So, we canceled the nepo babies. What now?
Every week, PhilSTAR L!fe explores issues and topics from the perspectives of different age groups, encouraging healthy but meaningful conversations on why they matter. This is Generations by our Gen Z columnist Angel Martinez.
Gen Z’s collective proclivity to cancel culture is often considered our fatal flaw. Some say we are cruel for revoking others' right to grow from their mistakes, and for demanding an unrealistic level of perfection from public figures. But recently, our efforts paid off.
A whirlwind of events led to widespread outrage over so-called nepo babies, or children of government officials and contractors who allegedly misused the government's budget for flood control projects to finance their lavish lifestyles. The likes of Claudine Co, Gela Marasigan, Gela Alonte, and the Enciso twins are on blast for the international shopping sprees, luxury cars, and round-trip private jets plastered on their Instagram pages and vlogs.
During the launch of Filipino Perspectives Digest's inaugural issue in partnership between WR Numero and PhilSTAR L!fe, content creator and youth advocate Janina Vela said that what she loves about our generation is that we “talk and talk and talk and talk and talk, and we won’t stop until everyone in the room is listening.” And it’s true! Our ways of expressing dissent and demanding accountability are repetitive to the point of being inescapable. Through scathing, shareable content, we force those in the spotlight into silence and account suspension.
But while I’d hate to dampen anyone’s spirits, I must say that we’re still not angry enough. Or at the very least, angry at the right things.
Of course, we have some blind fans defending those at fault, even though it’s legally mandated for anyone connected to public officials to lead a simple lifestyle. There are also those coping through satire, and I have to admit: They were funny at first. But one can only see enough memes before they start to grow disillusioned.
Surprisingly, we also have the fashion police, critiquing what the corrupt choose to spend their money on—from “nouveau riche” designer brands, to botched nose jobs. As if obscene wealth would be tolerable if it fell into the hands of those with taste, or those who met conventional standards of attractiveness. I’m starting to wonder if these are meant to be calls to action, or manifestations of our obsession with the ostentatious.
Cancel culture seems to be effective for public scrutiny—it’s our way of pushing back against unjust structures. But when we just fixate on individuals, we fail to dismantle the institutions responsible for this deceit. Despite our warranted and palpable anger, why does it seem so difficult to mobilize against our modern-day oppressors?
Sociologist Athena Charanne “Ash” Presto shared some theories of her own in a recent Substack entry: one of which being the glaring class divide. “More often than not, the middle class are active in online callouts, but these fail to translate to those on the fringes,” she said in Filipino. “It’s also hard for [those on the margins] to take leaves from their jobs and storm the streets, regardless of how enraged they are, especially if there is a lack of support to back them up.” This was also echoed by a 21-year-old respondent of the first study published in the aforementioned Filipino Perspectives Digest, who pointed out that engaging in social issues can feel inaccessible with limited resources.
Our own privilege might be a reason, too. We have to admit that the inadequacies of our government do not hit us as hard as those on the lowest rungs on the ladder. We scroll past photos from the aftermath of a storm, from the comfort of our homes, which could be a sign that we’ve become deeply desensitized to systemic failings that we sometimes need visual reminders that they exist.
Corruption seems so deeply ingrained in our way of life. Think of the times we’ve witnessed a family member bribe a traffic enforcer, or used connections to unfairly secure a job opportunity. Every single time we’ve dismissed it as a small act that “everyone does anyway,” we widen our threshold of tolerance until it translates to what we expect from our public servants.
If left unaddressed, this issue will fade into the background in no time, which we can’t allow. And if ragebaiting is what it takes, then so be it. We wake up in the wee hours of the morning and brave brutal traffic to do hard and honest work. We endure mandatory tax cuts but manage to make ends meet, without resorting to any form of thievery.
Yet, rather than see it funneled into projects of importance, we have a bunch of spoiled brats parading it around on social media with no remorse. Today, a regular thunderstorm can wipe out Quezon City in mere hours. Who knows just how many casualties there could be, if flood control still isn’t made a priority—if all we have to show are ghost projects that never materialize?
Think of how flawed and broken our system is that we have to take matters into our own hands and enact our own form of guerrilla justice. Think of everything the Philippines could have become, if not for the plunderers in power who are only after their personal agenda.
Channel all that anger brewing in your heart into compiling evidence and mass-reporting it to the proper authorities. Demand oversight and transparency, rather than acquiescing to old patterns of political patronage. Pressure officials into disclosing their statements of assets, liabilities, and net worth. It may seem disheartening, especially because those we are expected to turn to during times like this are somewhat embroiled in similar controversies. But we have no other choice.
Even something as simple as choosing the right words when posting for awareness can make all the difference. Rather than sugarcoat or resort to punchlines, let’s say it as it is. Some of these people did not amass their riches through determination and drive. Their greed is slowly killing the Filipino people. They must be stopped. They have to pay.
Generations by Angel Martinez appears weekly at PhilSTAR L!fe.