Food for Thought
For more than a decade, Brunei studies have revisited school runs, working hours and productivity. The problem is known. Options have been examined. Evidence keeps growing. Yet families keep adjusting while decisions wait. Perhaps the harder question is no longer what can be done — but when studying finally becomes deciding.
KopiTalk LegCo Tracker · 22nd Session — Special Report (Decision-Making)
Brunei has spent more than a decade researching the same collision between working hours, school runs and public-sector productivity. The question is no longer whether the problem is understood, but how effectively that knowledge travels from research into decision.
By Malai Hassan Othman
Brunei does not appear to have a shortage of studies into the daily collision between working hours, school runs, traffic and public-sector productivity. It has studied the problem, reviewed solutions and gathered data.
Yet years later, familiar questions keep returning to the Legislative Council. That raises a larger issue than flexible hours or school buses: when does careful policymaking become prolonged indecision?
The problem itself is hardly new.
In 2014, Brunei examined it from two directions at once. The government's own Land Transport White Paper found that school-run traffic accounts for almost a fifth of all motorised traffic on the road — a significant contributor to peak-hour congestion. (Land Transport White Paper for Brunei Darussalam)
It proposed a Sustainable Modes of Travel to School Strategy, better public-transport access, an expanded National School Bus system and school-specific travel planning. (Land Transport White Paper for Brunei Darussalam)
The same year, the 11th Executive Development Programme for Senior Government Officials, run through the Sultan Haji Hassanal Bolkiah Institute of Defence and Strategic Studies, examined how to improve the effectiveness of school bus systems. (SHHBIDSS)
The problem, in other words, was already recognised. So were possible responses.
Four years later, the pattern repeated. The 14th Executive Development Programme separately examined inflexibility around working hours in the government sector, and the efficiency of the bus system for primary and secondary public schools. (SHHBIDSS)
Academic researchers reached similar territory the same year. Universiti Teknologi Brunei researchers described heavy congestion outside schools and Brunei's unusual midday traffic peaks, driven partly by parents collecting children. (Universiti Teknologi Brunei)
Their research noted one peak when people left work for lunch and school collection, followed by another as workers returned and children travelled to religious schools. The study cited data indicating up to 80 per cent of children travelled to school by private car, against roughly 10 per cent by school bus. (Universiti Teknologi Brunei)
Different institutions. Different methods. Much the same underlying problem.
The theme resurfaced again the following decade, when independent research began asking not just how to move children to school, but what the daily routine costs the parents managing it.
In 2025, the Centre for Strategic and Policy Studies put faces to that research. In its Volume 12 study of women in the Brunei workforce, one respondent, Violet, said her husband's workplace is only minutes from their children's school — but because his job is not flexible, she does the school runs herself, and it becomes considerably harder when he travels overseas for work. (Centre for Strategic and Policy Studies)
Violet also described her own employer as strict about the time she needs for those runs. Another respondent, Lily, said what would help most is supervised school buses, calling the daily routine of several children, different schools and different finishing times a "nightmare." (Centre for Strategic and Policy Studies)
That is what inflexibility looks like inside two households. The policy question is what happens when the same pattern repeats across thousands of families.
By March 2026, the question had reached the Legislative Council directly. In Council, the Minister at the Prime Minister's Office and Second Minister of Defence told Members the Public Service Department was collecting attendance and office-departure data from civil servants over three months, from January to March — specifically to examine the integrated school system's impact on public-service productivity. (Council of Brunei)
That is sensible administrative work. Policy affecting thousands of workers should not be changed casually, and operations, accessibility and productivity all deserve protection during any transition.
But there is another legitimate question: how much evidence is enough? While Government studies the consequences of changing the system, comparatively little public attention appears focused on the economic consequences of not changing it.
At midday, a working parent leaves the office — not necessarily for lunch. School has finished, and someone has to collect the children.
The parent drives to school, joins other vehicles doing much the same thing, collects the children and returns to work. Tomorrow, the journey repeats.
Multiply that routine across Government departments, private businesses, schools and thousands of households, and an individual family arrangement becomes part of Brunei's transport system — and potentially part of its productivity problem.
Government is right to ask whether flexible working could affect productivity. But the same test should be applied to the status quo.
How many paid working hours are consumed by school runs? How much fuel is burned, and how much congestion does the pattern impose on other road users?
What does repeated departure and re-entry during working hours do to workflow, meetings, supervision and public-service delivery — and what does it cost employers?
These are not arguments for immediately imposing flexible hours or putting every schoolchild onto a bus. They are questions about opportunity cost. Every policy change has a price. So does leaving things unchanged.
Yet no credible public estimate appears readily available showing what school-run disruption costs Brunei annually in lost productive time. Without sufficient data, putting a BND figure on that loss would be speculation.
But the absence of a number raises its own question: if productivity is central to deciding whether working arrangements should change, has Government calculated the productivity cost of keeping them as they are?
There may be another reason progress is difficult: the issue does not fit neatly inside one ministry. Working hours concern the public service; schools fall under education; congestion involves transport authorities.
School buses involve operators, regulation, safety, financing and parents. Work-life balance crosses employment and social policy. Productivity touches practically everybody.
Each agency may therefore be addressing a legitimate piece of the problem without any single institution owning the entire outcome. That is where coordination becomes as important as research.
Government deserves some fairness here. Changing working arrangements across the civil service is more complicated than shifting a clock, and different agencies have genuinely different operational requirements.
Hospitals cannot organise work like administrative offices. Public-facing counters cannot simply become unavailable because employees choose different schedules. School buses raise their own legitimate questions about safety, routes and cost.
These require careful answers. But caution and inertia are not the same thing. The distinction lies in whether study leads towards a defined decision — or merely towards another study.
That is why this issue now matters beyond the school gate. The school run is not Brunei's biggest national problem — which may be precisely why it makes such a useful test.
Brunei faces much harder decisions before 2035: economic diversification, human-capital development, digital transformation, food security, public-service reform and declining hydrocarbon dependence. Those ambitions require decisions, not just good policy design — and they require execution.
LegCo discussions have increasingly highlighted the gap between policy and public experience, including calls for stronger accountability and more responsive public-service delivery. (Council of Brunei)
The issue, therefore, is not whether Brunei conducts enough research. Research is essential, and consultation is not the enemy of progress. The danger comes when process becomes comfortable enough to substitute for decision.
There is no responsible argument for Government simply to rush. But neither should prudence become an indefinite holding position.
Twelve years now separate that first 2014 school-bus study from the productivity data JPA disclosed to LegCo in 2026 — different institutions, different years, different research exercises, yet remarkably similar questions keep resurfacing.
These were Executive Development Programme research projects and independent academic and think-tank studies, not necessarily formal Cabinet-commissioned policy reviews — a distinction worth keeping honest. What they legitimately establish is something subtler: this problem has circulated inside Brunei's senior-government research and policy environment for well over a decade.
During those years, parents kept driving. Workers kept leaving offices. Traffic kept gathering around schools. More research followed.
The latest LegCo discussions leave Brunei with a question larger than whether civil servants should receive flexible working hours: how effectively does accumulated knowledge travel from research, review and parliamentary discussion into an actual decision?
Perhaps another study will produce better evidence. Perhaps a pilot will reduce the risks. Further consultation may uncover a better solution. All of that may be worthwhile.
But somewhere between studying a problem and solving it lies a decision. Brunei's challenge may increasingly be not knowing what is possible, but developing the institutional resolve to decide what should be done — and then doing it.
That is the delivery test the school run places quietly before Government. And with 2035 less than a decade away, the costliest decision may eventually be the one that takes too long to make.





