Misconceptions

Credit: The Straits Times.

A misconception I had about prison in Singapore was that it is full of unruly ruffians who are one step away from violence. I was mistaken.

In my experience, from appearance, prisoners seem almost no different from the average man in the street. They come from all walks of life. They have loved ones, they have dreams and hopes, they have worries and fears. Many truly regret what they had done to get them into prison in the first place, and many had sworn to me “I’ll never break the law again”. Most do not want trouble in prison; they just want to finish their sentences so they can be released on time and restart their lives as soon as possible. If one is decent to them, they will be decent in return. They recognise that everyone is in the same boat - life behind bars can be very tough, emotionally and mentally, so why not be civilised and make life for everyone else a little bit easier.

For me, seeing and acknowledging the humanity in other prisoners was my first step in cultivating a renewed empathy for others.

Another misconception I had was that prison officers are hard on the inmates. Also largely untrue.

The average prison officer sees his job not to punish the prisoner - that is the duty of the courts, who mete out the sentences - but rather, to oversee order in prison, and ensure prisoners are rehabilitated as much as possible by the time they are released. If they act with sternness or even coldness sometimes, it is because some prisoners do deliberately test the rules, or attempt to wind them up or get them on their side for selfish ends. I understand the prison officer’s need to maintain a certain distance from prisoners - it is a prison after all, not a holiday chalet. But generally, prison officers treat prisoners civilly, and as human beings worthy of basic respect and dignity.

Giving up the forest for the trees

The HDB said Tengah, which is about the size of Bishan and billed as Singapore’s “forest town”, will dedicate about 20 per cent of its 700ha to green spaces.

Located next to Tengah’s Central Park green lung, the Park district will occupy 104ha and feature a number of green ways, such as a 1.5km-long rainforest walk.

Tengah is the first HDB town to be developed since Punggol more than two decades ago.

The Tengah masterplan was first revealed in 2016, and since 2018, over 7,000 new flats have been offered. When fully developed, the town will have about 42,000 new homes, with the first residents expected to start moving in from 2022.

Credit: The Straits Times.

I know the urban development of the sprawling Tengah forest - which has flourished since the last villages in the area were resettled in the 1990s - was inevitable. Plans for a Tengah town had existed for a long time.

But I still feel sad when I see an actual secondary forest being cleared for a “forest town”.

Tengah town may be a “forest town”, but it’s still a town. Almost none of the original forest cover will be retained.

This:

And this:

Credit: Google Maps.

Will be replaced by this:

Credit: Housing and Development Board.

A key feature of Tengah is the car-free town centre. Roads will run beneath it to free up the ground level and to allow for a bicycle-friendly environment.

So the town centre won’t exactly be “car-free” - the roads will just be pushed underground, out of sight.

It’s good to free up surface land for community use, but it doesn’t tackle the macro problem of Singapore still having too many cars, and too many roads. This is not an issue that adjusting the configuration of one town centre can solve. It has to be a nationwide policy involving all towns mature and new. One car-lite town does not make a car-lite city-state.

The rationale for rationalisation

Mr Ong Ye Kung’s just been made Transport Minister, but he already has had to deal with one hot potato, a perennial one - rationalisation, which is the amending or withdrawing of bus services with low demand.

This time, it’s the residents of Bukit Panjang, who are already used to drawing the short straw when it comes to public transport - look no further than the history of its incident-prone Light Rapid Transit system.

On 3 August, as a rationalisation exercise, the Land Transport Authority (LTA), Singapore’s bus route planner, announced the withdrawal of two SMRT bus services, 700 and 700A, and the amendment of two more services, 171 and 972. These services plied along the Downtown Line (DTL) - which meant a duplication of resources.

SMRT Bus Service 700. Credit: Businterchange.net.

Cue public outrage over the changes which would affect tens of thousands of residents, extending the journeys of some by at least 20 minutes.

On 7 August, Minister Ong was forced to, ahem, rationalise the rationalisation, revealing that $60 million a year in public funds goes towards subsidising operations for the DTL connecting Bukit Panjang to the city. Also, two of the bus services to be rationalised were also being subsidised at $14 million a year. Which means it didn’t make economic sense to keep both running.

He said: “If the bus services are the only public transport option available to residents, LTA is able to justify the public spending… But with the DTL available, LTA needs to exercise prudence in public spending, and is hence making the changes announced.”

After more than a week of negotiations between LTA, the Ministry of Transport, and Bukit Panjang town MPs, compromises were finally worked out on 13 August, which saw some changes withdrawn, and other bus services step in to plug the transport gaps left by other changes. The rationalisation furore looks to have died down, but it will not be the last.

The finalised bus routes. Credit: The Straits Times.

As my book Jalan Singapura mentions, rationalisation has been an issue as early as the 1970s, when the newly-formed Singapore Bus Service - a private company - laboured to figure out how to best serve the rapidly-changing urban landscape of an island city-state while keeping its profit margins healthy. It did not make economic sense to maintain bus services which ensured 100% connectivity across all locations but did not pull in enough commuters to pay for themselves.

This financial logic became even more apparent when the North South MRT Line opened in 1987. Almost immediately, bus services which ran parallel to the line and suffered a significant decline in ridership - at least a third - were amended or withdrawn, much to the chagrin of commuters.

The North South Line in Ang Mo Kio, 1995. Credit: Mark S. Feinman.

Herein lies the fundamental dilemma - offer more choices to commuters, or keep the spending of funds, be it public or private, prudent?

With regards to dollars and cents, rationalisation is rational. But when it comes to public sentiments towards public transport, just rational, economic considerations are not enough.

Ultimately, the authorities must mull over rationalisation taking into account the nationwide car-lite drive, which officially began in 2014. Removing unprofitable bus services will not help the nationwide push to get people to give up their cars for good. Going car-lite doesn’t mean just cutting back on the car population and car usage - it also means giving commuters so many public transport options, falling back on private transport is out of the question.

Perhaps, in this light, rationalisation would sound less rational.