IN the middle of a legislative proceeding, Rep. Jesus “Bong” Suntay publicly narrated how he felt a desire toward Anne Curtis, a female celebrity, describing how he “nag-init talaga” and imagined “kung anong pwedeng mangyari.” He then casually added that surely he could not be sued for what he merely imagined.
The remarks were delivered in an official setting, using the authority and platform of public office. The reaction inside the chamber was swift. His colleagues found the statements improper and ordered them stricken from the official record.
That alone should have signaled a boundary had been crossed.
Instead of reflection, however, what followed initially was defiance, and later an insincere apology only because of strong condemnation from an enraged public. Suntay insisted he did nothing wrong. He has framed the issue as one of overreaction, suggesting that he only described his imagination.
And this is happening in March, which we celebrate as Women’s Month, when we reaffirm our commitment to protect women against gender-based violence.
The issue is not whether a person privately experiences attraction. Human beings have thoughts and impulses. The law does not police private imagination.
But when a public official chooses to articulate sexual arousal about a specific woman in a formal proceeding, the matter shifts from private cognition to public conduct.
The moment Suntay spoke, it ceased to be about imagination. It became a speech. And speech, especially from those in power, carries consequences.
Under Republic Act 11313, or the Safe Spaces Act, gender-based sexual harassment is not limited to physical contact. The law explicitly covers sexist, misogynistic and sexually suggestive remarks. It includes statements that objectify a person or reduce them to a sexualized body. It penalizes acts that create an intimidating, hostile or offensive environment.
The threshold is not whether the speaker claims “I was just joking” or “I was just imagining.” The standard is whether the conduct is unwelcome and whether it contributes to a culture of objectification and harassment.
In workplaces, schools, streets and online platforms, a man publicly declaring sexual arousal toward a named woman, and inviting others to visualize what “could happen,” would fall squarely within what many institutions define as verbal sexual harassment.
Power aggravates the offense. When the speaker is a lawmaker, the implications become even more troubling. Members of Congress craft laws meant to protect citizens, including women, from abuse and harassment. They are expected to model the standards they legislate.
When a legislator displays ignorance, or worse, indifference, toward what gender-based sexual harassment entails, it undermines both the spirit and the credibility of the law.
Suntay’s defense rests on a narrow technicality: that he cannot be punished for thoughts inside his head. But the Safe Spaces Act is not about criminalizing thoughts. It is about regulating conduct in shared spaces. Once a sexualized comment is uttered in a public forum, it becomes part of the social environment. It shapes norms. It signals what is acceptable.
Public institutions are not locker rooms. The fact that the majority of his peers struck the remarks from the record is significant. Parliamentary bodies do not lightly expunge statements. When words are removed, it is because they violate decorum or exceed the bounds of acceptable discourse.
Yet even that institutional correction has not prompted introspection. Instead, we see doubling down and a “non-apology” apology. This is what makes the episode more than a fleeting controversy. It reveals a deeper problem: a persistent misunderstanding of what gender-based harassment looks like in practice.
Many still imagine sexual harassment as something dramatic — physical assault, coercion, explicit threats. But modern legal frameworks recognize that harassment often begins with language. It begins with normalization of objectification. It begins with laughter and dismissal.
A woman does not have to be physically touched to be disrespected. She does not have to be present in the room for her dignity to be diminished.
When a powerful man publicly narrates his sexual arousal about her, the message to other women is clear: your bodies are open for commentary; your existence is subject to male imagination; your discomfort is secondary to male expression.
That is precisely the culture the Safe Spaces Act sought to dismantle.
Some may argue that the target of the remark is a public figure. But celebrity does not nullify rights. Visibility does not erase dignity. The law does not create a hierarchy of women, those entitled to protection and those exempt because they are famous.
Women’s Month is meant to celebrate progress and reaffirm commitments. Yet episodes like this remind us how fragile those commitments remain. The greater danger lies not in one inappropriate comment but in the casualness with which it is defended. Suntay even quipped that Anne Curtis should even be flattered.
When lawmakers themselves fail to grasp the meaning of gender-based sexual harassment, enforcement becomes hollow. Policies become symbolic gestures rather than living protections. Ignorance at the top inevitably cascades downward into institutions that take their cues from political leadership.
Public office demands restraint. The House’s justice committee’s decision to strike the remarks from the record was a minimal corrective measure. But accountability requires more than procedural housekeeping. It requires acknowledgment that harm can occur through language. It requires understanding that leadership entails modeling respect.
We cannot simultaneously celebrate Women’s Month and trivialize sexual objectification in legislative halls.
The question is not whether Suntay can be criminally prosecuted for imagination. The question is whether Congress will insist that its members embody the standards embedded in the laws they pass. That standard will be tested when Suntay faces the ethics committee, now that the matter has been referred to it, and an ethics complaint has been filed.
Because if lawmakers dismiss sexually suggestive commentary as harmless fantasy, they signal to every office, school and workplace in the country that boundaries are optional.
And that is a far more serious offense than one man’s so-called imagination.
Antonio P. Contreras, PhD, is a professor at the University of the Philippines Los Baños and vice chairman of the state-run PTV Network Inc. The views expressed here are his own and do not necessarily reflect those of the institutions he is affiliated with.