Crossed With The Cross Island Line – Where We Draw The Line



The debate on the Cross Island Line has been progressing steadily since the release of the first phase of the Environmental Impact Assessment (EIA). On the one hand, we have witnessed how proponents of the Cross Island Line’s currently planned route have continually supported the Land Transport Authority’s plan to encroach into the Central Catchment Nature Reserve to construct a new MRT line. This is in spite of the environmental consequences that have been spelt out by the EIA. It has been found that these consequences cannot be mitigated in their entirety or even with a level of confidence high enough to guarantee minimal impact on our local biodiversity. On the other hand, we see a group of concerned Singaporeans, from geographers and scientists to environmentalists and ordinary citizens advocating for the proposed alternative route along Lornie Road. Even NParks’ former conservation manager of Bukit Timah Nature Reserve has joined the chorus of voices against the current route. Much has been fairly said about the specific localised and generalised merits and drawbacks of each route.


Contrary to what some might assume, however, this debate is not just about pragmatism versus principle. It is not the usual kind of trade-off we have witnessed in the course of our nation’s development. This debate is one that will help shape environmental governance, land use planning and our notions of sustainable development as our nation matures.


Central to the arguments over the Cross Island Line is the type of sustainable development Singapore will show it is committed to, through its decision. What environmental groups like the Nature Society are arguing for, whilst focusing on the intrinsic value of biodiversity, stops short of deep green philosophy. By accepting the real need for better transport infrastructure, capacity and efficiency to support a growing population, these arguments are more in line with the kind of sustainable development that Singapore has been accustomed to than with what the typical pragmatic Singaporean may think of as mere idealistic drivel or bluster. The alternative route, while costlier, will prevent encroachment into the most pristine of our nature reserves while meeting the demands of a 6.9 million-strong population. Simply put, the economic loss brought about by building the alternative route today will be worth what we stand to gain from this decision in the future. It is crucial to note that not only do we stand to conserve our local biodiversity for future generations to learn about, our public transport operators will also benefit economically from having the chance to build one more station along the alternative route. Indeed, residents in Central Singapore will get to partake in the joy of being better connected to both Jurong and Changi like never before. We will all stand to gain from the alternative route of the Cross Island Line which is a project that boasts clear benefits for most of the suburbs that it will ply.


Too often, however, the end game of sustainable development in Singapore has involved environmental losses, in the pursuit of economic or social gain. We live in a country where greenery, no matter how man-made or manufactured, is viewed no differently from that which is natural. We relish in the number of neighbourhood parks we have access to, and in the image of the Garden City, nay – a City in a Garden. But we forget that even a garden no matter how well-manicured or maintained cannot truly conserve the biodiversity that is unique to our Central Catchment Nature Reserve. When we build an expressway through the rainforest, we build a bridge for animals to cross the gap and hail it as a unique solution to a necessary problem. Today, we are committed as a nation to even more land reclamation, drawn out in the 2030 Land Use Plan that will harm more coastal ecosystems in the name of development. Against the backdrop that this mentality provides, for all the merit our nature reserves hold, they are not valued as much as environmental resources upon which we depend more directly are. Interestingly, the water in MacRitchie Reservoir is valued more highly than the trees that surround it, than the soil through which it infiltrates, than the flora and fauna that depend on it as much as we do.


Granted, in the past, development necessitated many trade-offs. Even today, such trade-offs may very well be necessary. However, given not only our current level of development but also the need for us to become smarter and more innovative in addressing land use planning challenges that will only provide more strain with a rising population in the future, the current Singaporean style of sustainable development needs to be rethought.


Otherwise, it is worth questioning if the story of the Cross Island Line presents the new normal of environmental governance in Singapore. Where one government department develops a national biodiversity strategy and another ignores it? Where we change our tune on the environment depending on whom we are talking to? – It is interesting that on the one hand, we tell the world that we are committed to a new global environmental pact founded upon the principle of common but differentiated responsibilities insofar as climate change is concerned. But, on the other hand, we cannot even be committed to safeguarding the green lungs of our own backyard even though we can financially afford to via a potentially viable alternative? The issues of climate change and encroachment into our nature reserves may not be directly linked. But, the clearer picture that the Cross Island Line debate paints of our attitude about the environment suggests that we may not yet be as committed to a new Earth systems-based model of sustainable development as our well-executed dealings in COP 21 may have had begun to suggest.


What we stand to lose from the construction of the Cross Island Line’s current route, however, is much greater than the lost opportunity of increased transport efficiency and capacity. Our commitment to sustainable development is on the line. Today, it might be the Cross Island Line. In a few decades’ time, it might be a residential or industrial development. As most people would surely hope for, Singapore will be around for a long time. Shying away from making smarter decisions about land use planning today will only exacerbate our urban problems in the future in what shall certainly be a more complicated landscape.




Environmental Governance in Singapore – Questioning the Narrative, Questioning the Future


The evolution of environmental policy in Singapore is a topic that has intrigued me for a quite a while now. Growing up, the narrative since primary school had always been that the foresight of our pioneering post-Independence leaders paved the way for the rise of the Garden City1 – the clean and green Singapore, as it we know it today. The city that we hold ourselves responsible to keep litter-free, the city with streets lined with trees methodically planted to splash shades of green upon the mundane grey of our pavements and roads.

At the same time, we learnt that the removal of the negative externalities harboured by the Singapore of the past was necessary to improve our environment so as to render our nation attractive for foreign investors1. A clean nation was not good for public health and the well-being of our own people; it had broader economic consequences that would make Singapore stand out against the rest of the developing Southeast Asian nations of the time.

Today, Singapore’s economic success has been, in part, hailed as one that was borne out of foresight in environmental governance1. However, not all is well with the environment in Singapore. What was seen as necessary development yesterday is today perceived to be the destruction of relics of the past. The changing landscape of Singapore foreshadowed the trade-offs2 we had to make in losing our natural heritage, built heritage and even cultural heritage for the sake of economic development. This is a reality Singaporeans today are all too well aware of and perhaps too complacent about.

Of course, the current government does not deserve all the blame for this. Indeed, one of the most consequential alterations made to our environment was carried out by our former colonial masters. The extensive deforestation of natural vegetation in Singapore provides us with the historical context to explain the existence of merely 0.04% of our natural forest cover that remains today3. To be fair, the government has also done a fair bit to preserve what they felt they could. Our historic cultural districts have always been a feature of our built heritage. Today, iconic suburbs are conferred the title of ‘Identity Node’ to celebrate their unique place in modern Singaporean history4.

Nevertheless, we are faced by challenges today that will require us to rethink environmental governance in Singapore. Steps have been taken in this direction – sustainability perhaps means more today in the context of Singapore’s environmental governance than it had in the past1; climate change is also being looked at by the government2. But is this enough of a shift in our approach or in our assessment of our desired ends? There are pertinent questions to be answered within the next 50 years. Are we ready for climate change? When will we pause for a second to realise there surely must be limits to the amount of land we can reclaim? Can we predict what our optimum population and the corresponding infrastructural requirements will ever be? Are we going to continue to trade our natural heritage for more development, more economic gains and more convenience?

There are questions to be answered. But first, enough of us need to ask them.


[1] Tan, P.Y., Wang, J. & Sia, A. (2013). Perspectives on five decades of the urban greening of Singapore. Cities, 32, 24-32.

[2] Tan, F., Lean, H.H. & Khan, H. (2014). Growth and environmental quality in Singapore: Is there any trade-off? Ecological Indicators, 47, 149-155.

[3] Castelletta, M., Thiollay, J.M. & Sodhi, N.S. (2005). The effects of extreme forest fragmentation on the bird community of Singapore Island. Biological Conservation, 121, 135-155.

[4] Yuen, B. (2005). Searching for place identity in Singapore. Habitat International, 29, 197-214.

Public Transport – On the Right Track?


Is public transport on the right track anymore?

In any urban settlement, the issue of transport is very much a public one. To be transported is to traverse the urban jungle that is Singapore. Long removed from our pre-war past when rickshaws, bullock-carts and sampans allowed us to get where we wanted to go, modern Singapore is not so much metropolitan as it a densely-populated urban area characterised by decentralised residences, industries and services surrounding a vibrant Central Business District. Such decentralisation renders incumbent upon the Government the provision of efficient, reliable and affordable transport options to link people to places. Public transport, in particular, is a key way in which the Government does this for it affords us several benefits including a viable, large-scale solution to alleviate congestion on roads in an environmentally-friendly manner. A quote that stands out stringkingly in its attempt to highlight the invaluable nature of pursuing public transport as a key solution to any country’s transport woes is an utterance by Mayor Peñalosa of Bogota, Colombia – “A developed country is not a place where the poor have cars. It’s where the rich use public transportation.”


We all agree that public transport is of utmost importance in a country like Singapore where 49.5% of residents aged over 15 years use some form of public transport or other to commute daily from home to work or school. However, the reliability and affordability of public transport have come under strong criticism in recent times due to a spate of breakdowns in the Mass Rapid Transit (MRT) and Light Rapid Transit (LRT) systems since 2011 as well as the formerly existing situation where several groups of people such as polytechnic students and the disabled were denied transport concession. To add salt to the wound, the advisory Public Transport Council (PTC) in wanting to extend concession to these groups, increased the fares for almost everyone else by 3.2% using the need for more money to drive upgrading and efficiency as a supposedly justified excuse to do so. The PTC announced this in its fare review of January 2014, a month during which thousands of Singaporeans from every corner of the island experienced MRT and LRT train breakdowns – from Kranji and Bukit Panjang in the west, to Ang Mo Kio in the north and Tanah Merah in the east. Rather unexpectedly, people began to ask why the Government intends to allow the fares to be raised when public transport operators such as SMRT and SBS Transit continue to rake in millions of dollars in operating profits annually in the wake of noticeably declining standards.


The appalling state of affairs of public transport is perhaps most fundamentally affixed to the nature of the administration of this public service in Singapore – that public transport is in fact being operated by private companies such as SMRT and SBS Transit rather than being administered by the Government in the same manner as the successful provision of other public services such as the public education system (through MOE schools), public housing (through HDB) and public healthcare (through Government hospitals). If it is one thing that the system of governance in Singapore is best known for internationally, it is the large-scale provision of essential and accessible public services in a structured and workable manner since Independence. Whilst real challenges continue to exist within each of these Government-controlled systems today, the nationalisation of such services has been a definitve hallmark of our nation’s development.

The pros and cons of the privatisation of public transport operation in Singapore have manifested themselves in the situation we witness today. Higher prices are constantly sought after by the transport operators because of their instinctive economically fuelled ambition to achieve profits to pay their investors and shareholders, regardless of the real standards of transport experienced by commuters. Hence, it was wishful thinking on the part of the Government for assuming that increased profits coupled with economic forces such as demand and supply attributable to the privatisation of public transport operation would haved provided the necessary investments for upgrading and the impetus for greater efficiency and reliability of tansport, ultimately benefiting the consuming commuters. In reality, however, the trickle-down effects of privatisation have evaporated even before commuters could have even harboured the thought of enjoying better and more affordable public transport, leaving us with nothing but a vicious cycle of paying more for expecting a miracle. Furthermore, the intended effect of privatisation in spurring competition and productivity between the public transport operators has not materialised given that SMRT and SBS Transit do indeed have a monopoly on routes since commuters cannot choose which operator’s services to pursue when travelling. Perhaps it would be rather miraculous for us to expect SMRT and SBS Transit to put our interests over those of their investors for, at the end of the day, they are companies involved in a business. Another downfall of the whole idea of privatisation is observable from the way in which the Government has responded to falling standards – that is, to fine SMRT and SBS Transit for breakdowns or other instances of unreliability rather than directly controlling the upgrading of tracks and improvement of services. Once again, the PAP Government of the 21st century assumes that throwing money at an issue (or in this case, taking it) will almost magically make our problems fade away.

The nationalisation of public transport, on the other hand, offers a much more optimistic solution to the transport issues we face today since our experience in other nationalised services provides a useful template for such administration. Rather than using profit as a driving force of standards, direct government involvement in transport operation will allow the Government to regulate it more effectively to ensure that maintenance and upgrading are not put on the backburner so that standards will rise once again while commuters’ interests are put first. After all, public transport has evolved into a neccesity just as healthcare, housing and education are services that all Singaporeans ought to be able to enjoy. Singaporeans who need to work and study, whilst contributing to our economy and, ultimately, our society, simply cannot do without public transport on a daily basis. The challenge of nationalisation will, as usual, be the need to find enough money to fund and subsidise the upkeep of public transport without having to burden taxpayers even more. However, a variety of solutions have been thrown up from various sources such as pegging the salaries of statutory board officials to service standards, ensuring cost-effective use of money from Government coffers for subsidies amongst other methods of cost recovery and investment initiatives such as those used in the subsidising of healthcare and housing. Perhaps we could take a leaf from Hong Kong’s model of transport whereby the investment required for upgrading is derived from competition between private companies involved in infrastructure development rather than the operation of transit. Even if public transport fares increase initially, such an increase would be justified and the taxpayers’ money will be put to good use in the longer term as service standards can be controlled and assured by the Government. Hopefully, this will not have to be the case as before SBS Transit was privatised, it made ‘reasonable profits’, according to a transport policy researcher from the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy, NUS.

While a wholly-privatised or fully nationalised public transport system is hard to perceive as workable and cost-effective, the type of balance to be striked needs to be decided upon to ensure there are marked improvements in the state of public transport in Singapore. Do we wish to continue with the current partially government-funded, privately operated model or switch to a nationalised not-for-profit model? In any case, the unfairness entrenched in the current system that relies on profit-oriented companies for the operation of public transport will need to be addressed by better long-term planning, fiscal responsibility and decisive action by the Government of Singapore which are currently lacking. Hopefully, public transport will once again truly be for the public’s interests, allowing it to properly function as a modern, integrated and useful solution to traffic congestion in our island-nation and other geographical and environmental issues of our time.


LKY SPP (NUS). (2013). The evolution of public transport policies in singapore. Retrieved from

Singapore Department of Statistics. Government of Singapore, (2010). Census of population 2010. Retrieved from website:

Straits Times. (2014, January 16). Bus and train fare review: Public transport council announces fare increase of 3.2%. . Retrieved from

Divide and Rule


Technically speaking, my ethnolinguistic identity is a concoction of different ancestral roots for I am mostly Tamil and partially Telugu. Although it is with slight disappointment that I admit my incompetence in what may, for lack of a better linguistic term, be called my ‘minor’ Mother Tongue at all, it was with avid interest that I read about the fate of the Telugu-speaking state in India. Andhra Pradesh is a state of 84.6 million people in the south of India, east of the Deccan plateau, famous for being a hub of cultural activity and for religious tourism at its ancient temples. However, today, due to differences in political and economic prospects, the state is set to be split into 2 new states, albeit with great resistance due to legislative gridlock.

The ruling Congress Party and its coalition, the United Progressive Alliance (UPA) Government, have heeded the call from a sizeable number of Andhra Pradesh politicians in both the national and state governments to kick-start the process of breaking up the 3 regions of Andhra Pradesh into 2 states – Telangana and Andhra. Proponents of the separation cite the fact that an unequal distribution of economic resources within Andhra Pradesh have resulted in unfavourable prospects for the Telangana region as compared to Coastal Andhra. Historically, Coastal Andhra was more prosperous primarily because of its thriving agricultural sector which benefited more from the Green Revolution than the other parts of the state, providing a further impetus for growth. Another point worth noting is that the Telangana region has a higher percentage of people constitutionally classified under the Scheduled Castes and Tribes, explaining their unfair predisposition towards being stuck on the lower rungs of the socio-economic ladder. Hence, the first noticeable trend in the economic geography of Andhra Pradesh is its widening income and development gaps between regions that differ in the nature of their main industrial activities as well as socio-economic demography.

However, what is so uniquely fascinating about the case of Andhra Pradesh is the fact that the state capital, Hyderabad, is located within the Telangana region itself. Shouldn’t the most developed city in the state bring about positive economic influence for the region in which it lies? After all, Hyderabad is India’s 4th largest credit centre, with 90% of the urban workforce employed in the service sector. It also boasts of a wide array of transnational corporations (TNCs) in the IT sector, including big names such as Google, Yahoo and Facebook, that have set up research and development (R&D) centres there. However, the concentration of economic resources and generation of revenue in Hyderabad has been successful to the extent that peripheral districts in the Telangana region have not reaped many benefits from their geographical proximity to the core of the state. Coastal Andhra, on the other hand, has received what many argue is more than its fair share of investment from the state government despite being located further away. Hence, the case of Andhra Pradesh reflects that there is a limitation to the notion that economic resources and money flow to regions that are spatially closer to the core as government intervention comes into play, channelling these resources elsewhere instead.

The geopolitical implications of such a major division in the map of India are multi-faceted. Those who support separation have adopted the argument that Telangana will be better institutionally suited to deal with its own development problems by having its own state legislature that can have its own say in resource distribution and economic restructuring. But will this really be the case even with the Congress Party proposing an unconventional policy to make Hyderabad the capital of both the new states for 10 years (during which the newly reconstituted Andhra state will have time to establish a new capital possibly in Visakhapatnam)? In any case, the division will certainly alter the urban dynamics in present-day Andhra Pradesh and perhaps even the way we perceive solutions to the problem of uneven regional development within a country.

For now, although the Government of India has decided not to introduce the planned legislation to initiate the separation during the upcoming (and rather aptly named) Monsoon Session of the Indian Parliament, there are plans to do so within the next 6 to 8 months. When the Government of India decides to invoke the States Reorganisation Act, together with the approval of the state and national legislatures against a backdrop of public protests and political resignations the world’s largest democracy will prove, once again, that demography is dynamic.


In any case, the division will certainly alter the urban dynamics in present-day Andhra Pradesh and perhaps even the way we perceive solutions to the problem of uneven regional development within a country.


Joshi, S. (2013, August 01). Telangana bill not coming in monsoon session. The Hindu. Retrieved from

Reddy, A., & Bantilan, M. (2013). Regional disparities in andhra pradesh, india. Local Economy, 28(1), 123-135. Retrieved from

Somewhere At The End Of A River


In a way, a river’s estuary is its final definitive feature. It is a reflection of the past; its contents are a symbol of its erosive and depositional powers. Metaphorically speaking, I find myself at the end of a river – for I am a Hougang boy, and have been so for all my life.

Considering the etymology of ‘Hougang’ (which is Teochew for ‘river’s end’), I figuratively find myself at a river’s estuary because spending my most formative years in Hougang has certainly had an arguably noticeable impact on my perceptions and thoughts regarding certain issues.

Having fancied politicking for a good number of years now, life in Hougang not only involved being aware of municipal issues of the day but also the broader political significance of the area. In and by itself, Hougang is a geographically small area but due to the past actions of the Electoral Boundaries Review Committee (EBRC) appointed by the Prime Minister, some residents have found themselves living in one constituency whilst others have found themselves living a completely different one. As of 2011, the area had been split up into at least 4 constituencies – Hougang SMC, Bedok Reservoir – Punggol (of Aljunied GRC), Ang Mo Kio – Hougang (of Ang Mo Kio GRC) and Punggol South (of Pasir Ris – Punggol GRC). The intention of such awkward delimitation has been famously attributed to gerrymandering. So when a PAP MP came knocking on my door one day asking if I had any concerns about lift upgrading in Punggol South, I felt like telling him that I did have a bone to pick with that issue not just in my constituency but all across Hougang as well. I felt that it was unfair that residents of Hougang Street 51 could enjoy priority in national residential development programmes set up by the Housing and Development Board (HDB) whilst my fellow Hougang residents just a few roads down were denied that because of whom they voted for in the political process.

Equally, I daresay constituents of Hougang SMC have developed a sense of patriotism as well as a political identity that are unique to their neck of the woods. For every General Election from 1991 to 2011, the electors there were branded as political kingmakers in deciding whether there would be any Opposition representation in Singapore’s legislature. On the one hand, the Opposition hailed the people of Hougang SMC as having a broader national duty  whilst on the other hand, the incumbent Government party told Hougang residents that they would have a special place in the hearts of policy planners if and only if the PAP candidate had been elected. With a spotlight as bright as that in such a small area (made brighter by the by-election of 2012), one can only expect the people of Hougang to have a distinct identity of their own as far as political preferences go.

Thus, the geography of place and space is rather intriguing. It is apparent in the differences between living in a younger area like Punggol 21 as opposed to an older one like Mountbatten or those between living in an area further away from the Central Business District (CBD) like Sembawang rather than a place within walking distance of it such as Tanglin-Cairnhill. Hence, the variation of Singaporeans’ spatial identity is due to many reasons such as differences in socioeconomic status of residents, the age of the estates as well as the amenities and infrastructure available. In the case of Hougang, it just so happens that this variation has manifested itself in a political nature.

In any case, however, it can be concluded that people are shaped by their surroundings. The link between urban zoning and psychological perceptions is perhaps something that warrants further research by those well-versed with the social sciences.

As for me, nostalgia hit when I had to shift from Hougang to Sengkang in early 2013, assuming that my childhood home would forever remain as a collection of mere memories somewhere in the inner recesses of my mind. Rather ironically, however, the recent election of the Workers’ Party (WP) candidate in the 2013 Punggol East by-election has meant that local affairs in my new neighbourhood will now be managed together with those in the WP stronghold of Hougang. And so, the delta has expanded and I yet again find myself in this estuary known as Hougang.

“Places matter. Their rules, their scale, their design include or exclude civil society, pedestrianism, equality, diversity (economic and otherwise), understanding of where water comes from and garbage goes, consumption or conservation. They map our lives.”
― Rebecca Solnit, Storming the Gates of Paradise: Landscapes for Politics