In Democracy in America, Alexis de Tocqueville warned of a paradox at the heart of modern societies: liberty cannot survive without democracy, yet democracy can persist even as liberty quietly erodes. A country can hold regular elections and champion equality at the ballot box while political power consolidates in the hands of a narrow elite. In the Philippines, political dynasties are the most vivid expression of this paradox—and confronting them is now a matter of economic as well as democratic urgency.

The Philippine Constitution is explicit: political dynasties shall be prohibited “as may be defined by law.” Yet nearly four decades after its ratification, no enabling legislation has emerged. That absence is not accidental. Empirical mapping of political families shows dynastic actors dominating roughly 70% of legislative positions in Congress, with extensive representation in local government. Those tasked with regulating dynasties are themselves the system’s primary beneficiaries—a classic instance of equality at the ballot box being captured by entrenched elites.

Tocqueville understood that formal equality—one person, one vote—can be manipulated when certain actors wield far greater resources and organizational capacity than others. In the Philippines, dynastic families combine financial capital, social networks, and brand recognition to create what function as inherited political assets. Elections continue, but competition narrows. Citizens remain formally sovereign while witnessing a stagnation of leadership.

This concentration of power has clear economic implications. The Philippine economy achieved respectable headline growth recently—expanding by about 5.6% in 2024, among the fastest rates in Southeast Asia—before dipping to 4.4% in 2025. Beneath these averages lie persistent structural weaknesses, including uneven regional development and entrenched poverty.

Despite growth, approximately 15.5% of Filipinos—roughly 17.5 million people—remain in poverty. Such deprivation is shaped by the quality of local governance and its capacity to translate economic expansion into broad-based opportunity. Regions dominated by closed political systems often struggle to attract diversified investment, expand employment, or improve human capital. When leadership circulation is restricted, policy horizons shorten and incentives skew toward patronage rather than structural reform.

For investors, these governance patterns translate into risk. Foreign direct investment in the Philippines, while improving, still trails regional peers like Malaysia, Indonesia, and Vietnam. Regulatory unpredictability and concerns over institutional integrity raise the cost of doing business. In late 2025, a major infrastructure corruption probe dented both consumer and investor sentiment, contributing to slower growth in the third quarter. These are not isolated events; they reflect how concentrated power can blunt institutional performance.

Tocqueville’s notion of “soft despotism”—in which citizens are reassured by elections but rendered passive in civic life—finds an unsettling echo here. When leadership appears pre-scripted by lineage, citizens may treat governance as a spectacle rather than a shared responsibility. This disengagement weakens the foundations of development: trust in institutions, accountability of public servants, and active participation in policy.

Policy reform must widen the circulation of both political and economic opportunity. A constitutionally grounded anti-dynasty law—defining prohibited degrees of familial succession and simultaneous office-holding—would signal that public authority is a trust, not an inheritance. Complementary reforms in campaign finance transparency and enforceable spending limits would reduce barriers to entry. Furthermore, stronger, programmatic political parties would offer voters clearer alternatives and provide businesses with stable regulatory expectations.

Decentralization must be matched with institutional safeguards: professional civil services, transparent procurement, and empowered audit bodies. Reinforcing the rule of law would bolster confidence among foreign and domestic investors alike. Finally, "civic infrastructure"—including robust education, a free press, and a vibrant civil society—is essential to cultivate the engaged citizenry Tocqueville saw as democracy’s lifeblood.

Critics argue that restricting dynasties limits voter choice. However, meaningful choice presupposes an open arena. When structural advantages repeatedly tilt competition toward a narrow elite, democracy risks becoming hereditary in substance if not in name. Businesses and citizens are better served by a system where leadership circulates and accountability thrives.

The Philippines’ economic ambitions—inclusive growth and rising competitiveness—rest on the credibility of its institutions. Headline GDP figures cannot secure long-term prosperity if governance structures concentrate power and constrain opportunity. Political dynasties represent a consolidation of authority that shadows the economy’s potential.

Confronting them is not a partisan crusade; it is a pragmatic reform agenda aligned with liberty and competition. Tocqueville’s warning endures because democracy must continually renew the conditions of liberty or risk preserving only its outward form. For a nation seeking durable prosperity, that renewal begins with keeping the gates of power genuinely open.