The age of performance: Tote bag politicians

A curious, almost playful trend has been making its way through Gen Z: the rise of the performative man. (So ubiquitous, in fact, that it even inspired a satirical contest in New York.) Yesterday, while out with my 17-year-old son and his friend at an obscure café in Makati, I couldn't help but notice how quickly the archetype revealed itself. Call it the curse of being a chronically online millennial, | knew the moment those two sharp-tongued teens spotted the crowd, they'd have something to say.

- By MAC BERGANTIN

You've seen him, too. Tote bag slung over one shoulder, matcha latte in hand, wired headphones dangling as if they were part of his uniform. He probably journals. He might collect vinyl, though he doesn’t own a player. He posts about “feminism,” but wears it like a costume rather than a conviction.

By definition, the performative man is more concerned with looking good than actually being good. It is less about substance and more about appearance, less about who he is and more about how he can lure attention, especially from women. His look, his habits, even his curated softness are all part of a carefully constructed performance.

But if you think performativity ends at the café, look again. The Philippines has long been home to its own kind of performers — our politicians. Only they do not carry tote bags. They carry the nation’s budget.

The latest theater is the sudden outrage over flood control projects. Billions of pesos have been poured into these programs year after year, across administrations. Yet every time the rains come, the same images return: families wading through waist-deep water, motorists stranded, children carrying school bags above their heads as if survival itself were an Olympic sport.