*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.
