SINGAPORE: At this year’s National Day Rally, Prime Minister Lawrence Wong announced a major shift: Singapore will no longer treat vaping like a tobacco issue but as a drug problem, with stiffer penalties and stronger enforcement nationwide.
From Sep 1, the government will classify etomidate – an anaesthetic found in Kpods – as a Class C controlled drug under the Misuse of Drugs Act: Dealers face jail sentences and potentially caning, while users will have to undergo supervision and rehabilitation, with repeat offenders risking jail.
The goal is clear: to close the loophole that has left Kpods in a grey zone – with etomidate not classified as a controlled drug and vapes carrying lighter penalties under tobacco laws – and to curb circulation.
Yet history shows that where demand persists, supply adapts. Though e-vaporisers have been banned since 2018, vaping offences have been on the rise, indicating that sales just shifted underground.
Unless demand is reduced, it is only a matter of time until Kpods are replaced by something else.
Singapore’s drug education has focused strongly on deterrence, highlighting penalties and health risks. A government microsite Stop Vaping has since been rolled out and is focused on action, promising “no penalties if you bin it and quit now”.
But warnings, often framed in clinical terms, may not resonate with young people. The risk of organ damage or nervous system impairment is real, but it feels distant to a teenager curious about “just a few puffs” or convinced they haven’t vaped enough to be at risk.
Such warnings are effective only when rules appear watertight. Once a product seems to fall outside the law, or marketed as safer, fear fades.
For example, sellers have been spreading misinformation that Kpods were undetectable and safe, since etomidate is used in hospitals. Fear gave way to curiosity, peer influence and novelty.
Another challenge is how young users are portrayed. Narratives often assume vulnerability – youths struggling with stress or unstable lives – and present drug use as a coping mechanism. For some this is true.
But many experiment out of curiosity – in an IMH study released in 2023, as many as one in five said they had used drugs – or boredom, drawn by the thrill of trying something new.
For these youths, messages about rehabilitation feel irrelevant. A self-assured student who tries Kpods with friends would not identify with a poster of a distressed addict, and may dismiss the campaign as out of touch. This mismatch damages credibility.
When young people feel stereotyped or lectured, they are more likely to turn instead to peers, online sources, or even suppliers – places where there is little judgment but plenty of misinformation. Authorities lose both influence and the chance to channel curiosity constructively.
To reduce demand, drug education must evolve. Young people should not be talked down to as passive recipients of warnings but treated as inquisitive decision-makers who deserve clear, relatable information.
1. Reframing the product
Illegal vapes and Kpods are marketed as sleek, discreet devices. Their appeal lies not just in the effects but also the thrill of secrecy.
But users may not see the full picture: Dealers exploit curiosity for profit and do not care if their misinformation ultimately harms users' health or personal lives – from lung injury and addiction, to possibly getting kicked out of school or losing their jobs as more institutes of higher learning and workplaces get tougher on vaping. There is also absolutely no way to trust that what the supplier sells will guarantee the promised experience, with every chance a user will instead lose control of bodily functions while hallucinating wildly.
They can be better reframed as scammers – hawking harmful and unreliable products designed to take youths for fools and drain their wallets.
There’s also a balancing act when it comes to what to call drug-laced vapes. In Hong Kong, where hundreds of cases have surfaced this year, officials initially suggested calling them “zombie oil” to puncture the more adventurous-sounding “space oil” appeal but eventually decided to stick with the clinical “etomidate”. Whether the terms resonate with youths might make the difference between discouraging them from the vapes or from the messaging.
2. Moving from one-way lectures
Drug education often relies on snappy slogans, making it harder to provide information needed to make decisions. A more effective approach could explain how substances actually harm the body with short- and long-term use, and how risks escalate when mixed with other unregulated ingredients.
Concrete examples could help address questions youths likely have not considered: how pod strength can vary wildly, why a dose safe for one could overwhelm another, or how withdrawal is a physiological response and not “just in the mind.” The aim is not to condone use, but to equip youths with facts to resist rumours and false marketing.
This requires dialogue rather than one-way lectures. Young people should be able to raise questions without fear of judgement, and adults need the tools to respond with clarity and empathy.
Training must give educators both scientific knowledge and the skills for nuanced discussions. Parents and caregivers, often the first line of conversation, also need resources and confidence to respond.
Where youths may hesitate to approach teachers or families, alternative channels are essential. Just as Kpod sales thrive in encrypted spaces like Telegram, education can meet youths where they already are – online. Imagine an anonymous Q&A support platform, separate from enforcement that offers accurate, stigma-free information.
Influencers can also play a role, but only if they are empowered to channel authenticity. When they parrot slogans, the effect is often “cringe”. But when given freedom to tell their own stories or expose scams, they can connect with audiences that official campaigns cannot reach.
The new law sends a strong signal on supply, but updating Singapore’s drug education will be just as critical to reducing demand.
Breaking the cycle means pairing enforcement with open and respectful dialogue trust-building, so each new substance is met not only with penalties but also with awareness that strips away allure.
By building this resilience, Singapore can stay ahead of the next synthetic product and protect youths more effectively.
Elyssa Liu leads the Legal Frameworks and Governance team at the Duke-NUS Centre for Outbreak Preparedness in Singapore.
Continue reading...
From Sep 1, the government will classify etomidate – an anaesthetic found in Kpods – as a Class C controlled drug under the Misuse of Drugs Act: Dealers face jail sentences and potentially caning, while users will have to undergo supervision and rehabilitation, with repeat offenders risking jail.
The goal is clear: to close the loophole that has left Kpods in a grey zone – with etomidate not classified as a controlled drug and vapes carrying lighter penalties under tobacco laws – and to curb circulation.
Yet history shows that where demand persists, supply adapts. Though e-vaporisers have been banned since 2018, vaping offences have been on the rise, indicating that sales just shifted underground.
Unless demand is reduced, it is only a matter of time until Kpods are replaced by something else.
WHEN FEAR FALLS SHORT
Singapore’s drug education has focused strongly on deterrence, highlighting penalties and health risks. A government microsite Stop Vaping has since been rolled out and is focused on action, promising “no penalties if you bin it and quit now”.
But warnings, often framed in clinical terms, may not resonate with young people. The risk of organ damage or nervous system impairment is real, but it feels distant to a teenager curious about “just a few puffs” or convinced they haven’t vaped enough to be at risk.
Such warnings are effective only when rules appear watertight. Once a product seems to fall outside the law, or marketed as safer, fear fades.
For example, sellers have been spreading misinformation that Kpods were undetectable and safe, since etomidate is used in hospitals. Fear gave way to curiosity, peer influence and novelty.
Related:
"THAT COULD NEVER BE ME"
Another challenge is how young users are portrayed. Narratives often assume vulnerability – youths struggling with stress or unstable lives – and present drug use as a coping mechanism. For some this is true.
But many experiment out of curiosity – in an IMH study released in 2023, as many as one in five said they had used drugs – or boredom, drawn by the thrill of trying something new.
For these youths, messages about rehabilitation feel irrelevant. A self-assured student who tries Kpods with friends would not identify with a poster of a distressed addict, and may dismiss the campaign as out of touch. This mismatch damages credibility.
When young people feel stereotyped or lectured, they are more likely to turn instead to peers, online sources, or even suppliers – places where there is little judgment but plenty of misinformation. Authorities lose both influence and the chance to channel curiosity constructively.
ADAPTING EDUCATION TO CHALLENGES OF KPODS AND MORE
To reduce demand, drug education must evolve. Young people should not be talked down to as passive recipients of warnings but treated as inquisitive decision-makers who deserve clear, relatable information.
1. Reframing the product
Illegal vapes and Kpods are marketed as sleek, discreet devices. Their appeal lies not just in the effects but also the thrill of secrecy.
But users may not see the full picture: Dealers exploit curiosity for profit and do not care if their misinformation ultimately harms users' health or personal lives – from lung injury and addiction, to possibly getting kicked out of school or losing their jobs as more institutes of higher learning and workplaces get tougher on vaping. There is also absolutely no way to trust that what the supplier sells will guarantee the promised experience, with every chance a user will instead lose control of bodily functions while hallucinating wildly.
They can be better reframed as scammers – hawking harmful and unreliable products designed to take youths for fools and drain their wallets.
There’s also a balancing act when it comes to what to call drug-laced vapes. In Hong Kong, where hundreds of cases have surfaced this year, officials initially suggested calling them “zombie oil” to puncture the more adventurous-sounding “space oil” appeal but eventually decided to stick with the clinical “etomidate”. Whether the terms resonate with youths might make the difference between discouraging them from the vapes or from the messaging.
Related:
2. Moving from one-way lectures
Drug education often relies on snappy slogans, making it harder to provide information needed to make decisions. A more effective approach could explain how substances actually harm the body with short- and long-term use, and how risks escalate when mixed with other unregulated ingredients.
Concrete examples could help address questions youths likely have not considered: how pod strength can vary wildly, why a dose safe for one could overwhelm another, or how withdrawal is a physiological response and not “just in the mind.” The aim is not to condone use, but to equip youths with facts to resist rumours and false marketing.
This requires dialogue rather than one-way lectures. Young people should be able to raise questions without fear of judgement, and adults need the tools to respond with clarity and empathy.
Training must give educators both scientific knowledge and the skills for nuanced discussions. Parents and caregivers, often the first line of conversation, also need resources and confidence to respond.
Related:
Where youths may hesitate to approach teachers or families, alternative channels are essential. Just as Kpod sales thrive in encrypted spaces like Telegram, education can meet youths where they already are – online. Imagine an anonymous Q&A support platform, separate from enforcement that offers accurate, stigma-free information.
Influencers can also play a role, but only if they are empowered to channel authenticity. When they parrot slogans, the effect is often “cringe”. But when given freedom to tell their own stories or expose scams, they can connect with audiences that official campaigns cannot reach.
BUILDING RESILIENCE TO FUTURE THREATS
The new law sends a strong signal on supply, but updating Singapore’s drug education will be just as critical to reducing demand.
Breaking the cycle means pairing enforcement with open and respectful dialogue trust-building, so each new substance is met not only with penalties but also with awareness that strips away allure.
By building this resilience, Singapore can stay ahead of the next synthetic product and protect youths more effectively.
Elyssa Liu leads the Legal Frameworks and Governance team at the Duke-NUS Centre for Outbreak Preparedness in Singapore.
Continue reading...