The Pedantic

Woke up this morning hoping for a reset, with my circadian rhythm hopefully back on track after weeks of near-sleeplessness, due in part to bodily changes occasioned by advancing age and to the ayuda economy, which has gone from bad to worse to overdrive. I cannot believe what has recently been printed in both legacy news outlets and portals like the one where I currently work, or the level of absurdity that has pervaded the country. When I ask any reasonable person what ails the Philippines, with its rich resources and poor economic performance, the retort and the discussion that follow quickly turn absurd. The survey firms Pulse Asia and OCTA have a four-word answer: the cost of living. Two-thirds of the country say the most urgent issue is inflation, and that “public sentiment . . . is being shaped primarily by economic strain and the rising cost of living.”

Quite a lot of us have had the experience. We open our banking app to send P500 to a godson for his birthday, and the screen politely informs us that this act of generosity will cost us P25. Nakagulat. Five percent of our kindness, gone—not to our godson, not to charity, but to a fee whose only visible purpose is to exist. Haay naku.

Where I live, Thursday mornings are dedicated to the ritualistic pilgrimage to the local talipapa, a humble expedition to secure a week’s worth of sustenance for the household. Our modest needs are dictated less by appetite and more by the pragmatic demands of advancing age. Reaching for a favorite, I inquired about the price of a kilo of pompano—a fish that, not so long ago, went for a respectable ₱440.

Not so long ago, my P100 got me a full meal, a movie ticket and a jeepney ride home. Today I showed one to the barista and all I got was a sympathetic nod and a small glass of service water.

In 1986, the Philippines stood at a historic crossroads. Fresh from the People Power Revolution, the country embraced a vibrant democratic morning with a distinct economic head start in Southeast Asia. Across the South China Sea, Vietnam was in dire straits—reeling from decades of war, international isolation, and hyperinflation. Yet that very year, Hanoi launched Doi Moi, an ambitious series of economic reforms meant to transition from a rigid command economy toward a more market-driven system.