How Manila-centric, elite kickbacks-driven development keeps the Philippines trapped

Manila: The Philippines’ dominant development model — over-centralised, elite-driven, and clientelist — often runs headlong into the country’s deep historical, geographical and cultural realities.

Rather than aligning economic growth with broad-based institutional reform, this model reinforces old patterns of kinship politics, patronage, and selective enforcement.

All these conspire to undermine development, one that's more inclusive, as per the Journal of Government and Economics (ScienceDirect, 2022).

Three interlocking dynamics explain why:

First, political “tribalism” or clan-based politics remains central to electoral competition.

Families and local powerbrokers convert social ties into votes, monopolising local revenue streams, ringfencing public works contracts where kickbacks are the norm.

As a rule, political dynasties are associated with worse development outcomes in many provinces, especially in southern Luzon and outside Luzon, where elite capture impedes business competition and public investment, as per Asia Society.

It's easy to see this, just drive down from the Manila, to check road conditions in the provinces of Quezon, Camarines Sur, Albay, Samar, Leyte. Virtually the rest of the country suffers from sub-par roads (with very few exceptions).

Research shows that the persistence of these contractor-dynasties means that development decisions tend to reflect family interests rather than long-term, whole-of-nation planning.

Second, institutional features meant to broaden representation have been co-opted.

The party-list system — created to give marginalised sectors a voice — has been repeatedly hijacked by political operators, business interests and even fraternities who use party-list slots to expand patronage networks rather than advocate for the vulnerable.

At the same time, the Philippines’ unitary presidential system over-concentrates budgetary and political authority in Manila and at the national executive level.

This poses a challenge: The Philippines, while small compared to the mighty Pacific, is actually a vast archipelago, and a highly mineralised one.

The country seems mired in "smallism" mindset. Yet across the vast archipelago, there's evidence the nation sits on a literal pot of gold, and minerals the industrial world needs.

Manila, for all its power under the 1987 Constitution, can't keep an eye out on every development project everywhere in this nation of about 120 million.

Just the mainland of Mindanao, the country's bread basket (land area: 104,000 km2) has a land area nearly the size of Switzerland, Belgium and the Netherlands put together.

Yet in the 2026 budget, funding allocation earmarked for Mindanao agriculture is a pittance vs the budget earmarked for the National Capital Region (where malls and urbanisation have overtaken farms).

A weak party system magnifies this effect. Result: local bosses remain the primary link between citizens and the state, perpetuating uneven service delivery (especially with the healthcare system tied to patronage-driven MAIFIP, aka "health pork").

Chronic neglect of many provinces, public works kickbacks, sub-par infrastructure, and vote-buying/selling form a vicious cycle.

Third, a culture of personalised politics and social forgiveness blunts accountability. Singapore's founding father Lee Kuan Yew, in his biography, had cited Filipino culture as a "soft" one.

It places high value on interpersonal loyalty, family solidarity, and reconciliation. While those norms can be constructive socially, it's problematic when they supplant institutional accountability.

Here's a wild one: one of the biggest, most enduring cultural relics here is "sabong" (cockfighting), a Php50-billion religion (that's pre-online sabong explosion).

Trivia: In the local sabong culture, the central bet-taker/bookie who stands with outstretched arms, is called the "Kristo" (Christ).

His job: collect bets and act as a trusted mediator between bettors and cockfight organisers. This require incredible memory and math skills.

These dynamics intersect with a judiciary and enforcement apparatus that sometimes produces landmark rulings but fails at implementation.

High-profile examples include prosecutions and asset cases against members of ruling families where court orders are stalled, deferred, or only partially enforced.

This undermines public faith in the rule of law and signals that elite transgressions carry limited consequences.

The deferred arrest and repeated legal manoeuvres surrounding the case of Imelda Marcos, for example, illustrate how convictions or legal actions do not always translate into effective enforcement.

This reinforces perceptions of impunity. Elite political families take turns. Result: large-scale corruption, and targetted killings, especially those pulled off by ruling families, go unpunished.

Due to the above reasons, Philippines is locked in a development trap.

Central policy initiatives are filtered through local power structures that prioritise patronage.

Legal reforms are weakened by co-optation.

Judicial victories do not automatically produce accountability.

Shockingly, no amount of flooding or natural disaster seems to awaken its people from their deep slumber.

Every election, marked by widespread vote-buying, only reinforces more of the same.

People, especially in the provinces, actually expect to get paid for their votes.

Breaking the cycle requires institutional redesign (i.e. stronger party systems and more fiscal decentralisation), genuine reform of representation mechanisms like the Party-list, and tweaks that make judicial outcomes enforceable, rather than symbolic.

Easier said than done.

While there's a widespread clamour for a federal-style system of governance to replace the current centralised, unitary and presidential form, nothing came out of it.

There's hope: The Moros finally have their own autonomous government, in what is sometimes called a "sub-state."

There are faint stirrings of change, thanks to tech and changing demographics.

Millennials and GenZ, the Tik-Tok generation, are keenly aware of what works elsewhere, and are growing in numbers. There are signs they are change voting culture and patterns.

Amid the flood of corruption scandal, there are growing calls for a "reset", especially from retired military officers.

This is problematic, and could potentially push back the nation's had-won democratic gains.

While Manila wrestles with its own daily soap opera — led by what is arguably the worst traffic on the planet — the rest of the country plays the role of long-suffering side character.

Provinces juggle rotating blackouts, chronic underinvestment in energy, electric cooperatives not known for efficiency, and electricity rates so high they feel personal.

Add to that elite capture of utilities (i.e. Prime Water) and the uniquely Filipino subplot of family-and-tribe-based “disappearances” of public funds, and you have a narrative that feels like a plan.

And yet — plot twist — Filipinos endure.

Resilience is not just a buzzword here; it’s a survival skill honed by practice. This is a country that absorbs typhoons like calendar events, lives with earthquakes as background noise, coexists with active volcanoes, and somehow treats corruption as a weather condition: inconvenient, expected, and rarely surprising.

Perhaps that’s why Filipinos tend to thrive best when exported.

Nearly 10 million live and work abroad, quietly excelling in hospitals, ships, homes, and offices around the world. It’s one of the country’s most open secrets: when removed from dysfunctional systems, Filipinos flourish.

The problem isn’t talent. It never was.

The real boss battle: culture.

Not culture in the food-and-fiesta or happiest-in-the-world Christmas sense — that part is world-class — but political culture.

Voter education remains thin and civic norms fragile.

The temptation to trade long-term public good for short-term patronage remains strong. Too often, elections are treated like family reunions, not job interviews.

Loyalty beats competence; surnames outperform resumes.

Until Filipinos collectively raise their standards — demanding service over favours, institutions over personalities, and accountability over forgiveness — the cycle will continue.

Miracles may happen, but development rarely does without homework.

A key redeeming grace for the Asian nation: the military.

As an institution, the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) have fought hard against decades of deadly communist rebellion, Moro separatism, numerous coups and, now, constant harassment and threats from a resurgent neighbour over disputed islets.

Amidst these challenges of culture and institutions, it makes one wonder: Can a durable, more equitable development can really happen here?

Still, if there’s one thing Filipinos are good at, it’s surviving the impossible.

The question is whether survival will finally give way to self-respecting governance — or whether the nation will keep ignoring, smiling through the pain and self-inflicted suffering, traffic and all.