From Boo Jia Cher

After decades of car-centric planning, new rail lines offer hope for more connected, human-centred towns and cities.

For decades, Malaysia built itself around highways, cars and the logic of speed over place.

The result is a lopsided nation: Kuala Lumpur dominates as the urban core, itself trapped in a schizophrenic mess of new rail lines alongside endless highways, while secondary cities struggle and countless towns become places you zoom past, not places you stop in.

It’s a story many of us are tired of telling and, perhaps, even more tired of hearing.

But something has shifted.

The recent opening of the new ETS line linking Johor Bahru and Kuala Lumpur felt different.

For once, the mood wasn’t scepticism or anger, but hope. Social media filled with images of packed trains, families travelling without cars, people marvelling at how fast and comfortable it felt. The vibes, as they say, were good.

It felt like a small but meaningful correction, an admission, however late, that we took a wrong turn decades ago.

A belated pivot 

The JB–KL ETS line won’t undo decades of car-centric planning, but it matters symbolically: Johor Bahru is more than a border town or weekend traffic jam, hinting at a future where regional cities can thrive.

This is not happening in isolation.

The MRT3 is coming to the Klang Valley. The Klang Valley Double Track (KVDT) upgrades the Rawang–Salak South and KL Sentral–Port Klang/Seremban lines.

The East Coast Rail Link (ECRL) is finally taking shape. LRT Mutiara is under construction in Penang, JB is planning its own transit network ahead of the RTS Link with Singapore, bus fleets are expanding, and even the delayed LRT3 will eventually open.

Transport minister Loke Siew Fook has urged developers to cut parking bays near stations, encouraging public transport use, a long-overdue nod to sensible land-use planning.

None of this is perfect or fast enough, but together it signals a gradual pivot from total car dependency. Better late than never.

More than speed 

The real question is whether rail will do more than move commuters faster. Speed is not the only point. What matters too is whether rail can reshape how the country grows.

Elsewhere, it has. In Japan, rail has produced entire urban ecosystems, with daily life organised around stations that function as commercial and social centres. In the Netherlands, dense rail and tram networks keep even small towns relevant and walkable, rather than hollowed out by highways.

Malaysia once understood this too. Towns like Taiping, Kluang, and Ipoh were railway towns: compact, legible and walkable, with street grids leading naturally to the station.

Shops, kopitiams, markets, and cinemas clustered nearby. People arrived on foot, waited, lingered, and met. The station was an anchor.

Then highways arrived. Traffic sped up, towns were bypassed, and activity drained toward petrol stations and hypermarkets; soulless utilitarian spaces designed for getting in and getting out. Railway towns didn’t fail; the development logic changed.

Rail doesn’t just transport people; it creates places. Stations become centres of activity. Towns sidelined by expressways can re-enter the map. Distance becomes less punishing, opportunity less centralised.

Imagine how ETS stops can revitalise Taiping or Kuala Kangsar. Imagine Kluang or Segamat becoming viable places in which to live again. Imagine Gemas returning as a genuine interchange town, with cafés, small businesses, and housing oriented toward the station, not the highway.

This won’t happen automatically. Without land-use planning, faster trains will simply funnel people into already dominant centres. In areas without walkable streets, stations will remain isolated, serving only as a conduit to car parks.

But without rail, we can’t even begin. The possibility is finally there.

From bypass to arrival

Highway-first development trained us to experience space at 110kph. Towns became a blur. Streets became obstacles. Walking retreated to malls and parks.

Rail offers a different rhythm. It encourages arrival, not bypass. It creates reasons to linger. It makes walking possible again.

Will town centres regain dignity? Will public life re-emerge beyond air-conditioned enclosures? I hope so.

Choosing hope, cautiously 

In Malaysia, hope is dangerous. Too many grand plans have dissolved into delays and half-measures. Cynicism often feels safer.

But full ETS trains, progress in Penang, and the promise of MRT3 remind us that change, however slow, is possible.

We may never recover the decades lost to car-centric thinking. But we can still choose what comes next, if policymakers put their foot down and prioritise a sustainable, human-centric approach to transport and urban planning, rather than one shaped by cronyism or developer profits.

A more rail-centred Malaysia won’t just be about efficiency or emissions. It will be about dignity, accessibility, and human-scaled cities; towns worth stopping in, streets worth walking on, and a country connected not just by asphalt, but by shared spaces.

Better late than never. And perhaps, finally, better than before.

Boo Jia Cher is an FMT reader.

The views expressed are those of the writer and do not necessarily reflect those of FMT.