Of all things, peak power is now being declared the main problem. That sounds clear. It sounds measurable. But it misses the point. Because whether an e-mountain bike still feels like a bicycle isn’t determined first on the test bench, but on the trail: where it must be controlled, maneuvered, or moved out of the way. This is exactly where weight, rideability, and control matter more than a peak value in the lab. And this is exactly where the real problem often remains surprisingly overlooked: the all-too-easy manipulation of the 25 km/h limit, which is what ensures the bike’s character in the first place.  The Wrong Focus A rigid watt limit sounds like order. That’s exactly why it’s so tempting. It provides a number that’s easy to communicate. It calms debates. It suggests control. But it says surprisingly little about how a bike actually behaves off-road. That’s exactly my objection. The current debate treats a lab value as if it were the actual problem. It isn’t. Peak power describes a brief spike under specific conditions. It says little about what really matters on the trail: weight, rideability, controllability, traction, and control. On the trail, it’s about short bursts of power, not sustained output. Anyone who seriously wants to preserve the bike-like character of an e-mountain bike must therefore not stop at the peak value. What matters isn’t the number that briefly appears on the test bench. What matters is how the bike rides off-road, how controllable it remains, and how reliably its limits are protected in everyday use. A watt limit primarily solves a communication problem. It does not, however, create safety. A heavy e-mountain bike with a formally limited maximum power output is not automatically “more like a bicycle” than a lighter, more controllable bike with a higher legal peak power output. The debate thus seizes upon what is easily measurable and declares it the main problem. That is where the fallacy begins, in my view.  Weight Matters Off-Road Weight is no minor issue with e-mountain bikes. It determines how controllable the bike remains when space is tight. On narrow trails, in technical sections, and when encountering others, it quickly becomes clear what a heavy system demands: more strength, more space, more correction. Weight alters the riding experience, the consequences of mistakes, and encounters along the way. Anyone who has to stop on a narrow trail, dismount, and quickly move their bike to the side immediately realizes what matters. Then abstract wattage figures don’t count. Then mass, balance, and control are what count. It is precisely in such moments that it becomes clear whether an e-mountain bike is still close to a traditional bike or has already drifted away from it. A light, easily controllable bike rides more smoothly, maneuvers more precisely, and can be moved out of the way faster when needed. A heavy system reacts more sluggishly and drains your reserves faster. This isn’t a matter of personal preference. It’s a matter of rideability and coexistence. Because e-mountain biking doesn’t take place in a vacuum—it happens outdoors. On trails. On trails. In forests. In recreational areas. There, you encounter hikers, families, dogs, horseback riders, and trail runners. This is where social compatibility becomes practical. Those who can stop their bike smoothly, park it safely, and move it to the side of the trail without effort create space more quickly, act with greater control, and defuse encounters before they escalate.If regulation is to preserve the character of cycling, it must take this reality seriously. Not because lightness sounds romantic. But because a lighter e-mountain bike remains more controllable, more considerate, and thus closer to a traditional bicycle in many critical situations than a heavy system that is only neatly contained on paper.  The blind spot is called tuning If I distrust the current debate, it is primarily for one reason: Ironically, there are calls for strictness regarding peak values, while an astonishing amount of leniency has prevailed regarding tuning for years. Yet this is precisely where the real potential for conflict lies. If the 25 km/h speed limit is manipulated, the e-mountain bike is no longer legally what it claims to be. Then it is no longer about a debatable peak value under laboratory conditions, but about an encroachment on the very limit that ensures the bicycle’s character in the first place. That is the point where the debate goes off track. A watt limit on paper looks decisive. Weak protection against tampering in everyday use has no effect, but carries greater weight. Because it’s not a few extra legal watts that damage the social acceptance of e-mountain bikes in the forest. The problem arises where a clearly defined pedelec can be turned into something else with little effort. The real test lies not in the peak value, but in the protection against tampering. That is precisely where it becomes clear how seriously the industry takes its own safety rhetoric. Anyone who remains lenient on this point but simultaneously demands new wattage limits is, in my view, setting the wrong priority. Safety does not begin where a spec sheet offers reassurance. Safety begins where limits remain limits in everyday life.  Weight Instead of Watts If we truly want to preserve the bicycle-like character of e-mountain bikes, regulation must start where physics comes into play. Not where numbers just look good. That’s why I consider rigid wattage limits to be the wrong lever. It would make more sense to establish a clear framework based on weight—specifically, motor weight, battery weight, and system weight. Not as an enemy of innovation, but as an honest guideline. Weight can be measured. Weight can be controlled. Weight cannot be manipulated with a few software tricks. Above all, motor weight sets physical limits on the peak power that can realistically be achieved. That is exactly the point: not about completely unrestricted power, but about a physically bounded range that leaves room for innovation while remaining controllable in practice. Manufacturers would still have enough leeway to outdo each other in efficiency, responsiveness, and performance. Competition would remain open. Only physics would tighten the framework. And we need to keep things in perspective: peak values of roughly 1,000 watts sound more dramatic than they are on the trail. There, it’s about very short power spikes, not sustained riding. It is precisely these short spikes that a motor needs to feel natural and not sluggish. No one rides at 1,000 watts outdoors for extended periods anyway. That is exactly why the debate so often misses the mark when it comes to real-world use.In my view, a pure wattage limit would be the wrong approach. Then, theoretically, 3- to 3.5-kilogram motors with moped-like power would be conceivable—motors that remain legal on paper as long as they are electronically limited to 750 watts in some way. In practice, however, it becomes clear how easily such limits can be circumvented through tuning. I therefore advocate for regulations that take physical limits seriously, rather than merely capping peak values. Not because e-mountain bikes fundamentally need more power, but because a rigid 750-watt approach is too simplistic. Those who build light must improve their design. Those who develop efficiently win. Those who rely solely on digital restrictions often end up managing only appearances. Such an approach would bring the debate back to where it belongs: to rideability, controllability, and competition that doesn’t stifle innovation. It wouldn’t resolve every point of contention. But it would better protect the bicycle’s character than a watt limit that seems strict yet practically misses the mark.  In the end, credibility is what countsThose who take safety seriously must focus on controllability and robust limits, not just a peak value. Weight, rideability, and protection against tampering are less convenient than a neat number on the test bench. But that is precisely where it is decided whether an e-mountain bike stays close to a bicycle or drifts further away from it. If we want to have this debate honestly, we must stop confusing the spec sheet with reality. Not every rule that looks strict makes encounters on the trail safer. Sometimes it mainly protects appearances.