Singapore is the least ‘emo’
INSIGHT DOWN SOUTH
By SEAH CHIANG NEE
The Gallup poll revealed that only 36% of Singaporeans feel emotions on a daily basis.
ONCE while lecturing on global journalism to undergraduates, I talked of the need to tailor one’s behaviour to fit the contrasting personalities which a reporter might encounter abroad.
For example, when he meets a German or a Japanese, the tone should be serious and purposeful – not a back-slapping “Hail Fellow thee!” way which he can use on a friendly Filipino or Malaysian.
If he gets too familiar with people in Germany or Japan, they would probably think that’s he’s too flippant and not someone to be trusted.
The reason, I explained, was that the Germans and the Japanese were generally very serious, disciplined, industrious and humourless.
Treating Filipinos too seriously, on the other hand, could have the opposite effect, impressing upon them that you are too uppity.
I was a little surprised when the Gallup poll last week announced that the least emotional country was neither Japan nor Germany but Sing*apore.
Only 36% of people in this city reportedly felt positive or negative emotions on a daily basis.
What this shows is that people here are affluent but are not enjoying their wealth.
“Singaporeans are unlikely to report feelings of anger, physical pain, or other negative emotions. They’re not laughing a lot either.
“If you measure Singapore by the traditional indicators, they look like one of the best-run countries in the world,” said Jon Clifton, a Gallup partner in Washington.
“But if you look at everything that makes life worth living, they’re not doing so well.”
I don’t know how the Germans and Japanese fared in this poll, but the news that they generally display more emotions than Singaporeans came as a surprise to me.
I should have known better. Actually all three – Japanese, Ger*mans and Singaporeans – share some common post-World War Two features that render them relatively emotionless.
After the war, the Japanese and Germans rebuilt their war-devastated economies (with US’ help) into the world’s second and third richest countries in less than one generation.
Similarly, Singapore also transformed itself from a poverty-stricken island into one of the richest cities in the world, albeit a smaller scale of development.
Its per capita GDP rose from S$1,580 (RM3,950) in 1965 to S$63,050 (RM157,625) in 2011.
Today, the average Singaporean works 46.6 hours a week, the longest in the world.
The economic achievements of the trio in such a short span of time have rarely been matched in history, requiring, I believe, a certain trait of national characteristics.
And it is this trait – the relentless pursuit of economic success – that has created the perception that the Singaporean personality somehow stands apart from the rest of the region.
Many years ago when I was more actively covering South-East Asia, I often heard remarks that our people comprised very shrewd businessmen who should not be trusted in any business negotiations.
Those were the early days in our gingerly approach efforts to cement ties with the people around us.
During official conferences, when others often began by exchanging social pleasantries and jokes, the Singaporeans – I was told – would prefer not to waste time with small talk but to instead move straight to the agenda.
Often, we stood out like a sore thumb.
We had a business-like, emotionless approach to making friends or making deals, while our neighbours were easy-going and joke-cracking.
Those were the early days.
Today, we have come a long way towards fitting in and now, we see even Asean leaders joining in to sing songs before a summit.
But I was told that most Singa*porean representatives, including top scholars, often felt awkward on such merry-making, social-bonding occasions.
They’d rather make a project presentation than crack a joke.
As an editor, I once sat next to a Singaporean minister at an official lunch and found myself engaged in a largely one-sided conversation.
He spent much time sitting in emotionless silence or simply ans*wering questions with one-or-two-line sentences.
On a comparable visit to Bonn, I met a group of German businessmen at a formal dinner who similarly struck me as being awkward at small talk.
However, when I asked whether the new German generation of youths had, or had not, lost their zest for hard work and discipline, their conversation kicked into high gear.
After reading about the emotionless Singaporeans, I searched and spotted a survey last year which “confirmed what the world knew all along that Germans are completely humourless.” Other common terms used to describe Germany included aggressive, distant, stubborn and obsessed with details.
Similarly, the world perceives the Japanese as very clever, insanely organised and humourless.
One common link between both societies is the quality of “excellence”, a pursuit that is often emphasised in Singapore.
The explanation is that all these three countries have worked ext*remely hard for decades to reach their current economic standing.
Whether this has affected the ability of their people to express emotions as readily as others with a less strenuous culture must be left to scientists to determine.
So what is wrong with being an emotionless society as long as it is financially successful?
“The implications of being an emotionless society are significant,” according to Clifton of Gallup.
“To continue to be competitive in today’s world, Singapore must begin focusing on behavioural-based indicators that move beyond GDP.
“The bottom line is that Singa*poreans are productive, highly disciplined citizens who are not enjoying their lives much,” he said.
“This culture has won historically, but it will not move to the next level until its leadership takes well-being seriously.”
“Singaporeans take themselves a bit too seriously,” said William Wan, who heads the Singapore Kindness Movement.
“I wish they would loosen up a bit.”
INSIGHT DOWN SOUTH
By SEAH CHIANG NEE
The Gallup poll revealed that only 36% of Singaporeans feel emotions on a daily basis.
ONCE while lecturing on global journalism to undergraduates, I talked of the need to tailor one’s behaviour to fit the contrasting personalities which a reporter might encounter abroad.
For example, when he meets a German or a Japanese, the tone should be serious and purposeful – not a back-slapping “Hail Fellow thee!” way which he can use on a friendly Filipino or Malaysian.
If he gets too familiar with people in Germany or Japan, they would probably think that’s he’s too flippant and not someone to be trusted.
The reason, I explained, was that the Germans and the Japanese were generally very serious, disciplined, industrious and humourless.
Treating Filipinos too seriously, on the other hand, could have the opposite effect, impressing upon them that you are too uppity.
I was a little surprised when the Gallup poll last week announced that the least emotional country was neither Japan nor Germany but Sing*apore.
Only 36% of people in this city reportedly felt positive or negative emotions on a daily basis.
What this shows is that people here are affluent but are not enjoying their wealth.
“Singaporeans are unlikely to report feelings of anger, physical pain, or other negative emotions. They’re not laughing a lot either.
“If you measure Singapore by the traditional indicators, they look like one of the best-run countries in the world,” said Jon Clifton, a Gallup partner in Washington.
“But if you look at everything that makes life worth living, they’re not doing so well.”
I don’t know how the Germans and Japanese fared in this poll, but the news that they generally display more emotions than Singaporeans came as a surprise to me.
I should have known better. Actually all three – Japanese, Ger*mans and Singaporeans – share some common post-World War Two features that render them relatively emotionless.
After the war, the Japanese and Germans rebuilt their war-devastated economies (with US’ help) into the world’s second and third richest countries in less than one generation.
Similarly, Singapore also transformed itself from a poverty-stricken island into one of the richest cities in the world, albeit a smaller scale of development.
Its per capita GDP rose from S$1,580 (RM3,950) in 1965 to S$63,050 (RM157,625) in 2011.
Today, the average Singaporean works 46.6 hours a week, the longest in the world.
The economic achievements of the trio in such a short span of time have rarely been matched in history, requiring, I believe, a certain trait of national characteristics.
And it is this trait – the relentless pursuit of economic success – that has created the perception that the Singaporean personality somehow stands apart from the rest of the region.
Many years ago when I was more actively covering South-East Asia, I often heard remarks that our people comprised very shrewd businessmen who should not be trusted in any business negotiations.
Those were the early days in our gingerly approach efforts to cement ties with the people around us.
During official conferences, when others often began by exchanging social pleasantries and jokes, the Singaporeans – I was told – would prefer not to waste time with small talk but to instead move straight to the agenda.
Often, we stood out like a sore thumb.
We had a business-like, emotionless approach to making friends or making deals, while our neighbours were easy-going and joke-cracking.
Those were the early days.
Today, we have come a long way towards fitting in and now, we see even Asean leaders joining in to sing songs before a summit.
But I was told that most Singa*porean representatives, including top scholars, often felt awkward on such merry-making, social-bonding occasions.
They’d rather make a project presentation than crack a joke.
As an editor, I once sat next to a Singaporean minister at an official lunch and found myself engaged in a largely one-sided conversation.
He spent much time sitting in emotionless silence or simply ans*wering questions with one-or-two-line sentences.
On a comparable visit to Bonn, I met a group of German businessmen at a formal dinner who similarly struck me as being awkward at small talk.
However, when I asked whether the new German generation of youths had, or had not, lost their zest for hard work and discipline, their conversation kicked into high gear.
After reading about the emotionless Singaporeans, I searched and spotted a survey last year which “confirmed what the world knew all along that Germans are completely humourless.” Other common terms used to describe Germany included aggressive, distant, stubborn and obsessed with details.
Similarly, the world perceives the Japanese as very clever, insanely organised and humourless.
One common link between both societies is the quality of “excellence”, a pursuit that is often emphasised in Singapore.
The explanation is that all these three countries have worked ext*remely hard for decades to reach their current economic standing.
Whether this has affected the ability of their people to express emotions as readily as others with a less strenuous culture must be left to scientists to determine.
So what is wrong with being an emotionless society as long as it is financially successful?
“The implications of being an emotionless society are significant,” according to Clifton of Gallup.
“To continue to be competitive in today’s world, Singapore must begin focusing on behavioural-based indicators that move beyond GDP.
“The bottom line is that Singa*poreans are productive, highly disciplined citizens who are not enjoying their lives much,” he said.
“This culture has won historically, but it will not move to the next level until its leadership takes well-being seriously.”
“Singaporeans take themselves a bit too seriously,” said William Wan, who heads the Singapore Kindness Movement.
“I wish they would loosen up a bit.”
