The Senate’s public hearings on confidential and intelligence funds have again placed one uncomfortable question under the spotlight: how can money meant for secret operations be scrutinized without exposing the very operations it is supposed to protect? Watching the debate, I find myself shaking my head at how quickly complex issues are reduced to slogans. My view is simple: secrecy in intelligence work is legitimate, but its budget should not be pocketed by concerned officials.
The first thing that strikes me is how different intelligence work is from ordinary government transactions. Intelligence gathering is not like buying office chairs, repairing roads, or constructing classrooms. It often involves informants whose lives could be endangered if their identities become known, covert surveillance, undercover operations, and rapidly changing situations where paper trails can compromise both missions and people. That reality cannot simply be wished away by demanding that every peso be accompanied by publicly displayed receipts and signatures. Intelligence agencies around the world operate under confidentiality for precisely that reason.
At the same time, I also think it is a mistake to jump to the opposite extreme and conclude that confidentiality means there should be no oversight at all. That is where many discussions lose their balance. The public has every right to expect that public funds are spent lawfully, honestly, and for their intended purpose. The difference is that accountability for intelligence spending is usually carried out through specialized oversight mechanisms rather than through complete public disclosure of operational details. Those two ideas—confidentiality and accountability—are not enemies. They are partners that must learn to coexist.
But this principle should not just apply to the vice president, who is currently being subjected to impeachment proceedings on accusations of intelligence and confidential funds misuse. It should likewise apply to all those high-ranking government officials with similar confidential funds, including the president. To single out VP Sara Duterte in this inquiry defeats the purpose of ensuring transparency among government officials and the agencies and departments they represent.
What I cannot help smiling at, though, is the assumption that intelligence work should leave behind the same kind of documentary footprint as a routine procurement. It reminds me of expecting a stage magician to reveal every trick before the audience applauds. Once the method is exposed, the performance is over. Intelligence operations survive because certain details remain concealed. Revealing operational receipts, identities, payment channels, or locations can defeat the very objective for which confidential funds were authorized in the first place.
Still, calling everyone who asks questions “stupid” or “moronic” does not improve the discussion. Some people ask because they genuinely want assurance that taxpayers’ money is protected. Others ask because they misunderstand how intelligence operations function. Ignorance is best answered with explanation, not ridicule. Likewise, those defending confidential funds should not dismiss every concern as an attack, just as critics should not assume that secrecy automatically proves wrongdoing. Serious issues deserve serious conversations.
I have always believed that common sense is often a better guide than loud arguments. If intelligence work were conducted with complete public transparency, many operations would cease to be intelligence operations at all. Informants would disappear, criminal networks would adapt, hostile actors would change tactics, and sensitive investigations could collapse before they even mature. Yet common sense also tells me that a democratic government cannot simply say, “Trust us,” and expect questions to vanish. Trust grows stronger when independent institutions are empowered to verify what the public cannot safely see.
What frustrates me most is how public debates sometimes become contests of absolutes. One camp wants every document opened to everyone, while another seems content with almost no scrutiny. Reality usually lives somewhere between those poles. Effective oversight does not necessarily require broadcasting operational secrets to the entire nation. It requires competent, lawful, and independent review by those authorized to examine classified expenditures while protecting legitimate national security interests. That balance is difficult, but difficulty is no excuse for abandoning it.
I am convinced that intelligence and confidential funds exist because some government functions cannot be performed under the full glare of publicity. That is neither unusual nor inherently suspicious. Yet secrecy should always be matched by credible oversight, even if that oversight happens behind closed doors rather than before television cameras. We should pursue neither blind suspicion nor blind trust, but a system that protects both national security and the public’s confidence that every peso is ultimately subject to lawful accountability.
Just a wish
President Ferdinand Marcos Jr.’s announcement that system losses would be removed from consumers’ electricity bills immediately caught public attention. But that proposal deserves careful scrutiny rather than automatic applause. Without a clear implementation plan, such a promise remains difficult to measure and evaluate.
System loss charges have long been one of the most criticized items in electricity bills because consumers often feel they are paying for losses that are beyond their control. Any commitment to remove this burden would naturally be welcomed by households and businesses struggling with rising living costs. Yet a major policy declaration should be accompanied by a detailed explanation of how it will be carried out, what legal changes are required, and when consumers can expect to see the promised relief. Public confidence is built not by applause during a speech but by specific measures that can be examined and verified.
Another question concerns the financial consequences of eliminating the charge. If electric distribution utilities are no longer allowed to recover system loss costs from consumers, someone else will ultimately bear that expense. Unless the companies themselves absorb the losses, the government may need to provide subsidies or establish another funding mechanism. That raises an obvious concern: where will the money come from? Without identifying a sustainable source of funding, the proposal risks becoming a promise that proves difficult to fulfill in practice.
Supporters of the administration may argue that the government can negotiate with the power sector and introduce reforms that reduce consumer costs. Critics, however, question whether the administration is willing or able to confront large and influential business interests if such reforms significantly affect their revenues. Those concerns reflect a broader debate over the political resolve required to implement policies that impose costs on powerful stakeholders. Whether that skepticism is justified will ultimately be judged by concrete government action rather than by speeches or public approval.
The public deserves more than encouraging announcements. It deserves a complete policy, a realistic timetable, transparent financing, and measurable results that can be independently verified. If the administration intends to remove system loss charges from electricity bills, it should immediately present the legislative, regulatory, and fiscal roadmap needed to make that commitment a reality. Until then, cautious scrutiny remains the most responsible response to a promise that carries significant consequences for consumers, the power industry, and the national budget.