied economics or business as an undergraduate

• Gained a postgraduate degree, most commonly at the Harvard Kennedy School

Incidentally, the above also describes Deputy Prime Minister Heng Swee Keat’s educational background to a tee. Perhaps it is fitting then that Heng was the favoured candidate for the role of future Prime Minister by the PAP rank and file.

It is important to note that educational background is only one part of what constitutes a member of Singapore's political elite. At the very least, however, these points provide an indication of what is valued at the highest level of government — and what meritocracy means in Singapore.

Corrections: Minister Lawrence Wong's postgraduate institution was incorrectly indicated as University of Wisconsin-Madison instead of University of Michigan-Ann Arbor. Minister Sun Xueling's tertiary education, which was previously indicated as unknown, is now indicated as Raffles Institution.

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A Note on this Story's Data

Source: All data on Ministers' educational backgrounds was gathered from parliament profiles, government websites and media reports.

Download the data: A full spreadsheet of each minister, their educational background and the sources used to verify this data can be found here.

My data has some missing information: Alvin Tan and Tan Kiat How’s secondary-level institutions are not included; as this information could not be independently verified. Janil Puthucheary’s secondary and tertiary-level institutions, both outside of Singapore, were also excluded.

A reason for this missing data is the change to how members of parliament’s data is presented to the public on government websites. Prior to 2015, parliament.gov.sg presented detailed information about a minister’s CV (most of which is still available via the Internet Archive). This information is no longer available post-2015 and as a result, information on the qualifications of members of parliament has become more difficult for the public to access:

Barring changes to the way MPs’ backgrounds are presented to the public, comprehensive analyses of our current elected representatives by their professional backgrounds, educational backgrounds, scholarships received and other such biodata would be unfeasible or very time-intensive.