I am not, generally speaking, a very tolerant man. But of all the things that rouse my ire, I reserve a special, searing hatred for the wang-wang.

My favorite wang-wang anecdote concerns the mad-cap journey of one particular convoy of official vehicles that a friend had the bad luck to witness. All the vehicles had their windows done up in the always trendy opaque tint which reflect dully the red flashes of their sirens. While most of us would automatically assume that the beneficiary of such royal treatment was a high-ranking politician, it turned out that this particular convoy was bearing a famous hairdresser who had presumably been summoned to deal with a fashion emergency of great national significance.

I know that I am not alone in feeling this way; the Inquirer ran an editorial last April denouncing the wang-wang culture of our government officials. In an age when grainy videos of consensual coitus can ensnare the attention of media and government for days, I am fairly certain the matter could do with a bit more exposure (pun unintended) and a lot more indignation.

The Inquirer editorial asked government officials to ?reconsider the sense of entitlement, the sense of inflated dignity they display.? But making that plea, I am afraid, only plays to the sanctified image government officials have created for themselves. To my mind, a reduction of the egos of our ?public servants? is not a boon that we should request, but a demand we should make.

From the way they conduct their affairs, one would be forgiven for thinking that our highest officials do not owe us anything. When one looks at the tarpaulin banners stretched across our thoroughfares and gazes at the dazzling smiles of Congresswoman What?s-Her-Name and Councilor So-and-So, one would think that we, the citizens, owed them a debt of gratitude for their wonderful projects, and timely greetings (complete with badly photo-shopped graduation caps or Santa hats, as the case may be). They project themselves as magnanimous benefactors, showering us with job fairs and flu vaccinations and only expecting in return our thanks and praise. Which seems like a fair exchange?until one realizes that they are behaving like a pilot who expects to be given a ticker-tape parade every time he is able to land the plane without anyone dying.

What many of our ?public servants? seem to have forgotten is that it is their job to serve the public. More to the point, they have forgotten (if they ever even realized it) that it is we, the citizens, who have hired them to do those jobs. We are the ones who select them, we are the ones who pay them, and we are the ones who get to tell them when to get out.

Let me repeat: They work for us?all of them, from the lowest functionary to the President herself, whether we voted for them or not, whether we agree with them or not.

But it has become increasingly difficult to find a government official who does not believe and act like he (or she) and his entire family are entitled to his current position (if not a higher one) simply by reason of his identity. If you ever had a run-in with a high level official (or a member of his extended family), chances are the first thing you will hear is some variation of the following, coupled with a confident sneer: ?Don?t you know who I am??

To which, I suggest, the most appropriate retort would be: ?I do?but you have obviously forgotten.?

And indeed they have forgotten their role, forgotten their duty, forgotten their place. In this topsy-turvy world that they have created, this perpetual ?Opposite Day? that we have allowed them to create, they are our rulers instead of our servants; our masters instead of our aides. They do not think of themselves as accountable to us, they do not think they owe us their time, or their candor, or even their presence at their place of work. And because they think they are not accountable to us, they do not respect us and they do not fear us.

If we are to have the government we deserve, this must change.

In other countries, we can already see the writing on the wall. In 2006, a leading United States politician was brought low because he was filmed insulting a man with a racial slur. In Iran we have seen a muffled populace rise up and break the state-imposed silence with the help of social media and a sympathetic international community. A major British newspaper now provides an online platform in which British citizens can audit the digital records of allowance claims filed by the members of Parliament. The Internet and mobile technologies have unleashed a capacity for speech and participation previously limited by economic and logistical constraints.

However, technology will prove unavailing for as long as we citizens continue to view ourselves as supplicants instead of supervisors and continue to endure the kind of arrogance of ?public servants? that we would never take from complete strangers, never mind our own employees. We should not accept it as a fact of life when politicians refuse to answer questions on matters of public interest or take positions without prior consultation with their constituents, or, indeed, inconvenience other motorists simply because they need their hairdressers at a particular time.

We have already seen the silence of the bedroom violated. With the arrival of camera phones and 24/7 mobile Internet, the time is fast approaching when secret backroom deals will be revealed to the public.

Our political leaders may not fear us now. But soon they will.

(Paolo Chikiamco, 29, is a lawyer who recently resigned from a top law firm to pursue a career in writing and publishing.)