Letting the Past Die

“Let the past die.”

These words of Kylo Ren became a mantra after last December’s The Last Jedi. They evoked a feeling of progress, innovation, and change, and became a buzz phrase used online to emphasize the point that the ‘old ways’ are done and must be set aside so that the next generation can do their thing their way. Civilizations, innovations, and social norms and mores all all subject to creative destruction.

And yet, the film itself highlights the tension between letting the past go and holding it up. Teetering again on the age of annihilation, the Rebellion reached deep into its Legends to appeal to a tired and broken Luke Skywalker to lead the charge against Darkness once more. But even Luke’s own cynicism cannot shield him from the truth that we all perish anyway and that the work of Masters is to push their students to grow beyond them. This is how legacies form. The past ceases to be a relic but a foundation for the future.

Although only up to a point and here lies the tension: a lot of the conflict in Star Wars is because of people who can’t let go. Kylo Ren wanted to be the next Darth Vader. Luke Skywalker felt the obligation to restart the Jedi Order of old. The First Order was built from the remnants of the Empire. Anakin Skywalker had to live up to an ancient prophecy about bringing Balance to the Force.

Luke, willful and hopeful, embraced his father’s legacy as “a Jedi before me” at the end of Return of the Jedi. The Luke we meet at the beginning of The Last Jedi would probably look back at his naive younger self with some ridicule and regret. And yet, he puts the earnest and innocent Rey on the path of him becoming ‘not the Last Jedi’ leaving us with light, though a more somber light, once again.

We agree to let the past die, but not really. So where do we draw the line between reverence and madness? At what point does standing on the shoulders of the giants of the past become a perpetuation of history’s inevitable cycles? Or is it all really inevitable?

This is where we see ourselves now in our present civic moment.

Last Sunday marked the 32nd anniversary of the People Power Revolution, though not everyone would have it. Key figures in the present administration discredit it as the product of lies (‘fake news’) and history written through the lens of Aquino partisans. The President’s own daughter questioned its standing as our country’s symbol for democracy; unspoken is that as such it should be set aside. They argue that democracy has failed in its promise to uplift the poor and promote social justice. Revisionists now envision a Philippine history where the democratic experiment began and ended with the Aquinos, mother and son. Instead we draw upon a colonial past where for our patron we now have the Chinese rather than the Americans, and an authoritarian tradition that began from Spanish times only to be picked up once again by Ferdinard Marcos whose masterplan was merely derailed but not for long.

On the other hand, there are those who implore to further cement the legacy of People Power in the face of a creeping fascism that is actually already here. We have a long list of things to never forget in this country from the crimes of Marcos to the ability of a people to set right the course of history. The cry of People Power has now widened to encompass the protection of democratic hallmarks such as the freedom of the press, human rights, and the rule of law. In the wake of Duterte’s first year which was marred by the War on Drugs, we have yet to see accountability and now we fear that we can no longer expect it from a regime that simply shrugs away tough questions while pressing down on its own opponents. Hence a key agenda of the mobilizations over the weekend was to jar the State’s efforts to change the Constitution, a move that is seen only to further change the rules of the game to favor the already powerful and most favored.

It now seems that the national discourse is locked in a lightsaber duel, only less entertaining and far more real. But how does it all end? Is there a way out before the space station cracks in half right beneath our feet?

For the purposes of this simple blog post, let me propose two major themes. And let me go back to The Last Jedi here: moving forward, there can either be Old Luke or New Luke.

Old Luke would tell us that all we’re seeing is a natural cycle of things. The more we dip our hand in the fight, the more we open ourselves up to failure and frustration. War and conflict exist because of the ego and hedonism of man, and thus we best leave these battles alone and focus on ourselves and the little island worlds we create: our families, our businesses, our Instagram feeds, our narratives. Perhaps the world will end or it will change, but regardless I am done and if it goes to hell it won’t be because of me. We can be happy this way. We deserve to be happy this way.

On the other hand, New Luke would remind us that we’re all connected. We all have our moments in the sun before it sets on us, so we would do well to ensure that our light shines bright for others while we can be around to show them the way. So let’s raise good children. Let’s educate good students. Let’s run businesses that prioritize the social good. Let’s run for office. Let’s lead by example and do it well. We say that we want the world to change, so let’s show it how. In the end, all we can do is sacrifice the time and energy we have in the Hope that the next generation picks up where we leave off.

In the end, what we let die when we let the past die is us. By shedding our ego we open ourselves up to the possibility of community, continuity, and legacy. The challenges of our moment are daunting but this is just one moment. Change is inevitable but the pain and difficulty need not be.

The denial of People Power and democracy need not be the permanent state of affairs. As long as people remember it, continue its virtues, and build upon the things that it may have forgotten, it will remain an event that will be true to its name. We live in times with no easy answers but with astoundingly simple choices that can have profound effects in the generations that follow. Just get ready for the hard work that comes with any rebirth.


On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons for the 20th Century — for the Philippines

Historian Timothy Snyder writes On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons for the 20th Century for a global audience that skews American. In this blog post I offer insights from his work adapted to the Philippine setting. His book is a quick read, with each chapter opened by a one-paragraph sidebar that delivers pretty much the main point of the chapter. It is then followed by a brief exposition using one to two key examples from history. I’ll share that sidebar in bold, followed by a comment or two, or perhaps an excerpt from another piece I’ve read that’s aligned with the topic. I’ll keep my input short, punchy, and leave the rest for your reflection.

#1 Do not obey in advance.

Most of the power of authoritarianism is freely given. In times like these, individuals think ahead about what a more repressive government will want, and then offer themselves without being asked. A citizen who adapts in this way is teaching power what it can do.

Let me relate this to a question I once posed about us Filipinos — why do we seem so comfortable with giving up our rights? Here is a passage I discovered from “The Philippine Bill of Rights” written by Robert Aura Smith in the February 1945 issue of The Far Eastern Quarterly —

“The concept of a Bill of Rights, as such, is essentially an occidental product. For a number of centuries in British, French, and American political thought, there has grown the conviction that the rights of the individual must be preserved and safeguarded, not through the authority of an individual, not through membership in a particular group or party, not through reliance upon force of arms, but rather through the accepted processes of declared constitutional law. …

“The adoption of this concept in the Philippines was not as easy as might be supposed. There were traditional modes of thought influencing the Filipino in other directions. The concept in the beginning was alien, and political experience and education had to be added to the characteristic Filipino outlook before the Bill of Rights concept could become second nature to the Filipino in his approach to the problems of group organization.

“The political history of the Philippines since the middle of the seventeenth century was not conducive to this type of growth. Whatever the Filipino came to know of the liberty and the dignity of the individual under three centuries of Spanish domination was provoked rather than inspired. Spanish rule was absolute and, under it, the liberty of the individual became a matter of the grant of the ruler rather than the right of the ruled. It was a government of men, not of laws. The rights of the Filipinos, as rights, were no conspicuous part of Spanish political thought.”

One reading of this passage is that in the Philippine context, the equality of men is not ‘self-evident’ as Jefferson would put it. Rights, rather privileges, are given through the consent and patronage of the governing authority. Once it was the King of Spain. Then Uncle Sam. Then the cohort of men and women who we saw as uniquely positioned to solve all our country’s problems. To avoid obeying in advance, we can begin by moving beyond the mindset of electing leaders who we depend on to tell us what to do.

#2 Defend institutions.

It is institutions that help us to preserve decency. They need our help as well. Do not speak of “our institutions” unless you make them yours by acting on their behalf. Institutions do not protect themselves. They fall one after the other unless each is defended from the beginning. So choose an institution you care about—a court, a newspaper, a law, a labor union—and take its side.

I recall an article I read on Rappler, ‘The curious case of the Mocha Uson blog‘. Carmel Abao raises some interesting points, especially the last: Uson’s blog is a symptom of a fragile, not robust, democracy. It may claim to stand for ‘freedom of expression’ but does so in a dangerous way.

Abao writes:

The Mocha Uson blog controversy should remind us that there is something terribly wrong with our representative democracy. Citizens are now (literally) fighting with each other directly (on social media) instead of through their elected representatives. That there are more exchanges and more dissent outside of government instead of within government should be cause for concern.

Yes, public discourse on social media should be promoted but it should not replace or supersede deliberation in mandated political institutions such as the legislature.

This situation is evidently the consequence of having a supermajority in Congress rather than a political configuration where the minority effectively engages the majority. It must be noted that such is not just President Duterte’s doing but the product of patronage-based/pork barrel politics, a weak party system, and a winner-take-all political system.

If we had real and strong political parties that stood for particular ideals instead of just serving as vehicles for presidential candidacies, and, a system of proportional representation where diverse ideals could be articulated and negotiated, perhaps public discourse outside of formal politics would not be so antagonistic and polarizing. Moreover, if we had real political parties, public discourse within formal political institutions would be more substantive and productive.

In my opinion, our representative democracy is not working because we have reduced democracy to a numbers game. Who wins the plurality in elections wins it all and losers are expected to be invisible after elections. Who gains the most number of followers in social media are deemed the most authoritative of all political commentators and those who have fewer “likes” and “shares” are deemed unreasonable or insignificant. What is viral online is deemed the (only) truth.

#3 Beware the one-party state.

The parties that remade states and suppressed rivals were not omnipotent from the start. They exploited a historic moment to make political life impossible for their opponents. So support the multi-party system and defend the rules of democratic elections. Vote in local and state elections while you can. Consider running for office.

The Philippines has never been known as a country with a robust party system. Political horse-trading is the norm and every cycle we can rely on balimbings jumping from one party to another, usually following whoever has the power and money (pork).

And over the past year, we’ve seen a rush of stories where popular figures were forced to explain an unpopular vote. Case in point is Geraldine Roman and her attempt to playdown her vote for the Death Penalty as a matter of ‘political pragmatism’. Others are singing a similar tune now with the vote to defund the Commission on Human Rights.

There is an aspirational aspect to politics: the political horse-trading need not be the norm. But this also requires better choices and better people to be elected. Perhaps some of us who speak loudly of our dreams can take those to the halls of Congress eventually.

#4 Take responsibility for the face of the world.

The symbols of today enable the reality of tomorrow. Notice the swastikas and the other signs of hate. Do not look away, and do not get used to them. Remove them yourself and set an example for others to do so.

For this, I’ll let these pictures do the talking:

Images matter. Nothing is accidental.

#5 Remember professional ethics.

When political leaders set a negative example, professional commitments to just practice become more important. It is hard to subvert a rule-of-law state without lawyers, or to hold show trials without judges. Authoritarians need obedient civil servants, and concentration camp directors seek businessmen interested in cheap labor.

I recall how simple it was back during the time of Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo: people saw her as corrupt and for that understood how everything else in government was as broken and corrupt. This is why Noynoy Aquino’s platform worked so well: the Daang Matuwid was a full-on counter to the crookedness of the Macapagal-Arroyo administration. It was a simple message that resonated and was compatible with the ‘Aquino brand’ that was then still untainted.

Then, it was easier for teachers to teach, actually. In imparting good civic and professional values, all we had to show was the negative that was coming out of the Arroyo administration. Resistance was doing good and promising a country better than what those in power are trying to make them to be.

#6 Be wary of paramilitaries.

When the men with guns who have always claimed to be against the system start wearing uniforms and marching with torches and pictures of a leader, the end is nigh. When the pro-leader paramilitary and the official police and military intermingle, the end has come.

The Davao Death Squads — the real DDS — are well-documented, even if their narrative is not fully accepted. Duterte supporters have even appropriated the name to mean something else — the Duterte Die-hard Supporters — even if both their effects is to embolden and enable Duterte’s brand of fascism. This is why, for the life of me, I still find it difficult to imagine how anyone with a sense of the Davao Death Squads could have voted for Duterte. Denialism was rampant during the elections, and this denialism is turning its ugly head again now that police brutality has become a reality despite all our warnings.

#7 Be reflective if you must be armed.

If you carry a weapon in public service, may God bless you and keep you. But know that evils of the past involved policemen and soldiers finding themselves, one day, doing irregular things. Be ready to say no.

Not all police are the same. In this section, I’d like to recognize those who are standing up against impropriety and evil.

Cebu City Chief Police Superintendent Joel Doria works with the CHR to train his new officers.

From Bogo City, Cebu, Police Chief Supt. Byron Allatog wants a community-based response to the drug problem.

Cagayan de Oro Police make it policy to have zero casualties in apprehending drug suspects.

It is possible to do good work. It is imperative to do good work.

#8 Stand out.

Someone has to. It is easy to follow along. It can feel strange to do or say something different. But without that unease, there is no freedom. Remember Rosa Parks. The moment you set an example, the spell of the status quo is broken, and others will follow.

It’s a paradox that in a technological age that enables freer and looser movement for individuals, the forces of sameness and compliance are also in full swing. Behind every ‘personal brand’ is someone who has the ‘fear of missing out.’ So to stand out, say no to the forces that compel you to get in line. Here is a good read on how to get over FOMO.

This is why I’m slightly skeptical of outrage culture. Yes, it is important to speak up and to articulate our sentiments on the matters that move us. But there comes a point when all that seems to happen is a steady stream of outrage online but with no action on the ground? Then it becomes a little disillusioning.

So lately I’ve been trying to take a step back when something happens, get all my facts first, and then chime in with an opinion if and only if I feel it leads to something useful or practical. Otherwise I keep it to the length of a tweet — and just one — if I feel my sanity requires a little steam out for the sake of my mental health. But I’m still plagued by the question of what happens next and how we can break the cycle of outrage so that we all have something to collectively celebrate and be thankful for.

#9 Be kind to our language.

Avoid pronouncing the phrases everyone else does. Think up your own way of speaking, even if only to convey that thing you think everyone is saying. Make an effort to separate yourself from the internet. Read books.

I’ve been trying to up my reading output as of late. At a point I felt that the Internet was making me less patient, less curious. Reading books allows me to slow down and really think through what I’m learning. And after going fully digital with my books, I’m finding that I’m picking up hardcovers more and more. Not surprisingly, it is liberating to go at your own pace rather than being fed information by an algorithm.

Next up is writing. I used to write quite a lot and I hope to exercise those muscles again. I find that there is value in expressing oneself but aspire to do ways that aren’t redundant (see #8) but instead value-adding.

#10 Believe in truth.

To abandon facts is to abandon freedom. If nothing is true, then no one can criticize power, because there is no basis upon which to do so. If nothing is true, then all is spectacle. The biggest wallet pays for the most blinding lights.

The truth may be contested but the facts are verifiable. Democracy today has become doubly challenging when the facts themselves are negotiated. It all began when Public Relations firms started spinning for their clients, but that has now become supercharged through the use of social media and open knowledge platforms such as Wikipedia. Hence it becomes more important to double down on sources that are verifiable, vetted, and somehow more static and less prone to manipulation. Hence, books (see #9).

But indeed, men have been overselling themselves since the opening paragraph of Hammurabi’s Code. And like Hammurabi, modern day politicians weave their own narratives so they come across as larger than life and hence more entitled to extracting resources from a state they have captured for their own. This is what drives the historical revisionism of the Marcoses. This is why everything scholarly and written about the man and his legacy must be preserved, and why everything they present online must be contested.

#11 Investigate.

Figure things out for yourself. Spend more time with long articles. Subsidize investigative journalism by subscribing to print media. Realize that some of what is on the internet is there to harm you. Learn about sites that investigate propaganda campaigns (some of which come from abroad). Take responsibility for what you communicate with others.

Fake news thrives on two things: vindictiveness and convenience. There are opinions which people push regardless of the facts, moreso if reputation and competition is at stake. Then there is just failure on the part of the consumer to discern and dig deeper into the headlines dished out by social media news. But it is still possible for long-term stories to gain traction. In recent memory was My Family’s Slave which shone an atypical light on the culture of Filipino househelp. The story spurred quite a lot of commentaries and led to the general consensus that as a society we can’t have multiple standards on people’s rights.

In the short-term though, and as social media still figures out how to combat misinformation, it falls on us to educate each other on what can or shouldn’t be shared. That in itself is a heavy, political discussion but to do so is to stand up (see #8) and avoid the pitfalls of social media argument death spirals.

#12 Make eye contact and small talk.

This is not just polite. It is part of being a citizen and a responsible member of society. It is also a way to stay in touch with your surroundings, break down social barriers, and understand whom you should and should not trust. If we enter a culture of denunciation, you will want to know the psychological landscape of your daily life.

Perhaps an analogue for the Millennial generation is their habit of talking to their Grab and Uber drivers. Feeble and quaint as these encounters may be, they do lead to surprising insight about themselves and each other; there is definitely no shortage of insightful #UberStories online. But how do we scale this up? In Pope Francis’ visit to us last 2015, a message he left us is the importance of the encounter — being present with others to get a deep sense of their story, hopes, and dreams. To take a quick break as I’ve now written twelve items and have eight more to go, I’ll turn over the floor to Pope Francis with his TED talk where he expounds on the theme of encounter.

#13 Practice corporeal politics.

Power wants your body softening in your chair and your emotions dissipating on the screen. Get outside. Put your body in unfamiliar places with unfamiliar people. Make new friends and march with them.

On the morning of November 19, 2016 my wife and I woke up spiritually pained. Ferdinand Marcos was buried in the Libingan ng mga Bayani just the day before and it became hard to imagine a world where the justice could be served for all those who were taken away and killed during the dark days of Martial Law. So we then went to a memorial for these fallen, unsung heroes. No one called us there. No one expected us there. But there we were, communing with their names in the hopes our own spirits never forget them.

There are just moments in one’s civic life when the routines of the day have to be set aside so that we can re-orient and focus ourselves amidst the competing values of daily life. And by its nature, civic virtues invite us beyond our comfort zones and this may mean getting up from our seats, walking a mile in others’ shoes, and being present in new spaces whether it be a protest rally, a march, or listening in at a key hearing in Congress.

#14 Establish a private life.

Nastier rulers will use what they know about you to push you around. Scrub your computer of malware on a regular basis. Remember that email is skywriting. Consider using alternative forms of the internet, or simply using it less. Have personal exchanges in person. For the same reason, resolve any legal trouble. Tyrants seek the hook on which to hang you. Try not to have hooks.

Social media has become so contested that nothing is safe, not even your memories with friends, your ideas, and your stories. If can’t be done away with, a social media detox would be healthy every now and then.

#15 Contribute to good causes.

Be active in organizations, political or not, that express your own view of life. Pick a charity or two and set up autopay. Then you will have made a free choice that supports civil society and helps others to do good.

If there is something we should be proud of in our country, it is that we have a very vibrant civil society. There is no shortage of groups seeking to do good, and even less of a shortage in opportunities to put together groups when there are needs that are yet unserved or unmet. Building capacity for these organizations (Peoples’ Organizations, Non-Governmental Organizations, Social Action Centers) is now a key area of interest and competence as well. The Zuellig School in the Asian Institute of Management has Master’s programs (and scholarships) for Development practitioners. I myself am part of a group that has recently been doing organizational development work for non-profits.

#16 Learn from peers in other countries.

Keep up your friendships abroad, or make new friends in other countries. The present difficulties in the United States are an element of a larger trend. And no country is going to find a solution by itself. Make sure you and your family have passports.

I am of two minds about the impact of foreign culture on Philppine mores. Given our sizable diaspora, there is no lack of insight and input on how the best of what is out there can improve our cities, communities, and livelihood. And yet at times, when faced with the hard work of adapting lessons learned to our shores, we preempt difficulties and challenges with a strange brand of Philippine exceptionalism — “Eh, iba naman kasi dito sa atin.”

There are definitely deeper structural issues that make meaningful systemic change difficult despite the evidence on how it can be done. A good case on this would be the War on Drugs. Universal opinion is now against the heavy-handed method chosen by Duterte and yet he refuses the wisdom of the experience from other countries.

#17 Listen for dangerous words.

Be alert to the use of the words extremism and terrorism. Be alive to the fatal notions of emergency and exception. Be angry about the treacherous use of patriotic vocabulary.

Mr. Duterte now finds himself in two wars, both of which are aggravated by the words and the manner with which he dispenses his opinions.

The War on Drugs is as contentious as it is now widespread. The fallibility of the strategy is well-established. Yet Mr. Duterte’s fixation on the menace goes beyond an obsession with failed tactics — he is demeaning in his language and refers to addicts in the most dehumanizing terms. He has deep ingrained biases that will make it difficult for him to see reason, and to subject any criticism of his methods to a deadly war on attrition.

Second is the War in Mindanao which is facilitated by his declaration of Martial Law and the impossible Siege of Marawi. This war, too, he subjects to absolutist terms which he even connects with the proliferation of drugs. To rally support for these excursions, Mr. Duterte resorts to his ‘Duterte Harry’ persona, using words and language that are not fit for civic conversation. And to complete the poision brew, Mr. Duterte wraps his slurs in his own brand of Nationalism that ultimately alienates and oppresses others.

#18 Be calm when the unthinkable arrives.

Modern tyranny is terror management. When the terrorist attack comes, remember that authoritarians exploit such events in order to consolidate power. The sudden disaster that requires the end of checks and balances, the dissolution of opposition parties, the suspension of freedom of expression, the right to a fair trial, and so on, is the oldest trick in the Hitlerian book. Do not fall for it.

Shock and awe. A phrase used by George W. Bush when they were mapping the invasion of Iraq. Shock and awe. A turn of phrase used by Duterte supporters to describe what they hope will be his impact on the oligarchic narrative they wish to destroy. Common to both is the use of fear, of which Duterte is proving to be a cunning master. He has repeatedly and constantly shocked and upended expectations — from ostracizing his Vice President to sponsoring the Burial of Marcos, from dehumanizing addicts and drug dependents to threatening all those who speak on behalf of Human Rights. Fear keeps the opposition on the defensive and preempts any action that would critique or check the incumbent. This in turn boosts the morale of his supporters who see this as the behavior of a strong-willed leader.

The response is to achieve a certain ‘freedom from fear’ which will require a certain acceptance of what can be changed or cannot be changed within the current rules of the game. Freedom from fear, however, will require time, patience, collective action, and courage. To be impervious to fear is to be immune to the machinations of the regime.

I am still figuring this out myself, but so far what has been working is stepping back from being enslaved by the news cycle and resisting the urge to express my outrage and indignation on their own terms. We all have other talents and dreams — especially dreams. And by anchoring our energies on the aspect of our lives we can impact — our families, our friends, our work — then we generate hope. We generate the energy that will be required to fight another day and work towards that country we all dream about. Done is never done.

#19 Be a patriot.

Set a good example of what America means for the generations to come. They will need it.

At the end of the day, we share the same country with the 40% of voters (16 million) who voted for Duterte last 2016. It is easy to cast derision and blame their way, but the truth is that the factors that precipitated the rise of Duterte preceded any judgment or calculation by those 16 million. Through our past choices that may or may not have excluded others, there now exists a society where some feel so alienated that they had to vote for a person that was as foreign to the system and who was poised to make a country into one that included them. And after Duterte passes his term, we will all be left to pick up the pieces.

Thus, we are constantly nation-building. Everything we do now counts. We resist when we fight the power, we resist when we live good lives that exemplify Filipino values. Sipag. Tiyaga. Pagmamahal sa Diyos. Pagmamahal sa kapwa.


Walang Bayanihan na walang Bayani.

#20 Be as courageous as you can.

If none of us is prepared to die for freedom, then all of us will die under tyranny.

Our history is full of stories of men who knew the price that had to be paid for freedom and liberty. And once lost, these prizes are not redeemed automatically either. We’ll have to fight to win them back and it may hurt. In this New New Society that Mr. Duterte has ushered in, we are now at 13,000 and counting.

But then there are the rest: the educated, the privileged, the elite. What are we willing to give up? How far are we willing to go? After the books are read and after the walls of text are written, after the work is done and our families are cared for, and after the degrees are won and the papers are published, what more will we be ready to do for this little country of ours?

As for myself? I don’t know. I have some ideas. But I’m hoping that we all get to figure it out together, as free men do.

Our Era of Speculation-Driven Politics

Issues are issues because of people who make judgments.

This is why Ad Hominem attacks, dishonest and ‘fallacious’ they may be, are powerful and disarming. At the end of the day, decisions on whether to wage war, provide for free college tuition, increase the coverage of healthcare, build this bridge over these houses — and a million other policy choices — are subject to human judgement and error, especially error.

So in anger over those ‘stupid’ errors we call them names and nicknames (ie. adultress, kalbo, Tuta ng Kano), we call them out on their personal hypocrisies to put into question their ability to make sound and fair judgments. That’s really the purpose of personal attacks, true or otherwise: to weaken the moral authority of another in order to rob them of their argumentative and, ultimately, political power.

This is why, when under attack, imploring to ‘stick to the issues’ or to ‘debate the program not the person’ are truly the first lines of defense. They seem intuitive enough: let’s not talk about me, I’ll not talk about you, and let’s instead focus on the ‘issues’ that ‘matter’. Never mind that how we frame an issue is a function of our own subjective lenses. Never mind that what comes to matter is a product of individual systems of assumptions and beliefs. Taken to its extreme, ‘sticking to the issues’ can be dehumanizing and in itself be a trick to deprive the other of power just because they’re not on the level.

My realization in our era of acidic debate is that it has become  quite impossible to separate message from messenger, that the openness of social media and the Internet demands a certain categorical consistency between brand and being — either you’re all of you or you’re none of you. Because if it were really only the issues that matter, then Clinton would have locked up the Presidency of the United States months ago.

Moreover, there is a certain asymmetry that’s naturally built in to our discourse that makes it tempting to slide into personal attacks — we don’t all have complete information. I’m not even referring to education: that series of competencies that are predetermined to define the civility and merit of individuals and groups. Just knowledge and information in a pure economic sense, as currency in the intellectual market.

The classic case of where information asymmetry occurs to the benefit of those who know more is in the stock market. This is why insider trading has been outlawed (and yet persists): because it puts those with more, privileged information at a better position to exploit the market and extend their gains.

In our modern online debates we, too, make certain bets on the positions (judgments) we take on the issues and controversies of the day. We can change our minds when the facts change. But we can also raise new facts to bolster and strengthen our position. Both are skills, and our ability to do either or both can definitely increase with education, experience, or time. The system can be gamed however, just like the stock market, by introducing new, speculative positions that can tilt the gains one way or another. The information need not even be true to make a difference, just real enough to drive real speculation that would lead to anywhere from intransigence to surrender to panic.

It is this speculative behavior that lies at the heart of our debates now. And as much as we aspire to ‘stick to the issues’ or to ‘debate the program not the person’, there exists an imbalance, an asymmetry in information, that makes such calculating analytical debates impossible, if at all they were even ever possible. It is from this power imbalance then that the debates can become personal, and at this point the response can range from the Ad Hominem attacks we now see too often, to an articulation of one’s values to reset the terms of the debate.

That last point is something for us to ponder — giving voice to values. This is actually the key to transcending conflict and finding common ground. (For more on this, if you have read up to this point, I’d recommend the work of Mary C. Gentile or Theory U by Otto Scharmer.)

It is a level of discourse that is all but impossible in the context of social media, but think Humans of New York if it were a conversation. Can we find the space, online at least, to encounter others as genuine persons, not merely avatars or bytes? After all, issues are issues because people care; to debate them on the merits, we’ll have to meet them there.

The Signal and the Noise

Let’s not allow ourselves to get distracted.

About two weeks ago, I decided to leave social media and to delete my Facebook and Twitter. This was in the aftermath of the Davao bombing, which killed 14. But instead of unity, partisanship continued to fester and rear its ugly head. Opposing camps raised their pitchforks; supporters telling detractors to go ahead and ‘celebrate’ that the President’s beloved hometown was hit, and critics of the President calling it his ‘karma’ for the wars he’s suddenly waging.

My reaction to these was to damn any merits to these arguments; fourteen lives were lost and dozens were injured and all people could think about was whose online arguments benefit from these recent events. Instead I wanted to believe that the online interaction isn’t representative — shouldn’t be representative — of the whole country’s mood and thinking. I wanted to hope in our people, and I was compelled that the only way to see that again was to have a clean break from all the negativity and vitriol.

I lasted about a week. When one of the government’s official social media channels erred on a posting they made about the former President Marcos, I felt morally and socially compelled to learn for myself and tell them off. Since then I’ve been on and off the newsfeeds, trying to focus back on friends and family, while appreciating what I can learn from what people I respect have to say and share about our state of affairs. I am reminded of the distinction between signal and noise — too often we deal with the noisiness of reactions, feedback, and quick takes at the expense of tuning into the signal or the pulse of the matter. (No surprise that this is the title of a book by Nate Silver on data and predictions, which I recommend.)

And over the past few days, social media has offered a lot to get us distracted. A lot of noise.

Last Thursday was the third hearing at the Senate into allegations of extrajudicial killings brought on by the war on drugs. Moreso than the potentially damning revelations of the key though somewhat shakey witness, people’s reaction to the juvenile in-fighting of Senators Cayetano and Trillanes dominated memes and conversation. It made the allegations surfaced that day even more difficult to fathom and comprehend given the overall preposterousness of the entire affair.

And over the past twenty four hours, a minor social media personality firmly in the President’s camp issued a scathing and biting challenge to practicing journalists, experts, and even a satirical Facebook page to debate about the international media’s bias against the government. It’s such a ridiculous move that it is gaining a lot of attention from people who mean very well to put her in her place. Unfortunately, this noise is muffling the other debates that we should be having — the merits of the government’s overall strategy in the War on Drugs, especially now that they seek an extension of their original 6-month deadline.

Because here is what the signal looks like, if we’re able to focus enough and remain free of distractions and noise —

  1. President Duterte is making good on his campaign promise of ‘eradicating drugs’ within 3 to 6 months of his campaign. His strategy of choice is supply reduction through law enforcement resulting to the elimination of drug pushers and traffickers, and ultimately drug lords and cartels.
  2. The operations have been mixed. While internal PNP records and official communications seem to suggest an overall reduction in drugs, a spate of murders, summary killings, and vigilante killings is well-documented though often and awkwardly clustered together under the overall header of ‘extrajudicial killings’ — some cases like murders and vigilante reprisals are criminal acts, plain and simple.
  3. Furthermore, there have been extensive studies and reviews done on countries that have adopted similar strategies in their own ‘war on drugs’ and the consensus is that policies that revolve around violence have been proven to be ineffective overall. These studies also note a dangerous erosion on civil and political rights if these aggressive tactics are brought to their conclusion.
  4. Inquiries in aid of legislation have been initiated at the Senate to look into these alleged ‘EJKs’ and to see whether the Philippine National Police would either need more resources to fulfill their mission or be made to reevaluate their strategy entirely — at least this was the tone that the Senate was able to set at the beginning, but by the third installment (with the introduction of a witness that spoke about not the current EJKs but of the Davao Death Squads of the past) became fully ripe for partisan jousting.
  5. Government has stood firmly by its strategy on the War on Drugs despite an internal probe (Senate) and a steady simmer of unflattering news coverage from abroad. The President has been consistent on his little regard for the human rights of criminals (even just criminal suspects), on his science on how drug dependents cease to be functional members of society, on how all crimes are correlated with drugs somehow, on how he refuses to be dictated upon by foreign agencies and governments on how to conduct our sovereign business, and on how the state’s law enforcement mechanism (the police plus the military) would be all he needs to quell the drug menace in the near-term. (He has expressed frustration that a loftier budget to build rehabilitation centers can only be realized next year since these are currently unaccounted for in the budget.)
  6. Now the President seeks an extension of six-months on his campaign promise to eradicate drugs and criminality in 3-6 months. The President of the Philippines serves a term of six-years.
  7. And as the deadly Davao bombing of September 2 reminds us, there are other conflicts on the President’s plate. While this incident may have its roots in terrorism, investigations into the matter remain inconclusive.

The real debates that must be had in this country are not between tough-minded partisans. It is between the government and its people, and on the merits of their strategies — a lot of the assumptions of which I ended up enumerating in #5.

The above enumeration is by no means an exhaustive summary of the ‘signal’ that requires our focus. But just imagine that in a same way that a radar that blips once to show a signal’s position at one point in time, the above is just one blip. Future blips may show either stability or movement and we’re sure not to miss it when we train our attention less on noise.

Post-colonial Man

President Rodrigo Duterte seems to be the President we needed in the 1950’s.

The World Wars have just ended and the financial and political cost of maintaining colonies, whether American or British, became a less feasible project — at least in Southeast Asia. (In reality, the axis of Anglo-American imperialism shifted closer to the borders of Europe, particularly the Middle East.)

Nationalism became the norm in South to East Asia. India declared their independence from Britain in 1947, the People’s Republic of China was born in 1949. Countries ravaged by World War II, the Philippines, Malaysia, Indonesia, and Singapore, likewise asserted their independence and the imperial powers that brought them war were all too eager to just give it. And lastly, the United Nations was still in its nascent stages, with the terms of engagement still being written on how exactly one participates in a community of nations. The accounting of historical atrocities have to be made to arrive at some agreement to come together and unite.

Taking the internal view, these former colonies were impaired by colonial infrastructure — projects that served the interests of the imperialists with little regard for the organic economies, networks, and communities of the local populace. Industries were either underdeveloped or non-existent, and cultural norms were supplanted by foreign novels, habits, film, and even food.

The exit of the imperialists left gaping holes in institutions that local state-building had to fill. And here is where and when we could have used a strongman like Duterte, a head of state that is an unapologetic nationalist and ruler of a sovereign people. Even Lee Kuan Yew had to start with caning his people and instituting discipline in a way that is uniquely Confucian, and then ultimately, Singaporean.

At times, I find that Duterte is misunderstood not just for the regional and linguistic peripheries that he comes from. He is also a man out of his time, a post-Colonial strongman in a country 60 years removed from its colonial past. In a way, we deserve him; the promises of independence and sovereignty remain unfulfilled. But in another way, this makes his prospect of governing us anachronistic at best. All the more then that we must reach out to our history, and that the President be clear about the vision of the country he seeks to build.


Originally posted on Facebook last June 12.

It is not true that the Philippines is too democratic. If it were, then citizen participation in government would be the norm. We would celebrate press freedom, civil society, public referenda, and openly contested elections. We have all of this, but not to the point of excess. Some, like our elections, are still works in progress. The problem is that we have too much freedom with too little democracy to tame it.

That sounds paradoxical, doesn’t it? That democracy regulates freedom. Because, after all, democracy isn’t a state of absolute (read: unimpeded, unbridled) freedom. That would either be utopia or anarchy, depending on your premise about human nature. Instead, democracy is in fact just one way, among many possibilities, of structuring society. By its own etymology, it suggests a ‘rule of the people’ and this is achieved by putting in place structures and Institutions such as law and government to make such project feasible.

To suggest that we may in fact have ‘little democracy’ means that these structures and institutions are not ‘there yet’. Freedom is still unregulated to the point that monied elites are free to capture industries that they develop only to the point that it serves their self-interest. Traditional political families are still free to capture seats of power which they theatrically contest every so often. Journalists are free enough to report on the latest juvenile love team, but not free enough from revenge or reprisal to report on corruption and extrajudicial killings. Advocates for social causes are free enough to banner their fights and scream at the top of their lungs, but not free enough to reliably and consistently influence public policy which is still subject to the influence of money, fraternities, and clannish loyalties. Ordinary citizens are free to do as they please and, to a fault, are too free to be selective about the ordinances, statutes, and laws that they violate when their exercise of freedom comes into conflict with someone else’s.

All these checks against some freedoms to support the wider freedoms of the majority — these are the aims of the institutions and structures of democracy.  As long as these institutions are weak, social equity and justice will be elusive, illusory, and incomplete.

How then do we further the democratic project?

I find that we’re at an interesting point in our country’s political history where we are revisiting that very project. A new administration has been elected with a popular mandate and they find that democracy may not hold all the answers to our society’s ills. They suggest, in varying degrees, that there are valid responses from socialism, authoritarianism, and even fascism. However, here’s the rub: will the form of government that they prefer be compatible with the Filipino’s notion of freedom?

We are a people who have rejected the political dominion of Spain, Japan, and America. Once, we rejected a dictator of our own making. As a nation, the Filipinos are characterized by a collective sovereignty that supercedes the sovereignty of anybody else. We may be entering a period where this assumption will be tested once again, as there seems to be some confusion about what vagaries such as freedom and democratic entail. But the arc of history has always been resoundingly clear.

It’s Time to Get Serious about K-12

This may be counterintuitive to suggest but now is the best time to get serious about how we discuss, dissect, and debate what is the biggest reform project in Philippine education: K-12, the shift from a 10-year to a 12-year education cycle.

It may be counterintuitive given that the idea first gained currency in 2011. But then and in the years that followed, the program remained in the realm of conjecture. It was all theory, plans, drafts of skeletal frameworks; but it was enough to get schools busy with their SWOT analyses and summer plannings (that resolved to study the proposed changes and then convene to plan against next summer).

2016 seemed so far away then, but it is upon us now: the year when schools nationwide — both public and private — are mandated to offer Senior High School Grade 11 for the first time.

In those five years, I myself moved from classroom teaching to school operations. I first met K-12 with opposition; teaching then in a science high school, I helped my co-faculty draft a statement against the adoption of any changes in our curriculum because of K-12. We argued that our curriculum was sufficiently advanced and that it will continue to give our students an edge despite the absence of an additional two-years. What’s surprising now is that schools outside the operational jurisdiction of the DepEd actually have the liberty to not adhere to the K-12 program. But sadly that point was lost on my school five years ago — I’d say that politics did it in given the government funding it receives — and has become a moot point that sounds almost mythical now.

In the past two years, I’ve become more busy on the back-end of things: building a school, designing a curriculum, hiring and training teachers, and leading a team that does all that. As a provider of private education, we see the DepEd as a regulator — we have autonomy to do things as we’d like, provided we conform to some minimum standards and rules set by the Department. Otherwise, we receive no permits, no accreditation, and run the risk of losing clients because we would be seen as non-compliant to the DepEd. Fair enough.

The K-12 curriculum program is one such regulation.

Though private schools ultimately have the option to not provide it given that we’re outside the operational jurisdiction of DepEd, it has become a matter of survival for schools to do so. Technically, DepEd permits are given out in parcels: Pre-school, Elementary, High School, and Senior High School. Schools may offer only one department — hence some are just pre-schools, some are just high schools. It becomes a matter of survival because private schools lack one advantage public schools have: financial sustainability is a function of balancing a budget between one’s revenues — tuition — and expenses.

To not offer Senior High School is thus to concede your clients to other schools. From a user perspective, why enroll in multiple schools when I can have my child school continuously from Pre-school to Senior High School in one campus? Stability and reliability of place, after all, is a key factor in choosing a school. So as to not be one upped by the competition, there now exists pressure on all private schools to offer K-12 so as to offer value to their clientele.

It is in this competitive, regulatory environment that private school providers are engaged to make up for the slack in public education capacity. DepEd central reports that about 70% of public high schools are being prepared to offer Senior High School; however, stories on the ground from places such as Silay and Panay report that at best, their public schools can accommodate 20% of the incoming Grade 10 cohort. In the Cavite locale where our own schools operate, private providers of Senior High School outnumber public providers at an actual ratio of 21:4.

From where I sit therefore, the stakes are high to get K-12 right. We, as with the thousands of other private school providers, are expected to march lockstep with these grand reforms.

To be fair to our tri-partite education agencies — the Department of Education, the Commission on Higher Education (CHED), and the Technical Education and Skills Development Authority (TESDA) — there is cognition of the massive scale of this reform and the need to learn and adjust in real-time. What I’d like to know is how serious they are at taking in feedback and iterating their program design and public policy. I am curious to see whether the Leviathan that is Philippine education can be agile enough to respond to the realities and evidence of the actual implementation of K-12.


Because as we get into the fine details of implementation — and we know what they say about the devil — the limitations, contradictions, and constraints of the policy become apparent. Moreover, the spirit of private enterprise is its capacity to innovate and respond to market demands; to strictly adhere to the design of DepEd can at times run counter to this, especially when it leads to program decisions that are inefficient or ineffective. Some questions can already be identified when one gets to the core intended features of the program: that it is market-ready and student-centered. The path identified by the programmers of K-12 may not necessarily align with the innovations and services that private education providers have.

For the sections that follow, it would be helpful if the reader has some background on the K-12 program. To keep things official, here’s the DepEd page.


At the heart of the argument for K-12 is that its graduates would be employable upon completion. This raises two questions.

Firstly, is there alignment between the streams to be offered in K-12 and the demands of the job market? For sake of argument let’s say that as of 2016, STEM would lead our students to be scientists and engineers, HUMSS would lead someone to become a novelist, or that ABM would lead all to entrepreneurs. But what about in 2026? 2036?

But even just the present job market is tricky.

Many graduates of the Philippine Science High School — even when they move on to science, math, and engineering degrees in college — remain underemployed. The intent of the PSHS program to supply a class of natural scientists is at best half-met but not to any fault of the program itself, but because of the dearth of actual careers in research and the hard sciences in the country. The PSHS is a good prototype of the job mismatch that graduates of the STEM strand would encounter. What is the point of being market-ready if there is no market?

Another case — Part of the allure of K-12 is its emphasis on technical vocational education. At the policy level, the TVET strand is where the DepEd could claim victory in the market alignment debate. Part of the strategy is to engage industry leaders and associations in designing the curricula of skills and competencies that would make SHS graduates outright employable.

That’s all good, provided the industry survives. A recently published article in the Economist cites that call centers, a growth driver in the developing nations such as ours, is now under threat by newer technology. A strategic alliance with the IT and Business Process Outsourcing Association of the Philippines (IBPAP) could mean little in 2026 or even 2036 once the industry is obliterated by artificial intelligence. When that time comes, let’s see how relevant the Contact Center Services Curriculum Guide will be.

This leads to the second question in relation to K-12’s objective of market-readiness: Are we overeducating our kids? Overeducation occurs when the skills and competencies taught are well beyond what the market can provide. Job mismatch occurs not just when supply side (schools, DepEd) are not aligned with the demand side (jobs, industries). Job mismatch occurs also when there is a failure to calibrate between the skills being provided (high-order thinking skills) and the opportunities that await (low- to medium-skilled jobs).

This results in inefficiencies on both ends. The sentiment “I don’t really learn in school what I need in life” may sound playful and quixotic, but it is also symptomatic of poor education quality especially when that same person goes through intensive on-the-job training or capacity-building prior to starting work — an expense that is necessary but could be minimized given proper calibration.

We do have to concede some reality: it is impossible to predict what jobs and industries will drive economic growth decades from now — unless government pushes for industrial policies that aggressively shape and incentivize the emergence of particular sectors. Investments in education may be seen as one way to do that — which it is! — but similar investments should be made on the demand side as well.

Here’s a simple illustration of how this duality can work: in all the intended progressiveness of K-12, I don’t see any strand or subject that focuses on the development of Green Energy. Likewise, the energy sector as a whole is not conducive to the development of these alternative and renewable energy resources. Solar energy providers remain the cowboys of our generation, wind farms remain props for selfies, and our power rates remain among the highest in Asia as urban dwellers buy more cars that clog our cities in this current period of cheap crude. A Green Energy curriculum on its own wouldn’t work; incentives for private investment in Green Energy will take years to scale. Innovation can be spurred and shaped, but it requires action beyond the competence and domain of just the Department of Education. It will require coordination across government and between industries to spur innovation and birth a profitable, promising sector.



But given that industry can be unpredictable and uncertain, and that through the curriculum we do our best to work with what we know now to prepare our students for tomorrow, then what should our students learn? What should the curriculum emphasize and how is it operationalized in school?

In a recent report by the Asian Development Bank (ADB), A Smarter Future: Skills, Education, and Growth in Asia (2015), they find that noncognitive skills matter just as much as technical skills in preparing students for the uncertain future. (Note: This ADB report, in large part, fuels this entire piece.) By noncognitive skills they pertain to character, those ethereal set of skills that include grit, resourcefulness, creativity, and all those qualities championed by the likes of Sir Ken Robinson.

These skills are either unmentioned or understated in the DepEd’s K-12 program.

Moreover, there seems to be an undue emphasis on education as a mere means to an end — employment and work. At this juncture I agree with some analysis from our country’s political Left: that the education system is but a means to fuel the capitalist machine.


What the DepEd is short of is a vision of what the Filipino citizen must be. Sure, the K-12 can lead more to be scientists; but what kind? We can have more entrepreneurs; but what kind? We can have more plumbers, electricians, and artisans; but what kind?

It is in answering that question — what kind? — that we can somehow differentiate an Iskolar ng Bayan from an Atenista. It is in answering that question that HRM graduates from UST find jobs more easily than HRM graduates from La Salle; that you find more start-ups in Quezon City but more small businesses in the University Belt.

It is in answering that question that schools find a vision to anchor their curriculum and operations, to focus the efforts of their faculty and staff, and to direct student formation and development. But behind all the efforts of these schools to imbibe a certain quality and character in their kids is a drive to help them be successful.

Of course, we all have varying metrics for success. And insofar as the standard K-12 curriculum is concerned, the goal does seem to be employment. However, here’s the rub about the value that an emphasis on noncognitive skills brings: students who are grittier, more resourceful, more creative, more collaborative — and so on — learn faster, adapt better, and achieve more.

DepEd often says that they would like their curriculum to be more student-centric. When there is evidence to suggest that K-12 students will remain overeducated and underemployed and that the skills they need to succeed are not really emphasized in the curriculum, it becomes challenging to support the position that K-12 is student centered. It still can be, of course, but not at the moment.


K-12 is a work in progress; even the DepEd themselves readily admit to that.

In a forum at the ADB today, Asec. Jess Mateo concedes that the remaining challenge in the implementation of K-12 is the curriculum itself. Subject guides have yet to be written and resources have yet to be identified. I hope that there is a second layer to what he said: that the curriculum will undertake a constant process of study, review, and revision. And in the previous sections, I focused on the two key features of the K-12 curriculum that I take exception to; its market-readiness and student-centrism are really two sides of the same coin.

Working at the level of designing and operating schools however, there are critical questions that remain in implementing the program whole sale.

One, it is not yet clear what happens when a student decides to change strands. Senior High School essentially takes over the first two years of college — the typical period when potential shifts are mulled over and students decide to jump courses. Moreover, what happens when a student who finishes STEM decides to go into the Humanities at the University? Will the strand impede the student or not? This remains unclear.

At the level of whole divisions and provinces, we’d like to know how the fact that most Senior High Schools can be found at urban areas will impact the policy. There is a wide enough gap between the availability of schools, particularly secondary schools, between rural and urban areas that contribute to high drop off rates between elementary and high school. To complicate this is the fact that most Senior High Schools will be privately provided; while the government will provide a voucher of some sort, schools may not be ready to accept the entire cost and require public school students to pay the balance between the government voucher and the published school fees.

This can present a medium-term problem where we have a cohort of youth who are neither Senior High School students nor college students — a Lost Generation who will be denied of schooling because of a failure to access education.

And a third, incredibly frustrating aspect of this roll-out has been the vision-setting process itself from the Department of Education. While the DepEd and CHED seem to be working together now to seize the opportunity to recreate our education system as we know it, what remains to be seen is how Higher Education Institutes (HEIs) will fare once the losses start coming in this June to August of 2016. To date, private HEIs are struggling with the trade-offs required by Senior High School; whole departments are in danger due to a truncated curriculum and the inability of CHED to effectively realign resources between them and the basic education sector.

Is it time to revisit our country’s split between basic and higher education? Key to change management is putting the proper structures in place to monitor, steer, and direct change. In light of the inefficiencies that exist in having two bodies with different mandates overseeing what is essentially a single supply chain of human development, the time has come to assess the feasibility of collapsing CHED into the Department of Education. As CHED Commissioner Bautista herself says, there will be losses. At the top of my mind would be the loss of the separation between these two entities so that they may be consolidated into one strategic group.

The spirit of public education

Education, as guaranteed by the Consitution, is premised on its importance to national development. At a minimum, the Department of Education’s mission is to provide access to quality education. The Constitution provides for the possibility of the Department to both directly provide (meaning to have the competency to deliver) and to indirectly finance the education of its people (through vouchers, subsidies, grants to private entities with the competence to deliver).

What would be tragic in the shift to K-12 is if this basic mandate is lost.

There will always be debates about what our students should learn, how they learn, and why they learn. The curriculum will always be evolving as that is the nature of human knowledge itself.

What there shouldn’t be a debate about is that every student should be given a fair shot to have the education he or she needs to aspire to have a better lot in life. Above, we alluded to the danger of a Lost Generation — students who won’t be pursuing Grade 11 and who won’t be eligible for Higher Education either. This danger arises from the fact that the requirement for Basic Education has been raised by two years without accounting for the capacity of our students and families to meet those two years — especially if they will be shunted off to expensive and far-off private schools after 10 years of free public education. The barrier to access to Higher Education has also been raised, if not impossibly so. Would it be harsh to hold the reform accountable by this one metric?

Hence, my original exhortation: It’s time to get serious about K-12.

Over the coming months and years, there are boundless opportunities for everyone across the education sector — government, private providers, NGOs, start-ups, parents, students — to undertake not just a massive reform program, but an exercise in whole-system learning. In an era where there is a hunger for data and evidence, the actual implementation of K-12 will have much to offer in terms of studies, reviews, and impact assessments. We’ve heard a lot from DepEd and CHED over the past years; one last signal I’m looking for is that they’re ready to learn, pivot, and iterate.

Then will I be convinced that they are serious, too.