Bali has a problem with foreign tourists. Or at least, its governor says so.
On Monday, April 6, 2026, Governor Wayan Koster formally submitted a draft regional regulation (Raperda) to the Bali provincial parliament, aimed at what he described as “unhealthy tourism practices” driven by misbehaving foreign visitors.
The list was familiar—and extensive: desecration of sacred sites, alleged drug laboratories, online prostitution, criminal activity, traffic violations, and illegal business operations.
“These practices are not good. We must address them,” Koster said during the plenary session.
The message was clear: Bali’s problem is not just volume of tourists, but the quality of behavior they bring with them.
The Governor’s Argument
Koster framed the proposed regulation as reinforcement, not reinvention.
He cited existing legal frameworks—Regional Regulation No. 5 of 2020 on Balinese Cultural Tourism and Governor Regulation No. 28 of 2020—as the foundation. The new draft, he argued, would strengthen these rules to ensure tourism remains “quality-based, culture-driven, and dignified.”
Three pillars. Quality. Culture. Dignity.
For Koster, these are non-negotiable. He warned that Bali’s cultural values cannot be compromised in the pursuit of economic growth.
At the same time, he dismissed concerns about negative narratives surrounding Bali’s tourism image, pointing instead to rising visitor numbers as evidence of continued global confidence.
“Because we have no other source of livelihood,” he said. “Bali must remain a tourism region with its culture.”
It is both an economic reality—and a structural vulnerability.
What the Regulation Would Actually Do
The full draft of the regulation has not yet been made public. But based on the governor’s presentation, it is expected to focus on three areas:
- Business governance in the tourism sector
- Behavioral standards for foreign visitors
- Cultural protection as a legal framework
On paper, these objectives appear straightforward.
In practice, they raise a more complicated question.
Most of the behaviors cited—drug offenses, prostitution, criminal acts, traffic violations—are already illegal under Indonesian law. Desecration of religious sites is also regulated.
So what, precisely, will this new regulation change?
Without clarity on enforcement mechanisms, legal scope, and operational detail, the proposal risks adding another layer of regulation without resolving the core issue: implementation.
The Deeper Question
This is not Koster’s first attempt to regulate tourist behavior.
In recent years, Bali has seen a series of proposals:
- restricting motorbike rentals for tourists
- tightening visa enforcement
- targeting illegal work by digital nomads
Each followed a similar trajectory: a strong announcement, public attention, and uneven follow-through.
The pattern is difficult to ignore.
It suggests that Bali’s challenge may not be the absence of rules—but the consistency of enforcement.
And that raises a more uncomfortable question:
Is the problem really about regulation—or about governance?
A Pattern of Communication
Earlier this week, South Korea issued a formal travel warning citing increased crime risks in Bali’s main tourist areas: Jimbaran, Seminyak, and Canggu.
When asked about it, Koster responded with a single word: “Cukup.”
He declined further comment and walked away.
Yet when addressing “misbehaving tourists,” the governor is detailed, assertive, and highly visible.
The contrast is difficult to ignore—and politically revealing.
It suggests a preference for legislative control over public accountability, and for defining the problem in terms of external actors rather than internal systems.
What This Means for Travelers and Expats
For international visitors and long-term residents, the proposed regulation introduces uncertainty.
Not necessarily about safety—but about clarity.
What defines “dignified” behavior?
How will it be enforced?
Will rules be applied consistently—or selectively?
Without clear guidelines, the risk is not stricter regulation, but ambiguous regulation.
And ambiguity, in a global tourism market, can be as damaging as risk itself.
The Economic Reality
Koster’s most candid statement may also be his most important:
Bali has no alternative economic engine.
Tourism is not a sector. It is the system.
This creates a fundamental contradiction.
Bali depends on foreign visitors for survival. Yet it is increasingly attempting to control, filter, and reshape their behavior through regulation.
This tension is not unique to Bali. Cities from Barcelona to Bangkok face similar pressures.
But the difference lies in execution.
Because regulation without enforcement does not solve problems. It redistributes them.
The Path Forward
A law, by itself, does not change behavior.
Enforcement does.
Clarity does.
Consistency does.
If the proposed regulation introduces clear standards, transparent enforcement, and measurable outcomes, it could strengthen Bali’s tourism model.
But if it merely restates existing rules—without addressing the gaps that allow violations to persist—it risks becoming something else:
A signal of control, rather than a tool of change.
