As a former mayor of San Fernando for nine years and a congressman of the 3rd District for more than a decade, I have experienced both the thrill of victory and the humility of electoral defeat. From this long view of public life, I offer a perspective on the ongoing public discourse surrounding the recent local elections in our city, particularly the claim that the 12-0 outcome in favor of Mayor Vilma Caluag’s ticket was “statistically improbable.”
At first glance, the numbers can be compelling. With 21 candidates vying for 10 seats in the city council, a purely mathematical analysis assuming equal chance for each candidate suggests that the likelihood of any single slate sweeping all ten positions is only 1 in 352,716. Add the mayor and vice mayor positions, and that probability narrows even further to 1 in 1,352,078—a mere 0.000074%.
These numbers validate claims of improbability. But only if we accept the premise that elections are purely random. They are not.
Elections are not conducted in laboratories. They unfold in communities, where people talk, judge, remember, and decide based on lived experience. In that real world, all things are not equal. And that changes everything.
Some factors render the “improbable” not just possible, but perhaps even inevitable under certain circumstances.
First, the popularity of Mayor Vilma Caluag and Vice Mayor Brenz Gonzales cannot be discounted. Their consistent presence in the public sphere and the messaging of unity and continuity likely resonated with a significant portion of the electorate.
Second, a powerful narrative emerged during the campaign—that no matter how pleasant, gracious, or capable Mylyn Pineda may be, she is not from San Fernando. This sentiment, whether fair or not, carried weight.
For many Fernandinos, the idea that someone from outside the city—someone seen as a political “foreigner”—could step in and attempt to govern the capital city struck a nerve. The “Laban San Fernando” team effectively tapped into this deep local pride, framing the election as a choice between self-determination and external influence. That message resonated, especially among voters who wanted to reclaim the city as their own.
Third, voter turnout patterns mattered. Reports suggest that Class ABC voters turned out in strong numbers, and they overwhelmingly supported the Caluag ticket. In local politics, where margins are often shaped by motivated sectors, this turnout was consequential.
Fourth, the campaign strategy of the Caluag camp was not only effective—it was disciplined. Candidates were grouped and clustered, and stronger names were mobilized to lift lesser-known allies. This is textbook political organizing at the grassroots level.
Fifth, some councilor candidates aligned with Mylyn Pineda reportedly engaged in negative campaigning against Vilma, which may have backfired.
And finally, internal competition within the opposition likely led to vote dilution. In contrast to the unified messaging of the Caluag ticket, the votes of Mylyn’s candidates appear to have been split among themselves, diminishing the overall performance of even their strongest names.
Taken together, these realities point not to electoral irregularity but to political coherence. The so-called statistical improbability collapses when weighed against voter behavior, message discipline, strategic campaigning, and a shifting political culture.
To those who express doubt, I offer this: Skepticism is healthy in a democracy. But let it be informed skepticism, grounded in data, context, and an understanding of how voters actually behave.
To those who triumphed, I offer my congratulations—but also this reminder: the 12-0 outcome is not a reward, but a responsibility. Governance is now your burden to carry, with the eyes of the entire city upon you.
Let us not diminish the voice of the people by calling it improbable. Sometimes, the vote speaks not in fractions or probabilities, but in one voice—clear, strong, and united.
