Pork with branding

If a person unexpectedly gives you a gift for Christmas, you feel obliged to get them a last-minute gift and to include them in your future shopping list. This instinct reflects what social psychologist Robert Cialdini calls the norm of reciprocity: the deeply ingrained belief that receiving a favor creates a moral obligation to repay it, even when the gift is unsolicited or difficult to quantify. In the Philippines, this dynamic is reinforced by utang na loob—a cultural value rooted in our strong sense of community, but one that is also highly vulnerable to exploitation.

In emergency situations, this internalized norm gets further amplified because the immediacy of fear, pain, and uncertainty heightens the emotional weight of the assistance that a person receives from others. For recipients with limited economic resources, however, reciprocity cannot take a material form. They cannot “pay back” the money, so repayment is displaced into other currencies, like emotional allegiance and public expressions of gratitude.

Viewed through this lens, it’s clear why public officials see cash aid as an important tool for political survival. The recipient’s gratitude could easily turn into moral debt that would be repaid through loyalty, votes, and even silence in the face of wrongdoing. Government budgets built around vague or discretionary allocations perpetuate padrino politics by allowing funds to be selectively released and personally attributed. The politician is no longer perceived as someone tasked with managing public resources, but as a benefactor who has done them a personal favor. Relief becomes associated not with the state, but with individual names.

These concerns loom large over the 2026 General Appropriations Bill, scheduled for signing today by President Marcos after a week-long review. The version ratified by Congress has drawn criticism from opposition lawmakers and governance watchdogs for retaining unprogrammed appropriations at P243 billion versus the P174.5 billion version earlier approved by the Senate. The passed version of the GAB also includes huge allocations for what critics call “soft pork” programs, including Assistance to Individuals in Crisis Situation (P63.9 billion), Medical Assistance to Indigent and Financially Incapacitated Patients (P51.6 billion), and Tulong Panghanapbuhay sa ating Disadvantaged/Displaced Workers (P22 billion). Despite the Senate having earlier defunded the Presidential Assistance to Farmers and Fisherfolk, P10 billion was restored during bicameral deliberations. These initiatives are being sold to the public as services rooted in compassion. However, critics point out that their vague targeting and discretionary release make them ideal tools for credit-claiming and quite vulnerable to corruption.

Defenders of cash aid programs will argue that emergency assistance is both necessary and humane, especially in a country where safety nets are weak and crises are frequent. For families facing hunger, illness, or homelessness due to natural disasters, immediate cash can mean survival. In this view, criticizing such programs risks sounding detached from everyday suffering or dismissive of the help provided by cash grants that slower-moving structural reforms cannot address in time.

The issue here, however, is not the existence of emergency aid, but how it is designed, funded, and politically deployed. Assistance that is institutionalized, transparently targeted, and rights-based can protect dignity without manufacturing dependency on incumbent politicians. What undermines democracy is when relief is discretionary and personalized, allowing it to be strategically used to curry favor and strengthen clientelism.

It is also worth noting that the GAB was ratified in less than a minute through a viva voce vote. This effectively denied opposing lawmakers the opportunity to explain objections or scrutinize the last-minute changes. Budget watchdog Social Watch Philippines also highlighted that despite the livestreaming of bicameral sessions, numerous side meetings took place that resulted in major adjustments that were neither explained during the proceedings nor reflected clearly in amendment summaries.

Should the 2026 GAB be signed in its current form, a significant amount of our taxes will be used to finance programs that look good branding-wise, but will not lead to much-needed structural reforms. And with short-term governance comes long-term negative consequences. If most of our resources are being diverted to discretionary aid and patronage-prone funds, the very systems meant to prevent crises in the first place, like food production capacity, health care delivery, and other social safety nets, remain weak and underdeveloped. The national budget risks ceasing to function as a development plan and merely becoming a mechanism for those in political survival.