What’s in it for me? (WIIFM)
The true measure of any political undertaking is not the attention it commands but the benefits it delivers to the people.

The true measure of any political undertaking is not the attention it commands but the benefits it delivers to the people.


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The question “What’s in it for me?” (WIIFM) may have no traceable origin, but it aptly captures the public mood after weeks of watching the Senate impeachment trial.
What began with intense anticipation has gradually given way to fatigue. Lengthy presentations by the prosecution, expected objections from the defense, procedural arguments, motions, counter-motions, and debates over the admissibility of evidence have slowed the proceedings to a crawl. That is the nature of due process, and no one questions the constitutional right of either side to fully present its case.
Yet while lawyers may appreciate every legal maneuver, the average Filipino watching from home sees something else — a slow-motion legal drama, with endless technical jargon, parliamentary procedures, and repetitive exchanges that few ordinary citizens fully understand or appreciate and many are now asking a simple but profound question: “What’s in it for me?”
For families struggling with the rising cost of living, job security, quality education, accessible healthcare, and safer communities, political spectacle is no substitute for effective governance.
They are less concerned about who will win the impeachment battle than about whether it will put food on the table, create jobs, lower prices, improve public services, or strengthen the institutions that affect their daily lives.
The true measure of any political undertaking is not the attention it commands but the benefits it delivers to the people.
The sidewalk vendor, the farmer, the jeepney driver, the call center agent working the night shift, and the overseas Filipino worker following events from abroad are less interested in legal technicalities than in practical questions.
Will rice become cheaper? Will electricity rates go down? Will wages rise without costing jobs? Will more investments create employment? Will my children receive a better education? Will my future improve?
Unfortunately, the impeachment trial cannot answer these questions, and its opportunity cost is substantial.
Every week devoted primarily to impeachment is a week taken from the Senate’s legislative agenda. While the Constitution does not require the Senate to cease legislating when sitting as an impeachment court, the reality is different. The trial consumes the time, preparation, and political energy of senators, committee staff, resource persons and government officials.
Measures to improve the ease of doing business, modernize agriculture, strengthen disaster resilience, expand digital infrastructure, reform education, reduce logistics costs, and attract investments inevitably move more slowly.
The economy, however, does not wait.
Investors decide every day where to build factories, establish regional headquarters, develop industrial parks, or expand operations. Across Southeast Asia, governments compete aggressively for these investments. Capital naturally seeks stability, predictability, and governments focused on economic growth rather than prolonged political confrontation.
Political uncertainty, even when constitutionally justified, carries economic costs. Businesses defer expansion, hiring slows, consumers become more cautious, and financial markets react. Individually these effects may appear modest; collectively they weaken growth, employment, and investor confidence.
Government itself also risks becoming distracted. Cabinet officials spend valuable time preparing testimonies, responding to media inquiries, and reacting to daily political developments instead of advancing policy reforms. Public discourse shifts from inflation, productivity, competitiveness, and investment to personalities and political conflict.
The Constitution wisely provides for impeachment as the mechanism for removing high officials accused of serious misconduct. No democracy should abandon that safeguard simply because it is inconvenient. If public officials have violated the Constitution or betrayed the public trust, they must answer before the institutions created for that purpose.
The challenge before the Senate, however, is not only to conduct a fair trial but to do so with discipline, efficiency, and the constant awareness that the nation cannot afford legislative paralysis.
Justice delayed affects more than the accused. It affects every Filipino waiting for reforms that would create jobs, lower prices, improve healthcare, modernize transport, strengthen food security, protect the environment, and prepare the country for future challenges.
The credibility of the impeachment process will depend not only on the verdict but also on the fairness, objectivity, and efficiency with which it is conducted. At the same time, the senators must never lose sight of their broader constitutional duty to legislate for more than 115 million Filipinos.
When politics monopolizes the national agenda for weeks or months, the country pays an invisible but enormous price, not in television ratings or social media engagement, but in delayed reforms, postponed investments, unrealized jobs, and lost opportunities.
In the end, the question is not simply who will win the impeachment trial. It is whether the Filipino people will lose what can never be recovered, TIME.
And no one should fault an impatient public for asking, “What’s in it for me?”