For years, our drains, sidewalks and public spaces have been treated as dumping grounds while authorities relied on slogans, half‑hearted campaigns and “gotong‑royong” drives that rarely lasted.

Now that real penalties are finally being enforced, we should welcome the move. But without sustained education, engagement and proper systems, any momentum will evaporate just as quickly.

A late but necessary wake‑up call 

A nation doesn’t become filthy overnight. It happens one sweet wrapper, one disposable cup, one illegal dump at a time—because people believe there are no consequences.

Firm enforcement is therefore a necessary shock, sending the message that littering is an offence that imposes real costs on everyone.

Still, the question remains: why did it take so long?

The links between waste, flooding and disease have been clear for decades. Blocked drains cause flash floods. Open dumping breeds pests. Neglected landfills harm nearby communities for generations.

Yet for years, our responses swung between indifference and cosmetic effort. By the time tougher laws arrived, bad habits were already entrenched.

But better late than never. When applied fairly and consistently, enforcement can reset norms—but it must be part of a wider system grounded in what professionals call the “5 E’s” of waste management.

The 5 E’s that matter

Most Malaysians know the 3R mantra—reduce, reuse, recycle—but that is only part of the solution. A genuinely clean nation depends on five interlocking principles:

• Education: Instil values and habits from a young age so that proper waste behaviour becomes instinctive, not fear‑driven.
• Enforcement: Apply clear laws and real penalties consistently to individuals and businesses, not just during sporadic sweeps.
• Engagement: Involve communities, NGOs, schools, religious bodies and businesses so everyone shares responsibility for their surroundings.
• Engineering: Provide infrastructure—bins, collection systems, transfer stations, sanitary landfills, waste‑to‑energy facilities—so that doing the right thing is easy. (By the way, what became of our waste-to-energy plan?)
• Economics: Use incentives and disincentives—rebates, deposit‑refunds, or pay‑as‑you‑throw schemes—to make proper disposal a lasting habit.

When any of these pillars is missing, the system weakens. Malaysia has made progress in engineering and, occasionally, enforcement. Engagement fluctuates, and economic levers are underused. But our biggest gap is in education—the foundation of long‑term change.

Environmental education: still missing in action 

For years, promises of environmental education have come and gone. Curricula were drafted, workshops launched, pilot programmes announced. Yet ask parents or students what they actually learn about waste today, and the answers are vague at best.

Is waste management taught as a serious subject, or left to the enthusiasm of individual teachers? Do students understand it as a real‑world challenge, or just something to memorise for exams?

One need only look at our school toilets for answers.

A public toilet reflects public values. A student who refuses to flush, leaves tissue on the floor or lets taps run shows not just untidiness, but detachment from shared responsibility. If we cannot maintain a clean school toilet, how can we expect clean rivers, roads or parks? The overflowing bin and broken tap are early warnings that we are still losing the battle for civic conscience.

Environmental education must therefore move beyond posters and one‑off talks. It should be hands‑on, continuous, and rooted in daily environments—the classroom, canteen, toilet, schoolyard, and nearby river.

When education, media and enforcement worked together

There was a time when Malaysians discussed waste management daily because it was everywhere—in classrooms, media and policy circles.

During one national communications drive, partnerships among government, media and the waste industry kept waste issues at the top of the public agenda. Four radio programmes aired daily in all major languages, turning “cleanliness” into a shared conversation. Newspapers ran regular features, while waste workers—long invisible—received recognition and awards at prominent venues. That validation boosted their pride and the quality of their work.

Lawmakers were briefed on legislative gaps and the costs of inaction. Colourful books on waste and cleanliness reached primary schools nationwide with ministry support, helping even young children understand responsibility in practical ways.

The effects were clear:

Less illegal dumping, higher recycling rates and a visible rise in public awareness. Waste workers walked taller. Citizens began to view waste as a shared duty, not an inconvenience managed by others.

It proved a powerful truth—when education, media and enforcement move in sync, public behaviour changes. Where, one wonders, is Solid Waste Management and Public Cleansing Corporation, a.k.a. SWCorp, in sustaining that coordination today?

Why we must revive these programmes

Those multi‑platform efforts have largely faded. Now, public messaging on waste is occasional, fragmented and easily ignored. Without constant reinforcement, old habits return. If the government is serious about its new anti‑littering laws, it must be equally serious about reviving nationwide education and engagement.

That means:

• Restoring regular radio, TV and social‑media segments on waste in all languages.
• Reintroducing school‑level activities and competitions rooted in actual school conditions—especially toilets and canteens.
• Recognising waste workers again as essential contributors to public hygiene.
• Updating policymakers and local councillors with reliable data to strengthen legislation and enforcement.

Above all, it means understanding that you cannot punish your way to a clean nation. Fines may deter, but they cannot cultivate pride, empathy or civic care.

A sustainable culture of cleanliness arises when enforcement is backed by education that is continuous and credible, engagement that treats citizens as partners, engineering that enables good behaviour, and economic tools that reward it.

Malaysia has done each of these well, at times. The real tragedy is that we allowed progress to stall just as change was taking root.

Now, with public attention refocused on littering, we have a second chance—to rebuild these efforts not as a short‑term campaign, but as a permanent national commitment.

The laws may have come late and the penalties may sting, but if we pair them with meaningful education and engagement, this could still mark a turning point—from a culture that tolerates litter to one that sees cleanliness as a civic duty to each other and the generations to come.

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