The Society of Honor by Joe America

Breaking a family monopoly is not the same as fixing politics

By Karl M. Garcia

There is a tempting assumption behind the debate over an anti-political dynasty law:

Pass the law, remove the dynasties, and Philippine politics will become healthier.

It is understandable.

It is also incomplete.

An anti-dynasty law could change something important: who is legally allowed to compete for elected office at the same time or in succession within a defined family relationship.

But it cannot, by itself, change human nature.

Absolute power will still be dangerous.

Greed will still exist.

Patronage will still exist.

People will still look the other way when it benefits them.

Money will still influence elections.

Businesses will still seek access to government.

Political operators will still find ways around restrictions.

And voters will still sometimes choose familiar names because familiarity, personal relationships, family networks and perceived ability to deliver local benefits matter.

So the real question is not whether an anti-dynasty law will magically clean up Philippine politics.

It will not.

The better question is:

What problem would it actually solve—and what problems would remain?

THE PROBLEM IS CONCENTRATED POWER

The 1987 Constitution already says that the State shall guarantee equal access to opportunities for public service and prohibit political dynasties “as may be defined by law.”

Almost four decades later, Congress has still not completed that constitutional mandate. Recent policy research continues to document the persistence of dynastic politics. A 2026 Congressional Policy and Budget Research Department study estimated that 54.5 percent of elected officials who succeeded in the 2025 midterm elections had potential dynastic links, while noting that the relationship between dynasties and poverty remains empirically mixed.

That distinction matters.

The argument for regulating dynasties does not have to be that every member of a political family is corrupt or incompetent.

That would be both unfair and impossible to prove.

The institutional concern is different:

What happens when political competition becomes structurally concentrated within a small number of families?

A family that controls the mayoralty, congressional seat, governorship and other elected positions simultaneously possesses more than a recognizable surname.

It can accumulate networks.

It can accumulate campaign machinery.

It can develop relationships with businesses and local organizations.

It can influence appointments and public resources.

It can build name recognition over several election cycles.

And it can make political competition progressively more difficult for outsiders.

Research has associated dynastic concentration with reduced political competition and, in some studies, poorer socioeconomic outcomes. But the evidence is not uniform enough to claim that eliminating dynasties automatically eliminates poverty or corruption. A 2024 Congressional Policy and Budget Research Department review explicitly describes the development effects of dynasties as nuanced and the evidence as mixed.

That is precisely why the reform should be understood as institutional, not moral.

WHAT ANTI-DYNASTY LAW CAN CHANGE

A properly designed law could change the structure of political entry.

It could prevent a situation in which several closely related individuals simultaneously occupy multiple elected positions, depending on the definition eventually adopted by Congress.

It could create more opportunities for people outside established political families.

It could force political organizations to recruit candidates beyond the traditional family networks.

It could make succession more difficult.

And over time, it could weaken the assumption that a particular elected position naturally belongs to a particular family.

That is not nothing.

PIDS researchers have previously argued that anti-dynasty legislation would not completely eliminate political dynasties or level the political playing field, but could begin broader reforms by widening access to political participation.

The key word is begin.

An anti-dynasty law is potentially a door-opening mechanism.

It is not a complete political system.

BUT POWER WILL FIND NEW FORMS

This is where the debate needs to become more realistic.

Suppose a law prevents a governor from being succeeded immediately by a spouse or child.

The family may support another candidate.

Suppose relatives cannot simultaneously hold several elected positions.

The family’s business allies, political associates or longtime protégés may remain active.

Suppose a particular surname becomes legally restricted from occupying certain positions.

The political machinery surrounding that surname does not automatically disappear.

The campaign organization remains.

The donor network remains.

The local relationships remain.

The economic interests remain.

The accumulated name recognition remains.

In other words:

You can prohibit a family configuration without necessarily eliminating the underlying concentration of influence.

The 2026 CPBRD analysis makes essentially this point: banning dynasties may reshape the political landscape but does not necessarily dismantle political dominance, because political actors can adapt.

This is perhaps the most important lesson.

Political reform changes incentives. Political actors respond to incentives.

That means an anti-dynasty law must anticipate adaptation.

Otherwise, the country could move from political dynasties to something that looks different on paper but behaves similarly in practice.

THE FAMILY IS NOT THE ONLY PROBLEM

There is also a danger in making the dynasty the entire explanation for Philippine political dysfunction.

Consider what happens when the family disappears but the following remain:

Weak political parties.

Expensive campaigns.

Vote buying.

Patronage.

Weak campaign-finance transparency.

Limited voter information.

Poor enforcement of conflict-of-interest rules.

Weak local checks and balances.

Political appointments based on loyalty.

Business-government relationships that lack sufficient transparency.

A bureaucracy vulnerable to political pressure.

A judiciary and accountability system that can take years to resolve important cases.

An electorate that may depend on politicians for access to government services.

None of these problems is automatically solved by an anti-dynasty law.

The family may disappear from the ballot.

The incentive structure may remain.

That is why the anti-dynasty debate should be connected to electoral reform, political-party development, transparency, campaign finance, civil-service professionalism and stronger local accountability.

A 2026 CPBRD paper on implementing anti-dynasty legislation similarly identifies administrative, legal and election-related difficulties, including questions over how dynastic relationships would be defined and how quickly disqualification disputes could be resolved.

The details matter enormously.

ABSOLUTE POWER IS STILL ABSOLUTE POWER

There is another uncomfortable truth.

A politician who is not a dynast can become just as abusive as a dynast.

A political newcomer can become corrupt.

A reform candidate can develop a political machine.

A supposedly independent politician can build his own network of loyalists.

A political party can become a vehicle for personal ambition.

A businessman can become a politician.

A politician can become a businessman.

The problem is therefore not simply which family occupies power.

It is how much power any individual or network can accumulate without effective checks.

This is why the old warning about absolute power remains relevant.

If an anti-dynasty law simply replaces hereditary concentration with another form of concentrated power, the country has changed the occupants without sufficiently changing the system.

The objective should therefore not be to make politicians morally better.

Government cannot legislate virtue.

It can, however, make abuse harder.

GREED CANNOT BE LEGISLATED AWAY

The same applies to greed.

An anti-dynasty law cannot make people less greedy.

It cannot eliminate conflicts of interest.

It cannot prevent someone from seeking wealth through public office.

What government can do is create systems in which greed becomes harder to convert into public power and public money.

That means:

Transparent procurement.

Open government data.

Auditable transactions.

Competitive bidding.

Conflict-of-interest rules.

Asset-disclosure systems that actually work.

Independent oversight.

Professional civil servants.

Effective prosecutors.

Reasonably fast administrative and judicial processes.

Whistleblower protection.

Transparent campaign financing.

And consequences that arrive before the next election rather than years afterward.

Good institutions do not depend on everyone being good.

They are designed on the assumption that people have incentives, ambitions and weaknesses.

That is the deeper lesson of institutional reform.

AND PEOPLE WILL STILL LOOK THE OTHER WAY

This may be the hardest problem of all.

A politician does not remain powerful simply because the politician is powerful.

Political power is sustained by networks of people.

Some benefit directly.

Some receive jobs.

Some receive contracts.

Some receive assistance.

Some receive access.

Some are related.

Some are loyal.

Some are afraid.

Some simply believe that the politician delivers.

Others may know that something is wrong but decide that opposing the local power structure is not worth the personal cost.

An anti-dynasty law does not automatically change any of that.

But stronger institutions can gradually change the incentives.

If public services become predictable, citizens become less dependent on individual politicians.

If government transactions become transparent, political intermediaries become less important.

If employment is based on qualifications rather than political loyalty, patronage loses value.

If political parties develop genuine platforms and organizations, candidates become less dependent on surnames.

If citizens can obtain government services without knowing a politician personally, the political value of personal favors declines.

This is where anti-dynasty legislation becomes part of a much larger project.

THE REAL TEST: CAN POLITICS BECOME MORE OPEN?

The measure of success should therefore not be:

“Did we eliminate political families?”

That is too narrow.

A better set of questions would be:

Are more qualified citizens able to run for office?

Are elections more competitive?

Are political parties becoming stronger?

Are campaign costs becoming more transparent?

Are voters less dependent on political patrons?

Are government services less dependent on personal connections?

Are elected officials subject to meaningful checks?

Can businesses compete for government contracts without political connections?

Can civil servants perform their jobs without fear of political retaliation?

Can citizens challenge government decisions without risking access to basic services?

Can a politician leave office without the entire machinery of government collapsing around that person’s network?

These are much harder questions.

They are also more important.

ANTI-DYNASTY LAW SHOULD BE A STARTING POINT

There is a legitimate case for implementing the constitutional prohibition on political dynasties.

But it should be sold neither as a miracle cure nor as a moral cleansing of Philippine politics.

It is an institutional intervention.

Its purpose is to widen political access and reduce one form of concentrated political power.

Its limitations should be understood from the beginning.

A law can prevent certain relatives from occupying certain offices.

It cannot prevent another network from acquiring power.

It can make succession harder.

It cannot eliminate patronage.

It can open political space.

It cannot guarantee that better candidates will occupy that space.

It can weaken one mechanism of political concentration.

It cannot remove the human desire for money, influence and power.

That is why an anti-dynasty law should be accompanied by reforms that address the ecosystem around political power.

Political parties need strengthening.

Campaign finance needs greater transparency.

Government procurement needs stronger safeguards.

The civil service needs protection from political interference.

Local accountability needs strengthening.

Citizens need better information.

Public services need to become less dependent on political patrons.

And perhaps most importantly, institutions need to become stronger than personalities.

FROM FAMILY POWER TO INSTITUTIONAL POWER

The ultimate objective should not be to find a generation of politicians who are unusually virtuous.

That is not a sustainable national strategy.

The objective should be to build a political system in which even an ambitious, wealthy, connected or imperfect politician faces meaningful constraints.

That is what institutions are for.

The Philippines does not need a politics that assumes everyone in government will behave badly.

Nor can it afford one that assumes everyone will behave well.

It needs institutions designed for the real world.

An anti-dynasty law can help by opening the door.

But what happens after that door opens will depend on everything else behind it.

Because if we remove the dynasty but leave the incentives untouched, power will simply reorganize itself.

And if we want Philippine democracy to become more competitive, accountable and resilient, the deeper task is not merely to prevent one family from holding power.

It is to make sure that no family, faction, party, business network or individual becomes so powerful that the institutions of the Republic must bend around them.

That is a much bigger project.

And an anti-dynasty law should be understood as one piece of that project—not the project itself.