When I first started working in Australia, one of the culture shocks for me was a certain lack of “relationship” in the workplace. Initially, I thought it was because I am still very much a foreigner, and I speak with a funny accent. It took me a while to adapt, eventually. But after so many years, I still think there is something very unfamiliar to someone from Singapore.
Australians are mostly very kind and helpful. If you get into any trouble (like when you trip and fall hard), you are more likely to receive help than you would in Singapore. Australians will generally speak out for you if you encounter a racist incident. They are also very friendly.
But it’s a “distant” kind of friendliness. Almost impersonal sometimes. When I was working, Monday mornings in the office usually began with casual chats about what you did on the weekend, how much rain we got, and how your favourite footy team performed. It was nice. But beneath all the casual banter and hugs, there is a certain…distance.
There was a certain detachment that everyone maintains.
For example, over the 8 years I have worked at the small company with only 20 people, I have attended only one weekend gathering. It was when several colleagues got together for a shared meal and some “relationship building”.
And it was at my house.
Except for the annual Christmas lunch, we never go out with colleagues on work days. Everyone does their own thing; most bring their own sandwich for lunch. Or a can of tuna. Colleagues, but hardly friends. Initially, I thought I was just excluded because…you know, but during the gathering at my house, someone said, “This is the first time we ever got together outside office hours.”
This is very unusual for me. In Singapore, we go out with colleagues every day. For breakfast, lunch, afternoon coffee, and dinner. Even supper sometimes. We also “entertained” often. With clients. Colleagues. Suppliers. Even bosses sometimes. And when we do, we talk about business.
Here, hardly anyone does it.
There were other differences as well, which became a culture shock for me. I also think that these same differences may have contributed to difficulties when migrants try to adapt to Australian society, and when Australians try to accept us.
How we relate to colleagues and friends
My initial contact was mostly with colleagues.
We did not have family or friends when we first arrived, so my colleagues were the people I met every day. I quickly discovered that things here differed from Singapore.
For a start, I now understand what work-life balance should be. The boss never calls after work hours. Or on weekends. The phone is personal and private. And the work week ends at 3 p.m. on Friday with beer and nibbles. That’s great!
But this is about as social as we get. Although it felt like everyone took part “enthusiastically” for about 40 minutes, it often ended rather abruptly just before 4 p.m. We talked about what we’re going to do over the weekend, how much rain we’re getting, and who will win the footy match this Saturday.
Then, one by one, they disappeared quietly into the weekend.
The routine was predictable. I thought it was unique, but it’s the norm. You might go to the pub for a drink after, but it won’t be with colleagues.
After we moved into the eco village, we made a few good friends in the village, and some became our family here in Australia. We know we can count on them if we ever need help. In fact, because we had very young children then, our “family-friend-neighbours” were guardians in our will should anything happen to my wife and me. But they were the exception rather than the norm.
There were a few more exceptions over the years, but most are just nice.
There is distance.
How we communicate
Another shock for me was the way we communicate in the office.
At work, everyone can’t wait to speak. Meetings become a place to “say your piece.” Not everything was relevant, and not everyone was listening. The discussion went on and on, and I don’t recall anyone taking minutes. I felt it was more brainstorming, and everyone HAD to speak.
In Singapore, meetings were usually just formalities.
Important issues were discussed (usually during morning coffees) and agreed on before the meeting.
That’s why we spent a lot of time “entertaining.” Decisions were made in hawker centres or karaoke. Not in the boardroom.
Our version of “between-the-lines” a.k.a. “话中有话” or “words within words” would be completely ignored here. Saving face is more than just avoiding embarrassment. It is for the person you are interacting with. It should be so subtle that no one knows who is saving face for whom.
And when we “tear open our face” (撕破脸), the relationship is beyond recovery. Something we try to avoid at all costs.
There is something honest that I like about how we communicate in Australia. If you tear open someone’s face, just apologise and move on. People do not take things too personally, and there is no overt fear of offending the other. Even if it is the boss.
This is good for mental wellness and work-life balance.
And the school…
One reason we migrated was to give our children a more holistic education. Having grown up in Singapore’s exam-driven system, we thought it would be good if they did not have to suffer the stress we did. We wanted them to learn to have an opinion, to speak up and speak out.
It was good. A bit too good.
Exams are almost non-existent. We have the National Assessment Program for Literacy and Numeracy (NAPLAN). This is just for students in years 3, 5, 7, and 9, and it is mostly optional.
Parents can excuse their children, though there are no consequences for failing. Only (mostly) Asian parents are crazy anxious about it.
I didn’t think that this helped students in the long run. Eventually, there will be the final Year 12 exam if they want to have the High School Certificate. In 2022, 176.3% of students met the requirements of a Senior Secondary Certificate or equivalent. In some rural places, the figure is closer to 50%. We’re talking basic education.
Of course, there is a thriving trades industry in Australia that does not require a Year 12 qualification. While this may be good for some, it does little to raise the country’s literacy rate in the long term.
Our two boys benefited greatly from the education system here. They had very devoted teachers and, without the constant stress of exams, they enjoyed their learning and did well. My wife played a huge role in keeping them on track and interested at the same time , not an easy feat.
But I feel that the education system could benefit from a little more “push”. There is almost a careless disregard for academic achievements, and this becomes a concern as the world changes.
As the government talks about bringing back manufacturing and going high-tech with green energy, quantum computing, and AI. I can only wonder how we will do that if 1 in 5 kids leave school without a basic high school qualification.
My thoughts
“Oh, East is East and West is West,
and never the twain shall meet.”
Rudyard Kipling.
I do not think this has to be so. Each can take on the best of both. Each can still be unique, but learn from the other so that collectively, we are all better than when we started.
Having lived in Australia for over 15 years, I really appreciate the honesty and friendliness that we experience every day.
Equality is important, and it is the foundation for treating each other well.
Australians can learn from the East as well. The importance of building relationships and how that can enhance the “equality” that we value as a society. It can help us get along as we close the distance.
I appreciate the forthrightness Australians have with each other.
The direct, “no-beating-around-the-bush” conversations we have every day in our workplace or at the market.
But learning to be subtle also has benefits. While we may need fewer nods and winks, it doesn’t hurt to be sensitive to those close to us. The 3 sieves, attributed to Socrates, for deciding whether to say something, are still very relevant today:
Is it true?
Is it necessary?
Is it kind?
I am optimistic that Australia will do well in the decades to come. We have always been adaptive, and as they say, our hearts are in the right place. Our belief that everyone deserves a “fair go” has helped us integrate into a multicultural society. We are pretty cool.
We’re not perfect (but who is?), but we are striving to get there.
Source: Year 12 Certification Rates

