The release of the 2025 Philippine Bar Examination results last Wednesday sparked well-deserved celebrations for the thousands of new lawyers. But once the cheers fade, a heavier question inevitably follows. The anxiety of “Will I pass?” gives way to something deeper and more demanding: “What will I do now?” and, more importantly, “Who will I choose to be in this profession?”
This question matters because the Philippines needs lawyers now more than ever.
The legal profession stands at a critical crossroads. Repeated corruption scandals have weakened public trust in institutions meant to protect the people. In this climate, new lawyers are not merely fresh faces entering the profession; they are potential agents of renewal. Their oath is not just ceremonial; it is a challenge to practice law with integrity, courage, and a genuine commitment to justice.
Many of these newly minted attorneys will feel the pull of public service, toward government, NGOs, legal aid, or grassroots work where the law meets real lives. There, the work is rarely glamorous and is often underpaid, but its impact is undeniable. These lawyers will confront injustice not as an abstract concept, but as lived experience: the abused, the unheard, the forgotten. And in so doing, they can help restore the law’s true purpose to serve, not to shield, the powerful.
Their role, however, will not be confined to courtrooms. Lawyers are also educators and translators of the law in a country where legal knowledge is often inaccessible. By empowering citizens to understand their rights and responsibilities, they strengthen democracy itself. An informed public is the strongest defense against abuse of power.
Yet this path is not without danger. The same system that needs reform can also corrupt those who enter it. The temptation to compromise, to take shortcuts, to look away — these are real and persistent. That is why integrity must be a daily choice, not a slogan. New lawyers must recognize that they are watched, not because they are famous, but because their actions shape how people perceive justice.
In the end, passing the bar is only the beginning. The harder test is the one that follows: whether these lawyers will use their license to advance personal gain or public good. The question, “Who will I be after passing the bar?” is not personal alone; it is national in consequence.
The road ahead is difficult. But for those willing to walk it with honesty and courage, the opportunity to rebuild trust and help shape a better Philippines is real. These new lawyers carry more than titles; they carry hope. And with it, the responsibility to prove that the law can still be a force for good.