Letter From Singapore: The Yin and Yang of Gambling

March 21 issue — Passing a traffic accident recently, my taxi driver asked me to check out the cars' license-plate numbers. I thought it odd but assumed he wanted to be sure no one he knew was involved. Nope. It turned out to be just the latest macabre expression of Singapore's national sport: the Toto 4D lottery mania.

How do you play? Easy. If you pass an auto wreck, say, slow down and scope out the plates of the cars involved. Then buy a lottery ticket and plug in these "lucky" numbers to maximize your chances of winning. You see, superstitious Chinese gamblers believe that for everything bad, something good will happen. Combine that with the famous Chinese love for games of chance—casinos aren't allowed here (yet) but Singaporeans spend hundreds of millions a year betting on everything from horse racing to mah-jongg—and you get a phenomenon that can sometimes be, well, unsettling.

Some recent examples: A year or so ago, Ladan and Laleh Bijani, 29-year-old Iranian twins joined at the head since birth, died in Singapore during surgery to separate them. Punters used their ages and birth dates to play the lotto. (Spookily, one permutation came up trumps, bringing a small windfall to the winners.) When an 8-year-old girl named Huang Na was abducted from a crowded market last year, and later found murdered, gamblers used the tragedy to bet on 4D numbers related to the case. And on the day of the funeral, a thousand mourners showed up, some to give thanks for their winnings, others to touch little Na's hearse, hoping that some of her "money luck" would rub off.

It was probably only the intense media interest that prevented anyone from setting up a gambling operation at the wake. Believe me, that would not be uncommon here. Playing cards has always been a way for mourners to pass the time while keeping vigil. (Thus when mourners talk at such times of "holding a spade," you can be sure they're not volunteering for the gravedigging brigade.) More recently, it has been reported that some enterprising Singaporeans have been scoring off the newspaper obituary pages. They show up at a wake, get the permission of the bereaved family (for a fee) to set up a gambling table in some discreet corner. Then it's off to the races. Or whatever.

Lately another craze has come along: calling sports hot lines to get betting tips on football matches. The Straits Times recently reported that some poor souls are being fleeced, paying as much as $30 a call. (When the first service appeared, almost two years ago, it charged up to $145 a call. Hey, let's hear it for the price benefits of free-market competition!) With so many gullible people out there, I'm thinking of setting up my own hot line. No sports for me, though. Mine would cull data on daily traffic accidents, or offer wagers on trends in monthly road deaths.

In April, the government will finally decide whether to legalize casino gaming. With Singaporeans already gambling $3.7 billion a year (or $861 for every man, woman and child in the city-state), you might think the decision a no-brainer. In fact, the odds are but 50-50, largely for fear of the so-called social costs associated with Las Vegas-style gaming—among them, say the experts, prostitution, money laundering and gambling addiction.

Oops, let's forget that last. After all, what could be more obsessive than betting on a recently deceased's license plates or birthday? As for me, I'll be keeping my eye on the obits.