THERE are two kinds of politicians: those who build, and those who broadcast.
One delivers quietly — projects completed, funds properly used, systems that work. The other thrives on spectacle — press releases, social media drama and a constant need to stay relevant by staying loud.
Executive Secretary Ralph Recto’s statement against Rep. Leandro Leviste is a direct challenge to that second kind.
Because strip away the noise and what are we left with?
On one hand, a record anchored on tangible outputs — roads paved, classrooms built, programs implemented. On the other, a cycle of controversy that feeds on attention but produces very little that can be measured beyond headlines.
This is the uncomfortable truth about modern politics: visibility has become a substitute for value.
The louder you are, the more you are seen. The more you provoke, the more you trend. And in a system addicted to virality, noise can easily be mistaken for leadership.
But governance is not content creation.
You cannot livestream your way into development. You cannot tweet infrastructure into existence. You cannot manufacture results through outrage.
Recto’s line — essentially telling everyone to get back to work — is not just dismissive. It is surgical.
Because it exposes the core weakness of grandstanding: it is empty when measured against outcomes.
And that is where the real comparison lies.
While some are busy generating narratives, others are managing budgets, ensuring releases, and keeping the machinery of government moving. While some are chasing attention, others are delivering services that do not trend but actually matter.
The public should be asking a very simple question: beyond the noise, what has been built?
Not claimed. Not announced. Not promised.
Built.
Because that is the only metric that survives beyond election cycles.
The danger of grandstanding is not just that it distracts — it distorts. It conditions people to believe that visibility equals effectiveness. That if you are always in the conversation, you must be doing something right.
But constant presence is not proof of performance. Often, it is compensation for the lack of it.
Recto’s refusal to engage at the same level of theatrics is, in itself, a statement. It says, governance does not need to shout to be real.
And perhaps that is what unsettles the loudest voices.
Because when the conversation shifts from noise to results, from spectacle to substance, the gap becomes obvious.
And not everyone benefits from that comparison.
***
Speaking of congressman Leviste, had he only delivered on his commitment for an additional 12,000 megawatts of power capacity through his solar projects, he should not have only escaped the P24-billion penalty but we could have also benefited from a lower cost of electricity.
Now, not only do we have to contend with soaring electricity bills — due not only to the increase in distribution cost but also mainly because summer forces us to utilize our cooling systems to full force — but we are also left to deal with a fanatical faction of a political camp reportedly exploiting the issue to sow chaos among the people with the goal of toppling the administration to pave the way for their principal’s takeover.
Sounds crazy, right? But that’s how they have been operating the past few months.
When President Bongbong Marcos (PBBM) exposed the flood control projects anomaly in his State of the Nation Address, his critics tried to turn the table against him by calling for his ouster during the Sept. 21 Trillion Peso March where their group was largely unwelcome.
Days before, they even paraded former Marine Orly Guteza, who named former House speaker Martin Romualdez and PBBM as recipients of his billion-peso deliveries.
On the eve of the originally planned three-day rally of the INC also aimed at calling for accountability, they surfaced a supposed video of former congressman Elizaldy “Zaldy” Co. It was later suspected to be artificial intelligence-generated.
Just hours before the confirmation of charges against former President Rodrigo Duterte, they came out with 18 individuals whom they packaged as former Marines who again claimed they delivered “maletas” of money to PBBM.
In all instances, the claims didn’t hold. Too many loopholes in the statement — from simple address to physical improbability of the allegation.
Having failed, they are now resorting, as professor Edmund Tayao describes it, to fomenting class war.
They are now trying to drive a wedge between the middle class and the lower strata of society (recipients of the 4Ps). First, they questioned why the middle class has to shoulder the lifeline subsidy in electricity bills for the 4Ps beneficiaries.
But in doing so, they put the blame on Meralco, painting it as a PR stunt of the power distributor at the expense of the people. However, when it was explained that Meralco was merely implementing Republic Act (RA) 11552, or the Expanded Lifeline Rate Law, and RA 9136, or the Electric Power Industry Reform Act, and in essence, only acting as a collecting agent of the lifeline subsidy for the government, the fanatical faction of the said political camp shifted tactics, but was still geared toward the class war strategy.
This time utilizing their mean weapon — fake news. They posted a video of a woman holding two electric bills: one amounting to a little over P700, the other amounting to over P7,000, ten times the first bill. Again blaming Meralco, and the administration for supposedly losing control, as manifested by the spiraling cost of fuel and electricity.
However, a closer look at the bills would reveal a different customer account number and that the bills were months apart.
While the attempt at agitating the people to rise against the government fell apart on its own, it only shows how desperate this political camp is. Unfortunately, in its desperation, they are even using innocent bystanders, Meralco included, to further their objective.
Cheap shot.