The Singlish Controversy by Professor Lionel Wee: Addendum

The Speak Good English Movement (SGEM) arose out of the government's concern about Singlish having a negative effect on the population's ability to learn "standard" English and consequently lose competitiveness in the global economy. This naturally led to the SGEM adopting a combative stance towards Singlish, as described in The Singlish Controversy.

But Professor Lionel Wee published the book at the start of 2018. The SGEM has changed its approach since then. This is largely due to its new chairman, Mr Jason Leow.

He took the reins at the SGEM last year and has been covered by media such as Mothership and The Straits Times.

As he was my department head when I was a communications intern at the national sovereign wealth fund GIC, I had the rare opportunity to interact with him personally and learn more about his views on language in society.

At first, I was surprised by his flagrant use of Singlish. He used it in speech and in writing, and his subordinates used it freely too. I then recalled from my sociolinguistics lessons that people use colloquial varieties like Singlish, as opposed to "standard" varieties, to reduce social distance or, put simply, to appear friendly.

Another point struck me too. As people in the field of communications, all of us working under Jason, as well as Jason himself, have a strong command of the English language. This means that we have the linguistic resources to code-switch. According to the demands of the situation, we can shift upwards to using "standard" English, and downwards to Singlish quite easily. Contrast this to someone with a weak grasp of English: they will not have the same ability because they just do not possess "standard" English in their repertoire. In other words, they are stuck with using only Singlish, or some other kind of "broken" English, simply because they have no choice.

It is this angle that Jason's version of the SGEM approaches the Singlish issue from. It does not aim to destroy Singlish. Jason told me that he recognises the right of Singlish to exist alongside "standard" English, and even encourages its use in appropriate contexts. For me, this brought to mind the concept of the Singlitterati: the writers, poets, artists, and other creative folks who use Singlish in a purposeful and playful way in their works. The Singlitterati are staunch defenders of Singlish and have had many run-ins with anti-Singlish parties including the SGEM of old. Perhaps they will find the refreshed SGEM under Jason more palatable.

Instead, the new SGEM emphasises choice: it wants people to be able to choose to use Singlish or "standard" English. People need to be armed with the linguistic repertoire to do so: they need to know "standard" English so that they can switch to it when needed. To this end, Jason's SGEM aims to educate and not preach. Rather than nagging at Singaporeans not to use Singlish, the SGEM now wants to provide plenty of learning tools for them to improve their command of English and become better able to discern between "standard" English and Singlish.

This more moderate approach I can get behind. Although I do not consider myself Singlitterati, I bristle at people who make blanket accusations against Singlish and try to get rid of it. Singlish is usually able to express a thought far more elegantly than "standard" English, which is very pleasing to me as a writer and communicator. It is also useful for building closer relationships with fellow Singlish speakers. Finally, it is a matter of national pride: Singlish is the language of my beloved country, Singapore.

In short, I like to use Singlish what. Got problem is it? Go outside settle!

Check out the first installment of The Singlish Controversy summary series here: The Singlish Controversy by Professor Lionel Wee: Introduction.

The Singlish Controversy by Professor Lionel Wee: Chapter 7

We ended the previous chapter wondering "What is Singlish?"

This chapter, the last in the book, tackles that question. But if you're looking for a concrete definition like "What is diffusion? Diffusion is the movement of particles from a region of higher concentration to a region of lower concentration." then I'm sorry. That's not how the humanities works.

Instead, our answer to "What is Singlish?" accounts for the many nuances in how Singlish is used and the people who use it.

Indexicality

Indexicality is the deeper meaning behind someone's use of language.

For example, I sometimes say "chewren" instead of "children". The former is the Singaporean way of pronouncing the latter. According to sociolinguistic theory, I don't do so randomly. There is a pattern that determines whether I say "chewren" or "children" in a given situation. If I'm motivated to highlight the fact that I am a Singaporean, for instance, I am more likely to say "chewren" because that pronunciation is a mark of Singaporean-ness.

More formally, what I just explained can be rewritten as follows: the pronunciation "chewren" indexes my Singaporean identity.

It's not difficult to imagine how we can think about Singlish in terms of indexicality. Let's look at an example.

My bowl of bak chor mee [a noodle dish] at the coffee shop nearby recently upped their prices from $2 to $2.20. Some have even upped it to $2.50. And don’t even talk about aircon food court prices. Inflation? Where got inflation? Singapore economy booming what.

The Singlish here, in italics, must be seen in conjunction with the surrounding text which is in "standard" English. It is the switch from "standard" to nonstandard that's noteworthy because it indexes several things.

1. A sarcastic expression of disbelief that there is no inflation and that the economy is booming. The switch to Singlish functions like an alarm light, telling people to sit up and take extra notice so that they will be able to detect the sarcasm.
2. The author's Singaporean identity. He is showing his ability to use Singlish, which marks him out as a Singaporean.
3. The author's positive attitude towards Singlish. The fact that he was using "standard" English before switching to Singlish shows that he is capable of using both. The fact that he is willing to switch to Singlish shows that he is not against its use.

Another interesting example is the word "got". It has many possible meanings in Singlish.

I got two brother, one sister. I have two brothers and one sister.

Here, "got" means to possess, or that something exists.

I got go to Japan. I did go to Japan.

Here, "got" means something actually occurred.

Person 1: This dress very red. Person 2: Where got?
Person 1: This dress is very red. Person 2: Is it? I don't think so.

Here, "got" signals disagreement.

The many meanings of "got" shows how difficult it is to pin down what Singlish actually is. It's not something static. It is very fluid and dependent on many factors: who is speaking, where the speaker is, who else is present, what the topic is, what the prevailing mood of the conversation is, how the speaker feels towards the topic, and so on.

Remember how, at the end of the previous chapter, we saw that the government's and Singlish supporters' arguments were both problematic? That's the result of the slippery nature of Singlish.

And there's nothing wrong with that. Humanities isn't about knowing the "correct" answer, because very often there's no such thing. We have to be okay with ambiguity.

So what is Singlish? It's whatever it means to each and every individual Singaporean, and each and every individual Singaporean will have a different concept of what Singlish is.

The Singlish Controversy by Professor Lionel Wee: Chapter 6

People use languages like Singlish. People move around, sometimes even migrating from one country to another. Languages follow, and also cross geographical borders.

This is the phenomenon that this chapter examines.

Incoming!

One possible direction of people movement is inwards, from outside Singapore into Singapore.

Singapore, along with many other developed countries, has been struggling with a low fertility rate for many years. The population is more educated than before, and prioritises career advancement over childbearing.

A low fertility rate means that Singapore's population will not replace itself and will eventually decline. Singapore cannot allow this to happen because human resources are the only resources Singapore has to sustain its economy.

So the Singapore government adopts a strategy of attracting foreign talent. The idea is that by wooing capable and skilled workers to move to Singapore and subsequently become citizens, the shortfall in the fertility rate can be compensated for.

Besides foreign talent, Singapore also brings in lowly paid labourers for jobs such as construction that the educated Singapore populace doesn't want to do.

The effect of this has been an upheaval in the previously established Chinese-Malay-Indian-Others (CMIO) ethnic order. With more and more foreigners from a variety of countries taking up citizenship and even marrying and producing children in Singapore, it's becoming increasingly difficult to categorise people neatly into the CMIO groups. Indeed, the Others category accounted for 3.3% of the population in 2010, a sharp increase from 1.4% in 2000.

In response, the government allowed double-barrelled racial identification in 2011, in which people with mixed parentage could decide to take up both of their parents' races with a hyphen in between.

But this comes with its own set of problems.

For one, the race that comes first takes precedence over the race that comes second for official purposes. So someone with a Chinese father and a Malay mother can choose to call themselves Chinese-Malay or Malay-Chinese. If they opt for "Chinese-Malay", they are regarded as being "more Chinese, less Malay" and will take Chinese as a mother tongue language in school and get financial support from the Chinese Development Assistance Council (CDAC) in times of trouble. If they opt for "Malay-Chinese", they are regarded as being "more Malay, less Chinese" and will take Malay as a mother tongue language in school and get financial support from Mendaki, the equivalent of the CDAC for the Malay community, in times of trouble. This means that having a double-barrelled race is not truly being of mixed heritage from the government's perspective, since there's still a "dominant" race and a "less dominant" one.

Additionally, the government has said that it won't be extending the allowance to more than two races. In other words, it will not be allowing triple-barrelled or quad-barrelled races. This raises questions about how children of parents who themselves have double-barrelled races will be handled, since for example a child of an Indian-Malay father and a Caucasian-Chinese mother could technically identify as any permutation of the four ethnicities, for instance Caucasian-Chinese-Indian-Malay.

The rising proportion of foreigners and citizens of foreign descent poses two challenges for Singapore's language policy.

First, the mother tongue policy is becoming difficult to implement. More people don't fit neatly into the Chinese, Malay, and Indian categories, so they don't have an official mother tongue that can be assigned to them. And because the government insists that mother tongues must be Asian to resist the effects of Westernisation and tie people back to their cultural roots, English cannot serve as a mother tongue. So we have a problem: There are increasing numbers of children of mixed and foreign parentage, including even Westerners, in local schools who are forced to learn mother tongues for the sake of it, even if does not mean anything to them culturally. Related to this, English is losing its neutrality. The government wanted it to be the primary language for communication between all races because it was a non-Asian language and did not "belong" to any of the ethnic groups in Singapore. But now, there are many foreigners, particularly those of Western origin, for whom English is a native language. This calls for a rethink of the government's language policies with regard to the roles of English and the mother tongues.

The second point relates directly to Singlish. Supporters of Singlish have argued that it serves as a marker of the Singapore identity and a unifying force to bind all Singaporeans regardless of background. But if this is so, then the unifying force is slowly weakening as foreigners, who don't come with a ready ability to speak Singlish, "dilute" the Singapore identity. More sinisterly, Singaporeans are using Singlish competence as a shibboleth. A shibboleth is a distinctive characteristic. The ability to speak Singlish is assumed to be a shibboleth that distinguishes a Singaporean from a non-Singaporean. So those who cannot speak Singlish are treated as outsiders. In this way, Singlish has been turned into a weapon. Anti-foreigner sentiments are running higher in Singapore as it is perceived that foreign talent is depriving Singaporeans of jobs. Since Singlish is used to distinguish Singaporeans from non-Singaporeans, those who don't speak Singlish will have a large target painted on their backs. Even Singaporeans who cannot speak Singlish, for example those who grew up overseas before returning to Singapore, as well as Singaporeans who consciously don't use Singlish, are seen as "not Singaporean" and may be the subject of vitriol.

Exodus

Another direction that people move in is outwards, from Singapore to other countries. When this happens, they take Singlish to foreign lands.

In the early days of Singapore, the government was keen to keep Singaporeans rooted physically in Singapore. They built large public housing estates and sold the apartments in these estates at heavily subsidised prices, so that the majority of Singaporeans own their homes. In this way, the government hoped to foster among the people a sense of attachment to Singapore.

With the advent of globalisation, the government's mindset had to adapt to keep up with the times. Singaporeans were increasingly going overseas to work and do business. The physical connection to Singapore soil didn't apply as broadly as before. But the government was still anxious to remind overseas Singaporeans of their identity as Singaporeans. This was largely spurred by pragmatism: Singaporeans who lose sight of their Singaporean identity and renounce citizenship will contribute to brain drain, causing the Singapore workforce to become less talented as a whole.

The government started some initiatives to connect overseas Singaporeans back to their homeland. For example, Singapore Day is a regular event held in major cities such as New York City, London, and Melbourne. During Singapore Day, famous hawkers are flown from Singapore to give overseas Singaporeans a taste of home.

Singlish is often seen and heard at Singapore Day events, with Singaporeans having a "gleeful time" using it with one another. Under normal circumstances, overseas Singaporeans don't get to use Singlish except on the rare occasion that a group of them gets together with no foreigners present.

Interestingly, intermarriages between overseas Singaporeans and foreigners in other countries have taken place. These marriages have allowed Singlish to spread even further. For example, a Malaysian woman who could use Manglish, the Malaysian counterpart to Singlish, moved to Singapore as a young adult to study and begin her career. While in Singapore, she picked up Singlish. Later, she moved again to San Francisco where she married an American. According to her, the American man picked up Singlish from her and uses it "unself-consciously", even to engage in arguments with her as couples do. Hers is not a one-off case. A female Malay Singaporean who married a Swedish man in Stockholm said her husband had learned Singlish through interacting with her and her circle of Singaporean friends in Sweden. Singaporeans in America "noted that some of their American colleagues would express interest in Singlish and would ask for demonstrations of this variety".

The class divide

Supporters of Singlish say that it transcends class boundaries because it is used by Singaporeans from all walks of life, a claim that the government disputes. In reality, Singlish and class are closely linked.

In 1999, then-Prime Minister Mr Goh Chok Tong defined two types of Singaporean: the cosmopolitans and the heartlanders.

The cosmopolitans are the ones who migrate out of Singapore because they have good career opportunities overseas. They are professionals in the banking, IT, engineering, science and technology sectors, and they speak "standard" English as well as their mother tongue.

The heartlanders are from more humble backgrounds. They are taxi-drivers, stallholders, provision shop owners, production workers, and contractors, and none of them leave Singapore because they can't find jobs overseas. Most importantly, they speak Singlish.

Mr Goh explained that both types of Singaporean have a role to play. They support each other. The cosmopolitans bring prosperity to Singapore, which benefits the heartlanders economically. Meanwhile, the heartlanders anchor the cultural roots of Singapore by maintaining the social values that Singaporeans hold dear, so that the cosmopolitans won't lose touch with their inner Singaporean. If the cosmopolitans and the heartlanders go into conflict, Singapore society will crumble, warned Mr Goh.

Problematically, Mr Goh claims that Singlish is a feature of the heartlanders. But the government does use Singlish to communicate with the cosmopolitans too, such as during Singapore Day. And the cosmopolitans use Singlish with one another, as mentioned earlier. So Singlish is used by both heartlanders and cosmopolitans, which means it can indeed transcend class boundaries and bond Singaporeans from various socioeconomic groups.

On the other hand, Singlish supporters say that "Singlish is a language for fun, humour, and one where speakers are also encouraged to deliberately play around with linguistic conventions". But they're failing to acknowledge that the heartlanders use Singlish for more mundane and even serious purposes too, mostly because they lack the ability to use "standard" English. This lack of ability also doesn't allow them to play around with language the way Singlish supporters do. It is this lack that Singlish supporters are citing when they claim that Singlish can bond Singaporeans from various socioeconomic groups. But by their reasoning, only cosmopolitans use Singlish, at least to the fullest extent of being playful with it!

How is it possible for both sides to have such big holes in their arguments? Maybe it's because they have different definitions of what Singlish really is. They can't hold a logical debate if their understanding of the most fundamental issue "What is Singlish?" is extremely divergent.

In the next chapter, which is the last, we will try to figure out the answer to the question "What is Singlish?", as we grapple with the many complicating factors involved such as the ambiguity of the "Singaporean identity" in this globalising world.

The Singlish Controversy by Professor Lionel Wee: Chapter 5

This chapter focuses on the commodification of Singlish.

The word "commodification" comes from "commodity", which refers to something desirable or useful.

Traditionally, we think of commodities as physical goods that can be transferred from one party to another, like gold, silver, wheat, and milk.

But increasingly, people recognise that intangible things can also be commodities. For example, skills are considered commodities even though they cannot be passed from one person to another the same way that physical goods can, because they do meet the basic definition of a commodity: they are useful.

Language is like a skill. It's something you acquire by learning, and you can develop it and become progressively better at it.

In this way, we can think of language as a sort of commodity. This implies that it is useful and/or desirable.

So when we talk about the commodification of language, we're actually referring to the process of making a language useful.

When it comes to Singlish, commodification is especially important to understand because the Singapore government often argues that Singlish is useless.

Is it really so?

Books, films, and plays: Showing off to the world

The Singapore government's claim that outsiders cannot understand and appreciate Singlish has proven to be false.

Many works by Singaporean writers have found global success. For example, The Coxford Singlish Dictionary, a lighthearted repository of Singlish expressions resembling an actual dictionary, was praised as "invaluable" by the Times of London. "Humorous, with lots of cross-cultural wordplay" was the opinion of the British Broadcasting Corporation. Note that these are media outlets in Britain, which is where Singapore often looks to determine what "standard" English is.

Singapore Dreaming was a movie that also attracted critical acclaim. Audiences around the world loved the use of Singlish dialogue. Taiwanese youth started repeating some of their favourite Singlish expressions from the film and were envious that Singapore has its own version of English. American and Spanish viewers could identify with how languages mix together the way they do in Singlish. One reviewer wrote that the use of Singlish in the film allowed him to "understand just how ‘globalized’ Singaporeans really are AND because of its use in the film, the story and characters seemed more familiar" to him.

Online, Singlish has spread quickly thanks to YouTube videos such as Sinful English.

And even universities are getting in on the act, with the University of York putting Singapore You Are Not My Country by Alfian Sa'at on its reading list for literature courses, and lion heart by Amanda Chong being on the syllabus for the General Certificate of Secondary Education (GCSE) examinations. These works contain Singlish expressions which literature students are expected to analyse for their deeper meanings.

At home

Numerous works targeted at a more local audience have also been created. For example, Mee Pok Man, Army Daze, and 12 Storeys were films that enjoyed success at the local box office. Because the films were set in Singapore, it was crucial to use Singlish for the dialogue to ensure authenticity.

A book titled Singaporelang - What the Singlish? was published in conjunction with the fiftieth anniversary of Singapore's independence, supported by a government grant. This shows the "schizophrenic attitude towards Singlish on the part of the government", especially in contrast with the banning of Singapore Dreaming from local television because it contained what the government felt was excessive Singlish dialogue.

When the government thinks there is an opportunity for Singlish to be commodified, it is happy to lend its support. The clearest example of this is how the Singapore Tourism Board (STB), an arm of the government, readily promotes Singlish as a unique selling point of Singapore. Its website contains a guide to Singlish and entices visitors to come and hear it for themselves. In this case, Singlish is commodified for economic gain through attracting tourist spending.

Foreigners promoting Singlish

Not only Singaporeans produce works with Singlish. Foreigners are increasingly taking an interest in Singlish as the wealthy city-state attracts more and more expatriates. Some of them are writing about their experiences with Singlish.

For example, a blogger going by the moniker "Aussie Pete" wrote:

As time goes by, and one spends much time living and interracting with the locals (especially outside of the tourist areas), it soon becomes apparent that English alone is not enough to fully converse on local topics. The intent of this post is to offer a guide to non-Singlish speaking people to perhaps better understand what is going on around them.

Another writer Cullen Hartley wrote:

If you’re a soon-to-be expatriate planning a move to Singapore, you have undoubtedly heard of Singlish, the peculiar creole English spoken by most native Singaporeans. It is a mix of Malay, Chinese dialects, and English. Most people who bother to write about Singlish know it well, and they produce in-depth dictionaries cataloging the dialect’s nuances. These books are an ever-present facet of every Singaporean bookstore, and if you want to learn more the material is definitely out there. However, I feel the end result for most foreigners that pick up Singlish dictionaries is terminal information overload. People just don’t learn much from picking up a dictionary. Even-tempered expats become overwhelmed and give up and the more adventurous look silly as they misuse and mispronounce words. (Excuse me, did you see that ang kat makaning char siew cheem bye? Lah-lor.) I don’t claim to be an expert on Singlish, but I will share ten words that I guarantee that you’ll hear in Singapore.

In these examples, we can see non-Singaporeans trying to pass on their understanding of Singlish to other non-Singaporeans. Singlish has become more than a marker of Singaporean identity. It can be actively used and exchanged by non-Singaporeans too, taking on a more commodity-like character.

We will explore the impact of non-Singaporeans on Singlish further in the next chapter.

The Singlish Controversy by Professor Lionel Wee: Chapter 4

This chapter addresses the "who" in the Singlish debate: Who are the debaters? Who is left out?

In any debate, there will be more than one party. Each party has a voice. This isn't the literal sound that comes out from your throat. Voice in this context refers to the characteristics attached to a certain group of people when it speaks.

For example, academics such as professors and researchers are stereotyped as having their heads in the clouds, only capable of talking about theories but unable to apply them in the real world. This causes academics to have a reputation for being "ivory tower thinkers". That's their voice.

Another example: men are thought of as more rational while women are thought of as more emotional. In matters of the head, men tend to have a stronger voice and their opinions carry more weight. In matters of the heart, women have the stronger voice and people are more likely to listen to them.

Sometimes, people who have a stake in the debate don't have a voice. This means that they don't get to air their views. Obviously this is not fair because their interests are not represented. The term for this category of people is subaltern.

In the Singlish debate, the subaltern consists of people who can only speak Singlish because they didn't have access to adequate education in "standard" English.

Why is this so? The Singlish debate usually takes place in the media. For example, letters are written to the Forum page of The Straits Times stating arguments for and against Singlish. In recent years, the debate has gone online, with blog articles, forum posts, and Facebook pages popping up to attack and defend the local variety.

The common thread running through all these platforms is that they require contributions to be in more or less "standard" English. Even Facebook comments have to be written coherently, otherwise they won't be read by others.

In this way, people who cannot use "standard" English are precluded from participating in these discussions, even though they are also involved in everyday life in Singapore and should have a say.

Their views are instead represented by other parties, namely those with a command of "standard" English who actively participate in the debate. These parties speak on behalf of the subaltern. But this is problematic because they are not themselves the subaltern, and so can never truly understand and appreciate the subaltern's point of view.

We'll come back to the subaltern later, after we look at who are these active participants in the Singlish debate.

Who's talking?

The three parties in the Singlish debate are government officials, academics, and personalities from the creative and media industries such as DJs, filmmakers, authors, and bloggers.

What links all three is that they are highly educated. But they don't always have to take the same stand. For example, it doesn't mean that just because one is an academic, one is automatically pro-Singlish. Indeed, Koh Tai Ann was a professor of English literature at the Nanyang Technological University (NTU) and chairman of the Speak Good English Movement (SGEM) in 2005 when she said:

Singaporeans are perhaps too comfortable in their Singlish clothes. Even though T-shirts or housecoats might be improper attire for formal occasions, they still wear the linguistic equivalent when they meet visitors and at such occasions.

But in 2011, she became sympathetic towards the Singlish cause, saying:

Singlish should not be regarded as deviant and not ‘proper’ English, but as a spoken variety that has developed alongside the standard ‘proper’ English learnt in schools. Otherwise, we do ourselves a disservice by giving Singlish an odour of inferiority and shame.

A 2016 newspaper report on the inclusion of Singlish words in the updated Oxford English Dictionary (OED) contained quotes from: a poet, literary critic, and literature professor at the National University of Singapore (NUS); an author and columnist; a schoolteacher; an account manager; two students; a pair of filmmakers and authors; the then-chairman of SGEM; and the World English editor at OED who explained that the Singlish terms had been added because there was evidence that they were being widely used in published works such as books and plays.

Excluding the remarks by the chairman of SGEM which reiterated the government's anti-Singlish stance, the comments were largely welcoming of the move by OED. The strongest supporters were the poet and authors Gwee Li Sui, Colin Goh, and Sylvia Toh. They are part of the so-called Singlitterati, an exclusive group of practitioners in the artistic and literary fields who enjoy playing around with and promoting the use of Singlish.

This is noteworthy because the Singlitterati has been instrumental in the progress that Singlish has made in terms of acceptance by both locals and foreigners. Members of the Singlitterati produce books, poems, and scripts that make ample use of Singlish, and it was these books, poems, and scripts that convinced OED to include Singlish words.

Seizing on this, the government points out that pro-Singlish debaters, especially the Singlitterati, are being irresponsible towards their fellow Singaporeans who don't have as good a command of English as they do. In the wake of OED's announcement, Gwee Li Sui laid out the arguments in favour of Singlish in a commentary in the New York Times. It provoked a prickly retort from Li Lin Chang, press secretary to the prime minister, published in the same newspaper:

Standard English is vital for Singaporeans to earn a living and be understood not just by other Singaporeans but also English speakers everywhere. But English is not the mother tongue of most Singaporeans. For them, mastering the language requires extra effort. Using Singlish will make it harder for Singaporeans to learn and use standard English. Not everyone has a PhD in English Literature like Mr Gwee, who can code-switch effortlessly between Singlish and standard English, and extol the virtues of Singlish in an op-ed written in polished standard English.

In this line of reasoning, the government is concerned about the group of Singaporeans who don't use "standard" English not because they don't want to, but because they simply cannot. This is the subaltern mentioned earlier. By creating an environment where Singlish is widely used and even condoned, Singlitterati members are depriving such Singaporeans of the chance to learn and practise "standard" English.

Spoken for and spoken about, but never heard

The subaltern is spoken for and spoken about, but it is almost never heard from directly. This is the very definition of a subaltern. It is of such low status that it is seen as incapable of speaking for itself.

In the case of the Singlish debate, the subaltern is talked about by both sides. Of course, the two sides have opposite agendas so they speak of the subaltern differently, but there is one striking similarity: the subaltern is almost always presented as consisting of working-class people such as hawkers. Such workers are regarded as poorly educated and less wealthy because the jobs that they do require few qualifications and pay rather badly. This places them on a lower rung of the socioeconomic ladder. And because they lack much education, they can't speak "standard" English.

Three examples illustrate this point. On the anti-Singlish side, we have then-Minister for Information, Communications and the Arts Lee Boon Yang whose speech in 2003 contained the following:

It is not uncommon to hear some Singaporeans speak impeccable English when they are at work, or with their friends. But when they are speaking to a hawker at the hawker center or to a sales person in a shopping mall, they lapse into broken, ungrammatical English. It would appear that they do this so that people will not think that they are arrogant or that they are ‘westernized’. This in itself is not a bad attitude. It reflects consideration for the other person’s feelings. However, this practice, despite having a well-meant face saving reason, may inadvertently be perpetuating bad English. We should make an effort to arrest this trend. We must make speaking good English acceptable at all levels. Those who already speak good English should not be shy about doing so. In the same way you would not speak broken English to a child learning to speak, you would not want to pass on bad speaking habits to those whose command of the English language is not so good. If you can speak good English, please speak out at all times. This way those who do not speak English well can learn from those who do – not the other way around. In fact, I believe that the fastest way to speak good English is to have lots of opportunities to hear good English spoken around us.

Besides noting how the figures of a hawker and salesperson are used to portray situations in which Singlish is used, note also the infantilisation of the subaltern in the sentence: "In the same way you would not speak broken English to a child learning to speak, you would not want to pass on bad speaking habits to those whose command of the English language is not so good." Effectively, the Minister was saying that people with a poorer command of English are like children. This comes across as being quite offensive and insulting.

On the pro-Singlish side, we have the food blogger KF Seetoh who in 2014 waxed lyrical about the joys of learning Singapore hawker culture from a "Singlish-spewing, Chinese-educated, local Ah Pek (old uncle) trying his level best in his brand of English to ensure you get your food and seat fast and comfortably".

Finally, a relatively neutral perspective from a foreign blogger using the pen name Limpeh, a Hokkien phrase now adopted into Singlish meaning "your father":

Whether or not you need to speak standard English (as opposed to Singlish) depends on your personal circumstances. If you were representing your company internationally, attending major sales meetings in New York, London and Sydney, then you need to be able to communicate clearly in a way that best represents your company – if you are in this position, then hell no, you can’t speak Singlish to foreigners who will not understand you. But if you are selling laksa in a hawker center in Ang Mo Kio, then Singlish will serve you just fine – the odds of an American, British or Australian tourist finding their way to a hawker center on Ang Mo Kio street 61 is extremely slim, so why the hell would that laksa hawker need to speak proper English (or even any English at all)?

All three examples show people with higher education and a command of English, referring to the stereotypical image of a Singlish-speaking hawker as a member of the subaltern.

The Singlish debate is rife with further examples showing how the course of the discussions over the years has been heavily influenced by people in privileged positions such as those in the government and Singlitterati.

The Singlitterati portrays Singlish as humorous, fun, and informal through creative works like the book The Coxford Singlish Dictionary and the play Army Daze. But they are capable of doing so because of their better command of language. It's not likely that the subaltern uses Singlish in a similarly humorous and fun way.

On the other hand, the government portrays Singlish as undesirable because it hurts the subaltern's ability to learn "standard" English. But the subaltern itself never made that claim. Additionally, the claim assumes that "standard" English is something that must be learned formally and in a rigorous way such as through classroom instruction and conscientious practice in public, unlike Singlish which is made out to be very easy to pick up naturally through everyday interactions. Speakers who can code-switch are portrayed as doing a disservice to those who can't by removing opportunities for code-switching practice. But this begs the question: How did the code-switchers learn the skill in the first place? Presumably, they grew up in Singapore and were exposed to the same environment that tolerates Singlish, so what is it that enabled them to code-switch where others can't? Discovering the answer might allow us to craft language and education policies that accommodate both Singlish as well as "standard" English.

What to do?

Now that we're aware of the existence of the subaltern, it's natural to ask what we should do about it.

We can't solve the problem by simply asking the subaltern members for their opinions. As mentioned earlier, the Singlish debate is conducted in "standard" English, not Singlish. And subaltern members are subaltern members precisely because they can't use "standard" English. Using Singlish to give their views is not a good option either. Singlish is now associated with humour and being uncouth, thanks to the way Singlish speakers are portrayed in popular media including works produced by the Singlitterati. If subaltern members attempt to represent themselves using Singlish, they won't be taken seriously.

Subaltern members also can't first learn "standard" English beforehand and then go on to represent the subaltern in the debate, because the very act of learning "standard" English would render them no longer members of the subaltern and no longer representative of the subaltern's point of view.

For example, the government claims that people with both "standard" English and Singlish in their repertoires who choose to code-switch into Singlish are being irresponsible towards their fellow Singaporeans who can only speak Singlish, because these Singlish-only speakers won't be able to learn "standard" English and will be economically disadvantaged because they won't be able to do high-paying jobs.

If a subaltern member goes out and learns "standard" English, it will only serve to validate the government's claim that Singlish was previously holding that person back from learning "standard" English. The only type of subaltern member that could possibly falsify the government's claim that Singlish leads to low socioeconomic performance is someone who is rich and speaks nothing but Singlish. Happily enough, there are such people around. Some famous hawkers earn plenty of money from the roaring business they do each day, and they don't even need "good" English, or any English at all if they transact entirely in other languages. But these people are few and far between. The typical subaltern member stays true to the image of the subaltern: someone who can speak only Singlish and is from a humble background.

Unfortunately, there's no way to effectively deal with the subaltern. We just have to keep it in mind in future as the debate rages on, constantly subjecting the various points raised to careful scrutiny to see if they are missing the point of view of these "voiceless people".

The next chapter deals with the commodification of Singlish: how it has been turned from something with seemingly no value to something valuable in more ways than one.

The Singlish Controversy by Professor Lionel Wee: Chapter 3

This chapter is fun for casual readers because it has more stories.

In the first part of the chapter, Professor Wee shows the relationship the Singapore government has with academic experts.

It's fair to call it a relationship based on convenience.

Lee Kwan Yew was Singapore's first Prime Minister and many credit him for being the architect of Singapore's rapid development into a first-world economy. As such, his views are highly respected and taken very seriously.

Shortly after coming to power in the 1960s, Mr Lee realised that "the Chinese, Indians, Ceylonese and Eurasians progress at a faster rate" and there was a risk that the Malay community would be left behind. He worried that if he didn't do anything to correct the problem, he would "have a Harlem", in the sense that the Malays would become a marginalised community which would fall into bad habits such as rampant drug abuse and gang violence.

What did he do? He was aware that as a politician, he couldn't possibly have all the answers, so he read up extensively on sociology and anthropology to try to find a solution. Stumbling upon the works of Judith Djamour and Bryan Parkinson, who pointed out the cultural differences between the Malay and Chinese communities, it dawned upon Mr Lee that he had to ensure that the various ethnicities in Singapore had ample opportunities to interact with one another. This was the way to prevent the formation of racial enclaves.

This is the behind-the-scenes story of how some Singapore schemes that have to do with racial harmony came to be. Perhaps the most famous example is the ethnic integration policy in public housing. In every block of flats, there cannot be too many residents from any particular ethnic group, as there are strict quotas enforced by the Housing and Development Board (HDB). This prevents people from one ethnic group from predominating in an area.

Another example is the use of English as an official language and a compulsory first language in schools. Being neutral, it was not the native language of any of the ethnic groups, so it served as a bridge to bring them all together. Using English, people from different ethnic groups can communicate with one another. This allows them to interact and gain mutual understanding and respect for one another's culture.

In this case, Mr Lee was happy to use the expertise of academics. His English language policy was a result of this. But in other cases, he has notoriously shot down the advice given to him by academics, due to his stubborn streak and refusal to believe anyone other than himself.

For example, a linguist from the Nanyang Technological University (NTU) in 2009 called for the government to relax a ban on Chinese dialects that had been introduced many years prior. The reason for the ban was because Mr Lee wanted Chinese Singaporeans to be fluent in Mandarin and not dialects, so that they could communicate with the Mandarin-speaking mainland Chinese and reap the economic rewards from a rapidly booming China market.

Mr Lee was not amused by the linguist's suggestion. He felt that if people spoke dialects, they will have less time to speak Mandarin, and their Mandarin proficiency will suffer. So he directed his secretary to write this response: "Using one language more frequently means less time for other languages. Hence, the more languages a person learns, the greater the difficulties of retaining them at a high level of fluency... It would be stupid for any Singapore agency or NTU to advocate the learning of dialects, which must be at the expense of English and Mandarin." In his memoirs, he said he "thought it was a daft call" for the linguist to make.

He was less resistant to expert advice when the expert doing the advising was his daughter, though. Dr Lee Wei Ling is a neurologist. One day, she revealed to her father that it is not possible for a human brain to be equally good at two languages. Previously, he had thought that it was possible for a human brain to learn two languages at the same level, but not more, which was why he banned dialects for fear that people's brains will be overcrowded. He even went as far as to tell a group of parents at an event in 1978: "But let me reassure all parents: your child has a brain bigger than the biggest computer man has ever built. Whilst the world’s biggest computer cannot handle two languages, most human beings can, especially if they are taught when young... the fact is that your child has a brain which can use two languages, whilst the computer as yet cannot."

But in later years, he went on record to admit his mistake, saying in 2004: "But now I believe it’s only possible for the exceptionally able and the very determined... If you spend half-and-half of your capacity on two languages, it’s likely you won’t master either."

In 2009, he credited his daughter with enlightening him: "Nobody can master two languages at the same level. If (you think) you can, you’re deceiving yourself. My daughter is a neurologist, and late in my life she told me language ability and intelligence are two different things."

Coming back to Singlish, let's include a story by Goh Chok Tong, Mr Lee's successor as Prime Minister. The Speak Good English Movement (SGEM) was started during his reign.

Explaining the need for SGEM, Mr Goh told of a golfing trip he had taken to Zimbabwe some years earlier. His native caddy, according to him, spoke "excellent English". When his strokes were going off target, the caddy asked: "Would you permit me to test your putter?" In Singapore, Mr Goh quipped, a caddy would have said: "Can try your putter or not?" After the game, the Zimbabwean caddy asked: "Would you have some used balls to spare me?" Mr Goh was so impressed with the caddy's English that he gave the caddy many balls, including some brand-new ones. According to Mr Goh, a Singaporean caddy making the same request would have produced a less impressive version of the question and said: "Got old balls give me can or not?"

Mr Goh added that the Zimbabwean caddy had not completed his education and the English he learned was picked up from working with white Zimbabwean golfers.

There's a problem with Mr Goh's justification. He failed to take into account the phenomenon of style-shifting. Most people can speak more than one variety of language. We choose which variety to use in a particular setting based on context. This is known as style-shifting.

For example, the Zimbabwean caddy may have used "excellent English" with Mr Goh, but he probably used a different kind of English when out with friends. It would likely have been some mixture of English and African language influences, and Mr Goh would've found it difficult to comprehend.

Similarly, a Singaporean caddy would be highly unlikely to say "Got old balls give me can or not?" on the job, contrary to Mr Goh's belief, because he would know that that's not an appropriate manner of speech to use on a golf course where the clientele consists of high-class people.

Style-shifting is a sociolinguistic concept and it would require a sociolinguistics expert to point it out to the government. But even though SGEM has consulted with linguists in the past, including Professor Wee, the people running SGEM are not government ministers. They don't make decisions, only execute them. So the people who really need to hear from the experts, namely government ministers who decide that "Singlish is bad", don't get direct input from these experts. On their part, the experts have no open channel through which to explain concepts like style-shifting to the ministers. So they don't get to put their touch on policies, and policies may end up being theoretically unsound.

That's not to say that experts are infallible. A few are bad eggs who may spout nonsense just because they want to be famous. And all are humans who are part of the society they live in. This means they will never truly be neutral or objective. They probably favour one position or another due to personal reasons.

The way to work with and make use of experts is to take their views into serious consideration when making decisions. Don't take their words as gospel, but don't discard them either. And don't only listen to expert opinions that validate your pre-existing notions. That defeats the purpose of bringing in third-party advice.

The second half of the chapter is dedicated to the concept of linguistic chutzpah.

Linguistic chutzpah

Chutzpah means "supreme self-confidence, nerve, gall, audacity or even insolence", according to Professor Wee. He explains that applied to language, linguistic chutzpah means being confident in the way we use language and being able to explain why we use language the way we do.

For example, Singaporean radio announcers tend to adopt American accents on air. If they have linguistic chutzpah, they will be able to tell us why they adopt American accents on air.

Linguistic chutzpah is an important concept in the context of English use in Singapore because there seems to be a lot of anxiety among Singaporeans as to what constitutes "acceptable" English. This shows that linguistic chutzpah is lacking in Singapore.

Two stories illustrate this.

The first revolves around the Singapore town of Woodleigh. A new train station was about to be opened in the town when the Land Transport Authority (LTA) suddenly became insecure about the way "Woodleigh" should be pronounced: "wood-lay" or "wood-lee". It needed to choose the "correct" one because a minister was going to officially open the station and was going to have to refer to the name.

LTA wanted Professor Wee to tell them which of the two pronunciations was the right one. He didn't. He said it should be up to the residents in the area to decide, maybe through a survey.

The second incident is quite similar. The state broadcaster Mediacorp had a television show called We Are Singaporeans in which contestants were quizzed on their knowledge of all things related to Singapore. After a contestant had given their answer to a question, the host would ask them to "double confirm" their answer, which would lock the answer in. Mediacorp fretted that "double confirm" was a Singlish expression and asked Professor Wee if it was acceptable in "standard" English.

Professor Wee pointed out that in the Singapore context, "double confirm" is totally acceptable and given that the show was about Singapore and Singapore culture, there's no reason why it should be deemed inappropriate. But in the end, Mediacorp decided to change "double confirm" to "confirm confirm", which isn't actually any better.

In both cases, the organisations that asked for Professor Wee's input demonstrated great anxiety about matters pertaining to English, suggesting that they lacked linguistic chutzpah. They could have shown linguistic chutzpah if, after making their respective decisions and irrespective of what these decisions were, they had come out publicly to explain why they had done what they did. For example, Mediacorp could have issued a statement with the announcement that they would use "confirm confirm" instead of "double confirm" and the rationale behind the move. Whatever the decision, some people would have complained anyway, but at least Mediacorp would have had the opportunity to explain itself rather than remaining silent.

We shall round up this chapter with a look at the "evil twin" to SGEM, the Speak Good Singlish Movement (SGSM).

Speak Good Singlish Movement

SGSM appeared in 2010 just after SGEM underwent a rejuvenation and revival. It directly opposes SGEM, actively promoting the use of Singlish by giving tips on how to speak it, and debunking claims made by the government and SGEM about why Singlish is bad.

The people behind SGSM are anonymous, but it's likely that they are highly educated, with knowledge of linguistic, literary, and cultural matters.

SGSM has adopted a rather combative tone. For example, when SGEM started encouraging people to paste stickers with the "correct" versions of everyday expressions on signs in public places that contained Singlish, the banner of SGSM's Facebook page showed a sticker with "It's not proper English" cancelled out and "Go and die lah!" written over it. "Go and die lah!" is a strong Singlish expression that is roughly equivalent to "Get lost!" or "Go away!"

This combativeness is a demonstration of linguistic chutzpah on the part of SGSM's founders. They are supremely confident in their pro-Singlish position. But notably, this confidence is backed up by an ability to articulate arguments against the government's anti-Singlish rhetoric. Let's now take a look at how SGSM counters the government's claims against Singlish.

First, the government claims that if Singaporeans use Singlish outside the school setting, they will be confused about what is "good" and "bad" English even if they are taught "standard" English in school. This is known as the interference argument: when a person learns more than one language at the same time, there is a danger of the languages mixing together in the person's mind, leading to the person becoming confused and speaking "bad" versions of the languages. In the case of Singlish and "standard" English, Singlish features might seep into and contaminate Singaporeans' knowledge of "standard" English, resulting in them speaking "bad" English.

But SGSM points out that the government's use of the interference argument runs contrary to the bilingual education policy in which Singapore students must learn English and a mother tongue. If the government truly believes the interference argument, they should be concerned that it would apply to English and mother tongue languages too. In other words, assuming the interference argument holds true, the government should not enact the bilingual education policy because it will result in Singaporeans speaking "bad" English and "bad" mother tongues.

Empirically, the interference argument has been falsified by multiple studies.

Second, the government tends to use the term "Singlish" to refer to "bad" English, but SGSM insists there's a difference between "bad" English and Singlish. It says the government can't distinguish the two because there are "no individuals with language expertise" such as linguists, writers, novelists, or poets in the government. It adds that because of this, the government is unable to recognise the merits of Singlish such as its value as a marker of Singaporean culture and identity, and has decided to bulldoze ahead with efforts to eradicate the local variety. But grassroots support for Singlish remains strong and these efforts are doomed to fail.

Third, the government warns that Singlish may ghettoise those who speak it. This means that Singlish speakers may be regarded by outsiders as low-class, poorly educated, unintelligent, and uncouth. Anecdotal evidence suggests otherwise, however. The film Singapore Dreaming was banned from local airwaves due to excessive use of Singlish but won awards at international film festivals, suggesting that outsiders know how to appreciate Singlish. SGSM observes that Singlish "is spoken by professionals and other successful individuals, who are capable of switching between Singlish and standard English, as and when the situation demands it, or to frame particular interactions as humorous".

In this chapter, we have seen that many people are involved in the Singlish debate, from linguistics experts to authority figures, people working in the media industry, and even laypersons with the passion to start a movement for the cause they believe in.

The next chapter continues the discussion with an examination of the topic of voice. We will see who exactly are the people talking about Singlish, and whether or not there are people whose perspectives and interests are not being represented in the debate.

The Singlish Controversy by Professor Lionel Wee: Chapter 2

This chapter explains the phenomenon of ideology pooling and relates it to the context of the debate over Singlish.

Ideology... what??

Let's think of the simplest kind of debate. There is an issue being discussed, and two opposing camps. It seems odd to say that the two camps actually agree on certain things during a debate. After all, what makes a debate a debate is that there is disagreement over the issue. But in most public debates, there is a set of assumptions that both sides share, and these assumptions usually go unquestioned and are taken for granted as obvious truth. That's the idea of ideology pooling.

For example, when Halimah Yacob became President of Singapore after an uncontested election which had been reserved for Malay candidates, there was much public debate over her right to be called a Malay given that her father is Indian while her mother is Malay. Detractors pointed out that she is not "pure" Malay so she should not have been allowed to run in the election, while others who defended her insisted that she is "Malay enough". The debate was framed as revolving around the "dividing lines" between the Chinese, Malay, Indian, and Others (CMIO) racial categories: in the case of someone with mixed parentage, which category does this person fall into?

In Singapore, citizens are slotted into one of these four categories. It has been this way for as long as anyone can remember. So Singaporeans take it for granted that race can only be defined by the CMIO model. But race is practised differently elsewhere. Countries in the West are experimenting with elective race, in which people can self-identify as belonging to a particular race. The CMIO model is not the be-all and end-all of race. But it is seen in that way by Singaporeans discussing race, regardless of their stand on the particular issue being discussed. This sets boundaries on the course of debates. If Singaporeans accounted for the possibility of elective race, for example, the debate over the legitimacy of Halimah's presidential bid will look very different from what it is today.

Ideology pooling is not a bad or good thing. It's just something we need to keep in mind when debating issues. We need to ask ourselves: Are there any truths we are holding to be self-evident? If so, are these "truths" really true?

In the case of the Singlish controversy, some of the "truths" are based on faulty logic or false "facts". They also prevent the debate from progressing. Indeed, the points for and against Singlish that are brought up today are the same ones that were brought up when the debate first erupted twenty-odd years ago.

Now, we will look at these shared assumptions one-by-one.

Assumption 1: It's possible to use only Singlish for entire interactions

Can you hold an entire conversation, let's say chatting with your friend for fifteen minutes, using only Singlish? Meaning, you must not switch into "standard" English a single time.

Both pro- and anti-Singlish camps seem to think it's possible to do something like that. The government, through its anti-Singlish messages, has painted the picture of a speaker who speaks Singlish and nothing else, because he is incapable of switching into "standard" English. According to the government, there are such people in Singapore. They use this as a justification to criticise the more well-educated Singaporeans who still use Singlish occasionally despite being able to use "standard" English. By creating an environment in which Singlish is present and accepted, these better-off speakers are hurting their Singlish-only counterparts because these Singlish-only speakers will not have a chance to learn and practise "standard/good" English. They will be cursed with being only able to speak Singlish forever, and won't be able to reap the economic benefits that come with a command of "proper" English, such as higher-paid jobs.

Defenders of Singlish don't question the existence of speakers who only can speak Singlish. Instead, they say that the pro-Singlish movement is morally superior because they are encouraging these Singlish-only speakers to speak up despite not using "proper" English, unlike the government which is putting these people down. Another common argument this camp uses is that Singaporeans know when to use Singlish and when not to. They would probably use Singlish when in the company of only fellow Singaporeans, and "standard" English when foreigners are present. Note that for this argument to hold water, there has to be a clearly defined dividing line between Singlish and "standard" English, so that speakers can switch from one to the other. It's as if Singlish and "standard" English are totally different languages.

When languages are distinct, they are easier to differentiate. But Singlish and "standard" English are not distinct. This is because Singlish is not fully developed as a language of its own. Its grammar is not different enough from English, so it can be very hard to tell if certain utterances are made in Singlish or English. On a larger scale, it is almost impossible to imagine a scenario where Singlish is used as the sole language in an interaction. At some point, it is likely that a sentence or two will appear to follow the grammatical rules of English. For example, the sentence "I will be there" is grammatical in English and has no alternative in Singlish, so a Singlish speaker will also say "I will be there" in the appropriate context and when he does so, he can be said to be speaking "standard" English. So it's not true that Singlish can be used as the only language for an entire interaction.

One more example: the government body in charge of regulating the media in Singapore forbids the use of Chinese dialects and Singlish on local television. The former has been easy to enforce, because Chinese dialects like Hokkien, Cantonese, and Teochew are fully developed languages and it is easy to recognise them. When the television operator buys shows from Hong Kong, Taiwan, or elsewhere which use these dialects, it simply dubs over them with Mandarin, an approved language. Sometimes the television news will interview people who use these dialects, and their responses will be similarly dubbed. But the latter rule has proven to be a slippery one to enforce. There's no such thing as a movie or show made entirely in Singlish. Rather, there are English shows and movies that contain Singlish utterances here and there. And even then, it's hard to pin down what exactly is a Singlish utterance that requires dubbing into "proper" English. If a character says "You love Suzy, meh?", is dubbing really called for given that "You love Suzy?" is the grammatical equivalent in English and the only thing that makes the first utterance Singlish is the inclusion of "meh"?

Assumption 2: Singlish = bad English

Singlish and "standard" English tend to be mentioned in the same breath, which only serves to highlight the contrast between them. English that is "correct" is "standard" English, and anything that is not "standard" English is automatically "wrong". Singlish is not "standard" English, so it is wrong.

Obviously, the government gleefully exploits this to attack Singlish. Equating Singlish with "improper" English, then-Prime Minister Goh Chok Tong in 1999 lamented that the popular television character Phua Chu Kang's use of Singlish was affecting schoolchildren's ability to learn "proper" English because it was fashionable to throw around Singlish catchphrases like "Don't pray pray" ("pray" is the Singaporean pronunciation of "play"; the phrase means something along the lines of "don't take this lightly") from the show rather than express themselves in "standard" English.

In defence, vocal Singlish supporter Colin Goh wrote that having children who don't speak "standard" English is a global occurrence and Singlish has nothing to do with it. He added that he had nothing against learning "standard" English because he agreed that "mastering the rules of grammar is both empowering and enjoyable". By saying these things, he is accepting that Singlish is not "good" English and has no rules of grammar that need to be mastered.

Linguistically speaking, it's difficult to parse out what are features of Singlish and what is simply "broken" English. But the very act of contrasting the two is a deliberate ploy. The anti-Singlish camp uses it as an offensive weapon, arguing that Singlish is a poison that destroys "good" English in Singapore so it must be wiped out before it does irreparable harm. The pro-Singlish camp uses it more like a badge of honour, as it unites Singaporeans from all walks of life. Educated Singaporeans are proud to deliberately use Singlish as it signals that they stand together with their less-educated counterparts. Both sides find it useful to return to this assumption again and again, which is why it persists.

Assumption 3: The Singlish issue is significant to the nation as a whole

The Singapore government is somewhat (in)famous for its "crisis mentality", in which it inflates the issues it deems important so much that it reaches a fever pitch in the national agenda. They don't do this because they are panicky people. They do it on purpose to frighten the population into doing what the government tells them to do. One of the ministers once said: "And one of the things we can do to get a little further down the road a little faster is to raise the specter of total disaster as the alternative... Within this context, sooner or later they [the citizens] will change."

Singlish is a victim of this tactic. As explained before, the government has portrayed Singlish as a threat to Singaporeans' ability to speak "standard" English. The government goes on to paint a startling picture: if Singaporeans can't speak "standard" English, they won't be understood by the rest of the world. The rest of the world won't do business with Singapore, and Singapore will become a poor country. In this way, the Singlish issue gets elevated to the level of national importance, as it concerns the economic well-being of the country.

Singlish supporters also see Singlish as a matter of national importance, but in a different sense. They portray Singlish as an important marker of the "Singaporean identity", warning that erasing it would damage Singapore's cultural heritage. Pointing out that Singlish grew from the mixing of port labourers from many countries in Singapore's early days, pro-Singlish commentators say that Singlish's unglamourous nature is to be embraced because it represents who Singaporeans truly are: people descended from these migrant workers whose lives really were difficult and dirty. This is something "standard" English can never do, because it has no link to the early migrants.

These three shared assumptions appear many times in claims made by both sides over the years. Let's now look at two claims in which we can see these assumptions being used.

Claim 1: Singlish has no value

One of the goals of the Speak Good English Movement (SGEM), especially in the first few years of its existence, was to stamp out Singlish. This was because the government worried that Singlish would affect Singaporeans' ability to speak "standard" English per Assumption 2, which would in turn spell the economic downfall of the country per Assumption 3. As Goh Chok Tong put it, Singlish is something "the rest of the world will find quaint but incomprehensible".

But despite its best efforts, SGEM has not managed to get rid of Singlish. Realising that it had set for itself an impossible task, SGEM now adopts a softer stance on Singlish. In recent publications teaching people "good" English, it refrains from mentioning Singlish at all. This is in stark contrast to what it used to produce. A 2003 lesson by SGEM featuring a British expatriate named Jane includes the line: "First impressions are very important. In her first few hours in Singapore, Jane has heard mostly Singlish, and she’s clearly not impressed..."

As a whole, the government flips between being strongly anti-Singlish and reluctantly accepting of it depending on circumstances. The Singapore Tourism Board (STB) touts Singlish in its promotional materials for tourists, calling it Singapore's "own brand of English" as "fondly referred to" by Singaporeans. See how this violates the assumption that Singlish and English are two different things, per Assumption 1. STB goes on to say: "With our multi-racial background, it’s not surprising that ‘Singlish’ borrows from the many different languages spoken in Singapore." It is this very same multi-racial background that supporters of Singlish argue Singlish represents, per Assumption 3. It suits STB's agenda to be positive towards Singlish and use it as a selling point in attracting visitors, so Singlish does indeed have value, even in the ever-pragmatic economic sense of raking in tourism dollars. We will encounter this concept again in Chapter 5, which discusses how Singlish is like a commodity.

Singlish having no value is the government's justification for using SGEM to try to destroy Singlish, but this is a problematic claim that even the government itself through STB seems not fully committed to.

Claim 2: Singlish is not elitist

Singlish supporters like Singlish because its unglamourous nature supposedly represents Singapore's heritage as the descendants of humble port labourers, per Assumption 3. They portray Singlish as the everyman's language that all Singaporeans use, whether they are rich or poor, educated or not.

But this is not borne out by how Singlish is actually used, especially by the supporters themselves. Singlish is often used in a purposeful and playful manner by people with an excellent command of language, and its features are usually exaggerated for dramatic or comedic effect. Take for example this sentence: "It’s si beh condemn that as Chinese peepur, our standard of Chinese am not as powderful as our Engrand." (It's very bad that even though we are Chinese, our standard of Chinese is not as good as our standard of English.) This sentence is quite distorted even if we apply Singlish norms. The phrase "si beh" is used to intensify adjectives, such as "si beh siong" meaning "extremely stressful", but here it is used to intensify the verb "condemn". The words "powderful" and "Engrand" replace "powerful" and "English" respectively in what is meant to be caricatures of Singaporean pronunciation, but it's highly doubtful that real Singaporeans speak that way. The only instance of accurate representation of Singaporean speech is the spelling of "people" as "peepur", because documented research evidence does show that Singaporeans routinely drop the ending consonant sounds in words. Also notable is that per Assumption 1, not the entire sentence is "ungrammatical" English: pronunciation aside, the tract "that as Chinese peepur, our standard of Chinese" conforms to the rules of "standard" English.

A related observation is that many of the strongest advocates for Singlish are highly educated, often in the artistic, cultural, and literary fields. The aforementioned Colin Goh has a Master's degree in law. They are coming from the perspective of elites, so there is a problem when they try to make the claim that Singlish is not elitist because their views do not represent the views of the non-elite in society, such as those who, due to lack of educational opportunities, don't have a good enough grasp of language to use Singlish in the same playful way that the elites do.

We will see this idea again in Chapter 4, when we will take a closer look at who the parties are in the Singlish debate.

For now, let's end off with an amusing, if mildly disturbing, anecdote of how language experts, including linguists like Professor Wee, tend to be treated with dismissal and disdain when they try to give their inputs to public debates about language.

A linguist was on a panel of experts at a public forum. Someone asked her if the standard of English in Singapore was declining. She replied that it's not a simple question to answer, because tracking the standard of a particular language over time is tricky. The ways in which people use language are ever-changing, so what may have been unacceptable use of a particular language years ago may now be acceptable and vice versa, making it difficult to develop a fair test of language standards that can account for such generational variations.

This is a textbook response to a deceptively simple question. Unfortunately, the audience wasn't looking for textbook responses. They wanted an expert opinion that validated the conclusion that they had already arrived at on their own: that English standards in Singapore were indeed slipping. The linguist's answer didn't satisfy them and an elderly man stood up to let her know this in no uncertain terms.

"When I speak, even the university’s president has to listen to me!" he began, to impress upon her what an influencer he was and how much weight his view carried with the powers-that-be. Then he berated her for not reaching the same judgement as the audience.

Sadly, this reflects the role that language experts are confined to in public discussions about language. One side seeks input from a language expert, and the expert's views which align with that side's agenda are used to prop up that side's argument by lending it an air of credibility. At the same time, the expert's views which don't align with that side's agenda are discarded. Worse, if the expert disagrees entirely with that side, the expert risks being denigrated, possibly in humiliating fashion.

In the next chapter, we return to this topic of language experts.

The Singlish Controversy by Professor Lionel Wee: Chapter 1

The chapter provides the background of Singapore's language policy.

When Singapore gained independence, the founding leaders of the country decided to adopt a policy of bilingualism. This meant that the education system would equip pupils with knowledge of two languages: English and a mother tongue. The policy persists today and is a cornerstone of the education system in Singapore.

The rationale behind the teaching of English to all pupils is that English is the international language of business. Singapore does not have natural resources or vast amounts of land, so the only way for it to do well economically is by harnessing its human resources to perform high-value jobs, which would then attract multinational corporations to set up shop in the city, bringing in foreign investment. For this to happen, its labour force must be conversant in English so as to be able to communicate with colleagues and bosses from around the world.

But the founding leaders worried that if only English was taught, the population might become Westernised. They did not want that, because it did not align with their values at that time. They wanted Singapore to be rooted in the fact that it is an Asian city. So they made it compulsory for pupils to learn a mother tongue language alongside English. Through this mother tongue, the idea was that pupils would be reminded of the culture that they come from.

Pupils are assigned their mother tongue language based on their ethnic group. The three major ethnic groups in Singapore are the Chinese, Malays, and Indians, and each has a corresponding official mother tongue: Mandarin for the Chinese, Malay for the Malays, and Tamil for the Indians. Eurasians have no mother tongue assigned to them because of their mixed heritage, and they are allowed to choose which mother tongue language they want to take up for the purposes of formal schooling. Many choose Mandarin because they hope to tap into the growing economic power of China, or Malay because it is easier to learn as it uses the same alphabet as English.

The three official mother tongues are also official languages of Singapore, and English is the fourth official language though it is not an official mother tongue. This is deliberate. By keeping English neutral, it can be used to bring the different ethnic groups together without one community having an unfair advantage over the others. This is significant because one of the key reasons why Singapore split from Malaysia to become independent was because the Malaysian government adopts a "Malays first" policy which the Singapore government of the day disagreed with. Under the Malaysian government's approach, Malay is given a higher status than other languages, and policies are crafted to prioritise the interests of the Malay community. In contrast, no ethnic group is prioritised by the Singapore government.

Trends in language use

An increasing number of families are using English rather than their mother tongue at home. The Singapore population is now largely conversant in English, but standards of the three official mother tongue languages are slipping. This is because people have taken the government's message to heart and regard English competence as more important to their future success in life, leading them to put more effort into learning it and practising it as often as they can with family and friends. In this way, using English in everyday life has become a habit for many Singaporeans.

The government has had to admit that the bilingualism policy is not producing people who are competent in both English and their mother tongue. They even had to create a lower-level 'B' syllabus to cater to the growing number of pupils who could not cope with the regular mother tongue syllabus. There is, on the other hand, also a 'Higher' syllabus for elite pupils who demonstrate native-speaker mastery of their mother tongue.

Given the rising prominence of English and the population's preference for English over the mother tongues, the government's insistence on keeping English at arm's length is odd. The government seems to regard English as something that must be exploited purely for pragmatic reasons, namely the economic benefits that it unlocks. They do not want to view English as part of Singapore's heritage, because to do so risks Westernising Singapore, and they will have none of that because Singapore is, according to them, Asian.

Ironically, the same government has, in modern times, taken pains to portray Singapore as a cosmopolitan, globalised city, as this makes the state more attractive to foreign investment. Immigrants are welcomed with open arms, and this has thrown the ethnic composition of Singapore's population into flux. In turn, the status of the mother tongue languages has been diminished further, and English has gained even more importance as it is the only language that connects an increasingly diverse group of people crammed into a small island. For these reasons, the government may eventually be forced to rethink the way it sees English. English may no longer be just a practical skill, but a vital aspect of the societal fabric.

English education in Singapore: What is "good" English?

When Singapore was under British rule, the colonial government gave the Peranakans and Eurasians intensive instruction in English to create an elite class of English-educated workers. The Peranakan and Eurasian communities became wealthier than the other ethnic groups because they held better jobs for which a command of English was essential. Seeing this, the other ethnic groups strived to learn English too, so as to move up the socioeconomic ladder.

Even after independence in 1965, the teaching of English focused on getting pupils to emulate British English. You were good at English if you could accurately reproduce the way a British person would speak and write. For example, you had to pronounce words using the Received Pronunciation accent, which announcers on the British Broadcasting Corporation use even today.

In the 1990s, younger and more progressive teachers and principals spurred greater acceptance of local lingo in schools. The Ministry of Education (MOE) began including texts by local authors and playwrights in the curriculum. These texts contained Singlish expressions. But they were confined to the teaching of drama and literature and were not used in English language classes, showing that MOE was far from accepting Singlish as a "legitimate" type of English.

At the turn of the millennium, the government swung back to a flat rejection of Singlish, unleashing the Speak Good English Movement (SGEM) which aimed to eradicate the local variety of English entirely in favour of "standard" English. Until today, "standard/good" English is defined by looking outside of Singapore. The only difference is that now, American English and not British English is increasingly used as the example of what is "ideal" due to America's status as a superpower.

The government justified its disgust towards Singlish by explaining that it was a contaminant that, if allowed to flourish, would cause Singaporeans to be unable to speak "proper" English, which would in turn result in Singapore losing its economic competitiveness.

We cannot be a first-world economy or go global with Singlish... The fact that we use English gives us a big advantage over our competitors. If we carry on using Singlish, the logical final outcome is that we, too, will develop our own type of pidgin English, spoken only by three million Singaporeans, which the rest of the world will find quaint but incomprehensible. We are already halfway there. Do we want to go all the way?

~ then-Prime Minister Goh Chok Tong at the 1999 National Day Rally

The government also does not accept Singlish as being part of Singapore culture.

In 2016, a major disturbance arose when the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), which is a highly respected resource for determining what is "standard" English and what is not, added over 500 Singaporean terms including "angmoh", "sotong", and "shiok" into the official dictionary. Given that the stance of the Singapore government is that the West has the final say on what constitutes "good" English, this tacit acknowledgement and approval of Singlish by OED ruffled some feathers and stirred up considerable anxiety about the future role of Singlish. Seeking an expert opinion from Professor Wee, a reporter asked if there will come a time when Singlish is made an official language of Singapore. (For the record, Professor Wee declined the interview.)

The debate

Ordinary Singaporeans disagree on Singlish. Some are on the same page as the government, denouncing Singlish for not being "proper". Others support it, usually on the grounds that it forms part of the Singaporean identity that they are proud of. But even these supporters of Singlish usually admit that it would not be appropriate to use the local variety in certain settings such as the workplace, reserving it for informal environments such as family gatherings instead.

From the government's perspective, it is insufficient to teach pupils "good" English in school, because if Singlish persists on the street, the pupils will lapse back into it once they leave the classroom. In 2012, founding Prime Minister Lee Kwan Yew recounted an observation he made on a trip to Jamaica that convinced him of this:

I was in Jamaica in 1975. Most Jamaicans are descended from West Africans brought to the Caribbean as slaves. They learned, first Spanish, then English from their slave masters. Yet, apart from those at the top of their society, they spoke not English, but Jamaican Creole, which I could not understand. It hit me like a sledgehammer: despite learning English in school, they were back to pidgin Creole once out of school.

Singlish is the local equivalent of Creole, so the government thinks that it is necessary to eliminate Singlish altogether to prevent a repeat of what was happening in Jamaica.

Things boiled over thanks to Phua Chu Kang, a very popular sitcom character who spoke Singlish. He struck a chord among Singaporeans with his down-to-earth nature, especially when contrasted against his on-screen sister Margaret who spoke "standard" English and was snobbish. Local television viewers appreciated Phua's use of Singlish because before he came along, they had had to contend with locally produced shows in which the characters spoke with an outlandish American accent. But the government fretted that the portrayal of Singlish in mainstream media would end up making Singlish seem more legitimate, encouraging people to use it even more.

Then-Prime Minister Goh suggested that Phua should be sent for English lessons, and the television operator, which is owned by the government, duly obliged, toning down Phua's use of Singlish. A flurry of letters and articles appeared in the press, discussing the advantages and disadvantages of Singlish. The government launched SGEM during this period in the official response to the debate: it clearly signalled that Singlish would not be tolerated by the authorities.

MOE revamped the English syllabus to reinforce the teaching of grammar. Schools began issuing fines to pupils who were caught using Singlish.

Although it has since softened its anti-Singlish rhetoric, SGEM in its early days was so fervent in its opposition of the local variety that it engaged in what could be counted as discriminatory or stereotyping behaviour. In a 2001 publication, it claimed that the "use of Singlish can be a problem because it gives the impression that the speaker is unprofessional or poorly educated". In one of its lessons on "good" English, it uses two fictional characters in its examples. Simon, who speaks "good" English, comes across as having a "steady and mature" personality, is rich, and has his own car. Gary speaks only Singlish and he is poor, childish, and irresponsible, asking to borrow Simon's car despite being uninsured. Reflecting on the lesson, a Singaporean who had knowledge of the matter wrote:

Texts that reflect prejudices stigmatize less able speakers as not only linguistically deficient, but also culturally and intellectually deficient. Using such a strategy to compel people to learn a language is, quite simply, hitting below the belt.

Supporters of Singlish are fighting back against efforts to wipe out the local variety. Singlish dictionaries are being written and updated actively, YouTube videos are being produced to teach people how to speak Singlish, and there is even a Speak Good Singlish Movement (SGSM) which directly opposes SGEM.

The Singlish Controversy by Professor Lionel Wee: Introduction

You know what is Singlish, right? If you're Singaporean or lived here long, long time, I'm sure you do lah.

Singlish is the unique type of English that's used in Singapore. The sentences above are in Singlish, so they might look and sound a little odd if you're not exposed to a lot of it.

Crucially, though, the sentences are comprehensible, even to someone who's never encountered Singlish before. They may need a little more time to figure out what the sentences are trying to say, but they will be able to get the gist of the meaning after a while since the words used are English words.

The Speak Good English Movement (SGEM) is a government-supported organisation that campaigns for the use of "standard" English in Singapore. One of the key arguments it uses to promote its aims is that if we Singaporeans use Singlish, foreigners will not be able to understand us, and we won't be competitive on the world stage, for instance in getting jobs overseas or attracting foreign investment to our shores.

Indeed, SGEM has recently been placing large advertisements in the only printed English daily broadsheet newspaper in Singapore, The Straits Times, such as the following:

Seen in The Straits Times page C1 on 19 June 2019.

The implicit message behind this advertisement is that a speaker of "good/standard" English will be understood equally well in the Singapore town of Lakeside and the British city of London, whereas a speaker of "bad/broken/nonstandard" English may not.

And although this particular advertisement doesn't explicitly say so, Singlish is viewed as "nonstandard" English by SGEM. It has made many attempts in the past to stamp out the use of Singlish.

The underlying assumption, then, is that Singlish is "less useful" than "standard" English because it's not widely understood around the world. So it is of great importance that Singaporeans be versed in "standard" English because it is beneficial for them. For example, they will be able to go to London and look for a job without being hindered by communication difficulties caused by language barriers. Those who fail to master "standard" English and rely only on Singlish will lose out.

What happens if Londoners come to Singapore? Well, SGEM worries that, if we don't practise our "good" English enough, we won't be able to use it properly to communicate with the Londoners. The Londoners will have a hard time, and they will leave Singapore with a bad impression. Most horrifyingly (to the ever-pragmatic government, at least), they will take their money elsewhere. In this way, Singlish is construed as a threat to the economic wellbeing of the state.

But we must critically ask: Is it necessarily true that Singapore and Singaporeans will suffer, economically or otherwise, because of Singlish use? Are there any faults in logic behind such thinking? Is such reasoning based on unsound beliefs of how language works?

The book

In his 2018 book The Singlish Controversy, Professor Lionel Wee from the Department of English Language and Literature (ELL) at the National University of Singapore (NUS) Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences (FASS) deconstructs the debate surrounding the use of Singlish which flares up occasionally in the national media.

Source: Website of NUS FASS ELL.

On one side, the government, SGEM, and opponents of Singlish want to put an end to Singlish while on the other, proponents of Singlish point out its merits and want it to remain.

Professor Wee doesn't take sides in his book, although it's clear that he isn't impressed with SGEM or its agenda, instead focusing on breaking down the linguistic factors underpinning the entire issue.

This series

My intention for this series of posts is to make the contents of the book accessible to laypersons.

By this, I don't mean that I'll leak the full text of the book here by copying and pasting chapters of the book onto this blog. That wouldn't help laypersons at all, because the book is written for an academic audience and you must have some knowledge of linguistic concepts in order to understand it.

I'm not a linguistics student, but I have enough linguistics knowledge (thanks in large part to the fantastic Dr Nala Lee and the exceptional Associate Professor Joseph Park whose lessons on sociolinguistics that I attended were comprehensive and effective) to be able to decode Professor Wee's writing and rewrite the key takeaways in a manner that everyone can understand.

And that's precisely what I'm going to do in this series of posts. There are seven chapters in the book, and I will write one post for each chapter. Each post will summarise the corresponding chapter's most important points and explain them in plain English.

Note that I won't be covering every single thing that Professor Wee writes, just the ones that are key to understanding the issue of Singlish. I'll cut out most of the dry, boring parts where Professor Wee expounds at length about linguistic theories or highlights an area where academics are in contention over some ideological construct. This means that occasionally, I might use certain technical terms loosely in a way that will make a true linguist cringe, but if it aids clarity, no harm no foul.

I also won't quote extensively from the book, except for the amusing anecdotes that Professor Wee included which I really like.

Of course, any mistakes are mine alone, and Professor Wee is not responsible. Heck, he doesn't even know this series exists.

Please don't use this series as a reference for research projects. This is not an academically rigorous text. Like I said, I'm not even a real linguistics student. I read and interpreted the book my way, which may or may not be the linguistically sound way. If you're doing a research project, read the book yourself. I will not be liable for you losing any marks.

If you want the book for yourself, perhaps to follow along with reading the original text and my chapter summaries at the same time or as source material for your research project, you can download the e-book from the NUS library database for free using your NUS login details. If you're a member of the general public and don't have access to the NUS library database, drop me a message on Twitter or Reddit and I will try to help you.

"Why are you doing this?" I hear you ask. Simple! To paraphrase Carly Rae Jepsen, I really really really really really really like the book. It's my favourite nonfiction book of all time. And I want more people to be able to enjoy it even if they don't have the prerequisite knowledge to digest it. Additionally, I am interested in the sociolinguistics of English in Singapore, so writing this series is not only fun for me, it also allows me to consolidate my own knowledge about the issue.

Interlude: My "grandmother" story

(In Singapore, the term "grandmother story" is used in a derogatory way to describe a story, often a personal recount, that is longwinded and has no important point. Hopefully this one isn't like that, but you're welcome to skip this section if you want to.)

At this juncture, I find it pertinent to tell a personal story. I used to be a so-called Grammar Nazi, someone who would go out of his way to correct people's language errors. This was probably motivated by my view of myself as an expert in English, as I had consistently won awards for the English language subject from primary through secondary school. In fact, my Primary 5 English teacher (a cheerful Sikh woman who was called Madam Kaur like almost every other Sikh female) would often consult me openly in class when difficult questions arose from the other students. So I, somewhat arrogantly I admit, thought I had a God-given right to police other people's English use.

If the purpose of education is to open one's mind and bring enlightenment, my linguistics classes at NUS certainly educated me. They inspired me to abandon my Grammar Nazi ways. Why? Famous sociolinguist Rosina Lippi-Green put it succinctly: Grammaticality does not equal communicative effectiveness.

In other words, the reason we humans developed language was to transmit information from one person to another. Language exists to enable us to tell one another stuff. When we open our mouths or raise a pen, our goal is to get our message across to someone else. Does it really matter if the language we use isn't "perfect"? If I write "I going zoo", the meaning is quite clear: I am going to the zoo. No need to be pedantic about missing conjunctions and the like.

Besides, who defines what constitutes "good/perfect/standard" language anyway? Take English for example. Very often, we look to the British for answers, because the English invented English after all, right? But there are a few problems with this.

First, the English didn't actually invent English. Nobody did. English is the product of many languages, including French, Germanic, and Latin, mixing together. So the English don't have some special claim to the language over everyone else.

Second, how do you reconcile the fact that increasingly, the world also accepts American English? A common ditty goes "I say toe-may-toe, you say toe-mah-toe", so how is it that both pronunciations of the word "tomato" can be "correct" at the same time? If we're willing to let American English also be "correct" English, then why can't Chinese English or Indian English or Russian English also be "correct" English? The line is hard to see, because it's so arbitrary that it practically doesn't exist.

Third, Lippi-Green also observed that: All spoken language changes over time. In other words, what was considered "wrong" thirty, fifty, or a hundred years ago may now be accepted. For example, Singapore was a British colony until the 1960s, so our early English influence was solely British. During my parents' time in school in the 1960s to the 1980s, "standard" English meant you had to speak in what linguists call Received Pronunciation (RP), which is the kind of English you hear when you tune in to the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) radio station.

But by my schooling years in the 2000s and 2010s, the popularity of American media had caused many young Singaporeans to adopt a somewhat American-tinged accent. The education system no longer expected RP from students during assessments such as oral examinations, accepting alternatives such as what is labelled by linguists as General American (GenAm) or even the Singaporean accent which had had time to develop and mature over the decades, as long as it wasn't too strong.

So I realised that it's unhelpful to get hung up on little "errors" because most of the time, they don't have any negative effects whatsoever on the comprehensibility of the overall message. Being a Grammar Nazi is annoying to everyone: the Nazi gets annoyed at the litany of language errors he encounters every day, while the people who get corrected by the Nazi get annoyed because nobody enjoys being made to feel stupid. So it's better not to be a Grammar Nazi.

These days, I embrace "imperfect" English. And that includes Singlish. Singlish may not be "standard" or "accepted" in Britain or the United States, but what matters is that here in Singapore, it is widely used, it is widely accepted, and so in my eyes, it is the standard English for us.

There is a twist in this tale: My soon-to-be boss is the chairperson of SGEM. Yes, that's the organisation that opposes Singlish. How coincidental it is that he and I should both be so vested in this issue, but with diverging viewpoints.

Right, let's get started on the book...

The Introduction, which isn't a proper chapter but more of a prologue, kicks off the book by observing that Singlish is not a unique phenomenon. When English travels outside of England and comes into contact with other languages, it gets altered. So there's Singlish in Singapore, but also Manglish in Malaysia, Chinglish in China, and Spanglish in Puerto Rico.

Each of these are varieties of English. A variety is a "version" of a language that is used by a particular group of people. Singaporeans, a term which describes a group of people who live in Singapore, use the variety of English called Singlish.

Singlish has been a divisive issue, somewhat like the prickly, smelly durian fruit. You either love durian or hate it; you are either for Singlish or against it. There's hardly any middle ground in the debate.

People who are against Singlish say that its existence damages Singaporeans' ability to learn "standard" English, and having a populace that is unable to use "standard" English will be detrimental to Singapore and Singaporeans in the long run, for reasons I've already explained above.

People who are for Singlish say that we can be conversant in both "standard" English and Singlish, calling on their opponents to have more faith in Singaporeans' ability to determine which variety to use in which situation. For example, we might use "standard" English at a dinner with business partners, and Singlish at a dinner with family. This act of using different varieties at different times is called code-switching.

Having set the stage, the Introduction goes on to, well, introduce the rest of the book by outlining each chapter. I shall not cover this here because otherwise I'll end up repeating myself in subsequent posts.

But there's one more bit of text that I thought was interesting in this section, and it deals with the notion of there being such a thing as Standard Singapore English. I shall use it as a springboard to introduce you to the basics of Singapore English, so that we're all on the same page going forward.

Singapore English

This is not in the book, but first let me recap a bit of history and link it to how Singlish came to be.

Before the arrival of the British, this island was primarily inhabited by Malay villagers. The British came, and brought English with them. When the British opened a big trading port here, lots of Chinese immigrated in, and some Indians too. So there were many languages intermingling: Malay, English, and the numerous dialects of the various Chinese and Indian subgroups.

English was the language used for official communications, of course, so its vocabulary was widespread. But people don't easily forget their native languages, especially the syntax, which is how words and sentences are arranged in a particular language.

This gave rise to a curious phenomenon. People were intending to speak English, and indeed they were using English words, but they were arranging those words in the way they would have if they had been speaking their native language. For example, the sentence "You want what?" consists of English words, but is arranged according to Chinese syntax. The sentence means "What do you want?" and in Chinese it is "ni (you) yao (want) shen-me (what)".

And this is basically the essence of what Singlish is. It is English words, arranged in a special pattern that takes inspiration from a blend of Chinese, Indian, and Malay languages, and sprinkled with borrowed words from those other languages too.

The tricky part is this: Some linguists think that there is such a thing as Standard Singapore English (SSE). They contrast SSE with Colloquial Singapore English (CSE), which is just a fancy name for Singlish.

To them, Singapore English exists on a spectrum. SSE is "high-end English", like what you would use when talking to your boss. CSE is "low-end English", like what you would use at the marketplace. Most of us wouldn't spend much time at either end of this spectrum. We would instead be moving up and down as we encounter different situations in the course of a day.

But, as the book states, SSE "is spoken of with far greater tentativeness than Singlish. Many Singaporeans in fact appear unsure that Standard Singapore English actually exists, even considering such a notion to be chimerical. In contrast, the idea of Singlish has struck a much bigger cultural chord and enjoys a much more robust cultural reality, so much so that supporters of Singlish celebrate its existence even as its detractors consider it a clear and present national danger."

Why do we find it hard to believe in SSE? The book doesn't go on to deal with this question because it, too, seems to think that there's no such thing as SSE and so dismisses the issue out of hand. But I think it could be because we have been brought up by the state's education system to adopt an exonormative approach to language. We grew up learning that correct English is British English or American English. Someone else always has the answer when it comes to "standard" English. Our English here in Singapore isn't "good enough". That's why it's "impossible" for there to be a Standard Singapore English.

Linguistically, it's also very slippery to parse out what features constitute SSE and what features constitute CSE. For example, Singaporeans tend to drop the "t" and "d" sounds at the ends of words. So it's common to hear "heaven" when a Singaporean means "haven't". Is this a feature that's only present in CSE and not SSE? Whichever way the decision goes, the justification behind it will be pretty contrived. The whole exercise smacks of arbitrariness.

Rounding up

Here's what we've learned so far:

• Singlish is English vocabulary arranged in a special pattern inspired by Chinese, Indian, and Malay grammar, with some words from those languages also thrown in.
• Singlish is not unique. Whenever English travels to a place where other languages exist, new varieties of English will form when the other languages mix with English.
• Opponents of Singlish want to eradicate it because they think it hinders Singaporeans' ability to learn "standard" English. This will render them unintelligible to foreigners. Foreigners won't want to hire Singaporean workers or do business in Singapore, and this will have a negative impact on the Singapore economy.
• Proponents of Singlish rebut that Singaporeans can be good at both "standard" English and Singlish, and know when it is appropriate to use which variety.
• Some have proposed that there is a Standard Singapore English, but the idea has not gained acceptance in either the linguistics community or broader Singapore society.