WHEN I read the headline – “DBKK offers RM2 bounty on rats to curb infestation” (The Star, June 27, 2025) – I didn’t cheer or grab a rat trap. I paused and muttered under my breath: The Cobra Effect is back. This time, wearing fur and whiskers.

Part of a nationwide rat eradication campaign involving 10 local councils and the Housing Ministry, it all sounds clever: public health goals, community participation and a budget-friendly fix for a pest and health problem.

But having spent years navigating the complexities of plantation stewardship, sustainability policies and real-world implementation, I’ve learned this much: even the most well-intentioned idea can backfire – sometimes with lasting consequences

Let’s revisit history.

In colonial Hanoi, the French paid for every rat tail. It worked – briefly. Then locals began cutting tails and releasing the rats. Some even ran rat farms. Problem solved? Hardly. The problem bred faster than the solution.

In British-ruled Delhi, it was cobras. A bounty on dead snakes led to cobra breeding. When the scheme ended, breeders released their stock. Result? Even more cobras. And thus, the Cobra Effect entered the policy hall of fame.

Now, back to present-day Kota Kinabalu. RM2 per rat, no questions asked, until July 31 – maybe longer. Sounds like a win. But zoom in.

Rats are nature’s overachievers. One female can have five to six litters a year, with five to 10 pups per litter. They mature within weeks. A pair can start a rodent dynasty faster than you can renew your car licence.

Now add human ingenuity. What happens when someone realises breeding rats bounties pays more than their day job?

Or when rats are imported from other towns and “laundered” through Kota Kinabalu for cash? What if rat farms sprout in kampungs, disguised as backyard chicken coops?

What starts as a public health drive can easily become a public relations nightmare – and worse, a health risk. You think you’re culling rats. In truth, you’re subsidising their population boom.

And let’s be honest: rats don’t need our help to multiply. But with the wrong incentives? We might just be giving them five-star breeding conditions.

A familiar pattern in the oil palm sector

This is what we call the Cobra Effect. A policy crafted to fix a problem ends up encouraging behaviour that worsens it. And this phenomenon doesn’t just play out in city streets – it plays out in the edible oil world, too.

For years, the loud global campaigns against palm oil are often driven more by emotion than evidence and based on precautionary principle – risk causing more environmental harm than they seek to prevent.

Oil palm is the most efficient oil crop by far on Earth in the world.

One hectare can yield up many to five times and more oil than soybean, sunflower or rapeseed. But when any well-meaning brands switch away from palm oil, they turn to these alternative crops, which demand more land, more inputs and more deforestation.

So, while consumers in the West may feel virtuous picking palm-free products, the ripple effect often leads to expanding soybean fields in South America, or canola fields on former forests. In trying to save the planet, we end up torching more of it. That’s Cobra Effect, again on a planetary scale.

Another cobra in biofuel

Used Cooking Oil (UCO) was once hailed as the “golden grease” of the green transition –a hero of the circular economy, turning yesterday’s cooking residue into today’s jet fuel.

Waste-based, low-carbon and conscience-friendly. What could possibly go wrong?

Cue the Cobra Effect – where good intentions, market incentives and a dash of naivety combine to create an unexpected monster.

Europe’s policymakers designed a system that rewards UCO-based biofuels with green credits and subsidies to promote genuine recycling. But somewhere between Brussels and the back alleys of Asia, opportunism may have slipped in.

Today, Europe is flooded with “UCO” that may technically qualify – but not quite in the spirit of the rules. Mislabelled? Adulterated? Sometimes. But more often, it’s subtler than fraud. Yes, double-counting?

But, here’s the uncomfortable truth: in many developing countries, waste oil doesn’t exist. Every drop is reused and repurposed. The idea of “waste” is a luxury of the developed world.

In poor households, nothing is thrown out when calories are precious. In Africa, UCO is practically mythical.

What changed? Price signals. When biofuel policies drove UCO prices above cooking oil, habits shifted. Oil was changed more frequently – not for hygiene, but for profit.

In some places, it became a running joke: ayam goreng was just the sideshow; the real product was the UCO. Why sell chicken when the oil is more valuable?

This isn’t fraud – it’s arbitrage. Just like breeding cobras or clipping rat tails, producers simply respond to the market.

Is it UCO? Yes. Was it used for food? Technically. Was it used strategically? Absolutely.

Claims that crude palm oil is passed off as UCO are likely exaggerated – it’s easily detectable.

What’s really happening is supply chains adjusting to profit signals. Policymakers are shocked that markets are doing what markets do.

The real Cobra Effect lies not in foul play, but in a flawed premise: assuming “waste” is universal, ignoring local realities and rewarding behaviour you didn’t anticipate.

Can you tell if a rat tail came from the wild or from a backyard cage? Can you tell if oil was truly discarded or just fried to qualify? No.

This policy never had real guardrails.

Now it’s drowning in certifications and digital fixes trying to rescue a broken design.

One proposed policy shift is ending the double-counting of advanced feedstocks.

But beware: removing UCO’s bonus status means plants now need twice the “waste”, risking a new Cobra Effect as the scramble for supply intensifies. Buckle up.

The outcome? A policy meant to cut emissions now rewards recycling theatre, distorts supply chains and damages trust in genuine sustainability efforts by producers.

The final trap

Whether it’s RM2 for a rat, boycotts on palm oil or subsidies for green diesel, the lesson is clear: without guardrails, well-meaning policies become invitations to game the system.

You might set out to solve one problem, but if you ignore the complexity of ecosystems –urban, agricultural or economic – you risk breeding bigger ones.

Rats don’t write policies.

People do.

And if we fail to think a few steps ahead, we will be left paying for the rats we helped breed, or the forests we helped fell – all while congratulating ourselves for being “sustainable”.

Designing incentives without safeguards is like handing fireworks to toddlers – dazzling at first, but often explosive.

Because whether it’s longkang rats, basket cobras or cooking oil fried just for show, the truth remains: Sustainability without scrutiny, meaningful dialogue with practitioners and those affected, and honest, objective monitoring won’t solve the problem – it simply breeds snakes in the system.

And in the real world, the road to infestation isn’t just paved with good intentions – it’s greased with unintended consequences.

Never underestimate the rat, the cobra or the opportunist.

Joseph Tek has over 30 years of experience in the plantation industry, with a background in research, leadership and advocacy. The views expressed here are the writer’s own.