Cost of winning

More than a year after the flood control scandal exploded, after the hearings, the marches, the resignations, the promises of reform, and the endless declarations that this time things would be different, here we are again: looking at another national budget packed with red flags.

The Supreme Court recently struck down congressional increases and other provisions in the 2024 and 2025 budgets as unconstitutional. It also laid down clearer limits on unprogrammed appropriations, warning against lump sums, weak standards, and the kind of post-enactment discretion that can turn the budget into a playground for those looking to divert public funds into their own pockets.

One would think Congress might have taken the hint.

Instead, the People’s Budget Coalition says the House-approved P7.2-trillion 2027 budget contains more than P1 trillion in what it calls “red flags”: P210 billion in patronage-prone assistance, P695 billion in politicized infrastructure, and P112 billion in unprogrammed appropriations.

It also flagged nearly 7,000 infrastructure projects worth some P190 billion that were added by the House without publicly available attachments. About 6,200 of these are DPWH projects worth P172 billion.

To be clear, the absence of supporting documents does not automatically mean these projects are corrupt. But after everything we have learned about ghost flood control projects, questionable insertions, and contractors somehow winning billions in public works, surely the burden should now be on the government to explain more, not less.

Surely by now, the rule should be to err on the side of more transparency and more safeguards. Which leads us to the question: Why are we back here?

One explanation is painfully familiar: 2027 is the year before the national and local elections. That matters because in Philippine politics, elections are expensive. Very expensive.

Candidates need machinery, advertising, social media operations, local alliances, sorties, volunteers, watchers, and, yes, in many places, money for more unscrupulous things that never appear in any official statement of expenditures.

If politicians believe their survival depends on spending enormous amounts to win, then the temptation to treat public funds as political resources becomes almost structural.

This, of course, does not excuse corruption. It simply explains why it keeps returning.

We can investigate every ghost project, prosecute every contractor, and shame every legislator caught with a suspicious insertion. We should. But if our electoral system continues rewarding candidates who can spend the most, build the biggest patronage networks, and convert public programs into personal political capital, then every budget season will still remain an invitation.

The problem is not simply that some politicians are greedy. Though make no mistake, a lot of them are, it is that the incentives are rotten.

A road project can become a campaign billboard. Ayuda can become a favor from a politician instead of assistance from the state. A multipurpose building can become proof that Congressman X “delivered,” even though taxpayers paid for every peso of it. And so the cycle continues.

We rage at corruption, but continue to live with an electoral system that makes money indispensable to political survival. We demand cleaner budgets, then continue to reward politicians who bring home the biggest slice of pork with reelection.

If winning elections still depends on how much money a candidate can spend, we should not be shocked when those already in office keep finding creative ways to make sure there is plenty of money to spend.

Maybe the real reform has to begin there.