Salma Khalik's take on the unvaccinated.

 

Salma Khalik meant it. She is serious about vaccination. She is ST’s Senior Health Correspondent. Her article poses this tough question: “Is it fair to discriminate against the unvaccinated?”

Well, on that discrimination part, yes. The hand of equity in this case rests on the pragmatic side. And if it is not already crystal clear, they are plainly being discriminated against. We don’t need to pretend they are not. The writing is all over the wall. The facts are this: those not vaccinated cannot “gather in groups of up to five people for activities like dining in and masks-off sports from August 10” - unless, of course, they are pre-tested within 24 hours of the event. 

Salma also noted there will be more different treatments between the vaccinated and unvaccinated in October, in favour of the former group in terms of identification, convenience and freedom. 

Salma writes: “So yes, they are being discriminated against, even as the choice of being vaccinated remains with them.” Salma then turned the table around to challenge those unvaccinated: “But instead of asking if this is fair to them, we should ask - are these people being fair to the rest of the nation?”

Well, we must know that there are currently three classes of unvaccinated people locally.

The first class are those under 12. There is currently no vaccine designed for them specifically. The second class are those not vaccinated for medical reasons. They have no choice. 

But Salma’s focus is not on them. It is the third class of people who, for personal reasons, just refuse to be vaccinated that Salma is singling out. They are the people who put many others at risk, in particular, the 1st and 2nd classes of people. 

By their refusal, and when they are infected, the subsidised health costs to treat them will inevitably be higher, since Covid-19 inflicts greater harm to those unvaccinated (For now, I don’t think there is any science that disproves that, mutant strain of Covid that is immune to the vaccination notwithstanding). 

So, this 3rd class of unvaccinated people will drain on the nation’s resources for their persistent self-held belief or refusal. 

The second consequence as spelt out earlier is that they may spread Covid to the more vulnerable, in particular, those with other serious medical conditions and are of an advanced age. 

At this juncture, Salma did clarify that “the vaccine does not give 100 per cent protection.” So, even the vaccinated, which also depends on the types of vaccine administered and their efficacy, will be infected. 

But, accordingly to statistics, the infection severity is very much reduced or attentuated. So, by extension of common sense, it costs less to treat them, that is, less number of days hospitalised, for the duly vaccinated. 

In fact, I read in ST yesterday that out of 566 infected patients, 8 of them are in serious condition. Out of that 8, 2 of them are vaccinated, and the rest are not. Mind you, as worldwide death toll shows, the infection for the unvaccinated may result in fatality. 

As for the vaccinated being carrier and spreading the coronavirus to the vulnerable, that is a possibility too. But I guess that would depend on the interaction between the vaccine and their immune system. 

Undeniably, there are still some questions seeking answers even for those duly vaccinated, and these questions extend to the different efficacies of the different brands of vaccination against the different mutant strains of Covid-19, delta or otherwise. 

But, if we place our stake on science and the government, which is clearly pro-vaccination, I trust the net benefit for society as a whole outweighs the cost. And isn’t that enough reason to put aside our personal reasons (or reservations) in favour of going for the jabs? Like ABBA croons, take a chance right?

In any event, Salma writes: “People who refuse to vaccinate put themselves at risk. But so long as vaccination is not compulsory, it is their choice to make. But we should not allow that freedom or choice to put others at risk.”

Lesson? Is there any but to go for the jabs? Do it for our nation’s overall health and well being? Stop pussyfooting around then. Well, I have received mine since end May and am certified clear in early June. So, I guess I did my national service? 

While I am fully vaccinated, I know of loved ones/friends who are not. Honestly, I cannot fully understand their reservation. But I respect their view. This is not me being liberal or a leftist. I just feel that they need more time. 

Of course, in an pandemic, time may be in short supply. Nevertheless, I let them be; to each his/her own. And didn’t our government take the enlightened pathway to make it non-compulsory?

Yet, unfortunately, I feel that society will progressively become divided, not just by income, race and religion, but now, by those vaccinated and those not vaccinated (as if we need another reason to deepen the social wedge, especially during such pandemic-driven, sensitive time, right?). 

Going back to the article, at the end of it, this is what Salma wrote with what, to me, seems like an umbrage-like advocacy: -

“In fact, Singapore should go one step further and not provide subsidised treatment, or insurance coverage, for people who can but refuse to get vaccinated, should they become infected with Covid-19. After all, their refusal to vaccinate is tantamount to a self-inflicted injury.”

Despite a reasonably informative article, those were literally her last words on the issue. And they echoed within me: “self-inflicted injury” and “not provide subsided treatment...insurance.” No less strong words I guess, and with accorded respect, words that may just drive the social wedge deeper. 

(Sigh) I know the government wants to give her citizenry the benefit of the freedom to choose and express. But at some point (in the future), I feel that we can’t possibly keep up the charade any longer when the walls of free choice are closing in on one group (unvaccinated) and opening up for the other group (vaccinated). 

And I also feel that going to the extent of denying subsidised treatment and insurance coverage (if even considered by the government) would be no different from making vaccination mandatory, or it may be an act of policy that wins the battle (outcome) but loses the war (hearts). 

Well, I say “yes”, go ahead and balance the right to protect the society for health reasons and the freedom of choice for individuals, but, such balance, once tilted too much on one side, becomes a laughing stock when we still tell ourselves that vaccination is not mandatory.

I also have to say that it may begin as a sincere attempt to balance different rights and that is a noble effort, which the nation can rally behind. But, as conditions change and the cost and benefit do not weigh up anymore, we have to adapt to them and take the least divisive road to draw people to vaccination without dividing them as a consequence. 

Mind you, there are many ways to make a horse drink, if pulling him by the reins is self-defeating. You can feed him salt and let natural thirst do your job. But to deny them (or by forfeiture) the essential medical/insurance services, because they need more time to consider, due to the novelty of the situation, may, in my view, defeat the goodwill/trust generated from the initial sincere efforts to balance different interests. 

I therefore end by saying that I trust that amongst the unvaccinated (for now), only a small percentage are of the sovereign kind, and for that reason, there is still hope to consider soft power of persuasion instead of hard ones. 

And let me just say that this is not about self-inflicted injury. It is about winning hearts, building trust, preserving our unity, and most of all, leaving no one behind. In other words, it is about self-denying choices for the common good of and for all. I earnestly believe we can all get there, in good time, eventually.

 

China cracking down on the tuition industry.

 

“Tuition doesn’t necessarily create successful people. It creates successful test-takers.”

Well, there’s some truth in there. That’s the strange thing about taking a test. When it becomes the main thing, where all our successes are measured by it, it ironically fails to measure what it was designed in the first place to measure. 

It is either the wrong benchmark to start with, like a ladder that leans on the wrong side of the wall. Or, it is no doubt a useful benchmark, but in an unequal society, the rule of the game gets rigged by those who can afford it to the advantage of their kids at the expense of other kids whose parents are unable to afford it. 

The reality is, as a nation, we are obsessed with measuring intelligence (because we think that is the most practical way to success). But it is the kind of intelligence that mainly aces academic assessments. It is to some extent one-dimensional (though I don’t deny its positive spillover effect). And no use denying it anyway, for that piece of paper generally determines where our kid will end up. Most times, grades are destiny.

Now, let me say that I have nothing against tuition. My kids go for tuition, selectively of course, that is, not all subjects. If you get a good one, you can see how they progressively improve. It works and it produces tangible, measurable results too. Most relevantly, it meets the benchmark set by a fiercely meritocratic society.

But, another reality is, the multi-billion tuition industry (in China, the investment reached $100b) is a creation of decades-long state policy. And that’s the busy hand of the market working its magic too. For where there is profit to be had, you can expect savvy businessmen to dive into it. 

And you may have regulations to ring-fence it, but human ingenuity, driven by a market mindset, will always find ways to thrive by poking those regulation loopholes (that is why President Xi is going cold turkey on them, forcing them to turn into a non-profit industry, thereby radically pulling the bling out of their zing). 

In any event, such relationship between a meritocratic state and its tuition industry is like the symbiotic relationship between the Nile Crocodile and the Egyptian plover or the Water Buffalo and the Oxpecker. 

Plover birds settle comfortably in the open mouth of crocodiles to pick up meat stuck in their teeth. The Crocs get a free cleaning and the plover, well, free lunch.

Same here with Buffalo and Oxpecker. The former allows the latter to nestle on them so that they pick up tics for food. For the Buffalo, it’s free grooming. 

So it is with the meritocratic state and its tuition industry - you provide the private education to the kids for a profit and I collect taxes from your gains. That kind of mutuality often goes unchecked because who wants to rock the boat when both are profiting from it, right? 

But overtime, both suffer from the myopia of excesses. That is where that quote comes in - “Tuition doesn’t necessarily create successful people. It creates successful test-takers.” 

When the test becomes the rule, the rule is inevitably stretched beyond proportionality. That’s where a deleterious form of obsession comes in and turns a noble industry into a race of intense competition just to meet ever-higher bar of academic excellence, thereby turning frantic registrations by parents who can afford into insane profit for the industry.

 

The collateral (or actual) damage? Well, it is usually the kids who are unwittingly turned into a means to an idolised end. 

Sure, the result is glorious, and those who are given heaps of tuition due to a socioeconomic advantage over the poorer kids will reap the full benefits. But what you eventually get from the myopia of excesses is an even more unequal society blighted by a gnawing misattribution, that is, one where we equate success with a one-trick pony, leaving all other equally worthy skills or talent by the wayside to fend for themselves. 

That kind of intense competition, like baby and the bathwater, tends to sideline those late bloomers indiscriminately, leaving a broken trail of potentially good achievers behind because they are seen as under-performers. You can thus see how some kids at that age under such stress and pressure can find life so meaninglessly bleak. 

Oh, before I forget, and before I drone further along by myself, the quote and the thought above are inspired by the article below written by former teacher Ng Shi Wen and Assoc Professor Gerard Sasges. It’s a thought-provoking article. Read it if you have time. A good morning digest if you are a parent. 

Going back, truly, every life has a lifelong capacity to grow. Underscore “lifelong”. Different kid, different leap. For some take the leap earlier, others later. And they all cover different distances in this lifelong journey. It’s no competition here. 

And like they said, if you want to go fast, go alone, but if you want to go far, go together. That’s another good quote for our society, especially the state, to bear in mind. 

Our children are born to excel at a pace that is not determinedly uniform. They are not cogwheels in an assembly line going at a pace preset against an unsympathetic meritocratic stopwatch. They are human beings yearning to connect, grow and explore with our understanding and support. 

Alas, we tend to celebrate youthful success but forget that true and enduring success comes to many at different ages. We should therefore celebrate ageless success too. And with a kinder clock of development, we, as a society, can go farther, much farther, because it is not about going at it alone, leaving many behind, but travelling together, leaving none behind.

 

KTV cover saga 1.

OYK is disappointed by the KTV cluster. 42 reported cases yesterday was linked the KTV cluster. 

He said: “While this is disappointing, we are also not entirely surprised that clusters like these will pop up.” 

(Well, I am two minds about him using the verb “pop”. I would rather he say, “have come to light” or “have emerged”). 

Anyway, memes online are abuzz with the news about commingling married/dating/single men and hostesses being infected by Covid-19. I am sure you have come across a few of them in your newsfeed “pop up”, right? 

But OYK is no less very troubled and disappointed by the latest cluster infection, as the govt has ““prohibited nightfalls activities involving “hostess services, dice games and all these” for more than a year because of the risk involved when people come into close contact.””

And in a deliberately dimmed environment like a KTV lounge situated along an equally dimmed KTV belt, you can expect Covid-19 to work its way with fluid efficiency on every horny guest and inviting hostess. 

Sure, where there is honey, you can expect busy bees. For our appetites once released, has to find satisfaction, and there are honey pots all around, if one bothers to look for them in hard-for-light-to-shine places. 

Indeed, when there is a will, there is a way, that is, a way for infection to pop up. 

Thus far, no places are spared the covid raid. You name it, restaurants, country clubs, workers’ dormitories, shopping centres, airport terminals, and even hospitals, where frontline fighters are pushing back the breach.

 

And yes, we can’t leave our churches out, a place where covid has also defiantly stepped onto holy ground with impunity. Covid is like the Midas’ touch, but in this case, wherever they rear their ugly head, the place is shut down (instead of turning to gold, it turns hollow). 

Yet, these places do not pose the same challenges as KTV lounges. Here’s why according to expert observers.

First, these places may be banned due to the pandemic, but you can’t legislate lust. We are all guilty of it. Men are often subdued by much lesser things, though their achievement reaches to the sky. 

And that’s where impulse control comes to his timely aid. Most men therefore take cold showers, huddle up with a private scripture reading session, or find solace in the familiar bosom of their marital partner or C&B dates. But, not everyone is able to wish away that carnal uprising. And that becomes the challenge of preventing/controlling the KTV clusters. 

Second, the issue is also with the supply side. Professor Teo Yik Ying said: “Even though these lounges were mainly serving food. I suspect a lot of the activities would be similar to those of nightclubs.” 

And those activities involve what is colloquially known as “butterfly”. The hostess, as unwitting carrier agent, flits from one cubicle to another, splitting her time between multiple guests, “who each pay her a sum of about $50 to $100 at the end of the night.” 

At times, in order to earn more, butterflies move between multiple nightclubs/KTV in one night, thereby “going to lounges that have more guests if their usual haunt sees lower patronage on certain night.” You can thus say that every successful pollination brings about a handsome remuneration. 

And thirdly, it centres around this quote by Seneca/Lucretius: -

“We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light”.

Dr Leong Hoe Nam observes: “...the KTV cluster could be a weak link in Singapore’s fight against Covid-19, especially since the hostesses and patrons may be trying to lie low, making it difficult for the authorities to ringfence those who are infected. Some hostesses could be working illegally.”

So, contact tracing is much harder in such places. Patrons (and hostesses alike) prefer to remain anonymous because of the shame associated with the activities they are engaging in. Hostesses would also not want to name names for fear that such leak would betray/expose her regular clientele, some of whom might be openly happily married.

Mind you, this is unlike going into a church to seek repentance, or for some, to bathe in the light of ostentatious redemption. This is however a place that is intentionally set dark to keep more than just the kids away; yet, it is heartily embraced by grown ups. 

That is where the above quote comes in, with stark metaphorical irony - “...the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light”.

So, I wish OYK all the best reining in the untethered appetites of men. And throwing the legal books at them is the most pragmatic solution; a technocratic go-to handbook for citizenry compliance. 

At times like this, maybe the hand of the law is more urgently needed over the heart of gracious reform. And if you can’t address the real tragedy of men who are afraid of the light, you just have to contend with the second best option of occasionally raiding the darkness with the shocking beam of the law.

 

8 hours of sleep for students.

 

8 hours sleep. That’s what our kids need. And three leading authorities have come forward to lend their weight to call for it.

First, the experts: Two associate professors Joshua Gooley and June Lo from Duke-NUS Medical School and Yong Loo Lin School of Medicine, and one professor from Yong Loo Lin too, namely, Michael Chee. 

They are internationally recognised sleep scientists and have used their findings and objective data to transforms lives all over. Their advice therefore ought to be given a listening ear to. Mind you, they are not talking in their sleep. 

Second, the issue. It comes in this number - 6.5 hours. That’s about how much our students on average are sleeping. It is reported that “eight hours is enough, but fewer than 15 per cent of secondary school students achieve this.”

Third, the solution? Well, start school later. Start at 8:30 am. 

And if traffic is an issue, which coincides with peak hours, then stagger the timing, lessen the curriculum, make arrangements for transport with appropriate transport apps and car-pooling. Whatever is to be done, bend the solution to fit (or solve) the problem, that is, by hook or crook, grant our kids 8 hours sleep. But, why? Why 8 hours?

Fourth, the benefits. “In a top secondary school in Singapore, an increase of about 20 minutes of sleep on school nights was associated with fewer depression symptoms and lower daytime sleepiness...it improves alertness and improved mood.” Enough said? 

Fifth, the lesson. 

I know what you are thinking, or at least some of you parents. In terms of PISA and other academic scores, our kids are way up there. We excel so well in those assessments, attaining international recognition, is there really a need to change what is not only not broken, but it is working superbly? 

Well, what’s working may not be what’s best for our kids. The question is, at what cost are we achieving it? Or, what is the long term effect? And most pertinently, is there a better way to excel without burning our kids out, risking mood swings, depression and possibly suicide?

And we are not without precedent here. An experiment was carried out in Nanyang Girls’ High School (“NYGH”). Here is what is reported by Julian Lim and Lee Su Mei in a recent CNA article.

“NYGH spent half a year in preparing to shift their start time. They went through many rounds of revising the curriculum before rolling out one that would allow school to end at around the same time without comprising curriculum coverage.” 

“They were aware of the potential impact on transport, so they surveyed their students to understand their transport situation and concerns. The school also monitored local traffic conditions before the change to determine how much of a delay would be tolerable.”

“In short, NYGH spent significant effort to figure out how to delay school start time in the most optimal, least disruptive way. The results from the experiment were clear: Students were happier, more alert and more positive about going to school.”

So, where there is a will, there’s a way? 

At this point, I hear the naysayers: How about kids sleeping later then, if you tweak the time to 8:30 am? In other words, wouldn’t they just sleep later since they can wake up later?

Well, the professors have got this covered. Here is their findings: “Across longitudinal studies where delayed start times of more than 30 minutes are provisioned for, later wake-up times have consistently been observed. Bedtimes either do not change or are delayed by a smaller amount, resulting in real gains in sleep time.”

What is noteworthy is that bedtimes do not change. And if delayed, not by much, and they still wake up later. So in the end, if we parents, teachers, principals and ministers do the maths, our children get MORE sleep when school starts LATER.

And another unplanned experimental outcome is that during lockdown, “secondary school children in Singapore obtained about 40 minutes more sleep...as compared with their usual (short) amount of sleep.”

What is a bonus here (to start school later) is that “when sleep was extended to eight hours, performance resembled having nine hours of sleep. This suggests that every few minutes closer to the recommended sleep duration (of 8 hours) is worth reclaiming.”

Sixth, is it time to act? 

Well, MOE will tell you that they have decentralised the decision to individual schools. It is therefore not mandatory, but discretionary. It’s up to them. 

However, most schools are not acting on it. It is too much of an administrative disruption, and they rather sleepwalk through it or hold on to their more familiar security blanket, unless of course, as the three professors suggested, MOE makes it a law, similar to the laws requiring us to wear masks, keep a safe distance, and observe numbers at public places. 

Seventh, I always feel that as the population increases, we manage the masses by way of manicuring a culture via proper rules and regulations. How we organise society as a whole can affect its outcome, even the unintended effects arising from such structure or culture. 

For example, if you want policy holders to continue with their insurance policies, just tweak the option to renew section, and inform them that if they don’t do anything about it, the policy will renew itself automatically, thereby assuming that acquiescence is implied permission. 

By changing the option, you change the behaviour, en mass, for good or for bad. Likewise with schools and the long term health of our children. 

Inertia comes with its own resistance and also its own unintended consequences too. Before long, we become a byproduct of our enforced or entrenched culture. In schools, that entrenched, routinised culture is starting assembly at 7:30 am sharp, risking mental health issues in the long run, or forfeiting its benefits by default. 

If we know the benefits for our children are real, proven and enduring, and don’t worry, they will still continue to do well in PISA to maintain that international recognition, if not better, without sacrificing their mental well-being, then why are we not fighting the real enemy here, that is, inertia?

For all it takes is to push it back to 8:30 am (by order of parliament - if that’s what it takes) and everything over time will eventually adjust itself to it like cultural lemmings on a march, and then we can sit back and enjoy the better results, the happier kid, the less hectic schedule, the better absorption in class, the keener sense of learning, and most importantly, the better mood, for the most optimal social effect and benefits. What’s there to lose? 

Alas, there is no eighth lesson here. We don’t need any more, and one more would not make any difference. For enough has been said and done about it. Now, it’s time to act?

 

Gangtang's 27 years' search for his son.

 

I wonder, what does it take to feel like a father for some of us?

Well, for Guo Gangtang, 51, it took him 24 years of searching for his son, riding on his motorbike, and covering more than 500,000 across China. Yes, 24 years of unrelenting search, you heard it right. 

In 1997, Guo Zhen (Xinzhen) was abducted in front of the family home in Shandong, “where he was playing unattended...Traffickers snatched the boy and sold him to a family in central China.” He was only 2.5 years old then. 

Guo Zhen, now 26, was found via a DNA test and that ended Gangtang’s 24 years search, where he quit his job, “and criss-crossed the country on a motorbike with large flags bearing his son’s photo tied to the back.”

It is reported that “since launching a DNA database of missing family members in 2016, police said they have helped more than 2,600 individuals kidnapped as children – some more than 60 years ago – to find their biological parents.”

Mind you, the father’s search for his boy had garnered much nationwide and worldwide attention. Andy Lau even starred in a movie about Gangtang’s 24-year quest titled “Lost and Love.” 

Andy played Gangtang. And Andy was “extremely happy and inspired” to hear the news that Gangtang had found his son.It was a tear-soaking moment for Gangtang and his wife, when they hugged their son, who is now a teacher living in central province Henan. 

Gangtang exclaimed: “Now the child has been found, everything can only be happy from now on.”

It is also reported that “across the years, Guo has helped seven other families find their lost children and raised awareness about child trafficking – still a taboo topic in China.”

Lesson? One.

China’s one child policy has taken its toll on the soul of millions of parents. It has also resulted in untold pain to grieving mothers who have to standby to watch their own newborn daughter being put to death or abandoned, just so that the tradition of having a son to carry the family name would be realised, by hook, crook, or worse, infanticide. 

What’s more, by 2020, the gender imbalance was unthinkable, with 30 to 40 million surplus men. That is more than five times the population here. “In China at the time of the policy shifted to two-child policy, a staggering 119 boys were born for every 100 girls.” (The global average is 105 boys to every 100 girls). 

I write about this Nemo-like search for one’s son this morning because I can’t imagine the depth of love and devotion Gangtang had for his son, that is, in the 24 years of searching for him. He once told the Chinese media this: “Only by hitting the road looking for my son, do I feel I am a father.” 

Imagine giving up a quarter of a century of your life to embark on this quest, putting your son’s face on a flag, and travelling more than 500,000 km, without even knowing whether your baby (you knew for only 2.5 years) could ever be found. 

Imagine even further another love - if love is the right word. This time the love of another “father” who had bought your abducted son for a price and then raising him up as his very own, caring for him over the next 24 years, presumably hiding the truth from him, and refusing to come to terms with the real possibility that you as his biological father have never given up looking for him, travelling all over China, having to battle highway robbers, sleeping under bridges and even begging when your money ran out, just so as to fulfill that one wish to reunite with your only son. 

Well, juxtapositioning the two ironies together makes for such fact-is-stranger-than-fiction reality that my mind (as a father myself) cannot fully wrap around, can you? 

At this poignant moment, I came across the words of author Li Yiyun: -

“Being a mother (or father) must be the saddest yet the most hopeful thing in the world, falling into a love that, once started would never end.”

Indeed, some love is forever. Amidst the unspeakable pain is the unspeakable joy of a hope that never dies. 

Truly, I am so glad Gangtang and his son have reunited. And as he said, ““Only by hitting the road looking for my son, do I feel I am a father.” 

He is one father who never really knew his son, never saw the various milestones of growth in his young life, and was never able to touch and hug him to say “I love you so much”. In fact, that journey he took was the closest thing to fatherhood to him. And sadly, his son will never fully understand that love that never dies, but was nevertheless a love that inspired many fathers (and mothers) to never take their own child for granted. 

It is a love that reminded us daily as fathers that we should always treasure our journey with our kid, because it is a journey not solely of the imagination and hope, but one where we are fortunate enough to witness, embrace and celebrate every critical crossroad of their growth and overcoming, as one family.

 

Why is it OK to be mean to the ugly?

Is it OK to be mean to the ugly? 

Let me tell you an encounter. I went to NTUC recently and standing there was a young male adult with long flowing hair chatting up a young lady, with nice features, and shapely too. 

They seemed to be in the flow of things, with body language like tuning fork. Oh, the young man was supposed to ensure that patrons tap in with their TraceTogether app and record their temperature. 

Then, comes me; the dull looking, visibly hunch and bespectacled man of 51 years old - recently spotted with an unsightly tummy. I was there to buy newspapers. 

And as I approached the young man, I realised I didn’t bring my handphone and couldn’t tap in. So, I asked him for a favour. I asked him whether he could buy the papers for me. I said I can pass him the money as I wait outside. 

He took a quick glance at me and said, “no, no.” That was it. He then returned to the conversation with the lady. They were talking about why it is important to bring one’s TraceTogether app, reminding me to bring it the next time. I smiled and nodded, can’t argue with that. And they returned to other topics, chatting heartily. 

I decided to go to 7-11 to get my morning fix instead. I find the attendants there more to my age. And we click better. 

As I walked away, with their giggling behind me, I wonder, if I had been more attractive, less physically challenged, will I get the favour I wanted? 

I guess it is what it is. And, the lesson? 

Well, I should have brought my TraceTogether app...what was I thinking. That young man was just doing his job...and stop wondering Mike. If you were any uglier, with a TraceTogether app, he will still let you in, so you can get that darn morning paper, and walk out with your head held high. 

This brings me to the paper this morning, written by the effervescent David Brooks, titled “Why is it OK to be mean to the ugly?”

He wrote: “This is puzzling. We live in a society that abhors discrimination on the basis of many traits. And yet one of the major forms of discrimination is “lookism”, prejudice against the unattractive. And this gets almost no attention and sparks little outrage. Why?”

(I believe at this point, all the unattractive people reading that line, me included, are saying a good amen to that). 

Well, it is what it is, right? Who can resist taking a second and third look at something or someone beautiful? 

With a better informed and educated population, we can say that we are now less superficial, and going for natural beauty. But the ugly reality is that we spend a whole lot of unnatural effort and time sprucing up for that look of natural beauty. 

One model said that to achieve natural beauty, she has to spend about two hours and two hundred dollars. Alas, even going for that plain humble look costs a lot. 

So, what is beauty anyway? 

It’s commensurability. It’s proportionality. And if you have every body part that is correspondingly matching, with one side of the face symmetrical with the other side, and curves and muscles studiously congregating at the right places, with the right height to boot, you will be honoured or rewarded in our society with, as David Brooks puts it, likeability (esp. from jury and future employers), competency, intelligence, first-class treatment, employment at first glance (I mean, first interview), earn much more, and wildly adored with thousands of “Likes” (tell me, which member of BTS is ugly?).

And we all know about power play. One sure fire way to boost up your image is for a CEO or leader to be seen surrounded by high heeled attractive staff. That is what I call value adding, or value flogging. 

But, let me end with another encounter. It is in a book “Survival of the Prettiest” by Nancy Etcoff. It is about a famous author Mary Ann Evans. You know her by her pen name, George Eliot. A brilliant writer indeed, but she was called “hideous” and “ugly”. 

And of all the charming gentlemen in the world, she fell in love with Herbert Spencer, “a man who wrote tracts about the importance of physical beauty.” 

He refused to marry her because of her looks. Yet, George Eliot stayed with him till his death. Eventually, as an old woman, she married a handsome man twenty years younger than her. And it is undeniable that Eliot wrote “some of the most profound novels in the English Language.”

Henry James met her in her fifties and this is what he wrote about her to his father: -“She is magnificently ugly - deliciously hideous. She has a forehead, a dull grey eye, a vast pendulous nose, a huge mouth, full of uneven teeth, and a chin and jaw-bone quo n’en finnissent pas...Now in this vast ugliness resides a most powerful beauty which, in a few minutes, steals forth and charms the mind, so that you end as I ended, in falling in love with her.”

He added: “”She conveyed an underlying world of reserve, knowledge, pride, and power. She has a larger circumference than any woman I have ever seen.””

This is what Eliot said: “All honour and reverence to the divine beauty of form! Let us cultivate it to the utmost in men, women and children - in our gardens and in our houses. But let us love that other beauty too, which lies in no secret of proportion but in the secret of deep human sympathy.”

Well, deep human sympathy it is. For the unattractive, there is always that depth we can develop, that resilience we nurture, and that shared humanity of brokenness, even the most beautiful amongst us cannot escape from. 

Yes, beauty is skin deep, ugliness may be bone-deep, but that shared broken humanity is soul deep. It will of course take time to cultivate within us, and to know another beyond his/her appearance. 

And maybe, if that NTUC attendant gets to know me, if we too share a dialogue together, he might just spare the time to do me that favour after all, and buy me that paper.