A summit can feel distant. A boat can feel ancient. A household can feel too ordinary for regional conversation.

But as the Philippines hosts the 2026 Association of Southeast Asian Nations Summit in Cebu, perhaps all three belong in the same reflection.

Malacañang highlighted regional energy security as one concern before the summit, as the continuing tension in the Middle East bears heavily on Asia. That emphasis is timely. Some regional issues do not remain regional for long. It does not make energy security the only concern. Disaster resilience, stability, cooperation, public safety and the welfare of overseas Filipino workers are also on the table.

Energy security quickly leaves the conference hall and enters ordinary life: the light switch, fuel pump, hospital generator, delivery fee and almost everything that must move before it reaches the table.

I first learned this in the early 2000s when I asked an uncle who worked at the embassy of a Middle Eastern state why we could not be given preferential pricing on oil, with many Filipinos working there.

His answer was direct: “We can only be assured of supply.”

I did not understand its weight then. Years later, it sounds less like a dismissal and more like a lesson. Goodwill, labor and friendship matter. But when markets tighten, access is never automatic. Supply is not sentiment. It must be prepared for before disruption arrives.

Citizens may not need to know every technical detail. But they deserve to understand this: when energy becomes unstable, daily life becomes more fragile.

The impact is not felt equally, but widely. It reaches homes, hospitals, ports, markets, schools, public services, small businesses and transport routes. This is economic democracy: resilience should not be a private luxury, available only to those who can absorb higher costs or decode complicated choices.

This is where the Balangay becomes more than a visual theme.

The Philippine chairship carries the theme “Navigating Our Future, Together.” Its logo includes the Balangay, the wooden watercraft associated with Butuan and our maritime heritage. It is a Philippine image, but also a regional reminder: of seas crossed, communities connected, risks shared and journeys pursued by people who knew no voyage survives without craft and trust.

I was reminded of this when I visited the Florentino Das, a modern Balangay replica associated with Art Valdez’s revival work, built with the skill of traditional boat makers from Sulu and Mindanao. Named after the Filipino yachtsman who crossed the Pacific in the mid-1950s, it honored the ancient boat but was not trapped in the past.

It carried satellite navigation and air conditioning powered by the sun. Onboard, one could imagine two horizons: how our ancestors crossed these waters, and how the future might move if memory, discipline, and technology travel together.

Solar power belongs in that forward view.

It points to a future where resilience can be built closer to homes, schools, farms and small businesses. People should not merely wait for strength to be delivered from elsewhere; they should be guided enough to build part of it where they live.

Still, promise needs discipline. Concerns about improper or poorly installed systems should not be brushed aside, especially when safety, workers, and consumers may be affected. But neither should those concerns weaken legitimate solar companies and responsible installers helping make cleaner energy more reachable. 

The future should not be entered through shortcuts, confusing promises, or workmanship that disappears after the sale. It must be safe, understandable, fair and accessible.

Cebu may host the conversation. The region may give it scale. But the real measure is closer to home.

A summit may begin in a hall. A boat may begin as a memory. But the future is tested in the household, where big words either become care, or remain only words.