There’s a belief that’s inculcated in me that art thrives in chaos. And when I visited Singapore, everything was the opposite of clutter: it was clean, organized, and seemingly devoid of entertainment or artistic expression. However, I realize now that I was mistaken. In my naïveté, I compared it to Manila, as I went there immediately after my very first trip to Singapore.
In a 2017 Instagram post, I said: “I swear I would never live in Manila, but I have always enjoyed walking its streets and indulging in all of the “beauty” it offers. It is one of the worst capitals in the world, we all know that, but we can’t deny how rich its culture is, and how the dirty tricks of the devil paved the way to its current “magic,” albeit all its turmoils. Unlike a utopia like Singapore, Manila’s dystopia, for me is still the dope (and more inspiring) one.
Part of this absurd notion may stem from insecurity and an unwillingness to confront my shadow as a Filipino, living in denial of harsh truths that are difficult to accept.
When I first arrived in Singapore, I wasn’t particularly stunned. I’ve always viewed it as an accessible ASEAN neighbor, especially since having a Philippine passport makes it challenging to visit visa-required countries. However, entering Singapore was straightforward. Despite its status as a first-world country, I didn’t find it to be elusive or exclusive. It’s not like Japan or South Korea, which seem more difficult to navigate due to the requirement of having saved enough money and presenting my Income Tax Return to prove I can afford to travel there.
Another reason is that Singapore has a more fiscal nature; it is filled with skyscrapers, and even when watching TV, I only see its concrete landscape, cleanliness, and orderliness. I withheld the fact that it is actually a colorful and vibrant place, particularly in areas like the bustling streets of Arab and Indian neighborhoods, or the beauty of its somewhat hidden countryside. As a pop culture and entertainment enthusiast, I can also indulge in music and arts in ways similar to what I have access to in Manila.
Reflecting on my 2017 Instagram post, I notice a lot of contrasts. I romanticized Manila and expressed a love for its chaotic nature, yet I also stated that I would never want to live there. My reasons are clear: high crime rates, traffic congestion, environmental degradation, poor urban planning, and a lack of public transportation. When comparing Manila to several other cities throughout the Philippines, many people would prefer their less populated and cleaner hometowns.
Singapore is the complete opposite of Manila. And by virtue of my shadows or traumas, I romanticized the latter.
Let’s use a metaphor.
Imagine you’re someone consistently dating the same type of person: chaotic, disorganized, and non-committal. You love them deeply because they are raw, exciting, and full of thrilling roller coaster moments, and you find yourself addicted to that excitement.
The world offered you a chance to date someone who is clean, orderly, and disciplined, but not willing to indulge your childishness. Your friends say this person is perfect for you and that their strong sense of discipline will positively impact your life. However, you decided to break up with them because you felt they weren’t the right fit and you don’t enjoy being straightened out or commanded. You still love partying and engaging in exciting activities, and you find them too boring for your lifestyle. You realize you aren’t ready for that kind of relationship.
Choosing a certain type of partner often indicates that you are wired to seek high levels of excitement, similar to how a gambler behaves. In psychology, the types of partners we choose can reflect our self-perception. If we feel “messy” or “childish” within ourselves, being with a more disciplined person may lead us to feel inadequate.
The Price of Peace: Why We Fear the Orderly Partner
Choosing the “orderly partner” or the Singaporean model, represents a surrender. It requires you to show up, be vulnerable, and grow. But it also requires you to be quiet.
If Manila is the chaotic person who lets you smoke in bed and scream at the moon, Singapore is the partner who has already ironed your clothes for tomorrow and set a 5:00 AM alarm. It’s objectively better for your health, your future, and your stress levels. But in that quiet, climate-controlled apartment, you start to notice the silence. And you wonder: Is it peaceful, or is it just muted?
When we call Singapore “boring,” we are often operating from a place of immense privilege. For someone struggling with Manila’s “dystopia,” the gridlock, the crime, the literal inability to breathe the air, boring is almost like a miracle. Boring means the water is potable. Boring means the bus arrives at 8:02 because it said it would.
The “Pruned” Garden of Soft Authoritarianism
In Manila, art is a weed; it grows through the cracks of broken sidewalks, fueled by desperation and a lack of permission. It is wild, offensive, and urgent.
In Singapore, art is an orchid. It is heavily funded, curated, and placed in magnificent structures like the Esplanade. It is beautiful, but it is managed.
Singapore’s governance is built on a specific pact: The Competence Trade-Off, or what many call the Singapore Social Contract. The Singaporean “Social Contract” is a pragmatic, performance-based legitimacy where, in the words of Cherian George in his work, “Air-Conditioned Nation,” the ‘noise’ of dissent is traded for the ‘comfort’ of competence.” It’s an agreement where the citizenry trades certain civil liberties and political contestation for a high-functioning, safe, and prosperous society.
Unlike Western models that prioritize individual expression, this pact operates on the belief that collective stability is the prerequisite for progress. In this framework, the government acts as a “disciplined partner,” delivering world-class infrastructure and economic security, while the public provides a high degree of compliance and trusts the state to act as a paternalistic overseer of national interests.
Maintaining this contract requires navigating “OB Markers” (Out-of-Bounds markers), the invisible, shifting boundaries of acceptable public discourse. While citizens are free to critique policy efficiency, they are expected to avoid “fault lines” like race, religion, or direct attacks on the integrity of government leadership. Because these markers are not explicitly codified, they foster a culture of self-censorship, particularly in the press, which is viewed as a “constructive partner” in nation-building rather than a traditional watchdog. This effectively trades the “noise” and friction of dissent for a curated, orderly environment where harmony is prioritized over the messiness of absolute press freedom.
Singapore’s Country Report 2026 on Bertelsmann Stiftung states that “Singapore has traded democracy for wealth and embraced a way of life in which civil liberties have become casualties of economic development.” It highlights that criticism of state policies is often interpreted as criticism of the system itself, making it difficult to calibrate policy through public dissent.
The Atlantic Council also recently noted that this ‘tight coupling’ of state and market is what creates the speed we admire, but it also places the government at the center of every daily choice. It’s the institutional version of that ‘orderly partner’ who pays the bills but also decides exactly how the furniture should be arranged.
Does a Country like the Philippines Need Soft Authoritarianism?
In his book “Development as Freedom,” Amartya Sen argues that poverty itself is the ultimate “un-freedom that deprives people of the basic capability to lead a human life. While we often debate the trade-off between discipline and liberty, Sen reminds us that for the poor, the ‘freedom’ to not starve is the most fundamental right of all.
As a country stuck in bad systems with high poverty rates, the Philippines should adopt Soft Authoritarianism. For a third-world country, freedom is an entirely different concept. Many of my fellow countrymen cannot even sustain the bottom two of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs (Physiological and Safety). Hence, trading off certain “freedoms” for soft authoritarianism would be truly worth it for the Philippines.
If a government is filled with corrupt leaders working under the influence of an oligarchy, soft authoritarianism will not succeed; instead, it will lead to further decline for the country. The Philippines needs systemic change, adopting policies that prioritize the welfare of the people rather than serving the interests of oligarchs and powerful elites. This means that essential public services, such as water and electricity, should be reclaimed by the government, and oligarchs and billionaire businesses should be held accountable. Doing this can empower leaders who genuinely care about the betterment of their citizens and the nation as a whole.
The Soft Authoritarian model suggests that too much contestation, too many voices, protests, and media cycles of outrage, is a waste of energy. It is “inefficient.” The argument suggests that if it was effective in the once-chaotic and undisciplined environment of Singapore, it could also be applied to the Philippines.
I will discuss specific instances of inefficiency in the Philippines that need to be addressed, as well as the necessity for people to be guided toward a more effective approach.
My sister, who is a government doctor, is currently feeling stressed at work. She has mentioned that dealing with overly emotional individuals who have a victim mindset, along with a lack of logic and common sense, makes it difficult for her to maintain her empathy. My sister is not a bully; in fact, we were raised to be empathetic and to respect people regardless of their status. However, I understand that interacting with those who are challenging to deal with — those who remain trapped in their own limited perspectives and resist following a more effective path — can be very frustrating. The recent issue in her office involves a lot of people undermining the law, and the media oversensationalizing the incident.
In 2012, a particularly stressful incident occurred involving my late father, who was the city’s only medico-legal officer responsible for signing all death certificates for residents. There was one certificate he could not sign due to incomplete and questionable information, and signing it would jeopardize his medical license. It was simply the right thing to do, as dictated by law, leaving no room for emotion. Despite this, people began to pressure him to sign it, attempting to manipulate him and make him feel guilty until he could no longer bear the burden. Ultimately, he lost his cool and tear up the unsigned death certificate.
My father was strategically wrong for losing composure, but he was legally right. The media eventually uncovered the situation, and without any proper inquiry or research, they passed harsh judgment on him, ostracizing him for several weeks. It became a huge issue. The negative coverage only ceased when the then-mayor commented on the issue on his weekend show, declaring that my father’s actions were justified. After that, the outrage faded, and everything returned to normal. Ultimately, my father was in the right; if he had given in to the pressure, he would have lost his medical license.
It’s not just about control. Many professionals understand the difference between right and wrong, making decisions based on the law rather than emotions, public opinion, or personal agendas. It takes a strong person to prioritize doing what is legally right over being liked by others, even when their actions may not align with popular beliefs.
The victim mentality that some people display is understandable. As someone from the middle class, I recognize that they are not to blame for their mindset. I feel privileged to have a mindset of accountability. I know when I am at fault, and I refuse to be a doormat for others’ issues. I will criticize when I see something wrong, but it’s important to find a balance in doing so.
I believe that implementing a “soft authoritarian” approach in my country could significantly improve the situation and drive growth. However, it requires a level of maturity that many people are still trying to develop, as their hearts often lean towards chaos.
The Problem with Calling Singapore “Boring”
Ultimately, the problem with calling Singapore “boring” is that it reveals more about our own dysfunctions than it does about their governance. We use the word “boring” as a defense mechanism. It is a coping strategy for those of us coming from places where the “excitement” is actually just a lack of safety, and the “soul” is often just a romanticized byproduct of systemic failure.
When we cling to the “chaos” of a place like Manila, we are often just clinging to the familiarity of our own survival instincts. We are like that person who can’t stay in a healthy relationship because they’ve mistaken high cortisol for high passion.
But there is a second, more uncomfortable problem with the word.
Singapore has solved the physical problems of the 20th century: housing, transport, safety, with terrifying precision. But the “Soft Authoritarian” trade-off suggests that the price of this perfection is a flattening of the cultural texture.
Now, maybe that’s what makes Singapore boring. They are done with fixing, and have almost become utopian. In Manila’s dystopia, the story is still being written. There is a sense that anything could happen: a revolution, a collapse, a sudden burst of genius in the middle of a flood. There is “magic” there because there is room for the unexpected. Singapore, by design, has eliminated the unexpected. It has traded the “dope” thrill of the gamble for the guaranteed return on investment.
So, is Singapore boring? Yes. In the same way that a hospital that works perfectly is boring. In the same way that a bank vault that doesn’t get robbed is boring.
The real question isn’t whether Singapore can produce more “soul” or “chaos.” The question is whether we, the observers, are brave enough to admit that we want the safety of the “orderly partner,” even if we spend our whole lives complaining that they’re less of the “thrill.”
We call it boring because we aren’t yet ready to face the responsibility of a life where the system actually works. Because once the trains run on time, you no longer have an excuse for being late to your own life. And that is the most terrifying “order” of all.
References and Sources:
- George, C. (2020, March). Air-Conditioned Nation Revisited: Essays on Singapore Politics. Ethos Books. https://www.airconditionednation.com/
- Yang, T. P. (2002).
Boundaries of Socio-Political Discourse in the Singapore Media: The Out-Of-Bounds
(OB) Markers. Edith Cowan University. https://ro.ecu.edu.au/theses_hons/912 - Singapore Country Report 2026. (2026). BTI Transformation Index. https://bti-project.org/en/reports/country-report/SGP
- Lim, L. (2026, January 9). Singapore must shift from state-led expansion to productivity-led growth. Atlantic Council. https://www.atlanticcouncil.org/in-depth-research-reports/report/singapore-must-shift-from-state-led-expansion-to-productivity-led-growth/
- McLeod S. (2026, February 6). Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. SimplyPsychology. https://www.simplypsychology.org/maslow.html
- Selzer, C. and Plotte, B. (2021, September). Soft Authoritarianism. up2date. https://up2date.uni-bremen.de/en/article/soft-authoritarianism
- Sen, A. (1999). Development as Freedom. Oxford University Press. https://www.bol.com/nl/nl/f/development-as-freedom/30166053/
The featured photo of this article was sourced from Mike Enerio from Unsplash.
