Permits, privilege, and the price we all pay

“THERE will be no permits.

- By Thamirran Chuciyanthan

The permit culture must end in Sri Lanka.” This was the resounding declaration from President Anura Kumara Dissanayake as he presented the 2026 Budget proposal.The plan to supply vehicles to Members of Parliament (MPs) on a strictly “return-after-term” basis echoes a long-overdue escape from a system that has, for decades, quietly drained public coffers. It is a system that has rewarded privilege over performance, entrenched inequality, and undermined the credibility of the state.

The Advocata Institute welcomes this decision. It is a vital critique of a “permit culture” that is a remnant of a feudal past, not a modern economy. A permit is, by definition, a special approval granting selected groups privileged access to benefits unattainable to the general public. It creates an inherently regressive, two-tier system: one for ordinary citizens, and another for those afforded special treatment.

When we examine the case of vehicle permits in Sri Lanka, the dynamic becomes disturbingly stark.

To understand the magnitude of this reform, one must understand the distortionary nature of the “permit.”

According to Finance Ministry officials, since 2020 alone, 25,508 duty-free vehicle permits have been issued to Government employees. Even during the economic constriction of recent years, the flow continued: 6,062 permits in 2024 and 2,043 in 2025.

In Sri Lanka, vehicles are expensive because of import tax — a policy imposed and strengthened by Parliament since the 1960s. Issuing exemptions (permits) is, therefore, a fundamentally flawed rationale. It’s the equivalent of penalising an entire class, with no basis for the punishment to begin with, before releasing the favoured students from sanction — all the while cleverly disguising the exemption as a so-called “benefit”. And who are the first beneficiaries? The very policymakers responsible for the high taxes.