The government’s decision to move the strict enforcement of the ban on e-bikes and e-trikes on national highways from Dec. 1 to Jan. 2 has bought riders a little more time—but not more safety.

The delay came after complaints and confusion over implementation, but the rationale behind the policy has never been ambiguous. As Palace Press Officer Claire Castro stressed, the rules are “not meant to make life harder” but to “ensure the safety of e-bike users” and of all motorists who share the road. And on this issue, the safety argument is overwhelming.

Across the country, e-bikes and e-trikes have become the mobility of choice for many families. They are affordable, easy to operate, and require no fuel. For parents who must bring their children to school, workers traveling short distances, or seniors who need a quick ride to the market, these small vehicles offer independence. But that convenience is precisely what has led them into places where they do not belong—most notably, national highways, where speed limits, road designs, and traffic volumes are fundamentally incompatible with the limitations of these electric units.

For example, the danger is more glaring along the Marilaque Highway, a route famous for its scenic ridges and infamous for its sharp curves, sudden descents, and heavy weekend traffic that connects Quezon City all the way to Infanta, Quezon. Here, e-bikes and e-trikes—some modified to look like mini jeepneys—crawl through the road’s zigzags. They hug the rightmost lane, often struggling at 15 to 25 kph where cars and motorcycles naturally move far faster. The result is a volatile mix: drivers forced to brake abruptly, impatient motorists overtaking on blind curves, and electric vehicles stalling on uphill stretches.

These are not harmless inconveniences. They are life-and-death risks.

Emergency responders have recounted the tragic pattern: e-trikes tipping over on tight bends; sudden stops that caused a fatal rear-end crash; a mini-EV clipped by overtaking buses or SUVs. And because many of these incidents occur in provincial areas, they often go unreported. These vehicles are not designed to survive the violence of highway collisions.

This is exactly why Malacañang’s message is uncompromising. These are motorized vehicles, Castro reminded the public, and “we have laws that need to be followed.” Discipline is “not meant to clash with the issue of poverty.” The point is clear: Safety regulations protect everyone, not just those who can afford sturdier transportation.

Still, enforcement alone is not enough. The rise of e-bikes and e-trikes reflects deeper issues—insufficient public transport coverage, especially in urban and rural areas; and the lack of local road networks safe for slow-moving vehicles. For many families, e-bikes are not a choice—they are the only affordable option.

This is why the government must pair the ban with a broader mobility strategy. Local governments should designate safe secondary roads for electric vehicles. National agencies must clarify registration and licensing requirements so riders can transition into compliance. Transportation assistance programs should help the most vulnerable acquire safer alternatives. And long-term planning must integrate e-mobility into urban and barangay-level transport, where it truly belongs.

But while those solutions mature, the ban on e-bikes and e-trikes on national highways must stand firm. Compassion does not mean allowing people to put themselves in danger. The highway is indifferent to convenience, economic need, or good intentions. It punishes error swiftly and often unforgivingly.

Jan. 2 is more than a new enforcement date. It is a reminder that public safety, once compromised, can exact costs no policy delay can ever repay.