BACK IN grade school, the return to classes after the holidays always came with a familiar ritual: a theme-writing exercise titled “My New Year’s Resolution.” We wrote earnestly about being kinder, studying harder, obeying our parents more faithfully. For a few weeks, at least, we tried. We behaved better, spoke softer, and walked carefully around our promises until real life slowly caught up with us.
Every January, Filipinos are told to do pretty much the same. Look forward. Hope. Pray. Be patient. This advice is recycled annually like fruitcake; it starts off as well-meaning, becomes stale, and then increasingly hard to swallow.
Meanwhile, if there is one tradition that remains stubbornly undefeated, it would be our erring lawmakers, tone-deaf officials, and government agencies that treat public office like a lifetime all-access pass to incompetence. Perhaps this year, instead of making resolutions for ourselves, we should make a list for them. Not the press-release kind of resolve, but the uncomfortable, soul-searching variety.
Resolution No. 1: Learn the difference between power and service.
Public office is not a family heirloom, nor a retirement plan, nor a shield against accountability. It is not a backstage pass to luxury SUVs, overseas junkets, or perpetual entitlement. The moment an official has to ask whether a decision benefits the people or their patrons, the resolution has already been broken.
Resolution No. 2: Read the room, and the law.
There is something almost admirable, in a tragic way, about officials who quote the Constitution as if it were a buffet. Human rights when convenient. Fiscal discipline when cameras are rolling. Transparency only when a scandal becomes too loud to ignore. A radical idea for 2026? Follow the law even when it is inconvenient, especially when it limits ambition.
Resolution No. 3: Stop confusing noise with leadership.
We are exhausted by officials who mistake volume for vision and viral sound bites for governance. Real leadership is often boring. It involves long meetings, quiet study, hard data, and decisions that never trend online. If an official’s loudest achievement is a headline rather than a measurable improvement in people’s lives, perhaps silence would be an upgrade.
Resolution No. 4: Never treat public funds as personal money.
Have you noticed how casually officials say, “This is taxpayers’ money,” moments before spending it like Monopoly cash? Imagine if every peso were treated as something earned by an overworked commuter, a minimum-wage earner, or an overseas Filipino far from home. Ghost projects might vanish. Substandard infrastructure might suddenly improve. As it turns out, accountability is very expensive only when conscience is missing.
Resolution No. 5: Learn to say, “I was wrong.”
In Philippine politics, apologies are rarer than smooth traffic. Mistakes are denied, buried, or blamed on subordinates. Yet accountability begins with humility. A genuine apology without any spin, excuses, or scapegoats might shock the nation; but it might even restore a sliver of trust.
As 2026 begins, Filipinos will once again resolve to be kinder, thriftier, and more hopeful. It is only fair that those in power do the same. Governance is not about surviving the next election cycle. It is about leaving the country better than you found it.
For our public officials, this is a resolution list worth keeping if anyone is even brave enough to try.
