Money
culture
Spreading to the young
Affluence has its side-effects as Singaporeans discover.
By Seah Chiang Nee.
Jun 27, 2005
A PRE-TEEN
pupil offered $1 to his classmate to do his homework. Another
gave his friend 10 cents as a tip to buy canteen food for
him.
These
Generation Y tales told to me by a mother over lunch recently
touch on one of Singapore's maladies after years of affluence.
This
wealth has given Singaporeans a good life but has also moulded
a lopsided view that money is a quick fix for all problems.
But
these schoolboy horror stories have been around for decades.
In the
early years, even when Singapore was less wealthy, some
students in elite schools were known to flash Rolex watches,
Gucci bags and other branded goods.
Dr Tony
Tan, the current deputy prime minister, once spoke of a
spoiled brat who burned a $5 bill to show off how "successful"
his parents were, and his friend promptly replied by torching
a $50 note.
Since
then, of course, the school involved had banned students
from bringing or wearing to school any branded watch, pen,
shoes, or more than $50 in cash.
Some
time ago, a friend told me his son had come home one day
complaining about his pitiful pocket money after being shown
a classmate's birthday present from his father.
It was
a $200,000 deposit in the 12-year-old's Post Office Saving
Bank (since taken over by DBS Bank) account.
The
stereotype of youth is someone who knows the price of everything
but the value of none. It is, of course, exaggerated and
hardly fair since he lives in his parents' mould.
The
rapid transformation from Third to First World has created
an attitude towards money more profound than in many other
comparable cities.
"If
you have a problem, just throw money at it and it will go
away" seems to be a viewpoint that has been passed
on to the young generation.
To an
extent, it has distorted society. People often see money
as a quick fix for all problems.
Take
the case of nine-year-old Jeremy Tio, who was lost for three
nights recently in Fraser's Hill with his three Malaysian
cousins.
When
he was found, he emotionally hugged his rescuer and said,
"I love you."
But
he revealed his Singaporean upbringing when he told his
Malaysian rescuers, "If I give you money, can you take
me home?"
His
gracious rescuer Rapi Bata replied: "No need to pay
us. We are here to help you."
This
episode raised concern at the direction in which Singaporeans
are being raised. Very few people blame Jeremy for the remarks
because of his age and the severe fatigue he was under.
But
spoken so matter-of-factly by one so young, it has placed
the whole society, the education system and his parents
under the critical spotlight.
One
Internet writer said, "It belies a very serious problem
with our society at large. From such a young age, little
Jeremy knows the power of money."
Another
cynical response: "Can't blame little Jeremy. He is
only money-minded, that's all. This is a true blue Singaporean.
Money talks every time. I think Jeremy will be an exemplary
Singaporean when he grows up. He appreciates the value of
money."
Others
were less judgmental, pointing out his tender age. One defended
him, "When you're cold, hungry, desperate, afraid ...
would you will still be thinking straight?"
But
the general view is: "He thinks money can solve everything
or it can make people work!"
It flows
down from the highest level of leadership, which has long
used money as a weapon to fight corruption. Singapore's
Cabinet ministers (and senior civil servants) are among
the world's most highly paid.
Minister
Mentor Lee Kuan Yew often says that giving high salaries
to government ministers and officials is the best way to
keep graft at bay.
Even
a junior minister in Singapore earns more than $1mil a year,
with the Prime Minister and other senior leaders making
at least twice the amount. By comparison, the US President
earns US$400,000 or about S$700,000.
Several
years ago, the son of one of Singapore's billionaires said
in a public speech that "greed is good" because
it served as a builder of human enterprise and wealth.
He is
evidently not the only businessman to think in this way.
A rising number of executives of publicly listed companies
do more than just think; they are facing fraud or corruption
charges in court.
The
money culture is spreading but not every one is against
it. In the name of pragmatism and reality, some support
the principle that "if you want good service, you pay
for it".
Want
Olympic winners? Give a $1mil reward. In some charity bodies,
$3 out of every $10 you contribute may end up as commissions
to professional collectors.
Thank
goodness we have not reached America's level of money-mindedness
- yet! We don't have to tip our taxi-drivers or anyone just
to make a dinner booking, but for how long?
Under
a headline: "Tipping culture key to better service"
a Straits Times columnist suggested recently we should go
the US way.
Many
American restaurants, she said, have a habit of assigning
one server to each party of guests, and he tends to provide
good exclusive service because he knows he will get a 15-20
per cent tip.
Needless
to say, her idea to do it here hasn't been greeted with
any overwhelming enthusiasm.
What
the society needs is less talk of 'Want good service? Pay
me well!'
(An
expanded article that was written exclusively for The Sunday
Star on Jun 26, 2005)