First up, thank you, thank you, thank you. We owe Teo You Yenn a huge thank you: there's been a fair bit of good writing, good producing and good discussion relating to inequality in Singapore (i.e. CNA's wonderful series "Don't Call Us Poor"; numerous articles, speeches on meritocracy and its discontents by various people from all walks of life - Donald Low, Bilahari Kausikan, etc etc.), but I think This Is What Inequality Looks Like is a piece that brings together these scattered conversations, grounds them in empirical, ethnographic experience and presented in writing that's meant for the general public and not just academics. There is something to be said about opening this debate and grounding it in a form of a book: I think (and hope) that the materiality of a physical book can lend permanence to this debate, and, if its sales in Kinokuniya are anything to go by, I hope this book becomes a permanent fixture on the bookshelf of many, many upper and middle-income families that serves as a constant reminder, that This Is What Inequality Looks Like: the privilege of owning a book that sits on a bookshelf; the privilege of having such a book be the closest that many of us will ever encounter to the real, lived, embodied experience of precarity.
I gather that part of what makes This Is What Inequality Looks Like so good and so important is perhaps the way it reveals the realities of inequality and poverty in Singapore, but personally, there is nothing in the book that I found particularly surprising. I don't think you need this book or to be a sociologist to intuit that meritocracy in Singapore works better for the privileged, or to notice that construction workers are almost exclusively low-paid foreign workers, or that our elderly are disproportionately pushed into low-paying jobs as cleaners, cardboard collectors, or that in many of our homes it is the bodies of low-paid foreign domestic helpers that bear the hard, back-breaking domestic labour. But I think it is one thing to notice a fact and another altogether to hold it constantly in our consciousness: to consistently remind ourselves in our comfortable, air-conditioned existence that our easy and comfortable experience comes at a price that isn’t fully paid by us; to not let the hawker centre aunties who struggle to clear our plates fade into the background of our meals. Inequality is perhaps the child Singapore hides in our dark basement who we’d much rather forget. This Is What Inequality Looks Like forces us to stare squarely in the face of this child and reckon with its existence, and that is why even though nothing in the book is particularly surprising, even though the writing is lucid and easy to understand, it is not a particularly easy or comfortable read to push through at times, and I think it is exactly unveiling this discomfort that is Teo Yeo Yenn’s project.
If, as Teo Yeo Yenn points out, the project of knowledge production is necessarily one that is situated – influenced by subjectivities and biases brought about by the habitus of each researcher – so is the project of knowledge consumption. I read this from the perspective of someone who’s lucky enough to have benefitted from the Singaporean education system and who has had some limited experience interacting with residents of rental blocks whom Teo You Yenn interviews, and the chapters relating to the education system reminded me of an experience back in secondary school when we were running tuition programmes for children struggling with their schoolwork as 13, 14-year olds and thinking that what we do in those tuition sessions were pretty useless in the grand scheme of things, because there’s just no way we could possibly tackle the underlying structural problems which characterise the root of the these problems. I haven’t thought about my experience back then for a while now, mainly because I still don’t really know what’s the best way to make sense of it. Back in secondary school and in the formal education system, we talk about volunteering projects as “service-learning” projects and for a good couple of years I didn’t know how to make sense of what I saw and experienced as anything but a “learning” experience, which I now cringe at because there is something clearly inadequate in understanding people’s lives only as a life-lesson for yourself – as a teacher once pointed out, people don’t exist to teach you lessons for your benefit: they exist on their own terms and they should be understood and related to as such.
So, reading This Is What Inequality Looks Like brings me back to this discomfort and confusion in a deeply personal way, during a time of my life at which this serves as a profoundly timely reminder. I have spent the last two years or so studying politics, sociology and anthropology in an overseas academy. I have read and heard of some of the foreign academic works (i.e. Bourdieu, Piketty, Standing, Sitglitz) Teo Yeo Yenn cites in her book, written essays about class inequality and disparity in the UK and gotten involved in an assortment of ad-hoc ways with the highly visible problem of homelessness and inequality in the city where I study in. But it has been a while since I’ve properly reckoned with the realities of these same problems in the place I call home, and I think that’s something which once again speaks to my privileged positioning: the privilege of being able to write, think and act, about these issues as though they are foreign issues but not issues of home and at home, because what I have come to associate and understand as home – with all its comforts and conveniences that I miss when I am overseas – are so far and distantly removed from the conditions of precarity that I don’t think about how the same issues which weigh heavy in the city where I study in weigh similarly heavy in the place I consider home.
I am back in Singapore this summer for the longest period since I started university for an internship. It has been a long time since I have been back for so long, and I honestly looked forward to coming home. I thought about the ways in which I could express the sense of homesickness and longing I had for home, and I think I was very much tempted by a very romanticised version of what coming home meant: just thinking about food, for instance, the sheer diversity of food, the cheap hawker centre food, the latest food trends, etc. etc. But thinking about this from the position of someone who is able to appreciate the diversity of food, someone who is able to afford, purchase and consume practically at will, is to perhaps forget that actually so much of what I love about home is a pernicious consequence of inequality: we all know that our hawkers are terribly underpaid; not everyone can afford to walk into the latest cafés and the very fact that I can is almost directly a result of the same structural forces that make it so hard for others.
I wish I read this book earlier: I really, really wish I did. Because it would have served as a much timelier and earlier rude awakening to the image I have of home. But I am very thankful that at least this was one of the first books I picked up upon coming home, because having read this, I can’t think of a better or more appropriate way to think about what it means for me to come home; what it means for home to have me. While studying overseas, I know I am in a sheltered, privileged bubble, but in the day-to-day business and stresses of academic life, that consciousness often fades into the background. I think coming home should mean stepping out of that bubble; thinking about the relation of home to that bubble; and I owe this book a huge debt in pushing me to do that.
*****
A couple of thoughts relating more to the academic, methodological aspects of the book that don't fit in with the main thrust of the review: I think it is clear that this is a book written by a sociologist and directed at the general public as a audience, but I hope that one day perhaps Teo You Yenn can do back to her ethnographic material and data and rework it into a more academic and perhaps anthropological piece of work work. I say this perhaps from the perspective of someone studies anthropology, but what I have come to love about anthropology is precisely the way in which ethnography tends to feature front and centre - the best anthropologists use ethnography as empirical evidence to reveal conclusions / challenge common theoretical frameworks / assumptions, instead of working the other way back in. I can see how This Is How Inequality Looks Like works as a sociological work directed at the general public, but there are actually many moments when I wished there was more attention paid to the ethnographic details - for instance, Teo Yeo Yenn mentions a couple of times that it was the ethnographic method and the process of doing fieldwork that forced her to challenge her preconceptions: I would have given much for her to provide more extended examples, of what exactly these experiences were, and what exactly those preconceptions were. I am also curious as to how her interlocutors think about their own situation, and perhaps the ways in which different interlocutors may be in similar socio-economic positions but conceive of their situations differently. Given the runaway success of This Is What Inequality Looks like, it would also be meaningful to return to the same group of interlocutors and see how they make sense of this national conversation about inequality that has taken on a life of their own when it is, ostensibly, triggered by Teo Yeo Yenn’s experiences of their lived lives. I am aware that perhaps such a project might detract from the main argument that Teo Yeo Yenn wants to make, and perhaps lessen the effectiveness of This Is What Inequality Looks Like as an academic work which acts as a intervention into the public debate about inequality, but I do believe in the merit of such anthropological work, and I hope that either Teo Yeo Yenn, or subsequent academics can engage in such an endeavour. Given that it is Teo's intention as well, for This Is What Inequality Looks Like to signal a beginning of a conversation rather than to have the last word on inequality, I think such a project would be highly in keeping with the spirit of the book, even if - and perhaps, especially if - it may go on to challenge some of the slightly taken-for-granted assumptions which Teo marshalls to make her argument here: theoretically / methodologically for instance, Teo draws heavily upon Bourdieu who has been critiqued for being slightly Marxist and overly deterministic in his framework of capital. I felt like Teo's work falls a little bit into this trap, especially in the last chapter, where it seems to me that she takes the category of "class" much more for granted than she does with "race", even though class is really just as much produced as race (albeit in very different ways!). This is not to say that Bourdieu is not good and therefore This Is What Inequality Looks Like is not good: on the contrary, I think Bourdieu's framework is a brilliant way for us to reckon with inequality in Singapore, and part of what I enjoyed so much in this book is precisely the fact that it has taken academic and theoretical debates based in the West and centred it in Singapore. But I do think that perhaps for future, more overtly academic works which draw upon This Is What Inequaltiy Looks Like, it can be productive and good to perhaps look at other ways of conceiving inequality beyond a Bourdieuian framework, or to employ Bourdieu with a greater acknowledgement or appreciation of the way that he has been critiqued too.