Singapore Cools Off
....And All Must Pitch In
From public buses to crematorium, the air-condition is making its presence felt. Some people contend that Singapore suffers from air-conditioning overkill, but there a national reason for it, reports Wayne Arnold, NY Times.
June 2, 2002

SINGAPORE -- Even the dead get air-conditioning here, less than 100 miles from the Equator.

Every day in Singapore is a dog day, with suffocating humidity and temperatures regularly reaching the 90's.

When asked to name the most important invention of the 20th century, Singapore's first prime minister and elder statesman, Lee Kuan Yew, singled out the air-conditioner.

Lim Swee Say, Singapore's environment minister, told air-conditioning executives last year: "Air-conditioning plays a crucial role in our economy. Without it, many of our rank-and-file workers would probably be sitting under coconut trees to escape from the heat and humidity, instead of working in high-tech factories."

It makes perfect sense, then, that this sweltering place is taking the concept of central air-conditioning to a higher level, and making it mandatory.

On a patch of land reclaimed from the sea, workers are digging tunnels that will carry natural gas, electricity and telephone lines to what the government has decided will be a new downtown area, called Marina South.

But the tunnels will also carry cold water that buildings will use in place of their own air-conditioners in order to keep cool.

The water will come from a central plant, essentially a giant water cooler, inside the area's first building. District cooling, as this system is known, is nothing new.

American cities like New Orleans, Nashville, San Diego and Baltimore have for years been switching to district cooling as a cheaper alternative to single-building systems.

Singapore, however, is adding its own twist.

While cost considerations often lead owners of American buildings to make the switch, the developers in Marina South will not have to consider the issue at all: true to its reputation for central control, the government here has mandated that they use district cooling.

"It has better energy efficiency, consumes less water and takes up less land," said Yeo Yek Seng, deputy chief executive of the Energy Market Authority of Singapore.

The roles of the air-conditioner here go far beyond comfort. Singapore has used it to transplant the business routines of temperate lands into a tropical climate.

More than a status symbol, the air-conditioner is a metaphor for the control that Singapore exerts over many aspects of life, from labour and finance to its media and political debate.

"Singaporeans have thus far been willing to enjoy the comforts the system provides while enduring a high degree of control by the central government," said Cherian George, author of a collection of political essays entitled "Singapore: The Air-Conditioned Nation."

Before air-conditioning, commerce was confined to the cooler morning hours. "By 11:30 a.m. it was gin and tonics," said John R. S. Kirkham, an Australian who grew up in Singapore before World War II and now runs an air-conditioning consulting firm here.

After Carrier, the American air-conditioner company, entered Singapore in the 1950's, the machines quickly found their way into fancy restaurants, banks and government offices.

It was not long before anybody who was anyone, from expatriate managers to Chinese tin tycoons, had an air-conditioner.

After wigged British justices got theirs, local lawyers soon followed; those lawyers included Lee Kuan Yew, then a young man struggling to reacclimate himself after a stint at Oxford.

Shopping and dining in air-conditioned buildings became a mark of upward mobility. "Escaping into A.C. was a way of escaping your past as a poor country," said Chua Beng Huat, a sociology professor at the National University of Singapore.

For decades, though, air-conditioning remained rare in average households. In 1988, fewer than one in five had it.

By 1998, nearly three in five did, transforming Singapore's architectural landscape. Breezy balconies and the dirt and insects they admitted were forsaken for high-rises bristling with wall units.

For some, air-conditioning is a matter of both life and death. At the Ji Le Memorial Park, $7,000 buys a his-and-hers niche where cremated remains rest in climate-controlled peace.

"Chinese are very superstitious," said a Ji Le caretaker, Rick Chu. "Now they're enjoying the good life. After they pass away, they want to make sure they're still comfortable."

Air-conditioners can create their own problems. Residents found harbouring malaria- and dengue-carrying mosquitoes in the stagnant water of air-conditioner trays face fines of up to US$2,700.

Neglecting to disinfect cooling towers against deadly Legionella bacteria is punishable by fines of more than $5,000. Failing to support a wall unit adequately to keep it from tumbling can mean six months in jail for an apartment owner.

Some people contend that Singapore suffers from air-conditioning overkill. Engineers say offices here typically keep their thermostats at about 72 degrees, making cardigans part of many an office wardrobe.

But in high-tech Singapore, air-conditioning is becoming less about cooling people than about cooling computers. Companies that operate trading floors, for example, often invest in two systems in case one breaks down.

Air-conditioners account for nearly 10 percent of the cost of a new building and roughly 60 percent of its monthly power bill, according to Yeo Choon Chong, a manager at Meinhardt, an engineering consulting firm here.

Officials are concerned that Singapore may be spending too much on air-conditioning.

With district cooling, though, engineers estimate that they can cut a building's cooling costs by up to 20 percent, excluding what building owners save on installation and maintenance.

The concept has been around for decades, but it was not until the United States banned chlorofluorocarbons in 1996 that it really caught on.

Faced with having to buy new air-conditioners, building owners from Baltimore to San Diego switched to district cooling. Others in Europe and Japan soon followed.

One big advantage is economy of scale: it is cheaper to chill a lot of water for many buildings than for each building to chill a little of its own.

A district cooling plant saves money by chilling water at night when electricity is cheaper, storing the water in tanks.

Singapore is a late convert to district cooling. After dismissing it in the 1970's as a waste of land, planners rediscovered the idea in the mid-90's while studying Yokohama, Japan, for ways to develop the growing downtown area.

Like Singapore, Yokohama had expanded onto reclaimed land and used common service tunnels. But it had also adopted district cooling.

There was one problem, the Urban Redevelopment Authority learned. "It's not a very profitable business" if consumers have alternative sources of supply, said Lim Teck Leong, the authority's executive civil engineer.

Persuading Singapore's monopoly utility at the time, Singapore Power, to invest in it would require a big incentive: a guaranteed market.

While it was studying what to do, two smaller district cooling plants opened in Singapore, both in areas where the property owners also owned the plant.

In March 2001, Singapore established the Energy Market Authority and gave it the power to mandate the use of district cooling.

The new authority promptly decreed that developments in the first 74 acres of the 890-acre Marina South area would have to buy district cooling.

"In other countries, developers would probably object," said Shahzad Nasim, managing director at Meinhardt. In Singapore, they have no choice.

The redevelopment authority sold the first parcel of land in Marina South, 2.8 acres, for $257 million to a joint venture between a local developer and two Hong Kong partners.

Robert Garman, the venture's general manager, says his company is happy to have the cooling plant in the twin towers it is building. "We're looking forward to a savings," he said.

Between the two buildings, on top of a shopping mall, Singapore Power will spend roughly $56 million to construct towers to chill water to 43 degrees and store it in tanks in an underground parking garage.

Developers expecting a windfall, however, may be in for a surprise. Until it has recouped its investment, Singapore Power plans to charge them roughly the same amount it would cost to power their own air-conditioners, said Tey Peng Kee, managing director of Singapore Power's district cooling division. Only then will rates go down.

Still, officials here hope that district cooling will eventually sell itself. "After it gains acceptance by developers, said Mr. Yeo of the Energy Market Authority, "it may not need to be made a mandatory requirement."