Public service

That was a refreshing reaction from TV talk show host Boy Abunda, when asked if he would accept a Cabinet position from incoming president Benigno Aquino III.

Public service, Abunda told our entertainment editor Ricky Lo yesterday, “is not a money-earning job.” Abunda has millions to lose, in terms of TV talent fees and product endorsements, if he joins the government.

It is touching to find someone who appears to have this noble idea of public service being all dedicated work and low pay, without tong-pats that could earn him wealth beyond his wildest dreams, or at least several times more than what he can ever hope to earn in his lifetime in show business.

Why else do you think the chairman and board directors of top revenue earner PAGCOR, the Philippine Amusement and Gaming Corp., still haven’t had their fill of government after nearly a decade in office? Surely it isn’t the pay that made PAGCOR chief Ephraim Genuino finagle a one-year extension of his term, starting from the eve of the ban on midnight appointments, from his boss President Arroyo.

Genuino’s daughter Sheryl See is also expected to join government, through the congressional backdoor, as representative of a party-list group accused of being bankrolled by PAGCOR. By law, the government cannot provide funding or other resources to party-list groups. But for the past nine and a half years the law in this country has been suspended, or left open for the widest, most imaginative “interpretation” by the courts.

In other countries, only a truly higher calling can persuade wealthy individuals to take a leave from their businesses and serve in government. In this country, the rich enter government to get richer, and to ensure the exponential growth of family fortunes.

This is one of the biggest reasons for the perpetuation of political dynasties, and why the party-list system has become an obscene joke, at taxpayers’ expense.

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In a perfect world, one wields power to do good for the greatest number.

In an imperfect world, one incidentally does good for the greatest number while benefiting oneself. Some call it enlightened self-interest. Others see it as a more realistic appreciation of human nature.

There are societies, of course, where what’s good for the greatest number is seen to be good for the individual. Singapore is a prime example. But Pinoys in general are wired differently.

We have many good public servants: competent, dedicated men and women in all branches of government who serve the nation well despite the modest pay and unattractive working conditions.

But there are many others who simply want the perks of public office, as well as the enormous opportunities for self-enrichment. Sadly, to this second category belong most of our politicians and top government officials.

This is evident in the membership of Congress. Lawmakers used to be content with simply working to have spouses or children take over their vacated seats. These days, first-degree relatives sit together at the same time even in the Senate.

At the House, President Arroyo is leading by example in installing herself, her two sons and brother-in-law as representatives, with a district created specially for one son and a party-list group tailor-made for the other. This is not a political dynasty; it’s a family enterprise.

Admittedly, such family businesses cannot thrive without the consent of the public. The President and her relatives can validly say that the people installed them in Congress, and they didn’t even need “Garci” or Lintang Bedol.

Truly, we deserve the legislature, and the government, we get.

Just as inbreeding among the enormously wealthy weaken younger generations and create debilitating problems such as hemophilia, incestuous politics has weakened Philippine society.

The damage can even be quantified in terms of lives lost or property destroyed. Clans trying to preserve political power – and their family businesses – account for many of the deadly election-related violent cases as well as attacks on militant activists, legal professionals and journalists.

Some observers see this as the darker side of the traditionally high voter turnout in Philippine elections. Politicians make sure their supporters turn out at the polling centers in sufficient numbers to preserve their power, with all the perks and capacity for patronage that go with elective office.

After the May 10 elections, several foreigners told me how impressed they were that Filipinos seemed to put so much faith in democracy and the ballot, with people willing to wait in line for hours to vote. In their countries, the foreigners told me, people would have given up quickly.

But the cynical explanation for the high voter turnout is also valid in certain areas.

Public office in this country is not seen as a public trust, or as a responsibility to deliver honest and competent service to the public.

Instead it is seen as a ticket to wealth. The stakes in holding on to public office can be so high that people are willing to lie, cheat, steal and kill for it.

Occasionally we come across individuals with an idealistic perception of public service.

If Noynoy Aquino can recruit enough men and women who see government service as a money-losing proposition, he will be on his way to fulfilling his principal campaign promise.