‘Maybe, if we are lucky, perhaps the best and the brightest along the Pasig River will serve up next what people are really asking for: proof of actual work.’
WHEN I was a junior associate working in a law firm, the part of the job I disliked the most was filling out my daily time report. You see, since some clients were charged on a time billing arrangement and the lawyers working on these clients had to detail the amount of time spent doing a particular task related to the case or concern. At the end of a billing period, the accounting manager would collect all our DTRs and use these as the basis for computing the firm’s charges. Some of us dragged our feet when it came to accomplishing these, but I remember my former boss’ gentle reminder: “We must show our clients that we are diligently attending to their case, as a form of attendance, if you will. We build trust by showing them that our work is worth the expense.”
Most employees have experienced this proof of attendance or work in some shape or form — whether it’s punching the Bundy clock when you arrive or when you leave your workplace, or filing reports at the end of a set period. Putting in the time is a covenant between employees and employers; leaves are judiciously spent, while employers make sure that time off beyond agreed upon durations is warranted. In short, no one should be playing hooky at someone else’s expense.
The rules change, however, as you go up the power ladder when it comes to government service. While obviously sitting Presidents and other high-ranking officials of all three branches are not to be bothered by such routines, the understanding is these positions carry enormous responsibilities that the holders of the office (again, assumed to be responsible persons) would not even consider short-changing the people in terms of the work they do. When it comes to those in the Judiciary, there are time periods to be followed in terms of disposing of the cases pending in your court, under pain of disciplinary measure. While I am aware that both chambers of Congress take attendance for sessions, I am not entirely familiar if legislators have been sanctioned in case of excessive or unexplained absences.
In recent years, it seems the higher you go, the less you will have to answer what you do on the public’s time. We see this clearly in what has become a regular shtick for the current administration: President Rodrigo Duterte’s former aide-turned-senator has had to respond regularly to questions about the President’s whereabouts, as well as the state of his health.
Their “proof of life” exercise has become so regular that the public already anticipates a picture of the President to show that he is actually still among the capacitated and living.
You name it, they’ve done it: photos eating at home, sitting at a table with papers (the day’s newspaper is placed prominently, similar to proof of life shots favored by kidnappers) but the latest iteration is especially ludicrous — and very reminiscent of Marcosian propaganda tactics, as some observers have pointed out — with the 3-second jog and the golf swing. While to their minds it may serve the purpose of providing that the President is indeed up and about and just in the confines of the presidential compound, it has triggered a more critical reaction: apart from serving us once-a-week videotaped ramblings in addition to these photos, what else is the Chief Executive doing in the midst of the worsening pandemic? Is the President even remotely aware of the current situation we are all faced with? Maybe, if we are lucky, perhaps the best and the brightest along the Pasig River will serve up next what people are really asking for: proof of actual work.
