May 1, 2026 l The Manila Times
One Saturday afternoon, motorists passing Quezon Memorial Circle saw a long line of drivers snaking around the park. The drivers were not waiting for passengers, but rather expecting government assistance.
There was a scheduled payout of fuel subsidies for public utility vehicle drivers and delivery riders affected by rising oil prices. Each beneficiary was entitled to about P5,000 — a modest but meaningful amount for workers whose income is directly tied to fuel costs.
The intention behind the assistance is sound. Oil price shocks quickly hit transport workers, and government support is justified.
But the manner in which the subsidy is delivered raises uncomfortable questions about efficiency, fairness, and dignity.
For one driver I personally know, the process meant six hours of waiting in line. Six hours not driving. Six hours not earning.
Transport groups have lamented that such scenes undermine the dignity of drivers, making them appear like supplicants rather than workers receiving legitimate assistance.
“Drivers are not beggars,” one transport leader said. Yet the optics of thousands of people waiting in parks and parking lots inevitably create that impression.
The situation has even taken a tragic turn. A recent news report recounted how a motorcycle rider collapsed and died of a heart attack while waiting in line for the subsidy. Whether the long wait was the culprit, the episode underscores the human cost of a poorly designed system.
Even more troubling are alleged reports of “facilitation fees.”
The driver I know said he was quietly told that his processing could move faster if he agreed to a P200 deduction. Others reportedly paid as much as P500, fearing they might have to return another day if their paperwork was delayed.
If these accounts are even half truths, the subsidy program has unintentionally created a system where assistance leaks before it reaches the intended beneficiaries.
Consider a rough estimate. In Quezon City alone, more than 10,000 drivers and riders were scheduled to receive the subsidy. If just 10 percent paid a facilitation fee averaging P350, the leakage from that single payout site would reach roughly P370,000.
Scale it nationwide — where more than 200,000 transport workers are eligible — and even a modest leakage rate could translate into millions of pesos quietly diverted from the very people the subsidy was meant to help.
Yet the deeper question is, why, in the digital age, are drivers still lining up for hours to receive government assistance?
Many Asian countries have moved beyond this model. India, Indonesia, and Thailand distribute subsidies through direct digital transfers linked to verified beneficiary databases. Funds are deposited straight into bank accounts or mobile wallets.
The Philippines has the infrastructure to do the same. The government maintains transport registries. The national identification system is in place. Digital payments through platforms such as GCash and Maya are now widespread.
What’s missing
The building blocks exist. What appears missing is the urgency to connect them.
At the same time, government has resisted another measure often proposed during oil price spikes: reducing or suspending excise taxes or value added tax (VAT) on fuel.
Officials argue that such tax cuts would disproportionately benefit wealthier households who consume more fuel. But this reasoning overlooks a large segment of society: the middle class.
For many middle-income families, fuel is not discretionary spending. It is the daily cost of commuting to work, transporting goods, or running small businesses. Rising fuel prices ripple through the economy, pushing up transport fares, delivery costs, and ultimately food prices.
Meanwhile, as oil prices climb, government tax revenues rise automatically.
VAT, by design, is calculated as a percentage of the selling price. When global oil prices increase, VAT collections increase, too. Government effectively receives a windfall from higher pump prices.
Ironically, gasoline stations — the most visible actors in the fuel supply chain — are often blamed by the public for the increases. Yet most operate on fixed or regulated margins per liter.
When oil prices rise, the peso margin per liter typically remains unchanged, roughly P1.50 to P3.00 per liter (varies by location and brand). In fact, as a share of the pump price, their margin actually shrinks.
Energy shocks are inevitable in a volatile world. But how government responds to them reveals much about policy priorities.
A better approach would begin with three straightforward reforms.
First, digitize subsidy distribution so assistance can be transferred directly to verified drivers without queues.
Second, increase transparency by showing the public how much additional tax revenue government collects when oil prices rise.
Third, consider targeted or temporary tax adjustments during severe price spikes, so that relief reaches not only the poorest but also the middle-class households squeezed by rising costs.
***The views expressed herein are his own and do not necessarily reflect the opinion of his office as well as FINEX. For comments, email benel_dba@yahoo.com. Photo is from Pinterest.