By Michel Shane
Dear Malibu 2030,
I’m writing to you from December 2024, in the wake of the Franklin Fire that tested our community’s resilience once again. As we recover from this devastation, I wonder: Did we finally find the courage to address the deadly reality of PCH, or did we continue to debate while lives hung in the balance?
I hope you’re reading this in a Malibu where agency silos are a relic of the past, where Caltrans, MRCA, and the Coastal Commission learned to work as one. Back in 2024, their individual agendas, however well-intentioned, created a gridlock that cost lives. We didn’t need more studies then — we needed action. Did we finally make that happen?
We had started to see progress — new signage, speed limit adjustments, promises of speed cameras for 2025. But these were Band-Aid solutions on a wound that required surgery. Our city management team was trying, caught in a web of competing interests and bureaucratic roadblocks. Did they find the dynamic leadership needed to break free from that paralysis?
The neuroscience of trauma was already telling us harsh truths in 2024. We knew that every collision rewired survivors’ brains, leaving invisible scars that time alone couldn’t heal. Post-traumatic stress wasn’t just a diagnosis — it was a biological reality etched into neural pathways, affecting not just individuals but entire families. Each loss on PCH created ripples of trauma through our community, altering the very architecture of our collective brain chemistry. The science was clear: prevention wasn’t just preferable, it was a biological imperative.
The devastation of each loss went beyond statistics. Every empty chair at a dinner table, every graduation without a parent present, every birthday celebration turned memorial — these weren’t just tragic events, they were permanent alterations to our community’s fabric. Each loss transformed dozens of lives, creating a web of grief that stretched across generations. Did we finally recognize that each “accident” was really a preventable tragedy with endless ripple effects?
I think about the teenagers of 2024 — your community leaders of today. They were growing up in an era of unprecedented technological advancement, watching us struggle to implement basic safety measures on one of California’s most iconic roadways. Did we finally give them the tools to create the safety culture they deserved?
I think about Haylynn Conrad, who in 2024 said, “I’m going to make the change,” and won a seat at the table. Did her determination inspire others? Did more residents finally stop posting on social media and start showing up to meetings? Did empty seats at council meetings become filled with voices demanding action?
Even then, the science was clear: Each collision left permanent physical, emotional, and communal scars. We understood that, yet we accepted piecemeal solutions and glacial progress. Did we finally find the collective will to overcome institutional inertia?
We set a goal for 2025: ZERO DEATHS from traffic violence on PCH. It wasn’t idealistic — it was the only acceptable target. The technology existed, and the solutions were known. All that was missing was the will to make it happen. Did we find that will?
Perhaps our greatest hope for change came from our finally embracing the education of our youth about traffic safety. We realized that teenagers weren’t just future drivers — they were current agents of change. In 2024, we began seeing how their understanding of neural plasticity and brain development could reshape driving culture. They intuitively grasped what many adults struggled to accept: multitasking behind the wheel was a myth, peer influence could be harnessed for positive change, and split-second decisions had lifetime consequences.
When we introduced traffic safety into their curriculum, something remarkable happened. These young minds didn’t just absorb the information — they transformed it. They used social media not just to complain but to organize. They created peer-to-peer education programs that spoke their generation’s language. They understood that their developing brains made them more vulnerable on the road but also more adaptable to new safety cultures. Did their innovative road safety education approach become the model for future generations? Did they force the change we could not bring about?
I hope you’re reading this in Malibu, where PCH is no longer a daily gamble with lives. I hope the unity we dreamed of — between residents, city leadership, and state agencies — becomes a reality. I hope the safety legacy we wanted to build becomes your inheritance, not your burden.
If we succeeded, it’s because we finally dared to demand and implement real change. If we failed, I hope you’ll forgive us — but more importantly, I hope you’ll finish what we started.
Lives depended on our actions then. Lives depend on yours now.
With Hope from Malibu 2024
P.S. Also, PCH’s future was never just about infrastructure — it was about creating a new safety culture. I hope we gave you the foundation you needed to make PCH safer than we ever imagined possible.
All the best
Michel