THE GOVERNMENT SAID IT WOULD COME DOWN HARD. SO WHY ARE WE STILL COUNTING BODIES?

Seventy-one gas stations. Caught red-handed. Raising prices before the legal window, refusing to sell, sitting on inventory while ordinary Filipinos lined up at the pump.

The DOE's own undersecretary personally walked into Global Oil Hauz in Pasig City and handed them a show-cause order. On camera. For everyone to see.

That was March 9.

It is now April. Ask yourself: what actually happened to those 71 stations?

WHAT THE GOVERNMENT CALLED A CRACKDOWN

Let's be precise about what the DOE did — because precision matters when the government uses words like "crackdown."

They inspected 87 stations. They found 71 in violation. They issued show-cause orders to 54 to 55 of them, giving station owners 24 hours to explain themselves.

That's it. That was the crackdown.

A show-cause order is a piece of paper. It is a request for an explanation. It is not a fine. It is not a closure. It is the government asking a business accused of breaking the rules to please explain why it should not be punished.

In Cagayan de Oro, six stations were caught raising prices days before the DOE's announced increase. Five were Petron. One was Shell. In Cebu, 54 stations were ordered to explain their prices. In Metro Manila and other regions, the same pattern showed up.

The Department of Energy promised "strong action." President Marcos said the government would come down hard on profiteers.

Then the headlines moved on.

400 STATIONS WENT DARK — AND THE DOE HAD NO IDEA WHY

Two weeks later, a different number surfaced.

More than 400 gas stations across the country had stopped operating.

The PNP counted 425 closures. The DOE said it was investigating possible hoarding and profiteering. The stations claimed they had run out of supply.

But the timing was difficult to ignore. Prices were rising sharply. Inventory bought at lower prices was sitting in underground tanks. Closing for a few days and reopening after the next increase could turn old stock into higher-margin fuel.

The DOE said it did not know why the stations had closed.

Think about that. The government regulates the downstream oil industry. It requires permits, monitors inventories, and receives daily reports. Yet more than 400 stations could stop selling fuel at the same time, during a declared energy emergency, and the regulator's first public position was that it was still trying to find out what happened.

That is not control. That is observation.

THE NUMBERS THAT EXPOSE THE REAL SCORE

By the end of March, the government's enforcement record looked like this:

Seventy-one gas stations flagged for violations.

Fifty-four to fifty-five show-cause orders issued.

At least seven people arrested in separate hoarding and profiteering cases.

Six criminal cases filed.

Two gas station permits revoked.

More than 400 stations temporarily closed during the crisis.

The ratio is the story.

Two permit revocations out of 71 confirmed violations. Six cases filed while hundreds of stations stopped operating. A 24-hour deadline for explanations, followed by weeks of silence.

The downstream oil industry learned the same lesson it has learned before: the government's anger has an expiration date.

THE LAW HAS TEETH. THE GOVERNMENT JUST REFUSES TO USE THEM.

The Downstream Oil Industry Deregulation Act allows the DOE to cancel permits, impose administrative penalties, and refer violations for criminal prosecution. The Consumer Act prohibits price manipulation. The Price Act covers hoarding and profiteering during emergencies.

The legal tools exist.

What does not exist is a credible history of using them against large petroleum players with enough force to change behavior.

Small operators and drivers get arrested in buy-bust operations. Their names appear in police reports. Their seized fuel is photographed for the evening news.

But when dozens of licensed stations coordinate behavior that looks like advance pricing, refusal to sell, or strategic closure, the response becomes administrative correspondence.

Explain yourself within 24 hours.

And then what?

A SEPARATE SCAM — BECAUSE APPARENTLY ONE WASN'T ENOUGH

While the government was investigating stations for overpricing, the Securities and Exchange Commission shut down Dual Petroleum and Fuel Corporation.

The company had been offering "co-ownership" slots worth P500,000, promising investors monthly returns and projecting quarterly profits for 20 years. The SEC found it to be an unauthorized investment scheme. Registration revoked. The company and its five incorporators fined a combined P2 million.

Let that sit. Gas station operators were squeezing customers at the pump on one end, and offering them fake investment returns on the other.

The petroleum sector was running two rackets simultaneously, and both were operating in plain sight.

THE QUESTION NOBODY IN GOVERNMENT IS ASKING OUT LOUD

By March 30, the number of closed stations had dropped to 365 from 425. Some had apparently restocked and reopened. Quietly. Without explanation. Without accountability.

Which means many of those closures were not about empty tanks. They were about waiting.

Waiting for prices to go higher. Waiting out the government noise. Waiting for the show-cause orders to expire in a drawer somewhere.

And when the moment was right — when the margin was right — they opened back up. Business as usual.

The government set a 24-hour deadline for explanations and called it a crackdown. The industry sat on its hands for three weeks and called it a supply problem.

Seventy-one stations violated the rules. Two lost their permits.

That ratio — 2 out of 71 — tells you everything about how seriously the downstream oil industry takes the threat of government enforcement.

Delicadeza demands more than a press conference and a paper order. The Filipino public, the ones who lined up at gas stations that chose not to serve them, deserved more than that.

They're still waiting.