I’VE always thought that there is something wrong with the way we officially name our laws and agencies of government.
We are, for example, so fond of the word “anti” that we have a bunch of laws and agencies whose names begin with “anti.”
The proliferation of the word indicates that we are more inclined to oppose so many things than to stand in favor of something. It’s a negative mindset. It is also a manifestation of another type of colonial mentality—the thinking imposed upon us by our colonizers that is anchored on bans and prohibitions—because that was their manner of controlling us.
So, until now, our government and governance are largely based on controlling people rather than empowering them and creating opportunities for growth and advancement. We make it harder for citizens to live their daily lives.
Societies operate on reward and punishment, where good acts and behavior are rewarded and the bad are punished. That’s why laws should first be constructive and rewarding before they are punitive.
But many of our laws that aim to address problems as they occur simply prohibit and punish.
This partly explains why many of our problems have remained unresolved for centuries.
Years ago, we encountered a problem with hospitals that detain patients who cannot pay their bills.
Congress’s solution was an “anti-hospital-detention law” or a law that punished hospitals and doctors for holding patients when they could not pay. If the problem was the inability to pay, does prohibiting patients from being detained by hospitals solve the problem?
Let’s take poverty. There is the National Anti-Poverty Commission or NAPC created under Republic Act 8425. Why couldn’t we call it the National Commission for Making Every Filipino Wealthy instead? Why think against poverty when you can think pro-wealth? Instead of worrying about poverty, why not think of how to create wealth?
Because of this mindset, our approach to solving poverty has been largely based on alleviation, assistance and amelioration (ayuda system) instead of wealth creation. You cannot cure poverty by alleviation; you can only eradicate it by wealth creation.
In 1960, Congress enacted the Anti-Graft and Corrupt Practices Act. And we have all sorts of anti-corruption bodies. Yet corruption has only gotten worse and worse over the years.
Would it have made a difference if we had enacted instead “Honesty in Government Act” and rewarded good and honest behavior instead of just punishing those who dip their hands into government coffers?
In light of the havoc wreaked by typhoon Kristine, there’s one law without the “anti” word that bears a close look: the “Philippine Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Act of 2010.”
Its long title is: “An act strengthening the Philippine disaster risk reduction and management system, providing for the national disaster risk reduction and management framework and institutionalizing the national disaster risk reduction and management plan, appropriating funds therefore and for other purposes.”
First, there are rules on English sentence construction that require the use of hyphens to identify compound nouns or adjectives so that the meaning is clear. The hyphen is important because it tells the reader what series of words are to be read as one.
Neither the short nor the long title has any hyphen. So, no reader knows that the short title should be read as Philippine disaster-risk-reduction-and-management Act—meaning it is an Act or law to reduce and manage the risk of disaster.
This law also created the National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Council and so many Local Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Councils. Again, without the use of any hyphen, the first thing that comes to mind when you read it is “national disaster” and “local disaster.”
But more important than semantics, my objection is to the use of the word “disaster.” It’s as if we are assuming already that a disaster is to happen when we shouldn’t be thinking such.
What we’re dealing with are situations or conditions of emergency that may or may not become a disaster. An incoming typhoon, for instance, does not necessarily spell disaster. But it brings about a state of emergency that if dealt with correctly can prevent a disaster.
So, it would have been more apt to call the law “Philippine Emergency Management Act” and the NDRRMC the Philippine Emergency Management Agency.
Some things we say or write become a self-fulfilling prophecy. And by thinking of disasters ahead instead of emergencies, aren’t we sort of “inviting disasters?”
And so, it has also been the policy to declare states of calamity to be able to use the so-called “disaster risk reduction and management funds”—after a calamity has struck—instead of declaring states of emergency and using emergency funds to prevent a calamity from happening.
Because of the way the law is constructed and the supposed management system is established, our approach has been focused more on building evacuation centers, enhancing early-warning systems, improving delivery of relief goods, and other ad hoc approaches.
Very little thought (if any) is devoted to coming up with strategies to address, for example, floods and landslides at their roots.
Until the next disaster hits us.
