Growth, stability vs. real problems

The House Justice Committee’s decision to dismiss the two impeachment complaints against President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. for “insufficiency in substance” was swift, procedural and entirely predictable. Almost as quickly, the Senate rushed to deny rumors of any impending leadership shakeup, eager to project stability. Yet this choreography of reassurance rings hollow. 

The next act is already queued: the impeachment complaint against Vice President Sara Duterte, soon to be reviewed by the Lower House. 

Together, the country’s top three officials now stand under a cloud of political controversy, no matter how insistently Malacañang insists otherwise.

Business leaders do not need a white paper to understand how political instability seeps into the economy. They feel it in delayed investments, cautious lenders, jittery markets, and consumer pessimism. The latest 2025 gross domestic product figures from the Philippine Statistics Authority should already be enough to set off alarms. Growth that lags behind targets, stubborn inflation pressures and weak demand are not abstract indicators; they are symptoms of a government struggling to inspire confidence.

Still, Malacañang’s messaging echoes a familiar refrain—eerily reminiscent of Donald Trump’s “best economy ever” rhetoric. We are, according to official spin, clearly on the road to progress. The numbers say otherwise. To insist on prosperity while households tighten belts and businesses delay expansion is to be detached from reality, if not openly dismissive of it.

To be fair, President Bongbong Marcos Jr.’s cabinet secretaries appear to be trying. Flood control and infrastructure projects are being revisited after years of inefficiency and corruption. Education officials grapple with the alarming reality of low comprehension levels among elementary students. Tourism authorities struggle to reverse declining arrivals. Energy officials attempt to cushion the impact of rising fuel prices. These are real problems, and some technocrats are making earnest efforts to address them.

But the government’s reflexive response remains depressingly familiar: cash dole-outs. Short-term subsidies may blunt immediate pain, but they do not fix broken systems. They do not reform procurement, modernize education, attract sustainable tourism, or secure energy independence. Worse, they reinforce a politics of dependency rather than accountability.

Meanwhile, life inside the bureaucracy quietly returns to “normal.” DPWH engineers and contractors resume business as usual. BIR auditors, Customs collectors, and LTO enforcers go back to their routines, with little fear that systemic reform will disrupt entrenched practices. The storm, it seems, has passed—not because problems were solved, but because attention has shifted.

This is the deeper danger. Political survival has once again taken precedence over economic reality. Impeachment threats are neutralized, leadership rumors denied, and the narrative of progress carefully maintained. Yet beneath the surface calm, the fundamentals remain weak.

A nation cannot spin its way to growth. Stability is not declared; it is earned. And no amount of reassurance from Malacañang can substitute for credible leadership, measurable reform, and an honest reckoning with the numbers that tell a far less comforting story.