The Society of Honor by Joe America

By Karl Garcia

We boast that we are the world’s “fourth-largest shipbuilder,” a line lifted from an OECD report that counted repair yards and workforce size. But UNCTAD’s actual tonnage data tells a harsher truth: we produce barely 1% of global output, far behind China, Korea, and Japan. “Fourth” is not strength; it is statistical luck.

The Philippines wants two big maritime dreams at once: to revive shipbuilding and to become a competitive ship registry — a “flag of convenience.” Both are ambitious. Both depend on something we keep forgetting: talent and industrial depth.

And we lack the one ingredient every real shipbuilding nation has: a deep bench of naval architects, marine engineers, and systems specialists. Our best graduates leave for Japan, Korea, or Europe. Without design talent and integration capability, even the best shipyard incentives will not build a real industry. At best, we remain a repair nation; at worst, a labor exporter with big slogans.

The government’s instinctive solution is scholarships. But look at agriculture: scholarships were created, but graduates walked away — because the jobs were outdated, the pay was poor, and the industry was stuck. If we repeat this mistake in shipbuilding, we will simply train people for export.

A real maritime industrial policy must link scholarships to actual industry demand:
– guaranteed jobs in modernized, competitive shipyards,
– specialization tracks from design to green retrofits to recycling,
– service agreements with pay that can compete internationally,
– and an ecosystem where they can actually practice: R&D incentives, supplier networks, and a transparent regulatory regime.

This matters not just for shipbuilding — but also for our push to become a flag of convenience through the Ship Registry bill. We will never match Singapore’s tight governance, credibility, or brand — they are a small but gifted maritime nation with world-class institutions. But we can compete on tax incentives, tonnage fees, and speed of service, if we do it with discipline and clear-cut cost–benefit accounting. A registry is a business: the economics must work.

But here’s the catch: no serious shipowner registers under a flag that cannot manage its own maritime competencies. A weak talent pipeline, fragmented agencies, and inconsistent enforcement undermine both shipbuilding and any registry ambition.

If the Philippines wants to matter in the maritime world — as builder, recycler, or flag — we need more than slogans. We need the people who build ships, inspect ships, and regulate ships — and we need to keep them.

Because the truth is simple and unavoidable:
You cannot be a shipbuilding nation — or a flag of convenience — if you cannot keep the people who make ships possible.