In an earlier column, “Step on the brakes, LTO,” this space asked the Land Transportation Office to reconsider its decision to permanently revoke the driver’s license of a man who, when confronted with a baseball bat, fought with his fists.

The issue was never whether road rage should be punished. Public roads are not places for confrontation, and aggressive behavior behind the wheel endangers everyone who happens to be stuck sharing the asphalt with those with short tempers. On that point, there is no disagreement.

The issue was whether the LTO crossed the line between regulation and full-blown judicial adjudication when it decided that the outcome of a physical altercation automatically proved to be a permanent lack of fitness to drive.

We concede a basic truth: road rage can reflect on a person’s mental fitness to operate a vehicle. Rage impairs judgment. Rage escalates risk. Rage kills. But that conclusion cannot be reached casually, emotionally, or administratively.

It must be established through evidence, due process, and, when necessary, a court proceeding. It cannot rest solely on a viral video or a summary determination by an agency whose mandate is regulatory, not judicial.

Just so we are clear: obstruction of traffic, reckless driving and endangerment of public safety fall squarely within the LTO’s jurisdiction. On these grounds, suspensions, fines, mandatory seminars and other penalties are not only appropriate but necessary. That is the job.

What we questioned, and continue to question, is the LTO’s authority to treat a fistfight, particularly one that resulted in no criminal charges, as a sufficient basis for permanent revocation on the ground that someone is “unfit” to be behind the wheel.

The incident, while regrettable, was a one-off that ended in an out-of-court settlement. Yet the LTO treated it as a defining judgment of character, effectively collapsing one bad moment into a lifetime ban.

A permanent revocation is not a minor sanction. It is not corrective; it is terminal. For many drivers, it effectively ends their livelihood. It cuts off income, mobility, and work. A 90-day suspension, fines, and mandatory penalties would have addressed the misconduct, sent a clear message and preserved proportionality. Discipline is meant to correct behavior, not impose economic death.

This argument does not extend to recidivists, drunk drivers, drug users behind the wheel and motorists whose recklessness leaves lives lost and limbs broken. Those cases justify the full weight of the law. Dangerous patterns deserve permanent removal from the road.

Having said that, this Contrarian readily concedes that the LTO and its mother agency, the Department of Transportation (DoTr), deserve credit for their increasingly consistent enforcement of traffic rules. Show-cause orders issued by the LTO against drivers caught on video committing violations, whether private motorists or law enforcement officers, send an important message about accountability.

Take the recent case involving a Manila police patrol vehicle that blocked a motorist at an intersection. The LTO focused on specific violations: obstruction of traffic and reckless driving. It also showed that the LTO is willing to tangle with other government entities, and that takes political will.

The DoTr, on the other hand, has shown restraint when enforcement becomes excessive, like when it relieved a Special Action Intelligence Committee for Transportation official after an ambulance was flagged on the EDSA Busway. The DoTr sent the message that rules must be applied with discernment, especially when public safety and compassion intersect.

Now, as things stand, there appears to be little recourse for the man permanently stripped of his driver’s license except to seek relief from the courts over what may be an excessive and unfair penalty.

Or the Department of Transportation could do the wiser thing — and revisit, on its own, this decision by the LTO that has begun to look less like discipline and more like punishment for its own sake.