Democracy does not live long with us; we're able to sustain it for only one generation at most. 

Of course, we've only had a go at it twice. But with the untold losses we've suffered with each failure, how can we afford another?

Our first chance came after our last colonial masters left us alone, in 1946, to choose our leaders among ourselves by free vote. But habits acquired and solidified through centuries of colonial subjugation carried into our first experience with democracy, making ourselves subjects of much the same sort of patronage, except this time it was native patronage.

That's why we were quick to fall for Ferdinand Marcos's promise of New Society – under martial law! Before that, democracy had not even lasted the 30 years that make a full generation – it fell short by 4 years.

When Marcos was done with us, we were in worse shape; we were more numerous with yet scarcer resources  and opportunities to help ourselves to, we had been buried deeper into debt, and we lagged behind nations we had once led in socioeconomic development.

We did get Marcos out in the end, after about half a generation, from 1972 to 1986, and drive him and his family to foreign exile. We did it in one miraculous moment, by a four-day street vigil, and we have since been congratulating ourselves for it in annual commemoration.  

But we were not rid of Marcos, not really. None of his family, cronies, and accomplices went to jail; in fact, his heirs were back after 6 years and in no time would become re-entrenched in power.

Meantime, we elected another plundering president – Joseph Estrada. We got him out of office soon enough, in midterm, even got him convicted and detained, only to be pardoned by his successor, Gloria Arroyo, who had stepped up from vice president. 

After serving out Estrada’s leftover term, Arroyo maneuvered to retain the presidency on a rigged vote; she only had to put on the proper look on national television and say sorry. Then she turned around and also got herself indicted, also for plunder, but also got off, thanks to a Supreme Court she had managed to pack with appointees during her unusually long – nearly 10 years – and, for the most part, fraudulent incumbency.

Now, are we surprised history is back with a vengeance so soon, a mere generation after Marcos? 

Back to exact justice for ignoring its lessons, history sends us a president too obvious to be deniable as deviant – Rodrigo Duterte. Still taking no chances, it surrounds him with Estrada, Arroyo, and Ferdinand Marcos Jr to make the foursome that recalls the most notorious gang of modern Chinese history.

China is no coincidence. History does not work that way; like nature, it has its own purposeful workings. China is cast as Duterte's patron.

One of Duterte's first acts was to cede to China strategic and potentially resource-rich waters of the West Philippine Sea. He has also begun to make deals with China, shutting out other investors, local ones included – notably in infrastructure building and in the resort industry – and to contract Chinese loans on lopsided if not downright criminal terms. 

Although expressly, itchingly predisposed to dictatorship (“Yes, I am a dictator”), strictly speaking, Duterte is no dictator – not yet. But what difference does it make? Without having to hijack democracy, as his professed idol Marcos did, so far he has been getting his way all the same. 

Thousands are dead in his war on drugs. A senator who hounded him from his days as city mayor for death-squad killings has been in jail for longer than a year now on a charge precooked by state lawyers out of testimonies solicited from convicts serving life terms for drug trafficking. The assertive chief justice is all but impeached, for hardly impeachable offenses, but, to avoid a likely drawn-out, hard-to-manage, and uncomfortably revelatory impeachment trial in the Senate, she is delivered, for a quieter, quicker, and surer conviction, to a Supreme Court whose Duterte-friendly justices constitute the majority.

With enough oversight institutions coopted and a police force well rewarded and guaranteed immunity from prosecution, what more does Duterte need to be able to pull off autocracy? At any rate, he always goes for more; it's in his nature. And he’s only just begun.  

If we still don't see Duterte's role in retributive history, I don't know what it will deal us next. – Rappler.com

BANGKOK, Thailand – With the Philippines a major destination of remittances, the benefits of addressing the digital divide and of harnessing the power of fintech should be clear-cut.

Taken together, both steps can increase the level of access to capital and financial inclusion, and importantly perhaps also in the long run, bring down fees charged to millions of Filipino workers at home and abroad.

Competition and innovation in finance are powerful forces for change and have the potential to benefit people across Southeast Asia.

That's a view shared and discussed here in Thailand as the Milken Institute co-hosts a "Future of Finance" roundtable with the central bank of Thailand, and at the 21st annual Milken Institute Global Conference starting in late April in Los Angeles.

In the new landscape of finance — with "fintech" serving as shorthand for the technologies that are delivering innovations, as well as new challenges and opportunities to the once staid banking sector — up for debate are future business models, regulatory frameworks, and how to align fintech practitioners, investors, and beneficiaries.

From blockchain to crypto currencies including Bitcoin and Ethereum, as well as Initial Coin Offerings of ICOs that allocate "tokens" as a new means of crowdfunding capital, the language and disruptions buffeting the mainstream banking and financial services industry can seem overwhelming.

Yet, just as businesses and consumers overcame fears and concerns about the advent of disruptions wrought by automated teller machines, or ATMs, fear of technology's impact on an evolving finance industry should not hold back change. Fintech is a disruption to be embraced.

That's certainly a view echoed in comments shared with us by one of Japan's digital pioneers.

"We are strong believers in the power of digital transformation evoked by token economies and fintech innovation," said Taizo Son, investor and founder of Mistletoe, a hub for startups and overall entrepreneurial ecosystems. Taizo is the youngest brother of another tech pioneer, Softbank's Masayoshi Son.

"However, such technologies also hold the potential to promote the already widening income gap in our society," said Taizo Son. "As entrepreneurs and architects of innovation we need to be aware of the important role we play in building a society that remains empathic and inclusive to all people in this era of increasingly autonomous technology."

Indeed, at a time of growing inequality, how to ensure a positive, meaningful impact from fintech?

The unmet need for basic banking services is significant across much of Southeast Asia. Only 27% of the region's 600 million inhabitants had a bank account in 2016, according to consulting firm KPMG. And herein lies opportunity to find meaning and impact through fintech.

The 2017 Accelerating Financial Inclusion in Southeast Asia with Digital Finance study, conducted by the Asian Development Bank and consulting firms Oliver Wyman and MicroSave, found that opening the door to financial services to the unbanked could increase the GDP of the Philippines and Indonesia by as much as 3% and Cambodia's by 6%.

In emerging economies such as Cambodia, only 5% of the population have access to formal banking services. This level of "unbanked" has negative repercussions for the region.

With little to no access to formal banking services, too many people in Asia — including in the Philippines — go without the basic protections of a savings account, and also may well face relatively higher costs for sending or receiving money. This, in a region where remittances were valued at US$236 billion in 2016, according to the World Bank.

"Having access to basic financial services can reduce hunger, increase education and generally improve the quality of life," said Queen Máxima of the Netherlands, UN Secretary-General's Special Advocate for Inclusive Finance for Development, in her speech to attendees at the Singapore Fintech Festival 2017.

"I am convinced that fintech's greatest achievement will be not just helping the unbanked, but also the underbanked — individuals who have insufficient access to financial services—to live a better life," adds venture capitalist and fintech influencer Spiros Margaris.

Yet, the sustained benefits of fintech in the Philippines will only be realized if a proper ecosystem is created and maintained — one that addresses concerns of regulators while benefiting innovators and most importantly, consumers. Narrowing the digital divide will continue to be a fundamental need.

In general, increased mobile phone ownership and internet penetration are key factors in spurring consumer adoption of mobile financial services. For the Philippines, there is the added challenge of addressing relatively high Internet access and speed issues.

The true measure of success for fintech should not be deal size or quantity but in expanded horizons.

True success is when fintech helps once-poor farming communities access funds to bring their crops to market, or helps small shopkeepers to grow bigger, or provides seed money for a young entrepreneur ready to turn a great idea into a concrete reality.

Beyond the fintech hype and jargon, the human element of financial technology should not be forgotten in the Philippines. Assessments of fintech must go beyond counting fortunes made and businesses disrupted or created, but also include a measure of Filipinos helped. – Rappler.com

Curtis S. Chin, a former US ambassador to the Asian Development Bank, is managing director of advisory firm RiverPeak Group, LLC and Asia fellow at the Milken Institute. Jose B. Collazo, a Southeast Asian analyst, is an associate with RiverPeak Group, LLC. Follow them on Twitter at @CurtisSChin and @JoseBCollazo.

Editor's Note: This piece was originally published as a PacNet commentary on March 19. Rappler is reposting this piece with the permission of the author and the original publisher. 

A proposed joint development (JD) in the West Philippine Sea (WPS) between the Philippines and China has revived debates on how best to move forward in the longstanding regional flashpoint. There should be no debate – the Philippines should enter into the JD, even if the partner is a state-owned entity, as long as it can deliver. Most importantly, JD does not necessarily impact adversely on the 2016 arbitral ruling, and the Philippine sovereignty and sovereign rights position on the WPS. The Philippine service contract (SC) system may offer a solution for both countries and can accommodate a JD. This approach to JD can enhance the country's energy security, create jobs, promote technology and knowledge transfer, and contribute in dispute management.

According to Philippine law, the government may directly undertake exploration and development of indigenous petroleum resources, or indirectly by awarding SCs to technically competent and financially capable entities, local or foreign. Service contractors, in return, can partake of the revenue sharing to collect their service fees and operating expenses.

Pragmatism as regional norm

Southeast Asian countries are inclined to take a pragmatic approach on contested resource-rich areas. In fact, the Philippines is the only Southeast Asian country that has yet to enter into a JD with a neighbor over a disputed maritime area. Malaysia and Thailand (1979 MoU; 1990 JD Agreement), Malaysia and Vietnam (1992), Thailand and Vietnam (1997), Indonesia-Malaysia-Vietnam (2000), Vietnam and China (2000), Cambodia and Vietnam (2001), and Brunei and Malaysia (2009) have all entered into various forms of JD. It is no coincidence that Malaysia and Vietnam, the most active in JDs, are among the region's largest energy producers. State-owned energy firms (e.g., Malaysia's Petronas, Petrovietnam, Indonesia's Pertamina, Thailand's PTT) are at the forefront of these deals. Even tiny Timor Leste had a JD with Australia (2003), a case of a small and big neighbor setting aside dispute for a pragmatic resource cooperation.

The 1982 UNCLOS noted the dilemma of countries in need of harnessing resources in disputed maritime areas without diminishing their claims. Provisional arrangements in the exclusive economic zone (Part V Art 74 para 3) and continental shelf (Part VI Art 83 para 3) are enshrined in the constitution of the oceans, and there is considerable jurisprudence and global state practice on it. Maritime delimitation need not even precede or its absence need not constitute an effective impediment as proven by some of the above-cited JDs.

Recognizing attendant political and legal risks, most JD agreements use standard clauses saying that such interim practical undertakings will not jeopardize or affect the claims or positions of contracting parties. Even the controversial 2005 Tripartite Joint Marine Seismic Undertaking (JMSU) between the Philippines, Vietnam, and China carried a similar clause: "WHEREAS, the Parties recognize that the signing of this Agreement shall not undermine the basic position held by the Government of each Party on the South China Sea issue."

Constitutional openings

Political will is a key element of JD and President Rodrigo Duterte seems determined to turn the concept into reality. The Philippine Constitution (Art XII, Sec 2) allows the President to enter into agreements with foreign companies for the exploration, development, and utilization of minerals and petroleum, providing cover for JD. The exclusive use and enjoyment of marine wealth applies to all maritime zones, but curiously omitted is any mention of the continental/insular shelf, where seabed minerals, like oil and gas, are extracted. Perhaps the framers of the 1987 Constitution wanted to allow for the JD option given that provisional arrangements were encouraged by the 1982 UNCLOS.

Furthermore, the Constitution and the Philippine petroleum law (PD 87) have no expressed prohibition on partnering with a state-owned firm. China's key strategic sectors, such as energy, power, transportation, telecommunications, and banking are in the hands of the state so it is only likely that it will nominate a state-owned firm to work with its Philippine counterpart (e.g., state-owned PNOC) to implement a JD if both sides agreed to it.

The 60/40 ownership ratio (in favor of the Philippines) stipulated in the Constitution is not an obstacle. The ratio does not apply to the SC stake/interest per se, but rather to the net proceeds arising from production sharing – at least that is how the Department of Energy has interpreted it. As such, SC57 has the following ownership stake breakdown: 51% CNOOC, PNOC 28% and Mitra (Malaysian firm), 21%. SC38 in Malampaya, the country's largest operating natural gas field, has a more lopsided breakdown in favor of foreign entities – 45% owned by Shell, 45% by Chevron, and only 10% by PNOC. This works well for joint developments, which are more concerned with cost and benefit sharing between contracting parties than ownership.

Search for a face-saving formula

Like any sovereign state, the Philippines awarded offshore SCs in WPS without taking into account others' claims, but the persistence of disputes affected the attractiveness of these SCs. The difference between a SC and JD seem clear from the Philippine standpoint, but the Chinese may prefer ambiguity for good reason. China can take part in a Philippine service contract (under Philippine law) and promote it domestically (in China) as JD (to save face at home), a point I made in an earlier piece.

China has shown interest in being a Philippine service contractor – not even technically a JD partner. In 2006, CNOOC bought a 51% stake in SC57 (Calamian), but this was not acted upon. And, in 2013, CNOOC and the Philippine private energy firm Philex discussed partnership for SC72 (in Recto Bank), which is within China's 9-dash line claim. These were reported as commercial deals, and there was no substantial mention of JD. These examples are lost opportunities for both sides, especially Manila. It could have engaged China (via CNOOC) to explore and develop oil and gas in WPS under domestic law. It is likely China might want to package participation in a Philippine-based SC as JD for domestic public consumption.

Moving forward

Improving bilateral relations and confidence-building measures since 2016 are creating favorable conditions for the resumption of upstream activities in the area. JD will send a good signal to industry and make the Philippines attractive again to big players, including regional SOEs. JD is a political as much as commercial undertaking and government saw it as a realistic, feasible, and promising way forward in the WPS. Duterte can use his high public approval as a mandate to proceed. CNOOC has long expressed its interest in working with Philippine and/or other foreign partners. Manila should be open to all willing and capable partners, regardless where they come from, and this seems to be the position of the current administration.

The present Philippine government has several cards to play. Duterte enjoys tremendous goodwill from China. JD is more important for Manila from an energy standpoint given increasing energy requirements and aging fields, while it is more important for Beijing to score political (at home) and diplomatic (peripheral diplomacy) points. Beijing may take a softer line and agree to be a contractor for SCs 57 or even 58 (further west), but may take a firmer stance for a JD in SC72. Proximity and existing infrastructure also work in Manila's favor. Palawan and Luzon are the nearest landmasses to WPS and there is a downstream infrastructure in Batangas and Bataan provinces (in Luzon) that can be bolstered to serve a burgeoning market. Lastly, the administration may have decided not to assert the 2016 arbitral ruling now, but that does not mean it cannot leverage it. – Rappler.com

Lucio Blanco Pitlo III is a research fellow at the Asia-Pacific Pathways to Progress Foundation. He is based in Washington DC for graduate studies on defense, diplomacy, and development at American University and scholar internship at the Woodrow Wilson Center for International Scholars. The views expressed here are his own.

It must be that bad when even Playboy decides to call it quits.

Facebook’s absolute desire to connect us mortals, the consequences be damned, unmasks not just the duplicitous nature of our relationship with it, but the algorithmic sums of what the behemoth has earned out of it: $40 billion, and counting.

Over the years, here’s how it has been for us users in light of the exposé on how Facebook’s data had been harvested for political pofiling by Cambridge Analytica, the data analytics firm that worked for Donald Trump’s presidential campaign. Since 2004, when Facebook was founded, we have joined it for what it promised: to make new friends and reconnect with old ones; to reach out to real people and engage them in conversations; to promote ourselves, our advocacies, our politics, and our campaigns; to share what we do, eat, buy, and feel; and, yes, to announce our heartbreaks or change of status, whichever came first.

Backdoor and underneath, Facebook has – and continues – to mine it all, the tech giant being at its core a data company, not just a sharing platform for our vanities. To be sure, they’ve told us bits and pieces about this through their terms of service, in our profile settings, and in those advisory pop-ups that we see every now and then – which we, of course, don’t read at all, especially the fine print that accompanies them. Data collected from us was being sold both directly to those annoying ads that you see and indirectly through third parties.

If Facebook exercised any control over the latter, it did so as a token move, as we had discovered in the series of investigative stories on it. 

This agnostic approach to data made Facebook indifferent toward who was adding to that supply chain, whether they’re companies out to gain sheer profit, politicians out to game sentiments, trolls out to earn money from lies, or fake news sites out to click-bait us and pollute the already murky waters of online chatter. Emboldened by what it was acquiring passively, Facebook then decided to be proactive about it and target our behavior to shape our desires and create individual chambers for what it deems we want and need based on our online profile. They call it algorithm, we call it hijacking – of our choices, our conversations, our public sphere.

Unregulated, unchecked and riding high on its god-like reputation, Facebook is, in many ways, engaged both in legitimate business and in the black market, where data is being sold to the highest bidder with the least public scrutiny.

It came as no surprise then that when the Cambridge Analytica scandal broke, it took Mark Zuckerberg all of 5 days to react in a public post. Because what the controversy exposed is Facebook’s own lifeblood and core: earning from our individual data, certainly a business model that it shares with the rest of the world’s data giants such as Google and Amazon.

Now the giants are quaking, as they should, although belatedly.

Facebook saw at least $50 billion shaved off its value before the Easter break. It is now forced to take heed of what had repeatedly fallen on its deaf ears, recently taking down, for example, groups notorious for their hate claims (though much more needs to be done in this aspect, and the Philippines should not be again at the bottom of their priorities).

Policymakers around the world are not just crafting and discussing regulation but also investigating and understanding (thank God!) how the technology backend works (which means that our very own Senator Grace Poe, given her surface, almost superficial view of this issue, has a lot of homework to do as lead policymaker in the Senate on public information and media).

Facebook also now faces the prospect of customized regulation in each country or continent, and we’ve seen this already from what it chooses not to offer, for example, to its European users given Europe’s tight regulation.

On a broader scale, what is happening to Facebook impacts the entire data business model on which many companies are founded, and the entire technology industry that now controls the global economy and dominates the world market. If you think this is all going to go away soon and does not have far-reaching consequences down the line, think again.

Meanwhile, we assume you’re still on Facebook. And asking yourself why. We feel you – as we're on the same boat, struggling with our own questions, doubts, and pain. – Rappler.com

I have just started walking again.

No. This is not some dramatic story about a serious accident or illness resulting in a severe loss of mobility. Not a story about a hard struggle that ended in a magnificent triumph.

We see a lot of those stories in media. And if they are true, not faked by people who need the attention, these are admirable people. These stories are inspirational and are indeed worth sharing.

Yet the reason they are so often fabricated by the insecure and attention-hungry is precisely that – they do get attention.  Well-deserved attention that those with weak egos crave for.

But I am not talking about that sort of thing. I am talking about new beginnings that are given far less attention. The humble nature of these stories doesn’t merit space. Because it doesn’t have that “wow” factor. It doesn’t follow the formula of the inspirational story.

I thought a long while before writing this. I have no intention of behaving like a narcissist telling a story about myself that isn’t very interesting. My mother’s approach to illness was to retire to her room, deal with her awfulness and emerge only when she was again worthy of company. Illness can be boring from those not suffering and often should be a private thing. The idea that anyone else should find your illness interesting enough to read through a long rant on it, speaks much about your sense of importance.

And yet, I have decided to rip off the veil of my privacy. I will risk accusations of egotism and write this story. I write this story, my own story, because it is the story of many others who are also struggling. And, in my decades of work as a psychologist I have come to realize that many struggles are difficult not because the ascent to victory is steep. But rather, the climb is perpetual and the only victory will be when we depart this world and are able to say to ourselves, “I did my best and never gave up.”

Disability

I am a life-long asthmatic. My parents tell me I had my fist attack when I was two months old. Much of my early memories involve memories of asthma attacks. Sitting up sleepless and unable to breathe. Waking up to see my parents crushing tablets and putting the powder into capsules because when I was growing up there were no liquid formulas. They needed all sorts of tricks to get me to even swallow those capsules. Mainly my mother would put the capsule in a wedge of banana or teaspoon of apple jelly so I could swallow it. To this day I won’t eat an apple or a banana.

Until I was in Grade 5, I was the skinny, pasty-skinned and completely uncoordinated kid. What would you expect of someone who had to stay indoors a lot and would go for days without eating during her attacks? I remember my yaya yanking me away from playmates whenever the wind would come up and blow dust into the air. Sometimes her precautions worked, sometimes they did not. I missed days and days of school.

Things changed  when I was put on steroids. That controlled the asthma better. From then on, because of the effects of steroids on appetite, I became the pasty-skinned, uncoordinated, fat kid. It’s hard to have a disability.

Prejudice

Yes, disability. The deaf, mute, blind, lame. The depressed person, the person with attention deficit disorder, the person with Asperger’s syndrome, and so many others. Because we suffer from a disability people, and because society can be so judgmental of anyone who doesn’t seem to measure up – we often get treated harshly. They do call us all sorts of names or name our disability as a form of insult.

Sometimes it's easier to deal with the outright bigots. In my case my weight does not make me invisible. So when someone says, “Ang taba mo ngayon (You’re so fat these days)," I have a series of answers including, “Ang pangit ng gupit mo.” (You have a bad haircut).

But what do I say to people who assume that I don’t get enough exercise which is why I am so big, uncoordinated, and wheeze when climbing the shortest flight of stairs? Challenge them to the swimming pool? Those who know understand that asthmatics are made to swim to strengthen their lungs. And I have swum all my life. I have a lapping pool at home.  In between other forms of exercise like running or lifting weights or functional fitness classes, I swim. I am good at swimming. I shift to other exercises because when I reach the point of doing so many laps, I get bored.

During the asthma-free periods I get better at whatever type of exercise I am doing. I also lose a little weight. But when I have a bad attack and I have to go back on steroids, I get knocked down for some time. “Some time” depends on the severity of the asthma and also on my increasing age. Lately it takes so much longer to recover and so much longer to get back to exercise.

A year ago I got hospitalized (again). My body had decided to throw me a new curve ball. My severe asthma brought heart palpitations. I stopped the really strenuous exercise program I was doing. I was on high-dose steroids yet again. I gained weight and because I was sedentary, gained more weight, and because I was so heavy, had more attacks.

After months of depression over my (not) new-found state of ill health, I began walking again. The first time I walked, I thought I would die. It was miserable. Slowly, I became more comfortable. Over several weeks, I began to walk a little farther each day. I reached the point where I could tire out a one-year-old.

But the asthma has leveled up now. So it seems like every time I gain a little, it comes roaring back. Like others, my disability has become so much a part of me already that I look at it as a sparring partner. We are in our 100^th round and it is getting stronger. Silly sparring partner, doesn’t realize that when it finally knocks me out it will pass too.

Silver lining

Yet I am not ungrateful for my disability. It has taught me many things. Pluck, hard-headedness, determination. These things are not difficult when you need to muster them to function. Sensitivity, empathy, and compassion. Again, not difficult when you know how precious it is to be at the receiving end.

My being alone has never been a problem. I have spent so many days in my sick bed alone. I discovered books and music this way. Books and music have kept me happy through the hardest of times.

My disability has led me to a new academic field called “fat studies” and a new social movement, “the body acceptance” movement. It has led me to understand that all our prejudices about fat people are just that – prejudices. It has also made it so easy for me to grasp with my heart what the call for more enabling environments means.

My disability has led me to learn to accept how life can be arbitrary. There are many things I can be grateful for and there are many things I have to just accept and overcome.

It has led me to understand how each one suffering a disability is dealing with his or her own personal world of small and temporary triumphs over a foe that will not be defeated. And yet, those of us who survive do so because we laugh in the enemy’s face and laugh at our fate. Or perhaps, even better, we laugh along with whoever or whatever brought us our fate.

It has also led me to this point where I have decided to open up about my own personal struggles because, while we are all so unique, we are also so much the same. There are more of us who are disabled in ways we may not be able to overcome. Many of the blind, the mute, and the deaf will never be able to find a “cure”. I have come to realize, too, that many of them don't want to be cured. They, like me, have accepted things and wish only for a world that is more enabling. And we shall fight for that world.

Never give up

I have begun walking again. Not dramatic. I have made the decision to try so many times before. And just because it gets more and more tempting to quit, doesn’t make the decision to fight any more dramatic. And for those who are out there who are wondering for themselves whether they should try or just quit, try!

Do not be disheartened. Never give up. Maybe there is no happy ending for folks like us. We will struggle all our life. We can only hope it gets easier but maybe it won’t. Yet the best quests are like that. Continuous and interminable, but not without its triumphs, no matter how temporary.

But here is the trick, life is still worth living. I mean, really. Admit it. You have had fine times too – you and your disability. We may never be called “normal”, but for me, normal would be boring. – Rappler.com

Sylvia Estrada Claudio is a doctor of medicine who also holds a PhD in psychology. She wrote this on Easter Sunday when she joined all her Christian friends in contemplation of new beginnings.

When Maria Lourdes Sereno applied to join the Supreme Court in 2010, she submitted a single Statement of Assets, Liabilities and Net Worth or SALN: that of 2006. The Judicial and Bar Council (JBC) certified this in a December 2017 letter to Reynaldo Umali, chair of the House committee on justice, that had initiated an impeachment process against the Chief Justice. 2006 was the year Sereno left the University of the Philippines College of Law where she was professor for almost 20 years.

In 2010, the JBC, which vets candidates to the judiciary, did not require candidates for associate justice to submit their complete assets statements. It was only after former chief justice Renato Corona was convicted in May 2012 by the Senate that the JBC revved up and imposed a new requirement: applicants for the newly vacated post of chief justice, those in government, should present all past SALNs. In addition, the JBC asked for a bank waiver so that it could check out their local and foreign accounts, if necessary.

Remember that the impeachment trial of Corona became a national educational campaign on the importance of SALNs. In a historic moment – the first since 1989, when the Supreme Court exempted the judiciary from disclosing the justices’ and judges’ SALNS – Corona’s assets statements during his years on the Court were made public.

Through the SALNs, a whole new world opened up to reveal a shocking fact: the chief justice, who leads the branch of government considered the last arbiter, was enjoying wealth which was clearly beyond his means.

Thus, the SALN suddenly became the focus of attention, a vital tool in uncovering corruption and boosting transparency. The JBC responded to the momentum unleashed by the impeachment through its new rule.

‘Substantial compliance’

The trouble was, the JBC didn’t follow it. Instead, it opted for “substantial compliance” but it did not define precisely what this meant. Minutes of the JBC meeting in July 2012, before it was to shortlist candidates, showed that it was Senator Francis Escudero who first brought up the idea – he represented the Senate in the JBC – after which his colleagues picked it up and used it loosely. They agreed to classify who among the candidates had “substantially complied.”

No one asked how many years of SALNs would fall within “substantial compliance.” In the case of Sereno, for example, would 3 years of SALNs constitute “substantial compliance”? That was left undecided and instead was tossed to the executive committee of the JBC after giving some time for candidates to submit the rest of the SALNs. [The executive committee is composed of the 4 full-time regular members. They represent the private sector, legal academe, the Integrated Bar of the Philippines (IBP), and retired Supreme Court justices.]

Where then did the information – that past SALNs of 10 years constituted “substantial compliance” – come from? Apparently, some in the JBC were guided by Republic Act 6713 or the Code of Conduct and Ethical Standards for Public Officials/Employees, which provides in section 8 (on filing of SALNs and disclosure), article 4, that:

Any statement filed under this Act shall be available to the public for a period of ten (10) years after receipt of the statement. After such period, the statement may be destroyed unless needed in an ongoing investigation.

Milagros Fernan-Cayosa, who represents the IBP, recalls: “This was one instance where all the steps of the JBC processes were taken by the JBC en banc [meaning the entire JBC to include the ex-officio chair and members]. While the determination of compliance was supposed to be by the Execom [executive committee], it was actually done by the JBC en banc just before the [public] interviews since we had limited time…All the members were made aware through the July 20 and 24, 2012 reports who among the aspirants submitted what. There was no Execom meeting for the CJ process.”

Abolish JBC?

So there, a loose vetting process. The JBC is part of the problem.

As former president Aquino, who picked Sereno to be chief justice, recently told reporters, in Filipino, “The JBC should be the one to answer that [why Sereno qualified to be in the shortlist despite not filing SALNs] because when they gave me the list, being on the list means they’re qualified as chief justice nominees.” 

There have been a number of suggestions to improve the selection process of judges and justices. Recently, the PDP-Laban, among its amendments to the Constitution, proposed the abolition of the JBC. Instead the IBP replaces it and the Senate approves the shortlists – from which the president makes the appointments.

Congress wants to retain the JBC except for the change that the Senate and House of Representatives each get a representative. As of now, the Senate and House justice committee chairmen rotate membership in the JBC, having only one vote, as decided by the Supreme Court.

The JBC has not been insulated from the politics of the day. Angelina Gutierrez, former representative of retired Supreme Court justices in the JBC, candidly spoke about the foremost challenge facing the JBC: it is “vulnerable to partisan politics.”

In a speech before the IBP in 2015, she said that the JBC is composed of people who could be influenced by the president: “The secretary of justice is his alter ego…the representative from Congress may belong to his political party.” The president also appoints the chief justice, who heads the JBC, and the 4 regular members.

It therefore takes independent and courageous members to keep the JBC faithful to its task – as well as a vigilant public. – Rappler.com 

Duterte’s tax reform law called TRAIN has so many moving parts – and affects so many aspects of our economic lives – that it’s hard to grasp how it will ultimately affect us and our incomes, both in the short run and the long run.

In this article we use data to dissect TRAIN, explore its likely impacts, and determine who among Filipinos will pay for them the most.

We will give special focus to the plight of the poor, and explain why the aid they will receive to cope with TRAIN is likely to be inadequate and delayed. 

TRAIN’s impact

Contrary to common perception, a lot of detailed economic analyses actually went into TRAIN from start to finish. Most of it was conducted by a vibrant team of young economists at the Department of Finance (DOF).

For me, the most interesting piece of their analysis is a table estimating the 2018 impact of TRAIN on different income groups. (The latest version of this table – based on the final version of the law – can be found on slide 67 of this presentation from the DOF website.)

The economic models that churned out these estimates, no matter how complex, are imperfect and dependent on a number of assumptions, not all of which may be entirely realistic. Still, these numbers give us a reasonable first approximation of TRAIN’s impacts.

I’ll summarize the findings using graphs.

The orange bars in Figure 1 show that TRAIN will raise most Filipinos’ incomes in 2018: by as little as 0.3% (for the near poor) to as much as 7.3% (for the middle class).

At the same time, however, TRAIN will reduce the incomes of the 3 poorest income groups (poor and subsistence poor) and more so the incomes of the super rich (like top taxpayers).

Figure 1.

Because TRAIN aims to make the tax system fairer (more “progressive”), lower incomes for the super rich is okay.

But lower incomes for millions of poor Filipinos is unconscionable. TRAIN’s proponents knew about this all along, and made sure to earmark part of TRAIN’s revenues for cash transfers that could help tide them over. Without such aid, the poor will certainly hurt from TRAIN (more on this later).

Dissecting the impact

How come TRAIN will increase most Filipinos’ incomes, but not the incomes of the poor and the super rich? We can further parse TRAIN’s impacts in 3 ways.

First, TRAIN cuts personal income taxes for a large swath of the population. Figure 2 shows that, the richer you are, the higher your extra take-home pay after income taxes.

The middle class stands to benefit from this the most (an extra 8.6% of their annual income) while the poorest will benefit the least (a paltry 0.1% bonus). In contrast, the super rich suffer a sizable reduction in their take-home pay, to the tune of 7.3% to 9.2%.

Figure 2.

Second, to compensate for lost revenues, TRAIN also imposes excise taxes on goods like sugar-sweetened beverages, automobiles, and petroleum products.

Estimates suggest that these would reduce everyone’s incomes (Figure 3). But the reductions are especially large for the well-off (executives, professionals, middle class, and the super rich), albeit not exceeding 1% of their annual incomes.

This is partly explained by the fact that the richest tenth of the population tend to consume more than half of all petroleum products.

Figure 3.

Third, TRAIN’s excise taxes also hasten the rise of prices (that is, increase inflation). Figure 4 shows that this will also reduce everyone’s incomes, but the negative impact on the incomes of the poor is about as much as thrice the impact on the super rich.

Note that Figures 3 and 4 show how TRAIN affects different segments of society differently: whereas higher excise taxes harm the rich more, higher inflation harms the poor more.

Figure 4.

Palliative measures

All in all, when you combine TRAIN’s impacts on personal income taxes, excise taxes, VAT, and inflation, the poor come out as worse-off (at least in the short run).

Government knew this at the outset. That is why TRAIN allocates at most 30% of its revenues to palliative measures that can help tide over specific sectors that TRAIN will hurt. These include:

• Unconditional cash transfers for 10 million poor households
• Fuel vouchers for jeepney franchise holders
• Subsidies for workers in the sugar industry (likely due to the excise tax on sugar-sweetened beverages)
• Discounts on PUVs, NFA rice, and TESDA training for minimum wage earners, the unemployed, and the poorest half of the population

Government expects that these transfers will more than offset the impact of higher inflation on the poor (see the blue bars in Figure 1). 

Yet there’s now reason to believe that such aid – especially the unconditional cash transfers – will be insufficient and delayed.

Insufficient?

First, the transfers will likely be insufficient because they are fixed by law – P200 per month per poor family in 2018, and P300 per month in 2019 and 2020.

This means, for example, that all poor families will get the same amount regardless of the number of their children.

Official estimates of TRAIN’s impacts were calculated assuming a family of 5 (that is, 3 children). But Dean Dennis Mapa of the UP School of Statistics correctly pointed out that the very poor tend to have more children than that. Will P2,400 per year be enough to tide over poor families of all sizes, preferences, and locations?

In addition, Figure 5 shows that the inflation rate for March was recorded at 4.8% (using the 2006 base year), and is now beyond the Bangko Sentral’s 2018 inflation target of 4%.

Figure 5.

Although government expected this, Dean Mapa also pointed out that the poorest 30% of households might experience higher inflation rates than the rest of the country owing to the larger share of their budgets going to food (now affected by TRAIN’s new excise taxes).

Despite all these sources of higher inflation, the lump sum going to the poor is stubbornly pegged at just P200 per poor family per month. Why did it have to be so fixed in the law?

Delayed?

Meanwhile, immense logistical nightmares impede the timely delivery of the unconditional cash transfers.

The Department of Social Work and Development (DSWD) has a database of the poor called Listahanan, from which the beneficiaries of the government’s conditional cash transfer program, 4Ps (Pantawid Pamilya), are selected.

TRAIN aims to help 10 million households, including the 4.4 million families under 4Ps. This leaves 5.6 million households to be picked from Listahanan.

But in the coming months the DSWD still needs to validate if those millions of households are really poor. For this, DSWD needs to hire thousands of staff nationwide to reach out to these potential beneficiaries. In addition, the DSWD still needs to enroll them into bank accounts through which the money will be sent.

Can the DSWD do all these before the October 2018 election ban? Reports indicate that, due to logistical troubles, a whopping 26% of beneficiaries (or 2.6 million households) will not receive aid for TRAIN until June or August 2018.

This presents a problem. Higher inflation is happening right now, and those 2.6 million poor households are no less deserving of help than those already included in existing social welfare programs. Yet their aid is several months delayed. In the meantime, how will they cope from TRAIN?

Wrong timing?

With world oil prices at a 3-year high and the peso at an 11-year low, higher inflation due to tax reform is a surefire way to hurt the incomes of the poor and erode their purchasing power. One wonders: is this really the best time for TRAIN?

One can only hope that the world price of oil stabilizes, the peso avoids a freefall, and the DSWD irons out the logistics of its transfers soon enough. The removal of quotas on rice importation could also help abate inflation. The Bangko Sentral is also hinting it might finally step in.

Doubtless TRAIN is a necessary first step to correct the many problems ailing our tax system. And I appreciate the fact that the government foresaw that it would hurt the poor in the short run. 

But in the mad rush to get TRAIN going, government may have inadvertently trampled on and railroaded the poor.

With all the other government policies already besetting the poor (notably Duterte’s senseless war on drugs), you can’t really blame the poor for seeing TRAIN as just another burden in their lives. – Rappler.com

The author is a PhD candidate and teaching fellow at the UP School of Economics. His views are independent of the views of his affiliations. Follow JC on Twitter: @jcpunongbayan.

On Monday evening, April 2, more than a hundred leaders of organizations protesting against the excesses of the Duterte regime came together agreeing to forge a united front. It was an impressive response to a first and quickly mounted effort to collect in one place, at the same time, and for a common purpose representatives of groups that, for all sorts of reasons and excuses, including internicine ones, had acted on their own, although sometimes with certain other groups, but never all together.

I myself, with my wife, attended the occasion, but not to represent any group. While we may have joined more protest rallies than many others have, we don't really belong in any of those groups, not exclusively, anyway, as they may have jealously preferred.  

In fact, we signed up with all groups that came enlisting for causes that resonated with us. Two – Movement Against Tyranny (MAT) and Tindig Pilipinas– were among the ones that would not be caught protesting alongside each other even if they were protesting against essentially the same thing. 

But what righteous reason is there to justify any reluctance to stand up against tyranny, which both groups advocate, yet wouldn't do so actively together?  

Soon enough after signing up with with MAT and Tindig – and others, too – we found out that our septuagenarian knees, a generation older since the 1986 people power vigil against Ferdinand Marcos, had been over-enlisted, overexerted, having to drag us to rallies of which a good number were superfluous and could have been merged and thus made bigger and impactful. A case is the separate commemorations of that precicse vigil organized by MAT and Tindig for this year, in Februrary. Both were set around the same spot of EDSA, which, being the original historic setting, is difficult to escape; but they were held a day apart, a variant that does not really deviate from the original vigil since it happened over four days, a ready though flimsy excuse for the separation. 

At a MAT meeting, I raised the probability that I was typical of my generation of protesters and asked for some considerateness, but I did so mainly to segue into larger questions: Why the divisions between us when one fight clearly overtops all others? Is there any doubt our nation has begun its descent into authoritarianism? 

What manifestation yet is needed? 

People go to prison on trumped-up charges or get executed on summary or arbitrary judgments, while others get away with murder, not to mention other crimes. Freedom is curtailed for the critical legitimate press, yet generously expanded into license for the friendly media, including pseudos like bloggers and trolls. Territorial sovereignty is surrendered to a modern-day colonial patron, and the nation's future is also being hocked to it. 

Meanwhile, oversight institutions, notably Congress and the Supreme Court, allow themselves to be coopted into the Duterte regime in an arrangement that transforms coequality into conspiracy. 

Undeniably, the fight on our hands is the ultimate one – for freedom and justice, indeed for democracy. It in fact began once Duterte took office less than two years ago, and he has since been warning us, repeatedly, expressly, that martial law or revolutionary government or some form of dictatorship or other is what we deserve. That he has not imposed anything of the sort officially does not mean he's backing off; he simply finds no need for an edict to get his way. 

That's how far we've been set back from democracy, and we can only guess how much we've contributed to that setback by default. That's why coming together as we did on that one recent evening felt like the beginning of self-redemption. 

Of course, coming together is one thing, working and fighting together, another. – Rappler.com

On April 2, 2018, the manual recount of the vice presidential votes officially started. The exercise will initially revisit all the physical ballots from Bongbong Marcos' 3 pilot provinces: Camarines Sur, Iloilo, and Negros Oriental.

The results of the manual recount in these 3 provinces is crucial to both parties. It will determine if the protest will be dismissed (when no substantial recoveries are made) or if the protest will proceed (to recount the remaining protested 19 provinces and 5 cities). This will also determine whether Marcos’ 3rd cause of action seeking the wholesale annulment of the election results in the provinces of Lanao del Sur, Basilan, and Maguindanao will be entertained by the Presidential Electoral Tribunal (PET).

Despite the existing gag order by the PET, Marcos braved the Supreme Court premises with a throng of supporters and held a press conference, this time alleging new matters which need to be refuted. It must be recalled that previously, Marcos claimed in another press conference that squares and ovals on the ballot images are his “shocking” evidence of “massive election cheating.” This however quickly fizzled after those squares and ovals turned out to be just the new features of the brand-new vote counting machines (VCM). (READ: What Bongbong Marcos should understand about ballot images)

Thereafter, Marcos, along with Senator Tito Sotto, made an issue out of premature transmission activities, which turned out to be just some isolated cases of belated Final Testing and Sealing (FTS) activities. (READ: Debunking Sotto's election fraud claims)

Audit logs can be requested from Comelec

Facing the reporters in April, Marcos this time raised that 39 out of 40 clustered precincts in the municipality of Bato, Camarines Sur, the first to be opened in the PET recount, had no “audit logs.”  

The “precinct audit log report” is one of the many security features of the VCM. It is a chronological record of all the activities of the VCMs. It records anything that happens with the VCMs, indicating what happened and when it happened. The audit log records the time when the VCM was turned on, the exact times when ballots were fed to it, instances where ballots were rejected; when the transmission took place; and when was the VCM was turned off, among others.

Insinuating fraud on the part of the Vice President, who hails from Camarines Sur, Marcos said: “Bakit walang audit log? Ibig sabihin binuksan 'yung ballot boxes, kinuha 'yung audit log. At hindi namin makita.” (Why were there no audit logs? That means the ballot boxes were opened, and the audit logs were taken. And we can't find them.)

In another statement he reiterated: “Clearly, somebody, binuksan ang ballot box, kinuha ang audit log bago ini-seal ulit.” (Clearly, somebody opened the ballot box, got the audit log, and sealed [the box] again.)

Like his earlier allegations, Marcos missed the fact that audit logs are not placed inside the ballot boxes, but are actually turned over by the Boards of Election Inspectors (BEI) to the Election Officer (EO) concerned.

Article VII, Section 29 (f) 5 of Resolution Number 10057 (February 11, 2016) or Commission on Elections’ “General Instructions for the Boards of Election Inspectors (BEI)” provides that: 

Sec. 29. Disposition of VCM, ballot boxes, election returns and other documents. – When the counting of votes has ended and the results of the election in the precinct have already been announced, the BEI shall: 

xxxxxxxxx 

f) Deliver to the EO the following documents or papers:

xxxxxxxxx 

5. Envelope containing Initialization Report, Precinct Audit Log Report and Precinct Statistical Report.” 

So there is nothing anomalous about not finding audit logs inside the ballot boxes as they are not supposed to be there in the first place. Obviously, Mr Marcos and his lawyers did not read the Comelec's general instructions and pertinent voting rules before making such accusations. 

However, should Mr Marcos be interested in procuring copies of the audit logs, the Comelec has soft copies of the audits logs of all the 90,000 clustered precincts. He can request for them anytime. But he will definitely not find them inside the ballot boxes. 

Ballot boxes: Poor design, poor storage 

Aside from his audit logs allegations, he also made accusations regarding the wet ballots. He said that ballots from 4 of the total 42 voting precincts from Bato, Camarines Sur, whose boxes were opened last April 2 were discovered to have gotten wet.

Marcos said: “They've only been recently wet. If they were wet during election day, siguro natuyo na iyun. Hindi naman siguro two years na basa iyun. May nagbasa.” (They've only been recently wet. If they were wet during election day, they should've been dry by now. They could not have been wet for two years. Somebody drenched them.)

Marcos have been claiming that the wet ballots were evidence of post-election tampering. This, however, is so 1992.  

We have to understand that after elections the ballot boxes and their contents are placed under the care and custody of the municipal or city treasurers. Under the Omnibus Election Code, these local officials  are obliged to provide safe and secure storage space for the ballot boxes. While this is the case in cities and big municipalities, the reality in most places, especially in far-flung municipalities, is different. With very poor local government facilities, ballot boxes sometimes end up poorly stored. I have seen terrible cases of leaking roof which flooded the storage area and wetting the boxes, some were simply dumped in alleys or stored in gyms or basketball courts, exposed to the elements. 

This space problem is compounded by what I think is a poor design of the ballot boxes. They are simply too big and occupy so much space, when in fact only between 1/8 to  1/4 of the ballot boxes’ space is occupied by the ballots and election paraphernalia.  It also has a narrower arching bottom, instead of a flat bottom, which makes them problematic to stack on top of each other, and unstable at that.

The lid cover is also too slim, without a locking mechanism, except for that side holes for the seals. Definitely, water-sealing or waterproofing them, as we now know, is another matter that can be addressed by better design. Now, weather-sealing and tamper-proofing the ballot boxes are crudely done and compensated by masking tapes, which is not the most effective protection. In other words, as much as we think that transparency and efficiency on election day, Comelec should equally consider the post-election storage of these ballot boxes. 

Wet ballots have other copies 

Going back to Marcos, wet ballots could only mean wet ballots – that water made it inside the ballot boxes by sheer accident or by acts of God. There are people, including Marcos, that have been claiming they were a sign of cheating. But haven’t anyone asked wetting the ballots after elections can either shave or pad a candidate's votes – because that's what cheating is.

Some would argue that wetting the ballots is done to cover up for the cheating during the May 2016 elections. This could have been a valid theory if we are still using a manual election system, where the sole and primary evidence of the votes are the physical paper ballots. The moment the physical ballots are lost by wetting, burning or stealing them, there is no way of recounting them. The only remaining option is to resort to secondary evidence, like the election returns (ERs) which contain the totaled precinct votes. This however is problematic as the numbers in the ERs could be not reliable and there is also no way to countercheck them using the source or base documents – the ballots themselves. 

This theory loses its sense under the automated election system. Now, every time a ballot is fed, the VCM makes a scanned copy of it. The ballot images are encrypted and stored in two SD cards: the primary and the backup. After elections, these are sent to Comelec main office in Intramuros for storage, backed-up again and stored in the vaults of the Comelec. To convert the ballot image files into viewable photo files (jpeg), they first have to be decrypted using a special program that will require security clearances. Given their reliability, the printouts of the ballot images are not just treated as functional equivalent of the paper ballots, but accorded reliability not just equal, but even higher, than the physical ballots.

In other words, even if ballots are lost by wetting, burning, stealing, or tampering, the parties can always resort to the printout of ballot images to be used in the recount. This is the procedure not just in the PET but in the Comelec, House of Representatives Electoral Tribunal (HRET), Senate Electoral Tribunal (SET), and even in regional trial courts (RTCs).  Lawyers, parties, and litigants since 2010 have all been resorting to ballot images in these cases. It must be recalled that Marcos himself has requested early on to get ballot images of Camarines Sur, Iloilo, and Negros Oriental, his pilot provinces.  

Undermining the election system

Even if we disregard these technicalities and go by sheer logic, there are many details in Marcos' allegations that do not add up. First, Camarines Sur is the Vice President Robredo's bailiwick of bailiwicks, so why should she cheat there? Shouldn’t she be cheating, assuming she did, in places where she expects not to get votes?

Second, the numbers. If wetting the ballots were the chosen method to cheat or to cover up an election day cheating, why do it in only select ballot boxes? Why not all or at in a substantial number? Elections is a numbers game. In a national post where the votes involved ordinarily go by millions, piecemeal or selective cheating at the precinct level do not make any numerical impact or any logical sense. 

This systematic, well-coordinated and well-funded PR operation of Marcos and his team aims to cast doubt not just on the victory of the Vice President, but to attack the integrity of the automated elections. While everyone may see the protest as the immediate motive, this could very well be just the tip of the iceberg – part of the bigger public conditioning to discard the automated elections and return to manual elections in the 2019 and 2022 national elections, where both Imee and Bongbong Marcos have been openly and publicly positioning for.

Imee Marcos in her recent public statements have in fact been very vocal in pushing for the return to manual elections – an antiquated system that has been notorious for its vulnerability to cheating, vote padding, and shaving. 

In other words, to me, this whole Marcos electoral charade goes beyond the vice presidency or Leni Robredo. Its consequence will seep deep into the core of elections and down to the very essence of democracy. Every lie, fact-twisting, and misinformation systematically and relentlessly sowed by the Marcos camp is corrosive to the people’s faith in our electoral process and to our electoral institutions like Comelec.

As I would always say, election is all about the public’s trust towards it. Even the most secure automated election system would mean nothing without the people actually trusting it. It is that trust that makes us brave our polling places and line up to vote, believing that the votes we cast actually determine to whom the reins of governance are trusted. If we are conditioned and made to believe that these votes do not actually matter, then what is the point of voting? Or conducting elections?

I believe that Bongbong Marcos has ways of pursuing his search for truth or for answers as to why he lost the 2016 elections, but he does not have to go low and burn the whole house done. This is precisely the point of the PET recount and he better focus on his battle there, not before TV cameras or through his social media trolls. – Rappler.com 

Emil Marañon III is one of the election lawyers consulted by the camp of Vice President Leni Robredo, whose victory is being contested by former senator Ferdinand Marcos Jr. Marañon served as chief of staff of retired Comelec Chairman Sixto Brillantes Jr. He graduated from the SOAS, University of London, where he studied Human Rights, Conflict and Justice as a Chevening scholar. 

This week, we mark the national observance of the Philippine Veterans Week commemorating the 76th Araw ng Kagitingan (Day of Valor). As we celebrate the bravery and heroism of the Filipino and American troops who stood side by side resisting the Japanese forces, a question came up whether that turning point in the Pacific theater of World War II had an effect in the European side of the war. The diary of Joseph Goebbels offered an answer, with the Nazi propaganda chief proclaiming delight in the result and immediately incorporating the same in his anti-Semitic narrative.

It was the complete physical exhaustion of the troops that led to the Fall of Bataan on April 9, 1942. When the Japanese troops succeeded in enveloping the east flank of the Americans held by the II corps, it was the attempt to relieve it by the I corps that failed. This sums up the content of the communique sent by General Wainwright to the War Department that fateful day 76 years ago.

Following 5 days of "terrific" bombardment, as American newspapers described it, coupled with shortage of rations and ravages of disease, some 36,800 American and Filipino soldiers were reported trapped. Then Secretary of War Stimson in a press conference later stated that the brave defenders of Bataan will be avenged and that the fall was a temporary loss.

The news of the defeat of the Americans in the Pacific theater reached Europe and did not escape the attention of Dr Joseph Goebbels. Goebbels was the head of the Nazi Ministry for Public Enlightenment and Propaganda, the same man who fostered anti-Semitism and prepared the ground well for Adolf Hitler's war.

Entries in Goebbels' 1942 diary show the propaganda minister taking note of the fall of Bataan and quickly blaming MacArthur, and the Jews behind him, saying the "genius of the century" shall be unmasked completely by German propaganda. Goebbels, naturally, castigated the Jews for "inflating" MacArthur as a "great general" and appeared to rejoice in the news from Australia concerning MacArthur's jurisdiction.

Below are the entries on April 11, 13, 15, and 19, translated and edited by Louis Lochner:

April 11, 1942

A black day for the enemy. The Americans must admit they have evacuated Bataan. They now have nothing more to defend in the Philippines except Corregidor....

The whole United States is in turmoil. The halo they gave MacArthur is is fading. We are naturally going to seize upon this opportunity. This much overrated character, whom New York only a few days ago was still trying to sell as the outstanding genius of the century, will now be unmasked completely by our propaganda.

April 13, 1942

In the United States, they still haven't recovered from the heavy loss of equipment and prestige occasioned by the fall of Bataan. American pride and national sensitiveness received a heavy blow. The Jews acted prematurely when they inflated that movie hero MacArthur into a great general. You don't become a great general by letting members of the public wear your picture in their buttonholes – you have to achieve at least a couple of victories. MacArthur hardly seems able to produce one.

April 15, 1942

Almost no hopes are entertained for Corregidor. Even the Americans admit they can hold out for only a few days more. The situation there must be simply horrible. Meanwhile General MacArthur sits in Australia and issues fervent appeals to his troops – a thing that is possible only in America. We should by now be throwing stones at a general of that sort.

April 19, 1942

A merry fight has broken out in Australia about MacArthur's jurisdiction. The Americans would like to give him the supreme command without any strings attached, but the Australians don't seem very much inclined to approve.

While the fall of Bataan became a part of the Nazi narrative of its early triumph, the real victory belonged to the brave Filipinos and Americans who proved Stimson right that the loss was temporary by winning the war. Our veterans did more proving the Philippines is indeed a duyan ng magiting, sa manlulupig 'di pasisiil. – Rappler.com

Geronimo Suliguin is a historical studies postgraduate student at Oxford University. He earned his master's and bachelor's degrees, both in history, at the University of the Philippines in Diliman.  

Kaya mo bang mabuhay nang 6 na buwan na walang trabaho?

“Hindi.” Iisa ang sagot ng mga bangkero, masahista, tindero, at diving instructor sa Boracay na isang kahig, isang tuka sa hanap-buhay. 'Yan din ang sagot ng mga empleyado sa hotel at restawran na may pamilyang binubuhay at may mga anak na mag-aaral sa pasukan. Ito rin ang sagot ng maliliit na negosyanteng malulubog sa kumunoy ng utang dahil sa pagsasara ng Boracay.

Ano ang datos? Nitong 2017, lumikha ang Boracay ng 17,737 trabaho, pinakamalaki sa Western Visayas. Dalawang milyong turista ang dumagsa sa isla.

Tinatayang 20% ng turismo ng bansa ay nanggagaling sa Boracay. Hindi pa kwentado d’yan ang indirect traffic na dulot nito – ang mga nag-check-in muna sa Maynila bago lumipad papuntang Boracay, at nagdesisyon na ring mamasyal sa ibang bahagi ng Pilipinas.  

Abril 2018. 700,000 foreign bookings ang kanselado. 36,000 ang mawawalan ng pinagkakakitaan. 17,000 dito ang mga empleyadong direktang tatamaan. Maraming masisisante. Tumataginting na P56 bilyon ang kitang mawawala sa ekonomiya, ayon sa Boracay Chamber of Commerce.

'Cesspool'

Tinawag ni Pangulong Rodrigo Duterte na “cesspool” ang mala-paraisong Boracay, na nag-number 1 sa “Best Islands in the World” sa respetadong Conde Nast, kabilang sa “Best beaches around the world” ng CNN, at lagi nang inirerekomenda ng Lonely Planet.  

Mataas sa normal daw ang antas ng coliform sa tubig. Ang ugat ay 'di mahirap imbestigahan: nagmistulang poso negro ng mga establisimyento ang karagatan ng Boracay. 21 taon na ang problema ng paglalapastangan sa kalikasan dito mula pa ng panahon ni dating tourism secretary Mina Gabor sa ilalim ni dating pangulong Fidel Ramos.

Kaya’t gulpe de gulat ang sagot ng Pangulo, na 'di kailanman natakot sa kontrobersiya at lalong 'di umaatras sa mapapait na solusyon.

Ang mga arkitekto ng pagsasara

Pasok ang mga chuwariwap, ang chorus line, na mataas pa sa bodabil ang hagis ng binti sa ere. Ayon kay Wanda Teo ng Kagawaran ng Turismo, “limited” lang daw ang epekto ng pagsasara. Sabi naman ng National Economic and Development Authority o NEDA, minimal ang impact nito sa pambansang antas ng ekonomiya. Isama na ang Department of the Interior and Local Government na kasama sa nagbigay ng 6 na buwang timetable para sa “massive clean-up”. Hindi nga naayos ang airport sa loob ng dalawang dekada, Boracay pa? Lego blocks ba ang Boracay na mare-reassemble nang kalahating taon?  

Pero ang hindi natin malunok ay ang Department of Environment and Natural Resources (DENR) na isa sa tatlong ahensyang nagrekomenda ng closure. Sila sa DENR ang kakapit-bisig ng lokal na pamahalaan sa halos-zero enforcement ng environmental regulations. Buong tapang silang nagpapainterbyu at nagkakabuhol-buhol ang dila sa pag-iwas sa kapabayaaan at pagka-inutil.

Ang tanong ng mga negosyanteng nagbabayad ng tax at masusing sumusunod sa patakaran, bakit pati kami magdurusa? Tanong ng 36,000 na manggagawa na nagulantang sa lock-down: paano na kaming mahihirap? 

Nakamamatay na gamot?

Bakit ibinasura ng Malacañang ang panukalang “rehabilitation in phases”? Bakit hindi nakinig ang Pangulo sa mga ekonomistang diumano'y nakakabulong sa tenga niya? Tulad ng kalihim ng trade and industry na si Mon Lopez na nagpanukala ng yugto-yugtong paglilinis at si Ben Diokno ng budget department na nagsabing masyadong maaga ang closure.

Sa yugtong ito, 'di maiiwasang tanungin: alam ba ng gobyerno ang ginagawa nito? Sa bandang huli, pinaparusahan nito ang lahat para sa kasalanan ng ilan.

Ano ba ang good governance? ‘Di ba ito yung “least suffering in pursuit of the greater good”? Pinaka-konting perwisyo sa ikabubuti ng nakararami? Tulad ng Tokhang, wala na bang ibang solusyon kundi ang marahas at barubal? Pagsasara ba talaga ang sagot sa masalimuot na problemang maaaring yumanig hindi lang sa negosyo at pag-aari, kundi pati sa mga buhay at pangarap? HIndi ba talaga marunong ang administrasyong Duterte ng elegante at malumanay na solusyon?

Alam ba ni Wanda Teo na hindi lamang siya "yes woman" ng Pangulo at sa halip ay may tungkulin siyang huwag pabagsakin ang turismo sa probinsyang pangunahing nagtataguyod nito? 

Gambler's paradise?

Kaduda-duda ang timing ng pagsasara na sasabay sa pagtatayo ng higanteng eksklusibong casino. Isang casino na hindi titigil sa konstruksyon sa panahon ng closure at siyang tanging malinaw na panalo sa pagsasara. Magmimistula bang paraiso ng mayamang sugarol ang Boracay pagkatapos ng 6 na buwan? Mawawala na ba ang maliliit at budget-friendly na mga lugar? Mabubura na ba ang karakter nito na ikinatuwa ng dayuhan at kapwa-Pilipino?

Mula nang umugong ang balita, matagal ding nabitin ang mga taga-Boracay at ngayon lang nagkaroon ng malinaw na petsa ng pagsasara – hindi dalawang buwan mula ngayon kundi dalawang linggo. 

Bakit hindi ito gawin sa panahon na off-season, upang ang mga nakapag-book ay hindi na kailangang makansela? Bakit walang pakundangan sa mga parokyanong namimili ng destinasyon 6 na buwan o isang taon bago ang bakasyon? Paano na ang pangalan ng turismong Pilipino sa abroad na dati'y maaasahan at hindi sala sa init, sala sa lamig? Titingnan pa ba ang Pilipinas na premyadong destinasyon pagkatapos nito? 

Magkalinawan tayo, mainam at wasto lang na irehabilitate ang Boracay. At kung mabigyang lunas man ang polusyon sa karagatan ng Boracay – at 'yun ay malaking katanungan – magluluwal ba ito ng ibang krisis? Ilang taon o dekada ang setback sa turismo natin?

Ad hoc, knee-jerk

Ngayon pa lang, malinaw na ad hoc at knee-jerk lahat, at walang malinaw na plano sa Project Boracay Make-over.

May bilyones mang nakalaan para sa dole-outs, wala namang track record ang gobyerno sa mahusay na pagsalo sa mga tinamaan ng mga polisiya nito – tulad ng mga bakwit sa Marawi at ang mga pobre ng social welfare department na binibigyan ng P200 kada buwan bilang panangga sa tax reform o TRAIN law. 

Ilang negosyante ang malulugi at 'di na muling makakapagbukas? Ilang empleyado ang wala nang babalikang trabaho? 

Ayon sa labor and employment department, 5,000 trabaho lamang ang kaya nilang mahanap para sa mga magiging tambay. Paano na ang 31,000? Mangingibang-isla? Lalayo sa pamilya at mag-aabroad? O mamamalimos? Sa dinami-dami ng pighating dulot ng Boracay shutdown, ito ang pinakamalupit.

Habang tumatagal ang Presidenteng iniluklok ng masa, lalong lumilinaw na "casualty of war" sa kanya ang mahihirap. Tuwina na lang, ang dukha ang biktima ng Tokhang, ang biktima ng inflation, at ngayon, ng pagsasara ng Paraiso. – Rappler.com

In the Supreme Court decision of Allado v. Diokno, the SC pronounced that, “[t] he sovereign power has the inherent right to protect itself and its people from vicious acts which endanger the proper administration of justice; […] This is essential for its self-preservation[.]”

With such principle animating the Philippine criminal justice system, one must dare ask – at what price does self-preservation come?

The superficial answer to that query is: around P165 billion each year. Such figure, drawing from the yearly budget, is what Filipino taxpayers expend for the operations of government instrumentalities tasked with implementing the justice system. These agencies are the: Office of the Secretary, Department of Justice; Office of the Solicitor General; National Police Commission; the Philippine National Police; Bureau of Corrections; Bureau of Jail Management and Penology (BJMP); National Bureau of Investigation; Public Attorney’s Office; and Parole and Pardon Administration.

But P165 billion is a grave underestimation of the true price of administering the justice system; omitted in this accounting are the social costs borne by jail congestion.

Latest official figures, released by the BJMP around July 2017, show that 143,367 inmates are housed in 466 jails – facilities where only a total of 20,773 individuals can be accommodated. This means that where only one inmate should be confined, there are, in fact, 7 of them. Such figures should have been aggravated by now, considering that President Rodrigo Duterte has not called a ceasefire in his war on drugs and compounded, all the more, by the laggard pace of the judicial process.

These numbers produce negative consequences.

Prison overcrowding diminishes work productivity, thereby hindering economic growth. Without a doubt, human capital is a nation’s most vital resource; but every day spent behind bars is a foregone opportunity for able-bodied individuals to put in productive work.

Concededly, detainees are, for good measure, removed from society to secure others’ lives and property. Yet the same BJMP statistics show that around 97% of such detainees are actually awaiting trial, undergoing trial, or awaiting final judgment– individuals who, at least in the eyes of the law, are still considered innocent but for some reason or another, are unable to secure their provisional liberty; these are individuals who could be putting food on the table, but must instead endure the cramped spaces of the jails.

Lamentably, criminal procedure as presently crafted, subverts, rather than promotes, the right to secure provisional liberty. Such procedure is more a function of financial capacity rather than of other more pressing considerations such as flight risk, gravity of the crime charged, or the amount of evidence on record.

Moreover, jail overcrowding hurts work productivity by debilitating our human capital. Too many individuals crammed into one cell, having little to no ventilation, provided with dismal hygiene facilities, and fed with poor quality food spell health issues. One might wonder how authorities act with such perverse incentives – that is, whether it is more rational to provide inmates with medical treatment (and keep up the number of detainees) or let their sicknesses take over (and clear some “additional space” for incoming detainees).

Exacerbating physical deterioration are emotional and mental degradation – what with the seemingly endless days spent contemplating one’s uncertain fate; the abuse received at the hands of inhumane prison guards and co-inmates; or the emotional trauma of being separated from one’s family.

Sadly, BJMP statistics show that 94% of such detainees consist of individuals between the ages of 18 and 53, the age bracket which is the prime of one’s productive life. One wonders whether after enduring such prison ordeals, even if eventually acquitted, such individuals are still in full physical, mental, and emotional capacity to participate in society.

Jail congestion also saps the family, as a fundamental social unit, of its vitality. Constitutionally, the State vows to “protect and strengthen the family as a basic autonomous social institution” as well as to “strengthen its solidarity and actively promote its total development.”

And yet, authorities lock away numerous parents, unable to help their children with homework or inculcate in them important life lessons. One must obviate the social stigma that individuals accused of crime cannot make good parents. Marital intimacy is replaced by uncomfortably overlapping limbs, moist from sweat, and resting atop cardboard strips as makeshift mattresses. Moreover, we see Christmases being spent either at home, but with an absent family member, or complete, but in the squalid detention facilities.

Perniciously, overcrowding also impairs our Constitutionally enshrined liberties. Opening the Bill of Rights, “[n]o person shall be deprived of life, liberty, or property without due process of law,” and related thereto, “[i]n all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall be presumed innocent until the contrary is proved[.]”

More than serving as a procedural device, the presumption of innocence reflects the State’s attitude towards individuals accused of crime: that they stand in the same footing as persons who are, in truth and in fact, innocent. From this policy stance flows other related rights such as the right to bail, the right to counsel, the right to speedy trial, among others.

But jail overcrowding constitutes premature punishment since inmates, committed pending final judgment, are already subjected to unforgiving conditions. The only difference between imprisonment pre-conviction and post-conviction is a heap of paper called a final judgment. Even if they are eventually acquitted, they would have already lost a great deal of their life, liberty, or property – a huge chunk of their lives that they can no longer return to. As earlier adverted to, around 97% of detainees are rotting in jail even if they are still Constitutionally presumed innocent.

Factoring in the social costs of jail congestion, the price of criminal justice goes well beyond P165 billion – these are inestimable costs that no amount of pecuniary disbursement can ever recompense. Jails keep the possibly guilty away from society; but once the jail cells have emaciated every pound of the inmates’ flesh, stripped them away of their privacy and dignity, and broken their spirit, can we truly say that the criminal justice system has attained the goal of self-preservation?

What can be done to address these issues?

First, critical examination is necessary and advocacy groups play a pivotal role therefor. For instance, the Karapatan ng Komunidad sa Loob ng Selda (Kakosa), a fledgling organization formed by students of the UP College of Law, is a prison-service organization that seeks to inform and uphold the dignity and rights of prisoners.

The UP Sigma Rho Fraternity, Fujifilm, and the Integrated Bar of the Philippines will exhibit award-winning journalist Rick Rocamora’s documentary photography of detention centers. Such exhibit will run from April 9 to 13 at UP Diliman’s College of Arts and Sciences, and April 16 to 20 at the College of Law. Veteran lawyers from the Free Legal Assistance Group (FLAG) could lead discussions on their clients’ dispositions.

Second, after having gained understanding of the issues that plague detention centers, the public must engage the relevant government bodies. The public can urge the legislature to allocate spending for better jail facilities; the judicial branch can review its rules of criminal procedure to democratize bail and recognizance, as well as to widen procedural bottlenecks for more expedient trial; the executive, on the other hand, can hasten its review of pardons and paroles.

Ultimately, it is up to authorities to craft the proper policies that will address the above issues. The public must, however, remain vigilant and participative so that the government produces true and genuine reform.

This way, the criminal justice system can evolve into one that will be more solicitous of the conditions of detainees; one that will truly reflect the State’s policy of self-preservation. Because then, we would have maintained not only the physical, mental, and moral well-being of our inmates, but more importantly, we will have preserved our values as a nation. – Rappler.com

 Jose Maria Marella graduated Summa Cum Laude from UP School of Economics and is currently on his fourth year at the UP College of Law. 

The building was tucked away behind the main Quezon Avenue. It was drab and dingy, had no distinct markers. It was unmemorable unlike the sprawling structures that lined the main avenue. 

This was supposed to be the meetup place for a Pick Up Artist boot camp?!? I thought to myself. 

It was circa 2008 or 2009, my memory is fuzzy now. I was writing a sex column for a now defunct men’s magazine, and my editor assigned me to do a story about a group of guys who proclaimed themselves “pick up artists.”

I was expecting something more...debonair. 

Instead I found myself in a classroom full of maybe 30 to 50 young men listening with rapt attention.

I sat at the back and listened, too, but unlike the men in attendance who lapped up the “lessons” taking notes and asking questions, I felt growing incredulity and annoyance. The lectures used jargon and scientific-sounding terms like “neuro linguistic programming” to teach the boys how to talk to women, get them to give you their number and sleep with you. It sounded like twisted deceitful Jedi mind tricks.

The only other girl in the room was one of lecturers (she was supposed to give the woman’s point of view) and girlfriend of one of the organizers. She sat beside me at one point, and I no longer remember the exact conversation, but I asked her something along the lines of: “Is this stuff for real? C’mon, as a woman, you can’t believe that this stuff works, right?”

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and said something like: “’Pag tiningnan mo naman sila, hindi sila kaguwapuhan. Ito ’yung kailangan nila para ma-boost ’yung confidence nila.” (If you look at them, they aren’t that good-looking. They need this to boost their confidence.)

As it turns out, the facade of the nondescript building that served as their venue could stand in as a metaphor for the young men in attendance. 

I took a closer look at them and, though their backs were turned to me, I could see that most of them looked like they threw on the first ill-fitting shirt-and-jeans that presented itself to them. They were also suffering from the curse that befalls many straight men: they were wearing shoes that were worn down and dirty. Their shoulders drooped, they slouched in their chairs, even the soles of their shoes looked sad. Some needed a proper haircut and needed to be acquainted with the wonders of conditioner. 

These guys were hanging onto the boot camp promise that they could go from zero to stud hero by listening to “experts,” whose only advantage over them was their better hair, shoes, and clothes –superficial body armor that gave them a veneer of self-confidence.

“Can’t they just get a job?” I asked myself. A job with a promise of becoming a career would give them the purpose and confidence they needed. That would make them someone a woman would like to get to know. 

Social media scorn

Apparently, these pickup artists are still going strong. Before they were shut down, they had a social media presence that had more than 20,000 followers. Some eagerly shared field reports, annotations filled with graphic detail about how many women they got to sleep with them.

Apparently, their digs also got an upgrade. According to this link, they had a sold-out boot camp session in Boracay last January and have another one coming up in October, also in Boracay.

Sadly, the men can’t seem to step up their game. When this group of pickup artists and their duplicitous and unlawful exploits were exposed on Facebook, there were a barrage of comments to justify their existence. 

One guy said that pickup artist strategies are meant to level the playing field for men who didn’t get lucky with the genetic lottery or have the trappings of the social hierarchy like a car and money.  

That just sounds like a bitter, vengeful dude who wants to crawl out of the lowest levels of the social totem pole and get back at the world for all those years of being ignored by women and treated like a doormat. 

Game over

By now, we know that these pickup artists got their inspiration from Neil Strauss, who wrote the techniques they now spread as their gospel truth in the book The Game. Like these men, Strauss describes his younger self as someone with low self-confidence but high libido. As a teenager, Strauss says, he was obsessed with getting laid. He finally got at the age of 21, and, “not knowing when it would happen again,” stayed in a relationship with the girl for a few years. 

Strauss went on to become a music writer for Rolling Stone, discovered the ways of pickup artists, and enshrined words like “negging” and “peacocking” into dating lingo. His book turned into a dating bible for clueless socially-awkward men.

The Game became a bestseller and Strauss became rich by breeding men whose main accomplishment was shagging the most number of women in the least amount of time even if you don’t look like Tom Cruise’s thrice-removed cousin. 

I get it. It’s no fun to be invisible while all the other guys seemingly get all the girls. 

But I’ve got news for you, buddy. What was true circa 2008 is true today: get a job. 

That’ll give you the means to get a better haircut and better shoes. 

Make the neighborhood tailor your best bud. Clothes need not be expensive, but they need to fit well. 

Always look and smell like you just took a bath even if you didn’t. 

Build your credentials and make yourself someone with potential. 

Be kind. Learn to listen more than talk.  

Get NetFlix and binge watch the entire season of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy instead of wasting your money on pickup artist strategies. 

That makes you relationship material.

Sound like fluff that only nice guys would believe?

Think for a minute. 

Strauss pretty much disavowed everything he wrote in The Game, calling it a “shallow path of self esteem.”

“There’s nothing wrong with having lots of sex if you enjoy it, but there is something wrong with having a lot of sex and using it as a lie, as a band-aid for self-esteem, or to avoid emotions or intimacy,” said Strauss about the juvenile drivel that made him famous.

Strauss, now married and a father, wrote a book called The Truth. In it, he talks about the rarity of love. GQ called it his attempt at redemption.

Begrudingly, even Strauss admitted that a pickup artist boot camp can’t make a man go from zero to stud hero. It will only set them up for a life trajectory of becoming dirty old men who never die because they become a forlorn cliché that lives on forever in bar jokes and internet memes. – Rappler.com 

“He becomes the one real, true, and legitimate leader when he holds the one real, true, and legitimate source of information chenes chenes.”

Puwede ko namang pagbintangan na ang sikat na sikat na si Anonymous ang nagsabi ng pangungusap sa itaas. Pero, ang totoo, binuo ko lang ’yang quotation ngayon para sa espasyong ito. Parang maangas lang kasing basahin at pakinggan. Lalo na iyong “chenes chenes” part. Napaka-intelektuwal.

Sa totoo lang, mula pa noong panahon ni Lolo Alvin Toffler, maraming bersiyon na ng quotation na iyan ang sinabi na ng kung sino-sinong mapagpanggap na political and communication sages na nagkalat ngayon sa information trash bin that is social media.

Parang maganda lang simulan sa bogus quotation ang article. But, in essence, palagay ko, it holds true sa pamamahala at pamumuno sa kahit anong kolektiba: management of information is paramount.

Sa mas malakihang pagtanaw, kailangan naman kasing pamahalaan at pangasiwaan (to govern and to manage) ang lumalabas at sumisingaw na impormasyon buhat kung kanino. Kompanya man, pamahalaan, o indibidwal ang pinagmumulan ng impormasyon.

Ang pinakamalalaki at pinakamalalawak na ahensiya ng pamahalaan ay mayroong public information official o spokesperson. Every local government unit – from municipality to provincial government, as mandated by the Local Government Code – has a room or cubicle that is dedicated to the one person that lords over information and communication, sometimes even beyond the chief executive’s knowledge. Dahil sadyang mayroon pa rin kasi talagang chief executive na walang alam sa napasukan niyang trabaho.

Ang mga kompanya at negosyong may malawakang pakikitungo sa tao ay nagtatalaga rin ng malaking pera at pagod at oras para lamang sa kanilang corporate communications. Na, siyempre, mababawi rin naman nila ang lahat ng nagasta kapag kumita na ang korporasyon.

Kamakailan, isang regent ng nangungunang state university sa bansa ang naging sentro ng usapin hinggil sa komunikasyon. Nagalit kasi si regent sa pangungulit ng mga kumuha ng examination. Totoo naman kasing na-delay ang paglalabas ng resulta ng entrance examination. Pero, hayun, nagwala ang abogadong regent.

Ano ba naman ’yung sabihing huwag mainip sa paghihintay sa paglabas ng resulta ng pagsusulit, o bigyang-diin ang prayoridad sa papasukang kolehiyo kung hindi makapaghihintay na pumasa (o bumagsak, dahil ito ang mas malaking posibilidad)? Ano ba naman ’yung sabihin nang mahinahon na maghintay?

Besides, binayaran ang entrance exam. Hindi libre. Pero hindi. Mas masarap yatang piliin sa panahong ito na mam-bully at mang-insulto ng mga tao na malayo sa sirkulo ng kapangyarihan.

Madaling pangasiwaan noon ang impormasyon. Noong kontrolado ng opisyal o ahensiya kung paano lulunsad sa platform ang impormasyon: radyo, print, telebisyon, at, manaka-naka, internet. Ngayon, napakadaling sumingaw at magpasingaw. Isang naka-public na status, isang umaatikabong screenshot, hayun, viral. At hindi mo na kailangan ng “Taurine+DHA, brain vitamins for your child” para malaman itong communication principle lalo’t galing sa pinagpawisang buwis ng taumbayan ang suweldo mo. O kung pribadong sektor, sa tagatangkilik ka umaasa para sa produkto at serbisyo mo.

Speaking of “Taurine+DHA, brain vitamins for your child,” naging mainit na isyu rin sa social media natin kamakailan ang pagpapamukha ng isang kompanya ng bitaminang pampatalino (na no approved therapeutic claim, mind you) sa pamamagitan ng tanong na “Bakit maraming bobo?”

Maraming nag-init ang tuktok sa post na nagsasabing sa 10 bansa sa Timog-Silangang Asya, tayo ang nasa ibaba, ang may pinakamababang IQ, ayon sa isang research site na research.info.en/average-iq-by-country chenes chenes (napakaintelektuwal talaga ng dating ng chenes chenes).

Hindi mo naman kailangang maging rocket surgeon at brain scientist para isiping, well, ito ang ipinahihiwatig ng patalastas: kung ayaw mong maging bobo at para mataasan sa IQ ang ibang bansa sa Timog-Silangang Asya, eh di bumili ka ng bitamina sa utak. Doon nanggagaling – sa insecurity ng kahinaan ng kukote – ang patalastas. Kung ako nga naman ang magulang, na hindi sigurado sa kakayahan ng anak ko at may mahinang kukote to boot, bibili ako ng produkto. Huh. Brain vitamins yata ito. Singbisa ng mantekilyang pampatangkad.

Itong mga nagdaang pangyayaring ito sa virtual at mapagpanggap na mundo – na kung wala kang social media presence ay hindi mo malalaman – ang dahilan ng espasyong ito. Sana hindi mo alam ang tinutukoy ko. Pero dahil nababasa mo ngayon itong artikulo, na may malaking tsansang lumunsad sa social media news feed mo, malamang nabalitaan mo ang tinutukoy ko.

Hindi na madaling pangasiwaan ang impormasyon. Madali nang makawala, pero mahirap nang mabawi ang impormasyong hindi pinag-isipan kung paano lalabas sa madla. Kaya naman ang magaling na information gatekeeper ay mabisang tagasugpo rin ng information crisis (na kadalasan sila rin, ang kaniyang ahensiya at kompanya, ang may likha).

Ang isang magaling na makinarya ng komunikasyon ay isang magandang daan para maunawaan ang “real, true, and legitimate” na sentimyento at nararamdaman ng tao. Hindi iyong package deal na “Bakit maraming bobo?” statement. O iyong tinamaan-ng-magaling na tumawag na ingrato at iba pang unpublishable na terminong tanging sa pusali lamang dapat ginagamit. Excuse me, mali, mali. Sa pusali at sa Palasyo pala ginagamit.   

Pero narito na rin lang tayo sa paksa ng bulagsak na paraan ng pakikipag-ugnayan, tuloy-tuloyin na natin. Naniniwala akong sa kaunting information timing, tweaking, phrasing, and framing, makakaapekto na ito sa pananaw ng mamamayan. Lalo ngayon.

Hindi man magandang isipin, pero, di ba, nasusukat sa perception ng tao ang tagumpay o pagkabigo ng pamamahala? Ang tagumpay o pagkabigo sa pagtangkilik ng produkto o serbisyo? Sa survey nga, mutyang-mutya ang paniniwala sa perception.

At dito, sa pananaw na ito, nagtatagpo ang ibinabandera ng nagtitinda ng brain vitamins at ang pakikitungo ng opisyal ng pamahalaang naturingang regent ng nangungunang unibersidad sa bansa. 

Perception lamang muna ang lahat. Kung maglalabas ng impormasyon, puwedeng ilabas o pasingawin ito para magkaroon ng magandang perception. O puwede ring magmura o mang-insulto o kutyain na kesyo ang lahi natin ang may pinakamababang IQ sa rehiyon. Perception lang natin ito.

Perception lang ang lahat ng ito dahil hindi naman sinaliksik ng kompanya ang bawat isa sa kung ilampung milyong bata at kabataan sa bansa natin o sa buong Timog-Silangang Asya. Mula sa sampling, na sana ay balidong numero sa estadistika, nakabuo ang research.info.en/average-iq-by-country chenes chenes ng kongklusyon. Lowest IQ sa 10 bansa.

Kadalasan, nananaig ang perception kaysa pinanghahawakan nating katotohanan. Basta ang mahalaga, parang mayroong real, true, and legitimate source of information chenes chenes. Ano man ito. Sino man ito. – Rappler.com 

Bukod sa pagtuturo ng creative writing, pop culture, and research sa Unibersidad ng Santo Tomas, writing fellow din si Joselito D. De Los Reyes, PhD sa UST Center for Creative Writing and Literary Studies at research fellow sa UST Research Center for Culture, Arts and Humanities. Board Member siya ng Philippine Center of International PEN. Siya ang kasalukuyang tagapangulo ng Departamento ng Literatura ng UST.

Mark Zuckerberg says he doesn't believe Facebook is a monopoly.

At a US Senate hearing on Tuesday, April 10, Zuckerberg responded to Senator Lindsey Graham's question on this, saying, "It certainly doesn't feel like that to me."

His reasoning is that the average American uses 8 different apps to communicate with loved ones, and these include everything from applications to electronic mail.

I disagree when Zuckerberg says this, as Facebook's influence extends beyond just America, even if his discussion point was primarily for an American audience affected by a massive data privacy scandal.

Facebook concerns itself with the lives of over 2.2 billion people around the world, out of an estimated current global population of 7.6 billion people. 

Facebook grew, in part, because of the pressure people felt to be in touch with the world around them. There is an enormous pressure to be connected to people and to stay connected, as part of a digital divide between the technological haves and have-nots.

Facebook makes the choice simpler by providing a free, effective means of communication to connect people through its social network as well as its related acquisitions, such as WhatsApp and Instagram. 

By doing so, Facebook takes our time. It concerns itself with companies and businesses looking to gain influence and make money. It maintains our access to our friends and family, especially if distance is involved. It also affects how we feel, not only about the people we're connected to, but also how we feel about ourselves as we compare our lives to others.

Sadly, there is no other company that does anything quite like Facebook, which means its platitudes of policing its platform and of taking responsibility for its missteps are filled with hubris.

Facebook has no direct competition in social media spheres. It has edged out any potential competitors in its acquisition of our attention – whether it be Friendster or Mulitply or perhaps even Twitter and Snapchat – by either purchasing them and making them subsidiaries, or providing an alternative to our benefit that is simply better constructed, or at least better-funded.

To ignore or delete Facebook, while admirable, is like abandoning a useful tool that helps us as much as hurts us in the long run. As long as the people you love use Facebook, it's a hard choice to make to abandon the social media sphere, and that's a distressing thought.

Ultimately, Mark Zuckerberg says Facebook is not a monopoly.

It certainly doesn't feel like that to me. – Rappler.com

MANILA, Philippines – Are you paying attention to Cambridge Analytica? How about the data privacy issues that sprung in the wake of the scandal that got social media giant Facebook in trouble? 

Well, you should, because it has far-reaching implications on democracy. Reports reveal the political consulting firm used illegal means such as blackmail, entrapment, and recruiting women to seduce their targets. But its biggest sin by far is the improper use of data it got from Facebook that involved 87 million users, including accounts owned by Filipinos.

But wait, the story gets bigger, because evidence suggests it also operated in the Philippines.

Watch and learn, Thursday evening. – Rappler.com

MORE ON 'BASAGAN NG TRIP'

• On using the term 'Filipino'
• Is human rights relevant to Filipinos?
• Whom to trust – journalists or social media stars?
• What liberalism, LP, and yellow really mean 
• Is Islam violent?
• Why a depreciating Philippine peso might be a good thing
• What's the government's problem with ride-sharing companies?
• Ferdinand Marcos’ great ideas, bad executions
• Was Martial Law needed to defeat the communists?
• On 'The Duterte Reader' and identifying Digong
• On Filipinos' obsession with titles
• The case for a biased, honest media
• Is Duterte a dictator, a fascist, or a populist?
• 5 tips when writing in English
• 5 ways to shield yourself from fake news
• Why political participation matters
• Constitution 101 with Florin Hilbay
• Debunking myths on the origins of the Filipino
• 4 reasons why a liberal arts course is a good choice
• 5 times nationalism goes overboard

Many thought it impossible, yet here we are: Duterte is closing Boracay for 6 months starting April 26.

As I pointed out before, a number of glaring double standards surround this impending Boracay shutdown, including the arrival of substantial casino investments from China.

But perhaps most unconscionable of all is the yawning absence of a master plan for the Boracay shutdown – one that should have outlined the responsibilities and objectives of different government agencies, listed the new infrastructure projects in the pipeline, and provided contingency measures for the thousands of people whose jobs and livelihood will be lost.

As evidenced by his other major policies – notably the war on drugs – Duterte seems fond of executing policies without the benefit of concrete, coherent plans.

However, we cannot get used to this style of leadership, nor can Duterte get away with it: as the Boracay example illustrates, policymaking without planning makes for needless chaos, confusion, and destruction.

No master plan

Right before he left for China on April 9, Duterte admitted in a press conference that he has no master plan for his Boracay shutdown.

Given everything at stake, this is irresponsible policymaking to say the least. A group of Boracay stakeholders claimed, for example, that as many as 36,000 people risk losing their jobs, P56 billion in revenues could be lost, and 700,000 bookings are likely to be cancelled.

As compensation, Duterte is proposing to tap into the national calamity fund under the 2018 budget. But the amount, a paltry P2 billion, is obviously not enough to cover businesses’ lost revenues or workers’ lost incomes.

Such calamitous loss of economic activity could be justified, for example, by a convincing showing of the long-term benefits of rehabilitating Boracay Island.

But to this day, the Duterte government has yet to present or publish the detailed, concrete milestones against which progress and success in Boracay’s rehabilitation can be measured or evaluated.

To be fair, government did make some effort to estimate the economic impact of the Boracay shutdown. On April 3, the National Economic and Development Authority (NEDA) reported that the shutdown will likely reduce GDP (gross domestic product) by a “minimal” 0.1%.

But note that the joint recommendation to close Boracay – a one-page letter– was signed by the secretaries of the DOT, DILG, and DENR as early as March 22. Duterte also made his final decision on April 4 without waiting for NEDA’s study, which was transmitted to Malacañang just this week.

How could the policy come before the study that should have informed it? This is not unlike a doctor who prescribes drugs and treatment without the benefit of any diagnostic test. How much would you trust such a doctor?

In addition, despite NEDA’s prescription that the closure be done during the lean months, other agencies wanted the shutdown to occur as soon as possible, even before the “Laboracay” party on May 1, widely considered a high point in the Boracay calendar.

In government’s inexplicable haste to close Boracay, locals were also hardly consulted (if at all). Just watch the 8-minute documentary by videographer Jason Magbanua for proof.

All in all, the Boracay shutdown shows how not to do public policymaking. Technical studies, cost-benefit analyses, contingency plans, and thorough consultations should precede any major policy – especially one affecting so many people’s lives and properties – and not come later as an afterthought or appendix.

Chaos and confusion

Policymaking without planning has blanketed Boracay in utter chaos and confusion. It has also cast a pall on the island in an otherwise happy, sunny summer.

First, Duterte confirmed the island’s shutdown on April 4, a mere 22 days before the actual shutdown. Business owners, who plan out their calendars well in advance, are understandably at a loss on how to cope with such extremely short notice.

Said the Boracay Foundation Incorporated (BFI), the largest business group in the island, they are “just as confused as everyone else because the pronouncement came too soon, with no clear and specific guidelines presented to us.”

The more prudent policy here would be to allow a 6-month (even one-year) adjustment period. Instead, thousands of businesses – hotels, resorts, airlines, and other tourist services – now find themselves abruptly cancelling bookings left and right, and refunding thousands of their shocked, disappointed patrons.

Second, the shutdown has led to a flurry of confusing, contradictory, and even absurd statements which betray government officials’ lack of empathy for entrepreneurs, a poor understanding of basic economics, or both.

For example, one official of the Department of the Interior and Local Government (DILG) said that law-abiding resorts can still continue operating in Boracay, but DILG “will have a system where foreign and local tourists will not be allowed to enter the island. [Compliant resorts] can operate; they just won’t have guests.”

Labor secretary Silverstre Bello III, meanwhile, ordered business owners not to lay off their workers during the 6-month closure, and insisted that “no-work, no-pay” policies or forced leaves be implemented instead.

In economics, competitive firms follow strict rules whether to stay in a market or not. If a firm’s revenues plummet to zero because there are no customers around – so that it cannot even pay for its rent or equipment – then incurring negative economic profit may leave the firm with no choice but to exit the market altogether.

With the Boracay closure possibly extending beyond 6 months – akin to the open-endedness of the war on drugs – many firms might have to close shop irrespective of government’s wishful thinking that businesses continue their operations and retain their workers.

Finally, chaos and confusion is further evidenced by the lack of one voice among key Cabinet officials regarding Duterte’s overall Boracay policy.

Environment secretary Roy Cimatu, for one, denounced plans to build a megacasino in Boracay and admitted there’s a contradiction between that and the impending cleanup.

Tourism secretary Wanda Tulfo Teo, meanwhile, is now suggesting that the shutdown can last for just 3 to 4 months– instead of 6 – since they really can’t do much during the rainy months. If so, why did she have to sign the recommendation for a 6-month closure in the first place?

If anything, the lack of one voice on the Boracay issue betrays weak leadership on Duterte’s part. Judging by the way he controls his Cabinet’s actions and statements, Duterte looks like he’s just herding cats.

First, do no harm

This is not the first time Duterte has implemented a major policy without the benefit of study, data, or facts.

His senseless and internecine war on drugs, for example, has already killed tens of thousands of poor people even if based largely on bloated figures.

A deliberate disregard for evidence makes for fickle policies. For example, in the face of mounting public opposition, Duterte recently pulled punches on his Boracay stance: before he left for China, he feigned knowledge of the Chinese megacasino and said he’ll put the entire island on land reform instead (even if there are no farms there).

Remember that Duterte did something similar with his war on drugs: amid episodes of public outrage, he also had to stop “Oplan Tokhang” twice, but only to revive it later once public opinion had simmered.

We cannot allow the Duterte government to get used to (and get away with) routine policymaking without planning. Policies based on whim, caprice, and impulse – rather than facts, evidence, and analysis – is a surefire way to wreak havoc and uncertainty on Philippine society and economy.

At the very least, before they tinker with our lives and properties, government owes us a thorough explanation of their plans out of basic courtesy and respect (which seem to be short in supply these days).

It’s often said that the first rule of public policymaking should be “do no harm.” But based on the outcomes of Duterte’s many thoughtless policies – like the wanton economic disruption caused by the Boracay shutdown, or the tens of thousands of deaths resulting from the war on drugs – harm seems to be the one thing Dutertian policymaking is capable of doing. – Rappler.com

The author is a PhD candidate and teaching fellow at the UP School of Economics. His views are independent of the views of his affiliations. Thanks to Kevin Mandrilla for useful comments and suggestions. Follow JC on Twitter: @jcpunongbayan.

Publishing articles under your name, appearing in news reports, taking photos to be included in the event’s highlights, and gaining more followers on social media – these are come of the things I experienced during the Palarong Pambansa 2017 in Antique.

With all the exposure that comes with the Palaro Movers Program, getting the opportunity to gain this much recognition must, at first glance, seem like nothing but a dream come true.

Looking back, I realized that receiving intensive hands-on training from professional journalists is something that not every campus journalist gets to experience. Covering last year’s Palarong Pambansa alongside them was undoubtedly an adventure of a lifetime. Exposure, in retrospect, is such a trivial thing next to every lesson and experience I’ve gained throughout that journey.

I went to San Jose de Buenavista in Antique as one of the 4 campus journalists from Cagayan Valley Region to participate in the journalism program forged from MovePH and DepEd’s partnership.

I  was one of the 120 campus journalists and publication advisers who received 3 days of training on sports writing, photojournalism, video production, storytelling, and the use of social media. Nervous excitement filled me as I sat with the country’s best student journalists, some as young as 10 years old. Needless to say, I was intimidated beyond belief.

The #FacesOfPalaro was perhaps the most notable project we, Palaro Movers, were given even before the Palarong Pambansa started.

Inspired by Brandon Stanton’s Humans of New York, we were tasked to take pictures of athletes, coaches, or common townsfolk on the streets of Antique as we traveled to the different sports venues. Sharing these stories and photographs on social media helped drum up interest in the event, and prepared us journalists for field work as well.

Documenting all 5 days of the country’s biggest sports event for student-athletes was certainly not easy. I had to constantly push myself out of my comfort zone, starting from the event’s welcome parade, where I had to run while capturing photographs and videos of the different delegations as they marched through the streets of the provincial capital. The days only grew to be even more challenging as we had to commute to various parts of Antique to give the different sports as much coverage as possible.

Having been given the same privileges as any other professional journalist from whichever news organization, my companions and I had to adapt to their lifestyle as well.

A journalist’s lifestyle entailed a rigorous workload that required spending entire days under the heat of the sun, whether to take pictures or to list down facts and figures. It required rushing over to interview atheletes, coaches, sports officials, and other interesting personalities right after a game, as well as running to and from the media center to submit multiple stories per day. It required working until 10 pm on some days, despite knowing you might not be able to catch a ride back to your quarters.        

While the coverage itself molded me to be more versatile – I practiced writing on top of being a photojournalist – there was another side to the experience that helped me grow not only in craft but in character as well.

Being sent out into the world to gather so many compelling tales, listening to the stories of strangers I would have never crossed paths with otherwise – this, for me, was the highlight of my Palaro adventure. It was gathering the courage to approach the man in a wheelchair at the edge of the football field, who turned out to be an ex-athlete who never lost his passion for sports even after paralysis.

It was talking to a winning swimmer after her event, and finding out that her constant inspiration was the mother she lost to cancer two years ago, who used to be her biggest fan.

No amount of exposure or recognition could compare to the fulfillment that came with sharing the stories of all these unsung heroes.

It’s been a year since the 2017 Palarong Pambansa, yet I still find myself looking back on the fond memories this venture has given me. I still find myself reaching out and reminiscing with the friends I’ve made from different regions of the Philippines. (READ: DepEd, PSC to train campus journalists for Palarong Pambansa 2018 coverage)

I still find myself wishing for another shot at this endeavor that I’m proud to call the peak of my career as a campus journalist.  

Not only has it honed my craft, but it contributed such a significant impact on how I view people, passions, and dreams as well.

The Palaro Movers program indeed, with all its worthwhile struggles, is every aspiring journalist’s dream. – Rappler.com

Clarisse Cabinta is a graphic artist, feature writer, and photojournalist from Tuguegarao City. She is one of the 120 campus journalists and publication advisers trained by Rappler under the Palaro Movers Program in April 2017. She is an incoming Grade 12 student at the Ateneo de Manila Senior High School.

It’s strange. I was born to be an immigrant. My family did everything in their power to make sure I wouldn’t grow up in the Philippines.

My mother was successful at that. She immigrated to the United Kingdom and, a few years later, her children were given visas to stay indefinitely. I had what a lot of parents wanted for their children. 

She and my sister eventually became British citizens, as I held on to my very powerless Philippine passport.

I’d like to call myself a failed immigrant. I spent a year in high school in the UK in 2002, and 6 months pursuing a Masters degree in 2016. Both times I cut life plans short for one simple reason: I just love the Philippines so much more.

So it’s strange to be given a blue slip at the United States embassy, declaring me unqualified to be a non-immigrant. I cannot be a non-immigrant? But being a non-immigrant is what I’m good at, to the disappointment of an entire clan, which just doesn’t understand why I’m choosing to stay here.

I’ve written many personal stories about migration. This is a sad culmination of sorts, and I’ll tell you why.

READ: 
Finding Eudocia Pulido in her hometown in Tarlac
Eudocia Pulido had hopes, dreams, and fears too
Part 1: An undocumented OFW’s most awaited Christmas
Part 2: An OFW's special London Christmas with her daughter

An OFW’s daughter

My mother is finally retiring after decades of working as a carer in the UK. So this fall, she wanted to go to the US with my sister and me. It will be our first time as a family to travel abroad outside the UK.

I’m a proud daughter of the quintissential OFW. The daughter of a college graduate who became a maid because it was what was available abroad for many Filipinos.

I like that identity.

But all my life I’ve been trying to escape that narrative, and I’ve tried to do everything right: I finished my studies here, got good jobs here, and committed that everything I will do, I shall do for my country. And that includes making a good representation when I travel overseas.

Traveling and migration have become very personal to me. Everywhere I go, I try to have conversations with OFWs to get to know their stories, what brought them there, and if they would ever come back to the Philippines.

US visa application

So when I went to my interview at the US embassy in Manila to apply for a non-immigrant visa Friday morning, April 13, I tried to chat with people in my line. (READ: US tourist visa application guide: Tips and reminders)

They varied from wealthy businessmen to modest Filipinos who just want to see the Land of the Free. If they had a different agenda, I didn’t probe.  Besides, they were going to face probing by the consular officer. They didn’t need quizzing from me.

The one in front of me said she had no prior travel abroad, and was going to visit her husband in the US. She was denied.

The main rule of visa applications is: you are presumed to have an immigrant intent until the officer decides otherwise.

My immigrant intent, I feel, can be debunked in 5 words: I have always come back. 

It's important to say that I do not denounce those who resort to undocumented stay – unfair laws leave them few choices. I was just luckier. So I felt my UK indefinite visa was my golden ticket.

Soon as I mentioned it, the officer looked up from his computer and said, “That’s interesting.”

Then he asked a question that every single person I meet would usually ask me: Why are you not in the UK then?

I answered the way I’d always answered, with the truth: I just really love this country.

Rewriting the immigrant’s story

Trying to escape the narrative of migrating for greener pastures is both personal and political.

Personal because I want to show my family that there is more to quality of life than economics. There is staying together. There is growing up together long enough to really know each other.

Political because I want to show young people that there is value in staying here, that dreams come true here. I want to show other countries that Filipinos are worth so much more than accusations of stealing someone else’s job.

So my visa interview was not just about me wanting to see Times Square or Central Park. It wasn't just about spending quality time with the family I don't live with. It was about my solid chance to escape the narrative. To start rewriting my story, finally.

I can swear I was ready for the interview, as if I had been preparing all my life for that moment. The officer, without looking at any document, asked me 4 questions:

• Why are you visiting the US? (Family vacation, with my mother and my sister, who are coming from London.)
• Which countries have you visited? (Around Asia, and UK every two years for my visa.)
• How long have you been in your current job? (For over a year.)
• And finally: Why are you not in the UK? (I love it here, and I have a job here, which I love very much.)

He signed the blue slip and told me I was unqualified for a non-immigrant visa. As with all officers, he didn't explain why. 

In less than 5 minutes, he denied not my visa but my bid to have a different story. 

My friends speculated that it was because I appeared to have no social ties here, and it didn't help that I was only a year or so into my new work. But it's 2018 – families live apart, Filipino families live apart. And you can get a new job.

But those things didn't matter because it was about perception. It was about the minute details of your life that should prove: No, sir, I will not stay in your country illegally, it's not gonna be that story.

The officer told me I could reapply if and when "my circumstances change."

What circumstance has to change, individual or national, before we beat colonial presumptions and call ourselves worthy to travel this world freely?

How much harder do we have to work to earn the right to a different story? – Rappler.com

The proceedings the Supreme Court is conducting to determine whether Maria Lourdes Sereno is fit to remain as chief justice are a historic event, but only in the most abominable sense – as a spectacle of farcical justice. That's why they are being held in the Court's summer retreat, in the mountain city of Baguio, far from the righteously maddened crowd.

But it's too late for the Supreme Court to hide now. Not that it minds shame; it has readily revealed its prejudices against Sereno in public appearances and utterances, and is just as ready now to judge her. At any rate, unless tracked from its beginning and followed through to its all-too-predictable ending, the spectacle could not be appreciated for its dire consequences on the nation’s well-being.

It's all part of a larger conspiracy. It began with the election of a one-track-minded president, Rodrigo Duterte: he wants to rule as dictator, because he cannot be anything else. It’s a pathological fixation.

He ruled as dictator for more than two decades as mayor of a provincial city and has begun to do similarly as president. Or else how could he have, without oversight, ceded sovereignty to China over strategic Philippine waters? Or have carried on with his brutal war on drugs, yet be allowed to ignore protests of summary killings in its prosecution – protests that could only have been presumed valid given the incredible number of dead in his war, several thousands now?

Duterte being a case that cannot be belabored, Senators Leila de Lima and Antonio Trillanes IV had not stopped warning about him, only to realize that he had coopted the Senate and the House of Representatives even before their Congress opened under his presidency. As proof, both houses have been doing his bidding from the start. In fact, as early, if not earlier, De Lima had been herself a target.

Duterte had marked her since she, as chairperson of the Commission on Human Rights, put him under investigation as mayor on charges of death squad executions. Once installed president, he lost no time in exacting his vengeance; he let loose on her his enforcers from Congress, the Department of Justice, and the courts with a trumped-up case of illegal-drug dealing. In short order, she was thrown in jail and refused her right to bail.

Now, it's Sereno's turn. Her trouble with Duterte began when she blocked an attempt by him to overstep his bounds and meddle in the judiciary's reform effort. The next moment an impeachment case, for which were enlisted 5 Supreme Court justices she had bypassed when she was made their chief 4 years ago, was brought against her. Instead of giving relevant testimony, the 5 carped like unaccustomedly deprived kids; they had only personal grievances to raise against her. All the same, they were indulged by the House committee on justice in an inquiry so one-sided the accused was denied her right to reply.

Resigned to being impeached, she got ready to take her chances in the Senate, where a stricter two-thirds vote is needed for pronouncing guilt and the normal rules of trial are expected to be observed.

But unsure of the Senate vote themselves and also fearful that the trial might drag on for too long and further expose their conspiratorial hand, her persecutors decided to cut the process short and let the Supreme Court decide. It was the most warped interpretation of a most fundamental principle governing the dispensation of justice: being judged by one's peers.

But why should Duterte trouble himself with a minority chief justice? For one thing, Sereno was on the losing side of the voting on cases he is known to have himself espoused or supported – hero’s burial for his professed idol Ferdinand Marcos, acquittal for a prized ally accused of plunder, ex-President Gloria Arroyo, open-ended martial law for Mindanao. For another thing, majority of the justices were appointed by Arroyo and him, and for every one whose term ends it’s he who appoints the replacement.

So, why? There are as many answers as will feed Duterte’s ego, the one thing that drives him because of his clinically diagnosed “antisocial narcissistic personality disorder.” And the one answer that doesn’t need to be explained to him is, This chief justice crossed me; she is out.

Consequently, in any case, his constituency of conspirators are served as well. With Sereno out, the remaining 14 years that she will have served until her retirement, at age 70, are taken away and rationed out to cronies. An even more expansive benefit is provided by a conniving Supreme Court that supplies whatever constitutional justification the regime requires and allows it to do as it pleases.

It’s the ultimate betrayal of democracy: a conspiracy cooked up within the government, against it, and among its own 3 supposedly coequal and counterbalancing forces – the executive, the legislative, and the judicial.

And at this moment the only person standing in its way is Maria Lourdes Sereno. – Rappler.com