The specter of the new millennium, insidiously hovering above us, does not inspire much confidence. Every political nook and cranny is abuzz with talk of change—calls for reforms in governance, the electoral system, social and economic structures, and a bureaucratic overhaul seem to be the order of the day. Yet, we falter. We hesitate. We bury ourselves in the details of trivial matters, occupying ourselves with the frivolous and anything that can distract us. We attempt to cocoon ourselves, clinging to a stubborn preference for the dull and the ordinary. But the reality of the inevitable is right in front of us. There is no escape. We must face what must be faced—otherwise, we perish.

Democratic deficits at every level are like dirty, giant worms devouring the country from within. Remember—they are worms: emotionless and blind. Scientifically, worms are soft-bodied, legless invertebrates with long, slender forms, thriving in various environments—soil, freshwater, and saltwater. In computing terms, a worm is a kind of virus. Ironically, these “worms” in our country wear coats and ties, ride luxurious cars—fantasies to millions—and crawl through society in the dead of night, while we sleep in ignorance and passivity.

A lack of transparency and accountability, the persistence of patronage politics, plundering by the oligarchy, detached technocratic decision-making, insufficient public participation, and a political system that serves only the wealthy and influential—these are the hallmarks of our situation.
It is no wonder that, nearly every day, we witness restless citizens joining massive protests, flooding the streets with questions: Why do only the small fry face justice, while those accused of major corruption remain free? Whispers abound about People Power 4, 5, or 6, and even the return of martial law. The majority hang by a thread, running out of patience.

A storm is brewing—not the kind triggered by a low-pressure area—but one born of a burnt-out citizenry, impatient for results: the incarceration of “big fish” politicians, the dismantling of the “crocodiles” in Congress and the Senate, liberation from abject poverty, and deliverance from police ineptitude and corruption. Yet, for all our talk, it remains just that: talk. And it’s all threatening to erupt in our faces.

Should we simply live and let live? Persist in apathy and indifference, living up to our reputation as the “sick man” of Asia? Or are we waiting to hit rock bottom, hoping that only then will we finally decide to change direction? If we are driven mad by these maladies afflicting our country, we know the blame cannot be cast elsewhere.
Change—or whatever it is we hold sacred as our deliverance—begins with each one of us. As George Bernard Shaw once said, “Progress is impossible without change, and those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything.”

Change is, indeed, a much-abused word. Nearly every administration has wielded it as a slogan. But now, what must be done? First, we must all acknowledge that the system is broken, calling for comprehensive reform in our politics and bureaucracy. Second, we must recognize and address poverty, for without tackling it, any institutional reforms will be futile.

We are free to choose, but we are not free from the consequences of our choices. Is change really coming? One can only sigh. And what change are we talking about? I doubt anything will happen if all we do is talk.