Fred Mills doesn't just show us a new island; he forces us to confront the ghost of a $100 billion failure hanging over Malaysia's coastline. While the visual spectacle of land rising from the sea is undeniable, the real story isn't the engineering—it's the stark contrast between a project that nearly bankrupted a developer and one that is cautiously trying to get it right. This is essential listening for anyone trying to understand how massive infrastructure projects succeed or fail when the global economy turns sour.
The Shadow of Forest City
Mills opens by acknowledging the elephant in the room: the haunting presence of Forest City, a project that has become synonymous with overreach. He notes, "Only about 9,000 people live here, and most of the units that you see behind me are actually still empty." This statistic is the anchor for his entire argument; without it, the new project, Anderman, would just be another engineering marvel. Instead, it is framed as a potential sequel to a disaster.
The author effectively uses the term "Ghost City" to describe the current state of Forest City, noting it was supposed to house 700,000 people but is a fraction of that size. This framing is powerful because it shifts the focus from the physical structures to the human element—or lack thereof. Mills argues that the failure wasn't just bad planning, but a collision of external forces: a Chinese property crisis, strict capital controls, and a pandemic. "Throw a global pandemic into the mix, and you start to see why property sales in Forest City plummeted," he observes. This contextualization is crucial; it suggests that even the best-laid plans can be derailed by macroeconomic tides that no single developer can control.
Critics might argue that Mills is too quick to absolve the developers of Forest City of all blame, focusing heavily on external factors like government visa restrictions rather than the inherent flaws in selling luxury units to a speculative market. However, the evidence of the 1% occupancy rate he cites is hard to ignore.
Forest City feels like it really overreached. It was planned as a massive metropolis, relying on thousands of foreigners moving to or buying second homes there.
The Engineering of Survival
Moving from the financial to the physical, Mills dives into the mechanics of how Anderman is being built. He describes the process with a clarity that makes complex geotechnical engineering accessible to the layperson. He explains that sand is collected using a "trailer suction hopper dredger," which acts like a "big ship... with an underwater suction pipe that sucks up sand like a vacuum cleaner." This analogy is a masterclass in simplification, turning a dry industrial process into something visceral.
The commentary then shifts to the stabilization of this new land. Mills details the use of "pre-fabricated vertical drain" rigs and the placement of a "surcharge"—a thick layer of earth—to compress the soil. He highlights the importance of the "rock bund," a perimeter wall made of rocks weighing up to 115 kg each, which serves as a defense against waves and tsunamis. "The sloped face of a revetment wall allows it to break down the waves and dissipate their energy," he writes, pointing to the 2004 tsunami as a real-world stress test that the partially completed wall survived. This historical reference adds a layer of credibility; it proves the engineering isn't theoretical but battle-tested.
The argument here is that the physical foundation of Anderman is sound, but the author wisely notes that "building on top of unstable foundations is not a good idea," implying that the monitoring of settlement is just as critical as the construction itself. The precision of the engineering is impressive, but as Mills suggests, it is merely the prerequisite for success, not the guarantee of it.
A Smaller, Safer Bet?
The core of Mills' analysis lies in the comparison of scale and funding. He contrasts the 3,000-hectare, $100 billion ambition of Forest City with the 760-acre, $14 billion scope of Anderman. "As I mentioned at the start of the video, the aim was for Forest City to house 700,000 people, whereas Anderman is going to host a much more modest just 16,000," he states. This reduction in scale is presented as the primary lesson learned: do not bet the farm on a dream that requires a global population shift to succeed.
Furthermore, the shift in ownership is pivotal. Forest City was driven by a Chinese mega-developer caught in a debt crisis, while Anderman is led by a Malaysian company, Iano Burad. "The prospect of a foreign property crash impacting this project... feels pretty unlikely," Mills argues. This domestic focus aligns the project with local demand rather than speculative foreign investment. He points out that four condo towers are already sold out, a stark contrast to the stagnation at Forest City.
However, a counterargument worth considering is whether 16,000 residents are enough to sustain the massive infrastructure costs of a new island, regardless of who owns it. The economics of a standalone island community are notoriously difficult, even at a smaller scale. Mills acknowledges this uncertainty, admitting that the project is "a much more realistic undertaking" but stopping short of declaring it a guaranteed success.
Really, that's a question that only time can answer.
Bottom Line
Fred Mills succeeds in transforming a construction update into a cautionary tale about ambition versus reality. His strongest asset is the direct comparison between the two projects, using the failure of Forest City as a lens to evaluate the viability of Anderman. The piece's biggest vulnerability is its reliance on early sales data, which may not predict long-term occupancy or economic sustainability. Readers should watch whether the local Malaysian market can truly absorb the luxury supply without the crutch of foreign capital that doomed the previous attempt.