The tax case that spoke Filipino

I was in a car I’d booked through a ride-hailing service one afternoon when a live feed of the recent impeachment proceedings came on the radio. The driver, not knowing that I was a lawyer, shook his head and said, almost to himself, “Sir, bakit ganun? Palaliman ng legal jargon, nawawala na sa understanding namin na mga ordinaryong mamamayan ang mga salita. Labanan na lang ito ng technical terms, nawawala na ang focus sa main issue.” (Sir, why is it that they keep using complex legal jargon that is not understandable by, us, ordinary citizens? It has become a contest of technical terms, and the focus on the main issue is gone.)

I didn’t have a good answer for him then, and, honestly, I’m not sure I have one now. But the question stayed with me. It captures something every Filipino has felt at some point, whether sitting across a contract, a court summons, or a live feed of a congressional proceeding. The law in our country arrives in a language that is not entirely our own.

A recent Supreme Court decision, however, takes a small but meaningful step in the other direction. And interestingly, it comes out of a tax evasion case.

THE CASE
In G.R. No. 210480, a taxpayer was criminally charged before the Court of Tax Appeals (CTA) with tax evasion under the National Internal Revenue Code. Dissatisfied with certain interlocutory rulings, the taxpayer went up to the Supreme Court via a Petition for Certiorari under Rule 65, alleging grave abuse of discretion. While the petition was pending, the CTA dismissed the criminal case, and that dismissal lapsed into finality. With no remaining justiciable controversy left, the Supreme Court dismissed the Petition for being moot and academic.

A routine disposition — except for one major detail: the decision was written entirely in Filipino.

Not just a paragraph or a ceremonial opening, but the entire decision — from its discussion on tax evasion, the jurisdictional analysis, the doctrine of mootness, to its final disposition — was rendered in our national language. Where one would normally read “tax evasion,” the decision spoke of pag-iwas sa buwis. Where one would expect “violation of law,” it reads paglabag sa batas. “Moot and academic” became pagkawalang-saysay. Even the act of taxation itself, arguably that most technical of subjects, was simply pagbubuwis.

The Court took the occasion to affirm that the law must speak in a language the people can comprehend, because doing so strengthens public trust and promotes a better understanding of judicial actions. By promulgating the decision in Filipino, the Court made the decision easier to read and understand for the everyday Filipino.

REFLECTING ON LANGUAGE AND THE LAW
I never expected to read an entire decision, much less a Supreme Court decision, in Filipino. For those of us who spent years of our lives understanding codals, digesting jurisprudence, and drafting protest letters and Petitions for Review, reading a Supreme Court decision in Filipino is quite a disorienting experience. It is the same law, the same doctrine, the same rigor — only suddenly, accessible to the very people it governs.

This ruling is a gentle but firm reminder that the Filipino language is more than capable of carrying the weight of complex legal and tax concepts. Pagbubuwis. Pag-iwas sa buwis. Paglabag sa batas. Pagkawalang-saysay. These are not lesser words. They are our words. And when our courts use them, the law stops being the exclusive vocabulary of the learned lawyer or jurist; it becomes, once again, the shared language of citizens.

Our day-to-day work is, and necessarily must be, governed by the technicals. But the moment we step out of the boardroom or courtroom and sit across a family-owned business, a first-time entrepreneur, or a ride-hailing driver curious about what is happening on the radio, we are no longer just academicians. We are communicators. And this decision of the Supreme Court is a good reminder that we already have a language built for that; that connects the law to the people it is meant to serve.

KALAYAAN, WIKA, AT KATARUNGAN
As we mark Independence Day on June 12, it is worth remembering that the freedom our heroes fought for was never just political. It was also the freedom to be ourselves — to think, to govern, and to render justice in our own tongue. Many of the works that shaped our national consciousness were written, or eventually found their fullest reach, in our own language. In the same way, the Supreme Court’s decision reflects that the law too, can speak in a voice that is recognizably our own.

Each time the law is written, read, or explained in a language that ordinary Filipinos can genuinely understand — whether in a ruling, a contract, an assessment notice, or even a live feed of a congressional proceeding — it becomes more than a technical exercise. It becomes a small act of institutional confidence and quiet independence.

The driver’s question was not naive. It was perceptive. It highlighted the silent, but persistent, distance between legal discourse and public understanding.  In choosing to answer, through action rather than rhetoric, the Supreme Court has taken a meaningful step toward a more accessible, and ultimately more trusted, system of justice.

The views or opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of Isla Lipana & Co. The content is for general information purposes only, and should not be used as a substitute for specific advice.

Jose Luis M. Yupangco is a manager in the Tax Services department of Isla Lipana & Co., the Philippine member firm of the PwC network.

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