Bangkok’s Cheap Fare: Is It For Commuters Or Cronies?
A populist transit policy faces corruption allegations, exposing a struggle for equitable development amid power dynamics.
The 20-baht flat fare: a lifeline for the Thai commuter, or another hand slipping into the public till? Bangkok Post reports Deputy Prime Minister Suriya Jungrungreangkit is defending his signature policy against accusations that it primarily benefits private investors rather than the public it purports to serve. But beneath the specific accusation lies a more fundamental question: can developing nations truly deliver widespread social programs without those benefits being siphoned off by entrenched interests? It’s a dilemma not unique to Thailand. It’s a question that haunts nearly every attempt to build a welfare state in places where the lines between public service and private enrichment are often blurred beyond recognition.
Suriya claims “This is for the people. The public has long been burdened by expensive transport costs. If successful, this policy will not only reduce expenses but also help cut air pollution.”
His assertion is that easing the financial burden on commuters is the sole aim. However, the People’s Party (PP) alleges the scheme will funnel subsidies to large businesses participating in the program. At its core, this is a battle over trust. Can the government effectively deliver affordable transit without enriching private entities along the way? Historically, the track record hasn’t been stellar. Look at Malaysia’s 1MDB scandal, or Brazil’s Lava Jato operation — sprawling corruption networks intertwined with infrastructure projects, leaving taxpayers footing the bill while elites prospered.
The temptation, always, is to view this in isolation: a fare policy here, a subsidy there. But these localized disputes obscure the larger systemic issues at play. Thailand, like many developing nations, faces immense pressure to modernize its infrastructure to support economic growth. Yet, rapid urbanization and infrastructure projects often exacerbate existing inequalities, favoring those with capital and political connections. And this isn’t simply about economics. It’s about power — the power to shape policy, award contracts, and ultimately, to define who benefits from progress. Policies like these, while seemingly populist, must be subjected to intense scrutiny to ascertain its true effects.
One could argue that the PP’s accusation is just political grandstanding. Maybe they see an opportunity to weaken the ruling party. Yet, questioning who benefits, and how, is essential. Are the chosen companies truly the best option, or are there less visible, more politically-connected players in the background? What are the mechanisms of accountability, to ensure private companies don’t exploit the subsidy system? These questions speak to a larger crisis of confidence in government transparency in many regions of the world. They also speak to the fundamental problem of regulatory capture, where the very agencies designed to oversee industries become beholden to them.
As urban economics professor, Edward Glaeser, notes in his work on urban development, “The success of cities often depends less on grand plans and more on ensuring efficient markets and transparent governance.” A sustainable funding model, drawing on the MRTA’s profits and Ministry of Finance collaborations, might offer the appearance of fiscal responsibility. But ultimately, the 8 billion baht question comes down to enforcement and oversight. It’s not just about the money; it’s about the political will to hold powerful actors accountable, even when it’s inconvenient or unpopular. Without those, the promise of affordable transit will be little more than an empty gesture.
The fate of Bangkok’s 20-baht fare may seem like a local affair. However, it reflects a larger narrative about the challenges of balancing public need with private interest in the developing world. It’s a test case for whether “for the people” initiatives can be shielded from the distorting effects of concentrated power, and whether affordability for the masses becomes profitability for the few. But more than that, it’s a referendum on the very possibility of equitable development in a world where power often trumps principle. The 20-baht fare is not just about transit; it’s about the soul of a nation, and its capacity to deliver on its promises. Only time, and continued critical examination, will tell.