Lowering Criminal Responsibility as Cover for State Neglect
The blood in the halls of San Jose National High School in Tacloban had barely dried after a horrific shooting left three students dead and at least 20 others injured, when the familiar chorus of state apologists rushed to their default refrain: lower the minimum age of criminal responsibility to 12.
One of the firearms used by the two minor suspects—a Glock 17 pistol—was traced back to a police officer. That fact alone should have sparked outrage and accountability. Instead, Sen. Robinhood Padilla and the Philippine National Police seized on the tragedy to push for criminalizing children. A staggering absurdity, yet entirely predictable.
To criminalize a 12-year-old is to legislate state neglect. Proponents of this measure choose to ignore the scientific and legal consensus that demands the protection of minors. Under the Juvenile Justice and Welfare Act of 2006 (Republic Act 9344), the law explicitly recognizes that children lack the full discernment of adults due to their ongoing neuro-developmental growth. Science tells us that the prefrontal cortex—the region of the brain responsible for impulse control and risk assessment—is far from fully formed at age 12. To subject a child to the trauma of the criminal justice system is not “justice”; it is a violation of international frameworks like the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child, to which the Philippines is a signatory.
But acknowledging science would mean confronting the government’s own failures. Where is the state before a child commits a crime? Missing in action. Public education remains in perpetual triage, with teachers managing 60 to 80 students in suffocating classrooms while psychosocial support is virtually nonexistent. We expect schools to be sanctuaries, yet they lack the guidance counselors and social interventions needed to catch vulnerable youth before they fall through the cracks.
This punitive obsession is part of a deeper malaise. It stems from the same bankrupt logic behind calls to revive the death penalty. Proponents posture as defenders of law and order while ignoring a flawed justice system that inherently protects the corrupt. The death penalty will never be an equalizer in an unjust society; it will simply legalize the elimination of the poor, while the rich and powerful buy their way out with high-priced lawyers and political connections.
We have seen this script before. It is the same logic that fueled a bloody drug war, targeting low-level pushers in slums while syndicates and state actors operated with impunity. The state offered blood for a false sense of security, ignoring the systemic poverty that drives Filipinos into illicit trades. It is the same mindset behind the militarized response to insurgency, deploying battalions instead of dismantling land monopolies and addressing rural poverty.
There is no doubt that we should mourn the victims of the Tacloban shooting and demand justice for their families. The perpetrators and their parents must be held accountable. But we cannot ignore the government’s responsibility for the conditions that led to this tragedy—from the police weapon ending up in the hands of minors to its neglect of the youth.
Whether insurgency, drugs, or school violence, the government response is always the same: brute force. Lowering the age of criminal responsibility is not a solution but an admission of failure. It is easier for the state to jail children than to build a society where they can grow, learn, and live free from poverty and danger. Until we confront the root causes of violence—inequality, neglect, and social injustice—no punitive law will stop the blood from spilling.
The time is ripe for a K-12 voucher program