Port Leadership in the Real World of Sabah

A “Whole-of-Chain” Crisis at Sepanggar Port

Following mounting complaints over severe congestion, Sabah’s Deputy Chief Minister III, Datuk Ewon Benedick, visited Sepanggar Port on 13 January 2026. After briefings from port operators and government agencies, he concluded the crisis was a “whole-of-service-chain” failure—a systemic breakdown involving multiple agencies, outdated systems, and critical infrastructure gaps.

Inside the port, ships were waiting for up to days to berth as container yards overflowed. Outside, long lorry queues halve drivers’ daily delivery capacity, crippling supply chains. This operational gridlock is exacerbated by weak digitalization and overlapping regulatory processes that slow cargo clearance.

The situation is structurally aggravated by a port expansion project, begun in 2021, which is badly behind schedule. With rising cargo volumes and the relocation of RoRo operations to Sepanggar, pressure on the stalled infrastructure is immense. Datuk Ewon stressed that the solution demands immediate coordination and accelerated expansion, calling for a “Sabah First” team effort across the entire logistics chain.

For Sabah—defined by its vast coastline and evolving infrastructure—port leadership is not an abstract concept. It is forged not in boardrooms, but on rain-swept wharves and in the organized chaos of container yards. It is tested where ships idle, and costs mount, at the juncture where the global economy meets physical reality.

For decades, port performance has been measured by cold metrics: turnaround time, crane productivity, and cost. This has fostered a dangerous myth: that excellence means “flawless” operations.

This belief is a modern liability. Ports are not controlled laboratories but complex ecosystems operating amidst volatile weather, labor shortages, and cyber threats. When management demands flawlessness from an uncontrollable environment, they plant the seeds of failure. If a broken crane or a delayed tide is treated as a punishable error, the system breaks. Workers stay silent, small faults are hidden until they become crises, and innovation is stifled.

A port that appears “excellent” on paper but is built on fear is fragile. Sabah cannot afford fragility. Our logistics costs already exceed those of major national ports. A single disruption at Sepanggar ripples through our entire economy, from palm oil exports to the cost of living for every Sabahan. True resilience is not the absence of failure, but the capacity to adapt, learn, and respond collectively when challenges inevitably arise.

To address this, we must adopt the “Sabah First” Operating Model. This is more than a slogan; it is a governance framework that prioritizes holistic, system-based problem-solving to protect Sabah’s economic sovereignty.

A foundational element of this model is the structural consolidation of industrial development, entrepreneurship, and transportation under a unified ministerial umbrella. This integration is intentional, allowing leaders to link entrepreneurship directly to supply chain efficiency rather than treating them as isolated silos.

This approach aligns with the concept of Just Culture. In complex systems, failures are rarely the result of individual negligence; they are symptoms of systemic gaps. By focusing on fixing processes rather than assigning blame, we create an environment where issues are reported openly and solved before they escalate.

The “Sabah First Team” approach places the State’s interests above organizational ego. This is the hallmark of modern port leadership: shifting the question from “Who is at fault?” to “How do we fix the system?”

The real questions we must face are:

⦁ How do we make Sepanggar more attractive to international shipping lines?

⦁ How do we reduce fuel consumption and inventory costs for Sabah’s exporters?

⦁ How do we leverage a unified digital ecosystem—using AI and IoT—to break down barriers between agencies?

Ultimately, culture is our most important infrastructure. Ports do not fail first because of broken cranes or shallow channels; they fail when people stop telling the truth. While we can upgrade machinery and expand facilities, no amount of investment can compensate for a culture where people fear speaking. Without that foundational trust, even the most advanced system will drift into dysfunction.

Trust cannot be purchased—it must be cultivated. In the high-pressure world of a port, where ships wait, and reputations are at stake, workers are the first to notice problems: unsafe shortcuts, bottlenecks, and failing equipment. If their voices are met with punishment rather than gratitude, silence becomes the default. And when silence becomes the norm, management is left operating in the dark.

This is why advanced ports treat psychological safety as a strategic asset, not a soft HR issue. Psychological safety means people can say, “This won’t work,” “We made a mistake,” or “This is unsafe,” without fear of blame or retaliation. It allows real information to flow upward, not just filter good news.

A “Just Culture” is the operating system that makes this possible. It doesn’t mean no accountability. It means people are not punished for honest errors, system weaknesses are fixed rather than hidden, and reckless behavior is addressed fairly. In such a culture, workers speak up, managers receive accurate data, and the organization learns instead of repeating the same failures.

In ports, where every delay carries a cost and every mistake multiplies congestion, a culture of learning is more powerful than any new piece of machinery. Concrete and steel may expand capacity, but it is culture that determines whether that capacity is used wisely or wasted. Sabah does not need leaders who pursue the illusion of flawless performance. What we need are leaders who design systems that learn, correct, and adapt—systems that improve precisely because they are allowed to confront reality honestly.

In an era defined by uncertainty and disruption, trust has become more valuable than control. And in our ports—where Sabah meets the world—trust may well be the most important cargo we ever move.