There seems to be a lot of talk recently centered around urging people to be grateful and contented with what we already have. A tidal wave of contrarian views following recent inconveniences (MRT disruption, flash floods) and election politics discussions that stirred up much unhappy feelings.

This includes an old article published in 2004 that resurfaced on a politician’s facebook page. The central idea in the article is that people never report feeling happier despite measurable progress, which probably results from a physical inability to experience improvements that occur over long stretches of time. In conclusion, the author argues that being happy is simple – just try to be kinder.

I’m not sure how the infrastructural improvements he used to illustrate his point eventually boils down to “being kinder makes you happy”. But I think in essence, he’s reiterating (in so many words) the age old adage of how contentment breeds happiness.

That’s all fine. We all agree to that – after all, the surest way to guarantee enjoyment is to lower your expectations to where they are already met!

In fact, I also don’t see a problem with imagining how much our lives have improved compared to the distant past. Despite occasional nostalgia and laments about not being born in the age of exciting musical developments aided by free drug use and the counterculture movement, I know for certain I would never choose to go back to such a time even if such an opportunity presents itself to me. The lack of the internet and numerous other technological inventions are enough to dissuade me, let alone the lack of a sewage system.

So why is it that we don’t simply embrace everything that we already have and be happy?

I think a distinction has to be made between momentary happiness that can be derived from simple pleasures in life, such as seeing the first rays of sun break out of dark clouds on a rainy day, or a good meal topped with a good read; versus real feelings of contentment with the present. The former I applaud, the latter I scorn.

No one should ever be truly happy and contented. Being contented means bringing the end of happiness to the now. What if, maybe, the whole point of the pursuit of happiness is in the pursuit – continuous relentless betterment of oneself and whatever purpose one serves, instead of resting on blissful contentment?

I believe that we should always challenge ourselves to seek perfection, however unattainable we all know it is. That’s how we learn and actually get better. It is effortful, and more often than not, work does not bring joy. Dissatisfaction, discontentment, and unhappiness is an absolutely necessary driving force for progress.

Oh damn this crazy modern music,

I’m a Stravinsky convert.

I resolve to tuck in my shirt at work. Everyday. All day.

That’s it. One day down, 224 more workdays to go (yes I calculated).

"To create ideas is a gift, but to choose wisely is a skill." - Poster by Ryan Morgan

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In comparison to 2010, 2011 indeed seemed to have been much duller, intellectual-wise. I told myself I should read more and write less in order to delve into more worlds and more minds than my puny one. The write less part yes, the read more part unfortunately no.

As a honest evaluation of my life in 2011 – I have gone out more often, socialized less. I have dabbled in more, specialized less. At work, I have been busier, productive less. I earned more money, saved less. I bought more music albums, listened less. In a nutshell, the year flew by and looking back, I feel like I haven’t progressed. Following this general direction that my life is heading towards, I would soon become another one of those cynical, jaded, under-achieving and immensely boring office worker, i.e. one of those people I claim to never understand.

I recall reading as a child this scene in Little Women – the sisters and their friends sat together to discuss what they expect their lives would be in ten years’ time, and then made a promise to meet up ten years later to evaluate how close they were to meeting their youthful wishes. I attempted this (in a bit of a drunken stupor) with some friends after a good friend’s wedding. Also something I’ve discussed a little with another friend over a late night drink. I think I said that I want to be the owner of a business – nothing elaborate or excessively lucrative, but just to work for myself and earn a decent income in the process. My friend pointed out that starting a business in my mid 30s isn’t terribly early, and that I should really be thinking about it soon if I were serious.

The truth is, I’m not sure. All I know is that I don’t want to be caught in the drone of working life (as I seem to have been in 2011) without anything to look forward to. Most importantly, I don’t want to look back as I near the end and find that I have achieved nothing. Having graduated out of the organized education system, I’m now left on my own – an unwise young adult responsible for the way I choose to live the rest of  my life.

As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t mind a mundane office job (as I often say, “a job is a job is a job”) so long as I take it on as a conscious decision to put career on the back seat. It means settling for pay and working hours that are sufficiently liberating for me to indulge in my interests, and with any luck, nurture a family. It is also why I feel (quite irrationally) inclined to pursue a doctorate degree – firstly, to be able to print “Dr” on my credit cards and secondly, to know that I have invested a good number of years into studying something in-depth enough to receive some recognition for being a “subject expert”.

So more accurately, I wish to be accomplished in at least one way, be it in a successful career (business owner or not), growth in knowledge and wisdom, or a supportive loving family. Purely for my selfish self, not because of social or peer pressure, to be self-sufficient and stable.

Quite disappointingly, I came to this goal a little late in 2011.

Nonetheless, soul crushing negativity aside, 2011 wasn’t entirely a lost year. For one, I have changed my life quite significantly by picking up yoga. It doesn’t sound like much, but I am investing quite a lot of my time (2 hours at least 3 times a week) on connecting with my physical being through thousands of year old contortionist postures, which to my horror, I sickeningly enjoy (addicted actually). For two, I have committed to (finally) taking up my Grade 8 piano exam after a good 7 years, gallantly skipping 2 grades in the process. For three, I got promoted at work too (heh). Finally, with a stroke of wisdom, I know with a great amount of certainty that 2012 will be better – because I will make it better – that is my end of year promise to myself.

A few weeks ago, Kurt Wimmer’s movie Equilibrium (2002) was shown on TV. It depicts a future where emotions have been outlawed and all objects that may evoke emotions, particularly works of art, are banned; condemned to be destroyed whenever discovered. The world is intensely efficient. There are no frills. All objects are placed at the optimal position to enhance performance.

Living in a world where Apple risks a defect in order to produce a phone that meets its aesthetic ideal, I’m not worried about an excessive obsession with performance. It’s the uncanny familiarity of that sleek hygenic home and office in Equilibrium that disturbs me. We seem on track to achieving that “ideal” – a conformity of aesthetic values focused on minimalism.

In addition to selling us things we never knew we needed, Apple with its focus on typography and white earphones seeks to educate us on aesthetics. When we buy that product, it almost seems as though we give away our individualism and buy into a carefully designed lifestyle complete with its very own aesthetic values. We recognize that we have a deficient sense of style and leave it to them to dictate what we ought to like. I overheard an exclaimation that went something like, “I never knew beauty until I found Apple!”. Well, I never knew fear.

What I think I’m missing is that little bit of awkward beauty. The deficiency of originality, where the lack of confidence and polished professional competency bring about a fresh perspective. I believe that when something good becomes sufficiently well-liked, they become mediocre. Then it takes another leap, sometimes into mud again, to bring us to a new level of beauty. If something does not offend a good number of people, it will never become great. Much of great art was ahead of its time.

So, when it comes to aesthetics, question your first instinctive response and challenge yourself (at least once in a while) to accept what you may find grotesque. Before you say “eew”, try to see it in a different light.

- Edward Said, in Music and Feminism

The central argument of Scruton was that art should portray beauty, and that the job of an artist was to see beauty (which exists in everyday life) and share his vision in his art work. Modern art aims to shock, often by putting what is most embarrassing about our everyday life into the limelight because it is real. However, he argues that reminding us of the suffering and utility of real life, important as it may be, is not what an artist should do.

He uses examples like Mantegna’s painting of the crucifixion, Delacroix’s unmade bed and Pergolesi’s music to illustrate that despite their themes of death, mundaneness and suffering, the artist, with skill and creativity, manages to portray beauty. In presenting beauty, the unpleasantries of real life transcends practicalities and in so doing, the art work consoles, inspires, and stimulates the imagination with good taste. In contrast, Emin’s unmade bed merely presents the bed in actuality – it lacks the rich artistic details in Delacroix’s painting, which aims to vividly present the transcendent beauty that struck him on that fateful morning as the morning sunlight fell on his unmade bed.

I found that argument compelling – putting something in a gallery and calling it art doesn’t make it art. Anyone can have a good idea or concept, but it takes an artist to present it beautifully and share the inspiration he received in a fleeting moment. This is captured in elegantly written music and prose, as well as skillfully made paintings and photography.

People often create beautiful pieces that transcends human existence because of their beliefs in the spiritual and divine. Buildings made for religious worship are often the most beautiful architecture and music made to express devotion to the divine is typically elegant – because people believe that the spirtual is sacred and ideal, thereby lacking the ugly woefulness of human existence. But even without those beliefs, he argues that artists can continue to inspire and console by creating art for beauty in itself.

As Kant argues (which the author also mentions), a person is free only if he can make decisions for himself despite his inclinations and physical necessities. The intellectual capabilities of mankind has allowed people to spend less time fulfiling their physical needs, thereby making them free to smell the roses, discover beauty and explore the metaphysical (moralising included). It differentiates us from the mere existence of animals, and provides special meaning in human existence. Besides studying the “why” and “how” of things with science, we create art.

Beautiful works of art portrays human insight. And therefore, depite its complete pointlessness, it is necessary because it shows that we are more than our animalistic needs.

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The argument that YoG is spending money at the expense of the poor is one that applies to a multitude of budget decisions. Why invest in failing multi-national banks? (Did we only lose $300million?) Why do we even bother keeping so much in reserve when Singaporeans are facing financial difficulties? Shouldn’t we improve efficiency, reduce wastage and red tape so more could be spent on healthcare for the needy?

As I read the comments, I realize much of the unhappiness with Singapore hosting the event is generated by the political agenda of the “cynics” and “alternative media”. While many are trying hard not to buy into government propaganda on the event, they’re buying into opportunistic attacks. Sports should not be politicised. Let’s not make YoG a victim.

Suppose then that, regardless of “opportunistic attacks”, every dollar of the budget should be prioritized on improving the immediate material needs of Singaporeans. Does that mean that money spent on scholarships to higher education should be taken away to alleviate the hardships of the poorest? Why invest in the arts for the indulgence of a priviledged few? On the individual level, should you miss that weekend movie and give the $10 to the old lady living on selling collected cardboard and drink cans?

“This is far-fetched”, you may say. But the point is, if you universalize this argument, it becomes some extreme form of economic egalitarianism. Do you really support this? Maybe not. Maybe this argument is as “feel good” as the noble ideals. I don’t believe many who bought into that argument would really support a political system that makes sure everyone is equally materially wealthy, but culturally poor.

I think Brian brought out a very good point. The issue isn’t that students are being forced into helping out at YoG, but that the lack of volunteers is the problem itself. Certainly, it takes time away from academic studies, but how often do you get a chance to participate in an international sporting event and interact with youths from all over the world? Can you learn sportsmanship, perseverance, determination and all the intricacies involved in interacting with people from different cultures, by reading your text book and aceing your exam?

And to all the complaints about bad food and inconvenience: How do you become part of the world if you would not risk some inconvenience to invite others into your home?

To those who complain about the opening ceremony being another NDP with focus on Singapore’s growth: Every host country takes this opportunity to showcase their country’s history to the world – it’s the same with China and Greece when they hosted the Olympics. “Who cares about it?” If Singaporeans don’t, who would? I think Singapore actually went beyond, and showcased different elements of a larger Asian culture and some universal insecurities of youths.

On the lack of international coverage, the “cheap spin-off”, the lack of already-prominent athletes: If we really only do invest in the popular and entertain those with proven track records, we will become exactly the money and fame grubber we abhor.

The comments are an embarrasing display of Singaporean small-mindedness. At this point, it should be clear that the biggest benefit we will reap from hosting the YoG is no longer international recognition, but experience and education for our own people. One argued that the lack of a lasting effect from hosting the 1993 SEA Games illustrates the pointlessness of such endeavors. That also goes to show that, every now and then, we need something bigger and beyond to remind us that our capabilities, imaginations and minds are not as small as our geographical size.

That’s why we have to invest in arts, sports and grab at opportunities to host/participate in international events. There’s only so far that improving our amenities, social security and education systems can go. We need the beauty in art to inspire us, the challenges of sports to excite us, and the international interaction to show us what the rest of the world thinks.

I am hopeful, that maybe, just maybe one in every twenty of those youths who grugdgingly “volunteered” for the YoG will realize that he learned something important in this experience, that he will become inspired by a something beyond economic practicalities and his academic studies. I am hopeful that he will apply this enthusiam on his future endeavors, and pass the spark on to the people around him. Maybe we’ll find in one of these youths our next truly “made in Singapore” athlete.

With no definite evidence, to be a theist of an atheist requires a leap of faith. I cannot make myself take a leap of faith in something important enough to exert influence on the way I live my life. However, I do, like all sentient beings, seek answers to those fundamental questions.

I am agnostic because agnosticism, as defined by Huxley, is a method, not a doctrine or belief. It is my preferred method to find answers to those fundamental questions without taking a leap of faith. I like the scientific method of enquiry, where hypotheses are tested by collecting empirical evidence from demonstrable and replicable experiments. I enjoy philosophy’s appeal to reason, where principles can be derived from a priori, logical reasoning. There is the problem of the induction fallacy, but the beauty of science and philosophy is in its openness. Despite there being various schools of thought, they are open for discussion, review and criticism. No theory can claim to be fully accurate. Ideas are constantly raised, challenged and disproved with some bruised egos but no cause for vengeance. In religion, however, it is taboo to criticise another’s beliefs.

To me, adopting a religion is also not a practical alternative. The answers that religion provide are packaged in a bundle which relies on the premise that God, or Gods exist. Almost all religions emphasize on and require Faith. Unless I’m prepared to investigate the evidence of each God’s existence and its associated beliefs, and then take a leap of faith to pick one, I am not able to reach a decision as to which religion I should choose to live my life by. What if I do not agree to all the moral principles that the “most likely to be true” religion offers? What if God does exist, but the evidence of His existence and his teachings have been picked up by different groups of people who then incorporated them across different religions?

And so, I choose to live my life under the assumption that no Gods, or spiritual/supernatural beings, exist. They are, by definition, non-material beings. After all, “God moves in mysterious ways” and the existence of non-material beings are not observable by me in conventional ways. I cannot pretend that something I do not understand exists and assume that every movement in the clouds, the fluttering of a butterfly’s wings or the scent carried by the wind, is a sign of a non-material being.

I may be called an Atheistic Agnostic. If I must take a stand, I’d say that I do not believe that God exists. But really, my stand is that the existence or non-existence of God is irrelevant.

Although I am interested in knowing the answers to the questions Where did I come from? and What will happen to me after I die?, to me these questions are not as important as the question How should I live my life? By this, I mean the manner by which I should carry myself while I’m alive, my values and moral principles. And the answer to this question does not require the knowledge of God.

Instead of picking a answer to this off a religious shelf, I chose reason. Not reason by individual circumstances, but a universal reason. I had leanings towards moral relativism, but I’m swayed by Kant’s idea that a single set of moral principles derived from reason shared by all rational beings exists. I am also convinced by his argument that freedom entails the freedom to choose to live autonomously, which excludes succumbing to physical inclinations for pleasure and happiness. It may relieve me of a lot of anxiety and make me happy if I find that I can turn to God for my troubles, but that does not make me a free, thinking and rational person.

So, I am agnostic. I live my life by a method I chose for myself. I do not believe that God exists but I’m open to demonstrable, replicable empirical evidence and any flawless a priori reason for His existence. I abhor both militant theists and atheists alike because I see no reason for their endeavors since the existence of God is irrelevant in the quest for knowledge, values and principles.

As an agnostic, I am open to all ideas. I do not live with taboos accorded by religions. I can pray, visit places of worship and observe all traditions in good faith. I also do not base my current decisions on what will happen in the afterlife. Most importantly, I may change my principles and beliefs as I gain more knowledge of the world and its people, and as I better understand myself and the norms of the society I live in. After all, I decide for myself.

Agnosticism, in fact, is not a creed, but a method, the essence of which lies in the rigorous application of a single principle. That principle is of great antiquity; it is as old as Socrates; as old as the writer who said, “Try all things, hold fast by that which is good” it is the foundation of the Reformation, which simply illustrated the axiom that every man should be able to give a reason for the faith that is in him; it is the great principle of Descartes; it is the fundamental axiom of modern science. Positively the principle may be expressed: In matters of the intellect, follow your reason as far as it will take you, without regard to any other consideration. And negatively: In matters of the intellect do not pretend that conclusions are certain which are not demonstrated or demonstrable. That I take to be the agnostic faith, which if a man keep whole and undefiled, he shall not be ashamed to look the universe in the face, whatever the future may have in store for him.

The results of the working out of the agnostic principle will vary according to individual knowledge and capacity, and according to the general condition of science. That which is unproven today may be proven by the help of new discoveries tomorrow. The only negative fixed points will be those negations which flow from the demonstrable limitation of our faculties. And the only obligation accepted is to have the mind always open to conviction. Agnostics who never fail in carrying out their principles are, I am afraid, as rare as other people of whom the same consistency can be truthfully predicated. But, if you were to meet with such a phœnix and to tell him that you had discovered that two and two make five, he would patiently ask you to state your reasons for that conviction, and express his readiness to agree with you if he found them satisfactory. The apostolic injunction to “suffer fools gladly” should be the rule of life of a true agnostic.

- Agnosticism (1889), by Thomas Huxley