Malta’s New Demerit-Point System: How Fair Laws Are Making Roads Safer and Drivers Happier

Safe driving through fair laws
By Hot Malta staff

It’s 7:45 a.m. on the Birkirkara bypass and the queue is already snaking past the wheat-coloured façades of Santa Venera. A white Toyota Vitz noses into the bus lane, indicator blinking like a guilty conscience. Half-a-dozen drivers honk; one flashes a “V” sign that has nothing to do with victory. In the space of 200 metres the scene sums up Malta’s daily drama: too many cars, too little space, and a simmering suspicion that the rules favour someone else.

Enter Transport Malta’s new demerit-point system, quietly rolled out last October and already being called the “fair-lane revolution”. Instead of the old flat-rate fines that hit low-income motorists hardest, every licence now starts with 12 points. Speed cameras, mobile phones, even failure to yield at the Msida roundabout cost points calibrated to the risk, not the size of your wage. Lose the lot and you walk—or take the bus—for three months. Early figures show a 19 % drop in excessive speeding on the Coast Road, but the real story is cultural: Maltese drivers are talking about fairness, not just fines.

“Qiegħed nieħu piz,” admits Clayton Grech, 42, a plasterer from Żebbuġ who lost eight points in week one. “But for the first time I feel it’s the same piz for the guy in the Porsche behind me.” Clayton’s remark, shared 1,300 times on Facebook, captures the shift. Previous governments relied on spot fines that wealthier motorists shrugged off as “pocket-money tickets”. The new system is income-blind; a 19-year-old courier on €800 a month and a Sliema CEO on €80 k both need 12 points to keep driving. Equality on asphalt, if not in asphalted bank accounts.

Fairness also means listening. When Gozitan GRTU members complained that delivery vans were penalised for stopping in village squares, Transport Malta created time-window permits: 15-minute slots before 11 a.m. when pedestrian traffic is light. “We’re not anarchists,” says Nadine Camilleri, who runs her mother’s grocery in Xewkija. “We just want rules that make sense for an island where the church square doubles as a loading bay.” Since the tweak, illegal van stops in Gozo’s seven main squares are down 38 %, according to Local Council data.

Critics argue the system still overloads the poor: lose your licence and you lose your job. Reply: free “rehab” courses run by the University of Malta’s Road Safety Research Unit. Attend six evenings, earn back four points, and leave with a certificate recognised by insurers for a 10 % premium discount. Dr. Rebecca Ebejer, the unit’s lead psychologist, says the classes are packed. “Maltese culture is relational. People don’t mind punishment if they feel respected while receiving it.” She opens a drawer of thank-you letters—one decorated with the traditional Maltese lace pattern, thanking her for “giving me my dignity back together with my points”.

Culturally, the reform taps into Malta’s deeply communal sense of “ħila”—the idea that cleverness must be tempered by conscience. Grandparents who once compared rabbit-hunting permits now compare grandchildren’s remaining points. “X’għandu Ġanni? Tlieta? Uffi, tell him to slow down,” is a refrain heard over Sunday lunch in many households. The system has even birthed a cottage industry: point-checking kiosks outside village band clubs, where youths offer to log in with your e-ID for €2, the modern equivalent of checking pigeon-post.

Environmentalists see collateral gains. With speeding less attractive, bicycle sales rose 22 % year-on-year; e-bike importer Zeed Bikes can’t keep up with orders. “Fair laws nudge people out of cars,” says CEO Steve Zammit Lupi. “When the road feels safer, the saddle feels closer.” Cafés along the Valletta waterfront report more outdoor seating occupied by Lycra-clad thirty-somethings who once wouldn’t cycle farther than the pastizzi counter.

Not everyone is celebrating. Lawyers specialising in traffic offences report a 30 % drop in custom; one cheeky practitioner has rebranded, offering “point-protection insurance” that reimburses taxi fares if you max out. Transport Minister Aaron Farrugia chuckles when asked about it: “Innovation follows legislation,” he says, “but the best lawyer is the one you never need.”

Will the fairness fever last? History warns against Maltese amnesia—remember the 2010 seat-belt blitz that faded faster than a cheap carnival paintjob. But this time enforcement is algorithmic; cameras don’t take siestas. And the social shaming is stickier. In a country where everyone knows someone who knows your nanna, losing your licence is a village event.

As the morning rush subsides and the Santa Venera traffic lights cycle to amber, the white Vitz that jumped the lane earlier is nowhere to be seen—perhaps its driver has already clocked three points and thought better of a fourth. Behind, a young woman on a turquoise e-bike glides past the queue, helmet gleaming. She offers a smile that says the road is wide enough, if the rules are right. Fair laws, it turns out, don’t just save lives; they give Malta back the courtesy that horsepower once replaced. And that may be the best traffic reduction measure of all.