Edwin Lacierda

SUNTAY: WRONG PLACE. WRONG WORDS. In democratic institutions, words are never casual instruments. They carry weight, shape norms and signal the character of the institutions in which they are spoken. When a legislator rises during a congressional hearing, he does not speak merely as a private citizen; he speaks as a steward of the public trust. That distinction matters. It is why the recent remarks of Cong. Bong Suntay during a House committee hearing deserve reflection. The controversy arose when Suntay attempted to illustrate a legal point through an analogy involving actress Anne Curtis. The analogy was meant to support an argument connected to statements attributed to Sara Duterte, namely, that a person should not be judged for imagined scenarios or thoughts that are never acted upon. In essence, Suntay invoked a familiar principle of criminal law: liability generally requires not only intent but also a concrete act. As a legal proposition, the point has doctrinal grounding. Criminal law traditionally requires both a guilty mind and a guilty act before liability attaches. However troubling, thoughts alone are not ordinarily punishable unless accompanied by an overt step toward execution. In that narrow sense, Suntay was attempting to draw a distinction between imagination and action. The difficulty lies in the context in which the analogy was made. The proceedings were not a criminal trial but a congressional inquiry concerning the conduct of a public official. Such inquiries operate under a broader standard. The question is not merely whether a crime has been committed but whether a public official’s conduct reflects the judgment and restraint expected of high office. The Constitution itself reflects this broader lens through the concept of “betrayal of public trust.” Unlike strictly defined criminal offenses, this ground deliberately encompasses behavior that undermines confidence in public institutions. The standard for public office therefore extends beyond legality. It includes prudence, responsibility, and an awareness that words spoken by those in power carry consequences. It is here that Suntay’s analogy faltered. Even if the legal distinction between thought and action were correct in theory, the example chosen to illustrate it was rhetorically careless. Invoking a personal anecdote about attraction toward a celebrity during a formal legislative hearing does not illuminate a constitutional question. Instead, it trivializes the discussion and distracts from the seriousness of the matter under consideration. Equally important is the broader message such language sends. Public institutions operate within a society that continues to grapple with issues of dignity and respect for women. When a legislator frames a woman who was not even present in the proceedings as the subject of a personal fantasy, it inevitably jars against those sensibilities. The problem is not simply awkward phrasing. It reflects a casualness of language that risks reducing women to objects of commentary rather than recognizing them as individuals deserving the same respect expected within the halls of government. Congress should model a higher standard of discourse. Words spoken there carry symbolic weight beyond the chamber. The authority to speak in that forum therefore carries a responsibility: to elevate public debate, not diminish it. When language falls short of that standard, it does not merely weaken an argument. It diminishes the dignity of the institution itself.

I wrote this article as part of my contribution to Philstar’s Doreen Yu’s Opinion column today entitled: Three Voices - EDSA AT 40: AN UNFINISHED JOURNEY Forty years is long enough for emotion to soften and memory to settle. What remains of EDSA is no longer the noise of those days but the meaning of what was reclaimed. In 1986, power changed hands without civil war. A people long accustomed to fear chose instead to restore constitutional rule. That moral reset still matters. EDSA did not promise perfection. It promised restoration. It reopened elections, revived a free press and reaffirmed that sovereignty resides in the people. For a nation wary of institutions, it was a reminder that laws and limits still counted. Revolutions remove rulers; institutions take generations to build. That distinction is crucial. The weaknesses that persisted after 1986 : dynastic politics, patronage networks, corruption that adapted rather than disappeared were not proof that EDSA failed. They showed that structural reform demands patience, discipline and sustained political will. Forty years later, the assessment is mixed. We have seen peaceful transfers of power. We have watched courts assert themselves and citizens mobilize. Yet we have also witnessed institutional fatigue and the erosion that comes when vigilance wanes. Democracy, it turns out, is not self-executing. That is why EDSA remains relevant, not as nostalgia but as standard. Memory can inspire but it cannot substitute for work. Nostalgia is not a strategy. Neither is democracy a mere anniversary. Commemoration alone does not strengthen institutions. Civic virtue and civic discipline do. EDSA was not the culmination of democratic life; it was the reopening of it. The journey did not end on that highway in 1986. It merely began anew. At 40, the question is no longer whether it was worth it. The more searching question is whether we have sustained what it made possible and whether we are prepared, again and again, to finish what we started.

Calling someone “not winnable” based on early surveys is lazy analysis. Polls measure a moment, not momentum. And with two years before the election, a lot can change. If we reduce democracy to early spreadsheets, we mistake familiarity for inevitability and caution for wisdom. Elections are shaped by persuasion, organization and resolve and definitely not by surrendering to a snapshot.

THE FALLACY OF WINNABILITY The Comfort of Early Certainty In every presidential cycle, long before campaigns formally begin, one word begins to dominate the conversation: winnability. It is invoked in donor meetings, debated in surveys and amplified on television panels. The argument sounds pragmatic: support the one who can win. But two years before a presidential election, “winnability” is often less an empirical conclusion and more a projection built on incomplete data. Early surveys do not measure victory. They measure recognition. They reflect who voters have heard of, who recently ran, who holds office or who dominates media cycles. Recognition, however, is not durability and visibility is not inevitability. When Early Frontrunners Fall Philippine electoral history offers reminders. In the run-up to 2016, Jejomar Binay led national surveys for a sustained period. As sitting Vice President, he had machinery and early momentum and many described him as the “winnable” candidate. Yet as scrutiny intensified and campaign narratives shifted, his support eroded. He finished fourth. During the 2010 cycle, Manny Villar also posted strong early numbers. He had resources, advertising dominance and a compelling personal narrative. For a time, he appeared formidable. But campaigns test endurance. Voter consolidation moved elsewhere. He finished third. Early dominance did not translate into victory. When “Unwinnable” Candidates Win The fallacy cuts both ways. History also shows that candidates once dismissed as “not winnable” eventually prevailed. In 2016, Rodrigo Duterte was not the early national frontrunner. He entered late, began with modest numbers, and was widely viewed by much of the establishment as a regional figure with limited national path. Yet as the political climate shifted and his message consolidated a particular coalition, he surged and won decisively. In 2010, Benigno Aquino III was not even considered a presidential contender until circumstances reshaped the race. What followed was rapid consolidation that redefined the field. Early viability assessments missed the dynamic nature of voter realignment. Time Changes Everything Two years is a political lifetime. Economies shift. Alliances fracture. Issues reorder priorities. Candidates who appear strong today have not yet endured sustained scrutiny, negative campaigning, or narrative fatigue. Early polling captures exposure without examination. What looks inevitable today may prove fragile tomorrow. The Digital Illusion In today’s environment, digital strength is also part of the equation but it is frequently overstated. Large followings do not automatically translate into votes. Viral moments do not guarantee turnout. Social media matters only when it expands reach beyond one’s base, converts engagement into persuasion and integrates with ground organization. It is a force multiplier, not a substitute for coalition-building. Noise is not structure. What Real Winnability Looks Like True winnability rests on growth capacity. It depends on coalition expansion, organizational depth, fundraising sustainability, message discipline and resilience under pressure. The key question is not who leads today, but who has room to grow and the infrastructure to endure. Therefore, when you hear in conversations or television discussions that a certain candidate is “not winnable,” take it with a grain of salt and ask instead: not winnable now or not capable of growth? Early judgments often say more about present visibility than future viability. The Bottom Line Two years before an election, winnability is not a verdict. It is a hypothesis. And hypotheses are tested by time. Recognition is not inevitability.�Visibility is not victory. Early polling is not destiny. The real measure of winnability is not where a candidate stands today but whether they can still stand when the campaign truly begins.

Join us at 8 pm tonight at The Insiders Podcast! We will be having Akbayan Partylist Representative Chel Diokno to discuss the dizzying events that happened in the past few days! youtube.com/live/7SMcs3Uxh…

Give February 25, EDSA Revolution Day, Its Holiday Back (Dont’t Worry. The Republic Can Handle It.) February 25 marks the peaceful end of a dictatorship and the restoration of constitutional rule. That alone should qualify it for one day off. Instead, it was downgraded under the current president whose father, Ferdinand Marcos, happened to be the one we removed in 1986. History has a sense of irony. But irony is not policy. Here is the simple point: We managed a regime change without civil war. No state collapse. No devastated capital. Just citizens, institutions and a reset button pressed by the people, firmly but peacefully. That is not a minor footnote. That is a civic achievement. Other countries shut down for independence days, revolutions or founding myths involving tea, bread, or fireworks. Ours involved people standing in the streets and insisting the dictatorship has got to go. Surely that’s worth one non-working day. The economy will survive. Traffic will pause. The Republic will not crumble. Our GDP will not wobble. What a holiday does is create space: for schools to teach it, for families to discuss it, for the country to remember that power ultimately flows upward from citizens. Especially in these times when corruption has mutated far more than we could imagine. Restoring February 25 is not about reopening old wounds. It is about keeping the institutional memory intact. Nations forget at their own risk. A confident democracy can afford one day of remembrance. And frankly, if we can calendar sales, we can calendar sovereignty. And it shouldn’t come at a discount.

He faced a giant beyond our shores and chose law over bravado. Outmatched in arms, he stood his ground with principle. He brought a great power before the judgment of nations and let the world decide. When the ruling came, it affirmed not might, but right and proved that even the small, when steadfast, need not bow.

Happy Birthday, Mr. President. Under the present circumstances, your absence has become more pronounced. ONE SOLITARY PUBLIC SERVAT He was born into a dynasty, but he never treated power as inheritance. He studied, served, waited and when history called, he did not pretend to be extraordinary. He held no dictatorship in his hands, no cult of personality at his back. He commanded no armies loyal to him, owned no business empire, and built no monuments to himself. He governed with no theatrics. He spoke plainly, often in Filipino, often without flourish, but always with a stubborn belief that rules mattered and institutions were worth defending. He inherited a government accustomed to shortcuts but he insisted on process. He faced crises that demanded rage and responded with restraint. When decisions went against him, he respected them even when they constrained him. He did not enrich himself in office. He broke rice bowls that enriched the few. He used resources of the state to lift the poorest from poverty. He did not weaponize government for personal vengeance. He trusted that transparency, though slow, would outlast noise. He respected accountability, even when charges were filed against him and only later dismissed. He faced a giant beyond our shores and chose law over bravado. Outmatched in arms, he stood his ground with principle. He brought a great power before the judgment of nations and let the world decide. When the ruling came, it affirmed not might, but right and proved that even the small, when steadfast, need not bow. Under his stewardship, the economy grew. The international financial community granted the country investment-grade ratings we had never known before. We held our heads high abroad, and nations around the world respected and envied our standing. He left office with no fortune, no dynasty expanded, no loyal machinery demanding his return. He went back to private life as quietly as he entered public service. He died without calling himself a hero. Nearly every reformist ideal we now invoke: clean governance, independent institutions, respect for the rule of law passes, in some way, through the choices he made when he had the power to choose otherwise. And though he governed for only six years without spectacle or myth, the question he left behind continues to trouble the nation: If leadership can be decent, if power can be restrained, if public office can be treated as a trust THEN why do we keep settling for less?

@FACTmebaby @BembangBiik Thank you. Those Jokes were from a time gone by and i am a bad teller of jokes. I laugh ahead of the punch line 🤣🤣🤣

@dawende @BembangBiik Loyal audience here! Love the daddy jokes too haha

i started to binge watch #TheInsidersPod with Atty Barry Gutierrez and Atty Edwin Lacierda. Nakakaaliw and very insightful. Done with the episodes featuring Ronald Llamas, Sen Trillanes and Sen Risa. Very engaging and may bonus pang anecdotes during their time in the govt.

@gerryduran01 @BembangBiik Barry is trying to find a common schedule and it is in the works/

@dawende @BembangBiik Hi Sir. When will you have Prof. Cielo Magno as your guest? I hope this happens soon. Thanks.

It’s telling that VP Sara chose to single out Senator @risahontiveros over an impeachment complaint filed by Akbayan. The 2028 elections may be years away but serious politicians do not fight ghosts. They fight emerging threats. By elevating Risa as her targe despite current survey gaps, Sara is signaling who she believes can consolidate reformist voters, moral authority and momentum. In politics, who you attack often matters more than what you say. And Sara just told us something important.

Hello @everyone! Watch The Insiders Podcast tonight at 8 pm as we discuss the row between the Philippines & China as well as the happenings in the Legislative Branch! Ae you and please like and subscribe! youtube.com/live/qlKPhs4f8…

Eh ano ngayon? Totoo naman!

Had a nice conversation with @ConstantKC on her podcast. Enjoyed the discussion with her and @barrygutierrez3 on the events of 2025. Karmina was actually the first who got me to what woud eventually be regular appearances on ANC as a political & legal analyst. In short, sya nag discover sa akin :) Watch this episode on @_KCAfterHours. Below is the link3 EPISODE 67: Kwentuhang Bayan with Barry Gutierrez and Edwin Lacierda youtu.be/JeI7LOCk63k?si… via @YouTube

There is nothing surprising about the latest SWS survey. Vice Presidents almost always rate higher than Presidents. The reason is structural, the buck stops with the President while the VP is largely insulated from the daily controversies and inevitable failures of governance. That reality should serve as a warning to Malacañang. Overpromising and underdelivering has steadily eroded public trust. Expectations are raised, then missed again and again. Governing better, not selling better, must be the priority. There are still miles to go before BBM sleeps. For the VP, a high approval rating is neither an inevitability nor destiny to be President. VP Jojo Binay once led surveys consistently and still finished fourth in 2016. As 2028 approaches, goodwill and motherhood statements will not suffice. She must clearly lay out a clear vision of government and confront unresolved corruption issues that continue to confound her.

@mlq3 @barrygutierrez3 Thanks Manolo for the incisive analysis. Missed the days when we do it on a very regular basis!

Had a great time talking to .@dawende and .@barrygutierrez3 on The Insiders on political prospects for 2026. youtube.com/watch?v=q9bGRx…