Sally Quinn, an author and seasoned journalist, made headlines today for an explosive interview this week in which she accused Jill Biden, wife of former US president Joe Biden, of “elder abuse” for allegedly pushing the former president to seek re-election despite signs of cognitive decline. The comments sparked outrage, concern, and a striking sense of déjà vu for observers of Philippine politics.

“I thought it was elder abuse, really,” Quinn declared, describing the spectacle of Jill Biden cheering on her husband’s 2024 campaign after a disastrous presidential debate that left many questioning his fitness to serve. In Washington circles, she said, the former president’s fading health was an open secret — one only made more disturbing by news that he had advanced-stage prostate cancer, allegedly undetected despite access to the best medical care in the world.

What we’re witnessing, Quinn argues, is a blend of denial, ambition, and strategic emotional leverage: the weaponization of a loved one’s frailty for public sympathy and political gain. And it’s hard not to draw parallels to how senior citizens are being represented, or arguably, misrepresented, within our own partylist system here in the Philippines.

Take the recently concluded elections. Not one, but two partylists won seats in Congress under the banner of advocating for senior citizens: the Senior Citizens Partylist, with Rodolfo "Ompong" Ordanes as its first nominee, and the United Senior Citizens Partylist, led by Milagros Magsaysay. Both claim to champion the rights of the elderly, a sector supposedly marginalized and thus eligible for partylist representation.

The Philippines has one of the most extensive legal frameworks protecting its elderly. From Republic Act No. 9994 (Expanded Senior Citizens Act of 2010) to automatic PhilHealth coverage and mandatory discounts on everything from groceries to utilities — seniors in this country are far from legally invisible. So the question must be asked: are senior citizens still a marginalized sector in need of two separate partylist voices in Congress?

Or are they being used, like Quinn suggests of Joe Biden, as sympathetic figures to unlock votes, attract attention, and maintain influence — regardless of whether the representation yields tangible, measurable outcomes?

It’s not entirely fair to paint both Ordanes and Magsaysay as merely symbolic seat-fillers. According to the official Congressional records, Magsaysay has principally authored 133 bills, while Ordanes has 246 to his name. That’s not exactly idleness. And in media, Ordanes is regularly quoted pushing for better pensions, better healthcare, and better social services for the elderly. The issue, however, is that "pushing" isn’t the same as "passing" — and symbolic support without systemic results often amounts to nothing more than political theater.

Magsaysay’s shift from being part of the Senior Citizens Partylist in 2019 to now leading the United Senior Citizens — representing essentially the same group — raises a further red flag. Is this duplication of advocacy really about refining the fight for the elderly? Or just classic Philippine political recycling dressed up in a new name?

Let’s also not forget the irony in how these seats, meant for underrepresented sectors, are sometimes more about power than principle.

At least both Magsaysay and Ordanes are actually senior citizens.

Contrast that with the farcical reality of a so-called “Youth” party-list with a 40-year-old nominee.

Back in Washington, the drama over Jill Biden’s alleged orchestration of her husband’s political twilight is fueling a national reckoning over age, autonomy, and the ethics of power. Here at home, we should be asking ourselves a similar question: Are our partylist representatives pushing for change — or just pushing press releases?

Ultimately, representation must come with responsibility, not just résumé-padding. If these two partylists truly believe they are the best voices for our elderly, then let them be judged not just by the number of bills they’ve filed, but by the lives they’ve actually changed. Anything less would be — as Sally Quinn would put it — nothing short of a disservice. Or worse, a misuse of sympathy.