When will it stop? The illusion of anti-corruption

Government’s recent measures to crack down on corruption—the mandatory lifestyle checks for all officials and the call for public access to their Statements of Assets, Liabilities and Net Worth (SALNs)—are steps that, while commendable in theory, reek of superficiality in practice. They are being touted as tools of transparency and accountability. Yet, without the proper manpower, will, and systems to follow through, these become hollow gestures—mere window dressing on a crumbling foundation.

The Commission on Audit (COA), tasked with scrutinizing government spending, is overstretched and under-resourced. Its inability to effectively carry out lifestyle checks or verify SALNs due to lack of personnel has resulted in the failure to detect ghost and substandard flood control projects. These are not just isolated failures; they are glaring symptoms of a governance system that has long struggled with deep-rooted corruption.

Recent revelations from various government agencies only add to the damning picture. The Department of Agriculture exposed questionable farm-to-market roads—projects that exist more on paper than on land. The National Irrigation Administration, for its part, revealed non-existent irrigation systems, allegedly completed and paid for. These fraudulent infrastructure projects, intended to uplift rural communities, instead serve as lucrative conduits for public officials and contractors to siphon off taxpayer money.

The creation of the Independent Commission on Infrastructure (ICI) was supposed to be a game-changer—an impartial body designed to cut through bureaucratic red tape and investigate anomalies. But even if the ICI manages to wade through mountains of documents and testimonies, its scope is limited. Who, then, will take on the well-entrenched corruption in agencies like the Bureau of Internal Revenue (BIR) and the Bureau of Customs?

The BIR has recently come under fire after reports that its Letters of Authority—supposedly tools for tax audits—are being used to harass and extort business owners. This coercive environment stifles entrepreneurship, discourages investment, and further entrenches a culture of fear and compliance—not to the law, but to corrupt officials.

Meanwhile, at the Bureau of Customs, corruption is almost taken as a given. Smuggling, under-the-table deals, and suspicious inspections remain rampant, despite publicized attempts at reform. Billions in government revenue are lost annually due to these malpractices—money that could have gone to healthcare, education, or disaster relief.

Infrastructure, which should symbolize progress and development, continues to suffer. Two critical bridges in northern Luzon collapsed, and the recent earthquakes in Mindanao and the Visayas have exposed the fragility of public works. The Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH) is now on the hunt for rehabilitation funds—yet, given the track record, these funds risk being plundered by implementers before any real rebuilding begins.

The international community has taken notice. Corruption erodes public trust and discourages foreign aid and investment. Our country’s potential is weighed down not by a lack of talent or resources, but by systemic corruption that infects every level of government.

These so-called anti-corruption measures, like lifestyle checks and SALN transparency, are not inherently flawed. But when implemented without integrity, adequate staffing, or the political will to punish the guilty, they become nothing more than a performance.

So, the question remains: when will it stop? The answer, it seems, lies not in another commission, another policy, or another televised pledge. It lies in real consequences, real transparency, and the collective demand of a public tired of empty promises. Until then, the charade continues—while the country pays the price.