I am writing this as I am turning 56. I was born on July 19, 1970. And on my birthday this year, there’s a projected rally in the Philippines organized by a coalition known as the United People’s Initiative (UPI) against systemic government corruption.
Upgrade Innolab, Inc. President Richard Day shared a sweet message on Facebook as a way of celebrating me on my birthday: “Thank you for sharing your joy with those who are still searching for their own. Living a principled life is never easy, but you have guarded yours beautifully.”
It is such a wonderful message that it moved me to reflect on my unorganizable and unbribable life. As a response, I am sharing my reflections with Richard and his generation of changemakers through this special birthday edition column.
My idealism is tinged with an immediate, sharp disgust for organized blocs. I was raised in cynicism and my foundational worldview is that reality and official narrative are rarely the same thing. I realized early on that ideologies were just competing for the driver’s seat of the same broken car.
I am too radical for the conservatives and too establishment for the radicals. I am, effectively, unorganizable. And in a political culture built on the patronage system, where loyalty is bought, sold, and packaged like a seasonal commodity, I am unbribable.
I grew up during several oil crises and steep devaluations of the peso. I’m an only child of my solo parent of a mother who was too busy surviving to hover over me so I learned to fend for myself early. She told me to stop waiting for my father to come back and that no one was coming to save us.
This bred a deep, almost pathological self-reliance. When a corrupt official offers me a deal, I do not feel gratitude, I feel danger. A corrupt patron offers security in exchange for loyalty, but I never learned to rely on patrons. I relied on my own wits. You cannot buy a person who has never truly believed in the safety of a safety net.
Corruption preys on insecurity. The corrupt offer not just money, but validation. They make you feel important. They make you feel chosen. They make you feel like you are finally part of the club. That is why the most vulnerable targets are often those who have been overlooked, marginalized, or desperate for recognition.
To be incorruptible, you have to be already at peace with who you are. You do not need the system to validate you. You have an internal compass that is stronger than any external reward. This self-worth is not arrogance; it is a quiet, stubborn knowledge that you are enough — without the envelope, without the title, without the patron’s approval.
I learned this young. Growing up under Martial Law, I watched the adults in my life navigate a world where speaking the truth could get you killed. They taught me, through their whispers, that integrity was not a luxury; it was survival. I internalized that lesson. By the time I was an adult, I already knew that I would rather be poor and free than rich and owned.
The corrupt also offer narratives. They tell you that this time, it is different. But you have heard that before. You have watched too many “reformers” become “trapos.” So to be unbribable you have to be inoculated against flattery because they know, in their bones, that no one is immune to the seduction of power, unless they actively resist it. So try very hard not to believe your own press release.
Corruption is a closed loop. It relies on a network of mutual obligation — people who owe each other favors, who protect each other, who share the same secrets. To corrupt someone, you must first bring them into the loop. You must make them dependent on the network.
To be incorruptible, you need to maintain a social network outside the system. You have friends, colleagues, and allies who are not part of the patronage machine. You have relationships built on trust, not on transactions. Have a life beyond politics.
I have always made sure of this. My closest friends are not politicians; they are journalists, teachers, doctors, entrepreneurs, innovators, farmers, peacebuilders and community organizers. When the system tries to pull me into its orbit, I have a gravitational anchor elsewhere. I am not easily captured because I already belong somewhere else.
Have a sense of historical accountability. The corrupt often think in the short term. They ask, “What can I get today?” What can I keep for myself?” They do not consider the long arc of history. The incorruptible person thinks in generations. They ask, “What will my grandchildren say about me? What will historians write? What will be the legacy of my choices?”
Richard noted “sharing (my) joy” and I realize now this capacity for quiet joy is a very important trait to have to be unbribable. The corrupt are often miserable. They are trapped in a cycle of fear, greed, and paranoia. They cannot trust anyone because they themselves are untrustworthy. They are lonely. They are anxious. They are never satisfied.
Incorruptible people have found joy outside the system. They have hobbies. They have relationships. They have meaning. They do not need the rush of power or the comfort of money because they have already found contentment elsewhere.
I have my local peacebuilding work. I have my food and refill revolution. I have my cooperative. I have service and fellowship with Rotary. I have Davao Historical Society. These are not grand achievements but they bring me joy. They connect me to my community. They remind me why I do this work. When the system offers me a deal, I ask myself: “Will this deal bring me joy? Or will it rob me of the joy I already have?” The answer is always the same. The system cannot buy me because I have already bought into something else.
But the most important lesson I have learned is this: no one is born incorruptible. Incorruptibility is not a personality trait; it is a practice. It is a daily, deliberate choice to resist the subtle seductions of power. It is a muscle that must be exercised often.
I am not incorruptible because I am morally superior. I am incorruptible because I have trained myself to be. I have said “no” so many times that it has become a reflex. I have surrounded myself with people who hold me accountable. I have built systems that make it harder for me to be corrupted. I have made my integrity structural, not just personal.
If you want to be difficult to corrupt, do not rely on willpower alone. Build systems. Build relationships. Build a life that is already full. Make it harder for the system to buy you — not because you are strong, but because you have made yourself unavailable.
The secret to incorruptibility is to build a life that is already richer than any transaction the system can offer — a family that loves you, a community that trusts you, a purpose that sustains you, and a history that reminds you of who you are and what you stand for. So my advice is to design your life to be richer and fuller than anything money can buy. That’s how you “guard it beautifully.”
