WITH ALMOST one million pending cases across courts, the institutional deficiencies in the Philippine judicial system leave many detainees, victims, and families seeking justice in uncertainty.
As court cases crawl for years, the question of swift and dignified resolution remains an exhaustive journey, reinforcing the growing public distrust in government bodies that disenfranchise the already underprivileged majority of Filipinos.
An agonizing wait
For thousands of Filipinos behind bars, waiting for trial has become a punishment in itself. As of July 2025, the Bureau of Jail Management and Penology recorded an average of 292% jail congestion rate, with 87.32% of all persons deprived of liberty (PDL) still awaiting trial or judgment.
Beyond overcrowded cells and lost years, prolonged judicial delays take a heavy psychological toll on the PDLs. A 2020 study found that people in drawn-out cases tend to feel more hopeless about the future, adopt unhealthy coping strategies, and show signs of psychosomatic distress.
Ateneo Human Rights Center Executive Director Atty. Nicolene Arcaina noted that jail overcrowding, poor healthcare, lack of space, and family disconnect compound this mental strain. “There’s an inevitable effect on their mental health, emotional well-being [and] feelings of isolation, loneliness, and worthlessness,” she expounded in a mix of English and Filipino.
These effects ripple outward. When the accused is a family breadwinner, their detention heavily affects the lives of their family, who live in anxiety and uncertainty, a strain that Arcaina observed often leads to broken relationships.
Burdens of justice
The complex nature of systemic judicial challenges involves an interplay of various factors, such as inadequate manpower and resources, which enable delayed court verdicts.
Due to these factors, Arcaina explained that Philippine courts struggle to cope with the number of new cases filed each day. With only limited staff, lawyers, and judges to handle multiple cases across different courts, the judiciary’s capacity to handle legal proceedings remains constrained.
She also mentioned that the cases, especially those that involve plenty of witnesses or are too novel, require extensive probing before the court can render judgment. Sometimes, human rights defendants involved in politically motivated cases are even subjected to suppression through the extension of proceedings.
Additionally, Arcaina observed the tendency of some lawyers to delay cases by submitting smaller issues to higher courts, doubling the court docket load. She also pointed out that these legal obstructions magnify the public’s negative perception of the Philippine judicial system, causing them to opt for publicized and informal means in addressing their issues, such as the Tulfo brothers’ segments.
“‘[For] the poor, there’s no chance that they could get their justice in this kind of [judicial] system. I think that kind of perception—that we have an unfair and unreliable justice system, in addition to double standards against the poor—contributes to that distrust, ” Arcaina asserted in Filipino and English.
Each time the judiciary fails to deliver immediate resolutions, the Filipino people become disillusioned with the court’s ability to fulfill its function, eroding not only the public’s trust but also its sworn integrity.
Rebuilding trust
After years of public frustration over sluggish trials and clogged dockets, the government began introducing reforms meant to rebuild faith in the country’s justice system. Some are aimed at improving investigation and evidence handling, while others are focused on making legal services more accessible.
Last June, the University of the Philippines Manila launched the National Forensics Institute, with the aim of being a hub for training, research, and casework in forensic science—a crucial field for evidence gathering in investigations.
The judiciary has also tried to speed up trials through the Revised Guidelines for Continuous Trial of Criminal Cases, which set stricter schedules to prevent piecemeal hearings—cases heard one day at a time and repeatedly postponed until all evidence is presented.
Since then, a 2021 study found that clearance rates rose by 35 to 36 percentage points, though pending cases remained largely unaffected.
Additionally, the Supreme Court’s Unified Legal Aid Service, approved in August 2024, now requires private lawyers to provide at least 60 hours of pro bono work every three years. This measure intends to widen access to justice for marginalized communities.
For her part, Arcaina sees the potential of such rules, but notes that they “can only be meaningful if [people] veer away from the compliance mindset.” She explained that the challenge lies in ensuring that those hours translate into sustained, quality representation, and not just quick consultations or paperwork.
Ultimately, the path to a fair and functional justice system in the Philippines demands more than procedural fixes or compliance with new mandates. It calls for a system that puts people at its core—one built on empathy and compassion.
