Environmentalism needs the soul — Azizi Abu Bakar

Malay Mail

18-07-2025

JULY 18 — In Malaysia, conversations about the environment are everywhere — from school murals to government masterplans. We talk about climate change, biodiversity, clean energy, and zero waste. Yet despite this growing awareness, our rivers are still polluted, and our forests still falling. Why? Because we often forget that caring for the environment is not only a scientific issue — it is a deeply human one.
We're taught to treat environmentalism as a technical puzzle: install solar panels, reduce emissions, calculate carbon footprints. But the planet isn't just a system to be fixed. It's a relationship to be mended. And relationships don't thrive on data alone — they require empathy, care, and meaning.
I've seen community projects struggle because they lacked this emotional connection. Without a sense of belonging or shared purpose, even the best-funded initiatives fall flat. Environmentalism loses its power when it becomes transactional. It regains that power when it becomes personal. We usually don't protect what we don't feel connected to.
Today, environmental activists across Malaysia are out there cleaning rivers, picking up trash, restoring forests. But their work should never be misunderstood as simply correcting what others — whether locals or tourists — have done wrong. These acts are not punishment. They are invitations. They are living examples of hope. In Malay culture, we call this suri teladan — to lead by example.
When someone bends down to collect a plastic bottle from the riverbank, they are not just removing trash. They are reminding us what dignity and care look like. They are performing a small, visible act of devotion to the mother earth, in hopes that others will feel moved to do the same. Goodness is contagious. When we witness someone doing good, it awakens something inside us. We feel inspired to join in. And that is how transformation spreads — not by force, but by example.
Some people hesitate to speak out about environmental issues because they fear being seen as hypocrites. 'How can I talk about zero waste if I still use plastic?' 'How can I ask others to plant trees if I haven't yet planted one?' But here's the truth: it is okay to call others to do good even if you're still trying to do it yourself. Every change begins with an intention. Every good habit starts with a conversation, a reminder, a nudge. Sometimes, saying it out loud — even before we fully live it — is part of becoming the person who eventually does. What matters is sincerity. When we speak from the heart, not to lecture but to spark thought, we're helping to build the foundation for action both in others and in ourselves.
Environmentalist should never be misunderstood as simply correcting what others have done wrong. — Picture fron Unsplash/Colin Meg
In many ways, Malaysians are still being pampered by a system that protects us from inconvenience. For example, we are not yet required to strictly segregate domestic waste. We're not faced with the reality that our unseparated garbage could be left in front of our homes indefinitely, or that we would have to wait until a certain day — and only that day — for it to be collected. We may say, 'It's fine, we still have land,' but the real question is: do we need to wait until we have no other choice but to live on top of it? Environmental action shouldn't begin only when we're pushed to the edge. It should begin with awareness and a willingness to shift — even before crisis forces us to. Comfort is not an excuse for complacency.
The good news is we can change. We've seen it before. There was a time when people in Malaysia casually used parking spots designated for persons with disabilities. But after constant exposure through television commercial breaks, social media reminders, and signage campaigns — something clicked. Today, most people respect those parking spaces without question. It's not just about enforcement. It's about a collective shift in values. We now understand that those spaces are a matter of dignity and fairness. We learned to do the right thing, even when no one was watching. This is proof that when values are communicated consistently and compassionately, people respond.
Although I work in an office setting, I once took the opportunity to join a beach cleanup activity at selected beaches in Pahang and Terengganu. It was part of a research programme focused on identifying plastic waste in coastal environments. Our centre's director was one of the co-investigators and joined us in the activity. At first, I joined out of curiosity — I wanted to experience something new in life. But the experience shifted my perspective completely.
As we picked up all sorts of trash along the beach, I saw and felt how much waste ends up where it shouldn't — not only waste manufactured locally that I was familiar with, but also foreign-labelled waste, including from countries like Vietnam. I remembered what I'd learned: plastic takes around 450 years to decompose. And suddenly, it wasn't just a fact — it was real. Tangible. Heavy in my hands. It struck me — this is not just a programme. It's a reflection of what we owe to the environment. It's not the sole responsibility of cleaning staff. It's all of us. We don't do this every day — we still have other responsibilities and tasks — but we show up when we can, because it matters. Today it might be us. Tomorrow, it could be you. We all have a role to play.
A similar situation reminded me of this truth during a river cleanup along the Selangor River, which I joined as part of a mobility programme with Australian students. As we collected waste along the riverbank, we discovered that more than half of what we picked up was recyclable. It made me wonder — if we all truly understood that these materials could have been sorted and repurposed, there would be far less waste to begin with. More importantly, none of it should have ended up in the river at all. This is not something that takes complex policy to fix — it's something that can be avoided if we all simply remember that rivers are not a dumping ground.
And it made me reflect further — why do we Malaysians admire good practices abroad, but rarely bring them home? We see how people in other countries clear their tables in restaurants, manage their waste responsibly, or act with basic courtesy in shared spaces. Why can't we do the same here? Yes, it's someone's job to clean up — but wouldn't it be kinder if we made it easier for them?
During that same beach cleanup, something unexpected happened — the van driver who had been with us throughout the trip quietly began collecting trash too. He had seen us doing it. He had listened to our conversations. And in that moment, he must have understood the purpose behind what we were doing — that it wasn't just about picking up rubbish, but about protecting something shared. He made the decision to join — not because we asked, but because he recognised the need. That reminded me that change doesn't always start with bold campaigns or big speeches. Sometimes, it happens when someone sees a meaningful act and quietly decides this is worth doing.
That's why we must keep talking about the environment — at work, at home, with friends, with strangers. Talk about it until it reaches the soul of someone else. That is how movements grow — not only through action, but through reflection, storytelling, and example. That is how we build a greener, kinder Malaysia together.
* Dr Azizi Abu Bakar is a research officer at Universiti Malaya Sustainable Development Centre (UMSDC).
** This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail.