Besieged owlets in Telok Blangah show why Singapore can’t have nice things
Nanny state strikes again as we can’t even be trusted with a bird’s nest, and can only admire it now from a distance
SINGAPORE loves a cordon. For a country that doesn’t allow public protests without a permit, we’re always cordoning off things: spillages, uneven steps and even the owlets of Telok Blangah.
Nothing provides greater joy than watching the frenzy that follows a sudden spillage at a supermarket. With militaristic precision, the safety cones are whipped out, or those yellow, plastic wigwam things that say things like, “Warning! Do not enter! Or you will slip on the ketchup and die.”
In Georgia right now, they are cordoning off political protests. In Singapore, we cordon off spilled milk. Never let it be said that we don’t have priorities.
Occasionally, and fabulously, a store staff member will appear beside the spillage to say something like, “careful ah, milk drop”, on the off chance that someone has mistaken the puddle of semi-skimmed for a moon river and pulls out an inflatable kayak.
But this is no joke. Public safety and trust (or lack of) is no laughing matter, a truism best represented by the gold standard of public cordons: the stairs on the Orchard MRT platform. For anyone who hasn’t witnessed the extraordinary spectacle, the stairs come with warnings. Actually, that’s like saying Donald Trump comes with a slight shade of orange. The description doesn’t do the imagery justice.
First, there is the basic signage cordon. The area isn’t blocked off, but the large signs are on display to funnel folks up the stairs and remind them that each step is a little steep. Then there are the bright strips along the steps’ edges, to literally illuminate the elevation of each one. Occasionally, there are even flashing lights, those whirly, round yellow ones.
And then it’s no longer an MRT platform, but a London rave from the 1990s, with flashing lights and luminous stripes. All that’s missing is the MRT staff jumping up and down in smiley rave tops, blowing whistles and shouting, “Acid!”
(Nice cultural reference there for anyone over 45.)
A society that cannot be trusted to do the right thing?
Clearly, MRT safety briefings concluded that the staircase was taking out more people on a train station than Jason Bourne. Warning signs were not enough. And then bright, yellow strips were not enough. Even flashing lights were not enough. Apparently, commuters were still skittering down the steps like Bambi on ice.
And it’s not a joke. Whenever I’ve mocked the excessive measures taken to preserve life and limb on the Orchard MRT platform, I’ve encountered earnest responses, like, “Yeah, but those stairs are very steep, you know.”
OK, but they’re not Mount Everest steep, are they?
“But when there’s a lot of people, it’s hard to see the steps.”
Then stand back. Or go slowly. Or stop looking at that disturbingly young Korean pop star on the phone and try putting one foot in front of the other. Like a human. Apparently, we’ve had the whole bipedal thing down for many Millennia. Either that, or the traditional evolutionary chart needs revising, i.e. Man crouches on all fours. Man stands. Man walks. Man trips over the Orchard MRT staircase.
In which case, we fall. And learn. A resilient society should essentially follow the mantra of Bruce Wayne’s Dad. We fall to get back up. A little trial and error leads to wisdom, right? We don’t need nannying. We can be trusted to do the right thing with nice things, like supermarket aisles, MRT staircases and, er, owlets. Yes, that’s where I’m going with this.
Because we couldn’t, could we? If a society cannot be trusted to successfully navigate spilled milk and a flight of stairs without putting up more barricades than the French Revolution, then the owlets of Telok Blangah never stood a chance did they?
The entirely predictable incident revealed many things. First, the Owlets of Telok Blangah would make a great title for a YA novel.
Second, Singapore’s city in nature remains a work in progress, a noble idea still trying to define its boundaries. And third, the classic chicken and egg dilemma of the nanny state played out once more.
Were the owlets cordoned off because the nanny state still lacks trust in its own people? Or were the owlets cordoned off because the nannied people wouldn’t do the right thing without state intervention? Either way, the wildlife reality show essentially became the Kardashians of Telok Blangah, exotic celebrities to be admired only from behind the red rope. Or, in this case, an inelegant red and white strip tied around four cones and a tree trunk.
Symbol of modern Singapore back in place
Nothing encapsulates the competing interests of Singapore’s fledgling city in nature better than a nest of beautiful sunda scops owls in a cosy tree cavity, like a scene from Harry Potter, and surrounded by crusty cones, like a scene from a construction site.
The symbolism was too obvious. It’s a wonder that western publications haven’t utilised the photograph already, slapping the incongruous image above a sarcastic caption about Singapore taming and controlling all aspects of its environment once more.
But NParks, ACRES and dedicated birders had to intervene because the Telok Blangah tree had been surrounded by photographers with flashlights and influencers with personal brands to promote. The owlets were vulnerable. One fell from the tree and had to be rescued. The family’s well being was compromised. NParks had to put up a cordon.
The nanny state had to do the nannying because the nannied couldn’t be left alone to do the right thing with a nest of stressed owlets. We were presented with something nice, but didn’t treat it nicely enough, until it was taken away. A bit like e-scooters.
So, for now, the owlets must be admired from a sensible distance. The great symbol of modern Singapore is back in place. The safety cordon. And for those folks who trampled across the scene with flashing cameras in search of close-up shots or those who turned up in search of Instagram likes, maybe seek a wild adventure elsewhere. Try the Orchard MRT staircase.
The nanny state had to do the nannying because the nannied couldn’t be left alone to do the right thing with a nest of stressed owlets. We were presented with something nice, but didn’t treat it nicely enough, until it was taken away.
Neil Humphreys is an award-winning football writer and a best-selling author, who has covered the English Premier League since 2000 and has written 28 books.
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