Singapore virus success isn’t easily replicated

At the dawn of 2021, Singapore feels like a coiled spring where growth is just waiting to be unleashed. Last-minute dinner reservations are once again almost impossible to secure and the countless malls that dot the map are hopping on weekends. The Central Expressway, a core artery running north from downtown, is again prone to congestion. Children — mercifully — are in school.
The government projects gross domestic product will increase between 4% and 6% this year, compared with a contraction of 5.8% in 2020, the worst in history. This brighter outlook and cautious easing of restrictions reflects Singapore’s success at containing Covid-19 infections, and makes the place look great relative to the US and Europe, where the disease is again spreading rapidly. Even Japan and South Korea, generally praised for their handling, are wrestling with new outbreaks.
But as real as Singapore’s coronavirus-fighting achievements are, they rest on a model that isn’t easily exported. Its results are facilitated by a degree of state influence that other countries might find uncomfortable. Granted, there aren’t many places one would rather have been during this pandemic. Still, it is doubtful that Singapore’s approach can work beyond its borders. In numerous cases, constitutions don’t easily give national governments the ability to do what’s been achieved here.
Last week, the country entered phase three of its reopening. The government now allows social gatherings of eight people, up from five. The size of congregations at religious services has been expanded, subject to tight regulations, and authorities are trying to make it less onerous for workers to be in their offices.
If this sounds enviable, consider the amount of compliance it took to get here. It’s compulsory to swipe into any establishment using its QR code, preferably with a government app on your smartphone, though taking a photo works, too. You also must submit to a temperature check, and keep your mask on. The first-time offence for not wearing a mask is a fine of S$300 ($225); second transgressions receive a S$1,000 penalty. Repeat offences invite prosecution and, for foreigners, revocation of work permits. For those without a smartphone or who prefer not to use the app, the government is rolling out a token that you are urged to carry when leaving home. Even kids above age seven are expected to comply.
Officials tied this stage of reopening to wider adoption of the TraceTogether app and tokens. By mid-December, about 65% of the population used them. “Please understand that even as we enter phase three, the battle is far from won,” PM Lee Hsien Loong said in an address last month. “The Covid-19 virus has not been eradicated.” The effectiveness of Singapore’s approach lies in its combination of subtlety and pervasiveness. Even taxis have barcodes to be scanned. Wearing masks has become so routine that it’s easy to forget them when leaving the house, almost like walking out without your keys. (Never mind, most taxi drivers have a ready supply to share.)
However, despite the recent outbreak in the northern suburbs of Sydney, mask-wearing was only just made mandatory now. In France, winter resorts have sued the government to keep ski lifts operating over the holidays, and more than a million people a day passed through US airports in the week leading up to Christmas. But Singaporeans shake their heads in amazement. It all strikes them as an own-goal, and they are right.
There’s little disquiet about the enforcement of these precautions. Even the political opposition, which made gains in July’s election, refrained from directly attacking the government’s handling of Covid-19. Public gatherings are tightly controlled, ruling out the kind of protests over social and economic curbs that gripped the US last summer. Safe Distancing Ambassadors, civilians who make sure pedestrians and shoppers don’t get too close to each other, were an ubiquitous and forceful presence when the lockdown started easing in June. A good number were furloughed staff from state-backed companies like Singapore Airlines Ltd.
—Bloomberg