A popular sentiment among my friends in the Philippines is that the government is getting worse with each passing day; with this comes the belief that there is little recourse to a ‘better life’ but to leave the country.
It is easy to feel disheartened with the clear decline of political and economic progress in the Philippines since the 19th century. Under the brutal rule of the Americans in the 1920s, the Philippines was seen as one of the most progressive and advanced non-Western European colonies in the world. The expectations were raised even higher during the post-war years, when the Philippines was second to Japan as the most progressive country in Asia. Singapore, Malaysia, and South Korea—the most developed East and Southeast Asian countries as of today—were lower compared to the Philippines in terms of economic development.
There is a lot of blame to go around. Politically, many of the ruling families during the Spanish period have continued practicing their dominance over their own regions. Economically, the post-war impositions by the Americans in the early 1950s resulted in an unsustainable import substitution strategy in the 50s and a long-term reliance on the labor export in the 60s. Although the People Power Revolution in 1986 resulted in deposing the Marcos dictatorship, many have argued that the revolution barely changed the ‘system’ of politics in the country. The same ‘revolution’ was repeated in 2001, which toppled the then president Joseph Estrada, only to install Gloria Macapagal Arroyo’s excessively corrupt regime. Most recently, the highly controversial issue of the RH Bill continues to polarise the public in clear, cross-cutting cleavages, while the senators continue to throw away common sense with oppressive and vengeful laws. With all these events in the past 60 years, it’s hard to be hopeful about the Philippines. I make my case by, first, casting a shadow on doubt on quick judgements, and, second, by presenting my own perspective on change in the Philippines.
First, how do we assess the validity of change, specifically if something is turning for the better or for the worse, or is it realising how things really are? In academia, the act of assessing the current state of events is a well constructed judgment; this requires careful consideration of context and research. In other words, saying that something is ‘more effective,’ ‘better,’ or ‘worse’ is more complicated than presumed to be. In what way is it worse, terrible, or painful? In which aspect, domain, or level? Under what parameters are we assessing these changes? This is the reason why mainstream academic traditions usually require meticulous theoretical underpinnings, a clear intersubjective methodological consensus, and rigorous empirical research to specific questions. It is not easy to release a statement right away. Generalisations and mainstream principles, although useful in some situations, cannot account for the specificity and nuance of a context and become void in meaning when it comes to accounting for present changes. This is the reason why several social scientists, economists, and development experts usually use parsimonious indicators—such as the Gross National Product to assess economic development, even if there is an increasing consensus on the lack of accuracy and precision. At the same time, we live in a moving context. The world today needs to deal with dwindling energy resources, increasing climate emissions, population growth, and the multiple risks associated with modernity. None of these were present and clear 40 years ago—although, they had to deal with the threat of a mutually assured destruction, post-war reconstruction, and death. Half a century ago, Thomas Hobbes and Jean-Jacques Rousseau disagreed on the ‘state of man’ and the direction of humankind. Although we advanced rapidly, we still grapple with the same questions today.
Interesting enough, no matter how developed their country is, most people I have met believe that their country, state, or region is becoming worse. The United States continues to deal with their financial recovery, while the EU is still struggling with their own monetary issues. The dwindling economic opportunities in Australia, Canada, New Zealand, and elsewhere in the developed world fuel the anti-migratory sentiments of the far (and moderate) right. In Scandinavia, Swedish students protest the decreasing state of social welfare, while the taxation on farm stocks polarises the Norwegian Society. I am not saying that this is a matter of perception and subjectivity. People may think that things are getting worse, but in actuality, whether the country is changing for the better or for the worse is a complicated question to answer.
Second, I begin my case by asking, in what context are we assessing this change? I believe that this ‘recent’ ‘sentiment’ in the Philippines is the slow death of idealism, a phase of realisation, growth, and professionalisation. When my generation of Filipinos and I were younger, we believed in an ideal and genuine democratic change, hoped for better governance, and participated in government institutions. We thought that change was quick and easy; all the country needed was a change of government and people in power. In retrospect, we did not have to deal with the government, politics, taxes, promotions, or actual political positions in professional settings—we did not have to because our parents did, and we were largely shielded from these realities by the walls of our schools. However, we eventually graduated from our universities, grew from our youthful penchant for quick solutions, and now, we have come to face ‘real’ life in the Philippines. Businesses need connections to the patronage system to gain market share, government employees rely on a patronage system for promotion, and academics are busy protecting their own turf (to my personal experience). The popular sentiment of my generation is simply an issue of realising that things are what they have always been—also known as embedded institutions, people, practices, and networks.
Indeed, institutional theorists argue that institutions are extremely sticky—slow to change, and even if they do, the change is incremental and follow the same path as before. The judgment that the government is becoming worse is a matter of perception, but not actuality even if actuality does exist. The judgment that one’s life is turning for the better or for the worse is a more empirical and sound judgment that should be separated from judging the state of affairs of an bigger entity. One thing is true. My generation and I were shielded from these realities and now that we have (sort of) grown up, we come to realise what the situation really is.
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