When Prices Rise, Society Trembles
- 7 hours ago
- 6 min read
Why Lifting Fuel Taxes Is Now a Moral Imperative
by Jo Chanco
EDITOR THINKS
By all measures that matter to ordinary Filipinos—not the abstractions of economists, nor the tidy charts of technocrats—life has become more expensive, more uncertain, and more unforgiving.
Inflation is no longer a headline. It is a daily wound.
It is felt in the market, where a kilo of rice now requires a longer pause, a deeper sigh, and sometimes, a quiet retreat. It is there in the jeepney, where fare hikes are debated not as policy, but as survival. It is there at the dinner table, where portions shrink, substitutions become necessary, and silence often replaces conversation.
We have entered a season where the cost of living is not merely rising—it is reshaping behavior, distorting choices, and quietly eroding the dignity of millions.
And at the center of this storm is a combustible truth: fuel prices are the bloodstream of inflation, and we continue to tax it as if the nation were not already in distress.

The Anatomy of a Crisis
Inflation in the Philippines today is not a mystery. It is not an unpredictable accident of global forces. Yes, there are external pressures—oil price volatility, geopolitical tensions, supply chain disruptions—but the transmission of these shocks into everyday suffering is amplified by domestic policy.
At every fuel pump, the Filipino pays not just for oil, but for layers of taxation—Value-Added Tax (VAT) and excise taxes—that were designed for normal times, not for a period of economic strain.
Fuel, after all, is not a luxury. It is not a discretionary expense. It is the invisible ingredient in everything:
The diesel that powers trucks delivering vegetables from Benguet
The gasoline that keeps jeepneys, buses, and tricycles moving
The energy that sustains manufacturing, refrigeration, logistics
When fuel prices rise, everything rises.
And when government insists on taxing that rise, it becomes not just a passive observer—but an active participant in the inflationary spiral.

Taxing Pain
There is something fundamentally unjust about taxing necessity during a crisis.
VAT, by design, is regressive. It does not distinguish between rich and poor. It demands the same percentage from the executive and the laborer, from the corporate fleet and the lone tricycle driver.
Excise taxes on petroleum products, meanwhile, were introduced under the promise of fiscal reform—meant to fund infrastructure, to build a stronger future. But what future can be built when the present is collapsing under its own weight?
In theory, these taxes are rational. In practice, they are punishing.
To insist on maintaining them at full strength in the face of rising global oil prices is to multiply hardship at the most vulnerable point in the economic chain.
And so the question must be asked—not as an academic exercise, but as a moral reckoning:
Why do we continue to impose the very thing that is making life unbearable for millions?

The Case for Immediate Relief
The proposal is simple, direct, and urgent:
Lift the VAT and excise taxes on petroleum products—immediately, even if temporarily.
Not as a gesture. Not as a token subsidy. But as a decisive intervention.
The logic is clear:
Immediate Price Reduction
Removing these taxes will directly lower fuel prices, offering instant relief across sectors.
Ripple Effect on Goods and Services
Transport costs will decline, easing pressure on food prices, logistics, and basic commodities.
Psychological Stabilization
Inflation is not just economic—it is emotional. Lower fuel prices restore a sense of control, of hope.
Support for the Most Vulnerable
The poor, who spend a larger share of their income on transport and food, benefit the most.
Critics will argue about lost government revenue. They will point to budget deficits, to fiscal discipline, to long-term sustainability.
But this is a moment that demands clarity:
A government that protects its revenues at the expense of its people risks losing both.

When Hunger Sets In
There is a dangerous threshold in any society—a point where economic strain transforms into social instability.
History has shown this, repeatedly and without ambiguity.
When food prices rise sharply, when wages fail to keep pace, when survival becomes uncertain, behavior changes. Not out of malice, not out of ideology, but out of something far more primal.
Hunger rewrites morality.
The polite norms of society—the rules we agree to follow—are sustained by a basic assumption: that tomorrow will provide enough. When that assumption collapses, so too does restraint.
Petty theft increases. Desperation becomes visible. Tensions rise in communities already stretched thin.
This is not speculation. It is human nature.
We are, after all, animals before we are citizens.
And when the instinct to survive is triggered—when a parent cannot feed a child, when a worker’s wage no longer sustains a household—the line between right and wrong becomes blurred by necessity.
To ignore this is not just naive. It is dangerous.

The Illusion of Stability
There is a tendency among policymakers to view inflation through the lens of averages—percentages, indices, projections.
But averages conceal suffering.
A 5% inflation rate may appear manageable on paper, but it does not capture the lived reality of a vendor who sees her daily earnings swallowed by rising costs, or a driver who must choose between fuel and food.
Stability, in this sense, becomes an illusion.
Beneath the surface, pressures build.
And if left unaddressed, they do not dissipate—they erupt.

A Question of Priorities
Governance, at its core, is about choices.
It is about deciding, in moments of difficulty, what matters most.
Is it the preservation of tax structures designed for a different time?
Or is it the immediate relief of a population under strain?
Is it the defense of fiscal orthodoxy?
Or is it the recognition that extraordinary circumstances require extraordinary measures?
To lift VAT and excise taxes on fuel is not an admission of failure. It is an acknowledgment of reality.
It is a signal that government is responsive, that it understands the urgency of the moment, that it is willing to act—not tomorrow, not after further study, but now.
Beyond Economics
This is not merely an economic issue. It is a social one, a moral one, even a political one.
Because at stake is not just the price of fuel, but the trust between government and governed.
Every day that passes without meaningful intervention deepens a quiet frustration—a sense that those in power are insulated from the pressures faced by ordinary citizens.
And frustration, when left to ferment, becomes something more volatile.

The Cost of Inaction
There is a price to doing nothing.
It is measured not just in pesos, but in consequences:
Increased poverty
Worsening inequality
Rising criminality
Eroding social cohesion
These are not distant possibilities. They are near-term realities if the current trajectory continues.
The warning signs are already visible.
And yet, the response remains cautious, incremental, restrained.
One is reminded of a paradox: in times of crisis, caution can be the most dangerous choice of all.
A Call for Decisive Leadership
What is needed now is not analysis, but action.
Not rhetoric, but resolve.
To lift fuel taxes is to take a clear stand: that the burden of adjustment will not fall disproportionately on those least able to bear it.
It is to recognize that economic policy must ultimately serve human ends—not the other way around.
And it is to understand that stability is not achieved by holding the line, but by knowing when to redraw it.

The Human Face of Inflation
Behind every statistic is a story.
A mother stretching a budget that no longer stretches. A worker taking on extra hours that no longer suffice. A student commuting longer distances with less money in hand.
These are not isolated experiences. They are shared realities.
And they demand a response that is equally shared, equally felt.

The Urgency of Now
Inflation is not waiting.
The cost of living is not pausing.
And neither should we.
The lifting of VAT and excise taxes on petroleum products is not a cure-all. It will not solve every problem. But it is a necessary step—a tangible, immediate, and meaningful intervention.
To delay is to deepen the wound.
To act is to begin the healing.
Because in the end, the measure of governance is not found in balance sheets or policy papers, but in a simple question:
When the people were hurting, did we help—or did we hesitate?















