Pandemonic apps

As if the pandemic and lockdowns weren’t hard enough, we, the poor, suffering citizens, still have to put up with the nincompoops in the government sector. Sadly, we end up paying not just their salaries, but also the price of their incompetence.

There are instances, concededly, when public service exceeds our low expectations, and we throw a deserved spotlight on overachievers. But more often than not, we bear the brunt of ridiculously idiotic systems, policies or rules, designed not for efficiency, or ease, but instead, for half-hearted compliance towards showing “results”.

Take for instance, that TRAZE app the government required for domestic travelers. Everyone seeking to fly was made to download it, on the assumption that this would make contact-tracing among travelers achievable.

I can confirm that, last year, activating the TRAZE app at the airport was a necessary step before boarding the plane. But that was last year. These days, over at the domestic terminal in NAIA 2, no one checks whether passengers are scanning phones on the TRAZE QR poster. Which is incongruous, compared to how, over at the Mactan, Cebu terminal, airport guards manning the entrance ensure that the TRAZE app pings before allowing entry.

Ironic, considering that on the flight to Cebu, passengers weren’t TRAZEd, but on the turn-around flight, those same passengers magically appear in the system. Doesn’t anybody manning the info being spewed into TRAZE notice inconsistencies (can someone at least let those Mactan guards know they’ve been enforcing a dud the past few months)?

So, hard questions. Who monitors the TRAZE app, who mines the data for analysis, and what happens to all the information stored there? How do they contact-trace suspected cases? What are its stats? What are its success rates? More importantly, who profits from providing that app, and keeping that system running (sort of)?

And that’s domestic. Over at the international front, a traveler from Spain recounted his experience of filling up an online system before receiving a One Health Pass QR Code, only to fill up arrival and health cards calling for the same information upon arriving in Manila. That’s not all.

There were three new hoops to go through upon arrival here. First, a Department of Tourism desk for purposes of gathering info (including passports), a health desk where the RT-PCR test could only be booked upon arrival (and more filling-up of the very same information on online forms), and yet a third “verification” desk, where all the info (or more probably, only some) were reviewed. Which takes another three hours.

I would suppose these government agencies aren’t talking to each other? Like the One Health Pass isn’t really a pass, but a cruel joke? Shouldn’t all that data already have been forwarded to the immigration authorities, so they could just counter-check upon arrival?

These are manifestations of the same pandemic of insensitivity raging through our civil service. It’s as if, the word “service” wasn’t even explained to the servants. Should we attempt to redefine their roles in our system? Like, break down the concept “public service” into questions like “does this make the public’s life more comfortable?” “Will this save time?” “Will this make it easier for the public?”

For many government employees, employment in the civil service is just a means to get by. A paycheck to look forward to, accompanied by the necessary drudgery of attending to the supplicants outside needing assistance. Couple this with the bosses who want to make a quick buck, and we get instant contracts for providing useless forms, useless mandatory service providers (like testing centers and quarantine hotels) at inflated prices, and useless apps.

How do we fight this? Continually raising a stink might be worth it --to at least get some accountability. Complain. Raise the issue. As that cartoonist TarantadongKalbo says (and I translate) - “stand up!”

It’s a start.