Sri Lanka is being asked, once again, to live within limits. The Government’s call for ‘mindful consumption’ of fuel is not a gentle appeal. It is a stark reminder that the country remains dangerously exposed to global shocks. But if this moment feels familiar, it is because it is. We have been here before. And the real question is whether those in charge, and those on the ground, have learned anything at all.

Minister Nalinda Jayatissa is right to warn the public. With global energy markets under strain, Sri Lanka has little room for error. Fuel rationing is not a choice. It is a necessity forced upon a fragile economy that cannot afford another collapse. The QR-based system, now with nearly six million registrations, shows that the State is at least trying to impose order where chaos once reigned. Two million new users suggest that people are adapting, whether willingly or not.

But while the public adjusts, others are gaming the system. The arrest in Ambalantota, where more than 2,200 litres of diesel were hoarded in a private house, is not just a criminal case. It is a political failure. It exposes the gap between policy and enforcement. It shows that even now, in the shadow of a recent crisis, there are those who believe the rules do not apply to them.

This is not an isolated incident. The Government itself admits that 153 phone numbers have been used to illegally download QR codes. That is not a minor glitch. It is organised abuse. It raises serious questions about oversight, about loopholes, and about whether the system is being policed as tightly as it should be.

The truth is uncomfortable. Sri Lanka does not only suffer from shortages. It suffers from a culture of impunity. When fuel becomes scarce, a section of society does not think about conservation. It thinks about profit. It thinks about stockpiling, cutting deals, and exploiting desperation. That instinct did not disappear after the last crisis. It simply went quiet. Now it is returning.

The Government’s response, so far, has been predictable. There are warnings, press briefings, and promises of legal action. The Police and the CID have been instructed to act. But instructions are not enough. The country has heard this language before. What matters is whether those caught hoarding fuel or manipulating the system are actually punished, and punished quickly. Without that, these announcements are little more than noise.

There is also a deeper political issue at play. Rationing requires trust. People will accept limits if they believe the system is fair. They will tolerate inconvenience if they are confident that everyone is being treated equally. But the moment they suspect that some are cheating the system, that trust collapses. And when trust collapses, compliance follows.

This is where the Government must be careful. It cannot afford to lecture the public while failing to clamp down on offenders. It cannot speak of discipline while allowing loopholes to persist. If the rules are strict for ordinary citizens but flexible for those with connections or resources, the entire framework will unravel.

At the same time, the public cannot escape responsibility. The memory of fuel queues, of economic paralysis, of daily humiliation at petrol stations, is still fresh. That crisis was not only about supply. It was also about behaviour. Panic buying, hoarding, and speculation made a bad situation worse. If those habits return, no system, however sophisticated, will hold.

The global situation is not improving. Conflicts and disruptions continue to threaten energy supplies. For a country like Sri Lanka, which depends heavily on imports that means prolonged uncertainty. The idea this will pass in a few weeks is dangerously naive. This could stretch for months. It could get worse.

So the choice is clear. Either Sri Lanka treats this as an early warning and acts with discipline, or it drifts back into the same patterns that led to the crisis before. Mindful consumption is not a slogan. It is a test. Of governance, of enforcement, and of public maturity.

Right now, that test is already being failed in pockets. The question is how far that failure spreads before someone takes it seriously enough to stop it.