A quiet voice for change
Two things I remember about Gani Yambot. One is a conversation we had last year during an Inquirer Briefing. I had heard he had been on leave due to a heart ailment and when I inquired after his health, he said he was due to undergo a heart bypass but that he was worried about it and was having second thoughts.
“Oh, go for it!” I told him, remembering my husband’s open-heart surgery in 1995. “You’ll be like new after the procedure!”
Of course, that was the first thing that sprang to mind when I heard news of Gani’s passing Friday night. Attending media colleague Deedee Siytangco’s birthday dinner, we passed the word around as text messages came pouring in, one of them saying that Gani died soon after he underwent bypass surgery. We were, to say the least, gob-smacked by the news.
The other thing I remember about Gani is the pages of the Inquirer tacked onto bulletin boards in the lounge off the newsroom, pockmarked by arrows, circles and comments in his handwriting. I never got a chance to sit in on one of those editorial assessment meetings, but it was an education just following those cryptic symbols, standing for Gani’s passion for journalistic excellence. It was a value he apparently believed strongly enough in to painstakingly go through every issue of the Inquirer and point out errors, failings, and, to be fair, excellent layouts and headlines.
As an Inquirer employee who doesn’t have to report to the office, I was part of a small group clustered under the “Office of the Publisher.” As our direct boss, he functioned mainly by leaving us alone, although from time to time I would hear from him, as when he informed me that my column’s frequency was being cut down from five times a week to four times a week. “That’s fine,” I told him, “as long as you don’t cut my compensation.” He replied: “Oh, I forgot to tell you, your salary’s being cut in half.” He was kidding, of course, and it was always easy to tell with Gani. He had a deadpan tone of voice and poker face, but he would punctuate such a statement with a soft laugh.
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It was easy to underestimate Gani. He was invariably soft-spoken, and spiced his statements, even criticisms, with jokes and puns.
When the Inquirer was in the midst of the Erap boycott drive, he took on the role of spokesperson, appearing on TV with visual aids not just to defend the newspaper but also to assail that administration’s creeping attack on press freedom. It was amazing to watch him overcome his shyness and take on vocal critics and skeptical hosts.
And in the industry, he led thoughtful discussions and seminars on the state of the media, most notably in the annual “Media Nation” talkathon. It was here where, with Vergel Santos of BusinessWorld, he became one of the gathering’s “grey eminences,” lending their status in leading often heated discussions on the role of the media in our fractious society. By leaving us, Gani leaves the profession orphaned of an inspiring leader and a quiet voice for change.
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Taxes on cigarettes and liquor have been called “sin taxes” because smoking and drinking are recognized as vices, or sins. And they are sins not just because they are signs of weaknesses—they have been diagnosed as addicting substances, and addiction to them a disease—but also because they pose health hazards not just to smokers and drinkers but to others around them as well. (Think second-hand smoke and drunk driving.)
Raising taxes on “sin products” is perceived as a “painless” way of raising revenue, since cigarettes and liquor are neither necessary for survival nor essential for health (on the contrary, in fact). They are luxury products, and smokers and drinkers should be willing to bear with escalating prices—or stop smoking and/or drinking entirely.
And yet, bills advocating “sin taxes” have met with surprisingly vehement opposition. Foremost of this is, of course, from cigarette and liquor manufacturers and their friends within the legislature. Then there are representatives of tobacco farmers who argue that the poor farmers will lose their source of income if cigarettes are taxed any higher. We are seeing a repeat of this campaign in the fight for the passage of the bill filed by Rep. Joseph Emilio Abaya. The bill, calling for a restructuring of the excise tax on alcohol and tobacco, would, among other things, move from a multi-tiered to a unitary tax system governing both tobacco products and distilled spirits; index taxes to inflation, meaning taxes on these products would be automatically increased yearly to follow inflation; and dedicate the resulting tax income to universal health care and alternative livelihood programs for tobacco farmers.
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Already, the Abaya bill is meeting a firestorm of opposition in the House, and the going is expected to be just as tough, if not tougher, in the Senate. Among the forces arrayed against the bill’s sponsors are the so-called “Northern Bloc” of legislators from Northern Luzon where tobacco farmers are mainly found, and their allies in the local governments; members of the opposition (simply because it is an administration bill?); and advocates of cigarette and liquor manufacturers.
Supporters of the bill range from public health advocates, especially the health community; survivors of smoking-related diseases; and advocates of more rationalized taxation.
The debates over the Abaya bill and over “sin taxes” are expected to heat up even more. The public would do well to listen to all sides of the issue, and weigh the future revenues vis-à-vis added tax burden, the health impacts and costs of alcohol- and tobacco-related diseases vis-à-vis the taxes paid by the industry.
