From Boo Jia Cher
The recent fight at a mamak restaurant in Shah Alam, where a smoker lashed out at a couple, even an eight-month-pregnant woman, simply because they told him to stop, struck a raw nerve online.
The outrage was instant, and it wasn’t just about that one man who, incidentally, has been arrested. It was about larger sicknesses that everyone in Malaysia is aware of but can rarely act upon.
It is the fact that enforcement here is pathetic, and too many smokers (and rule-breakers in general) see themselves as entitled people and that the world revolves around their convenience.
Netizens watched the video, got angry, shared their frustrations… and then what? Nothing changed. Because deep down, we all know the system is too weak to protect us.
I was reminded of this the next morning when I had breakfast at a mamak outlet in KL city centre. Multiple tables of men were smoking openly inside, as if the law didn’t exist. The staff walked around them without saying a word.
Why should they risk their jobs, or even their safety, to confront some puffed-up uncle who thinks smoking is his right? These workers, mostly foreigners on minimum wage, have no incentive to stand up to entitled customers.
Some patrons even retaliate in ugly ways like sabotaging food, planting pests just to “punish” restaurants that enforce the law. So the staff look the other way. And the smoke, like the entitlement, hangs in the air.
But this isn’t just about smoking. It’s about Malaysia’s everyday rot. It’s the double-parkers blocking everyone else, the cars and motorbikes dumped on pavements and bus stops, the drivers who barrel through red lights without blinking.
It’s the tissue paper and cigarette butts flicked onto the ground as if the street is one giant ashtray. It’s construction companies dumping waste into open land, drains and rivers, hawkers setting up illegally on sidewalks, stalls popping out of car boots.
This culture of entitlement runs deep. It tells people that rules are flexible, that public space belongs to whoever is selfish enough to claim it, that consideration for others is optional.
And why does it keep happening? Because enforcement in Malaysia is simply weak. Laws are passed in Parliament, slogans are plastered across billboards, but out on the streets it’s a free-for-all.
Every now and then we get “Ops Sikap” or some other publicity blitz. For a few days, maybe a week, people get caught for various offences. Then enforcement fades, and everything slides back to the way it was.
Everyone knows this. That’s why people break the rules so casually. They’ve learned that enforcement is temporary, consequences are negotiable.
And if you’re unlucky enough to get fined, just wait until the holiday season when the government hands out 70% discounts on fines like ang pows. The message is clear: break the law, stall for time and you’ll be rewarded.
But here’s the thing: other countries have faced the same problems and fixed them.
Singapore didn’t become clean and orderly by magic. They made littering and smoking violations punishable with hefty fines and rules are enforced consistently, not once in a while.
In Japan, where smoking indoors is now almost unheard of, ashtrays disappeared from restaurants overnight once the government made it clear: break the rule, lose your licence.
In New York City, restaurants don’t need to beg patrons to stop smoking because everyone knows inspectors will show up, and the penalties are brutal enough that owners enforce the rules themselves.
These places didn’t succeed because their citizens are magically “more disciplined”. They succeeded because the state had the spine to enforce the law relentlessly, without exceptions, festive season discounts or fear of losing votes.
Malaysia can do the same, if it wants. Enforce the smoking ban mercilessly, with inspectors making rounds daily. Issue fines on the spot.
We pay instantly for food and drinks, so why should fines be any different? Hit both patrons and establishments, and if the offence repeats, revoke the restaurant’s licence.
Scrap traffic fine discounts once and for all. The government should not be subsidising bad behaviour.
Build public reporting systems that actually work: in Taiwan, residents can snap photos of illegal dumpers or double-parkers, send them to the authorities and watch enforcement happen in real time. That empowers the public, shifts culture and restores faith in the system.
Patriotism isn’t waving flags and posting “Happy Malaysia Day” graphics. It’s the hard, unglamorous work of cleaning up our own backyard, of insisting that the law is not negotiable.
We love to talk about unity, but unity around what? A shared cynicism? A shared habit of breaking the rules? If we want something better, it starts with a simple truth: nobody is special, nobody is entitled and the law applies to everyone, all the time.
Until that day comes, Malaysia will keep drowning in smoke, trash, traffic and entitlement.
But it doesn’t have to. We already know the cure. We’ve seen it work elsewhere. What we need is the will to apply it here every single day, not just during Malaysia Day speeches.
Boo Jia Cher is an FMT reader.
The views expressed are those of the writer and do not necessarily reflect those of FMT.
