*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.
