Fat
Fat
Updated 10:02pm (Mla time) Sept 18, 2004
Inquirer News Service
Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the September 19, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer
THERE is a new front in the budget wars; the new enemy, after pork, is fat. The Senate launched the new offensive last week, attacking the lavishly compensated executives who run the country’s government-owned or -controlled corporations. The senators chose their objective well; GOCC officials are a rich and easy target.
But the senators, each with P200 million in pork barrel funds, also had to choose their objective quickly; the new campaign is essentially a feint, a maneuver to move the action to a more hospitable terrain. Their battle cry is simple and blood-curdling: “Don’t blame us, blame them.”
To which the only appropriate answer is Shakespearean: A pox on both your houses! We believe it is not only possible to trim the fat in the public corporations while at the same time eliminating the pork in Congress; it is necessary.
In fact, the two practices share a common, dangerous assumption: the sinecures in government companies and the legislators’ pork barrel are based on a notion of entitlement. Those in power think they are entitled to the cushy government job or the padded government fund because they have paid their dues: they supported the right candidate, or they ran for election themselves.
We have already called for a reduction in or the outright abolition of the pork barrel, and we will continue to do so. Contrary to what defensive senators and restive congressmen think, and despite all the headlines about the extravagant pay that GOCC executives have given themselves, the public outcry against pork continues.
But we also agree that the fat must be trimmed.
Nothing illustrates the dangerous sense of entitlement better than the maneuvering at the Development Bank of the Philippines. The Commission on Audit had earlier disapproved a new budget item: a P75,000 “office and staff allowance” for every member of the board of directors. Despite the disapproval, the board went ahead and created two confidential positions for every director, the salaries to be sourced from the same “office and staff allowance” already disapproved.
Last Sept. 6, an official in the bank’s Office of the Legal Counsel, Emma Urieta, wrote COA Chair Guillermo Carague a letter of complaint. “Before the start of the last election ban, the DBP board of directors approved the creation of confidential and co-terminus positions for the office of the board. Each director is entitled to two positions which are given to close relatives (wives, children, cousins, etc.).”
(How considerate of the DBP board, to spare the nation from the back-breaking work of development finance by keeping it all within the family.)
We are certain, of course, that the board can issue an explanation rationalizing the new positions, but what these new jobs essentially amount to cannot be justified. They are government-funded favors, granted to the powerful and influential who feel entitled to them, as a matter of course.
A seat on the DBP board is part of the spoils of politics; Malacañang’s appointments reflect the political transactions it has made or wants to make. What the new confidential posts mean is that the spoils have given birth to more spoils.
In her letter, Urieta decried then DBP president Simon Paterno’s decision to consider the confidential employees as privately employed by the directors concerned, and thus “not required to report to the bank.” These directors’ relatives, she said, enjoy a health care plan and a monthly rice subsidy, courtesy of the bank they do not report to.
Granted, the P75,000-a-month allowances seem small compared to the P9.2 million Sergio Apostol received the other year for warming the chairman’s seat of the Philippine National Oil Company. But they add up.
In fact, it all adds up. GOCCs account for the bulk of the consolidated public sector deficit; regardless of their performance, however, their executives continue to enjoy industry-competitive packages. This disconnect between pay and performance cannot but be unhealthy for public service. Just look at the DBP directors, who regard public service as a source of jobs for their relatives. It really doesn’t matter to them that the additional expenses will impact on the bank’s bottom line. Because regardless of how the bank performs, they get paid anyway.
Updated 10:02pm (Mla time) Sept 18, 2004
Inquirer News Service
Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the September 19, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer
THERE is a new front in the budget wars; the new enemy, after pork, is fat. The Senate launched the new offensive last week, attacking the lavishly compensated executives who run the country’s government-owned or -controlled corporations. The senators chose their objective well; GOCC officials are a rich and easy target.
But the senators, each with P200 million in pork barrel funds, also had to choose their objective quickly; the new campaign is essentially a feint, a maneuver to move the action to a more hospitable terrain. Their battle cry is simple and blood-curdling: “Don’t blame us, blame them.”
To which the only appropriate answer is Shakespearean: A pox on both your houses! We believe it is not only possible to trim the fat in the public corporations while at the same time eliminating the pork in Congress; it is necessary.
In fact, the two practices share a common, dangerous assumption: the sinecures in government companies and the legislators’ pork barrel are based on a notion of entitlement. Those in power think they are entitled to the cushy government job or the padded government fund because they have paid their dues: they supported the right candidate, or they ran for election themselves.
We have already called for a reduction in or the outright abolition of the pork barrel, and we will continue to do so. Contrary to what defensive senators and restive congressmen think, and despite all the headlines about the extravagant pay that GOCC executives have given themselves, the public outcry against pork continues.
But we also agree that the fat must be trimmed.
Nothing illustrates the dangerous sense of entitlement better than the maneuvering at the Development Bank of the Philippines. The Commission on Audit had earlier disapproved a new budget item: a P75,000 “office and staff allowance” for every member of the board of directors. Despite the disapproval, the board went ahead and created two confidential positions for every director, the salaries to be sourced from the same “office and staff allowance” already disapproved.
Last Sept. 6, an official in the bank’s Office of the Legal Counsel, Emma Urieta, wrote COA Chair Guillermo Carague a letter of complaint. “Before the start of the last election ban, the DBP board of directors approved the creation of confidential and co-terminus positions for the office of the board. Each director is entitled to two positions which are given to close relatives (wives, children, cousins, etc.).”
(How considerate of the DBP board, to spare the nation from the back-breaking work of development finance by keeping it all within the family.)
We are certain, of course, that the board can issue an explanation rationalizing the new positions, but what these new jobs essentially amount to cannot be justified. They are government-funded favors, granted to the powerful and influential who feel entitled to them, as a matter of course.
A seat on the DBP board is part of the spoils of politics; Malacañang’s appointments reflect the political transactions it has made or wants to make. What the new confidential posts mean is that the spoils have given birth to more spoils.
In her letter, Urieta decried then DBP president Simon Paterno’s decision to consider the confidential employees as privately employed by the directors concerned, and thus “not required to report to the bank.” These directors’ relatives, she said, enjoy a health care plan and a monthly rice subsidy, courtesy of the bank they do not report to.
Granted, the P75,000-a-month allowances seem small compared to the P9.2 million Sergio Apostol received the other year for warming the chairman’s seat of the Philippine National Oil Company. But they add up.
In fact, it all adds up. GOCCs account for the bulk of the consolidated public sector deficit; regardless of their performance, however, their executives continue to enjoy industry-competitive packages. This disconnect between pay and performance cannot but be unhealthy for public service. Just look at the DBP directors, who regard public service as a source of jobs for their relatives. It really doesn’t matter to them that the additional expenses will impact on the bank’s bottom line. Because regardless of how the bank performs, they get paid anyway.


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