Catherine Lim, one of Singapore's most acclaimed writers, describes in a short story a Mr Sai Poh Phan who is always perplexed by the demands of life, and the difficulties in reconciling his public duties and personal desires. “I'm only a humble civil servant”, he is moved to say by the satirical pen of the author, “I suffered much, but I'm glad that in the end it was for the good of so many Singaporeans”. Mr Sai is undoubtedly one of those who has made it to the upper reaches of the Singapore social-economic ladder. He has a well-paid job as a school principal, lives with his family in a two-storey semi-detached house, and owns an apartment which he rents out to a Japanese business executive. However, Mr Sai's evident satisfaction with his life is dampened by a self-doubt which plagues his otherwise perfect existence. Current riches are stalked by the shadow of past deprivations. Mr Sai tells his children, making a point about another middle class symbol: “Air-conditioning? I shared a room with three brothers and two sisters on the top-floor of a shophouse in Chinatown. We had two mattresses to share among us. Most of the time, I slept on rice-sacks. Now my son says he can't study except in an air-conditioned room!”.

All this is of course parody. But the story none the less conveys a sociological intelligence which helps to open up for a close look the world of the middle class in Singapore. In one way, it is clear that they aspire to much of what their counterparts in other parts of the world also seek: university education, professional jobs, designer goods, expensive cars, overseas holidays, golf club memberships and other forms of life-style consumption. The desire, we might say, is one in response to the lure of global marketing, and for acquiring goods that are crucial social markers in an upwardly mobile society.