Does my vote still matter?
Every week, PhilSTAR L!fe explores issues and topics from the perspectives of different age groups, encouraging healthy but meaningful conversations on why they matter. This is Generations by our Gen Z columnist Angel Martinez.
Living in the Philippines is like playing an endless video game set on hard mode, as we often say. The rich seem to keep getting richer; the poor, poorer; and those in the middle fend for themselves to stay afloat. But amid a series of structural injustices, we’ve found comfort in one truth: that all of it could change, come the next election season. It’s why voting is seen as the cornerstone of our democracy, and why it’s a privilege our forefathers fought so hard to attain for us.
Yet, here I am: just a few days away from electing our next batch of senators, governors, councilors, and mayors, but still struggling to feel the hope I once had. Statistics show that Gen Z comprises a bulk of the voting population with over 18 million. However, I feel like I’m part of a generation of visionaries whose visions of a better future will not materialize anytime soon.
Only two of my senatorial bets have broken the Magic 12 but they can't even hold on tight enough to make consistent appearances. There’s also been some infighting among fellow progressives. All these things considered: Is showing up at the polls worth all the effort when it will eventually lead to disappointment, anyway?
Dr. Anthony Borja, a lecturer from De La Salle University’s political science department, says that this political disillusionment among younger groups is to be expected, with most of us still reeling from the effects of the 2022 national elections. “High levels of enthusiasm coupled with feelings of failure often leads to an equivalent level of disillusionment. Such is the dynamics of emotional investment,” he tells PhilSTAR L!fe.
It also doesn’t help that we’ve developed what Borja calls a “tribalistic fixation” on our leader of choice. Our votes are meant to represent the values we uphold, the causes we prioritize, and the changes we want to see. As a result, our candidates of choice are stand-ins for ourselves, and their rise to power becomes hinged on our self-representation.
But maybe that’s where the problem lies. Rather than opt out of the process altogether, maybe we should reframe the meanings and expectations we ascribe to voting. Right now, it seems that we’re looking at it as a solo endeavor and the sole answer to the systemic failings of our polity. We see political participation through the lens of individual empowerment rather than for the sake of the common good. Borja says that this may be the reason behind our “tribal partisanship,” or strong, blind allegiance to a singular party, as well as a tendency to vote out of spite or jest, rather than in a conscious and mindful manner.
“In reality, [voting] is shaped by a substantial and sincere concern for others and the public as a whole,” Borja affirms. Political action doesn’t just impact our personal identity and trajectory. The vote we cast shapes the lives of our families and our communities. It impacts where our taxes get funneled, what kind of education children get, what kind of facilities and services we have access to. It affects the cost of living in our cities, the inflation rates of basic commodities, and the protections we receive. Most importantly, these trickle down to future generations. We are actively shaping the Philippines they will be born into.
Of course, we have to cut ourselves some slack. It’s not surprising that we look at the voting process so personally, when civic engagement in the country leaves very little room for any other kind of involvement. “All energies are focused on elections, so citizens, both young and old, are forced to invest most of their political emotions on this act,” Borja laments. True enough, if the fight never ends with the electoral process, why are so many of us unaware of where to go after? Why do all efforts seem to be concentrated during this short period, when we know there’s much work to be done beyond the precincts?
While opportunities outside of elections are admittedly few and far in between, they’re not non-existent. Social media has made it easier to take action and hold others accountable without having to take to the streets. We can keep abreast on local and international affairs, engage in discourse with others, and form our own stances as we learn. Of course, it also matters to join volunteer groups, to attend public forums and talks, and speak with our elected officials and start petitions about issues we care about, no matter how "small."
Honestly, the fact that I’m writing this column from a device with a steady internet connection and that you’re probably reading this under the same conditions shields us from the worst effects of having unqualified officials. There’s little probability that our lives will be irreparably altered by a new set of singing, dancing trapos with familiar last names.
But let’s think of those in our cities who are hungry, homeless, unemployed, and disabled. Think of those who fall in line for hours in the sweltering heat for a handful of thousand-peso bills to tide them through the rest of the month. Our choices (or lack thereof) affect them, too. In the absence of a competent government, we’ve historically relied on one another. We are all we’ve got, at the end of the day. It is only when we realize that there’s so much more at stake with a single vote that we can begin to derive hope from this feeling of hopelessness.
Generations by Angel Martinez appears weekly at PhilSTAR L!fe.
