Zaldy Co as Diversion: A Political Analysis of Senate-Focused Scandal and Smokescreens

 *Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD, DM

 

Introduction: A Scripted Noise in a Chaotic Democracy

 

In political strategy, diversions are not mere coincidences—they are weapons. The abrupt public appearance of House Appropriations Chair Zaldy Co, issuing a sensational confession implicating himself and others in budget manipulations, comes at a moment too convenient to ignore. Just as DPWH Undersecretary Roberto Bernardo was delivering a second testimony naming high-ranking senators in a deeper budget racket, Co took the stage—figuratively and literally—to shift the national narrative.

 

This is not unfamiliar to political observers. In fact, it follows a long-documented tactic used in crisis governance: “strategic deflection” or the “noise grenade,” wherein lesser scandals are inflated to bury larger ones (McGraw, 2019; Ziblatt & Levitsky, 2018).

 

Usec. Bernardo’s Bombshell: Senate Names Surface

 

Undersecretary Bernardo, in a follow-up exposé, directly named Senators Mark Villar, Grace Poe, and Chiz Escudero in what he described as kickback-fueled insertion machinery inside the DPWH budget system (Bernardo, 2025). He detailed how:

• These Senate insertions funded flood-control and multi-regional infrastructure projects, many of which were later flagged for anomalies.
• Contractors linked to senators allegedly coordinated with DPWH insiders to ensure approval of specific projects.
• The 2025 General Appropriations Act became a vehicle for funneling public funds through “earmarked” yet technically and ethically compromised insertions (Commission on Audit [COA], 2024).

 

This narrative directly challenges the prevailing notion that the House of Representatives is the sole culprit in the corruption chain. It exposes the Senate’s active involvement and control of the bicameral processes, especially via Senator Escudero’s budget oversight roles (Senate of the Philippines, 2024).

 

The Media Diversion: A Tactical Timeline

 

A timeline of events reveals a precision-crafted distraction:

1. Bernardo’s second testimony publicly implicates sitting senators.
2. Mainstream media begins to probe Senate insertions and questionable bicam negotiations.
3. Within hours, Zaldy Co delivers a “confession” to the media, redirecting public discourse toward FLRs and the Executive’s involvement.

 

This follows the logic of political “agenda-setting theory” (McCombs & Shaw, 1972), where attention is manipulated not necessarily by suppressing stories, but by flooding the space with louder ones.

 

The strategy is eerily similar to known “decoy operations” in politics, where a smaller scandal is timed and released to suppress the echo of a bigger one (Entman, 2007).

 

Senate Insertions and the Escudero-Co Axis

 

Evidence has now pointed to a bicam insertion scheme allegedly orchestrated by a Co–Escudero axis:

• Both were major bicameral negotiators for the 2025 national budget (Philippine Daily Inquirer, 2025).
• Both are linked to contractor networks who won controversial DPWH projects (COA, 2024).
• Both synchronized their narratives post-scandal—Co speaking, Escudero strategically silent.

 

Such alignment of budget influence and political narrative suggests not just corruption, but coordinated institutional deception.

 

Political scholars have warned that budgetary capture by political elites is one of the strongest symptoms of systemic democratic erosion (Diamond, 2019).

 

The Presidential Stand: A Case for Non-Involvement

 

Amid this controversy, President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. appears to have exercised institutional restraint:

• He vetoed questionable fund releases in the 2025 GAA (Official Gazette, 2025).
• He refused to reverse his FLR policy, despite Congressional pressure (Presidential Communications Office, 2025).
• He has not been named in any corruption whistleblower report—formal or informal.

 

The President’s refusal to bend aligns with executive accountability principles in public administration: the use of veto power to ensure fiscal integrity (Rosenbloom et al., 2021). That he stands isolated in this scandal—unlike the senators—further deepens suspicion that diversion efforts are intended to protect the legislative elite, not the Palace.

 

Smokescreen Politics: Zaldy as the Fall Guy

 

Zaldy Co’s confession has gained traction, but for the wrong reasons. He appears not as a whistleblower, but a convenient proxy for collective guilt—one who absorbs media attention while deflecting scrutiny away from the more powerful.

 

Political theorist Murray Edelman (1988) coined this tactic as “symbolic reassurance,” where sacrificial figures are presented to maintain public trust in larger institutions.

 

The danger here is that the system uses controlled confessions to prevent real accountability—a strategy well-documented in authoritarian-leaning democracies where legislative corruption is systemic (Schedler, 2006).

 

Conclusion: The Senate Cannot Hide Behind Co

 

At the heart of this crisis is not Zaldy Co’s confession—but the Senate’s fingerprints on anomalous budgetary insertions. The public should not be lured into chasing the noise while ignoring the direction of the smoke.

 

Co is not the bomb.

He is the smokescreen.

The real explosion has already happened—within the Senate halls.

 

 

References

 

Bernardo, R. (2025). Testimony before the Senate Blue Ribbon Committee on DPWH anomalies [Unpublished transcript].

Commission on Audit (COA). (2024). Annual audit report: Department of Public Works and Highways. Retrieved from https://www.coa.gov.ph

Diamond, L. (2019). Ill Winds: Saving Democracy from Russian Rage, Chinese Ambition, and American Complacency. Penguin Press.

Edelman, M. (1988). Constructing the Political Spectacle. University of Chicago Press.

Entman, R. M. (2007). Framing Bias: Media in the Distribution of Power. Journal of Communication, 57(1), 163–173. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1460-2466.2006.00336.x

McCombs, M., & Shaw, D. L. (1972). The agenda-setting function of mass media. Public Opinion Quarterly, 36(2), 176–187.

McGraw, K. M. (2019). Political Scandals and Public Responses: Agenda-setting, Blame Management, and Moral Outrage. Annual Review of Political Science, 22, 273–289.

Official Gazette. (2025). Presidential veto message on the 2025 General Appropriations Act. Retrieved from https://www.officialgazette.gov.ph

Philippine Daily Inquirer. (2025, November 12). DPWH Usec implicates senators in budget insertion kickbacks. https://www.inquirer.net

Presidential Communications Office. (2025). Press release: Marcos affirms non-intervention in budget allocations. Retrieved from https://pco.gov.ph

Rosenbloom, D. H., Kravchuk, R. S., & Clerkin, R. M. (2021). Public Administration: Understanding Management, Politics, and Law in the Public Sector (9th ed.). McGraw-Hill Education.

Schedler, A. (2006). Electoral Authoritarianism: The Dynamics of Unfree Competition. Lynne Rienner Publishers.

Senate of the Philippines. (2024). Bicam Proceedings on the 2025 National Budget [Session records]. Retrieved from https://www.senate.gov.ph

Ziblatt, D., & Levitsky, S. (2018). How Democracies Die. Crown Publishing Group.

 ____

 *About the author:

Dr. Rodolfo “John” Ortiz Teope is a distinguished Filipino academic, public intellectual, and advocate for civic education and public safety, whose work spans local academies and international security circles. With a career rooted in teaching, research, policy, and public engagement, he bridges theory and practice by making meaningful contributions to academic discourse, civic education, and public policy. Dr. Teope is widely respected for his critical scholarship in education, management, economics, doctrine development, and public safety; his grassroots involvement in government and non-government organizations; his influential media presence promoting democratic values and civic consciousness; and his ethical leadership grounded in Filipino nationalism and public service. As a true public intellectual, he exemplifies how research, advocacy, governance, and education can work together in pursuit of the nation’s moral and civic mission.

VIEWS: 840K

When the Heart Finally Breaks: Zaldy Co, the INC Rally, and a Nation Tired of Being Fooled

 *Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD, DM

It seems that I don’t know what to believe now, when there are hands shaking the jar and the truth scatters like confused ants—running in every direction, unsure of what is real. These days, I feel like I’m standing in the middle of a storm of statements, denials, accusations, explanations… and none of them feel sincere. None of them feel clean. Every word from anyone in power feels like it was washed first, filtered, polished, rehearsed, then delivered with trembling lips pretending to be firm.

 

And then Zaldy Co spoke—and the world seemed to tilt again.

The brown leather bag.

The alleged 100 billion pesos list.

The meeting inside Malacañang.

Names that once carried the weight of respect now tangled in the very web they promised to tear down.

 

I watched that video with a heaviness I cannot describe.

It was not anger.

It was not shock.

It was grief.

 

Grief because the betrayal feels so familiar.

Grief because the faces change, but the corruption feels the same.

Grief because we are again living inside a nightmare we have already escaped before—only to be dragged back into it.

 

And when the Iglesia Ni Cristo announced its rally for November 16 to 18, I felt something shift deep inside me. Because the INC does not stand lightly. When they step into the public square, it is not for noise. It is not for clout. It is not for self-interest. It is because conscience has become louder than comfort. Because patience has been stretched to its limits. Because even silence begins to feel sinful.

 

But behind this quiet courage lies a fear I cannot ignore.

 

There are people watching—waiting like vultures circling a wounded nation.

People who smell opportunity in chaos.

People who want power, not justice.

 

While the INC stands for accountability, these groups stand for ambition.

While INC members pray for clarity, these actors pray for a power vacuum.

While the people cling to hope, these political opportunists cling to their own agendas.

 

This is the danger.

Not the rally.

Not the INC.

Not the outcry for truth.

 

The danger is the ones who will use Zaldy Co’s revelations like a crowbar to pry open Malacañang for themselves.

 

And yet—despite these shadows—the Filipino people remain clear in their hearts:

 

We are not thinking about who will replace PBBM.

We are not choosing between President or Vice President.

We are not dreaming of coups or power shifts or “new saviors.”

 

We are simply longing for accountability—no matter where it leads.

 

If it points to the President, so be it.

If it points to the Vice President, so be it.

If it points to remnants of past administrations, so be it.

 

Walang pinipili ang taong sugatan.

Ang hinihingi lang namin ay katotohanan.

 

Because we are tired—God knows how tired we are.

 

Tired of the political time loop trapping this country like a curse.

Tired of seeing leaders rise like hope and fall like disappointments.

Tired of hearing promises that become jokes.

Tired of voting with hope only to wake up with regret.

 

Every election, we tell ourselves, “This time, maybe this time…”

But every election, we end up whispering, “Budol na naman tayo.”

 

It hurts, deeply, painfully, because we want to believe.

We want to trust.

We want to feel proud.

We want a leader we don’t have to explain or defend or excuse.

 

But instead, we end up explaining away our heartbreak.

We end up defending the indefensible.

We end up excusing behavior that wounds us again and again.

 

And so the INC rally becomes more than a protest—it becomes therapy for a wounded nation.

A moment for people to breathe.

To stand.

To say, “This is wrong. This cannot continue. Hindi na kami papayag na budol ulit.”

 

I imagine the INC members walking in calm lines, disciplined, principled, united—not shouting slogans, not seeking to overthrow, but simply standing there with their presence speaking louder than any megaphone:

 

ENOUGH.

Enough corruption.

Enough deception.

Enough political drama disguised as governance.

 

I imagine the quiet heartbreak in every INC member’s eyes.

The heartbreak of loving this country too deeply.

The heartbreak of watching leaders play with power while ordinary Filipinos drown in the consequences.

 

This rally is not a rebellion.

It is a plea.

A plea for truth.

A plea for dignity.

A plea for decency.

 

And if Zaldy Co is lying, then let justice expose him.

If he is telling the truth, then let justice climb up the ladder—even if it reaches the highest floors of power.

 

But most of all, let this be the last time the nation whispers,

“Budol na naman kami.”

 

Let this be the moment we finally say,

“Hinding-hindi na.”

 

Even if the jar is shaking.

Even if truth feels foggy.

Even if politicians tremble.

 

The Filipino people are standing—quietly, peacefully, emotionally—but standing nonetheless.

 

And when the people stand like this…

with broken hearts but unbroken resolve…

power itself begins to fear

 ____

 *About the author:

Dr. Rodolfo “John” Ortiz Teope is a distinguished Filipino academic, public intellectual, and advocate for civic education and public safety, whose work spans local academies and international security circles. With a career rooted in teaching, research, policy, and public engagement, he bridges theory and practice by making meaningful contributions to academic discourse, civic education, and public policy. Dr. Teope is widely respected for his critical scholarship in education, management, economics, doctrine development, and public safety; his grassroots involvement in government and non-government organizations; his influential media presence promoting democratic values and civic consciousness; and his ethical leadership grounded in Filipino nationalism and public service. As a true public intellectual, he exemplifies how research, advocacy, governance, and education can work together in pursuit of the nation’s moral and civic mission.

VIEWS: 422K

THE HIDDEN HANDS WITHIN: RESIDUAL NETWORKS AND ORGANIZED CRIME INFILTRATION

 *Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD, DM

In the course of my research on organized crime and institutional integrity, I came to understand a reality that many textbooks only hint at but rarely capture with full accuracy: corruption inside an anti-crime institution is never merely a failure of ethics. It is a failure of architecture—of how institutions carry their past into their present, and how remnants of previous leaderships can quietly shape the future long after they have formally stepped aside.

My fieldwork and institutional observations revealed that transitions in leadership do not erase old loyalties, habits, and networks. They simply rearrange them. While new directives are issued from the top, the deeper life of the institution—its unwritten rules, its informal loyalties, its personal debts—continues to operate beneath formal structures. This is where the real vulnerabilities emerge. These residual networks, forged during earlier administrations, do not dissolve when leadership changes; instead, they recalibrate themselves within the new landscape, preserving their influence through individuals who remain in key operational posts.

Humanizing this phenomenon requires acknowledging that many of these individuals do not necessarily act with malicious intent. Some are shaped by years of proximity to power. Others have built careers and reputations under a previous leadership and continue to navigate the institution according to the same logic that once guided them. But these personal histories—and the loyalties that accompany them—become dangerous when criminal enterprises find ways to align themselves with these informal networks.

During my research on POGO-associated criminal activities, cyber-scam hubs, drug trafficking routes, and human trafficking schemes, I repeatedly encountered anomalies that pointed to the presence of internal protection. Certain criminal hubs exhibited resilience that could not be explained by operational skill alone. Targets appeared to anticipate raids. Intelligence reports showed inconsistencies that were too patterned to be accidental. Case build-ups weakened at critical moments, often in ways that were administrative rather than investigative: delayed documentation, questionable downgrading of charges, and unexpected clearance of individuals previously identified as high-risk.

As I analyzed these incidents through theoretical frameworks, it became clear that what I was witnessing matched classical descriptions of state capture and bureaucratic subversion. But because I had observed these patterns up close, I could also see the human dimension behind them. These were not abstract theories unfolding in a vacuum. These were real officers, real decision-makers, real intermediaries whose personal relationships and professional histories intersected with criminal organizations seeking state protection.

The most troubling realization in my research was that organized crime does not need to overpower a state institution to compromise it. It only needs to find the cracks already present. It capitalizes on internal fragmentation, past loyalties, and the persistence of informal channels of authority. When remnants of previous leadership hold influence over target selection, case validation, and inter-agency coordination, criminal groups gain access to an invisible shield—one built not through overt conspiracy, but through the subtle reactivation of old networks operating inside the institution.

Throughout this work, I struggled with the unsettling contrast between the commitment of many officers and the quiet sabotage committed by a few. Even as dedicated operatives pursued cases with integrity, the presence of residual networks created conditions where their efforts could be undermined without their knowledge. This duality—the coexistence of genuine service and institutional distortion—became a recurring theme in both my field observations and analytical findings.

The human cost of this distortion became especially clear in the context of human trafficking. In interviews with victims rescued from exploitation, a painful pattern emerged: the people they expected to protect them were sometimes the same people whose inaction prolonged their suffering. When internal actors weaken enforcement, the consequence is not merely institutional inefficiency. It is human devastation. It is the continuation of exploitation that could have been stopped. It is the protection of offenders at the expense of the vulnerable.

Reflecting on these findings, I realized that institutional reform cannot be reduced to the replacement of personnel or the issuance of new policies. It requires confronting the institution’s own memory—its informal power structures, its unresolved loyalties, and the networks that linger long after official transitions. It requires leadership that understands how corruption embeds itself not only in transactions, but in relationships. It requires scholars and practitioners to look beyond surface explanations and engage with the deeper sociological mechanisms that enable criminal infiltration.

What my research ultimately taught me is that institutions have shadows. They are cast by past leadership, carried by individuals who remain, and extended by criminal groups who learn to operate within those shadows. Yet the presence of these shadows is not a reason for cynicism; it is a call for clarity. It is a reminder that institutional integrity must be actively cultivated, not assumed. And it emphasizes that vigilance must be directed not only outward, toward criminal syndicates, but inward, toward the subtle processes that allow those syndicates to survive.

In writing this commentary, I return to one central insight from my research: the fight against organized crime is not only a struggle against external threats. It is also a struggle against the invisible forces within our own institutions—the remnants of the past that must be understood, confronted, and ultimately transformed if genuine reform is to take place.

 ____

 *About the author:

Dr. Rodolfo “John” Ortiz Teope is a distinguished Filipino academic, public intellectual, and advocate for civic education and public safety, whose work spans local academies and international security circles. With a career rooted in teaching, research, policy, and public engagement, he bridges theory and practice by making meaningful contributions to academic discourse, civic education, and public policy. Dr. Teope is widely respected for his critical scholarship in education, management, economics, doctrine development, and public safety; his grassroots involvement in government and non-government organizations; his influential media presence promoting democratic values and civic consciousness; and his ethical leadership grounded in Filipino nationalism and public service. As a true public intellectual, he exemplifies how research, advocacy, governance, and education can work together in pursuit of the nation’s moral and civic mission.

VIEWS: 620K

Fixing Is a Crime: Stop Corruption at the Source

 *Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD, DM

 

 

It often begins with a whisper — a quiet assurance, a friendly offer, a text message that says, “Sir, kaya ko ‘yan ayusin.” For many, it sounds harmless, even helpful. But that whisper is where corruption starts to breathe. That simple promise to “fix” something in government — whether a permit, an appointment, a bidding, or a case — is the first crack in the wall of integrity that holds our Republic together.

Fixing is the commercialization of influence. It is any act, by a public officer or private individual, that manipulates a government process, decision, or outcome in exchange for money, favor, or personal gain. It includes asking money so someone can be appointed to a government position. It includes paying to shorten a process that should go through legal scrutiny. It includes demanding payment for instant accreditation, and it includes scripting or predetermining the outcome of a government bidding so that there is a guaranteed winner. It includes bribing a court officer or judge to manipulate a case in the Judiciary. And it includes the unseen hand that pays lobbyists and middlemen to delay, water down, or kill a proposed law in Congress.

Fixing is not just an act of corruption — it is a system of betrayal. It eats every branch of government, from the smallest municipal office to the most powerful institutions of justice and legislation.

The flood control scandal that recently rocked the nation is a painful example. Behind the billions lost and the useless projects that worsened our flooding is not just greed — it is systematic fixing. Projects were pre-arranged, bidding results were scripted, and suppliers were handpicked long before the public bidding even began. Middlemen and brokers pretended to “connect” contractors to officials, collecting their commissions before a single bag of cement was poured. Documents were fast-tracked not because of efficiency but because of payoff. The tragedy is that what was supposed to control floods ended up drowning the people in corruption.

That scandal was not a single act of theft — it was fixing institutionalized. It was a conspiracy of shortcuts disguised as progress. And that is precisely why the Philippines needs a law that calls it by its true name: the Anti-Government Fixing Act.

This law must make fixing an independent and serious crime. It must treat every attempt to manipulate a government transaction — whether in the Executive, the Judiciary, or the Legislature — as a betrayal of the Constitution itself. The crime must not only punish those who receive money but also those who offer, solicit, or broker it. Even the attempt to fix, the whisper of promise, or the offer of connection must already be punishable. And the penalty must reflect the gravity of the act — for those who fix justice, positions, and laws do not simply commit corruption; they commit treason against the public trust.

But beyond punishment, the nation must attack the roots. Fixing thrives where inefficiency and desperation meet. Citizens pay fixers because they have lost faith in the system. The cure is not only fear of imprisonment but restoration of trust. Processes must be transparent, digitalized, and trackable. Permits, contracts, and case statuses must be accessible online. When systems are clear and timelines are predictable, fixers lose their customers.

We must also protect the brave. Whistleblowers who expose fixers, whether in government offices or the private sector, should not be left unguarded. They must be given protection, anonymity, and reward. Like the “Operation Private Eye” of anti-drug agencies, a similar reward system can be used to catch fixers in action. If citizens can profit from reporting corruption instead of committing it, we change the culture of silence into a culture of vigilance.

And reform must reach beyond laws and systems — it must reach the conscience. We must teach integrity not just as a word but as a way of life. From schools to seminars, from barangay halls to boardrooms, we must redefine diskarte. True diskarte is not finding ways around the law but finding ways to uphold it with honor.

I have seen the faces of those who suffered from fixers — the poor man who paid to hasten a permit that never came, the businesswoman whose legitimate bid was lost to prearranged winners, the litigant whose case was bought by another party, and the reformer whose proposed bill was buried by paid influence. And I have seen the faces of the fixers themselves — smiling in luxury, proud of their “connections,” never realizing that every peso they earned came from someone else’s humiliation.

Fixing is not efficiency. It is treachery. It is the quiet murder of justice, the invisible sabotage of democracy, and the reason why corruption feels unstoppable. The flood control scandal, the rigged appointments, the bought verdicts — they are not separate crimes but different verses of the same national tragedy called fixing.

It is time to end this culture of whisper and exchange. The day we criminalize fixing in all its forms — from the barangay level to the halls of power — is the day we reclaim honor in governance. When no one can buy a decision, purchase a post, or bury a law, then the Republic will finally be able to breathe again.

Let us call fixing what it truly is — a crime not just against government, but against the Filipino people. And let us stop pretending that shortcuts lead to progress, because every shortcut paid for by corruption is a detour toward collapse.

When fixing ends, the flood of corruption will finally subside — and the nation, cleansed of its own mud, will stand tall once more.

 _____

 *About the author:

Dr. Rodolfo “John” Ortiz Teope is a distinguished Filipino academic, public intellectual, and advocate for civic education and public safety, whose work spans local academies and international security circles. With a career rooted in teaching, research, policy, and public engagement, he bridges theory and practice by making meaningful contributions to academic discourse, civic education, and public policy. Dr. Teope is widely respected for his critical scholarship in education, management, economics, doctrine development, and public safety; his grassroots involvement in government and non-government organizations; his influential media presence promoting democratic values and civic consciousness; and his ethical leadership grounded in Filipino nationalism and public service. As a true public intellectual, he exemplifies how research, advocacy, governance, and education can work together in pursuit of the nation’s moral and civic mission.

VIEWS: 224K

When Shame Disappears, Integrity Dies: The Lost Art of Delicadeza in Government Transition

 *Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD, DM

There was a time when delicadeza was the silent backbone of government service. A time when even without being told, a person knew what was right—to step down, to apologize, to withdraw when trust had shifted. Today, that virtue seems to be dying. We live in an era where many public officials, especially those holding co-terminous positions, refuse to leave office even after the one who appointed them has already resigned or been replaced. They stay on, pretending not to understand what co-terminous truly means.

In truth, a co-terminous position is not ownership—it is borrowed trust. It exists only because someone in authority, such as a President, Secretary, Ombudsman, Undersecretary or Executive Director, placed confidence in your loyalty and competence. When that authority departs, the moral contract ends as well. Yet sadly, what we often see today are officials who cling to their desks as if the position were their birthright. They hope to be absorbed, they pull strings, they seek political intervention, and they lobby just to remain in place.

It is pitiful—and shameful. These are the people we often describe in the Filipino way as makapal ang mukha—thick-faced, insensitive to ethics, and immune to shame. They forget that in public service, the most honorable exit is the one you take voluntarily. When a new head of an agency or department arrives, it should be automatic for all co-terminous appointees to file their courtesy resignations. It is not something that must be demanded. It is something that must come from within—from delicadeza, from respect, and from understanding the boundaries of trust.

A person with hiya—with a sense of shame—knows when his time is up. Shame is not a sign of weakness; it is the conscience of integrity. It tells us that staying beyond our moral right is a form of disrespect—not only to our new superior, but to the very institution we claim to serve. Those who have no shame cannot have integrity, because shame is what keeps us grounded in humility. It is the voice that says, “I have served my time, and now I must give way.”

When officials without delicadeza cling to their posts, they betray not only their appointing authority but the spirit of public service itself. They make it difficult for new leaders to form their own teams, to choose people they can trust, and to start fresh. It becomes a vicious cycle—one of entitlement, manipulation, and misplaced loyalty. And in that process, our bureaucracy loses its moral clarity.

The government is not a place for people who cannot let go. Public office is a public trust, and trust expires with the one who gave it. To file a courtesy resignation upon the departure of one’s superior is not a favor—it is a duty. It is the ultimate act of ethics, of respect, and of discipline.

Those who cannot do this, those who choose to cling, expose their true colors. They are not servants of the Republic—they are servants of themselves. They may call it loyalty, but it is loyalty twisted by self-interest. And in the end, they prove one thing: that when delicadeza dies, integrity dies with it.

Public service is never about staying—it is about serving. And sometimes, the greatest service we can give is to step aside with dignity, allowing the institution to breathe anew. To those who know this truth, resignation is not the end—it is the beginning of respect. But to those makapal ang mukha, who no longer know the meaning of shame, they may keep their chairs, but they will never again keep their honor.

 _____

 *About the author:

Dr. Rodolfo “John” Ortiz Teope is a distinguished Filipino academic, public intellectual, and advocate for civic education and public safety, whose work spans local academies and international security circles. With a career rooted in teaching, research, policy, and public engagement, he bridges theory and practice by making meaningful contributions to academic discourse, civic education, and public policy. Dr. Teope is widely respected for his critical scholarship in education, management, economics, doctrine development, and public safety; his grassroots involvement in government and non-government organizations; his influential media presence promoting democratic values and civic consciousness; and his ethical leadership grounded in Filipino nationalism and public service. As a true public intellectual, he exemplifies how research, advocacy, governance, and education can work together in pursuit of the nation’s moral and civic mission.

VIEWS: 354K