Those colorful advisories we often read in social media do make sense when we should consider some guideposts on May 12. For instance, we are given the names of those senators who agreed to defund PhilHealth. Not all of them are running for reelection except for one, the other is giving up her throne in favor of a seat in the Lower House. She has served in the Senate for a maximum of two terms or 12 years. Defunding PhilHealth assaults the very heart of universal healthcare, the only hope of poor Filipinos, in fact even those in the middle class, to receive some feeble medical care. If you wish to keep PhilHealth toothless, vote for these candidates who do not possess even a hint of social conscience.

This is the process of elimination.

Another advisory warned us against those senators who actually voted in favor of the POGO Law. POGO is Philippine Offshore Gaming Operators who are authorized under RA 11590. While they are taxed in the context of regulating all forms of legal gambling, the law sounds defensive: it “shall not be construed as a favorable state endorsement of such activity.” But we are wiser now. Everyone, some grudgingly we suppose, changed heart against POGO when then Bamban, Tarlac’s Mayor Alice Guo, was arrested for human trafficking and financial and cybercrimes fronted by elaborate POGO operations just behind her own municipal office in Tarlac. Billions of dollars were swindled from around the world in that sleepy town of Tarlac. Beware of senators who now pose as crusaders against illegal gambling. The social media advisory listed eight candidates for senator, one of whom used to be a congressman from one city in Metro Manila. At best, these are hypocrites and great pretenders. More elimination.

And finally, we are also advised of the names of six senators seeking reelection who refused to sign the Blue Ribbon Committee of former Senator Richard Gordon. All but two are in the magic 12 of the Pulse Asia survey of April 2025. Notwithstanding all the damning evidence that Pharmally Pharmaceutical Corp. had an impossibly weak paid-up capital of P625,000, it was awarded nine contracts worth P8.68 billion, and some more. The contracts involved the supply to Government of personal protective equipment, surgical masks, face shields, and RT-PCR test kits. What is so unconscionable is that most of the deliveries were “deformed, soiled and substandard.” Voting for any one or all of these six means we desire a repeat of plunder in government, or gross dishonesty among private business dealing in public projects. Six more should be eliminated.

To advise our church members on how to choose the best candidates on May 12, we convened a town hall meeting at the Fullness of Christ International Ministries in Mandaluyong last Sunday. We explained the standard criteria in selecting candidates, particularly on the national level, such as integrity and honesty, competence, experience and track record, positions on national issues involving justice and righteousness (mass killing and POGO operations), and nationalism (West Philippine Sea). One interesting comment of one of our elders is to follow a very simple formula. “I would not vote anyone from the tickets of the two biggest clans.” That simplifies our choices. That is genius.

Which seems to be validated by another post in social media. Out of curiosity, ChatGPT was asked who it would select from over 60 candidates for senator based on a good and clean public record, a pro-people platform, not a human rights violator or corrupt. And, yes, no one from both parties made it to the magic 12. But two former senators from the opposition topped the list, four former cause-oriented party-list representatives including one former party-list representative who did not run for senator but for party-list representation, three labor leaders, a Moro activist and peace advocate, and, finally, the fiery former commissioner of audit who ran on the platform of transparency, anti-corruption, and good governance.

ChatGPT selected these candidates by adhering closely with those pre-defined criteria, rather than on the basis of winnability or popularity. With an expected long memory like an elephant’s, ChatGPT asserted that all its 12 choices “have no history of corruption, plunder, abuse of power, or human rights violations.” Driven by Generative Pre-Trained Transformer that uses specialized algorithms that establish patterns within data sequences, it was quick to establish that its choices enjoy independence from dynasties or political machineries.

Do we need to explain that these anchors are good for the Philippines?

With or without ChatGPT, it is easily understood that the candidates’ clean public record distinguishes them from many candidates often associated with entitlement or impunity. Pro-people and sectoral advocacy is the receipt of these candidates that the interests of farmers, laborers, teachers, women, indigenous people, and the poor are paramount in their priority. Many of them, at some point in their professional life, fought against tyranny, impunity, red tagging, and human rights violations. They don’t just talk, they act.

Only 12 out of 24 senators, ChatGPT’s choices are expected to help shift power away from entrenched and covetous political dynasties, and also away from make-believe characters from the movies and talk shows. Their serious concerns could restore focus on policy and not on populist gimmickry and cash dole-outs. They could change the dynamics of the Philippine Senate — it could become a true instrument for check and balance, that principled politics still and could exist. Bottomline according to ChatGPT: this group of 12 “would raise the level of discourse, lawmaking and accountability in the Senate.”

But ChatGPT’s list is not what some would call a “winning coalition.”

Let’s get this straight.

Alastair Smith and Bruce Bueno de Mesquita in The Dictator’s Handbook (2011) argue that, one, politics is about getting and keeping political power; two, political survival is best assured by depending on a few people to attain and retain office; three, discretion and tax policy (in the Philippines, it’s budget) enable kleptocracy and that means a longer tenure in office; and, four, dependence on a small coalition allows leaders to tax at high rates, although this could foment an uprising especially when the press is free.

On that basis, tyrants (yes, in the Philippines we have a lot of political tyrants) survive if it is clear to them that there are people who matter in theory, that is, the general electorate — those who cast their vote that they need to win. They are the “nominal selectorate.”

There are also people who actually matter, the group that leaders are required to control. This is the group that actually determines who stays in power. In the US, some would argue that it is the electoral college. In the Philippines, we dare say it’s the political dynasties and the business tycoons. One can also add those public officials who have something to do with the conduct of the election. This group is the “real selectorate.” They have political control, they have the funds, and they manage the election.

And finally, the so-called “winning coalition.” The key here is determining who among the political dynasties continue to wield real strategic power, who among the business tycoons are politically motivated, and who among the election officials are open to discussion. To them, it’s not ChatGPT.

In the Philippines, there is also something about those incumbents, both in the national and local levels, that could truly help them get even more entrenched. This is their access to public money.

There are three financial assistance programs that Congress established ostensibly to win elections: the P26-billion Ayuda Para sa Kapos ang Kita Program (AKAP), the P45-billion Assistance to Individuals in Crisis Situation (AICS), and the P18-billion Tulong Panghanapbuhay sa Ating Disadvantaged /Displaced Workers Program (Tupad), or a total of P89 billion. Congress put these programs at the disposal of incumbent members of the Lower House. Effectively, these funds ensure their reelection or those of their anointed successors, candidates for governors, mayors and other local officials. True, these programs are technically implemented by relevant government agencies, but they can only be spent upon orders. Congressmen identify the beneficiaries and distribute the cash dole-outs to the recipients. In the case of Medical Assistance to Indigent and Financially Incapacitated Patients (MAIFIP), incumbents issue guarantee letters to hospitals.

Why would the nominal selectorate not vote for these candidates who dispense money as if it’s their own?

This is not to mention the enormous commissions public officials extract from public works that they could use on May 12 to buy additional votes.

There is also financial gravitas in the campaign kitty courtesy of politically motivated business tycoons. To new candidates, this is like puppet strings. To political veterans, this is gravy that they don’t have to spend but will definitely pad their bank balance.

In short, as Smith and De Mesquita would quip about dictators, “bad behavior is almost always good politics.”

But our people should know that even as the nominal selectorate — and they are not the real selectorate and winning alliances — they can bypass those sweeteners from their own taxes and vote for those candidates of merit. If the election process is sabotaged, public outrage in the parliament of the street is the next best option.

Otherwise, as Abraham Lincoln once upon a time said, “Elections belong to the people. It’s their decision. If they decide to turn their backs on the fire and burn their behind, then they will just have to be prepared to sit on their blisters.”

Diwa C. Guinigundo is the former deputy governor for the Monetary and Economics Sector, the Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas (BSP). He served the BSP for 41 years. In 2001-2003, he was alternate executive director at the International Monetary Fund in Washington, DC. He is the senior pastor of the Fullness of Christ International Ministries in Mandaluyong.