Maituturing ba nating intelektuwal ang wikang Filipino? Isa ito sa mga tanong na minsan kong ibinato sa aking klase. Hati ang sagot ng mga mag-aaral. May buong kumpiyansa at malakas na sumasagot ng “Oo!” Mayroon namang mariing nagsabi ng “Hindi!” At mayroon ding nanatiling tahimik, nakatingin lamang at tila naghihintay kung ano ang magiging sagot o marahil ay hindi pa talaga nakabuo ng sariling pananaw tungkol dito.

Ngunit kung ikaw ang tatanungin: Maituturing ba nating intelektuwal ang wikang Filipino? Sa unang tingin, maaaring sabihin ng ilan na ang Filipino ay simpleng wika lamang ng pang-araw-araw na pakikipag-usap. Ginagamit natin ito sa tahanan, sa palengke, sa pakikipagkuwentuhan, sa social media, at sa karaniwang pakikipamuhay. Samantala, kapag pinag-uusapan na ang siyensiya, teknolohiya, batas, pilosopiya, pananaliksik, at iba pang larangan ng akademya, tila mas madaling lumipat sa Ingles.

Marahil ay dito tayo nagkakaroon ng problema. Hindi ba’t ang isang wika ay nagiging intelektuwal hindi dahil sa pangalan nito, kundi dahil sa lawak at lalim ng mga kaisipang naipapahayag nito? Kung kayang gamitin ang Filipino upang talakayin ang batas, ekonomiya, kasaysayan, agham, teknolohiya, pilosopiya, pananaliksik, at maging ang mga bagong usapin tungkol sa artificial intelligence, bakit natin ito ituturing na mababa o kulang? Ang tunay na tanong marahil ay hindi kung intelektuwal ba ang Filipino, kundi ginagamit ba natin ito sa mga gawaing intelektuwal?

Ang Filipino ay Higit pa sa pangngalan, pandiwa at pang-uri

Minsan ay may nagtanong sa akin kung bakit maging ang Konstitusyon 1987 ay pinag-aaralan sa aking klase. Ang sagot ko ay simple: “Bakit hindi!” Ang Konstitusyon ang pinakamataas na batas ng ating bansa. At bagama’t gasgas na marahil ang kasabihang “Ignorance of the law excuses no one,” nananatili itong mahalagang prinsipyo na hindi maaaring gawing dahilan ang kamangmangan sa batas upang takasan ang pananagutan.

Ngunit bakit ito nauugnay sa Filipino? Sapagkat ang wika ay hindi lamang instrumento ng pakikipag-usap. Ito ay instrumento ng pag-unawa. Ang mga batas, karapatan, tungkulin, patakaran, at prinsipyo ng ating lipunan ay kailangang maunawaan ng mamamayan. At paano natin mauunawaan ang isang bagay kung hindi natin ito kayang ipaliwanag sa wikang nauunawaan ng nakararami?

Maging ang wika mismo ay kinikilala sa ating Saligang Batas. Kaya hindi kataka-takang maging bahagi ng pag-aaral ng Filipino ang mga konseptong may kaugnayan sa lipunan, batas, kultura, kasaysayan, komunikasyon, at iba pang larangan ng kaalaman.

Marahil ay nagtataka ang ilan kung bakit sa isang “simpleng” asignaturang Filipino ay pinag-aaralan ang mga batas, teorya, isyung panlipunan, kasaysayan, kultura, at maging mga usaping pandaigdig. Nasanay kasi tayo sa tradisyunal na pagtingin sa Filipino na pinag-aaralan lamang ang simpleng gramatikang aralin tulad ng pangngalan, pandiwa, pang-uri, pang-abay, simuno at panaguri, ayos ng pangungusap, at wastong paggamit ng mga salita.

Mahalaga ang mga ito. Ngunit hindi dito nagtatapos ang Filipino. Ang Filipino ay hindi lamang pag-aaral ng estruktura ng wika. Ito ay pag-aaral kung paano ginagamit ang wika upang mag-isip, mangatuwiran, magsuri, makipagtalastasan, lumikha, magpahayag ng saloobin, at higit sa lahat - bumuo ng kaalaman.

Sa katunayan, minsan ay tayo mismo ang nagiging dayuhan sa sarili nating wika. Nakapagsasalita tayo ng Filipino ngunit nahihirapang gamitin ito sa mga diskursong akademiko. Mas komportable tayong magsulat ng isang konsepto sa Ingles kaysa subukang ipaliwanag ito sa Filipino. At dito natin kailangang baguhin ang ating pananaw.

Ang Filipino bilang De Facto at De Jure

Mahalagang maunawaan ang kalagayan ng Filipino sa pamamagitan ng konsepto ng de facto at de jure. Ang de jure ay tumutukoy sa kung ano ang kinikilala at itinatakda ng batas, samantalang ang de facto ay tumutukoy sa kung ano ang aktuwal na umiiral at ginagamit sa lipunan. Sa usapin ng Filipino, mahalagang pag-isahin ang dalawang ito. Hindi sapat na kinikilala lamang ng batas ang Filipino bilang wikang pambansa. Kailangang makita rin ang tunay at malawak nitong gamit sa buhay ng mga Pilipino.

May tiyak na gampanin ang Filipino bilang wikang pambansa, wikang opisyal, at wikang panturo. Malinaw ang batayang konstitusyonal nito. Ayon sa Artikulo XIV, Seksyon 6 ng 1987 Saligang Batas: “Ang wikang pambansa ng Pilipinas ay Filipino. Samantalang nililinang, ito ay dapat payabungin at pagyamanin pa salig sa umiiral na mga wika sa Pilipinas at iba pang mga wika.”

Samakatuwid, ang Filipino ay hindi isang wikang dapat manatiling nakapirmi. Ito ay buhay at dinamiko. Isang wikang dapat na patuloy na nililinang, pinayayaman, at pinauunlad.

Kung gayon, hindi sapat ang mababaw na pagpapahalaga rito. May mahalagang paalala ang Bibliya sa Mateo 23:27–28 tungkol sa mga mapagpaimbabaw na inihalintulad sa mga pinaputing libingan, maganda sa labas ngunit marumi sa loob. Bagama’t ibang konteksto ang tinutukoy ng talata, maaari itong maging makabuluhang metapora sa ating pagtingin sa pagpapahalaga sa wika. Hindi malilinang ang Filipino kung hanggang pagpapakitang panlabas lamang ang pagpapahalaga natin dito.

Hindi sapat ang pagsusuot ng katutubong kasuotan tuwing Agosto. Hindi sapat ang pagdaraos ng paligsahan sa pagsulat, pagbigkas ng tula, o pagsayaw. Hindi sapat ang pagsasabing mahal natin ang Filipino kung nililimitahan naman natin ang pag-aaral, paggamit, at paglinang dito. Higit sa lahat, magiging malaking suliranin kung unti-unting mawawala ang puwang ng Filipino sa mga paaralan at unibersidad.

Ang mga paaralan ay hindi lamang lugar kung saan ginagamit ang wika. Ang mga ito ay mga institusyong lumilikha, nagpapalaganap, at nagpapanatili ng kaalaman. Kung aalisin natin ang Filipino sa mga espasyong ito, saan natin ito gagamitin upang maging ganap na wika ng intelektuwal at diskurso?

Kung nais nating makamit ang tinatawag na intelektuwalisasyon ng wika, kailangang magamit ang Filipino sa mas mataas na antas ng pag-iisip at sa iba’t ibang larangan ng kaalaman at hindi lamang sa karaniwang pakikipag-usap.

Hindi Lamang Tagalog ang Filipino

Mahalaga ring linawin na ang Filipino ay hindi simpleng katumbas lamang ng Tagalog. Ang Tagalog ay nagsilbing mahalagang batayan sa pagbuo ng wikang pambansa, ngunit ang Filipino bilang wikang pambansa ay patuloy na umuunlad at pinayayaman ng iba’t ibang wika sa Pilipinas at iba pang wika sa bansa.

Sa tala ng Komisyon sa Wikang Filipino, kinikilala ang malawak na bilang ng mga katutubong wika sa bansa. Ang mga wikang ito ay hindi dapat ituring na kalaban ng Filipino. Sa halip, maaari silang maging bukal ng kayamanan ng wikang pambansa. Ang mga salita, konsepto, ekspresyon, pananaw, at karanasang nagmumula sa Iloko, Waray, Cebuano, Hiligaynon, Bikol, Kapampangan, Pangasinan, Maranao, Tausug, at marami pang ibang wika ay bahagi ng mas malawak na yaman ng ating bansa.

Maging ang mga wikang dayuhan ay maaaring makatulong sa pagpapalawak ng Filipino. Sa globalisasyon, natural lamang ang panghihiram at pag-aangkop ng mga salita at konsepto. Ang mahalaga ay ginagamit natin ang mga ito upang higit na mapalawak ang kakayahan ng Filipino bilang wika ng kaalaman. Kung gayon, ang pag-unlad ng Filipino ay hindi nangangahulugang paghihiwalay nito sa ibang mga wika. Sa halip, ito ay pakikipag-ugnayan sa mga ito.

Dito natin higit na mauunawaan ang konsepto ng intelektuwalisasyon ng Filipino: ang paghubog sa Filipino bilang wikang may kakayahang magpahayag ng masalimuot na kaisipan at magamit sa iba’t ibang disiplina tulad ng agham, teknolohiya, batas, medisina, edukasyon, ekonomiya, pananaliksik, pilosopiya, at iba pa. Ang Filipino ay hindi kailangang maging sarado upang maging matatag. Ang isang buhay na wika ay lumalago dahil marunong itong tumanggap, umangkop, at lumikha.

Tagalog, Pilipino, at Filipino

Kung babalikan ang kasaysayan, makikita nating ang wikang pambansa ay dumaan sa mahaba at masalimuot na proseso. Noong Disyembre 30, 1937, pormal na ipinahayag ni Pangulong Manuel L. Quezon, sa pamamagitan ng Kautusang Tagapagpaganap Blg. 134, na ang Tagalog ang magiging batayan ng wikang pambansa. At sa paglipas ng panahon, nagkaroon ng pagbabago sa katawagan nito. Noong 1959, sa pamamagitan ng kautusan ni Kalihim Jose E. Romero, tinawag na Pilipino ang wikang pambansa.

Samantala, noong Marso 26, 1954, nilagdaan ni Pangulong Ramon Magsaysay ang proklamasyon na nagtakda sa pagdiriwang ng Linggo ng Wika tuwing Agosto 13–19. Kalaunan, binago at pinalawak ang panahon ng pagdiriwang. At noong 1997, sa bisa ng Proklamasyon Blg. 1041 na nilagdaan ni Pangulong Fidel V. Ramos, itinakda ang buong buwan ng Agosto bilang Buwan ng Wikang Pambansa, na higit na nakilala bilang Buwan ng Wika.

Sa ilalim naman ng 1987 Saligang Batas, malinaw na itinakda na Filipino ang wikang pambansa ng Pilipinas. Ang kasaysayang ito ay nagpapakita na ang Filipino ay hindi isang wikang bigla na lamang lumitaw. Ito ay produkto ng mahabang proseso ng pagpili, paggamit, paglinang, pagbabago, at patuloy na pakikipag-ugnayan sa iba’t ibang wika at kultura.

Kaya ang Filipino ngayon ay hindi lamang dapat tingnan bilang bunga ng nakaraan. Ito ay isang proyektong patuloy nating binubuo, nililinang at tutulungan upang maabot ang tunay na kakayahan nito.

Kapangyarihan ng Wika

May kapangyarihan ba ang wika? Ito ang isa sa mga tanong ko sa aking klase sa tuwing tinatalakay namin ang usapin at sitwasyon ng wika sa bansa. Sasagot sila ng “Yes! Oo! May kapangyarihan ang wika! Ang wika ay may kapangyarihan sapagkat ito ang daluyan ng kaisipan. Sa wika rin nabubuo ang pagkakakilanlan ng isang tao at ng isang bayan. Sa pamamagitan ng wika, nagagawa natin makapagpahayag, naipararating natin ang ating saloobin, ideya, maging ng ating nararamdaman. Ngunit kung dadalumatin ang tanong na ito, may kapangyarihan ba talaga ang wika? Ang sagot ay wala! Akala mo lang meron pero wala, wala, wala talaga itong kapangyarihan. Kung babalikan ang kahulugan nito, ang wika ay instrumento. “Nagsisilbing instrumento ng isip. Sa pamamagitan ng wika ay umuunlad ang kaisipan. Sa pag-unlad naman ng kaisipan ay umuunlad ang wika.” (Constantino, 1996).

At tulad ng isang gamit, kung hindi natin ito gagamitin, hindi nito magagawa ang kanyang layunin. Sa kasaysayan, bago dumating si Johan Wolfgang von Goethe, mahusay lamang ang Aleman para sa barbarians. Bago dumating si Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin, ang Russian ay mahusay lamang at ginamit sa pag-toast ng vodka. At bago dumating si William Shakespeare, ang Ingles ay mahusay lamang sa isang sakop. (De Quiros, 1995) Tinahak ng mga wikang ito ang intelektuwalisasyon at ginamit sa gawaing intelektuwal na luminang dito. Samakatuwid, ang husay ng lengguwahe na nagsisilbing kapangyarihan ay nasa mga taong gumagamit nito.

Huwag din natin palagiang gawing dahilan na wala tayong panumbas o salin sa Filipino. Ang malaking tanong ay bakit? Sa ika-89 na paggunita natin ng ating wikang pambansa, hindi natin pwedeng idahilan ito palagian. Malaki rin ang pagkakaiba ng: paghango at pagpapalit, at paghihiram at pangongopya. At kadalasan nasasanay tayo sa panghihiram at pangongopya. Sa tuwing ginagawa natin ito, hindi natin namamalayang nababansot at nalilimot natin ang ating wikang pambansa na dapat nating bigyan ng pansin at pahalagahan dahil sumasalamin ito sa ating pagkakakilanlan at bansa. At kung gagamitin natin ito ng tama hindi malayong maaabot din natin ang ginawa nina Pushkin, Goethe, at Shakespeare sa kani-kanilang mga bansa sa usapin ng paggamit ng kanilang wika.

Filipino sa Unibersidad: Wika ng Kaalaman at Pananaliksik

Ang Filipino ay hindi lamang tumutukoy sa isang asignatura sa unibersidad na kailangang kunin ng isang mag-aaral upang pumasa. Kung tunay ring ipinagdiriwang at lubos na pinahahalagahan ito, walang Pilipinong dapat na magsabing Filipino lang yan! At walang mangangahas na Pilipinong nag-iisip na tangalin ito sa kurikulum ng edukasyon sa lahat ng antas ng pag-aaral. Dahil malalim na nakaugat dito ang ating pagkakakilanlan. Isang simpleng salita ngunit higit na malaki ang ipinapakahulugan, lampas pa sa kakayahan ng isip ng tao upang higit itong maunawaan.

Mas malaki rin ang hamong kinakaharap ng mga unibersidad at kolehiyo sa bansa salig sa DO #52, serye, 1987 na nagsasabing “Tertiary level institutions shall lead in the continuing intellectualization of Filipino. Malinaw, lantad, at mapanghamon ang tungkulin ito – ang intelektuwalisasyon ay dapat isinusulong at ginagawa sa mga unibersidad at kolehiyo. Ang unibersidad ay nagsisilbing balon ng tubig na panggagalingan ng mga intelektuwal na tutulong upang umunlad ito. Sa antas ng unibersidad, higit na kailangang palawakin ang ating pananaw tungkol sa Filipino. Kung ang Filipino ay para lamang sa mababang antas ng pag-aaral, kailan natin ito magiging ganap na wika ng kaalaman? Ang unibersidad ay lugar nang malalim na pag-iisip, pananaliksik, pagsusuri, debate, at pagbuo ng bagong kaalaman. Kaya nararapat lamang na ang Filipino ay magkaroon ng espasyo sa akademikong diskurso.

Hindi nangangahulugang kailangang alisin ang Ingles. Mahalaga rin ang Ingles bilang pandaigdigang wika ng akademya at pananaliksik at pangalawa at opisyal na wika . Ngunit hindi rin nangangahulugang wala nang puwang ang Filipino sa akademya.

Kung babalikan, mula nang ito ay naitalaga noong 1937 at sa ngayon ay 88 taong gulang na ito, maituturing pa rin itong bata kumpara sa mga wika sa daigdig kaya marapat lamang na tulungan natin itong linangin upang umunlad at maabot nito ang buong potensiyal nito. Nagpapatunay rito ang patuloy na adaptasyon ng mga salitang Filipino sa pandaigdigang diksyunaryo ng Oxford (2015) tulad ng baranggay, pasalubong, sando, KKB, mani-pedi, videoke, lumpia, kababayan at marami pang iba (2015). At ang bagong salitang dinagdag ang kilig (2016) at gigil (2025) ng Oxford English Dictionary. Nagpapatunay lamang ito nang maaaring kontribusyon ng Filipino sa pandaigdigang wika ng mundo. Taong 2023, ginulat din tayo ng mundo matapos magbukas ng kursong Tagalog (Filipino) ang Harvard University (2023) at sinundan pa ng Yale University. Patuloy ring pinalalakas ang Tagalog (Filipino) courses sa iba’t ibang unibersidad sa mundo. Nakikita nila ang Filipino, bilang potensiyal at mayamang wika na mag-aambag sa pandaigdigang salita o wika. Sa mga kaganapang ito, mapapasabi ka na lamang ng ‘Sana all’ ganito nakikita ang wika! Dahil sa Pilipinas kung saan ito nagmula ay pilit inaalis ang pag-aaral ng Filipino.

Sa halip, dapat tayong maging bilingguwal o multilingguwal sa pagbuo at pagbabahagi ng kaalaman. Maaari tayong magsaliksik sa Ingles, Filipino, o iba pang wika. Maaari nating basahin ang mga pandaigdigang literatura at pagkatapos ay ipaliwanag ang mga ito sa Filipino upang mas maraming Pilipino ang makinabang. Dito nagiging mahalaga ang Filipino: ginagawa nitong mas abot-kamay ang kaalaman lalo na sa mga unibersidad.

Bakit may pagdiriwang? Anong mayroon?

Kailangan pa ba talaga nating ipagdiwang ang Buwan ng Wika at kailangan talagang isang buong buwan upang ipaalala sa atin na mayroon tayong pambansang wika? Kung tunay natin itong pinahahalagahan, hindi ba dapat ay ginagamit at iginagalang natin ito araw-araw? At kung dadalumatin at lalapatan ng may kritikal na pag-iisip may punto ang ganitong tanong.

Sa katunayan, tayo lamang sa buong mundo ang nagdiriwang ng Buwan ng Wika. Tila ipinapamukha sa atin nito taon-taon na tayo ay may pambansang wika at ito ay ang Filipino. Ang tanong bakit nga ba kailangang ipaalala ito sa atin? Ang buwan ng Agosto ay tila nagiging isang pagdiriwang lamang at pagpapamalas ng husay sa pagsulat ng sanaysay, tagisan ng talino, pagbigkas ng tula, sabayang pagbigkas, sayaw, at iba’t ibang palaro at pakulo sa klase. Oo! Tamang ipagdiwang natin ito ngunit hindi lamang dapat dito nakakahon ang tunay na kahulugan nito.

Walang masama sa mga ito. Ngunit hindi dapat doon nagtatapos ang Buwan ng Wika. Kung ang pagdiriwang ay natatapos kasabay ng huling paligsahan sa Agosto, maaaring hindi natin tunay na nauunawaan ang kahulugan nito. Ang Buwan ng Wika ay dapat maging pagkakataon upang tanungin natin ang ating sarili:

Paano ko ginagamit ang Filipino sa pagkatuto?

Paano ko ginagamit ang wika upang ipahayag ang aking pananaw?

Paano ko ginagamit ang Filipino upang maunawaan ang aking kapwa?

Paano ko ginagamit ang wika upang pangalagaan ang ating kultura?

At higit sa lahat: Paano ko ginagamit ang Filipino upang makabuo at makapagbahagi ng kaalaman?

At kung totoong mahalaga sa atin ito, hindi ba dapat araw-araw o buong taon nating kinikilala ang mahalagang papel nitong ginagampanan sa pagpapatibay ng ating pagkakakilanlan, kultura, at naging daan sa pagkakaisa at lingua franca ng bansa.

Isang Hámon sa Tunay na Kahalagahan ng Buwan ng Wika

Mahalagang balikan ang kasaysayan ng pagdiriwang ng Buwan ng Wika. Ang paggunita sa wika tuwing Agosto ay may kaugnayan sa pagkilala sa ating pambansang wika at sa paggunita sa mga mahahalagang yugto sa kasaysayan ng wikang pambansa.

Ang kasaysayang ito ay nagpapaalala na ang wika ay hindi basta-basta nabuo. Ito ay bunga ng mahabang proseso ng pakikipag-ugnayan, pagpapasya, pagbabago, at paghubog ng isang bansa. Kaya ang Agosto ay hindi lamang panahon ng kasuotan, palamuti, paligsahan, at programa. Ito ay panahon upang balikan kung sino tayo, saan tayo nagmula, at kung paano natin gagamitin ang ating wika upang harapin ang hinaharap.

Hindi masama ang pagdiriwang. Ngunit higit na mahalaga ang pagpapatuloy. Kung tunay na mahalaga ang Filipino, hindi ito dapat manatili sa silid-aralan. Dapat itong marinig sa mga talakayang akademiko, makita sa mga pananaliksik, magamit sa mga pampublikong impormasyon, mapakinabangan sa teknolohiya, at maging bahagi ng ating pang-araw-araw na buhay.

Ang tunay na tagumpay ng Buwan ng Wika ay hindi nasusukat sa dami ng paligsahang napanalunan kundi sa lawak ng paggamit, pagpapahalaga, at pag-unawa natin sa ating wika.

Kaya, intelektuwal ba ang wikang Filipino? Ang sagot ay hindi pa! Sa pagpapalanong pangwika ni Haugen (1966) kailangan nating gamitin at linangin ang ating wika at gawin ang propagasyon at elaborasyon ng wika. Kung nais nating maging intelektuwal ang wikang Filipino, kailangan nating maging seryoso at dagdagan pa ang pagmamahal dito. Higit pa, kailangan lamang tayong maniwala na kaya ito ng ating wika upang tuloy-tuloy nating mapalitan at makalikha ng mga salita tungo sa intelektuwalisasyon ng wikang Filipino.

Ngunit ang pagiging intelektuwal ng Filipino ay hindi dapat manatiling isang pahayag lamang. Kailangan natin itong patunayan sa pamamagitan ng paggamit nito sa intelektuwal na gawain. Gamitin natin ito sa pananaliksik, pagtuturo, pagsusuri ng mga isyung panlipunan, batas, agham, teknolohiya at iba pang larangan ng kaalaman, at pakikipag-usap sa ating kapwa upang maging mabisa ang ating komunikasyon.

At sa panahon ng artificial intelligence, gamitin natin ito upang mas mapalawak ang access sa impormasyon habang nananatiling mapanuri, responsable, at makatao. Hindi kailangang maging sarado ang Filipino sa ibang wika upang mapatunayan ang halaga nito. Sa halip, dapat itong maging bukas sa mga bagong salita, bagong konsepto, bagong teknolohiya, at bagong paraan ng paglikha ng kaalaman.

Dahil ang wika ay buhay. Nagbabago ito. Lumalawak ito. Nakikibagay ito. At kung nais nating mabuhay ang Filipino sa susunod pang mga henerasyon, hindi sapat na ipagdiwang lamang natin ito tuwing Agosto. Kailangan natin itong gamitin, pagyamanin, ituro, at saliksikin. At higit sa lahat, gamitin ito bilang wika ng pag-iisip, pananaliksik, kaalaman, at pagbabago.

Sa huli, marahil ay hindi na dapat itanong kung intelektuwal ba ang wikang Filipino. Ang mas mahalagang tanong ay: “Kailan natin sisimulang gamitin ang Filipino bilang tunay na wika ng ating intelektuwal na buhay?” At ang sagot ay maaaring magsimula sa atin ngayon, hindi lamang ngayong Agosto, kundi araw-araw.

Sanggunian:

Ang Salita ng Diyos & Ang Bagong Tipan: Filipino Standard Version. (n.d.). Bible Gateway. Retrieved August 31, 2026, from https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Mateo%2023%3A1-36&version=SND;FSV

Constantino, R. (1996). Intelektuwalismo at Wika. Mga Piling Diskurso sa Wika at Lipunan. Lunsod Quezon: University of the Philippines Press, 1996.

Conrado, D. (1995) “Ang Kapangyarihan ng Wika, ang Wika ng Kapangyarihan” Ang Wikang Filipino sa Loob at Labas ng Akademya, p.28-33.

De Quiros, C. (2003). Ang kapangyarihan ng wika, ang wika ng kapangyarihan. Ang wikang Filipino sa loob at labas ng akademya’t bansa (pp. 28–33).

Harvard Gazette. (2023, August 30). Preceptors hired for Tagalog, Indonesian language courses. https://news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/newsplus/preceptors-hired-for-tagalog-indonesian-language-courses/

Haugen, E. (1972). Dialect, language, nation. In A. S. Dil (Ed.), The ecology of language: Essays by Einar Haugen (pp. 237–254). Stanford University Press. (Original work published 1966)

Komisyon sa Wikang Filipino. (n.d.). Alam mo ba? KWF Diksiyonaryo ng Wikang Filipino. Retrieved August 31, 2026, from

http://kwfdiksiyonaryo.ph/?query=suy%C3%B2

Komisyon sa Wikang Filipino. (2014). KWF manwal sa masinop na pagsulat (V. S. Almario, Ed.). https://kwfwikaatkultura.ph/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Manwal-sa-Masinop-na-Pagsulat.pdf

Komisyon sa Wikang Filipino. (2015). In V. Almario (Ed.), Sagisag Kultura (Vol 1). Manila: National Commission for Culture and the Arts. Retrieved from https://philippineculturaleducation.com.ph/komisyon-sa-wikang-filipino/

Lavelle, D. (2025, March 27). Gigil: word for ‘cute aggression’ among new entries to Oxford English Dictionary. The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/books/2025/mar/27/gigil-word-describing-cute-aggression-among-new-entries-to-oxford-english-dictionary

Oxford University Press. (n.d.). Kilig, adj. & n. In Oxford English dictionary. Retrieved August 31, 2026, from https://doi.org/10.1093/OED/9050274526

Philippine Cultural Education Online. (2015). Komisyon sa Wikang Filipino. https://philippineculturaleducation.com.ph/komisyon-sa-wikang-filipino/

Rappler. (2016, April 15). ‘Kilig’ is now in the Oxford English Dictionary. https://www.rappler.com/the-wrap/129556-kilig-oxford-english-dictionary/

The 1987 Constitution of the Republic of the Philippines. (1987, February 2). Official Gazette of the Republic of the Philippines. https://www.officialgazette.gov.ph/constitutions/1987-constitution/

The lecture aimed to equip the students with essential storytelling skills and prepare them for their careers in the entertainment industry, not just as writers and creatives, but also as storytellers capable of connecting with humanity.

The program began with a simulation of a morning talk show, featuring esteemed speakers such as TV5 actress and host-anchor Dimples Romana, News 5 anchor-documentarist Nikki De Guzman, and TV5 creative manager Ruth Peña-Padriga. Together, they emphasized the importance of storytelling as a universal medium and its humbling power when grounded in the truth, reminding students of their task as creatives.

As Romana put it, “The best stories we tell are the ones we do not own—more than the technical [aspects] but also [of] the mindset.”

Peña-Padriga shared her expertise as a creative manager for TV5, affirming the personal fulfillment of becoming a creative pillar of the industry. She stated: “When you are a writer, you are also a producer. You have to trust the process because there is beauty in waiting. Do the homework before the hard work.”

After the talk show segment, De Guzman delivered a talk on documentary storytelling, outlining the medium’s field principles and writing guidelines. Among these, she highlighted that the writer’s role is to build the human context and uncover the emotional truth through active listening and authentic trust. She closed the program with a striking reminder: “Build an archive of human dignity—one story at a time.”

After a brief Q&A session with the students, SCM Dean Dr. Jerry Kliatchko thanked the speakers for sharing their insights and reminded students of their invaluable roles not just as creatives in the entertainment industry, but above all, as humans capable of connecting through the power of storytelling.

As national elections approach, a continuous stream of public opinion polls seeks to gauge voter sentiment—especially regarding the race for the presidency. Among these, WR Numero’s June 2026 Philippine Public Opinion Monitor (PPOM) stands out as a trusted benchmark. Based on a nationally representative survey of 1,500 Filipino adults across diverse social classes, generations, and regions, the study provides valuable insights into the attitudes, behaviors, and preferences shaping political decision-making.

Data indicate that Vice President Sara Duterte remains a dominant force in Philippine politics, and is strongly positioned to secure the presidency in 2028. In terms of factional partisanship, 37 percent identified themselves as supporters of Duterte and her allies, compared to 18 percent for the Marcos camp and 20 percent for the Opposition (e.g., Leni Robredo and allies). Duterte’s support has remained virtually unchanged since March 2025 (38 percent). Her core support is validated by a 55 percent positive assessment of her performance as vice president. Thus, at the time of the survey, she has a commanding pre-election lead for the presidency at 39.4 percent —nearly double her nearest rival, Leni Robredo (20.9 percent). Even a combined vote share of Robredo and third-place contender Raffy Tulfo (14.2 percent) would not surpass Duterte’s base. Furthermore, fourth-place contender Bong Go (3.6 percent) is likely to consolidate his votes behind Duterte.

Voter preferences for Vice President support these numbers. The top two VP choices are both Duterte allies: Robin Padilla (21.3 percent) and Bong Go (20.6 percent), whose ratings grew by 9.6 percent and 8.4 percent since March 2025, respectively.

Similarly, the survey results in the senatorial race validate the support for Sara Duterte. According to the WR Numero data, six of the top eight senators rated for good performance are Duterte allies: Alan Peter Cayetano (24 percent), Robin Padilla (23 percent), Bong Go (19 percent), Rodante Marcoleta (16 percent), Pia Cayetano (14 percent), and Bato dela Rosa (13 percent). And if elections are held today, Duterte allies dominate the top ten, led by Robin Padilla (#1 at 39 percent), Alan Peter Cayetano (34 percent), Loren Legarda (32 percent), Sebastian “Baste” Duterte (29 percent), and Paolo “Pulong” Duterte (28 percent).

As regards the public’s perception of the ongoing impeachment process against the Vice President, 54 percent oppose her impeachment, and 42 percent believe that evidence against her is weak.

Though Duterte holds a clear advantage, viable counter-strategies exist for opposing factions. It may seem simplistic but the math for an anti-Duterte coalition can be a possibility if political strategy is designed to achieve that objective. Combining the Opposition base (20 percent) and the Marcos faction (18 percent) creates a combined 38 percent, which can challenge the Duterte machinery if unified with some of the undecided population (24 percent).

In a head-to-head scenario between Duterte and Robredo according to PPOM, the former leads 50 percent to 40 percent. A 10-point gap remains winnable for Robredo if she decides to run and successfully siphons undecided voters (10 percent) and anti-Duterte blocs. Analyzing the demographics, Robredo leads in Metro Manila (49.59 percent vs. 41.42 percent) and Rest of Luzon (55.33 percent vs. 27.81 percent) while Duterte dominates Mindanao overwhelmingly (95.04 percent) and Visayas (56.19 percent vs. 38.56 percent). In terms of socioeconomic class: Robredo leads in Class ABC (49.94 percent vs. 42.67 percent), whereas Duterte leads in Class D (57.13 percent vs. 36.05 percent) and Class E (49.01 percent vs.39.28 percent). These data provide the Robredo team valuable inputs in designing her campaign strategy should she decide to run for the presidency. Getting the active support of two senators who enjoy strong net positive standings in terms of performance in the Senate, Senators Raffy Tulfo (#1 good performer at 25 percent) and Bam Aquino (#4 good performer at 22 percent), would definitely boost Robredo’s chance.

What about the Marcos factor? Despite holding the top executive power for the past years, President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. faces weak voter allegiance and declining approval numbers. Only 18 percent of survey respondents align with the Marcos camp, placing him behind both the Duterte faction (37 percent) and the Opposition (20 percent). Marcos also trails Duterte sharply in satisfaction, recording a 36 percent approval rating against Duterte’s 55 percent, while his dissatisfaction stands at 55 percent compared to Duterte’s 35 percent. Given these numbers, forming a strong alliance with Robredo and other anti-Duterte forces appears to be a necessary strategic move for Marcos to secure his political future.

It’s not solely a numbers game definitely, but numbers can suggest what to do now to achieve a desired outcome.

This article originally appeared on 15 August 2026 in Dr Alviar’s Manila Bulletin column, “Inciting Insights.”

The views expressed here are the author’s and do not necessarily reflect those of the Publication and the University.

Between weekly ferry rides from Batangas to Romblon and long nights in session, Montojo has pushed his council toward livestreamed sessions, an official social media presence, and a still-unrealized dream of a Romblon Municipal Youth Parliament. Below, he talks about what it means to hold both a student ID and a councilor’s seat, why he thinks time is the real engine of change, and what he’d tell students who want to follow a similar path.

Wearing two hats: youth and public service

Tanya Rafanan: The Asian Pillar Award recognizes youth leadership and public service. How does your work in Romblon reflect both?

Miguel Montojo: There was already an SK (Sangguniang Kabataan) when I started, so I didn’t want to just occupy one lane meant for young people. I chose to be an all-rounder instead—a councilor, an at-large chairman, wholehearted about public service. That’s how I see youth leadership and public service tying together. We don’t want to misrepresent youth as a demographic that can only handle one kind of responsibility. As the first Gen Z regularly elected councilor, I felt I had to show that I was ready for the job and ready to excel at it.

Tanya: You’re both a UA&P student and an elected official. How have those two roles shaped each other?

Miguel: Paradoxically, they’ve made each other both harder and easier. Harder physically, I have to take the roro (boat) every week just to go home for sessions. There’s no direct flight to Romblon, so it’s a two-hour bus ride to Batangas, three hours at the port, then nine hours by roro. Twenty-eight hours of travel, back and forth, every single week. That leaves me about 5.8 days for everything else.

But it’s made easier by the fact that studying Political Economy isn’t purely theoretical for me—it’s lived experience. When a professor discussed the evolution of roro transport in the country, I wasn’t just learning it; I was living it. Being in public service keeps school from becoming abstract; it’s something I apply instantly, every day. And being a student keeps public service from becoming purely political—it keeps me grounded, reminds me how much I still don’t know, and that’s what keeps me from sitting on any laurels.

What the classroom can’t teach

Tanya: What has public service taught you that you couldn’t have learned in a classroom?

Miguel: This one’s a little controversial depending on where you sit politically. I started out as an activist—a leftist. Public service shifted me toward the center-left. Sixteen-year-old me would never have imagined ending up here.

Being a student, especially in Poleco, pushes you toward idealism, which isn’t bad in itself. Knowing what’s right and pushing for it matters. What moved me toward the center was realizing, through lived experience, that being right isn’t enough. Just because you know what’s right doesn’t mean it’s immediately possible. Youth idealism wants change done yesterday, which is strange, because we’re the ones with the most time.

Public service taught me that a lot of things that ought to be simply cannot be yet because of budget constraints, because of institutional friction. I’ve had to factor in that some staff don’t know how to use Word or Google Docs. Half the population doesn’t know how to use the internet or apps, so pushing for digital governance means accounting for that gap too. Some things, only time can solve.

Time is the greatest catalyst for change, not political will. Political will matters; we need it, but time is what allows political will to actually materialize into something real. If we stay impatient and idealistic without end, we just burn out, and we become the very people we resent—the ones who say “ganyan talaga“ and give up. So patience is what you need.

The catalyst to run

Tanya: You’ve pushed for major changes in the council. What made you decide it was time to act?

Miguel: My catalyst for running in the first place was hearing from staff that a councilor was playing Mobile Legends during a session. That angered me. A councilor’s salary isn’t a secret, and it’s substantial. In Romblon, it’s about 1.08 million pesos a year. To find out someone was gaming through a session, asleep on the job. It’s deeply insulting, especially when we keep saying “kabataan ang pag-asa ng bayan.” We rarely see that in action. It’s almost just a slogan. The youth keeps getting set aside for ceremonial roles.

When I decided to run, a lot of people assumed it was because my father—the mayor—told me to. Classic political dynasty assumption. In reality, he didn’t want me to run. His words were something like, “Wag muna, hindi ka pa nga tapos mag-college.” I told him, “Pa, your councilors suck. They’re overpaid to do nothing. Pumasok, umupo, makinig, pumirma, umalis, and then sahod na.” That position should be making change, and instead we’re spending a million pesos a year on very little.

Accountability as a discipline

Tanya: In one of your public speeches, you said, “Wala nang mauupo lang, wala nang magpapahinga sa konsehong ito.“ What does accountability look like to you in local politics?

Miguel: The full quote is actually, “Wala nang mauupo lang, wala nang magpapahinga sa konsehong ito, muling may nakikinabang.” No more MLBB during session. I wanted to show, not in a mayabang way, that things could be different. That’s also why I ran for the chairmanship of the Committee on Rules. I wanted rules that ensure we’re functioning at maximum capacity. I wanted to be remembered as someone who institutionalized transparency and accountability, not just talked about them.

It’s easy to say “transparency and accountability.” It’s much harder once you’re actually in the seat. I didn’t want to be “all talk and no action,” so the first thing I did was establish an online presence. It might be uncomfortable to admit, but social media is now the dominant channel for public information; more people will see something online than at the palengke. There was no livestream, no Facebook page before, so I started with myself.

The next step was pushing the whole council—the Sangguniang Bayan—to have its own Facebook page, so ordinances and resolutions come from an official source. Five months into office, I pushed for livestreaming every session. We already had the budget and equipment, and the staff wanted it too. The only resistance came from my colleagues. It took four months to convince them, mostly out of fear of getting bashed online.

But no matter how good an initiative is, someone will complain. The sentiment of the few isn’t the sentiment of the many. And there’s an easy fix if the comments get out of hand: turn them off, and let people share the post instead. That still creates engagement without the noise.

A youth parliament, still a dream in progress

Tanya: Tell us about your initiative, the Romblon Municipal Youth Parliament. What do you hope it can change about how young people participate in politics?

Miguel: To be transparent, the Youth Parliament hasn’t been instituted yet—it’s still a plan. Last year, I passed a resolution, unanimously approved, urging the finance committee and the executive branch to increase the Local Youth Development Council’s budget from 100,000 to 2 million pesos. I expected resistance, and there was. No increase happened at all. That extra 1.9 million would have gone a long way, especially now, toward what the Youth Parliament is meant to do.

I want to lead by example and show that the youth is ready to take on responsibility. Right now there are very few Gen Z SK officials. You can’t really learn governance through pure theory. I want young people to experience it firsthand. It’s tiring how the youth is always ceremonial—listening to talks, campaigning for candidates—but sidelined when it comes to actual governance. I want to move youth from the sidelines to the center: a youth parliament first, then a junior mayor, junior vice mayor, junior councilors, even junior accountants and treasurers, so they actually experience what running a government involves. I don’t want to do it half-heartedly. It’s a dream we haven’t given up on. This year, it was approved by the council but didn’t move forward with the executive; I’ll try again.

A message to future public servants

Tanya: What would you say to students who want to become public servants or advocates someday?

Miguel: First, congratulations, you’re already on the right path toward social change. Even if you eventually lose, even if there are dreams you can’t pursue, and even if you never become a public servant yourself, you’re still doing society a huge favor by being a good citizen. Good governance is easy to talk about and much harder to practice, and it’s impossible without good citizenship to match it. We’ll never achieve good governance without first building good citizenship.

Please don’t burn out, and please have patience. Change isn’t a new idea; every generation before us wanted good governance too. We haven’t achieved it yet, not because no one aspired to it, but because idealists tend to sizzle out. We wanted change yesterday, but we have so much time. Change doesn’t happen overnight; you don’t build Rome in a day, and we rarely apply that same patience to governance the way we would to something like baking a cake. It’s slow and painful. You’ll get tired, you’ll curse the bobotante, you’ll curse dirty politicians, you’ll lose faith. I hope that losing faith isn’t permanent, that you can sleep it off and wake up with renewed energy to keep trying, and eventually, to succeed.

We should be ready to excel, but we should also be ready to fail. To be let down, to be disappointed, even to be irritated at a world that refuses to change. “You can’t help somebody who doesn’t want to be helped” is one of the biggest reasons people sizzle out. Let’s stop blaming people for staying politically uneducated; there’s always a reason behind it. Otherwise, we risk becoming the very people we’re mad at today, because someday, we will look at the future youth the same way and say, “we tried to change it, pero ganyan talaga ang system.” That’s where political will and time collide. It takes time to nurture political will. It’s a fire that burns brightest at the start and risks dying out the longer it takes.

Keep that fire lit, but in moderation. Overdo it, and you’ll get sick of it and eventually quit. Don’t abandon it, because if you do, you become part of the problem. Let’s be the generation that finally breaks the cycle of wanting change, and wanting it, and wanting it. And this time, actually achieves it. In the end, I just want us to leave the world a little better than we found it.

Deleting Canvas from my phone was the first thing I did as soon as I left my last class for the semester. I was looking forward to spending the first few days of my long-awaited break abroad.

Once finals were over, I was invited by one of my professors to write for Universitas. He said I could write about anything under the sun. As the invitation lingered, I considered what to write. None of the ideas gave me the eureka moment that compelled me to write about a specific topic until I was on an airplane with no Wi-Fi and my brother fast asleep beside me. All of a sudden, an itch arrived, which appeared as the idea for the article.

I wanted to capture it before it disappeared completely. Before I knew it, my hands were typing into my notes app, attempting to scratch the itch, leaving behind fragments of ideas I might return to later.

The itch to create is like a mosquito bite: I only notice it by the mark it leaves behind. The mark does what it does best: bother me. I have to scratch or even slap it, or else it’s bound to disrupt whatever I’m doing.

Most of the time, I don’t scratch it—I distract myself instead. Before boarding the plane, I found myself mindlessly scrolling on TikTok, as my algorithm went from an influencer showing off a massive thrift haul to a post disguising heartbreak as a means to go viral with the caption “if he wanted to, he would,” all within the span of a minute. Maybe that’s why the itch arrived. Without anything to consume, there was room to notice what wanted to be created.

We have grown accustomed to consuming media, so creating feels like a luxury—one that requires intention. As we consume endlessly, when do we actually go out of our way to scratch the itch to create?

How often do we tell ourselves “I’ll do this tomorrow” or maybe even “Someday, I’ll do it” but end up prioritizing everything else? How many times do we procrastinate to the point that the itch to create begins to fade? One of the greatest tragedies of life is not that every itch goes unscratched, but that it disappears before we ever give it a chance to become something more than a figment of our imagination.

I had scratched the itch on the airplane, but only enough to keep it from disappearing. It was only after a week that I opened a brand new Google document and started brain-dumping rhetorical questions, excerpts I had come across both online and offline, and anything I thought could become something more. Since then, I’ve been deleting pretty sentences that don’t serve this essay, jumping between Google Docs and browser tabs.

While other tasks kept demanding my attention, this particular itch kept coming back. I’ve learned that scratching it is an action, not necessarily a conclusion.

Maybe that’s what it means to scratch an itch. It doesn’t always happen in one grand decisive moment. Sometimes you scratch it a little, leave it alone, come back to it, scratch it again, and eventually realize you’ve been answering its call all along.

I have been scratching this itch for months, but scratching hasn’t meant finishing it. It means returning to it. And maybe that’s the entire point: creation doesn’t always arrive as a finished song, novel, painting, or even article. Sometimes it remains unfinished, continuing to evolve in ways the world never witnesses.

The existence of an unfinished work is tangible evidence that I answered the itch. Blaise Pascal’s Pensées,1 for instance, survives not in spite of its incompleteness but partly because of it. The Pensées is the posthumous compilation of a notebook that contained his fragmented ideas and drafts for an unfinished Christian apologetic.2 After his death, his response to that itch produced a work that, up to this day, invites readers into a mind still at work. Though unfinished, his notebook became an outlet through which his ideas endured.

If Pascal’s thoughts found their home in a notebook, then every act of creation eventually seeks an outlet. What, then, becomes an outlet for the itch?

My notes app became the outlet where invisible thoughts became visible through words. This is ultimately where drafts, lingering reflections, and inquiries born of hunger are preserved, often riddled with typographical errors. They emerge between rush-hour commutes, location transfers, minor inconveniences, major milestones, sometimes with nothing more than 2% battery left on my phone. The outlet gave those thoughts a place to exist in their most unfiltered form, one that cannot be perfectly reconstructed later.

Why, then, do I always somehow need an outlet for the itch? The itch itself haunts me everywhere I go and dares to interrupt me as I go about my day. Perhaps this itch is not mine alone to experience, but one that is shared. Why do we have this impulse to make the invisible visible?

One philosophical perspective begins with what is called the inner world. Each of us has a unique world shaped by our experiences, desires, and surroundings.3 Philosopher Antonio Malo describes affectivity through the Latin verb afficior, meaning “I am moved, affected”.4 In this sense, affectivity describes what happens when something outside our inner world encounters us, thereby moving us. The encounter isn’t isolated. We are in a relationship with what affects us.5 The itch is what happens when reality has already affected us. It is the felt impulse that emerges when something has affected us, and we are moved to respond.

At the psychological level, being affected is not simply a matter of feeling; we become conscious of what moved us, interpret it, give it a name, and eventually decide what we want to do with it.6 Affectivity explains why reality can move us while psychology describes what happens as we become conscious of and interpret the movement. But neither, by themselves, answer the question:

Where does the itch even come from?

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.7 He who wove an abstraction of nothing into concrete existence. God created a world worth responding to. Therefore, we create in response to Him. The itch to paint the sunset when it kisses the horizon before it disappears into the night. The itch to photograph a scenic route you always visit at golden hour. The itch to write a letter to express a love that couldn’t be fully captured in language, yet you do it anyway.

Maybe the itch doesn’t just appear for us to say that we made something, but because something within us overflowed into reality—through creation.

As my flight touched down instead of allowing my algorithm to decide what occupies my attention, I reached for my notes app: “resolve the article revisions” beside an unmarked checkbox. What you are reading is the form the itch took when I finally scratched it.

As summer vacation fades into my memory, I’ll have to install Canvas yet again. Some things may remain the same when the school year begins: the crowded hallways between classes, familiar faces across campus, and the ALB pond catching the afternoon sun.

But now I know that the itch isn’t there to distract me; it invites me to respond.

For when it comes, I must scratch it. One itch at a time.

We have heard the phrase so often that it has worn down to a stump. It sits on coffee-mug slogans, motivational posters, and book jackets, reduced to a decorative sentiment, a poetic flourish meant to comfort us when things get heavy. But what if Fyodor Dostoevsky was not offering romantic comfort? What if he was diagnosing a civilization? Perhaps the question is no longer whether beauty can save the world, but whether we still know how to see it.

The slowness of stone

You do not notice the shift immediately. You arrive in a city like Rome expecting history. You expect textbook monuments, crowded piazzas, rich espresso, and grand vistas you have already consumed a thousand times through smartphone screens. What you do not expect is what happens to your mind. It begins to slow down. Not because the city is quiet; it decidedly is not. Scooters buzz through narrow alleys like angry hornets, conversations spill out of crowded trattorias, church bells interrupt the afternoon heat, and tourists crowd every legendary square.

Yet beneath the physical noise lies a different rhythm. Somewhere between stepping across worn basalt cobblestones and sitting beneath the colossal, open-sky oculus of the Pantheon, you find yourself looking upward instead of downward. Your phone remains in your pocket a little longer. You linger over an espresso without feeling the phantom itch of unread notifications. You notice how the late afternoon light transforms ordinary travertine stone into something luminous, almost breathing. For the first time in weeks, perhaps months, you are not calculating what comes next. You are simply there. And in that stillness, a quiet, unsettling question presents itself: What if beauty is doing something to us?

The tyranny of utility

We moderns have neatly quarantined beauty, reducing it to mere preference. We speak of it as something pleasant, subjective, and ultimately optional: a weekend luxury meant for museums, vacations, or the decorative margins of life once the real work is finished. Everything else belongs to efficiency. Our cities are engineered to move us faster, our pocket devices are designed to hold our attention longer, and our digital calendars are meticulously color-coded to leave no empty spaces. Even our leisure has been colonized by productivity. Wow. We optimize our sleep cycles, quantify our physical exertion, listen to audiobooks at double speed, and congratulate ourselves on the dark art of multitasking. We have become astonishingly proficient at moving through the world, but are we still capable of beholding it?

Even before neuroscience began mapping the neural correlates of attention, Plato suggested through the voice of Diotima in the Symposium that the true lover of beauty is led upward from individual beautiful forms to universal concepts, eventually catching sight of “a beauty whose wondrous nature is finally revealed”1 , an awakening that pulls the soul away from immediate, frantic pleasures toward what is ultimately true and good. Beauty was never just about a pleasing arrangement of shapes; it was an invitation to transcend ourselves. Generations of builders understood this instinctively. Why else would humans spend centuries constructing Gothic cathedrals that no spreadsheet could ever justify? Why pour immense wealth, blood, and labor into soaring vaulted ceilings, intricate stained glass, and sacred music that echoes for miles? Because beauty teaches before words ever can. A cathedral is not merely an architectural achievement; it is theology made physical. Standing beneath the dome of St. Peter’s Basilica, one senses that the stone itself is making an argument: human beings are made for more than consumption, production, and survival. They are made for wonder and awe.

The geography of insight

Have you ever noticed that your best, most clarifying thoughts rarely arrive while you are furiously clearing your inbox? They arrive elsewhere: while walking beside an endless sea, while listening to the unhurried mathematics of a Bach suite, while looking up at mountain ridges catching the morning sun, or while wandering down ancient streets that witnessed centuries rise and fall before your ancestors were born. This is no coincidence. Beauty interrupts us. Yes, it rescues us from the relentless tyranny of utility.

As the philosopher Josef Pieper observed, “Leisure is the basis of culture,” understood not as passive entertainment or idleness, but as “a celebratory, approving, lingering gaze of the inner eye on the reality of creation.”2 Leisure, properly understood, is the vital condition that makes wisdom possible. Without contemplation, a civilization slowly starves of its soul. Perhaps this explains our peculiar, modern exhaustion. We possess more accumulated information than any generation in human history, yet many of us have forgotten how to truly pay attention. We scroll through thousands of pixelated images every week while truly seeing almost nothing. We communicate constantly across global networks while seldom listening to the person sitting across the room. We accelerate our lives every year, wondering why everything feels increasingly shallow. Beauty quietly rebels against all of this, because a sunset cannot be rushed, a symphony cannot be skimmed, and Michelangelo’s Pietà does not yield its emotional weight in a fleeting thirty-second scroll. Some things disclose their depth only to those who are willing to remain still.

The architecture of the soul

This may be the greatest lesson left by ancient cities: not just their history or their architecture, but their pace. Rome has outlived emperors, barbarian invasions, plagues, political revolutions, and shifting ideologies. It understands a truth our age has forgotten: what truly endures is rarely what is produced the fastest. It forces us to ask a deeper question: do our cities educate us, or do they merely manage us? A city built solely for efficiency produces efficient, anxious people, whereas a city built with beauty and proportion produces contemplative people. Architecture is never neutral, and public spaces are never merely functional. Every street quietly answers a fundamental question about what kind of human being should live here.

The Swiss theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar warned of the grave cost of banishing aesthetics from public life, writing that “We no longer dare to believe in beauty and we make of it a mere appearance in order the more easily to dispose of it,” adding that whoever dismisses her will soon find that “she will not allow herself to be separated and banned from her two sisters [truth and goodness] without taking them along with herself in an act of mysterious vengeance.”3 Beauty is not a decorative bow tied around a completed civilization; it is one of the foundational conditions that keeps a civilization humane. Even contemporary psychology backs this up, as psychologist Dacher Keltner notes in his research on everyday wonder that “awe defines a distinct state of consciousness that changes how we process information, altering our sense of time and our very self-concept,”4 expanding our perspective and increasing pro-social generosity. Beauty literally changes how we inhabit our own skin.

An act of affirmation

Perhaps this is why we leave places like Rome feeling a quiet, heavy reluctance to return home. It is not simply because we enjoyed the food or the weather, but because beauty has quietly retrained our attention, reminding us of what it feels like to be fully awake. When Dostoevsky wrote through his characters that “Beauty will save the world,”5 he did not mean that a well-crafted oil painting can stop a war or that a stained-glass window can wipe out poverty. He meant something far more radical.

Beauty saves because it teaches us to love what is actually worthy of love. It reminds us that another human being is not an obstacle to navigate, but a mystery to encounter; that a city is more than a logistical grid of infrastructure; and that life itself is more than a checklist of tasks to complete before time runs out. In an age obsessed with speed, output, and algorithmic optimization, beauty performs a profound act of affirmation. It is an active choosing of depth over superficiality, a standing invitation to stop, to look, to listen, and to wonder. And perhaps contemplation is not an escape from reality after all. It is the only way we ever truly enter it.

“Thank heaven for a man who makes up his mind,” M tells James Bond in Moonraker. But clearly nations, no less than individuals, must utterly know what they are trying to achieve. The Philippines — well, at least hopefully — is doing finally that.

Mere consideration of the US-led technological initiative known as Pax Silica is an appropriate response to China’s repeated weaponization of trade, investment, tourism, and supply chains against States resisting its geopolitical ambitions. The Philippines, along with Australia, Japan, South Korea, and — of course Taiwan — have experienced varying forms of economic coercion. Reducing dependence on China is no longer merely an economic policy. It is a national security imperative.

For decades, the Philippines remained trapped in low-value manufacturing while our neighbors advanced into semiconductors, artificial intelligence, advanced electronics, and other high-value industries. Pax Silica offers perhaps the country’s best opportunity in a generation to reverse that pattern.

Government projections estimate that the initiative could attract US$40 billion to US$70 billion in investments into semiconductor manufacturing, artificial intelligence, cloud infrastructure, critical minerals processing, and advanced logistics. The New Clark City component alone is projected to generate more than 130,000 high-quality jobs, while the broader Luzon Economic Corridor could eventually support as many as one million jobs across manufacturing, logistics, research, construction, and supporting industries. More than 50 multinational companies reportedly expressed interest in participating. There are suggestions that successful implementation could propel the Philippines toward double-digit economic growth.

More importantly, economic modernization and national security, for once, point in the same direction.

Yet strategic necessity does not justify constitutional shortcuts. Reports that early negotiations contemplated Economic Security Zones with diplomatic-style immunities or the application of foreign legal standards deserve scrutiny. Whether floated rumor or merely proposed is almost beside the point. The issue is constitutional principle.

Article I declares Philippine territory and with it, Philippine sovereignty. Article II.7 commits the State to an independent foreign policy in which the paramount consideration is national sovereignty, territorial integrity, national interest, and the right to self-determination. Article II.19 directs the State to develop a self-reliant and independent national economy effectively controlled by Filipinos. None of these provisions prohibits strategic alliances but all of them prohibit surrendering sovereign authority.

The Supreme Court in Nicolas v. Romulo recognized the Executive’s authority to conclude international agreements while emphasizing that constitutional limits remain controlling. Foreign corporations, technical advisers, and strategic partners operating within Philippine territory remain must subject to Philippine jurisdiction. No Economic Security Zone should become a legal enclave where Philippine labor laws, environmental regulations, tax rules, or criminal statutes cease to apply.

The same constitutional discipline governs strategic natural resources. Article XII.2 embodies the Regalian Doctrine, reserving ownership and ultimate control of natural resources to the State. Section 10 likewise authorizes Congress, when the national interest so requires, to reserve certain areas of investment to Filipino citizens or corporations predominantly owned by them. In La Bugal-B’laan Tribal Association v. Ramos, the Supreme Court sustained foreign participation in mining only because the Philippine government retained ultimate control, supervision, and management. Foreign corporations cannot determine Philippine resource policy or direct extraction solely to satisfy foreign strategic priorities.

Pax Silica should also be seen within the greater framework of Philippine international trade commitments. The Philippines is a founding member of the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership (RCEP), the world’s largest free trade agreement, as well as participant in ASEAN economic integration. And yes, international economic law has long recognized that States may adopt measures necessary to protect essential security interests.

But while sensitive technologies, semiconductor supply chains, cyber infrastructure, and critical minerals occupy fundamentally different legal and strategic categories, requiring resilience, diversification, and cooperation with trusted allies, traditional commerce in agriculture, consumer goods, tourism, and conventional manufacturing should continue to benefit from RCEP’s liberalizing framework. The challenge for policymakers is to balance the aims of trade with economic and military security.

Indeed, there are “mutual benefits of international trade and investment, enhanced and enabled by bold public investment in key sectors; bounded in rare but essential cases by principled controls on key national security technologies; protected against harmful non-market practices, labor and environment abuses, and economic coercion; and critically coordinated with a broad range of partners.” So says then US National Security Advisor Jake Sullivan (remarks at the Brookings Institution in 2024).

Hence while it is obvious that the Philippines should enthusiastically embrace Pax Silica, it should do so as a sovereign constitutional republic.

Philippine courts must retain jurisdiction. The State must preserve genuine control over strategic natural resources. Because clearly the West Philippine Sea cannot be defended by military strength alone. A comprehensive archipelagic security has to include industrial strength, economic independence, and national self-respect.

Pax Silica offers the Philippines that opportunity, but it should never just be an American project in the Philippines but rather a respectful partnership by the US and other allied countries with the Philippines. In that crucial distinction lies the key.

This piece was originally published in Atty. Gatdula’s column, “Being Right,” in BusinessWorld on 14 August 2026. The views expressed here are the author’s and do not necessarily reflect those of the Publication and the University.

A scholar and childhood cancer survivor, Sianghio entered UA&P with a strong sense of resilience and responsibility. Years after graduation, however, life led her through unexpected challenges that transformed how she understood success, leadership, and purpose. Looking back on her journey—from student leader to alumna navigating a very different season of life—she reflects on the lessons that have remained constant and the truths she continues to seek.

Learning to lead beyond titles

Tanya Rafanan: During your time at UA&P, how did your experiences as a cancer survivor and a scholar influence the kind of student and leader you became?

Michelle Sianghio: Growing up as a cancer survivor taught me resilience very early in life. By the time I entered UA&P, I had already learned what it meant to face difficulties and keep moving forward. Because of that, I never wanted people to see me as someone who needed special treatment. If anything, I wanted to contribute more than what was expected of me.

Being a scholar also gave me a strong sense of responsibility. I felt grateful to my family and to the university for giving me the opportunity to study there, so I always wanted to make the most of it.

When I became USG President, I initially thought leadership meant making things happen, solving problems, and having all the answers. But as I worked with students and the administration, I realized leadership is really about helping other people grow and succeed in their own way. That changed the way I understood what it means to serve.

The lasting influence of liberal education

Tanya: How did UA&P shape who you are today?

Michelle: One of the things that made me proud to be a Dragon was UA&P’s liberal education. At the time, I didn’t fully realize how important it would become. It wasn’t simply about preparing us for a profession. It challenged us to search for truth, to think deeply, and to ask what makes a life meaningful.

After graduation, I naturally focused on achievements, career goals, and building the future I wanted. But when life became difficult, I realized those foundations had stayed with me. The lessons I learned in UA&P reminded me that life is about something much bigger than personal success. They continue to guide me even today.

A lesson that never leaves

Tanya: What is one lesson from UA&P that has stayed with you?

Michelle: Seeking truth.

As a student, seeking truth often means being intellectually curious—learning new things, exploring ideas, and preparing for your future. But later in life, it becomes much more personal.

For me, it now means constantly asking: Is this really good? Is this meaningful? Am I still living intentionally? Is this still worth pursuing?

Those questions never really leave you. Once you’ve learned to seek truth, you begin to look at every stage of your life through that lens.

Tanya: After everything you’ve experienced, do you think the truth you’re searching for has changed?

Michelle: I think it’s still the same truth, but it appears differently now.

When I graduated, I thought I had everything I wanted. I was building my career, accomplishing my goals, and I believed that was what contentment looked like. I was searching for fulfillment through the things I was achieving.

Then, life changed.

When everything I had built was suddenly stripped away, I realized that contentment wasn’t what I thought it was. It wasn’t found in achievements or titles anymore. Instead, it became much simpler. It became the people who stayed beside me, the relationships I could depend on, and knowing that even in my current situation, there were still things worth waking up for and people worth loving.

Looking back, I realize that money, medals, promotions, and achievements can sometimes become distractions. Before, I thought they were the destination. Now, I see them as only part of the journey.

What remains are the people you’ve loved, the relationships you’ve built, the stories you’ve shared, and the lives you’ve touched.

So I don’t think the truth itself has changed. I think my understanding of it has deepened. The truth I’m seeking today is still about living a meaningful life—but now I understand that meaning looks very different depending on the season you’re in.

Redefining success

Tanya: Looking back on your years after graduation, what has been the greatest challenge you’ve encountered?

Michelle: Ironically, it wasn’t surviving cancer.

As a child, I always had my family beside me. My mom and the people around me carried me through those difficult years. But adulthood is different. You’re expected to build your own life. You’re establishing your career, becoming independent, making plans, and dreaming about the future.

Then suddenly, everything stopped.

When my prosthetic leg developed complications, I became bedridden. Many of the things I had taken for granted—working, going out, living independently—became difficult or even impossible. That was the greatest challenge I’ve faced. More than the physical limitations, it forced me to question the way I had been measuring my own worth.

Before, success meant achievements. It meant reaching goals, earning promotions, accomplishing everything I had planned for myself. There’s nothing inherently wrong with those things, but without realizing it, they became the standard by which I judged whether I was valuable. When I could no longer pursue them, there were moments when I genuinely believed I had failed. But slowly, I realized success isn’t something that disappears just because your circumstances change.

Today, I believe success means remaining faithful to your purpose even when life no longer looks the way you expected. It means continuing to grow despite your limitations, and finding ways to love and serve even if you can no longer do the things you once could.

One of the greatest surprises during this season was discovering how many people continued to show up for me. Friends reached out. People helped without being asked. They reminded me that relationships built through genuine care endure even when you have nothing tangible left to offer. That changed the way I understood success.

Tanya: How did being bedridden change your understanding of productivity?

Michelle: For most of my life, productivity meant accomplishing something. As long as I was working, achieving, or moving toward another goal, I felt valuable.

But when you’re bedridden, those external measures disappear. You can’t produce in the same way anymore. At first, that’s frightening because you begin asking yourself, If I can’t do anything, what am I worth?

It took a long time for me to realize that productivity and value are not the same thing.

Even in this season, I can still encourage people. I can still strengthen relationships. I can still share my story in ways that give others hope. Those things may never appear on a résumé, but they matter just as much.

Now I believe success isn’t measured by how much you accomplish. It’s measured by whether you continue living your purpose despite whatever circumstances life gives you.

Leadership, reimagined

Tanya: Earlier, you mentioned that leadership eventually became about helping others grow. Looking back now, years after serving as USG President, do you think your understanding of leadership has changed?

Michelle: Definitely.

When I was a student leader, I thought leadership was about making decisions, solving problems, and representing the student body well. I worked on receiving information, processing it, and communicating it to students. At the time, I thought that was what good leadership looked like.

Looking back, I think there were things I could have done differently.

Experience has taught me that leadership isn’t primarily about managing situations. It’s about influencing people in a way that genuinely helps them grow.

Now, whenever I talk to someone—whether it’s a colleague, a friend, or even someone I’ve just met—I always ask myself one question: Did I add value to that person’s life today?

That has become my measure of leadership.

People don’t all need the same thing. Some need encouragement. Others need someone to challenge them. Others simply need someone willing to listen. Leadership requires the humility to recognize that serving people means adjusting yourself to what they need rather than expecting everyone else to adjust to you.

That’s why I often describe leadership as creating ripples. A single drop of water seems insignificant, but once it falls, the ripples continue moving outward long after the moment itself has passed.

I think leadership works the same way. One conversation, one act of kindness, one word of encouragement—those small moments may end up affecting far more people than we’ll ever know.

That’s the kind of leader I hope to become now. Not someone remembered for a title, but someone who quietly left people better than she found them.

What she is most proud of

Tanya: Looking back on your journey from college until now, what are you most proud of?

Michelle: I’m proud that I still find ways to keep going.

Awards, titles, and achievements can all disappear, but resilience stays with you.

I’m grateful that I’ve been able to encourage other cancer survivors, persons with disabilities, and people who feel stuck in their own struggles. If my experiences can remind someone that they are not alone, then I’m proud of that.

More than anything else, I’m proud that I’ve learned to smile even through difficult seasons.

What inspires her now

Tanya: What inspires you today?

Michelle: I’m inspired by growth.

Even in difficult seasons, I believe there is still something more that I can do and someone more that I can serve. Challenges are not the final chapter of our lives.

If sharing my experiences helps another person realize that life can still be meaningful despite hardship, then those experiences become worthwhile. I think our struggles can become a source of hope for other people, and that’s what inspires me every day.

A message to students

Tanya: Finally, what message would you like to share with UA&P students who may be facing challenges of their own?

Michelle: There are three things I always remind myself of.

First, the most meaningful chapters of our lives are often the ones we never would have chosen for ourselves. The unexpected seasons are the ones that teach us the deepest lessons.

Second, never stop seeking truth. Whether you’re pursuing a career, building a family, or discovering your purpose, keep asking yourself whether the life you’re building is truly meaningful and worth living.

Finally, remember that your purpose can survive any detour. Circumstances may change. Plans may change. Even your abilities may change. But your capacity to serve, to grow, and to make a difference remains.

Purpose is always greater than the path we originally imagined for ourselves.

Good morning, esteemed colleagues.

It is a privilege to reflect with you today on a question as old as the institution of university itself, yet perhaps more urgent now more than ever before: What is the purpose of higher education?

We gather today as specialists in our respective disciplines, and most importantly as teachers entrusted with one of the most vital ministries there is – the formation of human persons. In every semester, we prepare syllabuses, design assessments, and evaluate student learning. We ask whether our students have mastered concepts, acquired competencies, or demonstrated learning outcomes. These are important questions, but they are not the deepest ones.

The deeper question is: What kind of human beings do our students become because they have attended our classes?

That question lies at the very heart of liberal education.

The world in which our students are growing up is massively different from the one many of us experienced as college freshmen. Now there is much:

• Technological Disruption - artificial intelligence now generates essays, images, and scientific analyses in seconds. Information is superabundant, yet wisdom often appears scarce.

• Social Disconnection - our students are more connected digitally than any previous generation, yet many experience deep loneliness, anxiety, and uncertainty regarding meaning and purpose.

• Cultural Polarization - public discourse has become increasingly fragmented. The ability to disagree respectfully, evaluate evidence critically, and pursue truth together is growing more fragile.

• Complex global challenges - climate change, migration, widening social inequality, and rapid cultural shifts present multi-layered questions that no single discipline can resolve in isolation.

These realities compel us to ask: should higher education merely prepare graduates for employment, or should it prepare them to live as human persons?

Making that decision is precisely where liberal education begins.

The university as more than professional training

It is common knowledge that universities have always contributed to economic development and professional competence. Society rightly expects our graduates to become business leaders, capable engineers, scientists, accountants, teachers, lawyers, and public servants.

However, if universities produce technically competent graduates who cannot distinguish truth from falsehood, who possess knowledge without wisdom, or who wield power without conscience, then higher education has fulfilled only a fraction of its mission.

This concern is not new. Nearly two centuries ago, St. John Henry Newman reflected on the purpose of the university:

“…university training is the great ordinary means to a great but ordinary end; it aims at raising the intellectual tone of society, at cultivating the public mind, at purifying the national taste, at supplying true principles to popular enthusiasm and fixed aim aims to popular aspiration, at giving enlargement and sobriety to the ideas of the age, at facilitating the exercise of political power, and refining the intercourse of private life.”

- St. John Henry Newman, The Idea of a University, Discourse X, “Knowledge Viewed in Relation to Professional Skill” (1852), 10.

Newman was not dismissing professional training. He was rather arguing that education possesses an intrinsic value because it enlarges the human intellect – enabling us to perceive reality more comprehensively and to exercise sound judgement.

For Newman, the educated person is more than someone who remembers a great amount of facts. Someone who has developed a “philosophical habit of mind” – the capacity to connect ideas, recognize and simplify complexity, and seek truth wherever it may be found. That insight remains remarkably vital today.

The Catholic university and the search for truth

As faculty members of UA&P, a Catholic university, our understanding of education is grounded in a transcendent vision of the human person. We believe that every student is created in the image and likeness of God. Education, therefore, is not a mere Page 3 of 30 rationing of information; it is a participation in the formation of persons capable of truth, goodness, beauty, freedom, love, and service.

This vision was articulated by Pope St. John Paul II in Ex Corde Ecclesiae, the Apostolic Constitution on Catholic Universities:

“… a Catholic University is distinguished by its free search for the whole truth about nature, man, and God.”

- Pope St. John Paul II, Ex Corde Ecclesiae (1990), no. 4

Notice the breadth of that statement. The university searches not only for truth about nature (the domain of the physical sciences), nor only about human society (the domain of the social sciences), nor only about culture (the domain of the humanities). Its search encompasses nature, the human person, and God together.

Truth is one.

Our disciplines are many.

And the university exists precisely because reality is far larger than any single discipline can fully explain.

Why this conversation matters today

Around the world, and explicitly here in the Philippines, higher education is increasingly evaluated through quantitative and outcomes-based metrics:

• Graduate employability rates

• Professional licensure performance

• Research productivity and citations (publish or perish)

• International rankings

• Industry partnerships

These are legitimate indicators, and we should strive for excellence in all of them. Yet the Catholic intellectual tradition reminds us that not everything that counts can actually be counted.

If graduates attain successful careers but lack moral integrity, compassion, civic responsibility, or a sense of personal vocation, something essential has been lost. As Pope Francis reminds us:

“True wisdom, as the fruit of self-examination, dialogue and generous encounter between persons, is not acquired by mere accumulation of data…”

- Pope Francis, Laudato Si (2015), no. 47

Liberal education as formation

The ancient Greeks envisioned a holistic kind of formation of the human person. Centuries later, Christianity deepened that vision by recognizing that true human flourishing includes intellectual, moral, spiritual, and communal dimensions. Catholic universities inherited and elevated this tradition. Its primary task has never been simply to produce workers. Its task has always been to educate persons to be free.

The German philosopher Josef Pieper echoes this:

“Education concerns the whole man; an educated man is a man with a point of view from which he takes in the whole world. Education concerns the whole man, man capax universi, capable of grasping the totality of existing things.”

- Josef Pieper, Leisure: The Basis of Culture (1948), 39

Grasping the totality in Pieper’s sense is more than observing facts. It is learning to perceive reality truthfully, to recognize goodness, to appreciate beauty, and to discern what truly merits our ultimate commitment. Surely that is the deepest hope we hold for every student who sits in our classrooms.

Throughout the rest of this lecture, let us think, not primarily in our respective fields in CAS – Arts, Asia Pacific Studies, English, Filipino, History, Literature, Philosophy, or Theology – but together as educators entrusted with the formation of human persons.

• Before our students become professionals, they are human beings

• Before they become successful, they must learn to become wise

• And before they can transform society, they themselves must be transformed through education

Let us now address a deceptively simple question: What exactly do we mean when we speak of “liberal education”?

What is liberal education?

The question of liberal education has become urgent today. But before we can defend it, or renew it, we must first understand what it actually means. More frequently than not, liberal education is misunderstood:

• For some, “liberal education” is reducible to formation of stance in politics.

• Others assume it simply means studying literature, philosophy, or history.

• Still others equate it with general education courses that students must get out of the way before beginning their majors.

Historically speaking, however, none of these definitions captures its true depth. In understanding liberal education, we must go back, beyond the nineteenth century of John Henry Newman, and even the age of medieval universities, to the classical antiquity itself.

The word liberal comes from the Latin liber, meaning free, while education derives from the Latin educere, which means to draw out. A liberal education therefore, is literally an education that brings out our being free.

But what kind of freedom is this?

Certainly not freedom understood as doing whatever we please. The Catholic intellectual tradition has always distinguished between freedom as license or the absolute liberty to do what we want, and freedom as excellence – the freedom to know the good, choose the good, and become the kind of person we were created to be.

This understanding connects with the words of Jesus found in the Gospel of St. John:

“If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.”

- John 8:31-32

Notice the order. Truth precedes freedom. Freedom is not the rejection of truth; rather, freedom is the fruit of living in truth.

This biblical insight greatly shaped the Christian vision of learning: education exists not merely to increase our choices, but to cultivate the wisdom necessary to choose well.

The classical origins: Paideia

Long before Christianity, the ancient Greeks used the word paideia to describe the holistic formation of the human person.

Paideia is not simply about going through schooling. Essentially, it referred to cultivation of intellectual excellence, moral character, civic responsibility, and an appreciation for beauty. To be educated meant becoming capable of participating wisely in the life of the polis – the community. Knowledge, virtue, and citizenship were inseparable.

When Christianity encountered Greek philosophy, Christianity purified and elevated the Greek ideals rather than reject them. The pursuit of wisdom became inseparable from the pursuit of God, who is Truth personified. Thus emerged the educational vision that eventually gave birth to the medieval university.

The Medieval university: The unity of knowledge

One of the remarkable achievements of the medieval university was its conviction that all genuine knowledge ultimately forms a coherent whole.

Theology, philosophy, medicine, law, astronomy, mathematics, music and the natural sciences were not isolated enterprises competing for dominance. They were different windows through which human beings could contemplate the same ultimate reality. This conviction rested upon a theological principle articulated by St. Thomas Aquinas (borrowed from St. Ambrose of Milan):

“All truth, by whomsoever it has been spoken, has its origin in the Holy Spirit.”

- St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, I-II, q. 109, a. 1, ad. 1

Knowledge as an integrated whole

No modern thinker has shaped the philosophy of liberal education more strongly than St. John Henry Newman. In The Idea of a University, Newman argued that university exists not simply to produce narrow specialists, but to cultivate an “enlargement of mind.”

He writes:

“The enlargement of mind consists, not merely in the passive reception into the mind of a number of ideas hitherto unknown to it, but in the mind’s energetic and simultaneous action upon and towards and among those new ideas.”

- St. John Henry Newman, The Idea of a University, Discourse VI, “Knowledge in Relation to Learning”

Notice Newman’s emphasis:

• Education is not accumulation, education is integration.

• The educated mind does not merely possess facts, it understands relationships.

• It sees connections, recognizes proportion, and exercises sound judgement.

This is especially relevant today when our classrooms are starting to be dominated by artificial intelligence. Obviously, the educational challenge is no longer access to data. Our students can now retrieve vast amounts information in seconds. The real challenge is learning how to interpret, evaluate, integrate, and wisely apply knowledge. That is something no search engine or algorithm can accomplish for a student. It requires personal formation.

Beyond specialization

One of the paradoxes of the modern university is that as knowledge expands, our disciplines become increasingly specialized.

Surely, specialization has yielded extraordinary progress. Modern medicine, structural engineering, clinical psychology, data science, etc., could not exist without it. Yet specialization also carries inherent risks.

A scholar may come to know increasingly more about increasingly less. We, faculty members, can become fluent within our own sub-fields while losing the ability to converse meaningfully with colleagues across the other building, or wing of ACB. Students, likewise, may become highly competent technical experts without ever grappling with the larger questions:

• What is justice?

• What is beauty?

• What makes a human life truly meaningful?

• What moral responsibilities accompany knowledge?

• What does it mean to be a human person?

Liberal education insists that these are not optional or decorative questions. They are essential questions that should not be ignored. Lest we fall into what Maritain describes as mere cleverness:

“There are people who think that it is wonderful to have a mind that is quick, clever, ready to see pros and cons, eager to discuss anything, and who believe that such a mind is that to which university education must give scope -regardless of what is thought about, what is discussed, and how important matter is. These people are unaware that if they succeed in making such conception prevail, they would at best transform universities into schools of sophistry. In fact, they would not even produce sophists, who have some force, but rather disarmed and talkative minds, that believe they are well informed but live by words and opinions.”

- Jacques Maritain, Education at the Crossroads (1969), 61

Educating for civic responsibility

The contemporary philosopher Martha C. Nussbaum offers a compelling defense of liberal education from a civic perspective. She argues that free and democratic societies require citizens who are capable of critical reflection, empathy, and global responsibility. In Not for Profit: Why Democracy Needs the Humanities, she warns:

“Thirsty for national profit, nations and their systems of education are heedlessly discarding skills that are needed to keep democracies alive. If this trend continues, nations all over the world will soon be producing generations of useful machines, rather than whole citizens who can think for themselves, criticize tradition, understand the significance of another person’s sufferings and achievements…”

- Martha C. Nussbaum, Not for Profit: Why Democracy Needs the Humanities (2010), Chapter 1

Whether approached philosophically, politically, or theologically the core concern remains the same. If education becomes exclusively technical-vocational, society will produce efficient workers without cultivating wise citizens.

Catholic universities add an even higher dimension to this concern. We seek to form not only wise citizens, but persons capable of holiness, integrity, and self-giving service.

Professional and liberal education: A false dichotomy

At this point, I think an important clarification is necessary to be made. Liberal education is sometimes mistakenly presented as though it were opposed to professional or technical training. This is a false dichotomy.

A bona fide university education should enthusiastically prepare students for successful, productive careers. Indeed, professional excellence is itself a valuable form of service to the common good.

• The physician must be clinically skilled.

• The engineer must be able to design safe structures.

• The accountant must be technically meticulous.

• The business executive must keep enterprise profitable.

• The teacher must master pedagogy.

However, professional competence alone cannot answer the ethical and human questions that inevitably arise within every profession:

• Should a physician pursue every procedure that modern tools permit?

• Should an engineer build a system simply because technology makes it possible?

• How should a journalist balance speed with truth?

• How should business leaders weigh profit margins against dignity of labor (human dignity)?

• How should artificial intelligence be ethically governed and employed?

These questions cannot be answered by technical formulas alone. They require moral discernment and wise judgment. Liberal education equips students to ask and answer precisely these questions.

Education as the formation of judgement and character

Perhaps the greatest gift of liberal education is not information, but moral judgment. C.S Lewis warned that intellectual development without moral formation can become dangerous.

In The Abolition of Man, Lewis wrote:

“We make men without chest and expect of them virtue and enterprise. We laugh at honor and are shocked to find traitors in our midst.”

- C.S Lewis, The Abolition of Man (1943), Chapter 1

Lewis’s metaphor of the “chest” represents the rightly formed moral and emotional life— the essential bridge between abstract reason and physical appetite. Knowledge alone is insufficient. Character matters. Wisdom matters. Conscience matters. This insight lies at the heart of the Catholic educational tradition which seeks to inform minds and rightly order hearts.

If liberal education is an education for true freedom, if it seeks the integration of knowledge, if it forms moral judgment rather than merely transmitting information, then these fundamental questions need to be asked:

• Freedom for what?

• Knowledge ordered toward what ultimate end?

• Formation according to what vision of the human person?

These questions bring us directly to what distinguishes a Catholic University from every other institution of higher learning. The Catholic intellectual tradition does not merely defend liberal education, it offers one of history’s richest explanations for why liberal education matters in the first place

Before we turn to that vision, I would like you to answer the following questions: What does it mean to educate not merely competent professionals, but whole human persons? Think of one graduate whom you consider truly successful not simply because of their career titles or financial achievement, but because of the kind of human being they have become. When you picture that person, what qualities come to your mind first?

The Catholic vision of liberal education

Every educational philosophy, whether it explicitly admits it or not, rests upon an underlying anthropology, an understanding of what it means to be human:

• If we believe human beings are primarily economic agents, education will focus strictly on productivity and profit.

• If we believe they are merely consumers, education will cultivate preferences.

• If we believe they are only biological organisms, education will concentrate on adaptation and survival.

The Catholic tradition traces from a radically different conviction. It begins with the opening chapter of Genesis:

“So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.”

- Genesis 1:27

Everything else flows from this foundational truth.

The student who enters our classroom is not merely a future employee, a collection of measurable competencies, or a consumer of educational services. Each student is a person of inherent dignity, created in the image and likeness of God, endowed with reason, freedom, and an orientation towards truth, goodness, and beauty. That single conviction changes everything about how we understand education.

Education as the formation of the whole person

The Catholic tradition has never reduced education to mere intellectual training. It has always sought the formation of the whole person: an integral human formation.

These includes intellectual rigor, certainly, but also moral character, spiritual depth, emotional maturity, civic responsibility, aesthetic appreciation, and a commitment to the common good.

The Second Vatican Council expressed this horizon clearly in Gravissimum Educationis. Its Declaration on Christian Education reads:

“A true education aims at the formation of the human person in the pursuit of his [or her] ultimate goal and at the same time for the good of those societies of which he [or she] is a member.”

- Vatican Council II, Gravissimum Educationis (1965), no. 1

Notice the twofold horizon. Education is ordered simultaneously toward personal flourishing and the flourishing of society.

The Catholic University, therefore, rejects two reductive traps:

1. Education is not merely individual self-actualization.

2. Education is not merely workforce preparation.

It is the formation of persons capable of living responsibly with others and, ultimately, entering into communion with God.

St. Josemaria Escriva puts it succinctly:

“There is no university properly speaking if the transmission of knowledge is not joined to the complete formation of the personalities of young people. … when, in the plenitude of time, Christ revealed for all times the hidden mysteries of eternal destiny, an order was established that was both human and divine, in the service of which the university attains its highest role.”

- Josemaría Escrivá de Balaguer y la Universidad (1993), 77

Faith and Reason: Two ways of knowing

One of the defining contributions of the Catholic intellectual tradition is its absolute confidence that faith and reason are not rivals, but partners. Saint Augustine famously expressed this dynamic relationship:

“Believe that you may understand; understand that you may believe.”

- St. Augustine, Sermon 43, 7, 9

Augustine was not asking us to abandon reason for blind belief. Rather, he recognized that faith expands the horizon of reason, while reason purifies and deepens faith. Centuries later, Thomas Aquinas articulated this with so much clarity. For Aquinas, human reason is a divine gift. Because God is the author of both creation and revelation, genuine truths discovered through reason can never ultimately contradict revealed truth.

This confidence reached its iconic modern expression in Pope St. John Paul II’s encyclical Fides et Ratio:

“Faith and reason are like two wings on which the human spirit rises to the contemplation of truth.”

- Pope St. John Paul II, Fides et Ratio (1998), Introduction

A university that abandons reason descends into intellectual sentimentality, while one that excludes the horizon of faith risks reducing reality solely to what can be measured, quantified, or experimentally controlled.

A university that is Catholic invites a perpetual dialogue between theology, philosophy, the natural sciences, the social sciences, the arts, and the professions. Not because their methods are identical, but because reality itself is one.

The unity of truth in an age of fragmentation

This conviction leads directly to another hallmark of Catholic higher education: the unity of truth.

In the contemporary university, academic disciplines are necessarily specialized. We rightly value domain expertise. Yet without an overarching framework, specialization can easily devolve into intellectual fragmentation:

• A biologist may know little philosophy.

• A philosopher may know little economics.

• An economist may know little theology.

• A literary scholar may rarely converse with a physicist.

The Catholic intellectual tradition does not oppose specialization. Instead, it insists that specialization must not become isolation. As Pope St. John Paul II wrote in Ex Corde Ecclesiae:

“It is the honour and responsibility of a Catholic University to consecrate itself without reserve to the cause of truth.”

- Pope St. John Paul II, Ex Corde Ecclesiae (1990), no 4.

Notice how he speaks of the cause of truth, and not merely the accumulation of isolated facts. Truth is not fragmented simply because our disciplines are.

The university becomes a genuine universitas, a true community of scholars, when it fosters authentic conversation across disciplinary boundaries. As faculty members of the College of Arts and Sciences, we are uniquely called to model that integration which our students deserve to see.

Education as the search for wisdom

Where the modern world prizes information, the Catholic university must cultivate wisdom.

“The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom.”

- Proverbs 9:10

Biblically, wisdom is not just high intelligence or a technical cleverness. It is the capacity to see reality as it truly is and to order one’s life accordingly.

Aristotle observed that philosophy, the love of wisdom, begins in wonder. Wonder enables us to receive reality as a gift to be contemplated, rather than merely manipulated or exploited.

It is worth asking now:

• How often do our students experience genuine wonder in our classrooms?

• Do our courses leave room for questions that cannot be answered in a multiple choice exam?

• Do we cultivate contemplation alongside analysis?

• Do we invite students not only to solve technical problems, but also to ask whether what they are pursuing is good, true, and beautiful?

Education for service and the common good

Furthermore, a Catholic University does not educate merely for personal prestige or career advancement. It educates for service.

Pope Francis has reminded educators that knowledge detached from human solidarity becomes cold and sterile. In Evangelii Gaudium, he sets forth a guiding principle:

“Realities are more important than ideas.”

- Pope Francis, Evangelii Gaudium (2013), no. 231

For academics, ideas matter. Theories matter. Published research matters. But education reaches its true fulfillment only when knowledge becomes embodied in loving, responsible action.

Here in the Philippines, this carries urgent, concrete implications. Our graduates enter a society facing complex challenges: persistent poverty, environmental vulnerability, ethical dilemmas in technology, massive corruption, political polarization, and widening societal inequalities.

A Catholic liberal education must ask our students:

• Not just, “What career will you pursue?”

• But, “Whom will your knowledge serve?”

The answer to that question marks the difference between treating education as nothing but credential, or embracing it as a vocation.

The teacher’s vocation

This brings us to our own role as educators. Whether we realize it or not, we model what a human scholar looks like. Students learn from our intellectual honesty, our humility, our fairness, our respect for evidence, our openness to dialogue, and our charity toward those with whom we disagree.

Pope Paul VI famously declared in Evangelii Nuntiandi:

“Modern man listens more willingly to witnesses then to teachers, and if he does listen to teachers, it is because they are witnesses.”

- Pope Paul VI, Evangelii Nuntiandi (1975), no. 41

Our students may eventually forget specific details from our lectures, but they will remember:

• How we exercised authority in the classroom.

• How we addressed their struggles.

• How we responded to the difficult questions.

• Whether we nurtured their intellectual curiosity or dampened it.

• Whether our lives reflected the values we professed.

A university that is Catholic asks beyond what subject matter we teach. It asks who we are becoming as teachers and witnesses to the truth.

The Catholic vision of liberal education is, at its heart, a vision of integral human formation. It proclaims that reason is a divine gift, faith is a guiding light, truth is integrated, wisdom is achievable, and education is ultimately ordered towards human flourishing in service to others and communion with God.

This vision has sustained universities for centuries. Yet today we face unprecedented global shifts: artificial intelligence, digital saturation, ecological stress, and rapid cultural reorientation.

All of this brings us to the crucial question: Can this ancient vision still speak meaningfully to the twenty-first century?

I would suggest that it is more necessary now than ever before.

I invite you to consider your own academic discipline. Beyond technical competence, what human virtues does your field require for true excellence? Now, consider a second question: how does your course cultivate those specific virtues, deliberately, not only in what you teach but in how you teach?

Why liberal education matters in the age of AI

Every week seems to bring another technological leap. It is entirely understandable that educators everywhere are asking aloud:

• What capacities remain uniquely human?

• What is the fundamental role of the university when information has become instantly available?

These are not pure technological questions. These are primarily educational and, ultimately, theological questions. We need only refer to Magnifica Humanitas of Pope Leo XIV

AI clarifies the purpose of human learning

For centuries, formal education placed immense weight on the acquisition and storage of information, precisely because information was scarce. Libraries were limited, books were expensive, and access to specialized knowledge required years of physical proximity to scholars.

Today, information is superabundant. And artificial intelligence drastically accelerates this reality. It can retrieve, summarize, compare, and reframe information at breathtaking speeds.

However, notice what AI cannot do:

• AI can generate plausible answers. It cannot assume moral responsibility.

• AI can recognize complex statistical patterns. It cannot exercise conscience.

• AI can simulate empathy through natural language. It does not experience compassion.

• AI can optimize calculated decisions. It cannot discern the transcendent Good.

The emergence of AI does not render liberal education obsolete. Rather, it clarifies its true purpose. If machines can process data, then universities must become far more deliberate in cultivating those capacities that belong properly to the human person: ethical judgment, prudence, courage, compassion, and the restless search for meaning – the very core values we champion – wisdom, integrity, solidarity, and excellence.

Pope Benedict XVI wisely observed:

“The question of the social use of new technologies is not merely a technical matter, but a human and ethical one.”

- Pope Benedict XVI, Message for the 43rd World Communications Day (2009)

Technology is never neutral. It is never merely about what we can do. It is always shaping who we are becoming. That is a question no algorithm can ever answer.

1. Intelligence is Not Wisdom

One of the most dangerous misconception of our digital age is the assumption that high intelligence and wisdom are identical. They are not.

• A person may possess extraordinary analytic skill while remaining completely devoid of right moral judgment.

• An individual or an AI may process vast amounts of data while remaining incapable of discerning what truly matters.

Today, our primary educational hazard is not ignorance. It is the illusion that because information is instantly accessible, understanding has been achieved. There is an infinite distance between retrieving data and contemplating truth. AI can perform the former. But only human persons can undertake the latter.

2. Technology Must Serve Human Dignity

Pope Francis has repeatedly cautioned against adopting a purely technocratic paradigm – a mindset where technical efficiency becomes the supreme value. In Laudato Si’, he warns:

“Technology tends to absorb everything into its ironclad logic.”

- Pope Francis, Laudato Si’ (2015), no. 108

Pope Francis is not anti-technology. His critique targets something deeper. When efficiency becomes our highest good, other essential human values are quietly sidelined:

• Human dignity and moral conscience

• Authentic solidarity and communal life

• Contemplative appreciation of beauty

• Care for common home and the vulnerable

As Catholic educators, we must ask: Are we training our students merely to operate systems more efficiently, or are we forming them to evaluate whether those systems serve human flourishing?

Liberal education in the Philippine context

Our graduates step into a complex social landscape marked by:

• Persistent economic inequality and poverty

• Vulnerability to climate disaster and environmental degradation

• Labor migration and the fragmentation of family life

Deep political polarization, digital echo chambers, and rampant misinformation These challenges cannot be solved by technical skills alone:

• Economic issues require ethical leadership, not just financial engineering.

• Environmental crises require scientific mastery animated by moral stewardship.

• Political polarization requires citizens trained in civil dialogue, local rigor, and mutual respect.

• Misinformation requires habits of critical inquiry, evidence evaluation, and intellectual integrity.

• Mental health struggles among our youth call for communities that cultivate real hope, belonging, and spiritual grounding.

In short, the defining challenges of the contemporary Philippines are precisely the types of human problems that demand a liberal education.

Education for the common good and vocation

The Catholic intellectual tradition rejects the view that education is a purely private commodity or a tool for personal aggrandizement. Knowledge carries an inherent social mortgage.

In Fratelli Tutti, Pope Francis offers a simple, radical truth:

“No one can face life in isolation.”

- Pope Francis, Fratelli Tutti (2020), no. 8

Education is not merely about upward mobility. It is preparation for participation in the common good.

Our graduates will go on to become engineers, scientists, educators, corporate leaders, public servants, lawyers, artists, and community organizers. The ultimate test of our university is not whether they achieve high incomes or titles, but whether they're professional excellence lifts up their communities.

A Catholic liberal education transforms a career choice into a vocation of service.

Seeking truth in an age of misinformation

The practical question for us today is not whether liberal education belongs in our college or program. The question is how each of our disciplines uniquely contributes to it.

I invite you to think of one signature assignment or project that students complete in your course. If an artificial intelligence tool could complete that assignment flawlessly, what uniquely human capacity, what habit of heart or mind, would you still want your students to develop through that work?

Liberal education across the disciplines

We have argued that liberal education is more necessary than ever—not despite artificial intelligence, but precisely because of it. If higher education is to remain deeply human, it must form students beyond having technical skills. It must form them in wisdom, judgment, character, and social responsibility.

But some might ask: “Isn't it liberal education primarily the task of philosophy, theology, literature, or history?”

The answer is a definitive no.

Liberal education is not a single department. It is not an isolated program. It is not merely a set of general education requirements that students check off before starting their “real” majors.

Liberal education is a vision that animates every discipline within the university.

• Every discipline contributes something indispensable to our understanding of reality.

• Every discipline cultivates a different habit of mind.

• Every discipline forms particular human virtues.

• Every discipline participates in the university’s shared search for truth.

St. John Henry Newman reminds us:

“All knowledge forms one whole, because its subject matter is one.”

- St. John Henry Newman, The Idea of a University, Discourse III, “Bearing of Theology on Other Branches of Knowledge”, 4

That single sentence captures the essence of the university. Our departments or programs are many. Reality is one. Our methods differ. Truth does not.

Every discipline asks fundamental human questions

At a deeper level, each discipline grapples with a fundamental question about what it means to be human:

• Biology asks: what is life, and what does it mean to steward it?

• Psychology asks: how do you humans suffer, heal, grow, and flourish?

• Political Science asks: how can human communities govern themselves with justice?

• Economics asks: how should resources be ordered to promote genuine human flourishing?

• History asks: how does memory shape our present identity and moral choices?

• Literature asks: how does one imagine the meaning of love, suffering, hope, failure, and articulate man’s meaning?

• Mathematics asks: how do logical order, harmony, and truth manifest in and reveal reality?

• Communication asks: how can truth be faithfully articulated and shared in the community?

Notice the underlying reality: every single academic field ultimately converges upon the human person. That convergence is precisely what a Catholic liberal education illuminates.

The faculty as an intellectual community

This brings us to a crucial insight: liberal education does not happen simply because a curriculum exists on paper. It happens when the faculty themselves embody a living intellectual community.

Pope St. John Paul II describes the Catholic university as:

“A living institutional witness to Christ and his message…”

- Pope St. John Paul II, Ex Corde Ecclesiae (1990), no. 49

That witness is expressed whenever faculty members across all departments or programs:

• Demonstrate intellectual integrity and humility.

• Welcome honest evidence and pursue academic excellence.

• Engage colleagues respectfully across disciplinary boundaries.

Students watch how we interact. They notice when teachers or departments collaborate rather than compete. They notice when a scientist speaks respectfully of theology, or when a philosopher values data. In observing us, students witness a model of what an educated mind looks like.

Integration rather than competition

One of the ongoing temptations in higher education is interdepartmental rivalry:

• Which department generates the most research funding?

• Which major attracts the most students?

• Which field is the most marketable?

While these questions have administrative relevance, educationally they miss the larger horizon. UA&P is not an assemblage of isolated ivory towers. It is an intellectual communion. Different disciplines, different methodologies, different questions, yet one single search for truth – unitas! And that is the true meaning of universitas.

If every academic discipline uniquely enriches liberal education, our final question becomes essentially practical:

• How do we teach in ways that cultivate wisdom rather than mere information processing?

• How do we structure our courses so that they form moral judgement alongside professional skill?

• How do we guide our students to succeed professionally while flourishing as persons

• What does liberal education look like in the day-to-day life of our classrooms?

I invite you to turn to a colleague near you—ideally someone from a different discipline. Together, complete this sentence for each other’s respective field: Your discipline contributes to liberal education by helping students learn to.

Pedagogical implications for faculty

What difference should all of this make in our classrooms?

The encouraging news is that this does not require us to teach entirely different subjects. It asks us to teach our subjects differently.

1. From Delivering Content to Forming Persons

The first pedagogical implication is fundamental. We must see ourselves beyond our being content experts in our disciplines. We must recognize ourselves as educators of human persons, first and foremost.

Of course, expertise matters immensely. Students deserve professors who are intellectually rigorous, professionally competent, and deeply committed to scholarly excellence. But our vocation extends far beyond transmitting data. We are entrusted with forming human lives.

This insight reflects the Second Vatican Council’s declaration that true education aims at “the formation of the human person in the pursuit of his ultimate end and of the good of the societies of which he is a member” (Gravissimum Educationis, no. 1). Every class session should implicitly ask two questions simultaneously:

a. What should students know? (cognitive dimension)

b. What kind of persons are they becoming through learning this? (formative dimension)

Those two questions must never be separated:

In every discipline, knowledge shapes character, whether intentionally or unintentionally.

2. Teaching Students to Ask Deeper Questions

Generative artificial intelligence has permanently altered an ancient assumption about education. For generations, the professor was the primary gateway to information. Today, information is ubiquitous and instant.

Our distinctive contribution as educators is increasingly found elsewhere. That is, in helping students ask better questions.

St. Augustine of Hippo reminds us that education begins in desire, the innate human drive to know, to understand, and to seek wisdom. Yet in his Confessions, he cautions against a restless, superficial pursuit of knowledge:

“There is another form of temptation, even more fraught with danger… the disease of curiosity.”

- St. Augustine of Hippo, Confessions, Book X, Chapter 35

St. Augustine was not condemning genuine intellectual inquiry (studiositas). Rather, he was warning against a scattered, consumerist curiosity (curiositas) that seeks novel information without wisdom, and facts without personal transformation.

Our task as educators is not meant to satisfy curiosity, but to discipline and elevate it. Instead of allowing students to stop at “What is the answer?”, we invite them to ask:

• Is this claim true, and how do we know?

• What underlying assumptions frame this argument?

• What are the ethical consequences of this conclusion?

• Whose voices or perspectives are missing here?

• What moral responsibilities follow from acquiring this knowledge?

3. The Classroom as a Community of Collaborative Inquiry

A university that is Catholic should model academic rigor, and more importantly intellectual charity. Students should experience the classroom as a sanctuary where honest disagreement is welcomed because truth is pursued collaboratively rather than competitively.

Pope Benedict XVI emphasized that reason and faith walk together in the search for truth. In his address to Catholic educators, he noted:

“A particular responsibility of each Catholic educational institution is to offer a witness to the ‘profound unity that exists between the way of faith and the way of reason’… [enabling] students to acquire a vision of the subtle balance between the human person’s capacity for self-transcendence and the limitations of human reason.”

- Pope Benedict XVI, Address to Catholic Educators at The Catholic University of America (April 17, 2008)

Facts matter, but facts require interpretation within a coherent vision of reality. Universities produce and distribute information in order to help students see reality more truthfully.

This changes our dynamic as teachers. Rather than rushing to provide instant answers, we can intentionally respond with deeper questions, not to evade the issue, but to invite student discernment. This is why seminar discussions, case studies, reflective writing, collaborative research, and interdisciplinary dialogues remain indispensable. They cultivate habits of discernment rather than passive consumption.

4. Intellectual Humility in an Age of Certainty

Today’s media-savvy culture rewards instant commentary. Social media algorithms incentivize outrage, and AI tools generate fluent answers in seconds. Yet genuine scholarship requires intellectual humility.

St. Thomas Aquinas, despite his monumental intellectual output, maintained a deep awareness of the limits of human reason before the divine mystery. His writings consistently demonstrate that intellectual rigor and deep humility belong together.

This humility should mark our teaching. It is acceptable, and often profoundly educational, for a professor to say: “I don’t know the answer to the question, but let’s investigate find out together.”

Such statements do not diminish faculty authority. They establish credibility. Students learn that scholarship is an ongoing, humble search for truth rather than a performance of omniscience.

5. Cultivating Ethical Discernment Across the Disciplines

Every academic field encounter ethical thresholds. The goal is not to turn every class into an ethics or moral theology class. Instead, the ethical dimensions already present within the field can be brought to light:

• Engineering and Technology: Does this technology serve authentic human needs or exploit human weakness?

• Natural Sciences: How do we ensure research integrity and respect for life?

• Psychology: How do we uphold human dignity and confidentiality in clinical settings?

• Economics and Business: How do market practices align with distributive justice and human rights?

• Communication: How do we combat digital misinformation and practice public honesty?

• Environmental Science: How do we carry out faithful stewardship of creation while harnessing its resources?

Knowledge never exists in a vacuum. It carries real-world human consequences. Students profit immensely from assignments that ask not only “what can be done?” (competence), but also “what should be done?” (prudence).

6. Assessing for Wisdom, not Mere Recall

If liberal education values wisdom, judgement, and synthesis, our assessment practices must reflect these values.

Foundational knowledge is non-negotiable – students cannot analyze concepts they have not mastered. However, once foundational knowledge is established, assessments should challenge students to analyze, compare, synthesize, evaluate, reflect, and create.

St. John Henry Newman argued in The Idea of a University that true education “enlarges the mind” by enabling students to see relationships among disparate ideas. Our assessments should reward integrative learning rather than rote repetition.

We can cultivate this through:

• Applied case analyses that present messy, real-world dilemmas.

• Reflective synthesis essays connecting theoretical concepts to moral practice.

• Collaborative research that requires multiple perspectives and original synthesis.

• Community-engaged learning projects that place academic knowledge at the service of others

7. Teacher as Witness

Students learn from who we are and how we live. Long after they forget our specific decks or assignment instructions, they remember our character and example.

In Ex Corde Ecclesiae, Pope St. John Paul II wrote:

“Academic teachers are called to be outstanding in integrity of doctrine and probity of life.”

- Pope St. John Paul II, Ex Corde Ecclesiae (1990), no.22

Notice that he pairs intellectual integrity with moral integrity. Students observe whether we prepare meticulously, treat them with patience, acknowledge our errors, speak truthfully, and take genuine joy in learning.

7. Recovering Intellectual Wonder

Finally, there is a pedagogical practice that transcends every discipline: cultivating wonder. Too often, university life is dominated by content coverage. We rush through our syllabuses, grading assignments under tight deadlines, and fulfilling accreditation requirements. These administrative tasks are necessary, but if students graduate having mastered technical content without ever experiencing intellectual wonder, we have fallen short. C.S. Lewis captures this imperative brilliantly:

“The task of the modern educator is not to cut down jungles, but to irrigate deserts.”

- C.S. Lewis, The Abolition of Man (1943), Chapter 1

Liberal education is not merely clearing away ignorance. It is awakening life. Our classrooms should be places where students discover, more than technical information, delight in truth, reverence for creation, gratitude for beauty, and hope for the future.

Liberal education is not about administrative structures or distribution of general education requirements. It is ultimately about the kind of university community we aspire to build, and fundamentally, the kind of human beings we hope our students will become.

Before we conclude, I invite you to think of some of the changes you can make in your syllabus or classroom this coming semester that would cultivate wisdom, ethical discernment, or wonder among your students.

Conclusion and challenge for us all

To draw this lecture to a close, I suggest that we revisit the decisive question, the very question with which we began:

What kind of graduate do we hope to form?

• Not merely: what technical skills will our graduates possess?

• Not only: what lucrative careers will they pursue?

• But most fundamentally: who will they become?

Beyond success: The true goal of higher education

The answer to the question dictates everything we do within our classrooms.

If our highest goal is the formation of human persons who seek truth, love, wisdom, serve the common good, and uphold the sacred dignity of every human being, then our classrooms cease to be places of mere information transfer. They become sanctuaries of human transformation.

St. John Henry Newman reminded us that the true purpose of a university is the cultivation of an intellect capable of apprehending reality in its fullness. He described the genuinely educated person as possessing:

“A connected view or grasp of things.”

- St. John Henry Newman, The Idea of a University, Discourse V, “ Knowledge Its Own End”

That phrase is urgent for our time:

• In an age of fragmented information, liberal education forms intellectual integration.

• In an age of hyper-specialization, it restores wholeness.

• In an age of relentless distraction, it cultivates sustained attention.

• In an age of moral uncertainty, it forms prudent judgement.

Our mission

Our goal is more than graduating clever individuals. Our biggest mission is to form persons who embody wisdom, integrity, solidarity, and excellence animated by faith, reason, and love.

Pope St. John Paul II writes in Ex Corde Ecclesiae:

“The basic mission of a University is a continuous quest for truth through its research, and the preservation and communication of knowledge for the good of society.”

- St. John Paul II, Ex Corde Ecclesiae (1990), no. 30

That is the soul of higher education. Truth is never sought for private aggrandizement. It is always ordered toward service.

Our vocation as veachers

We often talk about our heavy workloads: teaching hours, mentoring, research expectations, extension programs, meetings here and there, accreditation, and syllabus revisions. These responsibilities are real, and frequently demanding.

Yet beneath their weight lies something infinitely deeper: a sacred vocation.

Pope Francis has taught us that education is fundamentally an act of hope:

“To educate is always an act of hope.”

- Pope Francis, Address for the Global Compact on Education (15 October 2020)

Hope is not naïve optimism. Hope is the firm conviction that minds can be enlightened, hearts can be transformed, and education participates in God’s ongoing renewal of the world.

A threefold challenge

Let us then pay attention to these three invitations:

1. Pursue Uncompromising Academic Excellence

   The Catholic intellectual has never feared rigorous scholarship. The person demands it. Intellectual excellence honors both our students and the God who is the source of all truth. Let our research and teaching always remain fearlessly ordered toward objective truth.

2. Teach Our Field as Part of a Unified Conversation

   Let us help our students connect the dots between faith, ethics, economics, history, communications, arts, science, etc. Let us invite them to ask not only “How do we achieve this?” but “Why does this matter?” Not only “Can we do this?” but “Should we do this?”

In doing so, we restore that unity of knowledge that lies at the heart of the word universitas.

3. Never Underestimate the Power of Our Example

Students may forget our lectures, but they rarely forget teachers who embody integrity, patience, joy, and intellectual generosity.

Good teaching cannot be reduced to technique. Authentic education flows from the faith, identity, and moral integrity of the teacher acting as a living witness in the classroom.

Restless heart and the search for meaning

More than sixteen centuries ago, St. Augustine of Hippo wrote his famous prayer regarding the deepest yearning of the human spirit:

“You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.”

— St. Augustine, Confessions, Book I, Chapter 1

Our students walk through our university gates carrying many kinds of restlessness:

• Some seek intellectual mastery.

• Some seek career success.

• Some seek belonging and validation.

• Some seek moral guidance and hope.

Whether they realize it or not, their university journey is part of that deeper human search for truth and meaning.

Our task is not to hand them easy answers. Our task is to accompany them on the journey: teaching them to seek truth with humility, wisdom with perseverance, and goodness with courage.

When we educate in that spirit, we engage in the formation of whole human persons. And we contribute directly to the moral and spiritual renewal of our families, our communities, the Church, our nation, and the world.

Final charge

Before we display our slide, before we launch into our lecture, before we review the course syllabus...

Let us ask:“What kind of person will this lesson help my students become?”

If that question accompanies every lecture we prepare, every assignment we grade, every research project we supervise, and every conversation we hold with our students, then liberal education will cease to be merely an abstract educational ideal. It will become the living, beating heart of UA&P.

Thank you very much!

This speech was delivered by Commencement Speaker Jose R. Soberano III during the 31st University Graduation Rites held at the Plenary Hall, PICC on August 15, 2026.

Thank you for your warm invitation. It is a joy and an honor to be with you this afternoon.

As a young Cebuano from humble beginnings, I came to Manila 54 years ago to pursue my college degree. I arrived with a simple suitcase, a few clothes, and the hope that a better education would lead to a better future for me and my family.

Never did I imagine that one day I would stand here as the commencement speaker at one of our country’s most respected universities. Life, indeed, has a wonderful way of bringing us full circle.

But this is not my first UA&P graduation here at the PICC. I have sat in this audience before—not as a guest, a professor, or a commencement speaker—but as a proud father.

In 2009, and again in 2013, I watched two of my daughters, Joanna and Jamie, graduate from this very University, both from the Integrated Marketing Communications program.

Today, I continue to see the fruits of that education. Both have built successful careers on their own and now serve as important pillars in my company, Cebu Landmasters. As a father, I will always be grateful to UA&P—not only for educating my daughters, but for helping shape the women and leaders they have become.

So before I congratulate the graduates, allow me first to recognize my fellow UA&P parents. Parents, congratulations. This milestone belongs to you as much as it belongs to your children. May we give all our parents a warm round of applause.

Over the years, my relationship with UA&P has grown far beyond that of a parent. Through the SBEP Program, supporting the University’s recent expansion in Cebu, and learning from UA&P’s founders and leaders who have become my mentors and friends, I have come to appreciate what makes this University truly distinctive.

While I am not a graduate of UA&P, I have long admired what this University has sought to do differently: not simply to educate minds, but to form people.

And I believe that mission has never been more relevant. You, graduates, are entering the workforce at a remarkable moment, when AI is significantly transforming how we work and challenging us to think more deeply about what only we, as human beings, can bring.

Many people will ask you what you plan to do next. But I would like to ask you a different question: Who will you become?

Because in a world where knowledge is everywhere, and technology continues to level the playing field, what will ultimately distinguish you is not only what you know—it is who you are. That, I believe, is the enduring advantage of a UA&P education.

Over the past four decades, I have had the opportunity to hire people, build organizations, and watch countless careers unfold. Through it all, one question has stayed with me: What truly sets some people apart?

And the answer lies in many of the same values UA&P has worked to instill in you.

So today I will leave you with three principles—values central to your formation here, which I hope you will continue to strengthen as you step into the real world.

So first :

1. Build Character before Credentials

As you leave this hall today, you will join thousands of graduates entering the workforce. All of you will have degrees. Many of you will have impressive grades, internships, certifications, and resumes.

Those things will help you get noticed. But over time, people will remember something far more important: Can you be trusted? Because every opportunity in life ultimately rests on trust.

When people trust you, relationships grow. Colleagues want to work with you. Mentors invest in you. Teams follow you. People entrust you with greater responsibility. Over time, the quality of your relationships becomes one of the clearest reflections of your character.

The same lesson guided me when I founded Cebu Landmasters. We started as a small company competing against much larger real estate developers. Yet customers entrusted us with their homes, employees chose to build their careers with us, and partners chose to grow alongside us.

I don’t believe that happened because we were the best or the biggest, but because we placed relationships at the heart of our business. We worked hard to earn people’s trust by listening,

showing up consistently, and delivering on our commitments. Over time, those relationships became the foundation upon which our company was built.

So my first advice is this: Don’t spend your early years only building your credentials. Continue building your character.

Because character earns trust, trust builds relationships, and those relationships will open more doors than credentials ever will.

My second is this:

2. Build Wisdom before Convenience

Technology will continue to change the way you work. But it will never replace your judgment.

The defining moments in our careers rarely come when everything is going well. They come during times of uncertainty—when there are no easy answers and every decision carries consequences.

At Cebu Landmasters, some of the decisions I am proudest of were made during our most difficult times.

During the pandemic, for example, the safer and more convenient choice would have been to stop construction, postpone new projects, and minimize our exposure to risk, as many businesses did. Instead, we chose to keep moving forward. It was not an easy decision, and there was no obvious right answer at the time.

But we reminded ourselves that many people were relying on us: employees who needed their jobs, homeowners waiting for the homes we had promised, contractors and suppliers with businesses to sustain, and workers who needed to keep earning to put food on the table for their families.

So we kept going. We continued building, launched more projects, delivered homes, and served our customers instead of waiting for the situation to become more certain. We did not know exactly how the pandemic would unfold, but we made the best judgment we could, guided by what we believed was right for the greater good.

Those decisions helped define who we were as a company. And because we kept moving, we emerged stronger, stayed ahead, and most importantly, fulfilled our commitments.

The defining moments of your career will be no different. They will come when the correct path is not the easiest one, when your values are tested, or when there seems to be no clear right or wrong answer at all.

One of the greatest gifts of your education is sound judgment—the ability to think critically, discern wisely, and act with integrity.

So continue to cultivate it. Embrace technology. Master it. But never surrender your thinking to it. Never let convenience replace discernment, or speed replace wisdom.

Because in the end, your career will be defined not by the answers you find, but by the decisions you make.

And finally:

3. Build Purpose beyond Success

As you begin your careers, many people will ask what you want to become. What profession will you pursue? Which company will you join?

But there is an even more important one: What are you here for?

The answer did not come immediately for me.

After 23 years with the Ayala Group, I left a stable and promising corporate career to run for Congress, believing that was where I was meant to serve.

I lost that election, but I didn’t want to give up, convinced that public service is my calling. As I prepared for another campaign, I began to see a different opportunity to serve closer to home.

Near my hometown in the countryside of Cebu, I saw that many hardworking families did not have access to affordable, quality housing.

That inspired my first housing project, which I called St. Josemaria Village—named after my patron saint and the inspiration behind your University, St. Josemaría Escrivá.

That first project changed the course of my life, and eventually led to the founding of Cebu Landmasters in 2003.

I realized I had not abandoned public service. I had simply found a different way of living it. By helping Filipino families own their homes, building communities, and improving people’s lives, I found my purpose.

And perhaps the important lesson I can leave you with is this: I did not discover my purpose after graduation. I discovered it at 47. So don’t be anxious if you don’t have your whole life figured out today.

Be patient in discovering your purpose, but intentional in pursuing it. Keep asking yourself: What gifts have I been given? Whom am I called to serve?

Success may bring recognition, promotions, or financial rewards. But purpose gives meaning to them all. When your work is guided by purpose, success becomes more than personal achievement—it becomes a source of hope, service, and light for others.

As I stand before you today, I also find myself at a meaningful milestone in my own journey. Just last month, after more than two decades of building Cebu Landmasters, I stepped down as President and CEO. I transitioned to the role of Executive Chairman, passing leadership to the next generation—my children and the leaders who will carry the company forward long after my time.

That transition has reminded me of what truly matters.

While I am grateful for the homes and communities we have built, I am even more grateful for the home I return to every day - my wife, my four children, my eight grandchildren, my family and friends, and the many people who have walked with me throughout this journey.

And perhaps this is what Unitas has come to mean to me—recognizing that the work we do, the people we love, the values we uphold, and the God we serve are not separate parts of our lives. They are all part of one life.

And one day, when our own journey is complete, we will all be called home. What will matter then is not simply what we achieved, but how we used the one precious life God entrusted to us.

Graduates, today you leave this University, but your formation does not end here.

Wherever life takes you and whatever career you pursue, build your character. Cultivate wisdom. Live with purpose.

May you use your talents not only to build successful careers, but to build lives of meaning.

And when the world asks not only what you have achieved, but who you have become, may your life be the answer.

Congratulations, Class of 2026. Thank you and may God bless you all. Mabuhay kayong lahat!

St. Francis once said, “When you lose the capacity to dream, you lose the capacity to love.”

About ten years ago, I stood in a small gymnasium in my province to deliver my very first valedictory address. Before I stepped down from that stage, I quietly made myself a promise: “One day, I’ll do this again.” I didn’t know where that stage would be, or what it would cost. I only knew that I wanted to keep becoming someone worthy of standing on it.

Today, standing before all of you, I realize something. The dream was never really about standing on another stage. It was about becoming the kind of person the journey would require.

We were taught that blazing a trail is an invitation to become pioneers, positive changemakers, and leaders in our respective fields. But perhaps the deeper challenge of blazing a trail is not merely to be the first to walk a path. It is to have the courage to march forward, the wisdom to acknowledge those who made the journey possible, and the heart to make the way easier for those who follow.

We begin to blaze our own trails by trying hard, and by accepting that trying hard isn’t glamorous.

It looks like rehearsing every single word in your mind before raising your hand for recitation. It looks like staying up after everyone else has called it a day. It looks like showing up again and again after every setback.

As someone who still panics when suddenly asked, “What’s six times seven?”, I knew I had to spend extra hours studying for subjects that, ironically, involved the most basic mathematical operations. It would certainly make for a more inspiring speech if I could tell you that I earned flat uno’s in all of them. Sadly, I didn’t.

Because no matter how hard we try, limitations will always exist. But limitations are not hindrances, let alone excuses. They are invitations to grow. And growing often begins with the simple decision to try anyway. While other people use the term try-hard as an insult, I’ve learned to wear it as a badge of honor. Because being a try-hard means refusing to let our limitations define who we are and what we are capable of becoming.

Yet the greatest lesson I learned from trying hard is that it shapes us long before it rewards us. It teaches us to become comfortable with discomfort, to confront our weaknesses instead of hiding from them, and to go the extra mile even without the guarantee of better outcomes. It strengthens our character—and we keep going.

But no trailblazer truly walks alone.

I was fortunate to have parents who believed in me long before I learned to believe in myself—parents who allowed me to dream farther than our circumstances sometimes allowed, and who taught me the value of hard work, integrity, generosity, and faith. They taught me that while God rewards those who earnestly pursue their aspirations, He delights even more in those who choose to share and uplift others.

I was also blessed with grandparents whose prayers carried me through, and with a grandfather who taught me the meaning of sacrifice in the most tangible way. If today I stand beneath bright lights wearing a toga, it is because years ago, he stood beneath the scorching sun for hours, plowing fields so that my dad and his siblings could dream a little farther—so that I could dream a little farther.

His life reminds me that an opportunity is rarely ours alone. Someone worked for it before us. Someone cleared the trail before we arrived.

As a full merit scholar for five years, I never saw my scholarship merely as a reward for academic excellence, or even as financial assistance. I saw it as a trust this institution placed in me—a belief that my education could someday make a difference—and a responsibility to be honored and acted upon.

With all that, my motivation throughout the years sounded like this: “I can’t afford to fail, because not everyone is given the chance to try.” But over time, that mindset changed into something deeper: “I must do well so that more people can have that chance.”

I believe that the highest form of gratitude is not merely remembering who opened the door for us. It is holding that door open for someone else.

Because gratitude that ends with “thank you” is incomplete.

True gratitude asks, “Now that I have been blessed, what will I do with this blessing?” We honor the blessings we receive not by counting them, but by multiplying them.

And perhaps the true measure of success is not how many doors we open for ourselves, but how many remain open for others after we have walked through them. That, to me, is what it means to be a trailblazer.

Batch 2026, today, we celebrate a remarkable milestone. But let us remember that commencement is called commencement for a reason. It is not the end. It is the beginning.

The beginning of bigger dreams. Bigger opportunities. And bigger responsibilities—not only to ourselves, but to those who will follow the trails we choose to blaze.

The world before us is marked by both uncertainty and possibility. We will continue to navigate rapid social, political, economic, and technological change. Yet through the education and formation we have received, I trust that we possess the values, knowledge, and capacity to shape a future that honors our shared humanity.

The lessons we carry from Pearl Drive were never meant to remain within Pearl Drive.

For me, that means carrying forward the dreams of the fishermen of Dangay in Oriental Mindoro and the farmers of Tabuating in Nueva Ecija. May we never forget the communities that raised us, nor the communities we are now called to build. Whatever it is, I hope it is a place where opportunities are shared and not reserved for the fortunate, where love is measured by service, where success is admired not because it is impressive, but because it becomes transformative, and where every child believes their dream of standing on bigger stages like this deserves a chance, too.

St. Francis reminds us that “when you lose the capacity to dream, you lose the capacity to love.”

So may we continue to dream, not only for ourselves, but for those who have yet to discover that they are allowed to dream at all.

May we continue to love, not only through our words, but through lives spent in service of others.

And when another young girl stands in a small gymnasium in her province, or on a bigger stage like this, may she do so because someone before her believed in her dreams, just as someone once believed in ours.

May she find a trail that someone chose to blaze.

May she find a door that someone chose to leave open.

And may she, in turn, do the same for someone else.

Congratulations, Batch 2026.

Thank you very much, and may God bless us all.

This article was originally a homily delivered by Fr. Estrada on August 14, 2026, at the Baccalaureate Mass for the graduating students of Batch 2026. The Mass was held at the Sancta Maria Stella Orientis Oratory at the University of Asia and the Pacific.

Members of the Management Committee and the Board of Trustees, professors, staff, graduates, parents, and friends present here today, good morning.

We are celebrating this Mass of Thanksgiving to express to God our deep gratitude for having helped all of you throughout your college years to reach this moment. We also thank God for the graces He has showered upon all of us.

The World Cup concluded last July. You may have noticed that each time a goal is scored, the supporters of the scoring team and the sports commentators shout, “GOAL!”

I would like to use that word, GOAL, as an acronym to convey lessons that you graduates can reflect on as you embark on this new stage in your lives.

G, for GOD. The formation you received at UA&P should have made you realize how important it is to turn to God for everything and to offer to Him all that we do.

When you do your work, ask God for help so that you can do it well. We cannot offer to God something that is not worthy of Him. Within the limitations of time and resources, let us do our very best to offer to God work that is worthy of Him.

We should also turn to God for help in all that we do. May we not depend solely on our own efforts. Let us realize that we need God’s grace to work well.

O, for OTHERS. God has given us our lives, talents, and opportunities for the service of others. We do not live for ourselves alone; we live for others. In whatever endeavor in life you find yourselves, be aware that you are there to serve, not only your company, but also the people who benefit from it.

In my college days, I would go on outreach visits to the cancer ward of Philippine General Hospital (PGH). The cancer patients were financially challenged, and many of them came from the provinces. I would invite another student to come along with me. I had friends who were doctors and nurses at PGH, and I would ask them which patients could be visited.

One of those visits is one I never forgot. It was to a young girl. The doctor recommended that we visit her and explained her situation. She had terminal cancer and had been given only three months to live. She did not know this yet because the doctor was waiting for her parents to come from the province to break the news to them.

The student accompanying me and I went to see the girl. I thought this would be another ordinary visit to sick people. The girl we met was about to graduate from high school. She was quite bubbly and talkative. She told us about her plans after graduating from high school, the course she would take in college, and how she wanted to help her parents financially.

I forced my best smile when I heard that. Have you ever been in a situation like this? I knew very well that this girl’s dreams would never be fulfilled, and it broke my heart. But I could not show it on my face, so I had to put on a cheerful demeanor.

After that visit, I felt that God was telling me, “Look, you’re studying in a good school, your family is okay, you have no financial difficulties... You had better make use of the opportunities and talents you have for others. There are people like this girl who would have wanted a future, but won’t have it.”

Whatever talents and opportunities you have, use them for other people. Don’t harbor selfish ambitions in life.

A, for ADJUST. Things will not always work out the way you want them to. Reality is not like that. You may start working somewhere, then have to change and adapt to another type of work later on. Challenges and difficulties will surely crop up, and you have to be resilient.

Pope Francis would talk about God’s surprises. These changes in your lives are God leading you along new paths. But keep in mind that God’s surprises are always good. Adjust, adapt, and retool yourselves.

I, for one, took up Mechanical Engineering in college. I ended up working as an Industrial Engineer. Then, I was called to the priesthood and had to study Philosophy and Theology. I finally ended up with a Doctorate in Philosophy. Here I am in UA&P teaching Theology. Talk about radical changes in life.

L is for LOVE. Let us do everything for the love of God. Love others for the sake of God. Love God by adjusting to His plans and surprises. Love the tasks of each day. When there is love, you will be able to face whatever God asks of you in your lives.

Finally, keep alive the bonds of friendship you have formed in school. Support each other. Never leave anyone behind. If you know of some batchmates who are finding life difficult, reach out to them. Don’t leave them alone.

If you are lost and need to find your way, come back to UA&P. Look for that mentor, that professor whom you think can help you, that chaplain who taught you Theology or whom you used to go to for confession or spiritual guidance. All of us in the University are very willing to help you get back on your feet.

Pray for all of us, and pray for each other. Pray also for your mentors and professors, even those you do not like.

May God bless all of you as you embark on this new stage of your lives.

Good afternoon to our distinguished guests; to our commencement speaker, Mr. Joe Soberano; to the families and loved ones of our dear graduates; to my UA&P family; and, of course, to our dear graduates—the Class of 2026.

Today’s graduation coincides with the University’s 59th Foundation Day. Fifty-nine years ago, in 1967, in a garage in Malate, the Center for Research and Communication was established. CRC would go on to become the country’s leading independent think tank on economics, business, and public policy.

And today we are very much privileged to have both our founders with us: Dr. Jess Estanislao and Dr. Bernie Villegas. Dr. Jess would later become UA&P’s first president when CRC became a full-fledged university in 1995.

We are also blessed to have with us today two of UA&P’s past presidents: our third president, Dr. Jojo Mariano, who was the president when I was a college student at UA&P; and our fourth president, my predecessor, Dr. Stan Padojinog.

Today’s commencement is also especially meaningful to me because it is, in fact, my first commencement as President of this University.

And because you are the first graduating class I have the privilege of sending forth, I have prepared something special for you.

In fact, I wrote you a story. It is the story of Ember. It is a story that I hope you will remember whenever you look back on this day—the day that you graduated from UA&P. So let me begin.

My dear dragons, our dear children… this is also why UA&P is here.

Not merely to teach you what to do, but to help you discover who you are and what you are for. We gave you a Catholic formation because before you are professionals, you are children of God.

We gave you a liberal education because before you can lead others, you must learn to seek the truth, love what is good, and delight in what is beautiful. And we gave you your professional specializations because love deserves competence.

But all these were ordered toward something greater: that, in the spirit of St. Josemaría (founder of Opus Dei), you may sanctify your work, serve others generously, and become saints.

Yes, you are called to be saints.

And as St Josemaria would remind us: you do not need to do extraordinary things to become saints. Because more often than not, holiness is found in the ordinary things. It is found in doing your ordinary work with excellence, with love, and with the right intention.

Always thinking of others. Always pursuing a mission greater than yourself. And Always offering your very best to God. But if, like Ember, you should one day lose your way; if you should stumble; if you should fall; if success should tempt you to forget who you are, or failure make you doubt who you are... Remember that you can always come back home to your UA&P. And we will be here.

Your teachers, your mentors, your friends. Your old donkeys. We will remind you that you are dragons and that you were made for the skies. We will be here. Because we will never define you by your failures. And we will never measure you by your successes.

When you can no longer see the good in yourselves, we will remind you of the goodness that God placed within you. When you feel broken, we will remind you that you are still whole in His love. When guilt weighs heavily on your hearts, we will remind you of His mercy. And when you lose sight of your purpose, we will remind you once again why you were given wings.

That you are dragons, and that you were made for the skies. And together, we will say, “Come. Let us begin again.” For UA&P is not merely the place where you earned your degree. It is your home. You will always have a place here because you will always be our children.

And now, as we release to the skies to blaze your trails, we entrust you to the loving care of Our Lady. May Mary, Star of the Orient, Mother of UA&P, accompany you wherever God may lead you.

And may you, through her maternal intercession, become not only successful professionals, but faithful disciples, joyful servants, and holy men and women.

Congratulations, Class of 2026.

And may God bless us all.

Worth Living, Worth Loving

Good afternoon, everyone. It is with great honor and gratitude to welcome you all to this memorable occasion and to say these words: congratulations to us, the Class of 2026. I would first like to acknowledge the presence of the members of the Board of Trustees, the Management Committee, and this year’s commencement speaker, Mr. Joe Soberano III. Thank you to the UA&P educators for gracing us with your presence in today’s ceremony—we owe all our knowledge and lifelong lessons to you. To our loved ones, our family, relatives, and friends, your support and encouragement reach us always no matter where you are, making each day of studying and learning more meaningful. Finally, to my fellow batchmates, this milestone is a result of your sacrifice, patience, and hard work, and it is only right that we celebrate in love and gratitude.

How we each found our way to UA&P is, of course, unique. You may have heard of it through your school fairs, or you may have had your eye on it as your dream university long before applying. For me, I knew about UA&P as a toddler. At that time, my father was taking his Master’s in Values Education every Saturday, as a supplement to his teaching role in an all-boys school. My earliest memory of the university stemmed from a funny, unfortunate instance when our car broke down, and he still had to make it to class. Since he intended to bring me along that day, we had no choice but to commute. That trip from Cavite to Pasig even became the trick my parents used to feed me my vegetables—instead of “here comes the airplane,” my parents would say, “First stop, the jeep. Next stop, MRT,” and so on, until we finally reached UA&P. Today, we come together at the UA&P graduation, and the only difference now is that, between me and my dad, one of us will finally have a master’s degree. So, Dad, nauna pa ako sa’yo!

All humor aside, this anecdote reminds us of the sacrifices made by our loved ones to ensure our studies are completed with ease or comfort—sacrifices made, most of all, by our parents. To Dad, once again, I am ever so grateful for you teaching me the importance of humility in both education and work, as every opportunity trains us to be stronger. To my mommy, thank you for the packed baons you shipped from Cavite to Pasig every other week, the calls you tookwhere I just spilled stories from my day even when you were tired from chores at home, and the silent prayers you echoed, always wishing for my safety. On behalf of the graduates, thank you to our parents who have done everythingwithin their capacity to allow us to receive quality education, and trust us enough to make this university an extension of our home. You were our first and greatest supporters, and all achievements we celebrate today are dedicated to you.Thank you as well to our siblings and relatives—

Speaking of finding a home in this university, that idea is built on the communities each of us formed with the people we met along the way. For many of us, it all began in the classroom, and the ones who first welcomed us into that community were our teachers. To our professors, thank you for encouraging and instilling excellence in everything we do. Beyond the technical knowledge we gained in class, it is the real-world experiences and advice you shared with us that will stay with us as lessons we will carry over to our professional lives.

The community each of us found at UA&P is remarkable in many ways. The School of Economics, for instance, was already a small community on its own, yet there were still avenues outside the classroom to foster relationships across batches, with faculty, and with alumni, such as the Business Economics Association (BEA). For the rest of you, that community you found might have been in your block, your varsity team, your organization, or simply the friends you eat lunch with every day. This community both challenged us and championed our success, because there’s no better way to achieve something than to share it with others. To the friends we made along the way, thank you for the memories, both the shared suffering of assignments completed and quizzes studied for together, and the wholesome joy of the spontaneous moments that made college life so much more exciting.

UA&P became a place that changed who I believed I could become. Entering as a clueless freshman in the middle of a hybrid setup, I didn’t know what was awaiting me over the next five years. I never knew I would end up leading as the President of BEA, my home organization, or even set foot as an intern from UA&P at the Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas (BSP). There is no doubt that the school sets us up for excellence because it is a collaborative effort with our peers, teachers, advisers, mentors, and most importantly, our Faith, that brings us here today. Once again, thank you for believing in us.

Beyond being a celebration of our success in university, today also marks the end of an important season of our lives. Even before reaching this point, I found myself saying, “I miss my undergrad days,” or “I miss being in my little bubble on campus.” When we miss something, whether it’s a person, a place, or a moment, there’s a tinge of sadness in it. But we must remember that this sadness is rooted in love. In a way, we are grieving that time of our lives. Because we loved greatly, we will miss who we were.

However, grief need not only be something we feel after experiencing loss—it can also be a transformation. We are transformed into better versions of ourselves today because we’ve learned to appreciate what we lived through. This appreciation is rather a quiet one, which is why I believe fondness is a better word for it. And looking back with fondness is what equips us with the maturity and courage to embrace whatever comes next.

As we find our place in the world once more, may we continue to carry with us the people we thank today, for they will remain part of every milestone we celebrate in the future. Even as we bid farewell to the pearl of Pasig City, we now step forward to uncover the many gems the real world has to offer.

So for now, let us carry this day with fondness, for it is a celebration of every moment worth living and worth loving. Thank you, and congratulations, to all of us.

The University of Asia and the Pacific (UA&P) School of Management (SMN) celebrated the achievements of its graduating students at the School of Management Recognition Rites on August 13, 2026, at the Li Seng Giap Auditorium.

For 14 years, the School of Management has continued its tradition of recognizing students for their academic excellence, special achievements, and contributions to the SMN community, honoring their hard work and perseverance throughout their UA&P journey. The ceremony brought together the graduating class, faculty, mentors, staff, and, most importantly, the parents and families of the awardees, who gathered to share in this special milestone.

The celebration featured messages from Julienne Andie Miranda, MScM graduating student, who welcomed the guests and fellow students; Jullienne Faye C. Collante, BSBA graduating student, who spoke on behalf of the graduating class; and Lucci Williene D. Mikesell, BSA graduating student, who delivered an inspiring message to her fellow graduates.

The Recognition Rites also formally recognized the Class of 2026, as program directors presented the candidates for graduation to Dr. Anna Maria E. Mendoza, Dean of the School of Management of the previous academic year. Dr. Mendoza officially recognized the candidates after confirming that they fulfilled the requirements of their respective programs.

The celebration continued with Blaze, the School of Management’s valedictory dinner for all graduating students. More than a farewell, Blaze was a heartfelt celebration of the friendships, memories, challenges, and triumphs that shaped the graduating class.

The 14th Recognition Rites and Blaze were fitting tributes to the Class of 2026—a celebration of how far they have come and of the people who journeyed with them along the way. As they take their next steps beyond UA&P, SMN sends them forth with pride and wishes them a future filled with purpose, success, and meaningful impact.

The themes of Beyond the Classroom are the culmination of a diverse professional journey. Dr. Celerino Tiongco’s original career path was not in education; he studied geology, worked in mineral exploration and mining, and held roles in business consultancy and publishing before joining the Center for Research and Communication (CRC) in 1975. His eventual transition into education gave him the opportunity to further explore questions he had first encountered 25 years ago during his doctoral studies at Columbia University, particularly on the moral imagination. The years of reflection eventually led to a fundamental inquiry: What does it really mean to educate a person beyond the development of competence? In his book, Dr. Celerino Tiongco argues that education is essentially human formation—a quiet work that takes place through patient conversation, attentive silence, and the humility of sowing seeds without controlling their growth.

Dr. Celerino Tiongco emphasized that while the book carries one author’s name, it is the fruit of a shared effort. He credited several key figures who contributed to the book’s completion, including Rex Drilon II, who prodded him for years to write; Fernan Lukban, who made the book a personal project in celebration of his sixty-fifth birthday; Ambassador Jose L. Cuisia, Jr., who authored the foreword; and Fr. Carlos Vicente Estrada, who reviewed the moral and doctrinal aspects of the text.

The book has also received significant endorsements from leaders in education and the Church. Juan Edgardo M. Angara, Secretary of Education, noted that the book brings attention back to the “greater task of forming persons” rather than focusing solely on measurable outcomes. Robert Kugelmann of the University of Dallas described the work as a “gentle, loving touch” that urges readers to cultivate the heart, while Socrates B. Villegas, Archbishop of Lingayen-Dagupan, called it a “visionary guide for the future” that is both conversational and authoritative. Sheldon Shaeffer, former Director, UNESCO, praised the book as an “antidote to the pessimism” often found in modern education literature.

Beyond the Classroom: Ten Vital Educative Tasks for Our Times is presented as an invitation to lifelong learning. As Dr. Celerino Tiongco reflected during the launch, the title refers to more than just physical locations; it points to the lifelong work of becoming more human and of helping others do the same. The book is now available to readers as a present contribution to the continuing conversation about education.

Today, the UA&P Center for Student Affairs announced a new university-wide dress code, which primarily implements business casual as the minimum for students and staff members of the University.

To start, “business casual” is not the same thing as “business formal.” To dispel any potential misunderstandings, we must clarify the nature of “business casual” according to the University’s Student Handbook (2024–2025) and the newly announced “University Attire Policy”.

Business casual, as per the Student Handbook, consists of “business-appropriate short or long-sleeved tops/blouses” for women and “short or long-sleeved collared shirts [ . . .] or polo barong” for men, which are to be worn with “full length slacks or trousers” for either sex, or “skirts or dresses” for women exclusively (p. 128). Women are also asked to wear “closed/peep-toe shoes; pumps; dress heels,” whereas men are asked to come to school in “dress shoes, oxfords, loafers or closed walking shoes with socks.”

For this reason, business casual can still be interpreted quite flexibly. The bare minimum for business casual in the handbook is a well-fitted collared shirt, a well-fitted pair of trousers, and a decent pair of shoes. In fact, the idea behind business casual is that one may appear presentable without necessarily having to look uniform. In other words, business casual is what university instructors and professors are asked to wear daily.

The new dress code does not mandate “business formal,” which consists of a suit and tie (or its cultural equivalent) for men and “formal long or three-quarter sleeved tops with or without collar” for women (ibid., p. 127).

Talk of a change in dress code policy has been brought to the students’ attention since the beginning of the previous academic year. This has garnered significant amounts of controversy among students, on account of which I previously suggested that the implementation of these proposals has been delayed, and for a more lenient interpretation of “business casual.”

Fortunately, this has been done.

In the new “University Attire Policy”, the definition of business casual has actually been clarified and in many ways expanded. To begin with, women will not be required to wear heels. The new policy simply requires “sneakers” or, more generally, “open/closed-toe footwear, provided it has a back strap.” Furthermore, the new guidelines allow for “denim, chinos, khakis, dress slacks, and similar trousers” for both men and women. This means that jeans are permitted, so long as they are not “ripped jeans”

The old definition of business casual did not make any provisions for wearing T-shirts; however, the new policy permits those worn with “a blazer, sport coat, or business jacket” for men and “a blazer, cardigan, sweater, or business jacket” for women. “Business jacket” in this case can refer to a windbreaker or something similar.

In conclusion, the new policy actually allows students to wear, at minimum, a decent collared shirt, a decent pair of trousers, and a decent pair of shoes—including sneakers. The new policy is, in many ways, more flexible. A lot of things will remain the same.

President Ferdinand “Bongbong” Marcos Jr. delivered his penultimate State of the Nation Address (SONA) against a backdrop of severe global and domestic strain. Soaring oil prices driven by the ongoing Middle East war continue to fuel economic hardships, particularly for vulnerable sectors. Domestically, the political climate remains tense, rocked by a multi-billion-peso flood control corruption scandal implicating lawmakers, DPWH engineers, local officials, and private contractors, alongside a highly polarized, live-broadcasted impeachment trial against Vice President Sara Duterte.

While the SONA highlighted several measures to ease the daily economic burden on ordinary Filipinos, many rely on short-term populist remedies—such as subsidies (ayuda), oil price rollbacks, excise tax reductions, targeted relief for farmers and transport workers, and free commuter rides. Although these emergency interventions provide immediate relief to vulnerable sectors, the speech lacked sufficient emphasis on long-term institutional solutions. The President did outline key legislative initiatives—including the Sariling Kuryente Act, EPIRA amendments, and revisions to the Ecological Solid Waste Management Act—which require painstaking congressional approval. While much of his “progress report” naturally centered on Executive initiatives, actively engaging Congress is vital to institutionalizing these reforms so they endure beyond his term.

Addressing high energy costs is critical, as electricity prices remain a major barrier to attracting investments, building heavy industries, and expanding local businesses. While the President’s push for renewable and indigenous energy is commendable, bolder solutions are urgently needed. Because the Philippines suffers from the highest electricity rates in ASEAN, its foreign direct investment (FDI) inflows consistently rank among the lowest in the region. The President also highlighted the Pax Silica initiative, which promises to bring high-tech industries to Luzon; however, it will demand massive energy capacities that the country cannot supply in the short term. On a more decisive note, he boldly reopened the debate on nuclear energy—a highly contentious and emotionally charged political issue, but a necessary conversation given our energy realities.

On food security, the President rightly acknowledged the gravity of the problem and detailed support programs for farmers, proudly announcing the distribution of land titles. However, land redistribution alone merits a more nuanced look based on empirical research. Numerous studies highlight the drawbacks of micro-farming, where smallholders face acute shortages of capital, technology, entrepreneurial skills, and market access. In contrast, agricultural leaders like Vietnam and Thailand leverage large-scale farming to maximize economies of scale, mechanization, and global competitiveness. Furthermore, a major gap in the speech was the absence of a strategy for water security, particularly our overdependence on the dwindling capacity of Angat Dam, which supplies both Luzon’s agricultural heartlands and Metro Manila’s consumer needs.

The administration deserves credit for major infrastructure projects—both ongoing and nearing completion—such as railways and highways. Yet these remain heavily concentrated in Luzon; expanding modern transit networks to the Visayas and Mindanao is essential for stimulating rural economic growth.

To his credit, the President set a strong tone by opening his SONA with a sharp focus on corruption—specifically targeting the multi-billion-peso flood control scandal. His declaration—“Hindi ako pangulo ng aking pamilya, hindi ako pangulo ng aking kaibigan, ako ay pangulo ng Pilipinas at ang tungkulin ko ay sa inyo, ang aking mga kapwa Pilipino”—marked a dramatic moment. The public now expects him to mobilize the full force of government to hold all perpetrators accountable, regardless of political ties.

However, the speech noticeably omitted two systemic anti-corruption and governance measures currently pending in Congress: the Anti-Political Dynasty Bill and the Political Party Reform Bill. Without these legislative safeguards to curb oligarchic dominance and foster democratic maturity, the nation’s underlying political, social, and economic struggles will persist.

On the international front, the President reaffirmed the nation’s resolve to defend its territory in the West Philippine Sea, and directed a message to China, “Let me remind our friends and our detractors: Filipinos are a noble, kind, gracious, and great race. We are not greedy. We are not racists. We are not liars. We are respectful, and we are dignified. We are Filipinos, and we do not yield.” To amplify this declaration on the global stage, he could have explicitly cited the support of our Western allies, sending an unmistakable signal of collective deterrence to China.

Finally, the President closed on a strong nationalist note, and a call for unity: “Pilipino sa diwa; Pilipino sa dugo. Mana-ig nawa ang pagkakaisa, at ang pagmamahal natin sa Inang Bayan at sa kapwa-Pilipino. Sa bagay na ito, hindi tayo magkaka-tunggali. Tayo ay magkakabigkis — tulad ng ating pinamalas sa ating buong kasaysayan. Sa mga pang-aalipusta, hindi tayo matitinag. Sa manlulupig, hindi tayo pasisiil ... My beloved countrymen, Let us continue the work that we have started. To make the Philippines the country that Filipinos deserve. There is no nobler cause than this. We do this for our children. We do this for our future. We can but do this, because we love our country and we love our people.”

This article originally appeared on 1 August 2026 in Dr Alviar’s Manila Bulletin column, “Inciting Insights.”

The views expressed here are the author’s and do not necessarily reflect those of the Publication and the University.

When the Pax Silica initiative was announced, criticism came swiftly and from many directions. Environmental groups worried about the enormous electricity and water requirements of AI infrastructure. Governance advocates questioned whether the country had the institutional capacity to negotiate well and regulate such a massive undertaking. Labor groups fret on who would ultimately benefit, while others raised concerns about foreign control, national security, inequality, and whether the Philippines would simply shoulder the environmental costs while richer countries captured the technological gains. Recently, BCDA clarified that no data centers—the central point of many environmental concerns—are planned for the Tarlac portion of the Clark ecosystem. Whether that completely addresses the environmental debate remains to be seen, but it is a reminder that the details are still evolving. In fact, the parties have yet to conclude negotiations, and the public has not seen the negotiating text. Yet the discussion—both for and against Pax Silica—has taken on a life of its own.

Among the many concerns, one stands out because it deserves careful attention. It is the fear that the Philippines will end up contributing only the lowest-value activities in the AI ecosystem while the sophisticated work—chip design, cutting edge software development, advanced research, and innovation—remains elsewhere. This is not really an argument about whether Pax Silica will generate growth or exports for the Philippines. Most people agree it probably can. The real concern is distribution. Will Filipino workers and firms remain trapped at the bottom of the value chain while others capture the knowledge-intensive jobs and the highest returns?

That concern deserves to be taken seriously, but it also rests on what economists would call a static view of industrial development. The Philippines is not entering this race from the sidelines. Electronics has long been the country’s largest export industry. For decades, Philippine firms and workers have been part of global production networks for semiconductors and electronic components. Pax Silica is not about creating an electronics industry from scratch. Rather, it is about taking that existing foundation and connecting it to an even more advanced ecosystem—one built around artificial intelligence, advanced chip technologies, high-performance computing, cloud infrastructure, AI-enabled manufacturing, cybersecurity, and digital innovation. If today’s electronics supply chain is a national highway, Pax Silica aims to connect the Philippines to an expressway where the technologies, investments, and opportunities are moving much faster. The real value of joining that network is that it helps overcome one of the country’s biggest constraints: attracting the scale of technology investment needed to move into the next generation of industries.

The Philippines has seen this kind of evolution before, although in a different industry. When the BPO industry first arrived, many dismissed it as little more than call centers. Then it grew into accounting services, human resource management, healthcare information management, software development, engineering support, legal process outsourcing, and sophisticated back-office operations for global banks and multinational corporations. That transformation did not happen because the industry skipped the simpler tasks. Rather, it materialized because firms built experience, workers acquired new skills, and clients gradually gained the confidence to entrust Philippine operations with more sophisticated functions. Ones firms become part of a production network, they understand the standards, logistics, quality systems and what customers require. This familiarity lowers the cost of taking on more complex work. Economists call this learning by doing. Businesses simply call it building capability.

This does not mean upgrading happens automatically. It requires good education, workforce development, infrastructure, sound institutions, and above all, astute negotiation. The critics are asking an important question, and it should not be ignored. But perhaps the more useful question is not whether the Philippines starts somewhere lower on the value chain. Most countries do. The real challenge is making sure it does not remain there. That seems to be where the negotiations should be focused. Beyond attracting investment, the Philippines should negotiate for opportunities to build local capabilities, develop Filipino suppliers, upgrade the skills of our workforce, and encourage technology transfer. In the end, the success of Pax Silica will not depend on where the Philippines enters the supply chain, but on whether it creates real opportunities for the country to move up it.

This article originally appeared on 7 August 2026 on Dr. Manzano’s LinkedIn page, “Pax Silica: Where to Start and Where to End Up”.

The views expressed here are the author’s and do not necessarily reflect those of the Publication and the University.

One of the biggest lies fostered on humanity was the need for it to impose genocide on itself. That was what the myth of “overpopulation” ultimately decreed: that humans are becoming too many for the planet and thus need to be reduced either before (i.e., through contraceptives or abortion, or destroying the institutions of marriage and the family) or after (euthanasia or assisted suicide) they come into existence.

Unfortunately, that Malthusian mindset was completely wrong. The world is not heading towards overpopulation. The world is just simply too big for us. And if a recent Lancet study holds true, the world’s population may even shrink to alarming levels.

Thus, “the global population was projected to peak in 2064 at 9.73 billion (8.84–10.9) people and decline to 8.79 billion (6.83–11.8) in 2100.” Total fertility rates (TFR) for several countries are expected to fall drastically: “By 2050, 151 countries were forecasted to have a TFR lower than the replacement level (TFR <2·1), and 183 were forecasted to have a TFR lower than replacement by 2100. 23 countries in the reference scenario, including Japan, Thailand, and Spain, were forecasted to have population declines greater than 50% from 2017 to 2100.”

Even more disconcerting is the expected aging global population: “with 2.37 billion (1.91–2.87) individuals older than 65 years and 1.70 billion (1.11–2.81) individuals younger than 20 years, forecasted globally in 2100”.

China, the supposed upcoming superpower, is seen to have its population halved by 48% by the end of this century, with India (expected 1.09 billion by 2100) and Nigeria (791 million) overtaking China’s predicted 732 million. Because of its one child and boys only policy, China, forecasted to become the largest economy by 2035, will gratifyingly see it becoming second place again to the US by 2098.

So, “while the world was expecting a baby boom driven by the COVID-19 pandemic as people locked down in their homes for several months, the supposition came crashing down. The reality is much soberer and the pandemic has actually led to a baby bust rather than a boom. Research shows that the US is facing the biggest slump in births in a century, France has recorded its lowest birth rate since World War II and China has received 15 per cent fewer registrations for babies.”

Pew Research Center, meanwhile, points out that “other advanced countries have also begun to experience declining birth rates. Italy, Japan, France and Belgium are among the nations that have reported sudden drops in births about nine months after the start of the pandemic, compared with the previous year”.Also, as mentioned in this column previously: “Official figures for England and Wales reported a record 50.1% of women being childless by the age of 30”. Finally, this is complemented by the Lancet study: “A sustained TFR lower than the replacement level in many countries, including China and India, would have economic, social, environmental, and geopolitical consequences”.

And what is the prime cause for the shrinking birth rates? The Lancet study says this: “access to contraception will hasten declines in fertility and slow population growth”.

Because once you introduce into society the idea that having children and the family are burdens, it becomes very difficult to reverse and the population slide becomes a long continuous downward spiral.

Which brings us to the RH Law. As pointed out by the Supreme Court (Imbong vs Ochoa, GR 204819): “The population of the country kept on galloping at an uncontrollable pace. From a paltry number of just over 27 million Filipinos in 1960, the population of the country reached over 76 million in the year 2000 and over 92 million in 2010. The executive and the legislative, thus, felt that the measures were still not adequate. To rein in the problem, the RH Law was enacted.”

Wisely, the Supreme Court saw through the deception propagated by RH Law’s supporters: “Despite efforts to push the RH Law as a reproductive health law, the Court sees it as principally a population control measure. The corpus of the RH Law is geared towards the reduction of the country’s population.”

Unfortunately, all that did not prevent the Court from making the inexplicable mistake of ruling in favor of the RH Law. Nevertheless, it did make this quite prescient remark: “At any rate, population control may not be beneficial for the country in the long run. The European and Asian countries, which embarked on such a program generations ago, are now burdened with aging populations.”

Let’s hope the Administration will be wise enough to get rid of the RH Law before it causes more damage at taxpayers expense.

This piece was originally published in Atty. Gatdula’s column, “Being Right,” in BusinessWorld on 10 March 2026. The views expressed here are the author’s and do not necessarily reflect those of the Publication and the University.