If I could say something about modern Singapore society, which is to say, the class of relatively affluent Singaporeans in general, I would say that there is something a little bit hollow about our lives. What, after all, is our substance? In many ways we were made in one man's image; what we think good is what has been taught to us, and we have been encouraged, rewarded in many ways for continuously striving to that ideal. That ideal - the irony of that word being used for us - for Plato the Ideal could be virtue, or beauty, or goodness, which perhaps were to him different ways of appreciating the same thing, i.e. the Good that our wisdom can see; for us the Ideal is in good jobs, the accumulation of wealth, property and material joy, material self-esteem. Many things now, in hindsight, are taken quite mechanically as means to certain ends, for example, the love of learning, respect for others, observance of laws and mores - would that we would still act in virtuous ways when we see no profit in doing so!
The hollowness, can you feel it? It's everywhere you turn. Of course you could say that modern urban life is inherently solitary, family and some friends, but besides that everyone looks after their own. Where is the village, who are our neighbours now, in the greater sense of those who we can exchange kindnesses with? I cannot see those. And what is the opposite of hollowness? I suppose, a fullness, isn't it? Of the joys of reading, of appreciation of music and the arts, of the fundamental decencies one surely shares with others, no matter their mark or station, of the quiet savouring of sunny afternoons and nature's shimmering trees, of being present with one's consciousness fixed on thoughts of gentleness, self-lessening and contentment. I suppose our striving for some kind of worldly improvement in our own lot is due to the competitive energy that we have - channeled into good things, sometimes, but neglectful of the in-between things that give harmony to a well-lived life. Perhaps it is in the emphases of the education we receive - not exactly courses in the classics which teach of old men's (such as the Greeks') writings on what goodness means, Confucian concepts of 仁 (to be humane), 义 (to understand morality), 礼 (to respect tradition and practice), 智 (to learn to observe and discern) - instead, we say we must master the sciences, mathematics and languages. The old ways are too old, written in old words, not useful to make money with. And because we no longer cleave to a religious education, which is in a way the logical end-result of secularity - no one system of beliefs has an outsize influence on us; but I suppose that nothing has really, credibly filled the void, and parents and grandparents have failed to do so in their own way; maybe too busy, too awkward at explaining what goodness means.
I do not believe we are born hollow; and I do not believe that children and teenagers do not care about that hollowness. I believe it is implicitly squeezed out of us; which is bad as an analogy but it will serve. Squeezed out and we don't realise that it is only partially filled with the things that demand almost all our time and will. I mean, encouragement from adults usually tends towards being obedient and studying hard, making it into good courses, right? Perhaps for those who are naturally clever, or good at making grades, they have a bit more time to schedule in some culture; perhaps not, depending on their guardians. And isn't it interesting how everybody, literally everybody, becomes a lot less interesting as they grow older and become adults? But again, can culture be fed to us the same way that formulas and textbook information can? I doubt it. In fact I don't think so at all. I don't believe that the teacher who teaches a class of thirty eight students can begin (in all fairness to teachers) to demonstrate what this substance could be; and even if he/she could, parents would tend to discount all matters which are not gradable. A desire to be educated is a strange little thing and I don't think the schools can do it very well; it is not really their job as described, I don't think.
Is that all there is, then? Will the libraries and the museums and the concert halls and the play-theatres and the open spaces and the arts installations all fail to do us any good? Will the elders of our species shake their beards at us and turn away in their lying spaces? Way down in our essence, do we feel that we want to know more, or is life, hard life, all we want to beat away at? Despairingly, I faintly feel: no, et noluistis. Those that quietly remain will always be alone, shunned perhaps, or poorly understood; and they will eventually dry up inside. But I guess there will always be that odd hollow to feel, both in lean times and plenty.
"Alas! what are you, after all, my written and painted thoughts! Not long ago you were so variegated, young and malicious, so full of thorns and secret spices, that you made me sneeze and laugh — and now? ... nobody will divine thereby how ye looked in your morning, you sudden sparks and marvels of my solitude, you, my old, beloved — evil thoughts!" - Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil (1886)
