Walk down any provincial capitol or city hall in the Philippines and ask who’s in charge. Chances are, the surname will sound familiar — because it’s the same family name that’s been plastered on campaign posters for decades. That’s the reality of political dynasties: families treating public office like family property, passing seats from father to son, mother to daughter, uncle to nephew. And it’s why the Anti-Dynasty Act has been called the “longest overdue promise” of our Constitution. Since 1987, the charter has said dynasties should be banned. But Congress — dominated by dynastic families themselves — has never passed the law. As my late barber was fond of saying: Sino ba naman ho ang pupulot ng bato para ipukpok sa kanilang sariling ulo?

Political dynasties aren’t just about familiar names. They mean concentration of power, where one family controls the mayor’s office, the governor’s seat, and the congressional district. They mean weak competition, where ordinary citizens, no matter how qualified, can’t break through because dynasties have money, machinery, and name recall. They mean patronage politics, where public resources are used to maintain family influence, not to serve the people. The result is that voters often feel they’re choosing between cousins, not between real alternatives. Democracy becomes a family feud.

Now let’s talk about the party-list system. It was supposed to give marginalized groups — farmers, fisherfolk, workers, women — a voice in Congress. But what happened? Wealthy businessmen, political clans, and even celebrities hijacked the system. Instead of representing the poor, many party-list seats became backdoors for traditional politicians. Some groups don’t even pretend to be marginalized. They’re just another political brand, another way to grab power. That’s why reforms are urgent: stricter qualifications for party-list nominees, clearer definitions of “marginalized sectors,” and transparency in funding and operations. If we don’t fix the party-list system, it risks becoming a parody of itself — a circus act where the clowns are the same old politicians in new costumes.

These two issues — dynasties and party-lists — are connected. Both show how the political elite bend the rules to keep power. Both block genuine representation. And both erode trust in democracy. Passing an Anti-Dynasty Law would open doors for new leaders. Reforming the party-list system would ensure those doors aren’t just revolving ones for the same elite. Together, they could reset the playing field and give ordinary Filipinos a fighting chance.

But let’s be real: Congress won’t pass these reforms unless people strongly demand it. That means voters speaking up — not just during elections, but every time dynasties and fake party-lists abuse the system. It means media shining a light — exposing how families monopolize power and how party-list seats are misused. It means civil society pushing hard — keeping pressure on lawmakers until they act.

Political dynasties and party-list abuse are two sides of the same coin: power hoarded by the few, denied to the many. If we want a Philippines where leadership is about service, not inheritance, then we need to break the chains of dynasties and fix the party-list mess. It’s not just reform. It’s survival for our democracy. ([email protected])