There was a time when conversations in public spaces sounded like conversations. You could disagree without being disagreeable. You could argue fiercely and still shake hands at the end.
Today, the public square has shrunk to glowing rectangles we carry in our pockets, and somewhere along the way, disagreement started to shout, mock, and wound.
Scroll long enough and you will notice a pattern. Issues dissolve into insults. Policies are reduced to personalities. Complex problems are flattened into sound bites designed to provoke rather than explain. What begins as frustration quickly becomes personal, and what could have been a constructive exchange turns into a humiliation contest. No one truly wins, except perhaps the systems that profit from the anger and confusion.
The tragedy is not that people care deeply about politics. Caring is healthy. Passion is necessary. A democracy without strong opinions is a democracy asleep. The tragedy is that passion has drifted away from purpose. Instead of being directed toward better ideas, better systems, and better leadership, it spills into suspicion and ridicule. The conversation stops being about the country and starts being about winning.
Imagine politics as a long road trip with millions of passengers. Everyone wants to get home safely, but everyone has a different idea of which road to take. Shouting at the driver, throwing things at fellow passengers, and breaking the windows does not bring anyone closer to the destination. It only guarantees a miserable journey. Constructive criticism, firm and informed, might actually help steer the vehicle.
Keeping the political conversation civil does not mean being soft. It does not mean silence in the face of wrongdoing, nor does it require forced agreement. Civility is not weakness. It is discipline. It is the choice to challenge ideas rather than attack people, to demand accountability while preserving dignity, and to criticize because you love the country enough to want it to be better.
There is also a role that cannot be ignored. Social media platforms are no longer neutral town plazas. They are more like households where millions gather daily. And like any household, values matter. A good parent does not allow shouting at the dinner table, nor do they reward cruelty with attention. Respect, generosity, and responsibility are taught, reinforced, and protected. Platforms that shape public conversation should aspire to the same standard, designing their spaces to encourage decency rather than to amplify division.
This matters deeply in a country like ours. Filipinos are family-oriented and value-driven. We grow up being taught respect for elders, concern for neighbors, and care for cthe ommunity. These values should not disappear the moment we log on. If anything, they should guide how we speak in the public realm.
For those exhausted by toxic feeds and relentless bad news, there is a quiet hope. Civility is contagious, too. One thoughtful post can interrupt a spiral of anger. One refusal to engage in personal attacks can reset the tone. One insistence on fairness can remind us why the conversation matters at all.
The public realm does not need less debate. It needs better debate. And perhaps the most radical act today is choosing to speak not louder, but better, with professionalism, patriotism, and care for the family we call a nation.