There was a time when I believed that if two honest people met, possessed the necessary qualifications, shared the same vision, and entered into a fair agreement, a business transaction would naturally succeed. I thought competence was enough. I believed that sincerity, professionalism, and mutual trust would carry a project from the drawing board to reality.
I was wrong.
Over the years, whether in government, the private sector, academia, or public service, I have witnessed transactions that had every reason to succeed suddenly collapse—not because the parties lacked the capability, not because the proposal was technically unsound, and certainly not because the opportunity had no value. Instead, they slowly died because too many people, who were never supposed to be part of the transaction in the first place, wanted to earn from it.
That realization disturbed me.
It made me realize that one of the greatest enemies of national development is not always found in newspaper headlines, Senate investigations, or court decisions. Sometimes, corruption wears a smile. It introduces itself politely. It shakes your hand. It tells you, “Ako ang bahala.” It whispers, “Kilala ko ang tamang tao.” And before you even realize it, the transaction is no longer about creating value. It has become about dividing commissions.
This is the hidden economy that many Filipinos rarely talk about.
Sa tuwing may magandang proyekto, tila may mga taong bigla na lamang sumusulpot. Hindi sila investor. Hindi sila engineer. Hindi sila accountant. Hindi sila abogado. Hindi sila ang gagawa ng feasibility study. Hindi sila ang magde-deliver ng proyekto. Wala silang inilalabas na puhunan. Hindi rin sila ang sasalo sa panganib kapag nalugi ang negosyo.
Ngunit sila ang unang nagtatanong, “Magkano ang parte ko?”
That single question has probably destroyed more opportunities than most people realize.
Many assume that overpriced government projects exist simply because contractors are greedy. While there are certainly dishonest contractors, I have also seen situations where companies are forced to include unnecessary costs simply because so many individuals surrounding the transaction expect to receive a share. Every additional commission becomes another layer of cost. Every middleman adds another burden. Every unnecessary “facilitator” pushes the price even higher.
Sa bawat patong, lumiit nang lumiit ang pondong tunay na napupunta sa proyekto.
What should have been invested in stronger roads, better flood-control systems, improved public facilities, or higher-quality materials slowly disappears into commissions that produce absolutely no value for the Filipino people.
The saddest part is that the public rarely sees this.
Kapag may overpricing, contractor agad ang sinisisi. Kapag mababa ang kalidad ng proyekto, ang engineer ang unang tinuturo. Ngunit bihira nating tanungin kung ilan ba ang dumaan sa transaksyon bago pa man nagsimula ang proyekto. Ilan ang humingi ng porsiyento? Ilan ang nagsabing sila ang “nagpasok” ng proyekto? Ilan ang nagpakilala lamang ngunit parang gusto nang maging kasosyo sa kita?
These are uncomfortable questions.
Yet they deserve honest answers.
Unfortunately, this culture is no longer confined to government.
I have seen the same practice in private business.
There were opportunities where two competent parties genuinely wanted to establish a partnership. Both sides had something valuable to contribute. The discussions were productive. The vision was clear. The future looked promising.
Then, slowly, the noise began.
Someone would say, “Ako ang nagpakilala.”
Another would say, “Hindi mangyayari ito kung wala ako.”
Then another would ask for a percentage.
Then another.
Until the transaction became so burdened with unnecessary demands that everyone started questioning whether the project was still worth pursuing.
What began as a business venture gradually transformed into an exercise in satisfying the expectations of people who contributed little beyond making introductions.
That is not entrepreneurship.
That is not value creation.
That is the commercialization of influence.
One experience remains deeply etched in my memory.
I once encountered the bodyguard of a high-ranking general who sincerely believed he deserved to benefit from another person’s success because he had introduced that individual to someone influential years earlier. In his mind, that single introduction entitled him to continue profiting from whatever opportunities followed.
I remember listening quietly.
Hindi ako galit.
Nalungkot ako.
Because at that very moment, I realized how deeply this culture had already penetrated our society.
Kapag ang simpleng pagpapakilala ay nagiging habambuhay na investment, may mali na sa ating pagtingin sa tagumpay.
Kapag ang bawat accomplishment ng ibang tao ay nakikita bilang pagkakataong pagkakitaan, nawawala ang tunay na kahulugan ng sipag, tiyaga, at kakayahan.
Success should inspire others.
It should not become somebody else’s perpetual commission.
Perhaps this is why many honest investors eventually walk away.
Perhaps this is why many capable entrepreneurs choose not to pursue otherwise promising opportunities.
Perhaps this is why some of our best ideas never leave the conference table.
Not because Filipinos lack talent.
Not because we lack brilliant engineers, visionary entrepreneurs, competent professionals, or innovative thinkers.
But because somewhere between the handshake and the signing of the agreement, too many people begin asking for something they never truly earned.
As I grew older, I stopped seeing corruption merely as the stealing of public funds.
I began seeing it as something far more subtle.
It begins when people believe they deserve rewards without creating proportional value.
It begins when influence becomes more profitable than competence.
It begins when relationships become commodities instead of responsibilities.
And perhaps, more painfully, it begins the moment we stop asking, “How can I help this project succeed?” and start asking, “How much can I earn from it?”
That, for me, is where the soul of corruption quietly begins.
The more I reflected on these experiences, the more I realized that corruption is not always born inside government offices. It does not always begin with the signing of a contract, the release of public funds, or the award of a procurement project. Sometimes, corruption begins much earlier—inside the human heart. It begins when we convince ourselves that merely knowing someone, introducing someone, or standing close to someone in power automatically entitles us to a share of something we never built.
That is a dangerous mindset.
Because once that mentality becomes acceptable, it spreads like a silent virus. Hindi na lamang ito tungkol sa isang proyekto o isang negosyo. Unti-unti nitong binabago ang kultura ng isang bansa. Ang mga kabataan ay lumalaking iniisip na hindi na mahalaga kung gaano ka kagaling. Ang mahalaga ay kung sino ang kakilala mo. Hindi na mahalaga ang husay. Ang mahalaga ay ang koneksiyon.
As an educator for many years, I have always told my students that knowledge, competence, and character should always travel together. Intelligence without integrity is dangerous. Power without accountability is destructive. Success without character is temporary. Yet I sometimes wonder how difficult it is for young Filipinos to believe these principles when the world around them appears to reward influence more than excellence.
Imagine a young engineer who dreams of building roads that will last for generations. He studies hard. He passes the board examination. He dedicates himself to becoming one of the best in his profession. But when he finally enters the real world, he discovers that technical competence alone is sometimes not enough. Around every transaction are people who have nothing to do with engineering but expect compensation simply because they know somebody.
How discouraging that must be.
Imagine a young entrepreneur who risks his savings to establish a company. He borrows money, mortgages his property, hires employees, pays taxes, and carries the burden of uncertainty every single day. Then, before his project can even move forward, people begin asking for commissions despite assuming none of the financial risks.
Is that fair?
The investor carries the risk.
The workers perform the labor.
The professionals provide the expertise.
Yet someone who contributes little beyond an introduction demands a reward almost equal to—or sometimes even greater than—the people who built the entire opportunity.
There is something profoundly unjust about that.
Perhaps this explains why many foreign investors hesitate before expanding into countries where informal commission networks become part of the business environment. Investors seek predictability. They understand taxes because taxes are established by law. They understand professional fees because expertise deserves compensation. What discourages investment is uncertainty—the possibility that hidden costs, unofficial demands, or unnecessary intermediaries may emerge after negotiations have already begun.
Every nation competes for investment.
But investment does not flourish where integrity becomes optional.
Investment flourishes where trust becomes culture.
That is why I believe the greatest infrastructure we must build is not made of steel, concrete, or asphalt.
It is trust.
Without trust, contracts become meaningless.
Without trust, every signature becomes suspect.
Without trust, even the best policies remain beautiful words printed on paper.
This is where I find myself returning to a principle I have written about repeatedly in my work on Integritocracy.
Integrity is not merely the absence of corruption.
Integrity is the presence of moral courage.
It is choosing not to ask for what you did not earn.
It is refusing to profit from influence alone.
It is understanding that introducing two people may deserve appreciation, but not lifelong entitlement over another person’s success.
Some may disagree with me.
Some may argue that this is simply how business works. Others will say that commissions have always existed and always will. Perhaps they are right to a certain extent. There are legitimate referral fees, brokerage arrangements, agency relationships, and consulting engagements that are openly negotiated and proportionate to the actual value provided. Those have a proper place in commerce.
But there is a profound difference between legitimate professional compensation and opportunistic rent-seeking.
The first creates value.
The second merely extracts value.
That distinction matters.
As a nation, we must learn to recognize the difference.
Otherwise, we will continue producing projects that cost billions but deliver millions.
We will continue celebrating investments while quietly accepting waste.
We will continue wondering why development feels so slow despite enormous public spending.
Perhaps the real question is no longer how many projects we approve each year.
Perhaps the better question is this:
How much of every peso truly reaches the Filipino people?
If too many hands take their share before the work even begins, the project is already compromised long before the first shovel touches the ground.
I still believe in the goodness of the Filipino.
I still believe that our country is blessed with brilliant professionals, ethical public servants, honest entrepreneurs, and ordinary citizens who simply want to build a better future for their children.
That is why I continue writing.
Not because I expect to change the entire system overnight.
But because every meaningful reform begins with changing the way people think.
If this article convinces even one person to stop asking, “May parte ba ako diyan?” and instead ask, “Paano ako makakatulong?”, then perhaps it has already served its purpose.
For the future of our nation will never be secured by the number of contracts we sign, the size of our budgets, or the height of our buildings.
It will be secured by something far more valuable.
The day we learn that the greatest profit we can leave to the next generation is not money, influence, or commissions—but integrity.
Because when integrity becomes our greatest investment, the dividends will never belong to one person alone.
They will belong to the Republic itself.
Dear Reader,
I invite you to explore my complete collection of published books now available on Amazon. Whether you are seeking in-depth analysis, strategic insights, or engaging narratives, my catalog covers a range of essential topics designed to inform, inspire, and provoke thoughtful discussion.
You can browse all my current titles, read excerpts, and order your copies directly through my official Amazon Author Page:
Click this Image to View:
Thank you for your continued support and interest in my work. If you enjoy any of the titles, leaving a review on Amazon would be greatly appreciated as it helps bring these ideas to a broader audience.
Warm regards,
*About the author:
