A new populist tool

LAST WEEK, Laguna Governor Marisol “Sol” Aragones announced a blanket suspension of in-person classes at all levels, shifting all schools — public and private alike — to online learning.

- Jam Magdaleno and Cesar Ilao Ill

The reason? The “possible” occurrence of a strong earthquake within two weeks, following the tremors that recently hit Cebu and Mindanao.

To many parents, the announcement sounded reassuring: better safe than sorry. To students, it meant almost a month of flexible learning, reminiscent of the pandemic experience. To politicians, it was a masterstroke of populist signaling: quick, visible action that pleases an anxious public.

The rush to suspend in-person classes reveals how, in post-pan-demic Philippines, class suspensions have become the new populist tool. What used to be a last-resort response to typhoons and calamities is now wielded as a political reflex, an easy way to appease fearful constituents while avoiding deeper, structural questions.

But what do we mean when we say “populist?” We use the term in its broadest sense: politicians appealing to public sentiment as the highest virtue, while overriding other bases for policy decisions, such as science and data. Populism thrives on a binary framing that leaves little room for nuance.

One familiar refrain captures it well: “Ang klase na mawawala ay maaaring mahabol, ngunit ang buhay ay iisa (One can catch up a missed class, but you only have one life).” Such rhetoric turns complex policy trade-offs into moral absolutes.