Little Ms Kaypoh

The ministerial pay revisions: what are we really valuing?

2012-01-06T12:38:00.000+08:00

I have hesitated commenting on the ministerial pay cuts but after watching the news and reading the Straits Times (5 Jan 2012), I needed to BLOG.IT.OUT.

‘In principle, we agree’
In the Straits Times article, ‘How benchmark model is picked’ (ST, 5 Jan 2012), it was reported that while the review committee ‘agreed with the principles’ behind the former model of basing ministerial salaries, the model ‘turned out to be complex and difficult for the public to understand’.

Not only does this perspective not challenge the former model and its moral reasoning, its premise is that the previous model was not flawed, just that we (‘the public’) were unable to grasp its ‘complexities’. Public rage at the hefty pay rise for ministers in 2007, pegged to the top earners in the private sector, has therefore been reduced to confusion – a general public too simple-minded to ‘get it’.

Meanwhile, in ‘The million-dollar question on fair pay’ (ST, 5 Jan 2012), the author deems the recent recommendations ‘fair’ but believes ‘opposition parties will continue to milk the issue’. She ends by asking: ‘Will sentiment or reason prevail with the electorate at large’?

In one lazy but effective stroke, she has divided us into two camps: those who think the recommendations are fair, and those who do not. Among the former, it is presumed that reasoned deliberation has resulted in the reasonable conclusion the current outcome is ‘fair’. As for the latter dissenting voices, you are either trying to stoke the flames for your own selfish political gain, or you’re just being sentimental (thinking with the wrong organ again, i.e. not your brain).

This is thoughtless and dishonest characterization. Between the congratulatory backslappers and the ‘I-will-object-to-anything-and-everything-the-government-does’ naysayers lies a continuum of diverse concerns. Here, I add to the medley of voices by sharing mine.

On principle, I disagree
The entrenched perspective that ministerial salaries must remain ‘competitive’ in order to attract ‘top talent’ from the private sector sends a very clear signal who the ruling party views as worthy and desirable to run this country (to prevent it from social chaos and irreparable financial ruin). Persons of ‘good calibre’ are assumed to only subsist in the million(s)-dollar stratosphere, a rarefied and ‘limited talent pool’. Such persons – ‘the best and the brightest’ – must not be deterred from joining politics because of the potential economic hardship they will suffer.

This is unapologetic elitism framed as national necessity.

What does this mean for other (much) lower-paid individuals who have leadership qualities and a desire to serve the community through political service? Is it inconceivable that salaried employees in other respectable – but much less lucrative – professions such as social work, nursing, teaching etc. etc. could be interested in running for office and capable of doing a commendable job? Though perhaps it is really not about who is interested and capable of serving constituents, but who the People’s Action Party desires to fill its party ranks – and they have a very narrow and strategic focus.

Yet, as a writer in TODAY pointed out, ‘historically, many ministers have come from professions which are unlikely to figure among the top 1,000 earners, including career army officers, academics and trade unionists'.

So the argument is not just elitist, it is shown to be historically untrue (at least partially).

Another unchallenged assumption: that the salaries of top earners in the private sector are uncontroversial and should be adopted as ‘objective’ indicators of ‘reasonable’ salaries for those deemed deserving and capable. But why did Occupy Wall Street happen? Globally, there is overwhelming public dismay and disgust over excesses in the private sector – apparently, the ratio of pay for CEOs versus the average worker in the United Kingdom is 22:1 and, in the United States, an alarming 475:1.

While our Occupy Raffles Place movement did not happen (physically), I don’t believe there aren’t similar sentiments here too. And where does that resentment spring from? The intuitive sense that NO ONE, no matter how capable, deserves to be paid in such gross disproportion to the plenty of other honest and hardworking others who are consistently undervalued and paid so little. These escalating ratios mock the reality of our interdependency, for the CEO of any company is reliant on the constant hum and drum of its many employees – from its lowest rungs to more revered tiers – to keep the company thriving and drawing profits.

Empirically, there has also been little evidence that the ‘pay better = attract quality leaders’ equation works. After all, there was a boost in ministers’ salaries in 2007 and, well, look what happened during the last General Election in 2011.

Surely that should have been a wake-up call to examine the other factors that are deterring persons otherwise suited to come forward and ‘join politics’. The reluctance to do so, the insistence on prioritizing high pay in practice while paying lip service to ‘service’, contributes to the persistent and cynical conclusion that it IS all about the money. [And until fundamental flaws in our top-down political system, which can be oppressive and unkind to political plurality and vibrancy, is addressed, competitive salaries will continue to be limited in its ability to draw talent – or, at the very least, the sort of diversity of talent a growing number of Singaporeans appear to yearn.]

Additionally, how was this whole pay package review conducted? The process should be placed under as much public scrutiny as the outcome. This particular pay system – of pegging salaries of government ministers and top civil servants to the top earners in the private sector – was created, defended, and entrenched by the PAP since 1994, despite vehement public disagreement. After the so-called ‘watershed’ election of 2011, which showed the ruling party in no uncertain times it was losing its popularity, a review of this pay package was called for – by the Prime Minister. More importantly, the terms of reference for this review was set – by the Prime Minister (and they went unchallenged by the review committee, who worked only to the terms of reference. See Siew Kum Hong’s post ‘Answering the wrong question on ministerial salaries’] Within this new package, heralded as dispensing a ‘clean wage’, the performance bonus, which could possibly go up to six months, will be ‘determined by the Prime Minster’ (according to the Straits Times, ‘What goes into a minister’s pay’, 5 Jan 2012). The mentality that ‘we will makes changes when we want to’, ‘how we want to’ and in what degree we feel is necessary, remains unchanged.

So the mercenary asks: ‘Are we being too idealistic’?
I caught snatches of BlogTV today (5 Jan 2012), where the topic was the ministerial pay cuts. A ‘political observer’ expressed the view that politics is ‘not priesthood’, that it was unrealistic for members of the voting public to expect politicians to make drastic financial sacrifices for the heavy responsibilities they undertake simply out of passion or a desire to serve.

Such hyperboles unhelpfully exaggerate what are not unreasonable ideals people the world over generally expect and admire in leaders – integrity, empathy, fairness and a heart geared towards service. Yet expressions of such expectations of potential office bearers tend to be pooh-poohed as ‘idealistic’, as if some inherent incompatibility exists between capable, caring and committed public servants and any pay packet below $1.1 million dollars+++. Plus, Singaporeans, generally noted for their pragmatism, are not advocating Minister Martyrs who undergo severe deprivation in order to prove themselves worthy to run the country. (That said, an entry-level minister under the revised scheme will earn about $55, 000+++ a month. If someone cannot budget a comfortable living on $55K a month, would I want that person to be my Minster? If anything less than this is considered financial hardship for our leaders, then how can they continue to reject, without any sense of irony or shame, calls to institute a living wage in this increasingly expensive city?)

It is frustrating how advocating a principled approach, when it runs contrary to the ruling party’s approach, tends to get you framed as ‘idealist’ – in a derogatory way. Idealism has become a careless smear thrown at anyone who finds distasteful the dehumanizing lens our government has cast on every aspect of our lives here in Singapore.

I oppose this representation and think it’s time we reclaim our right to champion values we collectively agree are important, without fear of ridicule or retaliation when the actions of those in power contradict these values.

GE 2011: My vote and my ‘child’s future’

2011-05-02T01:44:00.001+08:00

As a mother-to-be and eligible voter, I am, for the first time, considering a) who to cast my vote for, and b) ‘my child’s future’.

This is the PAP’s ongoing mantra – vote for us, think of your children’s future and your grandchildren’s future, not to mention your assets and property values and job opportunities.

Well, I have been thinking hard about my child’s future, and the sort of Singapore I would like him to experience and fully participate in as he grows up. I have also been thinking about the norms that he will be exposed to, that will have the ability to shape his formation as a young adult. I have also been considering what sort of lessons our current socio-political landscape will be teaching him (and it discomforts me greatly).

I would like my son – yes, it’s a boy, says the doctor – to respect leaders for their integrity, dedication to service and commitment to justice that is not bereft of compassion.

I would like him to be steered by courageous leadership, one that does not succumb to easy appeals to greed and fear in order to secure votes, but inspires him to rise above self-centredness to support decisions that may, potentially, cause him some temporary discomfort, but may ultimately result in a more humane alternative to the current ‘catch up or die’ development model.

I would very much like my child to be able to speak his mind respectfully yet fearlessly if he disagrees with the status quo, without having to hover in the background to remind him: ‘Be careful, son!’ (And then give a long and somber lecture about the existence of the Internal Security Act and how it has been abused in the past to silence and intimidate persons who disagreed and tried to challenge the system.)

I want him to grow up learning that loyalty should be earned, not bought. That if he was ever to become a politician, or even a team leader in his school or manager of a company, that his key strategy should not be to induce obedience through a coercive combination of threats and bribes. If my son wins – a competition, a promotion, an election – I would like to be proud of how he won it through a ‘clean fight’. That he won the respect of others who have selected him because of his capabilities, his potential, his sincere desire to serve others.

I would like my son to appreciate humility and its power to move others. Genuine humility, that comes from admitting to human frailties and mistakes and taking responsibility for them. Humility that is demonstrated by listening with sincerity to others with differing – even opposing – views, without being dismissive, patronizing or bullying them into silence.

I would like my child to grow up in a country where the ‘good life’ is not merely characterized by GDP growth, but by the measure in which fellow citizens protect and care for each other, particularly the most vulnerable amongst us. I look forward to him being part of a country where he could, without being a Presidents Scholar, or even a degree holder, be recognized and valued for whatever skills and talents he possesses. I want him to work in a country where he could excel in a trade if he so chooses – e.g. carpentry, bricklaying, horticulture – and be paid a decent, living wage for an honest day’s work, a wage where he could afford to get married, buy a comfortable (not necessarily luxurious) home and raise a family.

I want my child to be convinced that in this society, there is no shame or crime in being different, that it is important to think critically, imaginatively, and boldly – that the road to success is not through memorizing model answers or mindlessly filling in the blanks with droll answers provided by judicious instructors. I hope that he can flourish within an education system that genuinely fosters creativity, spontaneity and sparks of harmless mischief, and doesn’t kill enthusiasm for subjects/curricula not perceived as ‘profitable’ – e.g. philosophy and literature, as opposed to engineering or accounting.

I want my child to grow up with a healthier understanding and experience of democracy than I have. I want him to experience a Singapore where it is not accepted as ‘normal’ for Members of Parliament to hold on to their positions for years – even decades – without having ever been voted in; where ‘live’ debates between politicians of different parties over pertinent policy issues are a regular feature; where civil liberties such as freedom of assembly and expression and the right to information are not treated as ‘luxuries’ but recognized as the fundamental rights of mature citizens.

I want him to be able to experience the dynamism of an egalitarian society at its best – one where persons fight fearlessly to protect the principles of truth and justice, yet never forget the beauty of mercy and gentleness.

But most of all, I do not want my child, when he is 21 and no longer a child, but an adult about to vote himself, to ask me, perhaps with some measure of disappointment, maybe resentment, or possibly despair: ‘Mom, why didn’t any of you do anything?’

I am 38 years old this year, and I can finally vote.

And because I’m thinking of my child’s future, I know exactly what I want to say come 7 May 2011 at my local polling station.

How about 'Richer, Kinder, Slower'?

2011-02-18T12:52:00.025+08:00

I have come to my tether, and therefore I must blog (or self-combust).

In a nutshell:

Cause of aggravation #1: A friend told me last night of a conversation between an undergraduate at a local university here and her colleague. Her colleague had expressed his dismay at the large numbers of elderly folk in Singapore working in menial, backbreaking jobs. The law student couldn’t understand what the fuss was – after all, ‘it’s good that they at least have a job’.

This echoes a letter in a mainstream newspaper recently, which similarly extolled the employment of elderly folk here in Singapore as some sort of blessing.

Two questions for persons who hold such views:

Is this what you wish you/your mother/father/grandparents will be doing when you/they are 65, 70, 75? To be pushing trolleys, hauling trash, clearing plates (while standing most of the day), so as to earn a part-time pay of maybe $400 a month, or full-time pay of perhaps $800?

The government will boldly splash posters of elderly working folk who beam and tell us they are grateful to be working, that working keeps them active, affords them a modest income. The mainstream media will boost their efforts by featuring more of these elderly workers who are pleased to be working.

These elderly men and women are admirable for their spirit, but such cases should not be exploited to a) exaggerate the number of such cases; b) distract from the problem that many elderly persons are forced to take on menial jobs with meager wages just to make ends meet.

After working a lifetime, instead of easing into an era of ‘Richer, Kinder, Slower’, the low-wage elderly find themselves coerced by the state into being ‘Cheaper, Better, Faster’. So much for filial piety and contributing to the spoils of this extremely prosperous nation.

Ministers who are past retirement age but still working – not just as highly paid government officials but also as consultants on boards of large companies – are far from a legitimate example for the rest of the country’s ‘average citizens’.

Their wealth and bargaining powers position them among the elite, who can easily choose not to work and still live extravagantly till their last days – they do not need to worry about escalating healthcare costs draining their dwindling retirement savings, or what record inflation will mean for their daily expenditure.

I have met foreign workers from poorer countries in the region who ask me, with great puzzlement (sometimes shock), how is it that in Singapore, one of the richest countries in the world, there are so many frail elderly women and men working alongside them, as they clean toilets and scrape leftover food off plastic plates. I am embarrassed, and unable to answer. ‘This will never happen back in our country’, some of them say, shaking their heads.

Which makes me wonder, as it increasingly does for others: what is the point of being one of the wealthiest countries in the world, when we are so callous towards the weak and marginalized?

Cause of aggravation #2: The Ministry of Manpower responded to my letter to the Straits Times forum about foreign worker levies (specifically, the foreign domestic worker – or ‘maid’ – levy). In light of the recent controversy over proposed wage hikes for domestic workers, I had proposed a reduction in the foreign maid levies. This could alleviate the financial strain of working families as well as be redirected to increasing the wages of domestic workers here in Singapore. After more than a decade, the wages of domestic workers have increased from a mere $230 to $380; in comparison domestic workers can earn up to $800 in Taiwan or $650 in Hong Kong. (Little wonder they would much rather head there!)

The response from the MOM reiterated nothing new: the levy is to moderate demand, they said, not wages. However, if the mandate of the levy is to ‘moderate’ demand, I would like to point out that there is nothing ‘moderate’ about the exponential leaps in domestic worker numbers in this country.

The Foreign Maid Scheme was introduced in 1978. By 1988, in just a decade, there were 40,000 maids in Singapore. By 1993, it was said that one in fifteen households in Singapore employed a domestic worker, one of the highest rates in the world for countries with live-in domestic help; by 2007, this figure was one in six households; in 2009, it was one in five households. In today’s letter, the MOM says there are now more than 200,000 domestic workers in Singapore. In 2009 alone, 6,000 new domestic workers were hired in that one year. The figures below chart the not-so-moderate increases (as culled from media reports and research papers):

Foreign Domestic Worker population / Year
40,000 / 1988
100,000 / 1999
160,000 / 2005
170,000 / Feb 2009
196,000 / Dec 2009
200,000 / Feb 2011

Sure, numbers could have gone even higher without the levies – but is that even the point anymore? There is clearly a deepening structural dependence on domestic workers here in this country, and if the government doesn’t take concrete steps to reduce this reliance, then what is the point of taxing employers even further?

A levy ceases to be an effective deterrent when there appear to be little other attractive options available. Moreover, the costs of previously affordable alternatives have risen beyond the costs of the levy – e.g. when childcare outside the home costs $800-$1200, a financially pragmatic working family might choose to hire a domestic worker instead, as the domestic worker’s salary + levy is still lower. This does not mean that all families who do so can easily afford to hire a domestic worker – but that it will be presented as the less financially taxing option if childcare costs continue to escalate, as has been reported in the press yesterday and today.

There is also a standard PAP-government way of rationalizing ‘cost savings’: The MOM stated in its letter that families with young children, elderly and disabled family members pay a ‘concessionary levy’ of $170, instead of the full maid levy of $265. That is indeed ingenious – slapping on a tax of $265, then reducing it slightly and, hey presto! You have ‘cost savings’!

If the levy is not quite ‘moderating’ demand, and is fast losing effectiveness as a ‘deterrant’ due to inflationary pressures on childcare and aged care options outside the home, then what is the foreign worker levy for, where does the money go, and how is the money being used?

A foreign worker levy is a tax employers of all work permit holders and S-Pass holders have to pay every month. There are over 200,000 domestic workers in Singapore, and the levy ranges from $170-$265 per domestic worker. As of December 2009, there were allegedly 856,000 work permit holders, and the levy per worker ranges from $160-$470. As per Dec 2009 figures, there were 82,000 S-Pass holders, and their monthly levy ranges from $110-$150. Anyone wishes to hazard a guess how much this means in terms of government revenue each year?

A conservative estimate, based on an assumption that 40 percent of households pay a concessionary levy of $170, and the rest of the 60 percent pay $265, means a ‘guesstimate’ of revenue earned from the maid levy alone per year would be:

80,000 x $170 (monthly levy) = $13, 600, 000
+
120,000 x $265 (monthly levy) = $31, 800, 000
=
$45, 400, 000 in revenue each month for the maid levy alone

If you multiply that by 12 (months), that makes it $544, 800, 000 earned from the maid levy each year.

What if you add the levies from the other 856,000 work permit holders (which are considerably higher), and the 82, 000 S-Pass holders?

It made my calculator go beserk and my head spin.

The state has never revealed in total how much it earns in revenue from the foreign worker levies, where this money – billions! – is channeled to, and how it is used.

There is no transparency and no accountability, and yet we have to accept their rationale, as foreign worker levies continue to rise alongside foreign worker numbers, that this is really for our own good.

Cause of aggravation #3: Record inflation rates and ‘wage increases’

The news today predicts record inflationary rates – inflation is estimated to rise to 5 or 6 percent in the coming months; averaging at 3 to 4 per cent the entire year. Apparently, the average inflation rate since the 1980s has been 1.7 per cent, so this rise is considerable and alarming.

Of course, we are also told that the economy grew at a record pace last year.

But wait, hang on, income inequality has also been growing at an alarming rate too:

• According to the United Nations, the rich-poor gap in Singapore is the second largest among the world’s developed countries. Apparently, Singapore’s richest 20 percent earn 9.7 times more than the poorest 20 percent: the median monthly income of Singapore’s richest 20 percent rose from S$5, 328 in 1996 to S$7,278 in 2009; meanwhile, the poorest 20 percent saw their wages increase by a mere $32 over the same 13 year time period (from S$711 to $749).

• Yet another article in the Huffington Post cited: ‘From 1998 to 2008, the bottom 20 percent of households saw their income drop an average of 2.7 percent while the salaries of the richest 20 percent rose by more than half’.

• Leong Sze Hian’s article, 'Income up 0.3%: Everyone got govt benefits?', pointed out that between 2009 to 2010, ‘the ratio of average income of top 20 percent to lowest 20 percent employed households increased from 12.7 to 12.9’.

• Currently, up to 400,000 workers – 20 percent of the resident workforce – earn a monthly wage of less than S$1200.

Yet Singapore remains one of the world’s most expensive cities in the world, the second most expensive in Asia to live in (after Tokyo) – it is estimated that housing prices have increased by 70 percent since 2006. In contrast, it ranks low on wage levels in comparison with other major cities (43rd out of the 73 surveyed).

A commentary in today’s Straits Times (‘New Era of Higher Inflation’, 18/2/2011) talked about the problem of ‘higher wages’ – both overseas and in Singapore – and how this is also a driver of inflation. A mention was made of higher foreign worker levies, which an economist equated to a ‘rise in wages’.

Once again, and I refer to my previous point: higher foreign worker levies DO NOT MEAN HIGHER WAGES. It may mean higher labour costs for employers, and it definitely means higher revenue earnings for the Singapore government, but it certainly does NOT translate to increases in salary payments for low-paid workers.

And then, there was this statement: ‘Higher labour costs, by definition, mean higher pay for Singaporeans. As long as salaries rise by more than inflation – as they did last year – then Singaporeans’ purchasing power will still increase’.

Perhaps this writer is referring to the top 20 percent of Singapore’s richest households, whose income more than doubled.

But ‘salary increases’ on par with inflationary pressures is not a reality for a significant proportion of other households. In fact, Leong Sze Hian, in the article cited earlier, suggests that lower-income households actually experienced, in real terms, a decrease in income.

The mantra to ‘solve’ our woes seems to be reduced to one word: productivity. Increase productivity, and your business will become more cost-effective/the reliance on foreign workers will be reduced/you will somehow automatically earn more money because you are more productive.

Really?

Have you ever been in an office or been part of a team where someone was laid off (to cut costs), and the workload increased – hence more labour output per worker – but your salary didn’t?

In any case, Singapore, of all places, is not one where upward pressure on wages will be tolerated for too long. The PAP's objective has always been to ensure the labour market remains ‘flexible’ and wages ‘internationally competitive’ in order to attract businesses and foreign investors. For the ruling party has vastly different sets of rules to be applied to different segments of the community.

For PAP Ministers and others on the government’s payroll, it is imperative that they are paid ‘top dollar’ to preserve their integrity and attract ‘top talent’. Salaries are pegged to the top market performers, and are increased along with GDP growth. Nothing to do with individual productivity or performance, and salaries consistently continue to increase.

For the rest of the workforce, particularly those on the lower rungs of the labour market - including hunched-over 65 year-old aunties mopping toilets - salaries must be pegged to productivity. No matter that there are limits to how many queen-size beds you can physically make up in an hour; or plates you can clear off hawker centre tables; or trolleys you can remove (without leading to higher rates of work injury and stress).

In fact, how about a vastly different question: How about increasingly woeful salaries to increase productivity? In one episode of Undercover Boss, one employer discovered differences in the cleaning teams in two different caravan resort parks, both of which he owns. Among the better performing team, wages were notably higher – the team supervisor there had cut management staff, and used the money to boost the salaries of the cleaners. Instead of management breathing down the cleaner’s necks, they implemented random spot checks. The cleaning team responded to this greater independence and higher pay by becoming more diligent, motivated and cheerful.

Which reminds me of a quote by a low-wage worker in Australia, who appeared on a talk show discussing the rising costs of living. In exasperation, after bureaucrats kept harping about how wage increases may harm the economy, she commented (am paraphrasing): How is it that marginal wage increases for the low-paid are always ‘harmful’ for the economy, but generous pay increases for the already highly-paid are not?

It is astounding and quite sickening how pay rises for top executives and ministers in this country have been rising to obscene levels – way beyond what could reasonably be construed as ‘need’ – while a significant number of persons who do an honest day’s work are forced to scrape by on salaries ranging from $400 to $1000. Moreover, any calls to mandate salary increases for the low-paid are met with horror by policy-makers, who cite a string of ‘nasty consequences’ – namely, for the economy. How come there are no nasty consequences for the economy when millions/billions are directed each year to our inflated bureaucracy?

So stop this ‘cheaper, better, faster’ nonsense already. It’s not greater productivity that we need to ameliorate the problems of the working poor.

What I want are policy-makers with greater emotional intelligence and empathy, to shift us towards a new development model that values each worker and citizen, and upholds the principles of dignity at work – not just for people at the top echelons, but especially for those currently subsisting at the bottom.

Dear Vui Kong

2011-01-16T23:56:00.008+08:00

This blog entry is for Yong Vui Kong, a young man currently sitting on Singapore’s Death Row. His appeal hearing takes place tomorrow, 17 January, at 10am, at the Court of Appeal, Supreme Court. This letter is part of a blog-a-thon organized by We Believe in Second Chances.

Dear Vui Kong,

I am not much of a blogger. I started a blog in August 2009, and so far it only has three entries.

Each of them, I wrote because I was motivated to say something, and could not rest till I expressed it in words.

Today, I am writing my fourth entry, for you.

We Believe in Second Chances organized a blog-a-thon and I attended, even though I wasn’t sure what I was going to say.

While I was there, I read the booklet that your sister lovingly put together as an appeal to President Nathan. It was filled with plenty of photographs of you and your family – lots of warm smiles – and it was both heartwarming and heartbreaking to see these images and read the emotional appeal.

Damien and Kirsten also brought a birthday cake, and we all sang Happy Birthday to you, and blew out the candles together after making a wish – for your freedom, and that of the others on death row.

I hope that it brings you some joy to know that there are people out here, whom you have never met, who are concerned about you and wish you and your family well.

I spent some time thinking about this – how it is that we can develop an attachment, or some deep concern for another, despite the separateness of our lives.

Up till last year, I was never particularly involved in the anti-death penalty movement. But the more I read, the more disturbed I became. I started to follow the stories on The Online Citizen, and attended several of the events, including one where your brother and your MP from Sabah spoke.

I was drawn to your story, and when I saw the photograph of your family kneeling outside the Istana , that image haunted me. I felt a deep and heavy ache in my heart, mixed with growing anger at how my country was behaving.

How could a life – a life cherished by self, and also by others – be taken away, so thoughtlessly, so cruelly, by legislators?

The death penalty is an issue that frequently leads to fierce debates, and I have read arguments from both sides.

But in my mind, there is no justification to kill another (it’s murder, no matter what you call it). If we recognize our human-ness, then we are fully aware that we are beings capable of shameful crimes and reproachful behaviour. But we also have an immense and remarkable capacity to change – to feel remorse, to take steps to repent, to demonstrate kindness and compassion even in the most hateful of circumstances.

I am moved by the love and tenacity of your family, and the strength you have demonstrated over the long and difficult years you have spent on death row.

It does not matter to me what statistics my country’s legislators sprout, in a vain attempt to convince me that they have a right to do what they are doing to you and your family.

I do not care if people say that I am simply swayed by emotion in my support for this campaign to save you, and show support for you and others in your situation.

For that is precisely what binds us together in this crazy, cruel, confusing world – moments where we appreciate beauty, demonstrate empathy and love mercy.

Despite the difficult circumstances you are in, I hope that you feel comfort, love and an abiding peace in your heart.

Happy 23rd Birthday Vui Kong!

Love,
Stephanie/Stephii

A Mandatory Living Wage – No More Cheap Excuses, Please

2010-09-15T19:30:00.001+08:00

As Senior Diplomat Tommy Koh pointed out in today's Straits Times ('Basic pay: Tommy Koh weighs in'), all advanced economies, including Japan, South Korea, Taiwan and now Hong Kong have a minimum wage. Malaysia is now considering it.

It is therefore frustrating to hear the same tired excuses from our current government against implementing a mandatory minimum wage.

Their key arguments generally run along this vein. Implementing a minimum wage is difficult and problematic. It hurts employment opportunities for the low-skilled. “Artificially raising” workers' wages makes them uncompetitive. It is better to let “market forces” decide wage rates. Workfare works for us.

Is that the “invisible hand” choking me?

The “free market” argument championed by the ruling party as the solver of social problems is a selective one. When the PAP says, “let market forces decide”, it is a strategic choice, because this is not a hands-off government.

The Heritage Foundation consistently gives Singapore high scores (98.9%) for what it terms “Labour Freedom”, defined as follows:

"Singapore’s labor market is highly flexible. The non-salary cost of employing a worker is low, and dismissing an employee is not burdensome. Regulations related to work hours are very flexible."

“Labour freedom”, in Singapore terms, means freedom for capital, not workers. And how was this high score achieved? By ensuring that its policy framework prioritizes the needs of capital over the welfare of workers. This is not incidental.

“Invisible” market forces did not morph our labour movement into the “consensual” tripartite framework of today. It was the heavy-handed and consistent intimidation of “non-consensual” leadership, such that only those who did not challenge (too vigorously) the PAP party line have been able to rise the ranks. Fast forward a generation or two and here we have it: a “Uniquely Singapore” labour movement represented by an umbrella union who agrees to wage cuts, does not support a minimum wage and flies the flag of: cheaper, better, faster. (And when you get there, make sure you become better, betterer, betterest!)

What is easy versus what is right

Opponents of the minimum wage say such requirements will increase business costs. The view is that such increases may negatively impact on employment as well as business opportunities and thereby affect unemployment rates as well as “the economy”.

The view that business costs will rise may be true, but also in today’s Straits Times was an interview with Mr. Peter Handel from global training firm Dale Carnegie (‘Keeping employees, and keeping them happy’). In it, Mr. Handel supported Singapore’s controversial wage structure for its ministers, saying the United States should follow suit and pay its President a lot more. According to Mr. Handel, “In any organization, the employees should be paid properly, no question”.

Following on from that logic, any refusal to legalize a mandatory minimum wage is a glaring reminder that one set of business ethics seems to be applied to white-collar workers (including our civil servants), and another to those considered “low-skilled”. It may be debatable what being “paid properly” entails, but surely we can agree that the current status quo, whereby manual labourers/cleaners/service sector workers may earn hourly wages ranging from S$2.50-$3.50, or monthly wages ranging from S$500-$800, is not proper? (I just heard from a friend that some workers were paid S$10 a day for setting up seats along the F1 circuit. That would work out to approximately $1.25 per hour for an 8-hour work day, $1 per hour if it were a 10-hour work day! Honestly – how low do we really want to go?) For a country with a Gross Domestic Product of over $265 billion, this is a disgusting social reality.

Ministers who preach from million-dollar pedestals should contemplate the indignity of being paid S$3.50 for an hour of honest work in a city ranked the 10th costliest to live in the world. Their insistence on Workfare makes it clear the government adopts a “personal responsibility” ethos – can’t earn higher wages? It’s your fault, you need more training. This emphasis, however, is counter-productive when no efforts are made to ensure wages and job scopes will fairly reflect time and money investments spent on “training”. (You can call me a “Sanitation Expert” instead of a cleaner, but what’s the point if I’m still being paid $3.50 per hour on a contract with no annual leave or medical benefits?)

Meanwhile, as blogger Lucky Tan has pointed out: “A minimum wage, if properly set, is the income required for decent living in Singapore. It only distorts the market and hurt the employment of workers when you have an economy dependent low wages and many workers currently employed below the minimum wage.”

There are a number of local labour laws that make things inconvenient and less profitable for employers/businesses. These include the necessity to pay salaries on time, to compensate workers for overtime work and ensure injured workers are adequately compensated. Yet these are enshrined in law for a purpose, because we believe certain minimum protections are necessary and important. The questions: “Is this easy to implement?” and “Will it be difficult for businesses” were not determining factors.

Similarly, debates about a mandatory minimum wage should not be a quarrel over what is “easy” or “business-friendly”. It is a debate over what we, as a community and country, believe is a right and ethical policy direction to take.

Are we going to continue with this current economic model whereby a dependency on below subsistence wages are the norm for a certain segment of our population? What is going to happen in the long-term if there is no intervention?

Improve labour standards and wages for all workers

There have been many complaints about the rise in foreign worker numbers on our island; these low-wage workers are often blamed for depressing wages for locals due to their acceptance of lower pay and harsh working conditions.

It is true that there is little incentive for employers to increase wages when there is a ready supply of workers with even less bargaining power they can hire.

What I’d like to address, though, are some misconceptions about foreign workers being hired simply because they are “cheap labour”. Firstly, it is not always true that hiring a foreign worker is “cheaper” for an employer, especially after the foreign worker levies are included. In several newspaper articles, employers have voiced how foreign workers are more willing to work long hours and stay on the job, unlike locals who are said to quit easily. Employers know that foreign workers often arrive debt-ridden (from hefty agency fees) and are highly dependent on their employers/agents (for their employment as well as their legal status, and often for lodging, food and transport). This can shape them into relatively more compliant workers with a higher endurance for low wages and poor working conditions, some of which violate local labour laws. This is a situation that is disadvantageous to everyone in the low-wage labour market – local and foreign included.

Of course, employers also complain that they have “no choice” but to hire foreigners because locals do not want these jobs that foreign workers occupy in the construction, marine and service sectors. Increasing wages marginally may or may not be enough to keep turnover rates low among locals, because there are other things that make these jobs unattractive – unfriendly shifts, health and safety hazards, the generally demanding nature of these jobs and the low status accorded to such occupations among our society.

It is therefore important to strengthen legislative frameworks so that all workers are protected and overall labour standards (including wage levels) are improved. This is something the “free market” will not resolve on its own, not in a competitive, pro-business environment such as Singapore. As Senior Diplomat Tommy Koh said in today’s Straits Times: “… is it not true that the market is not infallible? Is it not true that, when there is a market failure, the state should intervene in order to make the world a fairer one?”

The point, ultimately, is to equalize the labour market and increase not only the earning power but also the bargaining powers of the working poor – powers that were gradually eroded over the years. Ensuring they are paid a fair wage that reflects current living costs is just a step in this direction, but one that should be taken.

Many countries around the world have implemented the minimum wage. In fact, discussions have already moved towards the implementation of a Living Wage which, according to Wikipedia, is a standard that "generally means that a person working forty hours a week, with no additional income, should be able to afford a specified quality or quantity of housing, food, utilities, transport, health care, and recreation”. (Now, isn’t this a beautiful vision?)

As a tagline for a Living Wage campaign site says: “A job should keep you out of poverty, not keep you in it”.

(P.S. Ravi Philemon has just put up a blogpost on the Living Wage.)

Death row in Singapore - we need answers, not silencing

2010-07-31T06:42:00.012+08:00

I have just finished the not-banned-just-not-available-on-the-island book Once a Jolly Hangman: Singapore Justice in the Docks.

I feel like someone who took a long blink and missed a solar eclipse. How on earth could all this have been buried for so long?

So this is what happens when you don’t have freedom of the press, when you have a mainstream media cowered and adept at self-censorship. This is what happens when you get so used to the high level of secrecy involved in “politically sensitive” matters you don’t demand answers anymore (at least not after the first attempt is refused).

This book, and the arrest of the British author Alan Shadrake, has jolted me out of weary resignation. It demonstrates so compellingly the costs of not knowing, not investigating, not demanding.

How many innocent people have been murdered because of our ignorance? And how much has our ignorance cemented our unreflective beliefs about the mandatory death penalty and its alleged “necessity” in keeping Singapore crime-free? Why are petty offenders being hanged, while drug barons roam free and benefit from lucrative business deals sanctioned by the state? Why can’t we know what happens on death row, if the claim is true that its endurance is “good for Singapore”?

And the minute someone does a thorough investigation and stirs a necessary debate on a controversial policy, what happens? He gets arrested.

The book is “not banned” but bookstores are intimidated into not stocking it – in other words, it is akin to being banned without the actual admission that this is so. (I’m so insulted that they think we are that stupid)

And then comes this at yesterday’s High Court hearing for Alan Shadrake:

“At the outset of the hearing Senior Counsel David Chong acting for AGC, reminded the media that it too would be liable for contempt if paragraphs being complained of in this case were repeated by them.” (CNA)

So now we are being warned against reproducing sections of a book that is “not banned”. But if you refuse to admit it is banned, what right have you got to restrict its circulation?

WHAT ARE YOU SO AFRAID OF?

Are you afraid that people will read about Singapore’s investments in Burma and its alleged links to internationally known drug lords? (It’s already on the Internet, see here and here).

Are you afraid that people will make judgments about how Julia Bohl, a German citizen and known drug trafficker, had her sentence lessened after the amount of drugs she was found with was reduced after “further laboratory tests” (from 687 grams to 281 grams)?

Are you afraid that people will start questioning the sting tactics of the Central Narcotics Bureau, when an informant in the book alleges that sometimes small time drug mules are encouraged to smuggle larger amounts by undercover officers – amounts that lead to death by hanging if caught?

Are you afraid of international condemnation when it becomes public knowledge that there were cases when drug offenders with signs of significant intellectual impairment were not given special consideration?

Are you afraid of the scandal when it is revealed the son of a former High Court judge was arrested for consuming cocaine – in addition to the revelation that he managed to serve time at home with an electronic tag?

Are you afraid of public outrage when we read about the case of Vignes Mourthi, who was hanged largely based on the account of a key witness who was also concurrently being investigated for charges of corruption, rape and sodomy? (Only this key witness, a senior officer, was not tried till a year after Mourthi was hanged)

Are you afraid that when we read vivid descriptions of the hanging process, the agony of waiting as you hear the sounds of others being executed, the securing of arms and legs to ensure there is no struggling, the careful measuring required because “if you get it wrong the head would go one way and the body the other”, the suspension of bodies for 20 minutes to ensure death (or until the body stops writhing), the engorged faces, the swollen, protruding tongues, the bulging eyes, the neck covered with lacerations… we will be haunted by the thought of the approximately 1,000 times our renowned executioner Darshan Singh (now retired) has carried them out?

Well, if you have the tenacity to persist in this barbaric practice, if you place yourself in a position of such power that you can take away someone else’s life and publicly insist it is for the good of this nation, then have the guts to defend yourselves when put under the spotlight.

Respond to the allegations, which you oppose and propose is untrue. Give us the evidence required to convince us that the system is fair.

But don’t arrest a 75-year old investigative journalist with heart problems who was just doing his job – and doing it so well you had to find ways to (attempt to) silence him.

RECENT NEWS
AFP, UK author vows to fight Singapore contempt charge.

Alex Au, Shooting the messenger in Singapore

BBC, UK author Shadrake's Singapore contempt trial adjourned

Human Rights Watch, Singapore: Legal Charges Threat to Freedom of Expression

The Guardian, Singapore's reputation on the line as British author fights on

Keep up-to-date on FACEBOOK Free Alan Shadrake!

THE ARREST
BBC, British author of death penalty book held in Singapore

British Weekly, SHADRAKE: I’d do it all again

The Online Citizen, Author Alan Shadrake arrested for “alleged criminal defamation” (Update 8)

THE BOOK
Yawning Bread, New book puts death penalty on trial

The Online Citizen, Review : Once A Jolly Hangman

The Online Citizen, A safe system of equal justice for all?

THE DEATH PENALTY & CURRENT CAMPAIGNS
The Death Penalty in Singapore

The Online Citizen, Save Vui Kong Campaign (Updated: 25/7)

Online Petition: Give Yong Vui Kong a Second Chance to Help Singapore’s Anti-Drug Trafficking Policy

For where to buy the book, see here.

Getting Jorge Home

2010-07-26T19:53:00.009+08:00

This is my very first blog entry, and I dedicate it to Augusto Faustino Jorge - or, as he introduced himself, Jorge.

I first met Jorge face-to-face on Tuesday, 20 July 2010, at the Jurong Fishery Port here in Singapore. Jorge, 32, is from Mozambique (a country in southeastern Africa). He had been part of a crew on board the Tai Yuan 111, a Taiwanese fishing vessel. While the senior crew - for example the captain and engineers - were from China, the fishermen were made up of men from Indonesia, Philippines, Vietnam, Mozambique and Kenya.

The ship had been out at sea for 15 months straight - yes, that's right, 15 months without touching dry land - and finally docked at Singapore's Jurong Fishery Port on 10 June 2010. The reason they docked here was because the ship's chief engineer had died suddenly (apparently from a burst vessel in his brain). Otherwise, they would still be out at sea, fishing off the Indian Ocean, for at least another three months.

Once the ship docked, the desperate fishermen on board attempted to jump ship. A Filipino fisherman, through a relative's contact, managed to get in touch with H.O.M.E., a local NGO assisting migrant workers. After a series of negotiations, the Filipino men were allowed to leave the ship and return to the Philippines. To do so, they forfeited a substantial portion of their withheld wages.

Four other Mozambique fishermen (plus one Kenyan), also managed to leave the ship and return home. Jorge, however, remained stranded. One by one, he watched his fellow crew leave but he was branded NTL - NOT TO LAND - by immigration authorities here. His Mozambique passport had expired in September 2009 - while the Tai Yuan 111 was still out at sea. There is no Mozambique embassy in Singapore - the closest one is in Jakarta.

The ship was docked at the Jurong Port for more than a month before Jorge was finally allowed off it. The day I finally met him was the day he was due to leave the ship and head directly to Changi Airport to catch his flight from Singapore to Johannesburg, where he would disembark and take a three-hour bus ride back to Mozambique. His Special Pass was valid for just four hours - 10pm to 2am (his flight was at 2am).

As we made our way to Changi Airport, I grew to understand Jorge's desperation at leaving - the real terror of being left on board if the ship left the port and went back out to sea.

Life at sea
The Tai Yuan 111 was a deep-line fishing vessel, and at any one time, there would be 3,000 active lines with hooks dangling overboard. The crew often worked 16-17 hours, sometimes sleeping only 4-5 hours. They caught tuna, swordfish, sometimes shark - one fish could weigh over 65 kg. Once a fish was caught, it would have to be scaled, gutted, sliced and put in the deep freezer.

It was dangerous out at sea, and the men were not provided safety vests. "Only the captain and engineers had safety vests," said Jorge, "but not us".

A fellow Mozambican, a friend of Jorge's, died at sea. He had been tugging on a line and the fish - Jorge suspects it was a shark - pulled back with some ferocity. The line was wound tightly around his friend's hand and he could not struggle free. He screamed for help, but no one came forward on time and he flew overboard into the ocean. It was 2am in the morning and pitch black.

Jorge said the captain took a long time to stop the ship and conduct a search. The search lasted only two hours - Jorge says under those conditions, they should have searched at least five hours - before the captain announced: There's nothing we can do. GET BACK TO WORK.

Frequently, the new crew endured violent beatings by the senior crew, instigated by the captain. They would be beaten with hammers, hooks or bare fists. Where would they beat you, we asked Jorge. "Anywhere!" he replied, "The head, the back, anywhere...

"They beat us because they say we don't know how to do things", Jorge said, "but we are new, how are we to know?" For example, the captain (who is Chinese) might ask Jorge to bring him a knife - in Mandarin. "I would look at him, because I don't know what he is saying, and he would beat me". At first, Jorge and the rest of the new crew thought the beatings would end after a few months, when they learnt the ropes of deep-line fishing, but it didn't - the beatings continued.

The men slept on bug-infested floor boards. There were no mattresses, no pillows, no blankets. If you were lucky, you might find an old blanket left behind by someone else. Some men would use their jackets, if they had any, to keep warm. A few of the men's bodies were covered with bed bug bites.

The men showered with saltwater the entire 15 months. While freshwater tanks were available, the freshwater was reserved only for the captain and chief engineers. The crew had to make do with just saltwater. Drinking water was dirty, resulting in frequent stomach upsets. However, medicines were not provided.

There was definitely medicine on board, insists Jorge. But when they asked the captain, he would refuse them access to it. If the men insisted, the captain would say, "You want medicine? Ok, but I will cut your salary".

For 15 months, the men ate rice with fish or pork, three times a day. Nothing else. There were no vegetables, no eggs, no tea, no dairy, no bread. Breakfast, lunch and dinner, it was rice with fish or pork, day in day out, for over 450 days. When a large ship came to their fishing vessel to collect their fish stock, or offload fuel, sometimes they would bring supplies of bread and other items – however, only the captain and engineers would have access to such items.

The salary promised was USD$210 a month. For Jorge, this was considered "high", because the salary he got while working on a Spanish trawler previously was USD$140. His plan was to complete this stint on the Tai Yuan 111 and use the money to invest in a driver's license in Mozambique (it costs around USD$500 to obtain a license to drive a large vehicle, like a lorry or tanker). This will enable him to quit the rough seaman's life and get a "good job" as a driver. If he was lucky, he might even be able to earn USD$300 a month. Currently, his wife works in a supermarket and earns USD$125 a month; they have a young son aged five.

This plan, unfortunately, was foiled. While Jorge was finally allowed to leave the ship on 20 July, his salary was docked to pay for his airticket. For 15 months of hard labour, Jorge was meant to be paid about USD$3000. However, the company deducted USD$2000 for his passage home, leaving him with just USD$1000, of which he sent USD$600 home to his wife, who was worried sick and struggling without his remittances for 15 months. Jorge therefore returned home with just a few hundred US dollars on him.

Getting on board
It took three attempts before Jorge was finally allowed to board his Singapore Airlines flight to Johannesburg.

The first night, Tuesday 20 July, Jorge was not allowed to check in because his passport had expired. His seaman's book was not considered a legitimate substitute. The agent wanted Jorge to head back up the ship, which was scheduled to leave soon. He refused. Understandably. Who on earth would want to return to that treacherous slave-like vessel?

The following day, we made a trip to the South African embassy in Singapore. A connecting flight from Johannesburg to Mozambique was also booked. Time was spent at the Singapore Airlines office at ION Orchard. More phone calls between H.O.M.E. and the Immigration Checkpoints Authority. In total, Jorge had his Special Pass extended three more times over the next few days, entailing numerous trips to the Marina Pier checkpoint. At one stage, the officers there grew familiar with us, saying, "Hey, we were waiting for you!"

Calls were also made to the Mozambique embassy in Jakarta. The embassy representative there also rang the Mozambique consulate in Johannesburg. Assurances were given that if there was any trouble when Jorge landed in South Africa, assistance would be rendered. But this was not enough to get Jorge on the flight. For the second night in a row, on Wednesday, 21 July, Jorge was not allowed to check in. The check-in staff were apologetic - especially after we explained how Jorge was stuck at sea for 15 months, during which his passport expired - but could not override orders from the top.

(And in case you were wondering, Jorge had told his recruitment agent in Mozambique that his passport was about to expire in six months before he boarded the ship. The agent had told him not to worry, that the ship would be out at sea for a maximum of six months - he would be able to disembark and renew his passport or else fly back home before it expired.)

Again, the agent wanted Jorge to return to the ship. Eventually, H.O.M.E.'s Executive Director, Jolovan Wham, decided to personally fly to Jakarta with Jorge's passport and get it renewed, and fly back again on the VERY SAME DAY, in time for Jorge to catch the next 2am flight from Singapore to Johannesburg. There was yet another round of calls, and pleading with the ICA to extend Jorge's Special Pass until this mission was accomplished.

Eventually, IT WAS DONE. Jorge's Special Pass was extended till 2am, and Jolovan got his airticket and flew off to Jakarta on the first available flight that morning, expired passport in hand.

That very afternoon, after receiving the good news from Jolovan - passport extended till 2013! - and several hours before he was due to land, my husband Patrick and I spent the afternoon with Jorge. We walked along the Singapore River, past the Padang, visited the Merlion, and sat on the steps along the Esplanade, facing Marina Bay. We chatted about Singapore, and about Mozambique...

Jorge was curious, awed and amused by Singapore. He asked who was the man on our Singapore dollar bills (Yusof Ishak), why it was sometimes "Singapore" and sometimes "Singapura", and how we paid our electricity bills. We told him if he left his popcorn packet on the ground and was caught, he might get fined $300 or have to serve a corrective work order. He laughed. We told him about Alan Shadrake, the British author who was arrested just a week ago for writing a book about Singapore's death penalty. He shook his head in disbelief. During dinner, he asked us if we had ever shared a meal with a "black man" before.

And finally, when Singapore Airlines, on the third night, on our third try, with the renewed passport in hand, FINALLY issued him a boarding pass, and he was really (like REALLY) about to head back home to Mozambique, he looked at us - Jolovan, Patrick and I - and said he had one question to ask.

"Why? Why did you help me?" His face was a mix of earnestness and bewilderment. "When it got hard, why didn't you just leave me?"

I was too startled and moved to reply.

Jolovan (who'd just stepped off the plane from Jakarta with the renewed passport!) explained that this is what H.O.M.E. does, it assists migrant workers, all kinds of migrant workers.

"I thought I was going to die at sea", Jorge said, staring straight at us. "I thought I would never see my family again".

It was a hard-won passage home. When Jorge finally walked through those departure gates, with his boarding pass (and luggage checked in all the way to Mozambique), it was more than relief. My insides were a simmering cocktail of outrage, sadness and gratitude.

And yet, the drama didn't end there - not yet. For another nail-biting hour (and more), we waited outside as Jorge was detained by ICA officials, his passport, ticket and phone confiscated - with no explanation given.

Finally, at 1am, Jorge rang us from inside the terminal. The ICA officials had returned his documents and phone, and he was led to the boarding gate. He was fine, he assured us, and was waiting to board his flight.

Jorge is now back in Mozambique - he has contacted Jolovan with his new telephone number.

It has been three days since he left Singapore and it is highly possible we may never cross paths again, though we can still stay in contact by other means.

I am immensely grateful, to H.O.M.E., for demonstrating the power and importance of perseverance. For taking one man's life and fight to return home seriously, and not taking "no" (he can't board the plane) for an answer.

I am also immensely disturbed at the thought of all the fishermen on fishing vessels scattered all over our oceans who may be abused, exploited, and unprotected. How many have fallen overboard and are now "missing at sea"?

The night Jorge left for Mozambique, I had dinner at my parents place, and in the centre of the dining table was a large plate topped with a fried fish. I stared at it, and this fish, eyeballs still intact, stared back.

Whose hands reeled you in, I wondered.

Mission accomplished! Patrick, Jorge and Jolovan at Terminal 1. This photo was taken minutes after Jolovan stepped out of the arrival hall, renewed passport in hand.