The Venezuelan oil industry is entering a critical and rapid phase of operational collapse. Within 30 days, national production is expected to fall to 200,000 barrels per day, a volume almost entirely reliant on Chevron’s current operations in the country. The remainder of Petróleos de Venezuela SA (PDVSA) is shutting down well by well, while the regime tries to downplay the severity of this decline, framing it as “technical adjustments.”
However, the reality is much more serious. A complete shutdown of wells is already underway, especially in the Orinoco Oil Belt, which holds some of the planet’s largest crude reserves. Within PDVSA, discussions about the situation are muted: there is a lack of storage capacity and no diluents available to process heavy and extra-heavy crude. Without these two essential components, production becomes unfeasible.
Crude trapped underground
The crude from the Orinoco Belt has a gravity close to 8° API and needs diluents to reach the 16° API of Merey 16, the exportable standard. Currently, that diluent is non-existent. Without it, the crude does not flow, cannot be transported, and remains unsold. In response to this bottleneck, PDVSA has activated emergency protocols across its operations: throttling of wells, reduction of artificial lifting, and gradual shutdown of entire fields. In critical areas with saturated tanks, production has simply come to a halt.
Currently, Venezuelan production hovers around 500,000 barrels per day, but this figure is temporary. In a maximum of two weeks, according to operational sources, the only active producer will be Chevron, with its four fields operating at an average of 220,000 barrels per day. Yet even this scenario is misleading.
The Chevron paradox: oil without money
The key —and less visible— fact is that 60% of that crude (≈132,000 bpd) belongs to PDVSA and is delivered in oil, not cash. This means PDVSA receives crude… which it cannot sell due to the oil blockade. The equation is perverse: Venezuela produces; PDVSA receives oil; does not receive money; and cannot market that crude. Chevron’s license, rather than being a lifeline, appears as a surgical tool: to maintain a minimal controlled flow, prevent an abrupt energy collapse, and simultaneously financially suffocate the regime.
According to Bloomberg, PDVSA began shutting down wells in the Orinoco Belt on December 28th after running out of storage space. The internal plan foresees a reduction of at least 25% in production from the Belt, down to about 500,000 bpd, representing a nearly 15% cut of the total national production estimated at 1.1 million bpd before the escalation. The closures started in Junín, the division of the most extra-heavy crude, and will extend to Ayacucho and Carabobo. Internal sources describe it as “the last resort” due to the high costs and risks of reactivating shut wells.
A direct blow to the heart of the regime
For Nicolás Maduro, this scenario is a wake-up call. The oil blockade isn’t limited to financial sanctions, but represents a physical disruption of the production system. Shutting down wells in the Orinoco Belt is not a tactical maneuver; it signals structural exhaustion. Each day with wells off multiplies the cost of resuming production and erodes future recovery capacity.
The strategic message is clear and sequential: export blockade → inventory saturation → lack of diluents → technical shutdown of wells → minimal controlled reduction.
Oil, the last economic lever of Chavismo, is being neutralized without firing a single shot. And when, in 30 days, Venezuela produces barely what Chevron extracts, it will lay bare an undeniable truth: the collapse is not political or narrative; it is physical, operational, and measurable in barrels per day.