SO BINI, the all-female Pinoy Pop (P-Pop) group, got official recognition from the Senate of the Philippines for being the first Filipino act to perform at Coachella. And the internet is buzzing.
Our local artists are saying recognition is nice, but we need cash. As in a serious investment in developing and supporting local talents and art programs in schools and communities. Yes, dear Senators, how about putting your (actually, our) money where your mouths are?
The Philippine government is not really supportive of the arts. Our national arts agencies get a tiny budget, and it is inconsistent through the years. The National Commission for Culture and the Arts (NCCA) is the government’s main policy-making and grants-giving body for culture and the arts. Their budget for competitive grants in 2025 was only P133 million, which is 0.002 percent of the national budget of P6.352 trillion.
The government is also pushing for the development of our creative industries. The Department of Trade and Industry (DTI), the agency tasked to lead this push, requested P500 million to support creative industries, but only P50 million, or 10 percent, was approved. This was despite a 2023 Philippine Statistics Authority (PSA) study showing the creative economy contributed a significant 7.1 percent to the country’s Gross Domestic Product (GDP).
The situation is similar for arts education within the Department of Education (DepEd). Out of its P793.1 billion budget in 2025, only P110.6 million was allocated for the Philippine High School for the Arts. The Special Program in the Arts for secondary schools has a P500,000 subsidy set in 2009, and it’s not clear if this amount has increased since then.
So why do our politicians choose to build a useless flood control structure rather than pay for a school choir? Essentially, there are two reasons why they starve the arts:
One is the “profit or nothing” mindset. Even in countries like the Philippines, the capitalist market logic seeps into everything. Government will ask: “Does this program make money?” If the answer is no, they move on.
Arts do not create immediate cash. A children’s theater workshop is not very impressive on an accomplishment report. A public poetry reading cannot be taxed. A dance performance cannot be put on a tarp with your face and name on it. Never mind that arts give kids a reason to stay in school, reduce crime, and boost tourism. No short-term profit? No funding. It is the capitalist logic.
The second reason is corruption. Corruption loves big, boring projects. You can inflate the price in a road contract, hire your cousin’s fake company, and pocket the difference. A new government building? Same modus.
But try to steal from a community arts grant — it’s too small, too visible, and too embarrassing. So corrupt officials simply do not create arts programs in the first place. Or if they do, they fund them so poorly that nothing actually happens. Then they would say that art programs have no impact to justify why they won’t get funding.
Together, capitalism and corruption create a perfect trap. Capitalism says arts don’t pay, while corruption says arts aren’t worth stealing. And the artists? They get nothing,
Oh, and there’s more excuse! We are too poor for the arts. “We have hungry children. Shouldn’t we spend on food instead of a dance class?”
It’s a fair question. But here’s the twist: arts are incredibly cheap compared to almost everything else the government does.
Let’s compare a single arts grant to a typical government infrastructure project. One kilometer of road costs P50-100 million, and though it may reduce travel time, the benefits are uneven. One rural health center is P15-30 million. It saves lives but still requires staff and supplies. One year of a community arts program costs P200,000 to P1 million. It promotes youth engagement, tourism, mental health, and pride.
Arts deliver huge social returns for tiny investments. And in poor communities, the arts provide something priceless — hope, identity, and a reason to show up at school. With a small amount of money required, the social, educational, and economic returns are enormous
The real reason the arts are underfunded is not poverty. It is a priority. And priorities are shaped by who shouts loudest.
So how do we change this without becoming loud politicians ourselves?
We can organize and build a coalition of everyone who benefits from a livelier, safer, more creative city. That’s how we get political muscle. Let’s start with schools. Parents have power. We can organize a “Friends of Arts Education” group at our local schools. We can demand that 5% (or any small fixed percentage) of the school’s operating budget goes to art supplies, visiting artists, or a music teacher. We can also ask the Local School Board to allocate a fixed amount for the arts.
We can demand unique, small, transparent pots of money. Instead of asking for a giant “Department of Culture” budget (which will get stolen anyway), ask for specific, tiny, hard-to-steal funds.
For example, a “1% for the Arts” rule on every government construction project. Build a new building? One percent goes to a performance space. Build a new bridge? One percent goes to a mural or a sculpture created by local artists. Then create a public online tracking ledger to track every peso.
While waiting for the city to set up the Endowment Fund for Culture and Arts, let’s pilot a local, citizen-run arts fund — everyone chips in a small amount. Then it will be matched with a small local tax (part of the amusement tax, for example) or a business sponsorship. Then give money directly to artists for specific projects, like painting a mural on the health center or conducting a cartooning workshop for out-of-school youth. When money flows straight to the artist, nobody gets a chance to steal it. Then expand the model.
Then let’s shame the thieves — creatively. This can be fun instead of just the usual rallies or marches. Let us use art itself to fight graft. Commission a local playwright to write a short comedy about a corrupt official who steals from a children’s orchestra. Perform it at our parks. Film it and share it on social media. Make corruption shameful again. Make arts funding a noble and heroic thing to do. When the people laugh at and mock the corrupt villain, politicians will suddenly discover a love for the arts.
The P133 million allotted for NCCA’s competitive grants program for 115 million Filipinos is not even a tiny fraction of our politicians’ confidential funds and unprogrammed funds. That is about P1.15 per person per year investment for culture and the arts. One peso – the cost of a single text message. Even if they tripled the arts funding overnight, it would barely reach P50 per person, still less than a fast-food meal.
The underfunding of arts programs in a corrupt government is not because of tight budgets. It is a structural feature. Arts programs are difficult to steal at scale, so they don’t bother.
As citizens, we must demand that Senate resolutions are worthless unless significant public investment is made in culture and arts and the creative industries.
