Beyond Moralism: Patronage as a Structural Problem in Philippine Democracy

Introduction

Every election season in the Philippines, the same thing happens over and over again. I’ve seen it myself: candidates going around poor neighborhoods handing out cash, medicine, groceries. Barangay captains make these lists of voters who are expecting “assistance.” People writing angry posts online about how democracy is dying. In Metro Manila’s informal settlements, I’ve watched residents queue up at politicians’ offices, asking for help with medical bills or funeral expenses, while newspapers and my own Facebook feed are full of people condemning this as proof that our democracy is broken. This whole familiar scene shows something I’ve been wrestling with for a while now: is vote-buying and patronage just corruption that needs to be stopped, or is it actually a rational survival strategy that’s embedded in much deeper problems?

On one hand, a lot of people, and I used to think this way too, argue that vote-buying is simply corruption that ruins democratic principles and lets unqualified candidates win. From this view, the solution seems obvious: voter education, stricter laws, and getting people to understand their civic responsibility to vote based on who’s actually qualified instead of who gives them stuff. This perspective is pretty common among the educated middle class, what I’ll call the “civic sphere” (people like me, honestly), who really value transparency and good governance. Vote-buying gets framed as this moral failure that needs fixing.

But then there’s the other side. Some argue that vote-buying and patronage have to be understood as practical responses to poverty and the fact that our democratic institutions have completely failed to address what poor people actually need. Kusaka¹, who’s done a lot of research on this, says that the “mass sphere” (the impoverished majority) “views these illegal activities as essential for survival and dignity” and does them not because they’re ignorant, but as a kind of “everyday resistance” against a system that’s never provided for their basic needs. According to this view, condemning vote-buying without actually addressing poverty and inequality is what Kusaka calls “civic exclusivism”, where we in the middle class just impose our moral framework on the poor while completely ignoring why they do what they do.

My own view is somewhere uncomfortable between both of these, and it’s been bugging me for a long time. I think vote-buying and patronage systems are rational responses to how things are, but they also perpetuate the very inequalities that make them necessary in the first place. I’ll admit that individual instances of vote-buying do technically break election laws, and that patronage networks help keep elite power in place by making poor people dependent on individual politicians instead of demanding universal services. But I still think that framing this mainly as a moral or legal problem completely misses the point and leads to solutions that don’t actually work. How we think about the problem determines what we try to fix, and we need to move past both the civic sphere’s ineffective moralism and a purely structural analysis that just leaves us paralyzed.

This essay examines three dimensions of patronage politics: first, why the civic sphere’s moral framework fails; second, how vote-buying functions as survival strategy in the mass sphere; and third, why both perspectives miss the circular trap that requires strategic intervention beyond moralism alone.

The Civic Sphere’s Moral Framework

To understand why the usual approach to vote-buying doesn’t work, we need to look at how people in the civic sphere actually think about the problem. In the Philippines, this civic sphere is basically people who speak primarily in English, live in gated communities or high-rise condos, work professional jobs, and talk a lot about “policy-based debate,” “accountability,” “transparency,” and “rule of law.” This is roughly 10% of the country and maybe 25% of Metro Manila. For this group, vote-buying represents everything that’s wrong with Philippine democracy.

The civic sphere’s critique focuses on this idea that poor people lack the education and moral framework to participate properly in politics. As one middle-class voter explained in Kusaka’s (2018) research, “The masses do not actually select a candidate, but merely jump on the winner’s bandwagon. Also, they take whatever the politicians offer them. That is not the right behavior.” This perspective says that corrupt politicians exploit ignorant poor voters, who sell their votes for a few hundred pesos without realizing they’re perpetuating the system that oppresses them. Garrido² argues that this gets reinforced by what he calls a “moral geography” in Manila, where the physical separation between gated communities and slums makes the middle class view the poor as this “dissolute” mass that threatens democratic order.

So what has the civic sphere done about this? Two main things. First, organizations like the Parish Pastoral Council for Responsible Voting (PPCRV) and the National Citizens’ Movement for Free Elections (NAMFREL) run these extensive voter education programs, teaching poor people to “vote wisely” based on candidates’ qualifications instead of handouts. These programs emphasize universal values like honesty, integrity, and service to the nation. Second, some civic sphere advocates have actually proposed restricting voting rights, requiring voters to be taxpayers, to pass competency tests, or even to exclude informal settlers from voting entirely.

But here’s the thing that really bothers me: this approach treats the symptom while completely ignoring the disease. When civic sphere people respond to vote-buying with calls for voter education or tighter voting restrictions, they’re basically saying poor people are deficient citizens who need to be corrected or excluded. This just makes what Kusaka¹ calls the “moral division of the nation” worse. This class antagonism where the middle class sees poor people’s political participation as threatening, while poor people see the middle class as callous and out of touch with their actual lives. And honestly? Voter education programs have mostly failed because they don’t address why people do these things in the first place.

Survival Strategies in the Mass Sphere

The alternative way of looking at this, which Wataru Kusaka¹ explains through his research in Manila’s informal settlements, says we need to understand vote-buying from the perspective of poor people themselves. It’s rational economic behavior and maybe even a form of resistance in what Kusaka calls the “mass sphere,” the living and talking space of Classes D and E, who speak primarily in Tagalog and make up roughly 90% of the Philippine population.

For people living in Manila’s squatter settlements, life is precarious in ways I can’t fully understand. I’ve only ever seen it myself when I had the experience of walking in the slums of Tondo, but never truly lived it myself. They face constant threats of forced eviction, have no access to decent healthcare or education, work without labor protections, and have to deal with daily crises like family illnesses, funerals, floods, and fires with basically no safety nets. In this context, the few hundred or thousand pesos they get during election season might actually be a more tangible benefit than they’ve ever gotten from government services, no matter who wins. As one of Kusaka’s (2018) informants explained, “Life is hard for me, so I can’t turn down money. Money is a big help to poor people, so we have no choice but to accept it, even if we’re being bought off. We know it’s wrong, but our poverty wins out.” This is what Frederic Charles Schaffer³ identifies as a conflict of “meanings”: while reformers see a legal violation, poor people often see the exchange through a lens of “dignity” and social security in an otherwise indifferent system.

Kusaka¹ argues this should be understood not as ignorance but as “everyday resistance” against a system that has consistently failed to provide basic needs. Poor people are totally aware of the abstract principles of good governance that the civic sphere champions. They share the same distrust of corruption and want honest leaders. But they also recognize that these principles sound pretty hollow when your immediate concern is where your next meal comes from or how to pay for your child’s medical treatment. From their perspective, politicians who help during campaigns, show up at funerals with condolence money, and stay “approachable” (madaling lapitan) are showing they’re “pro-poor” (maka-mahirap) or “kind to people” (maka-tao), which are moral qualities the mass sphere actually values.

This is why the civic sphere’s moral framework is basically what I’d call “luxury morality.” The insistence on abstract principles like rule of law and good governance, while valid, becomes a form of class privilege when you’re directing it at people whose daily struggle is just surviving. For someone choosing between feeding their children today and waiting for the long-term benefits of better governance, the choice isn’t difficult. The civic sphere’s condemnation of vote-buying without addressing these material realities basically amounts to blaming victims for their own oppression. And honestly, that makes me uncomfortable about my own position in all of this.

The Circular Trap of Patronage Politics

However, the truth is that acknowledging that vote-buying is rational from poor people’s perspective doesn’t actually resolve the fundamental problem. This is where both the civic sphere’s moralism and a purely sympathetic structural analysis fall short. Vote-buying and patronage, however rational for individual people in the short term, create this self-perpetuating system that reinforces the very inequalities that make them necessary. This circularity is the core challenge that neither side adequately addresses, and it feels like a trap we can’t escape.

Think about the logic from the politician’s standpoint. Politicians who win office through extensive distribution of cash, services, and personal favors during campaigns need to recoup these investments. They do this through corruption, diverting public funds, and maintaining the very patronage networks that got them elected. John T. Sidel⁴ calls this “bossism,” where local power brokers use their control over the state to monopolize both capital and coercion, making sure the poor remain “clients” instead of independent citizens. More critically, these politicians have zero incentive to build universal public services such as quality healthcare, education, transportation, and social security that would make patronage obsolete. This systemic neglect is what Paul D. Hutchcroft⁵ describes as ‘booty capitalism,’ where the state becomes a site of plunder for powerful elites instead of a provider of public goods. I mean, why would they invest in systems that would make their electoral strategy unnecessary? As Kusaka’s (2018) framework shows, politicians benefit from keeping poor people dependent on individual politicians rather than empowering them to make collective demands for universal services.

From poor people’s perspective, this creates a trap. Each election cycle, they rationally choose politicians who offer immediate assistance and show they “care” about their needs. These politicians win, maintain patronage networks, and perpetuate a system where poor people stay dependent on personal connections to individual patrons instead of having guaranteed access to public goods as citizens. The next election comes around, poor people are still in precarious circumstances, and the cycle continues. What looks like rational individual behavior just reproduces the structural conditions of poverty and powerlessness.

This circularity goes beyond electoral politics to shape everyday governance. In Metro Manila, informal settlers might support local politicians who promise to suspend forced evictions or provide basic services to their communities. But by keeping these settlements informal and residents dependent on political protection instead of secure land tenure, the system ensures they stay vulnerable. Politicians keep constituent bases that rely on them for protection from the very state apparatus these politicians control. Poor people aren’t ignorant of this. Many told Kusaka¹ they’re frustrated that “the rich get richer and the poor get poorer” no matter who wins elections. But individual people don’t have the power to break the cycle.

So the structural analysis that recognizes vote-buying as a rational survival strategy is necessary, but it’s not enough. If politicians who win through patronage have no real incentive to build universal services that would make patronage obsolete, and if poor people’s participation in vote-buying, however rational, helps maintain the very system that constrains them, then we’re facing this circularity that demands we actually do something instead of just understanding or showing solidarity. Neither moral condemnation nor sympathetic analysis alone can break this cycle. And I’m stuck wondering: what do we actually do about this?

Addressing Potential Objections

Some people might say that accepting this analysis basically excuses corruption and abandons democratic principles. After all, vote-buying is illegal, patronage networks do entrench elite power, and not condemning these practices might normalize them. This objection deserves serious consideration because we’re talking about fundamental principles of democratic governance.
But this objection misunderstands what I’m trying to say. I’m not excusing corruption or saying vote-buying is acceptable. What I’m arguing is that the civic sphere’s moralistic approach of treating vote-buying mainly as a problem of voter ignorance or moral deficiency isn’t just ineffective, but it’s actively making things worse. Current civic sphere approaches are counterproductive in at least three ways that I’ve seen play out.

First, treating vote-buying as voter ignorance uses what Kusaka¹ calls “civic inclusivism,” trying to incorporate poor people into proper “citizenship” through education and moral reform. This fails because it doesn’t address why people do these things. As Kusaka’s research shows, voter education programs that appeal to universal values like “don’t vote for corrupt politicians” are accepted in the mass sphere but interpreted differently based on material circumstances. Poor people already know corruption is wrong; what they need isn’t moral instruction but material security.

Second, treating vote-buying as criminality risks marginalizing poor people without disrupting patronage systems. Proposals to restrict voting rights to taxpayers or people who pass competency tests would effectively disenfranchise the poor while leaving elite control intact. Even less extreme measures, like aggressively prosecuting vote-sellers, would punish the most vulnerable people in the system while leaving the politicians and power brokers untouched.

Third, and this is what really bothers me, the moralistic framing deepens class antagonism by positioning the educated middle class as guardians of democratic virtue against the poor masses who “don’t understand” proper citizenship. This “moral division of the nation” makes collective action across class lines harder, precisely when we need that coalition-building to challenge elite power. When civic sphere people treat poor people as the problem, they hide the structural conditions that make vote-buying rational and block potential alliances.

On the other hand, some might say my analysis romanticizes practices that ultimately serve elite interests by calling them “resistance.” This critique has merit. Vote-buying does help maintain elite power, and calling it resistance risks hiding that fact. But I’m not romanticizing these practices. I’m pointing out that both objections point toward the real challenge progressive movements face.

The challenge is precisely to move beyond both the civic sphere’s ineffective moralism and a purely structural analysis that just leaves us paralyzed. Recognizing vote-buying as a rational survival strategy is necessary, but it’s not enough for actual political transformation. The question becomes: how do we break the circular logic that makes patronage rational for individual people while harmful to collective interests? I don’t have a perfect answer to this, and that uncertainty really gets to me.

Beyond Moralism Toward Strategic Intervention

The issue of vote-buying in Philippine democracy matters because how we frame the problem determines what solutions we pursue. The dominant civic sphere approach of voter education and moral reform has proven ineffective over decades because it misdiagnoses the problem. Vote-buying is a symptom of structural inequality and state failure to provide basic services and economic security to the majority of citizens, not primarily a failure of political education or moral character among the poor.

But simply understanding patronage as a rational survival strategy, while more accurate, is also insufficient if we recognize that these systems simultaneously reproduce the power relations they appear to contest. We need to move beyond both positions to pursue what might be called strategic intervention: political action that addresses the material conditions making patronage necessary while building collective capacity to demand universal services.

So what would this strategic intervention actually look like? It requires, first, taking poor people’s agency and rationality seriously instead of viewing them as deficient citizens who need education. It means recognizing that poor people already understand what the civic sphere is trying to teach them. They know corruption is wrong, they know they should vote based on qualifications, but they face constraints that make such voting behavior costly or impossible.

Second, it requires focusing political energy not on changing individual voting behavior but on building universal public services that would make patronage unnecessary. This means fighting for quality public healthcare, education, transportation, and social security as rights rather than favors dispensed by politicians. It means demanding secure land tenure for informal settlers instead of depending on political protection from eviction. Such universal provision would transform the material conditions that make vote-buying rational. In the words of Allen Hicken⁶, the transition from clientelism to “programmatic” politics, where voters choose based on policy rather than favors, is only possible when the state actually demonstrates the capacity to deliver non-excludable public goods reliably.
Third, it requires building cross-class coalitions that bridge the “moral division of the nation” between civic and mass spheres. This is probably the hardest part, as it demands that middle-class activists and organizations actually listen to poor people’s perspectives instead of imposing pre-formed solutions, while also maintaining critical pressure for structural transformation rather than accepting patronage as inevitable.

The harsh reality is that meaningful change requires confronting not just individual corrupt politicians but the entire system of elite accumulation that produces mass poverty. As long as wealth remains extremely concentrated and poor people lack access to basic services, patronage politics will remain rational for both politicians and voters. Breaking this cycle demands fundamental redistribution of resources and power, which is precisely what makes it so difficult to achieve.
But the alternative is continued circularity: elections that change faces but not systems, civic sphere frustration that deepens class antagonism, and mass sphere participation that reproduces dependency. If we’re serious about democratic consolidation in the Philippines, we need to move beyond the false choice between condemning poor people for selling their votes and romanticizing their resistance. We need to build the material and political conditions where democratic citizenship becomes possible for all Filipinos, not just those privileged enough to afford luxury morality.

References