What Cabral’s death says about our institutions
The death of former Department of Public Works and Highways Undersecretary Maria Catalina “Cathy” Cabral in Benguet has drawn a deep and uneasy pause from many in government, civil society, and the human rights community. Cabral was a career public servant who rose from the rank of civil engineering aide to one of the highest posts at the DPWH. Her journey through the bureaucracy was an example of how professional competence and perseverance can flourish within the career executive service (CES).
Her final months, however, tell a more troubling story. Caught in the tempest of congressional investigations into alleged irregularities in flood control projects, she faced intense public scrutiny. She ultimately resigned and, three months later, met a tragic end by a mountainside road. Investigators must still determine what truly happened, and they must do so with independence and transparency. But regardless of the manner of her death, we are left with an uncomfortable truth. Our institutions have yet to learn how to balance legitimate accountability with the duty to protect the humanity, dignity and well-being of those who serve.
Cabral’s case highlights a recurring dilemma in public life. Once allegations arise, the public, the media, and sometimes political actors, can turn individuals into symbols of corruption long before any conviction. Courts operate on evidence, but the court of public opinion often operates on spectacle. Due process is not only a legal doctrine. It is also a cultural norm that should guide how we speak of people who are under scrutiny. When that norm is discarded, reputations built over decades can be destroyed in a matter of clicks and shares.
This dynamic is particularly troublesome for members of the CES, who carry enormous responsibilities. They implement policies, manage billion-peso portfolios, and often serve as the institutional memory of national agencies. Yet the same system that demands so much from them frequently leaves them exposed to political pressures, budgetary disputes, and patronage networks that they did not create but must navigate. When controversies arise, career officials can easily become the convenient scapegoats of systemic problems.
Cabral’s career shows both the promise and the vulnerability of the CES. She made history in engineering circles and contributed to significant infrastructure planning efforts. But in her final year, she also faced the darker reality many career executives encounter: the constant tension between professional standards and political demands. This is not a problem of individual morality alone. It is an institutional problem. The absence of robust safeguards against undue pressure makes career officials susceptible to being the public face for decisions in which many actors, often more powerful, are involved.
Protecting members of the CES requires more than administrative reforms. It requires a cultural shift. First, there must be precise institutional mechanisms that shield career officials from political retaliation or coercion. They must be able to refuse improper directives without fear for their careers or safety. Second, investigations involving CES members must follow transparent and fair procedures, with protocols to prevent premature public condemnation. Third, mental health support must be made available. The pressures of high-level public service are severe and unrelenting. The system should not wait for a tragedy before recognizing that stress, isolation, and reputational attacks can have profound human consequences.
Most importantly, we need a shift in how we view accountability. Accountability is essential, but it must not return to the pre-Magna Carta days of punishment before proof. The public has a legitimate interest in the integrity of infrastructure spending. However, this interest is not served by processes that dehumanize those being investigated. When the accused becomes a caricature rather than a person, the pursuit of truth is replaced by the pursuit of drama.
Cabral’s death is tragic on its own terms. Yet it is also a call to examine how our institutions treat those who spend their lives working within them. Her story reminds us that our bureaucracy is not made up of abstractions or machines. It is made up of people who can be inspired, overwhelmed, pressured, or broken.
We honor her life by examining the systems that shaped it. We celebrate her life by ensuring that no member of the CES, no public servant at all, feels abandoned by the very institutions they have devoted their lives to strengthen.
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Daniel Lising, MD, JD, LLM, teaches medical jurisprudence, torts and public utilities, and transportation law at the University of the Philippines College of Law and practices medicine at the New Era Hospital. He received his LLM at Georgetown University and currently heads the Institute of Human Rights at the UP Law Center. He is also a full professor teaching legal medicine at Fatima University.


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