Amendment vs. Insertion in the Bicameral Conference Committee

*Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD

I have often been asked: “Doc Jhan, what really is the difference between an amendment and an insertion in the budget?” The words may sound technical, buried in legislative jargon, but the difference is huge—so huge that one means transparency, while the other often hides in the shadows.

When lawmakers amend the budget during the bicameral conference committee, it is usually clear, deliberate, and openly discussed. An amendment is like a teacher correcting a student’s test paper—adding points where they are deserved, changing answers where there were mistakes, and making sure the final grade reflects fairness. It is within the rules. Everyone sees it. Everyone knows it happened. An amendment is visible, part of the natural process of making laws, and it respects both the spirit and the letter of the Constitution.

On the other hand, an insertion is different. Insertions are often done quietly, sometimes at the dead of night, when the public eye is turned away. An insertion is like slipping an extra item into your grocery bag without going through the cashier. It is money added after the budgeting process has been completed, often benefiting only a few. Unlike amendments, insertions are not meant to correct errors or improve the budget for the nation—they are often crafted to satisfy personal, political, or regional interests. This is why we hear of “pork barrel” projects, ghost flood-control programs, or billions suddenly allocated to obscure road networks with no real public consultation.

To make it simpler, imagine a family sitting together to plan the household budget for the week. They agree to set aside money for food, electricity, tuition, and savings. As they talk, they adjust some amounts—adding a little more for medicine, cutting a bit from dining out, or increasing the fund for school supplies. That is an amendment: open, discussed, and agreed upon by everyone. But later, someone secretly scribbles in a new expense, say a luxury watch or an unnecessary gadget, without telling the rest of the family, and insists that the money be taken from the savings meant for emergencies. That is an insertion: hidden, self-serving, and destructive.

I remember one Senate hearing where it was bluntly pointed out that while amendments are part of Congress’ duty, insertions are the loophole that turns public funds into private gain. It is here where people lose faith in government. For when the President submits a budget proposal, it has already gone through months of planning by agencies, careful weighing of priorities, and projections of limited funds. But insertions hijack this balance—taking away from education or health and pouring it into projects that may never see the light of day.

That is why it is important for ordinary citizens to understand: an amendment corrects, but an insertion corrupts. One is legal refinement; the other is manipulation. One is duty; the other is greed.

And so, when I see our leaders debating in the bicameral conference on paper, I always remind myself and others—our vigilance as citizens must not stop when the budget is passed in the House or the Senate. The real battle often happens in that small committee room where only a few decide for millions of Filipinos. We must ask: are they amending for the people, or inserting for themselves?

In the end, the difference is not just in terminology. It is the difference between governance and abuse, between hope and betrayal.

 

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 *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.

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Embracing the Energy of Opportunities and Abundance

*Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD

There are days when we wake up heavy, almost dragged down by the worries of yesterday, the burdens of the present, and the uncertainties of tomorrow. But today, I choose to rise differently. I choose to believe that I am a magnet for blessings, money, and opportunities. I choose to stand in the energy of abundance, knowing that life responds to the spirit I bring into it.

I remind myself that opportunities are not merely accidents of chance. They are drawn to us when we are prepared, when our hearts are open, and when our mindset is ready to embrace them. Money, too, is not just currency—it is energy. It flows where there is value, dedication, and courage. And blessings are not random gifts; they are the echoes of gratitude, discipline, and faith. That is why I encourage you, dear reader, to finish this journey with me—because the words you carry from this piece may unlock the very abundance that has been waiting for you. Do not miss this chance to receive what life is ready to give.

I have lived long enough to know that the universe favors those who refuse to be defeated. Each setback I faced, whether in my personal life, my advocacies, or my professional journey, carried within it a seed of something greater. And when I chose to water that seed with hope, work, and persistence, it grew into opportunities I never imagined. That is why I claim it boldly today: doors will open for me with ease, and success will rush into my life.

But claiming abundance is not about selfishness. It is about being able to give back, to share the fruit of success with others, and to inspire those who feel they are stuck in scarcity. If I stand tall in this energy, if I truly embody the belief that blessings flow endlessly, then I can help others rise too. Abundance is not meant to be hoarded—it is meant to be multiplied in love, generosity, and purpose.

So today, I celebrate in advance. I celebrate opportunities that are already on their way. I celebrate the money that will fund dreams, support advocacies, and secure futures. I celebrate blessings that will not only lift me but also empower others. This is not empty optimism—it is active faith. It is courage wrapped in gratitude. It is energy turned into motion.

I stand by my affirmation: “Today, I am a magnet for blessings, money, and opportunities. Doors open for me with ease, success rushes into my life, and abundance flows endlessly. I claim it, I embrace it, and I celebrate it now!”

And now, to you who have read this piece up to the very end—consider this your gift. You did not skip the opportunity to receive these words, and so abundance is already aligned with you. Opportunities will flow to you, money will find its way into your hands, and blessings will multiply in your life. But let this also serve as a reminder: skipping such affirmations, ignoring positive energy, or closing your heart to these words might redirect your path toward negativity. Life gives us choices every single day, and by finishing this reading, you have chosen light, faith, and growth.

Carry this energy with you, and may abundance embrace you in every step of your journey. And if this message has touched you, do not keep it to yourself—share it. In sharing, you multiply the energy, and others too will receive the same blessings of abundance that are now flowing into your life.

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 *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

Dexter in the Senate: When Sotto and Lacson Are the Next to be Chop

 

*Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD

 
One long weekend, I finished the Netflix series Dexter. By day, Dexter Morgan was a trusted forensic expert in Miami’s crime laboratory, decoding crime scenes with uncanny precision. He tracked blood splatters, pieced together fragments of evidence, and helped law enforcers hunt killers. Yet by night, he became a killer himself, binding his victims, chopping their bodies into pieces, and tossing them into the dark waters off Miami. He was both the hunter and the killer—both the law enforcer and the lawbreaker—living a double life that deceived everyone around him.
 
When I look at the Senate today, I cannot help but see the same paradox. Our senators present themselves as hunters of corruption, enforcers of accountability, guardians of the law. They hold hearings, they interrogate witnesses, they act as if they are policing the budget for the good of the nation. Yet many of them, when the lights go dim, are killers of truth. They chop the budget into insertions, mutilate it into ghost projects, and dump the evidence into the dark waters of bureaucracy. By day, they play detectives; by night, they play butchers.
 
This is why the possible ouster of Senate President Tito Sotto and the silencing of Senator Ping Lacson is so alarming. They have acted as true decoders, like forensic experts pointing to the blood stains others try to wash away. They have traced the chopped-up bodies of our stolen projects and said to the public: here lies the missing classroom, here lies the collapsed flood control, here lies the road that never was. And because they reveal too much, they are now being stalked by their peers.
 
It is a grotesque irony. Instead of protecting the law enforcers who expose the crime, the Senate has turned into a hunting ground where truth-tellers are prey. Just like Dexter’s victims bound to his kill table, Sotto and Lacson are being prepared for the chopping block. Their “crime” is not corruption—it is honesty. And in a chamber ruled by Dexters, honesty is a death sentence.
 
Every insertion is a severed limb of the nation. Every ghost project is another torso discarded. Every overpriced contract is a head rolled into the shadows. And just as Dexter carried his bags into the sea, the Senate carries the bodies of these crimes into the abyss of silence, hoping the people will never know. But unlike the silent waters of Miami, our nation cannot hide its dead. We walk on the broken bones of unfinished roads, we study in skeletal classrooms, we bury loved ones in the absence of healthcare carved away by thieves in power.
 
The most chilling thought is this: when hunters who are supposed to enforce the law become killers of truth, there is no one left to protect the people. That is what the Senate risks becoming. And if the next to be chopped are Sotto and Lacson, then we lose not just two men, but the last fragments of conscience in a chamber drowning in bloodless crimes.
 
If Dexter taught us anything, it is that a double life cannot last forever. The truth surfaces, no matter how deep the sea. But the question for us Filipinos is urgent: will we allow our true hunters—the ones who seek evidence and expose the crime—to be chopped by the very killers they have unmasked? For if we do, then we too are throwing our future into the ocean, bagged and weighted, waiting to sink without a trace.

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 *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: 206K

 

Who Benefits When the Marcos and Duterte Fights? Lessons from the Ant Jar and a Solution from the Provinces.

*Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD

I once read a story about ants. If you place a hundred red ants and a hundred black ants inside a jar, nothing happens. They crawl around, each minding their own space. But if you shake the jar hard and set it down, the ants suddenly turn on each other. The red ants see the black ants as enemies. The black ants see the red ants as enemies. They bite, claw, and kill one another, forgetting that they were never enemies to begin with. The true enemy was never the ants. The true enemy was the hand that shook the jar.

When I reflected on this simple tale, I realized how true it is for us Filipinos. Look at what is happening now. Families, friends, and even communities are divided, not by hunger, not by natural disasters, not even by foreign invaders, but by politics—by whether one supports the Marcos administration or remains loyal to former President Duterte. Every day online I see people hurling accusations at each other. Duterte supporters calling Marcos supporters blind. Marcos supporters branding Duterte loyalists as ungrateful. People ending friendships, neighbors turning cold, and families refusing to talk to each other—all because of politics.

But just like the ants in the jar, have we stopped to ask: who is shaking us?

The truth is that ordinary Filipinos—whether you wear red or green, whether you shout “Marcos pa rin” or “Duterte pa rin”—carry the same struggles. We line up in the same grocery stores, our pockets hurting from high prices. We worry about the same floods, knowing that ghost projects and substandard flood control leave us defenseless. We sit in the same traffic, wait for the same promises of better governance, and struggle with the same weight of corruption that bleeds our nation dry. Hunger, poverty, and injustice do not ask for your political colors. They hit us all the same.

And yet, we fight each other. We aim our anger at the wrong people—at neighbors, co-workers, friends—who are just like us, trying to survive. Meanwhile, those who truly benefit from our division quietly laugh. The ones shaking the jar are not the Marcos supporters nor the Duterte supporters, but the opportunists who want us distracted. They are the corrupt officials, the dynasties who never let go of power, the businessmen who bribe their way to contracts and deliver ghost projects. They are the political manipulators who profit from fake news, lies, and online hate.

But there are others too. There are political parties biding their time, waiting for Marcos and Duterte supporters to destroy each other so they can return to power. There are enemies of the state like the CPP–NPA–NDF who thrive when society is in chaos. There are foreign forces shaking our jar: China, which eyes our seas; and Uncle Sam, who would love to see us divided so it becomes easier to plant more bases in our land. Even criminal syndicates, drug lords, and POGO operators have a stake in keeping us weak and distracted. And yes, let us not forget the oligarchs—those who for decades monopolized industries and now wear the mask of “kakampink reformers.” These are the same families that captured the economy after 1986. Instead of the state controlling them, they now control the state.

And why are they so powerful? Because our government is too weak to stop them. The truth is painful: our Constitution, drafted in 1986, tied the hands of the state. It was built in the name of protecting democracy, but in reality, it empowered the oligarchs and entrenched dynasties to hold us hostage. That’s why the state cannot stop outside forces from shaking our jar. Maybe the time has come to admit the truth: this Constitution has failed to protect the people. It must be changed or amended if we are to free ourselves from those who shake us for their own benefit.

Sometimes, I even ask myself: what if there is truly no hope for us to unite at the national level? What if the divide between political colors is too deep, too poisoned by years of hate? Then maybe, the answer lies closer to home. Maybe the provinces can lead the way. If we cannot unite as a nation, then perhaps governors and local leaders can begin by uniting their own provinces—not in partisan politics, but in development. I have seen what Governor Reynaldo Tamayo has done in South Cotabato, how he has focused on education, welfare, and good governance rather than wasting energy on national divisiveness. I know there are other good governors out there quietly doing the same. Why not more of them?

A province with enough economic development can solve what national politics has failed to solve. A province that uplifts its farmers, educates its youth, and creates real opportunities can stop communist insurgency without firing a bullet, and it can calm separatist unrest by proving that government can be just and fair. Why must we always wait for Manila to move, when our provinces can act now? Why can’t governors stand up, work with their constituents, and prove that unity can begin at the provincial level? Perhaps the answer to the shaking of the jar is simple: let the provinces get out of the jar, so no one can shake them anymore.

I hesitated to write this reflection. I have friends on both sides—Marcos loyalists and Duterte diehards. I don’t want to lose friendships. I don’t want to be seen as taking sides. But silence also has consequences. If we do not speak of the hand shaking the jar, we will go on tearing each other apart, blind to the real enemy.

Our society must learn a painful lesson: the person in front of you is not your enemy. The jeepney driver who supports Duterte is not the one who keeps you poor. The farmer who admires Marcos is not the reason why your child’s classroom is falling apart. The real enemies are corruption, injustice, and impunity. The real enemies are those who keep shaking the jar while we remain too distracted to notice.

We need to look beyond personalities and political colors. We need real reforms that go deeper—reforms that finally break dynasties, reforms that truly hold leaders accountable, reforms that give the state the strength to protect the people, not the oligarchs. We need a new system that cannot be hijacked by the same families who have ruled our lives for decades.

More than anything, we need healing. Because as long as Marcos supporters and Duterte supporters see each other as mortal enemies, the true jar-shakers win. And when they win, the Filipino people lose.

I return to the story of the ants. Inside the jar, they forget that they were never enemies. They forget that they only started killing each other because someone shook them violently. What a tragedy it would be if that became the story of our people—that we allowed ourselves to be divided forever, blind to the hands that shake us.

But tragedy does not have to be our destiny. We can stop. We can choose to turn our anger away from each other and focus it where it belongs. We can ask the harder questions: Who really benefits when we are divided? Who profits from our hate? Who is shaking our jar?

And if the national government cannot give us the unity we need, then let the provinces rise. Let the governors take the lead in building real progress where it matters. Let every province create its own strength so that its people no longer live in fear of poverty, insurgency, or neglect. Let us learn to build unity from the ground up, one province at a time.

If we can find the courage to do this, then maybe one day we will finally see each other not as enemies but as fellow Filipinos—brothers and sisters trapped in the same jar for too long, but now ready to climb out together, free at last from the hands that shake us.

The time has come to stop tearing each other apart. The time has come to look up, to recognize the hand shaking our society, and to finally say: “Enough.”

  ___________________

 *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: 187K