A custom-built software in District 1 is shaping the future of Vietnam's judicial system
When Chief Judge of the Supreme People's Court Nguyễn Văn Quảng stood at the headquarters of the Regional People's Court 1 in Saigon on April 29, 2026 and announced plans to expand the electronic court model across HCMC — a jurisdiction that handles roughly one quarter of the country's total caseload according to judicial statistics — he was confirming a peculiar reality: Vietnam's most ambitious judicial digitization system is not designed by the Supreme Court, has no central budget, and originated from a grassroots initiative by a district court.
This is not a minor detail. It is the entire story.
The model that Quảng had just praised was self-built by the old District 1 People's Court starting in early 2025, then expanded when three district courts — 1, 3, and 4 — merged to form Regional People's Court 1 during the judicial system restructuring. According to Chief Judge of Regional People's Court 1 Nguyễn Quang Huynh at the working session, the unit had accomplished this work despite having no budget or initial direction from higher authorities. In other words: Vietnam's judicial system is preparing to scale a product that was never part of its own plan.
The real problem: two systems running in parallel
The most notable point from the working session did not come from Quảng but from newly appointed Chief Judge of HCMC People's Court Phạm Quốc Hưng. Hưng directly raised a technical obstacle: the software of Regional People's Court 1 cannot yet connect with the court management system (QLTA) of the Supreme Court, forcing units to operate two platforms simultaneously.
This is a classic problem in public sector digital transformation in Vietnam — and not only in Vietnam. When grassroots levels move faster than central authorities, the end product is typically a jumble of systems that cannot communicate with each other. Officials must enter data twice, submit reports in both directions, and every time-saving advantage that digitization promises is erased at the integration point.
Quảng asked Regional People's Court 1 to complete additional procedures for appeals, supervisory review, and retrial — the software currently only suits the first-instance phase — before the Supreme Court considers formal adoption. This is a reasonable technical requirement, but it also reveals a reality: the central level has not yet committed. Quảng's statement, "If these steps can be improved, the Supreme Court will consider adopting the model," is the language of an organization observing, not investing.
Why HCMC, why now
The choice of HCMC as a priority area has clear logic. According to Quảng, the city handles approximately one quarter of the country's caseload. If a digitization model cannot work in Saigon, it will not work anywhere. Conversely, if it works here, political and administrative pressure to expand to Hanoi, Da Nang, and the provinces will increase significantly.
But timing also matters. Vietnam is undergoing its largest judicial system reform since the amended Court Organization Law took effect — including merging district courts into regional courts, a structural change that has disrupted case management procedures nationwide. In that context, software that can digitize processes from entry to exit becomes a crisis management tool, not just a technology upgrade.
Additionally, the new regional courts are handling more complex caseloads than the previous district courts. Paper files are piling up, judges are overwhelmed, and manual case assignment mechanisms invite corruption. The case distribution module — whether random or by specialty — that Regional People's Court 1 uses addresses one of the sector's longest-standing weaknesses: the ability to interfere with case assignment.
The gap between technical transparency and judicial transparency
Quảng emphasized that the software must help citizens understand processing deadlines, document status, and whether related documents have been digitized and made public. This is a reasonable standard — and it is a low one.
Procedural transparency differs from judicial transparency. Citizens knowing which step their file is at does not mean they know why a judge decided as they did, whether outside factors interfered, or how similar cases were handled previously. The Regional People's Court 1 electronic court system — as described in documents — is a system of better internal management, not a system of public accountability.
This is not wrong. But it should be called by its true name. When Quảng speaks of increasing transparency for the public, he is talking about reducing administrative inconvenience — a practical, useful goal — not opening trial data for independent oversight. A public case database in the style of PACER (the U.S. federal court records system) or CourtListener still has no place in Vietnam's judicial system roadmap.
The sealing stage, digital signatures, and legal limits
A small technical detail but one that says much: according to Huynh, only the document sealing stage cannot yet be performed in the digital environment. Once the unit receives digital signature certificates, the system can add functions for drafting and signing documents online.
This is a legal bottleneck, not a technical one. Vietnam's legal framework on the legal value of electronic documents in proceedings is still being refined. The 2023 amended Electronic Transaction Law opened the door, but regulations and circulars guiding the judicial sector remain incomplete. Until specific regulations on digital signatures in civil, administrative, and criminal proceedings are issued in a coordinated manner, all electronic court models must maintain parallel paper processes.
This issue matters because it shows that scaling software is a necessary condition, not a sufficient one. If the legal framework does not keep pace, the result will be officials printing documents for sealing, signing paper, then scanning back in — the classic digitization paradox.
A perspective from the Vietnamese community in America
For the Vietnamese community in the United States — particularly families in Little Saigon (Orange County), San Jose, and Houston who frequently have matters involving Vietnamese courts — this story has more practical significance than appears on the surface.
Common cross-border civil cases in the diaspora community include: disputes over inherited real estate in Saigon and southern provinces, divorces with foreign elements, recognition and enforcement of foreign court judgments, power of attorney for land transactions, and contract disputes between Viet Kieu and domestic partners. All currently bear exceptionally high transaction costs because files must be sent through consular channels, authenticated, notarized, then submitted in person to the court.
If the Regional People's Court 1 model truly allows online case filing and progress inquiry — and if it eventually opens to foreign lawyers' representation — the cost and processing time for cross-border cases could decrease significantly. This is a concrete benefit, not a theoretical one.
But with conditions. The current system, as described, is an internal portal plus a portal for people in Vietnam. It remains unclear whether the data architecture allows identity authentication from abroad (via valid Vietnamese passport, foreign passport, or visa exemption document). This is a technical and policy issue in which the Viet Kieu community has direct interest to monitor.
A second diaspora-related point involves the integration of citizen ID data and phone numbers into system information fields. For Vietnamese citizens holding second nationality or permanent residence abroad, having personal data stored in a court system without clear data protection mechanisms — Vietnam still lacks comprehensive personal data protection law equivalent to the EU's GDPR — is a risk that needs clarification.
The political economy of judicial digital transformation
One rarely asked question: who pays for the expansion?
Hưng was straightforward — HCMC People's Court will propose that the city provide support. This means the planned budget will not come from central authorities but from local budget. This funding model has the advantage of flexibility, but it also creates technical inequality between provinces: HCMC, Hanoi, Da Nang, Binh Duong — jurisdictions with strong revenue — will have more modern electronic courts than poorer provinces.
If this trend continues, Vietnam could end up with a fragmented digital judicial map: Saigon using the Regional People's Court 1 software, Da Nang using a pilot transfer version — already mentioned in source documents — other provinces possibly developing their own or waiting for central initiatives. This is exactly the scenario the Supreme Court needs to prevent if it truly wants a unified national system.
Meanwhile, the IT Department of the Supreme Court — the unit that should be leading — finds itself in a difficult position. It already has its own QLTA system. Now it must decide: integrate with the lower court model (lose credibility), or require lower courts to switch to its platform (lose speed and possibly functionality).
Regional comparison: where Vietnam stands
Singapore has operated eLitigation since 2013 — a mandatory electronic filing system for all civil cases. South Korea has the Korean Electronic Court System with over 90% of civil cases filed electronically. Malaysia launched e-Court in 2011. China deployed specialized Internet courts in Hangzhou, Beijing, and Guangzhou starting in 2017, handling e-commerce cases entirely online, including video trial sessions.
Vietnam, as of 2026, is only beginning to expand an internal management software written by a district court. The gap with the region is clear. That does not mean it cannot catch up — Vietnam has proven the ability to leapfrog in mobile telecommunications and electronic payments — but it means the reference frame needs adjusting. Expanding the Regional People's Court 1 model is not a breakthrough; it is a basic step that neighboring countries took ten to fifteen years ago.
Prospects: three scenarios for the next 18 months
Scenario 1 — Successful integration. The Supreme Court adopts the model after Regional People's Court 1 completes appeals and supervisory review procedures. The IT Department builds a bridge to QLTA. The legal framework for digital signatures is completed. By late 2027, HCMC, Da Nang, and Hanoi operate in sync. This is the best scenario, but it requires political coordination that Vietnam's judicial system has not regularly demonstrated.
Scenario 2 — Fragmentation persists. Each regional court or province develops its own variation. The Supreme Court maintains QLTA. Officials continue entering data twice. Citizens are promised transparency but must still visit the court to file paper because the sealing process is not digitized. This is the most likely scenario based on precedent in public sector digital transformation.
Scenario 3 — Forced centralization. The Supreme Court decides not to adopt the Regional People's Court 1 model, instead announcing a new national platform led by the IT Department. Lower-level initiatives are frozen. Progress slows but coordination is ensured. This is the scenario that reformers within the judicial sector fear most.
The choice between these three scenarios does not lie in technology. It lies in the capacity of Vietnam's judicial system to manage a reform product coming from the bottom up — something that Vietnam's bureaucratic apparatus, whatever the sector, has not yet grown comfortable with.
Conclusion: the real measure is not the software
The success measure for Vietnam's electronic court system is not the number of regional courts deploying software, but three simple questions: Can citizens file documents without visiting the court? Can lawyers access their clients' case files remotely? Are final judgments made public for societal oversight?
The Regional People's Court 1 model, despite being noteworthy as an initiative, does not yet clearly answer any of these three. It is an improvement in internal governance — important, but modest. If Vietnam's judicial system and HCMC stop here and declare victory, reform will only be digitizing paper processes, not opening the judiciary.
April 29, 2026 in District 1 is therefore not a breakthrough moment. It is an experimental moment — and the hardest part of the experiment is only just beginning.