It's been a mere week since the residents of Kangar found out that all new buildings in the town will be painted pink, but another idea has already been mooted in Negri Sembilan for the sake of a similarly cheery outcome.

No architecture will be tampered with, but this is what's happening: People in the state that most recently made national news with the JE/Nipah outbreak and the resultant porcine holocaust are being told to smile more often.

The State Unity and Consumer Affairs Committee chairman T. Rajagopalu says, "We will emphasise on inculcating a 'smiling' culture among the younger generation, particularly schoolchildren."

The campaign will begin in June, and he will hold discussions with the State Unity Department, senior organisations and headmasters on how to make the campaign a sparkling success.

I am sure Mr. Rajagopalu is a sincere, well-intentioned sort. And I certainly am not sour enough to believe his campaign is fuelled by any shares he might have in Colgate or Darlie.

But I don't quite see the point of his plan, especially when it's targeted at children who are already forced to lug around heavy schoolbags and suffer the trauma of not knowing whether to pronounce the "p" in psikologi during their BM oral exams. Don't they have enough on their plate already?

Forcing people to be nice and cheerful is never a good idea. They will just end up resenting you and this could lead to all sorts of complications. JG Ballard's novella Running Wild aptly demonstrates this.

Set in a picture-perfect community, it's about a group of children who are sick of having every facet of their lives controlled by well-meaning bourgeois parents. The kids finally decide to slaughter all the adults and get the hell out of that artificial haven. It is safe to say that if a movie adaptation is ever made, it will never get pride of place on our avowedly "feel good" ntv7 channel.

Ballard's dark dystopia taps into a primeval truth. Staff at fast-food joints are trained to smile like simpletons all the time, but it's not for nothing that the ambience in those places is redolent of a certain blandness, a dangerous homogeneity.

Contrast that with your neighbourhood grocer who's never called upon to exhibit artificial cheer, but who seems all the more likable and trustworthy for it. It's a paradox that the more you smile, the less human you seem.

Think of those shudder-inducing portraits of a smiling Saddam Hussein with children on his lap during the Gulf War. Think of those grinning Miss Universe contestants, tottering on high heels and a prayer, murderously intent on charming your socks off.

Don't stop there. Ever notice how when the neighbours of American serial killers are interviewed on TV, they always say things like: "He always seemed like such a nice, cheerful guy. Who would have thought that he had all those heads in his fridge?" You almost never hear of a serial killer with a grumpy reputation - and that says it all, really.

"Niceness" is not the same as genuine kindness, of which we would certainly like to see more. Niceness is only about ostentation; it's a pernicious display that refers to nothing but itself. The tyranny of the Niceness Nazis knows no bounds. They say "Have a nice day" like it's some kind of order or threat. They even type smiley faces, through a weird combination of brackets and dashes and colons, in the text of their e-mail.

Have they no shame? Or have we all regressed into some infantile, pre-literate state? Amusing Ourselves to Death is the title of a book about media culture; it can also describe our mad, bad obsession with superficial displays of personal well-being.

As a progressive libertarian, I believe that the state already intervenes too much into the things we say and do. I realise I am on the Loony Leftie fringe here, but I don't see why government agencies should care about the way I dress, talk or have intimate relations with a Dear Daniel doll in the privacy of my own orgy-room. It's my party and I'll scowl if I want to.

Mr. Rajagopalu, in an interesting glimpse of autobiography, revealed a traumatic experience that led to the inception of the campaign. He had walked around in a shopping complex for the express purpose of smiling at people.

"I overheard a few shoppers who remarked that I was gay or gatal (horny)," he said regretfully.

Well, I sympathise. Maybe he should practice a little in front of a mirror so that the sight of his bared teeth will not invite imputations of homosexuality or lasciviousness. But in the meantime, stop pouring sunshine on our parade.