Why Singaporeans are avoiding travel to the US

You can feel it in group chats when someone floats the idea: “How about a road trip in the US?”
The replies come fast. Long flights. Gun violence. Immigration hassle. Can we do Japan instead?

While post-pandemic travel has roared back across Asia, Singaporeans have quietly stopped chasing American holidays. And it’s not just because of the distance. Filipino families are visiting Disneyland again. Thai and Indian tourists are filling New York tour groups. But Singaporeans? We’re going elsewhere.

There’s no single reason—but a stack of emotional, cultural, and practical ones building up. If anything, it reflects how global travel is becoming less about destination envy—and more about values alignment, effort-reward tradeoffs, and psychological safety.

Let’s start with the obvious tension. Singaporeans are raised in one of the safest countries in the world. Walking home at 2am doesn’t feel brave—it feels normal. Our crime rate is low, gun ownership is non-existent, and the worst thing most kids experience growing up is a MRT delay. So when stories surface about American cities—carjackings, mass shootings, homeless encampments taking over entire streets—it cuts through. The mental image of the US has shifted from aspirational to unstable.

Even if the probability is low, the emotional toll is high. No one wants to plan a family vacation where your kid might see someone get mugged outside a Walgreens. But it’s not just about safety. It’s about belonging.

Singaporeans—especially those with brown skin or visible Muslim identity—often talk about the unease of US immigration. The stares. The questions. The “random” screenings. You walk into JFK not as a guest, but as a suspect. No matter how polite the officer is, the power imbalance is loud.

And for a country that prides itself on global mobility and passport power, that loss of dignity stings. When Europe and Japan treat you like a welcome traveler—and the US treats you like a potential threat—it’s no longer just about logistics. It’s about respect.

Ironically, the same red flags don’t seem to deter others. Chinese tourists, who had been shut out for years by zero-COVID policies, are eager to explore again—often with bucket-list intensity. Indian travelers are visiting family, checking off Silicon Valley stops, and buying into the Ivy League dream. Vietnamese and Indonesian tourists are expanding their travel range post-visa reforms.

In other words, for many Asian travelers, the US still represents opportunity, aspiration, novelty. But for Singaporeans, it increasingly feels like a mismatch. We've seen it. We’ve studied there. We’ve done the outlets and the Uber surge pricing. And we’ve started asking: is this really how we want to spend our leave days?

The answer is often no.

What’s emerging is a travel calculus that has nothing to do with price or miles—and everything to do with emotional effort. A holiday in the US takes work. You have to plan around tipping culture, medical insurance, racial dynamics, and public transport that barely exists outside of major cities. Add to that the 20+ hours of flying and jet lag, and the margin for joy feels thinner than ever.

Compare that with a direct flight to Hokkaido. Or a long weekend in Seoul. Or a nature retreat in New Zealand. These places don’t just offer beauty—they offer ease. Ease of movement. Ease of mind. Ease of expectation. And in a world where burnout is real and boundaries are sacred, ease has become a new kind of luxury.

Then there’s the cultural dissonance. Singaporeans are deeply attuned to global politics, especially among younger generations. And the United States—once a symbol of liberal values and innovation—has been cracking.

We’ve seen reproductive rights rolled back. We’ve watched racial justice protests met with military-grade suppression. We’ve seen anti-Asian hate spike. And we’ve internalized it. For some, it’s about safety. For others, it’s moral discomfort. A sense that visiting the US means absorbing—if not endorsing—a system that feels increasingly broken.

It’s not that Singaporeans are politically disengaged. If anything, it’s the opposite. We’re sensitive to what a place feels like, not just what it advertises. And when a country’s image is one of conflict, corruption, and casual cruelty, it doesn’t make for great holiday vibes.

In the early 2000s, a holiday to the US was a flex. You came back with outlet mall hauls, Shake Shack stories, and Target memes. But Gen Z and late millennials aren’t measuring travel by shopping bags anymore. The vibe has shifted.

Now, the currency of travel is intentionality. Slow cafes in Scandinavia. Forest cabins in Korea. Culture walks in southern Italy. A wellness retreat in Bhutan. Even the rise of Japanese tourism among Singaporeans isn’t just about convenience. It’s about a different kind of aspiration: ritual, respect, quiet luxury. The US—with its chaotic airports, racial volatility, and unwalkable cities—feels out of sync with that desire.

TikTok plays a quiet but powerful role in all of this. We’re watching videos of American cities falling apart. We’re seeing creators post about theft, street harassment, rising prices, and declining standards. And unlike curated travel ads, these aren’t polished promos—they’re real-time, unfiltered glimpses into daily dysfunction.

So even if your rational brain says, “But New York is amazing,” your emotional brain remembers the video of the woman crying on the subway after being verbally assaulted. That’s the version of America that sticks. And in a scroll economy, vibes matter more than visa policy.

Let’s be honest: a trip to the US isn’t cheap.

Airfare alone can cross S$1,800 per person. Hotels in LA or San Francisco can run S$400 a night. Add in tipping, car rental, insurance, and meal inflation, and you’re looking at a S$10,000 family holiday, easy. That’s fine—if the experience matches the spend. But when you’re paying luxury prices and getting logistical chaos, indifferent service, and social unease? The value equation breaks.

Singaporean travelers are not stingy. But they are discerning. They know what five-star feels like in Japan or Bali. And they’re unwilling to settle for less—especially when “less” includes being treated like a security risk at the airport.

What this avoidance signals isn’t fear—it’s a reset. Singaporeans are no longer traveling to impress. We’re traveling to restore. To learn. To connect. To breathe.

The new prestige isn’t landing in New York. It’s cooking with locals in Hanoi, trekking in Patagonia, or spending three weeks learning pottery in Chiang Mai. The badge of honor is no longer how far you went. It’s how present you were when you got there. And for many, the US simply doesn’t offer that. Not now. Maybe not ever again.

Some Singaporeans will still go. Business, education, family ties—those things don’t disappear overnight. But as a leisure destination, the US is falling behind. Because leisure now means safety. Means clarity. Means values. Means softness, not spectacle.

We’re not scared of the US. We’re just not aligned with it anymore. And until that changes, we’ll be planning our next trip somewhere that feels not just exciting—but safe, seen, and sane.