I have started counting the ages. In Singapore, the boys I sit next to in class will be called up for full-time national service at 18, handed a rifle and asked to defend the country with their lives. The same year, any of us who earn enough can be taxed on our income. We can also be tried as adults and face the gravest penalties the law allows, including capital punishment. The vote comes last at 21, later than almost everything else the state already trusts us with. I had never thought the order was strange until I wrote it down.
When Workers' Party MP Sylvia Lim asked Parliament in 2023 why the age was not lowered, Minister Chan Chun Sing described a ladder of rights and responsibilities arriving in stages, with 21 as the point where a person is deemed mature enough to vote. By then, most men have finished national service. On its own, it sounds coherent even if it sits uneasily with me.
But set against the rest of that ladder, the logic is harder to hold. We ask people to carry a weapon at 18 and to answer for a capital crime with their lives, then tell them they are not yet ready to mark a ballot. The heaviest responsibilities are handed over first. The lightest one is held back. That is a strange order to defend.
The world around us has shifted. In 2019, Malaysia lowered its voting age from 21 to 18 through a constitutional amendment known as Undi18, passed unanimously by its lower house. Britain has introduced a bill to bring the voting age down to 16. Austria, Brazil and Malta vote at 16. By comparison, Singapore keeps it at 21, now among the highest voting ages in the world.
Even so, lowering the age does not settle the question. In Malaysia's first elections after Undi18 took effect, some new voters said they felt unready, and the vote by itself does not create the engagement it assumes. Whether the line sits at 16 or 18 is arguable, but 18 seems the latest it can reasonably sit. If we are trusted with a rifle at 18, it is hard to see why the ballot should wait until 21.
The number matters less than who gets to draw it. We are told the young have other platforms to be heard. But being invited onto a platform is a favour. The vote is the one place where a say is not a favour but an equal share. A few months ago I wrote about a decision made about my generation without us. This is the quieter version of the same thing: the one channel where being heard is guaranteed is also the last one we are handed.
