In her trenchantly-written analysis of the relationship between the People's Action Party government and the people, she argues that it is headed for ""a return of disaffection'' and, eventually, the erosion of the ""trust, respect and regard that has been painstakingly built up in the new dispensation of Singapore''.

Her thesis is simple: That ""extremely grim prospect'' will be the result of sticking to a ""strategy'' of managing public dissent, which worked well in the past, but which will no longer suffice in a future peopled by a more ""globally-exposed, younger, more articulate, impatient and restless generation of Singaporeans''.

In her eyes, the strategy is one in which while the government seems to encourage debate on policy decisions, yet ""when the noise reaches a certain level'', it steps in and says, with ""business-like briskness'': ""Enough. Let's get back to work.''

She cites the recent debate on ministerial pay as an example -- ""as good as any'' -- of how ""while both sides are having their due say, neither appears to believe it will make the least difference.''

NOT ALONE IN SEEING BLEAK PICTURE

FRUSTRATION, cynicism and disenchantment will be the outcomes, which, she argues, will lead eventually to a diminished loyalty to the nation, and the decline of Singapore as nation and home into a transit hotel, a way-station.

A bleak picture, but, so far so good. Dr Lim is not alone in seeing the dark clouds.

Others too, intellectual or otherwise, have cried for attention to be paid to precisely the same dangers, although perhaps few as eloquently.

Whether in their 20s or in their 70s (I know people in both categories), there are enough patriotic Singaporeans concerned about the future of the country to have raised these issues, including at Singapore 21 discussions.

What moves me to write this is something more specific. It is the concern that Dr Lim does not inadvertently throw out the baby with the bathwater.

By tarring all concerned with the same brush, Dr Lim risks killing the very thing she hopes to see flourish.

She says, in what are probably her most evocative passages: ""There is the eerie sensation of the observer that both sides are merely going through the motions and paces of a practised stance, doing an accustomed, tedious but necessary dance with each other...

""In the end, the situation remains the same, caught in a time warp where everything else around is moving on...

""Through this strategy, the government ensures that while people are publicly allowed any extent of disagreement, privately and quietly, their views can be disregarded.''

Disregarded? The indictment is a serious one. It implies not only that government calls for feedback have all been insincere, but also that all who have given feedback on policy issues, through whatever channels, have done so to no avail. All efforts have been futile.

There is also the impression -- which Dr Lim might not have intended -- that those who give feedback are no more than partners in a masked dance, the dance of public noise-making masquerading as policy consultation. If there is a ""patently manipulative'' strategy of managing public dissent, these people are culpable too.

Is that the case though?

Let us get the logic straight.

First, by no means can all those who have given their views on government policies -- civil-society groups, Forum letter-writers, people interviewed by the media, newspaper columnists themselves -- be considered parties to a conspiracy of faked consultation.

Some people in the civil-society groups will tell you that feedback fatigue is real, and it comes from repeatedly trying to persuade policymakers to change their minds about certain things.

If there are decisions which their efforts have failed to change, it is certainly not for want of trying.

Issues have been quietly laid to rest? If indeed there are examples, it can only be because some measure of social consensus was reached. Not always a perfect consensus, but wide enough.

Take one example that Dr Lim cites: single, unmarried mothers owning HDB flats. Apart from a handful of champions for this cause (I recall that the National Solidarity Party is one), there has been insufficient public concern to result in a policy reversal. Conservative Singaporeans still hugely outnumber the liberal humanists.

As for the other examples -- maid levies, Speakers' Corner registration, forums on gay issues -- the opinion of some has not been convincing enough to outweigh the opinion of others.

NOT GOD'S VOICE BUT VOTERS COUNT

MINISTERIAL pay? Dr Lim suggests that this, presumably, will also ""meet the same fate''.

But this is where she shoots herself in the foot: for earlier in her commentary she notes that the issue is ""once again provoking strong reaction from the people and causing them to raise their voices to a new level of concern''.

An issue is far from being laid to rest if response to it gets more spirited with each round of airing.

And ministerial pay is one of those which I am willing to bet my bottom dollar will not go away. Changed earlier this year after a five-year round, the formula that determines how much Cabinet members are paid is likely to be adjusted again when it next comes up for review.

And you will have public opinion to thank for that. The voice of the people may not be as mighty as the voice of God but, on this matter, voters do count. Double entendre intended.

But we don't have to wait another five years to see if feedback really does feed into policy decisions.

On Aug 8, National Development Minister Mah Bow Tan announced that his ministry would be getting two focus groups -- that is, non-officials, and drawn from the public -- involved in studying Singapore's land use.

The same day, he also spoke on a matter closer to the hearts of Singaporeans: killer litter.

The public -- and I, too, in a column on July 22 -- have been clamouring for more forms of punishment to be meted out to the throwers of these Unstoppable Flying Objects. The wish may become reality soon if what Mr Mah said about widening the range of penalties comes to pass.

Another example: The Speakers' Corner at Hong Lim Park, which will make its debut on Sept 1.

The Roundtable claims credit for the idea, and its members intend to be there that day to make their mark. ""Use it or lose it,'' as Nominated MP and Roundtable member Simon Tay says.

He is certainly one who believes it better to light a candle than to curse the darkness.

MECHANISMS TAKE ON LIFE OF THEIR OWN

THE ""grim prospect'' of a nation sliding down the slippery road of disaffection does not deter him from making full use of the feedback processes and channels in existence now.

Are these processes and channels mere vents and valves for the release of pressure?

I was asked this question by a post-doctoral researcher from a British university recently.

Yes and no, I said. Yes, they might have been instituted for that purpose, although I am more inclined to think that there was a genuine desire to obtain feedback.

But, once they are in place, these mechanisms take on a life of their own. Feedback generates a momentum from which there is often no turning back.

And the ruling authorities do eventually have to cede some power to the people, whether they like it or not.

So having said all that, what is one to make of Dr Lim's remarks?

Let me say here that I do not know Dr Lim personally, and know of her only through her writings.

Her latest contribution to the Straits Times, I would say, are the musings of a patriot whose idealism has not been diminished by the years.

Her lamentations are those of one brought up to expect the best and the most from his or her rulers.

Cuddled for decades within the tight embrace of a paternalistic government that has encouraged its citizens to think of it as a caring and sympathetic sole provider, any emergence of disaffection is bound to send their internal alarm bells ringing.

It is healthy. It tells us that citizens are concerned about Singapore's future. Willy-nilly, the quest to build a Singapore identity is taking root.

If Dr Lim will not reprimand me for being bo tua bo suay (disrespectful to elders), I would like to say this to her: Don't let pessimism cloud the possibilities. There is no fruit which is not bitter before it is ripe.

In her own way, one hopes, she is contributing to that ripening process.

[Ms Chua is a senior writer with the Straits Times .]