In high-tech Singapore, I’m not only low-tech but no-tech.

The term that I use to describe myself is ‘techno-bodoh’, the Malay word for ‘simpleton’ being very apt, not only because of the rhyming but because of its traditional use by exasperated parents and teachers, for a particularly dull child, the scolding usually accompanied by a knocking of the thick skull with a ruler or powerful knuckles.

Indeed, my friends are endlessly amused by the fact that a writer in this day and age, whose contact with publishers, agents, fellow writers, conference organizers, etc. has to be superquick and efficient, who should look out for the most sophisticated computer to assist in the process of writing, who should be exploiting the vast resources of the Internet for research, etc. is a complete ignoramus in this field.

What is worse is that I’m not only a ‘techo-bodoh’, but a ‘techno-takut’, that is, a technophobe of the first order, who has a real fear of anything technological and hence remains trapped in ignorance and helplessness as the rest of Singapore continues to speed along the Information Highway.

Whence the fear? I would like to put the blame on some genetic cause, but have to rule this out, as the rest of my family, down to the generation of the grandchildren and grand-nieces and nephews, are tech-savvy and computer-happy.

Actually, it isn’t that kind of ignorance that is so bad that it is beyond all instruction. About ten years ago, I went through a brief computer learning programme, that has provided me with the very basic skills for doing my writing on the computer instead of with a ballpen on a writing pad, then converting manuscript to typescript on my typewriter. My publishers in London must have been greatly relieved not to have to continue receiving those huge bundles of typescripts sent by post.

The truth, though, is that the impetus for the learning had come, not from myself, but the Apple people who offered me a new computer for free, plus free instruction, with no strings attached, that is, I didn’t even have to attend a single Apple-promoting function! But despite this generosity, I was interested in acquiring only the skills that were absolutely necessary for my work as a writer. It was not a case of ‘couldn’t’ but ‘wouldn’t’.

Why this obduracy? I think it has nothing to do with any dislike or suspicion of technology—I recognize its value in our world, and am far from being a Luddite! Rather, my insistence on remaining in the technological rut has to do with the pragmatism of making optimal use of whatever resources one has. If I take x minutes to write a short story, I will probably take x times 10 hours, or 100 hours to learn how to use the computer and the Internet efficiently! And without a fraction of the pleasure of those x minutes.

Here are more admissions of a techno-bodoh, the ultimate cyberphobe. I don’t drive, I don’t own a mobile phone, I wouldn’t know how to use the digital camera that my little grand-niece has, I don’t know how to SMS and I don’t have the foggiest ideas about Facebook, blogging, twitter, tweeting, etc words which I know will soon make it to the mainstream lexicon.

A few years ago, I realized I needed the Internet urgently. When the local newspapers no longer seemed keen to publish my political commentaries, I knew that the only way to reach fellow Singaporeans was through the Internet, by having my own website. I was lucky to find someone, a young undergraduate, who could design and manage one for me. I am amazed at his know-how—and also his patience in dealing with someone beyond all technological redemption.

The most famous Singapore coinage, ‘kiasu’ has actually made it into a dictionary compiled by Macquarie University in Australia. ‘Techno-bodoh’, because of its infamy in a society that prides itself on being among the most wired in the world, might just, one of these days, find itself in a Singapore compilation of rogue terms.

---

About Vignettes...

A continuing flow of little, readable pieces that will constitute what I feel is an important 'legacy of values' to leave behind. Read more about Vignettes...