By Leow Si Wan

SINGAPORE has a long way to go before it can call itself a gracious and civic-minded society, declares Mr Koh Poh Tiong.

Coming from the chairman of the Singapore Kindness Movement (SKM), the assessment stings.

It also tells the man that his work is cut out for him, although the drive to nudge Singaporeans towards simple acts of kindness in their daily lives has already been running for 12 years.

Mr Koh adds that the people here have taken "perhaps the 10th of a thousand steps" towards becoming a courteous, gracious society like Japan.

The trim and youthful-looking 62-year-old, with a light dusting of salt-and-pepper flecks in his dark hair, has a story - or three - which shout out Singaporeans' tendency to put themselves first:

Singapore Kindness Movement chairman Koh Poh Tiong says helming the movement is "the most difficult corporate job" he has ever had, but he insists there is hope for change, even if it takes a generation or so.

He says he was checking his BlackBerry one day while waiting for the lift at Mount Elizabeth Hospital. When it arrived, the man in front of him scooted in and jabbed the "door close" button, leaving Mr Koh standing outside in amazement.

Related to this kind of inconsideration, he says, is the tendency among people to reserve shows of courtesy for their superiors.

The soft-spoken, bespectacled man, speaking to The Straits Times in a meeting room at F&N's premises in Alexandra Road - he is chief executive of F&N's food and beverage arm - says: "If I were his boss or a VIP, that might not have happened.

"This is why there are jokes about how the 'close' buttons in lifts are always worn out while the 'open' buttons are not used," he quips, breaking into easy laughter.

He says that when he once asked Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong what he thought of graciousness levels here, the PM laughed and said "Well, I am the Prime Minister, so everyone is nice to me!"

Mr Koh said: "That hit me. There is nothing wrong with being nice to the PM or to your bosses, but you should also be nice to the maids or the coffee lady."

Referring to a friend whose relative bought top-grade durians for his family and cheaper inferior fruit for the maid, he said, aghast: "If you are a child, what kind of values will you pick up?"

Values passed on to the next generation are one thing, but old-world ways and touches are also disappearing because the current "me" generation lives in a fast-paced world, he said. They are wired to new media that gives - and demands - everything instantaneously.

The result: People dispense with niceties in e-mail and text messages.

The irony that technology has not freed time up for people to be more genteel does not escape him; indeed, the explosion of information and claims on people's time means families now spend less time with each other, he says.

The father of six grown children and grandfather of one says: "Kindness is about values. What's worrying is that a lot of families don't sit down together, or dinner is interrupted by the son having to go surf the Internet or go out to Zouk."

He likens a family dinner to a business meeting, a session in which strategies and views are shared, so the lack of time spent together means parents have lost a "forum" through which values can be "taught and caught".

Given the many kindness sins Singaporeans have committed, he has no illusions that pulling off an overnight change will be easy.

But, he insists, there is hope for change - even if it may take a generation or so to come.

Explaining, he says new generations present fresh opportunities to instill graciousness.

And because the pragmatic Singaporean will cotton on to the link between being gracious and their very livelihood - one tied, however indirectly, to return visits and repeat business from satisfied tourists and business clients - it will happen, he asserts.

On a personal level, too, gracious and kind acts even among strangers can reduce stress levels.

And with constant reminders, the message will sink in. It will be a bit-by-bit progress, he says.

He points to South Korea and Hong Kong, places known to be "relatively loud and aggressive" but which have kicked those reputations with a combination of economic necessity and - yes - public education campaigns.

Meanwhile, it has come to pass that some Singaporeans were hesitant about taking the 45,000 cheery yellow gerberas offered yesterday by SKM to mark World Kindness Day.

Each flower, given to them for free, was meant for them to give away to someone for an act of kindness. Some thought they had to pay for the bloom, but asked unabashedly for more when told they were free.

Mr Koh, asked for his response to this, said he had no comment.

It was probably an instant reminder that this job he has taken to helm the SKM is, as he says "the most difficult corporate job" he has ever had.

He knows sceptics are sniggering on the sidelines.

Aware that the results of the kindness movement are difficult to measure, he says: "I do not shy away from challenges. At the end of the day, the knowledge of having played a part and, in the process, having made a positive difference to Singapore, even if it is a small one, will bring me quiet joy, satisfaction and self-reward."

siwan@sph.com.sg

This article was first published in The Straits Times.