In the winding highway of public service, two drivers have taken similar lanes. One, Jose P. De Jesus, clocked mileage under two Cabinet roles in past administrations. The other, Vince Dizon, is still holding the fort under the current president. This is an interesting tale of two Ds, zigzagging through the potholes of governance with grit.
Newly appointed Public Works Secretary Dizon, formerly the DOTr’s top technocrat, now finds himself steering the wheel of one of the most battered departments in the Marcos government. According to ex-Cabinet veteran De Jesus, Dizon possesses torque and power: political will, technical finesse, and the kind of drive that doesn’t falter under pressure.
De Jesus, who once wore both the DPWH and DOTr hats, says Dizon had to downshift from his transport role to take on a new presidential assignment—one that demands navigating through a swamp of corruption and flood-control scandals that have left communities submerged and budgets hemorrhaging.
Lessons from a road warrior
De Jesus laid out the road map with two major hazards: One, the budget bandits or dirty politicians who treat public works funds like a toll booth, demanding “cuts” before the concrete even dries. Two, project gridlock or managing construction timelines, shielding budgets from detours, and making sure infrastructure doesn’t become a monument to delay.
“When I was Public Works Secretary under President Cory Aquino,” De Jesus recalled, “we built critical infrastructure with her full backing. That support was my fuel.”
Now, he hopes Dizon gets the same presidential horsepower. Without it, even the best driver can skid off course—especially when the old habit of slicing up construction budgets still lurks in the rearview mirror.
So here’s to Dizon: May the road ahead be paved not only with long-lasting asphalt or concrete, but with accountability.
Shameless speedsters
(This piece was meant to drop today (Thursday), but Sunday’s surprise turn of events came roaring in faster than a Skyway speedster with a disregard for lane discipline. And before everyone knew it, Vince Dizon was no longer Transport tsar. Still, no edits, no apologies—here it is in all its unfiltered glory, for whatever it’s worth.)
It began not with a bang, but with a website—sumbongsapangulo.ph. It was launched, no less, by President Marcos Jr. as his legacy project, compiling all public works projects, their corresponding budgets, and contractors. Mr. Marcos, a public servant for 20 years, is also known as a longtime fan of high-octane thrills, who was spotted at the Singapore Grand Prix in 2022 and 2023.
This time, Mr. Marcos presumably swapped his F1 racing cap for a hard hat and a shovel to dig up what might be the worst scandal of his tenure.
Last month, he unraveled the unholy mystery of chronic flooding and found sweetheart deals. Fifteen contractors, fattened by juicy government contracts, were named and shamed—while the Department of Public Works and Highways played the dual role of a participant and referee, with blinders on. Thus, the tagline: Mahiya naman kayo sa kapwa niyong Pilipino!
Fast lane to fortune
The presidential website didn’t just open a can of worms. It unlocked a whole warehouse of them. And now that the shit has hit the fan, everyone, including media celebrities who dipped a finger into this mess, is getting smeared. While the ensuing public outcry over the megabuck mess rages on, Vince Dizon (until last Sunday the Transport tsar) chimed in.
Inspired by the presidential cue, Dizon embarked on his personal crusade —this time targeting rogue drivers who treat highways like racetracks and traffic laws like optional accessories, such as bells and whistles.
Digital whipping post
Dizon was reportedly stunned by the sheer number of speedsters facing sanctions (around 11,000 in Metro Manila alone as of July 2025). He mulled over the idea of a weekly digital whipping post: a social media roll call of errant motorists, complete with fines, penalties, and possibly even mugshots.
Perhaps, he should also consider factoring in the number of accidents and fatalities involving rogue drivers: the more violations, the harsher the penalties. They must be taught some lessons on road safety and courtesy. Last week, we highlighted the need for a draconian deterrent against serious offenses, which may include corporal punishment that offenders richly deserve.
But why stop there? If we’re going full medieval, let’s skip the slap on the wrist and go straight to flogging, which is also called “caning” or “whipping” in Singapore and other countries.
It’s not a lost cause for Dizon, though. With him now overseeing the DPWH, he may turn his agency into a chopping block, and not a fast lane to fortune.
In Singapore, which will once again stage its annual F1 night-racing event this September, public flogging is a statement. In the Philippines, particularly at the DPWH, it might just be the new national pastime—call it “Public Display of Accountability,” or PDA for short.
The autobahn of EVs
The Philippines, long a laggard in electrified mobility, is now laying down its own autobahn—not of German-engineered structure, but of policy, infrastructure, and consumer appetite.
From Metro Manila to Mindanao, showrooms are sprouting like fast-charging mushrooms. EO 12 sliced tariffs like a katana (Japanese knife) through bureaucracy, and suddenly, EVs (electric vehicles) aren’t just for Makati’s elite—they’re creeping into provincial fleets, logistics vans, and even the occasional tricycle retrofit.
In a country where traffic jams are more predictable than the weather, the idea of an autobahn sounds absurd. But beneath the chaos and diesel haze, Luzon is quietly building its own expressway—not of concrete, but of wattage.
Tariff turnaround
Executive Order No. 12 cut import duties on EVs. Suddenly, electrification wasn’t just a mantra or buzzword—it was a business model. BYD, Foton, Jaecoo, and Chery didn’t just enter the market; they colonized it. Dealerships mushroomed across the archipelago, turning provincial malls into launchpads for lithium-powered ambition.
However, Toyota’s hybrids still dominate the lane, although the real race is in full electrification. Ford Group Philippines has also caught up with the pack by unloading the Mustang Mach-E and Ford Territory HEV, signifying its most serious bid as a challenger model.
With 29,715 NEVs registered by July, the country’s appetite is growing faster than its charging network can keep up. Luzon’s energy corridors—once plagued by brownouts—are now being eyed as the backbone of a national EV expressway.
Lane change
The modern-day autobahn isn’t about speed; it’s about direction. And the Philippines is pointing toward a future where electrification isn’t a luxury—it’s a lane change.
But something deeper is changing. EVs are no longer status symbols—they’re fashion statements, too. Logistics fleets are going electric. Government agencies are replacing their gas-guzzling vehicles. Even tricycle cooperatives are flirting with conversion kits.
The autobahn isn’t just a road—it’s a mindset. And in the Philippines, that EV mindset is accelerating. Buckle up, please. Radar-aided expressway enforcers are on their toes.
