Arguably, structures like the Singapore Flyer have been a long time in the making. But what about the rush sales of old condominium estates, the never-ending construction of new apartments? What about this year's demolishment of heritage colonial bungalows in Seletar [1], complete with enforced evictions, with no prior public discussion?

Land-scarce with a growing population, there are some essential questions Singapore must ask itself regarding its attitude to urban planning. Should we demolish the old to build anew, or update what we already have? Bugis Junction (right) is a good example of how historical architecture has been given a modern twist. A glass roof and air conditioning have refreshed the shophouses, while allowing them to retain their former feel. This is authenticity at its best: the buildings have moved with the times without having their essential character changed, and now serve an updated function.

While happy, this is not a common story here. The unfortunate trait shared by urban planners from Beijing to New York afflicts us as well. This is the inability to realise the significance of organic, intrinsic value­in architecture, nature, and culture. As the win-win situation of Bugis illustrates, this doesn't necessarily need to be lost in the name of development. For a city to be truly vibrant, there must be raw elements that have been allowed to both originate and develop organically. Meaning cannot be enforced; it has to be ascribed, and by the people, rather than the authorities.

If a tourist were to ask where one can best experience rusticity in Singapore, I wouldn't recommend the tacky, excessively manicured D'Kranji Farm Resort. The answer is, and should be, Pulau Ubin, because it is truly the closest thing we have to a kampung village. The point is that, often, it is areas that have not been consciously developed that have the most to offer in terms of uniqueness, authenticity, and meaning. And it is precisely these qualities which an increasingly demanding generation of tourists are looking for.

If Singapore wants to keep attracting tourists, it must have something special to offer. How many other countries have shopping malls, seaside resorts and casinos? Sanitise and something is lost, that essence, that je ne sais quoi of true local flavour. And that we will lose, if luxury resorts are built on Pulau Ubin and our undeveloped islands. Framing this in Singaporean terms, integrating our built and natural heritage into the current urban landscape is in our best interests, because it is the pragmatic solution to finding a niche in the bloated tourism industry. That is part of the reason for Raffles Hotel's success – it is a building with a real, unique history. And even if this isn't about pragmatism, what does it profit a country to gain the world, and lose its soul?

Another related issue is why such a large population is even desirable. Singapore has, in multiple surveys, been top-rated by expatriates as the place to live. Will increasing the population to 6 million change this? Do we really want to become another Hong Kong, which lost to us in the rankings because expatriates find it overcrowded and polluted? These are questions we must ask ourselves, not out of sentimentality or vague pastoral notions, but because they will have profound implications on our quality of life in the very near future.