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.