Singapore – Beautiful, Safe, Controlled

As we fly out, I’ve been trying to make sense of Singapore. These aren’t informed opinions, just impressions from a week of mostly tourist things.

The first layer is easy to admire, Singapore is certainly safe, clean, efficient. It works. Everything is lush and very green, and the city is designed for the heat in a way that makes 33–34 degree days bearable. Much of what we saw was almost offensively impressively ostentatious. I’d dare say that if you’re middle class or above, life really looks damn comfortable, maybe even enviable.

But other layers nag at me. English may be the official language, yet what you hear most often is Singlish, Malay, Chinese which is telling. And there are absences, no graffiti, no begging, no homeless, no people with obvious mental health and addiction issues, no vape shops, no sports fields (maybe they’re all indoors) and weirdly hardly any hearing aids. The rules are absolutely everywhere, the punishments really harsh… high fines, long sentences, caning and even the death penalty.

That safety and order is no accident. Public spaces maybe be beautiful but are blanketed in CCTV, and the police and courts are known for their efficiency and lack of compromise. Opposition politics do exist here, but protests require permits, independent media is limited, and defamation suits are sometimes used to keep critics quiet.

All of this fuels a lingering question… is Singapore really a police state? Critics say it prioritises control and order over individual liberties… and I think that might be true from what little I’ve seen. Others argue it’s more of a “nanny state” or “rule-of-law state,” since most people live with relative freedom so long as they don’t challenge the system. Either way, it’s technically a democracy… but one without real alternation of power. And that concerns me.

So does the suspicion that the shiny glossy surface depends on something darker… low-paid migrant workers maintaining the city under conditions I can’t quite see but can’t ignore either.

And then there’s us. Walking through malls, staying in hotels, enjoying the efficiency and safety. It’s hard not to feel entitled here, cushioned by privilege. That’s uncomfortable for me. Maybe it should be.

Singapore is celebrated for being orderly, modern, successful… and all of that is true. But I leave carrying more complicated feelings. Admiration mixed with unease, appreciation edged with doubt.

London next, a city I know far better. I wonder how organised, clean and safe it will appear in comparison. I wonder what price I’m willing to pay for that.