Sri Lanka is no stranger to energy crises. The memory of 2022 is still fresh, etched into the national psyche through images of endless queues, shuttered businesses, and anxious households counting down their last litres of fuel or cooking gas. No Government that has taken office since can credibly claim inexperience. The causes may differ, but the consequences are painfully familiar.

This time, the trigger is largely external. Global instability, particularly in the Middle East, has disrupted supply chains and sent shockwaves through energy markets. Yet for the ordinary citizen, the distinction between domestic mismanagement and international turmoil offers little comfort. What matters is the lived reality. Once again, queues are snaking across towns, productivity is faltering, and uncertainty is beginning to take hold.

What is more troubling, however, is not merely the crisis itself, but the manner in which it is being handled.

The reintroduction of the QR-based fuel rationing system should, in theory, have brought order. In 2022, it did precisely that. It was not a perfect solution, but it restored a degree of predictability and fairness. It reduced the need for people to spend days in queues and allowed the country to inch towards a fragile normalcy.

Today, the same system appears to be producing the opposite effect. Registration glitches, confusion over eligibility, and inconsistent implementation have deepened public frustration. Many are still unable to access the system, while others are grappling with outdated or mismatched vehicle and personal data. Instead of easing pressure, the mechanism has, at least in its current form, intensified it.

This points to a deeper issue. The Government’s response appears reactive rather than strategic. Policies are being rolled out in isolation, without the necessary coordination to ensure they function effectively on the ground. The decision to encourage or mandate work-from-home arrangements in the public sector, for instance, should have been introduced simultaneously with the QR system, not as an afterthought. Such measures are not merely complementary. They are essential in reducing demand and easing congestion.

Equally concerning is the tendency towards blanket solutions. A one-size-fits-all approach may offer administrative simplicity, but it risks overlooking the complexities of a modern economy. Not all sectors are equal in their contribution or their vulnerability. Treating them as such can have unintended and damaging consequences.

Sri Lanka has learned this lesson before. During the Covid-19 pandemic, sweeping curfews brought economic activity to a standstill. While they may have been necessary from a public health perspective, their economic fallout was severe and long-lasting. The country cannot afford to repeat that mistake under a different guise.

It is in this context that recent calls for a more nuanced approach deserve attention. The argument is straightforward. Energy distribution must prioritise sectors that sustain and grow the economy. Export industries, logistics, agriculture, and essential services require reliable access to fuel if the country is to maintain a degree of economic stability. Starving these sectors of energy risks deepening the crisis rather than managing it.

There are also groups whose livelihoods are being disproportionately affected by the current system. Ride-hailing drivers, for instance, depend entirely on mobility for their income. Restrictive quotas, without adequate consideration of their unique circumstances, threaten to push them to the margins. These are not peripheral concerns. They speak to the broader question of equity and fairness in times of scarcity.

Perhaps most importantly, there is a pressing need for transparency. In moments of national strain, clarity is as vital as policy. The public must be given a clear, data-driven understanding of the situation. How severe is the shortage? How long is it expected to last? What are the contingency plans? Without such information, speculation fills the void, often fuelling panic and undermining trust.

Leadership, in times like these, is not merely about making decisions. It is about making the right decisions, at the right time, with a clear sense of direction. It is about learning from the past, not merely recalling it.

Sri Lanka has been here before. The difference now must lie in how it responds. A crisis may be unavoidable. Chaos is not.