The tallest of dreams have been caught up in the fervor and pompous ideals that corruption in the government can be eradicated with grit and political will.

Ombudsman Samuel Martires' argument is inclined toward the contrary, stirring a congress of proud lawmakers with a thesis that some deem devoid of imagination.

"Never in our lifetime," said Mr. Martires, who has been on a mission that spanned an entire career indicting countless criminals for graft.

Mr. Martires is acquainted with corruption like the devil and is confident that no might in the government as large as Congress can banish the infection entirely with laws, larger fines, and lengthy prison terms, especially when justice can be bought.

The 2022 Corruption Perceptions Index by Transparency International ranked the Philippines as the 116th most corrupt in the world.

The Office of the Ombudsman, formerly Tanodbayan, established by virtue of the Constitution to fight corruption in the government with Sandiganbayan, is independent of any other branch of the state.

Congress, in 1989, passed Republic Act 6770, known as the Ombudsman Act.

"Corruption will not stop in our country…unless we change ourselves and our values," he added.

A defeatist worldview does not preclude Mr. Martires from exhausting everything in the power vested in him by the state to purge the bug by prosecuting crooks in the administration.

"But eradicate? No. Minimize? Impossible. Because I know I cannot do that."

He lamented that it is not even attainable with the entire judicial system mobilized on its tail.

Where the laws fail, Mr. Martires latches on some "Praise Jesus!" miracle through a modest proposal: "Something that will prevent you from doing these things: God-centered values [among elected leaders]."

It's like an amorphous solution to world hunger, but Mr. Martires is lobbying for a bill that intends to instill the fear of the Lord early in schools. To wit: From kindergarten to college.

"All [existing] laws [made to deter] corruption are post factum: after the fact. We need a pillar that would change our attitude."

It is to revert to the baser elements: "Lack of love, respect and fear of God" motivates any crime.

He posits a maverick tack: collaboration, not separation, between the church and the state in values formation.

Mr. Martires is a former Regional Trial Court judge, Sandiganbayan justice, and Supreme Court justice before becoming the Ombudsman.

In his decades trying thieves in public office, he wrestled with the giants, most het up about public officials involved in embezzling billions of taxpayers' money from anomalous transactions, undaunted it might court death at his peril.

It nearly cost him his life — a .45-caliber bullet shot from the rear of his sedan.

Mr. Martires was then the presiding judge of the Regional Trial Court, Branch 32 of Agoo, La Union.

"They say it was only intended to scare me. With the bullet's trajectory, I don't think the perpetrator didn't want me dead."

"It was a blessing in disguise. (Without the nagging threat), I wouldn't have otherwise thought of applying to the Court of Appeals and Sandiganbayan."

Mr. Martires passed the bar examination in 1976 but admitted that joining the judiciary was an afterthought.

"It was my mother's dream."

It was a decision fraught with regret, considering how his mom had persistently asked.

"I'm very sorry that I did not consider my mother's request then, who did not live long enough to see her only child as a judge."

And ultimately, the Philippines' sixth Ombudsman. He has a chair with his name, but what price glory?

Martires has been in hot water more times than he can count, owing to his penchant for grand assertions mostly misinterpreted as tainted with ill intent.

Most recently, he proposed that Congress eliminate a provision in the annual national budget mandating the publication of Commission on Audit reports on government agencies.

The rationale: To ultimately stave off premature corruption judgment against government officials flagged by the state auditing agency.

"I should have phrased it as 'contested reports' (because publishing questioned reports would confuse the public). It reflected badly on me. I was bashed."

"Hope they see the whole picture. What is the intention? I did not say, 'Do not publish an annual audit report.'"

When the judge gets deduced with profane reprisal on social media, he only has his moral compass in his back pocket.

He argues that seething hate, instead of actual arguments, is so far and wide on social media, however unproductive in redressing the wrong.

"You can criticize my words; I may appear stupid, or I may be wrong. But let us put it all like civilized men."

Sour with old age?

At 74, Mr. Martires demonstrates his capacity for rational thought but quickly forgets petty misdeeds that do not scathe the memory. He will be 76 by the time his term of office ends in 2025.

Any man of his stature may strike one with the notion of a fulfilled and happy retirement. But not until Mr. Martires sees the values-formation proposal he's pushing in effect in schools so that fear of God would be a requisite in public and private service.

Only then will he be ready for judgment.