*Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD,EdD
Introduction
One of the most delicate and important positions in our country is that of Chief of the Philippine National Police (PNP). Maintaining peace and order, respecting the rule of law, and making sure that the faith of those in uniform is not betrayed are all difficult tasks for the PNP Chief, who leads almost 200,000 policemen. Being in the office is about being honest, disciplined, and serving the public, not about being glamorous or showy.
As someone who has worked directly with several of our police chiefs, I write this observation in addition to my role as an academician, public safety advocate, political analyst, and former professor. When I was mentoring these outstanding officers and gentlemen in the Directorial Staff Course at the Philippine Public Safety College in the 381-hour Module on Doctrine Development, I was very young at that time. From General Leonardo Espina to General Rommel Marbil, with the exception of General Oscar Albayalde, I had the honor of educating nearly every PNP Chief in the concept of SFA Testing and SET Approach in developing doctrines and policies in public safety and law enforcement. However, like it or not, every professor has a favorite, and for me, that favorite is Generals Dionard Carlos and Vicente Danao; as students, I have witnessed them preparing for the immense responsibilities that come with leadership and organizational development. But General Nicolas Torre was never a student of mine, and maybe that is important. My viewpoint is one of introspection rather than malice, contrasting Torre's behavior with what I have observed in other chiefs of the Philippine National Police.
This perspective is intended to personalize the lesson rather than to degrade it. The Torre case serves as a reminder of the vulnerability of leadership when it is driven more by ambition, ego, and conceit than by service. It forces me to consider twelve things that a PNP chief should not do—lessons that apply to him as well as to anyone who will eventually be given this honorable responsibility.
1.
Putting Politics Over Service
The
PNP is mandated by law to remain apolitical, especially during elections. Yet
political ambition has often crept into police leadership. Torre’s tendency to
position himself for a future political career while still in uniform
exemplified the dangers of mixing politics with policing.
Writers like Mangahas (2016) remind us that too many Philippine police chiefs have acted as “political brokers,” using their positions to secure influence beyond their terms. This corrodes institutional independence and transforms the PNP into a political tool rather than a professional service. A Chief who treats the position as a campaign launchpad weakens democracy itself.
2.
Living for Social Media Content
The
rise of social media has blurred the line between governance and entertainment.
Torre leaned heavily into vlogging, livestreaming, and personal branding. While
communication strategies are important, leadership by spectacle dilutes
substance.
Scholars like Pertierra (2019) point out how political figures in the Philippines increasingly use social media to project charisma rather than competence. For a police chief, this shift is particularly dangerous: the PNP must project professionalism, not gimmickry. Torre’s obsession with online content may have raised his personal profile, but it diminished the dignity of the office.
3.
Picking Fights Instead of Building Bridges
Leadership
in policing requires diplomacy, both within the organization and with civilian
overseers. Torre’s confrontations with the Secretary of the Interior and Local
Government (SILG) and his tendency to pick fights with fellow generals revealed
a confrontational leadership style. Instead of unifying the organization, Torre
deepened divisions.
Bayley (2006) reminds us that effective democratic policing depends on cooperation and inter-agency collaboration. Chiefs who thrive on conflict project instability and disunity. Torre’s inability to manage relationships weakened institutional coherence.
4.
Treating Boxing Rings as Police Work
Perhaps
the most humiliating episodes in Torre’s tenure involved reports of physical
altercations resembling boxing matches with rivals. Such behavior trivialized
the seriousness of police leadership.
Policing requires moral courage and administrative competence, not physical brawls. Skolnick and Fyfe (1993) long warned that excessive reliance on force—even symbolically—destroys public trust. By treating personal disputes as arenas for machismo, Torre diminished the professional image of the police.
5.
Ignoring Oversight Reversals
Oversight
institutions exist to ensure accountability. When the Napolcom reversed or
corrected Torre’s decisions, his dismissive response revealed arrogance. Rather
than reassessing his choices, Torre doubled down.
The Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism (2020) has documented how accountability bodies like Napolcom are often undermined by leaders who resent oversight. Yet in a democracy, checks and balances are meant to strengthen—not weaken—leadership. Torre’s disregard for oversight showed a failure to grasp democratic governance.
6.
Building a Cult of Personality
One of
Torre’s most visible flaws was his obsession with cultivating a fan base. His
leadership seemed to revolve around personal image rather than institutional
reform. Cheerleaders and sycophants surrounded him, inflating his sense of
invincibility.
Kellerman (2004) warns us about leaders who thrive on flattery and mistake it for loyalty. In a culture where utang na loob (debt of gratitude) often shapes loyalty, Torre’s court of flatterers only deepened his detachment from reality.
7.
Confusing Popularity with Authority
A
crucial distinction exists between popularity and authority. Torre mistook
trending hashtags and supportive rallies for institutional respect. Yet Reiner
(2010) emphasizes that real authority in policing derives from legitimacy,
fairness, and professional integrity—not online noise.
Inside the PNP, popularity counts for little if not backed by trust from the rank-and-file. Torre’s fixation on spectacle alienated many officers who expected leadership, not grandstanding.
8.
Running Ahead of Time
Even
before his retirement, Torre appeared to position himself as a future political
candidate. This blurred the line between duty and ambition. A Chief who
campaigns while in uniform betrays his oath of service.
As Hernandez (2017) points out, democratic consolidation requires police neutrality. When Chiefs openly prepare for politics, they transform the PNP into a political weapon rather than a professional force. Torre’s ambition undermined both his credibility and the institution’s neutrality.
9.
Forgetting the Men and Women in Uniform
The
true measure of leadership lies in how one treats the rank-and-file. Torre’s
preoccupation with self-promotion left little room for addressing officer
welfare. Complaints from within the PNP about low morale underscored this
disconnect.
Research
by Roberg, Novak, Cordner, and Smith (2017) shows that leadership focused on
personnel welfare directly correlates with organizational effectiveness.
Torre’s neglect of his men and women revealed leadership more concerned with
the mirror than the troops.
10.
Believing One’s Own Hype
Perhaps
Torre’s gravest error was believing his own myth. Surrounded by sycophants and
buoyed by social media applause, he seemed to think himself untouchable. Yet
institutions always outlive personalities.
History is full of leaders who overestimated their invincibility, only to be unseated abruptly. Torre’s fall reflects what Kellerman (2004) warns us about—leaders who mistake self-promotion for legitimacy often collapse swiftly when reality intrudes.
11.
Weaponizing Connections and Name-Dropping
Torre
often invoked supposed ties to powerful figures as shields. Yet reliance on
connections over competence exposes insecurity. Sidel (1999) observed long ago
how “bossism” thrives in Philippine politics, where connections outweigh merit.
Torre’s constant name-dropping echoed that same culture of patronage.
True leadership in the PNP cannot be borrowed—it must be exercised with integrity. Chiefs who lean on patrons invite both suspicion and resentment.
12.
Prioritizing Ego Over Country
At the
core of Torre’s failures was ego. Decisions seemed driven more by pride than
principle. Ego-centered leadership corrodes public trust and distorts
decision-making.
Public service is not about preserving face; it is about serving the people. A Chief who prioritizes ego inevitably harms the institution he is sworn to protect.
Historical
and Personal Reflections
Torre’s
case is not unique. Past PNP Chiefs have faced similar controversies. From
accusations of corruption to allegations of political bias, the office has
often been tarnished by personal ambition. During the Arroyo administration,
questions of loyalty divided the police leadership (Quah, 2011). Under Duterte,
the “war on drugs” exposed the PNP to charges of human rights abuses (Curato,
2016). In each instance, failures of leadership eroded institutional trust.
As a professor who has taught many of Torre’s predecessors, I reflect on these patterns with both sadness and resolve. I know firsthand that there are leaders who rise with humility and integrity, and others who stumble because of pride. Torre’s downfall is part of a larger story: when the PNP Chief forgets that he is a steward of the institution rather than its owner, the cracks always show.
Conclusion
The
Torre situation reminds us that the PNP Chief must never be larger than the
institution. Leadership that thrives on spectacle, politics, and ego collapses
under its own weight. The twelve ways not to be a Chief—putting politics over
service, living for clout, picking fights, turning disputes into boxing,
ignoring oversight, cultivating personality cults, confusing popularity with
authority, running ahead of time, neglecting the rank-and-file, believing one’s
own hype, weaponizing connections, and prioritizing ego—are not just about one
man. They are about what the institution must resist.
I reflect on this not only as a writer but as a teacher who has guided many of Torre’s predecessors. I know what good leadership can look like when humility, discipline, and integrity guide the man at the top. Torre’s downfall is not merely his own—it is a cautionary tale for all future leaders of the PNP. The badge is not a brand but a trust. The uniform is not a costume for ambition but a symbol of service. And the title of Chief is not about the man but about the nation he swore to protect.
References
•
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