[TLDR: How do habits and ideas become “normal”? Singapore’s early experience with opium shows how trade, colonial policy, and social pressures once turned a substance into a widespread habit – with devastating consequences. Today, ‘vehicles of influence’ – from viral trends to celebrity endorsements to wellness marketing – work similarly but at a speed way deadlier than ever before. Understanding how influence operates historically helps us recognise and resist it today.]
Think about how certain habits or trends can start to feel normal over time. Blind boxes, for instance, have surged in popularity in recent years – with people chasing rare figures, sharing unboxing videos online and what once felt novel gradually becoming a familiar part of the shopping experience.
While these trends are usually harmless, they reveal a societal phenomenon that deserves deeper thought: what we see around us – trends, culture and social cues – can quietly shape what people come to see as normal. Not always through deliberate choice, but because wider forces gradually make them feel socially acceptable. The “six seven” trend exemplifies this perfectly – a meaningless phrase that went viral worldwide, adopted by countless users who couldn’t even explain what it meant.
Similarly, Singapore’s early history with opium shows how these forces once operated on a much larger and more dangerous scale. The widespread abuse of opium was not simply about individual addiction, but the product of social acceptance, economic interests and policies that made opium smoking a normalised part of everyday community life.
How Social Life and Economic Interests Normalised Opium in Early Singapore
In the 19th and early 20th centuries, opium was deeply woven into daily life across many parts of Asia, including Singapore. At the time, it was not always viewed as a dangerous drug. Some doctors even believed it to have medicinal value and in treating pain or ailments like malaria.1
Opium smoking also became tied to social life. Opium dens were more than just dens of vice, they were social spaces where abusers bonded over their shared addiction, creating communities that normalised opium smoking through collective participation. This social dimension transformed individual vice into accepted group behaviour.
Acceptance was also reinforced by external forces. During the colonial era, the opium trade was systemically integrated into the local economy due to its significant revenue generation, accounting for 59% of the Straits Settlements’ total income in 1904.2 This financial stake gave the administration every incentive to normalise and expand opium abuse, prioritising economic interests over the devastating human cost of leveraging public health for revenue.
The Cost of Normalisation
As opium abuse spread, its consequences became increasingly clear.
Across communities, addiction led to serious health problems, financial hardship and family breakdown. Where opium became deeply embedded in society, the social consequences were severe – patterns that remain familiar in societies grappling with drug abuse today.
So how did things turn around? As the damage became impossible to ignore, efforts began to push back against the widespread use of opium. In 1906, the Anti-Opium Society was formed to educate the public about the drug’s harms and advocate for reform.3 Over time, stricter regulations were introduced, culminating in a full ban on opium in 1946.
But ending the opium trade did not mean the problem disappeared overnight. Some opium abusers continued feeding their addiction with drugs such as cannabis, morphine and heroin, eventually resulting in a heroin “epidemic” by the late 1970s.
The persistence of drug abuse highlighted how difficult it can be to dismantle deeply entrenched habits and illicit markets. This eventually led to the establishment of the Central Narcotics Bureau (CNB), a drug enforcement agency dedicated to tackle both the demand and supply of drugs.5 The arduous journey of dismantling this entrenched system was foundational in building the societal resilience that characterises Singapore’s stance on drugs today.
Modern Whispers: New Forms of Influence
Today, the world looks very different from the opium era. But the way influence spreads through society withstands the test of time.
Digital platforms now allow trends and ideas to travel faster than ever before. Social media content can shape perceptions, spark curiosity or subtly influence how people think about certain behaviours.
At the same time, developments overseas can also shape conversations at home. In recent years, some countries have legalised drugs such as cannabis, while others have explored the medical use of psychedelic substances. These discussions often take place within specific legal or medical contexts. But online, messages can sometimes travel without that full context. Simplified or sensationalised narratives may make certain substances appear less harmful than they really are.
Just as opium was once promoted for its supposed medicinal benefits, modern narratives about drugs can also shape perceptions in ways that make them appear less harmful or more socially acceptable. Likewise, the colonial government’s economic interests in the opium trade mirrors how commercial interests today – from the global cannabis industry to wellness brands marketing unregulated products – can shape how drugs are discussed and perceived.
Our Collective Shield
Singapore’s history with opium reminds us that harmful behaviours rarely become widespread overnight. They take root gradually, shaped by culture, economics, social influence and repeated exposure. What begins as something unusual can slowly start to feel normal.
Looking back, the consequences of opium are clear. But at the time, its widespread acceptance developed quietly, often before people fully understood the damage it would cause. Today, influence moves faster than ever. Trends travel across borders in seconds, and ideas that originate elsewhere can quickly shape perceptions here.
That is why awareness matters. Staying uninfluenced does not mean ignoring the world around us, but recognising how trends, narratives and peer pressure can shape perceptions. Hindsight is always 20/20. But having a community that pays attention to warning signs that could cause rapid social harm? That’s the kind of early intervention that’s worth the collective effort.