THE Philippine budget has always been political, but rarely has it been so systematized. Behind the 2025 General Appropriations Act (GAA) lies an internal mechanism known as the BBM Parametric Formula — “baselined, balanced and managed.” Framed as a technocratic solution to rationalize spending, it now sits at the intersection of three destabilizing developments: the death of its alleged architect, a constitutional challenge pending before the Supreme Court, and mounting allegations that money has been distributed not only for projects but even for political acts — such as signatures for the impeachment of Vice President Sara Duterte.

Taken together, these point to a disturbing pattern: the conversion of governance into a marketplace where ceilings, signatures and silence all have a price at the start of the Marcos administration.

At its core, the BBM Parametric Formula determines how much each congressional district can access in DPWH projects. Before Congress debates priorities, a ceiling is already computed. Lawmakers are then invited to choose from a pre-approved menu of projects — roads, flood control, slope protection — provided they stay within their “allocable.” This is sold as order and discipline. In reality, it is pre-authorization masquerading as reform.

Unlike the pork barrel of old, this system leaves no obvious fingerprints. No line item bears a legislator’s name. No envelope changes hands in public view. Instead, power is exercised upstream — through ceilings set by planners, through lists filtered before reaching the National Expenditure Program, and through approvals that occur outside the glare of plenary debate.

Investigative reporting has pointed to former DPWH undersecretary for planning Maria Catalina “Cathy” Cabral as the official who crafted the BBM Parametric Formula, allegedly upon instruction from then Public Works and Highways secretary Manuel Bonoan. Cabral reportedly acknowledged being told to design a parametric system. Her death has since closed off the most authoritative source who could explain, on record, how the formula truly worked. And there is another personality who has to be investigated, as he was the point person at the legislative branch of the 19th Congress. Today, he is chairman of the committee on public works.

That loss of institutional memory would already be alarming. But it becomes more troubling when placed against the backdrop of the 2025 GAA’s constitutionality still pending before the Supreme Court. The issue is no longer just technical compliance. It is whether the budget process has been so intermediated by formulas and informal approvals that it has drifted away from constitutional design.

The diversion/insertion happened in 2023 at P300 billion, in 2024 at P500 billion and in 2025 at P400 billion, or a total of P1.2 trillion.

The Constitution vests the power of the purse in Congress. While the executive proposes, Congress disposes. But if lawmakers are effectively confined to pre-set ceilings, and if real discretion lies with a small planning circle that decides which projects survive the filtering process, then Congress is no longer exercising power — it is ratifying outcomes.

This is why the demand to release the full proponents list is critical. Former budget officials, including neophyte Rep. Leandro Leviste, have stated publicly that proponents’ lists attached to infrastructure projects include not only legislators but also even private individuals. If private names appear as proponents of public projects, the implications are staggering for both Marcos Jr. and his administration.

And now, into this already fragile ecosystem, comes another allegation that cannot be ignored: that fees, in the form of infrastructure projects, were given to secure signatures for the impeachment of Vice President Duterte. If true, this represents the logical extension of a system that has normalized transactional politics. When budget ceilings can be managed, when projects can be traded, it is not a leap — but a slide — toward monetizing legislative acts themselves.

An impeachment signature is not a policy preference. It is a constitutional act of the highest order. If signatures were purchased — directly or indirectly — using access to funds, projects, or outright cash, then impeachment ceases to be a safeguard. It becomes a commodity.

Control over infrastructure allocations creates leverage. Leverage creates compliance. Compliance, in turn, can be mobilized not just for budgets but for political objectives: silence, alignment, or signatures.

The administration may dismiss these concerns as speculation. But in a democracy, the answer to doubt is not denial — it is disclosure. Publish the formula. Release the proponents list. Identify who endorsed which projects and why. Clarify whether budgetary leverage was used to influence impeachment proceedings.

Budgets are moral documents. Impeachment is a constitutional safeguard. When both are reduced to transactions, the Republic itself is put on layaway.

The Supreme Court’s review of the 2025 GAA is therefore about more than numbers. It is about whether technocracy has been allowed to eclipse accountability, and whether political power has quietly migrated from institutions to intermediaries.

Can the 20th Congress be able to redeem itself? Not with the way the GAA 2026 bicameral conference went. In full public glare, the porks and perks have been restored and some actually increased, all lumped in a Standby Fund, the new name of Unprogrammed Funds.

And still, not one legislator moved for the abolition of liquidation by certification. Not one opened the budget of Congress. No one wants to be transparent and accountable in an institution directly created by the mandate of the people.

In the end, the question Filipinos must ask is not only how much was allocated, or who signed. It is far more unsettling — and far more necessary: How much does a decision cost now, and who is setting the price?