I am feeling guilty today. On my day off, I sat around, slept, ate and generally watched my Indonesian maid clean my home. Wait. Right there, just after the first line, I have made two lies. My door was closed, and I was asleep (both precluding my actual viewing) and she is not my maid, nor is it my house, and finally, nor is it my mess she is cleaning. In my old age, I have become a bit of a neat freak, and only wish some of my current proclivities would rub off on the owner of said home. But anyway, she is here, she is cleaning and there is something perverse about the cost of it.
To deny her the right to be here is silly and pointless. Unlike so many knee-jerk liberal reactions, I recognize the advantage of this work for HER. She can make far more here than back home. In fact, in what is the common arrangement, when her employer gives her time off, most maids moonlight as housekeepers, earning $10 Sing an hour, roughly $7 US, or right about the minimum wage. Of course, if she were kicked out, if someone had the stupid reaction that this situation is ‘unfair’ to her, everyone would suffer. She would be back home, earning far LESS than her wages now, with higher surrounding poverty, less hope of helping out her family, and I might be cleaning my own place. Since I currently earn roughly $75 Sing an hour, a weekly 4 hour cleaning has quite a high opportunity-cost.
My point is not to give a basic lecture in econ, which I am NOT qualified to do, but to talk about the hidden cost, the cost to Betty, and if I am honest, maybe to me. The effects of being raised by a maid, and spending one’s whole life ensconced in such a reality are prominent in her, and many other Singaporeans, to be frank. The two most prominent are the profound inability to do anything, or certain things at least, and there is the arrogance of wealth, and the associated negative corollary of judging the poor, where wealth becomes a short and simple way of judging a person total value (incorrectly obviously).
These are two short, and cheap shots certainly not capable of standing up to any sort of even the most minimal intellectual rigeur, but here they are. My point is, that there is a real cost to having the Bettys of the world be the way they are. I don’t have any great insight on how to measure them, but I am sure you can measure the cost, in civic virtue, humanity, missings in saved opportunity costs born by sheer ignorance, who knows. I guess this rambling and pointless aside is that just because it is hard to measure some costs, doesn’t mean they aren’t there.
Truthfully, I was thinking of this in relation to my work. In repeated conversations, they seem unable to capture the cost of people not signing up a second time, or the cost of morale when full-time staff is replaced with part time mothers. (Replacement due to the inability to attract employees, not an explicit cost-cutting policy)….or maybe it was when…two days ago…Betty asked me to show her how her own washing machine worked…which she has had at least since I got here….two years ago