There have been talks on how to decongest densely populated cities in the aftermath of the COVID-19 lockdown, with legislators quick to make proposals seemingly from a magician’s hat.
First, Sen. Bong Go resurrected the “Balik Probinsya” program. Other senators soon chimed in and put their stamp of approval. It was met with so much aplomb that Executive Order No. 114 (Balik Probinsya, Bagong Pag-Asa) was created faster than anyone could say “COVID-19.” Then Surigao del Norte Rep. Robert “Ace” Barbers proposed a bill limiting the maximum number of residents per barangay to 15,000.
Not bad, guys. Gold star for your quick reactions. For coming up with carefully deliberated policies that won’t have massive ramifications—well, the jury’s still out.
While those proposals might have sounded good, genius even, during a late-night brainstorming session, they just don’t hold up in the light of day. Those initiatives might help decongest Metro Manila and complement the ongoing physical distancing measures in the short term. But like other policies that have been put forth recently, these two are knee-jerk, stop-gap measures that will surely bite the country’s proverbial ass sooner rather than later.
Sure, EO 114 looks good on paper. If the rural diaspora bites and heads back to the country, the population density of Metro Manila and outlying areas will be reduced. By proxy, physical distancing will also be easier to enforce. Less people, more space between them. Heck, it might even solve the perpetual traffic problem in those areas. But what will happen when migrant workers return to their hometowns? Are there jobs waiting for them? Is there enough space there, or has the province become overcrowded as well? What will happen to provinces that have managed to preserve their pristine environment when people start flocking in droves to reside there? It seems like the proponents of a return to the provinces forgot to ask these questions. Because, while tackling high population density is a terrific thing, the key is to simultaneously decongest such areas without congesting others.
Limiting the maximum carrying capacity of a barangay also sounds like a good idea. If that were the case now, maybe the people who needed the social amelioration package would have already received it. But what will happen to barangays that have more than 15,000 people? Will the surplus populace be forced out and relocated to other barangays with fewer people? What will happen to their homes? If they won’t be relocated, what will be done so the barangay doesn’t pass the threshold? Will new barangays be created? Is there space for new ones, or are borders just going to be redrawn without considering land area?
If there’s anything we can all learn from this pandemic, it’s that we need to be creative and quick in finding solutions, solutions that were needed yesterday. But there’s also a need for cautious discernment, so that whatever policies come out of the mouths of legislators and policymakers at least seem like they’ve been vetted instead of just plucked out of thin air.
Now is also the time for them to think long-term; see the big picture, rather than have a myopic view. Politicians should be in it for the long haul.
And speaking of long haul, here’s something to consider: population control. Let the term linger for a bit. Yes, it looms large and it’s contentious, but if there’s anything that just might help the Philippines solve its numerous problems, that just might be it. Let the conversation begin.
Jonas Canizares,jonascanizares@gmail.com