THE latest Pulse Asia survey, released on March 16, 2026, is more than a periodic reading of public opinion. It is an early political weather bulletin. And the forecast it offers for President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. is not bright.
At first glance, the numbers may seem merely routine: Marcos posts a “36 percent approval rating against 45 percent disapproval, while his trust rating stands at 35 percent against 44 percent distrust.” Vice President Sara Duterte, by contrast, registers “55 percent approval and 54 percent trust.” Those are not just statistical differences. They are political realities. One leader is operating under a trust deficit. The other continues to sit atop a substantial reserve of public confidence.
To be clear, this does not mean the Marcos presidency is on the verge of collapse. The survey itself suggests some improvement from his previous lows. But in politics, marginal recovery from a poor baseline is not the same thing as political strength. A patient who moves from critical to unstable is still not well. And Marcos’ numbers still show a presidency that has not regained the public’s confidence where it matters most.
This is important because this is not simply about popularity. It is about governing authority heading into the long runway toward 2028. Presidents do not need to be loved to govern effectively. But they do need to be trusted enough to persuade the public that they understand the country’s problems and are capable of addressing them. Right now, the survey suggests that many Filipinos are unconvinced on both counts.
Moreover, the regional breakdown makes the warning even sharper. Sara Duterte’s dominance outside Luzon is not merely impressive; it is politically intimidating. In Mindanao, she commands 95 percent approval, while Marcos manages only 12 percent. In the Visayas, Duterte posts 72 percent approval, compared to Marcos’ 18 percent. These are not ordinary regional variations. They reveal a widening political geography: The Marcos camp may still retain a Luzon-centered establishment universe, but the Duterte brand remains deeply rooted in the Visayas and Mindanao, where emotional loyalty, name recall and populist identification remain exceptionally strong.
Urgent national concerns
But the most important message from the Pulse Asia survey is not really about Marcos or Duterte as political personalities. It is about what Filipinos are telling the political class they actually care about. And the answer is devastating for an administration that has invested so much energy in spectacle, messaging and geopolitical theater.
When asked about the most urgent national concerns, respondents pointed overwhelmingly to controlling inflation (59 percent), fighting corruption (47 percent) and increasing workers’ pay (36 percent). By contrast, defending Philippine territorial integrity registered only 2 percent, while terrorism barely reached 1 percent.
For ordinary Filipinos, the crisis of the moment is not diplomatic choreography abroad. It is not rhetorical chest-thumping over maritime disputes. It is not elite policy jargon dressed up as grand strategy. It is the cost of rice. The price of fuel. The electricity bill. The shrinking value of wages. The unbearable arithmetic of daily life.
And here the Marcos administration runs into its deepest political problem: The government is weakest precisely where the public is most anxious. On issue performance, the administration reportedly faces overwhelming disapproval on inflation (73 percent), corruption (67 percent) and illegal drugs (68 percent). In other words, the public not only thinks these are urgent issues but also that the administration is not handling them well.
This is how presidencies decay. Not always through scandal. Not always through dramatic upheaval. Often through a slow erosion of credibility when the state appears detached from the lived burdens of the people.
Moreover, the Philippines is supposedly entering the symbolic club of upper-middle-income economies, yet it still needs a fresh $800-million loan to keep its economy afloat. This is a picture of contradiction or a development irony: Congratulations, you have moved up a category, now here is another loan because your economy still needs sustaining.
Because what does “upper-middle-income” really mean if ordinary people feel poorer, more insecure and more exposed to shocks than ever? What is the value of statistical graduation if the ground reality feels like permanent distress? If rice is becoming unaffordable, electricity is rising, fuel is surging, wages are stagnant and there’s considerable unemployment, then this celebrated status upgrade begins to look less like national progress and more like a branding exercise. And that is precisely why the president’s reassurance that “everything is normal” sounds so jarring.
Nothing is normal
Rice prices rising above P70 per kilogram in some areas are not normal. Rising electricity charges and higher household power bills are not normal. Oil breaching $100 per barrel, diesel surging and fuel prices escalating in an import-dependent economy are not normal. A peso weakening to around P60 per US dollar is not normal. A stock market plunge wiping out P671.7 billion in value is not normal. A government exploring alternative crude sourcing and preparing emergency tools is certainly not normal. And yet the official line is that everything is normal? This is absurd!
It is understandable that the Marcos administration does not want the people to panic, engage in hoarding or deepen public anxiety. But there is a difference between calming the public and insulting its intelligence. When people are already paying more for food, transport and power, telling them that everything is fine and normal can sound less like leadership and more like denial. Worse, it creates a credibility trap.
Because when official statements drift too far from observable reality, public trust erodes faster. And this is where the Pulse Asia data connect directly to the economic story. Marcos Jr.’s political weakness is not happening in a vacuum. It is being shaped by a public that increasingly believes the government is either unable or unwilling to confront the severity of the economic pressures now bearing down on Filipino households.
Conclusion
The Philippine economy is structurally vulnerable in ways this crisis is now exposing with brutal clarity. It is heavily dependent on imported energy and basic goods like rice. It is significantly reliant on overseas Filipino worker remittances, including a meaningful share from the Middle East. It is consumption-driven, with household spending accounting for much of the gross domestic product. This means the external shock in the Gulf, due to the ongoing war, is no longer external. It is traveling quickly into domestic inflation, exchange-rate pressure, reduced consumer confidence and weaker growth.
Thus, behind the ribbon-cutting language of “upper-middle-income” lies a more sobering truth: The economy remains fragile, debt-dependent and acutely exposed to global turbulence. In that context, the administration’s insistence on normalcy sounds increasingly detached. And this detachment has electoral consequences that will shape the road to 2028.
No doubt, the gathering storm toward 2028 is no longer just about political dynasties, alliances or campaign machinery. It is about whether the public believes this government still understands what is happening to their lives. And a presidency that is steadily losing narrative control as the economy tightens, trust weakens and the public mood shifts from patience to judgment.
