The Five (Generational) Injustices of Huang Shih-ming's Retirement

The Five (Generational) Injustices of Huang Shih-ming's Retirement

Last edited: 2026-11-08

Kao Jung-chih / Executive Director, Judicial Reform Foundation

Huang Shih-ming has applied for retirement. Compared to his previous dramatic performance of choosing to shatter like jade rather than resign, insisting on 'holding his post' no matter what, the rumors were proven true after all: it was all for his pension. By law, Huang Shih-ming certainly has the right to retire. However, because all eyes are on him, his actions carry immense symbolic meaning. To retire like this—rushing to retire in the first wave just as the preferential retirement provisions of the Judges Act took effect, grabbing his money before the criminal judgment is handed down—is truly unbearable to watch, especially when contrasted with his reinforced public image as a judicial 'iron man' and 'tough guy' who would seemingly sacrifice everything and stop at nothing for the sake of judicial justice. Such an exit leaves one utterly dismayed. At the same time, Huang Shih-ming's retirement case also highlights the injustice of officials shielding one another, the injustice of prosecutors being privileged over judges, the injustice of prosecutors being privileged over ordinary civil servants, the generational injustice between the older and newer generations within the prosecutorial system, and the injustice of depriving the entire young generation of Taiwan.

The People Do Not Owe Prosecutors Anything

Huang Shih-ming was born in 1950. In 1988, at the age of 38, he was selected as one of the Ten Outstanding Young Persons. Now 64, he has been a prosecutor for more than thirty years. Judges and prosecutors during the party-state era alike often lacked integrity, accepting red envelopes and bribes. Immersed in an authoritarian regime, they lorded over others and preyed upon the common people.

Of course, this does not mean Huang Shih-ming was necessarily one of them. The point is to emphasize that before the lifting of martial law, the majority of judges and prosecutors swore allegiance to money (bribery) and power (the party-state). They wronged the people far more than the people ever owed them anything.

Following 1990, the thriving social movement also propelled the judicial reform movement forward. However, taking the 1999 'National Judicial Reform Conference' as a watershed, only subsequent judicial reform movements achieved relatively comprehensive progress. In reality, this spans a period of merely 15 years or so.

Comparing reforms initiated from within the judiciary and prosecution, the judicial independence movement initiated in December 1993 by Room 303 of the Taichung District Court exerted a far-reaching influence, and interference in judicial rulings has been virtually eliminated to this day. Furthermore, in 2013, as many as 563 judges still signed a petition demanding reform of the Supreme Court. This demonstrates that the reform consciousness within the judiciary, though fluctuating, has never ceased.

Conversely, regarding internal reforms among prosecutors, the reform momentum represented by the Association for Prosecutorial Reform (APR) seemed to retreat into the system after the establishment of the Special Investigation Division (SID). With Chen Tsung-ming and Huang Shih-ming successively impeached and indicted, the SID is on the verge of collapse, and reformists appear crestfallen and unable to bridge the generational gap, with their reform momentum looking feeble.

The 'Sunshine Bill for Unified Prosecution,' touted to ensure prosecutorial independence, has been written into the Judges Act, yet prosecutors' offices still do not take it seriously in practice. Prosecutors' meetings are reduced to mere formalities, while the assignment, acceptance, and conclusion of cases rely entirely on the whims of chief prosecutors. Superior prosecutors still casually direct subordinate ones, refusing to issue written orders to shirk potential responsibility for success or failure, while institutional barriers are lacking and subordinates are powerless or unwilling to resist.

No wonder skepticism regarding political interference in the prosecutorial system is increasingly on the rise. Contrast this with the Judicial Yuan's utmost desire to 'divorce' the Ministry of Justice, while the Ministry of Justice, terrified of being 'dumped' by the Judicial Yuan, maintains an attitude of 'clinging tightly and refusing to let go.' Generally speaking, prosecutors' performance in reform consciousness and action has been disappointing. Yet they expect to enjoy the same treatment as judges and wield even greater power while refusing further supervision. We cannot help but ask: on what grounds?

The Injustice of Depriving an Entire Generation

Especially the generation represented by Huang Shih-ming wielded immense power in the early days, frequently bullying the people. Their procedural awareness and literacy in human rights and the rule of law fall far short of today's young prosecutors. As time passed, this generation spanning the authoritarian regime instead seized supreme prosecutorial power, making it difficult for brilliant young prosecutors to come to the fore.

As the nation's judicial and prosecutorial systems gradually got on track, compensation has also become increasingly generous to ensure judges and prosecutors have no worries for the future. However, the current guarantees of 'lifetime tenure' or 'generous retirement benefits' are built upon layers of injustice. How can this possibly convince the public?

First is the injustice of 'infinitely overextending' the interpretation of 'lifetime tenure.' Judges having lifetime tenure does not mean there cannot be a 'retirement age.' When our country copied the German Constitution, it only copied the first half regarding lifetime tenure, while intentionally or unintentionally omitting the second half stating that 'the retirement age of judges shall be determined by law.'

That would still be tolerable; what is fatal is the subsequent boundless, expansive interpretation leading to the bizarre conclusion that regardless of how old a judge is, or how physically frail and incapable of performing their duties they may be, they cannot be forced to retire. Consequently, this produced the abnormal result of adopting 'generous retirement benefits' to encourage judges to retire in order to 'promote the turnover of judicial personnel' (pay them off, settle the matter, and walk away?).

Second is the relative generational injustice of depriving the entire young generation of Taiwan. A special report by the Directorate-General of Personnel Administration (DGPA), titled 'A Study on Issues Related to the Personnel System for Judges and Prosecutors—Also Discussing Future Priorities for Amending the Judges Act,' has already noted that due to social developments such as 'aging' and 'declining birth rates,' alongside the 'global trend in retirement system reforms,' the income replacement rate for pensions (the ratio of retirement payout to pre-retirement salary) for civil servants in our country should not exceed 80%.

In reality, the pensions of Taiwan's civil servants are superior to those in the private sector, to say nothing of how far they exceed those of the blue-collar class. Before the retirement system reform, there was even the bizarre phenomenon where 'the pension collected exceeded the working salary.' The DGPA's recommendation of an 80% income replacement rate for our civil servants already exceeded the standards for European and American civil servants. However, there is always someone higher.

According to Article 78, Paragraph 2 of the Judges Act, the income replacement rate for judges and prosecutors can be as astonishingly high as 98%. This is not only an injustice of generational relative exploitation, but also an injustice of being privileged over ordinary civil servants.

To guarantee the 'independence' of judges and prosecutors, their compensation was substantially increased. Following this increase, everyone's maximum salary grade can reach the level of a 'cabinet minister.' Senior judges and prosecutors easily command monthly salaries of 100,000 to 200,000 NTD, and their retirement income replacement rates surpass those of ordinary civil servants, reaching up to 98%.

In other words, even calculated on a monthly salary of 200,000 NTD, the difference between retiring and not retiring is a mere 4,000 NTD, meaning they still collect 196,000 NTD. The generous pensions of ordinary civil servants are already capable of straining public finances; how can the ridiculously high income replacement rates for judges and prosecutors be considered fair and reasonable?

Why the Hurry to Retire?

Huang Shih-ming's haste to retire is clearly not about 'making a timely exit while at the height of success.' Rather, it is to exploit the biggest loopholes for maximum personal gain before the political landscape shifts, before laws can be altered, and before the court ruling becomes unpredictable. This once again shatters the myth of the 'prosecutor' built around his personal idolization, while embodying systemic generational injustice.

Looking at general cases, the DGPA has already predicted that the provisions in the Judges Act concerning retirement benefits for judges and prosecutors must and will be amended. This is done not only for generational justice, but also for sustainable operations—frankly speaking, to prevent national bankruptcy. At the same time, senior prosecutors like Huang Shih-ming, compared to judges and the younger generation, can be said to have contributed the least to the people and human rights. Before the foreseeable amendment of the Judges Act to lower pensions, they are instead the ones taking away the most taxpayer money. How can judges and young prosecutors possibly accept this?

Regarding individual cases, the Judges Act restricts the referral authorities for prosecutorial discipline exclusively to the Control Yuan and the Ministry of Justice. Previously, the Prosecutor Evaluation Commission referred Chen Shou-huang, whose 'circumstances were relatively minor,' to the Ministry of Justice, where he was immediately disciplined by Luo Ying-she; Huang Shih-ming, whose 'circumstances were relatively severe,' was referred to the Control Yuan, but two impeachment motions were blocked, leaving him completely undisciplined. This has long since turned right and wrong upside down.

Having 'failed in the political maneuvering' at the Control Yuan, the Control Yuan will presumably not handle the same case again. The Ministry of Justice remains 'firmly guarded' by Minister Luo Ying-she, who cannot bear to impose any disciplinary action on Huang Shih-ming (fearing he would be heavily dealt with if sent to the Disciplinary Court?). Even after Huang was indicted, she could not bear to suspend him from office (suspension would temporarily bar him from applying for retirement and spare him the media controversy and criticism over his 'sweet retirement').

Moreover, even if Huang Shih-ming is conclusively convicted, the Ministry of Justice might still fail to impose administrative disciplinary action (protecting one's own to the end?), allowing his pension to be 'securely pocketed.' After all, the regulations for reclaiming prosecutors' pensions are vague; even if the Civil Service Retirement Act applies, the requirements are extremely strict. Furthermore, Huang Shih-ming might still brazenly claim he is a prosecutor protected by 'independent' status, exempt from the Civil Service Retirement Act. Ironically, it is precisely because of his 'lack of independence' that he is subject to criminal punishment.

Throughout this entire article, there is no intention to target Huang Shih-ming alone, yet it seems impossible not to revolve around him. This is because Huang Shih-ming represents far more than just himself; he embodies the injustice of the prosecutorial system across an entire generation.

This article is an AI-generated translation of the original Chinese text. In the event of any discrepancy, the Chinese version shall prevail.

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