September 8, 2025
MANILA – Rumor has it that the third People Power Revolution is happening on TikTok. At least, that’s what people on social media are trying to promise. Scroll through your For You page, and you’ll see funny jabs, if not targeted attacks at “flood control nepo babies”: children of government officials and contractors showing off their lavish lifestyles amid worrying aftermaths of typhoons and tropical storms that were supposed to be avoided through billions of pesos worth of flood control project contracts.
With an estimate of one billion pesos spent on flood control and mitigation efforts daily, it unsurprisingly evokes rage to see vehicles submerged in murky waters and people walking through flimsy wooden bridges due to severe flooding.
Funding a tasteless lifestyle
But where does that money go? Apparently, taxpayer money funds tacky Louis Vuitton jackets, Bentleys that could fill up a parking lot, and private planes to sweep one off and away from flood-stricken towns—because to these people, they’re simply too rich to suffer through typhoons.
The Filipino people are currently seeing their hefty tax deductions pay for out-of-touch kids, devoid of personalities outside the latest microtrends, so-called “fashion influencers” with style sensibilities that many consider inferior to those of Cubao Expo.
Hence, the rage has been visceral, the exposés extensive. “Iskolar ng Bayan” lists no longer refer to UP students, but instead the names of unapologetic benefactors of public funds. Sentiments like “Wala pa akong anak pero may pinaaral na ako!” (I don’t have kids yet, but I’ve already sent someone to school!) and “Kwarto/damit ko rin ‘yan!” (That’s my room/my outfit, too!) flood comment sections that have been limited, if the targets of hate haven’t gone private or deleted their accounts yet.
The amount of people agreeing with and participating in this wave of “corrupt-shaming” seems enough to make the majority believe that change is upon us, but is it, really?
Forgive and forget?
Even avid commenters are afraid that this attempt at a digital revolution will merely fade into the trend cycle. They copy-paste templates, begging people not to forget about the egregious misuse of taxpayers’ money, imploring us not to let these nepo babies bounce back from being canceled.
These concerns are valid, because while these waves of hatred seem large, they’re still shallow waters—unlike the floods that engulf us.
It’s easy to get joy and entertainment from the illusion of putting these representations of astronomical entitlement in their place. Perhaps this would serve as a sign for them to develop something their flood money can’t seem to buy: delicadeza.
Personally, I often find myself wondering why these nepo babies couldn’t choose to live quiet lives. With the amount of money and resources they have, why would they try becoming celebrities and influencers in a country that does not play about cancel culture? “Just go to an Ivy League, get a doctorate, live in peace,” my friends and I would implore to these kids instead of subjecting us to informal statement of assets, liabilities, and net worth (SALN) declarations their parents probably haven’t filed themselves.
When it’s prohibited by Philippine law to flaunt one’s wealth, you can’t help but ask where and how these nepo babies find the audacity. And a lot of people think the same, which results in the collective anger we’re seeing today.
Devil’s advocate or dealing a low blow
But with this rage comes a flurry of hot takes, as some people choose to play devil’s advocate and concern themselves with the mental health of these nepo babies. There’ve been claims that the focus on face-shaming, body-shaming, and mocking political family offspring takes away from the “real issues” of corruption and fund mismanagement.
On one hand, it is true that the gratification one can get from pulling these nepo babies down their ivory towers can only do so much. If this is all we can muster, they’d be able to slither back into the public eye without facing the major consequences they and their families deserve. However, it’s been decades—if not centuries—since Filipinos have started protesting against corruption, but to no avail. The politicians who get labeled “corrupt” and “kurakot” still win the elections they run for.
Thus, netizens have seen the recent tirades against these politicians’ children as hitting them where it truly hurts. It’s a known fact that politicians have grown thick enough skin to allow accusations of bad governance to fall on deaf ears. Filipinos then ask: if they go low, why not go lower?
There’s a separate conversation worth having about how the hate comments towards political nepo babies seem to be rooted in lookism, fatphobia, and misogyny, but a hard pill to swallow is that the general public will not have enough compassion to be intersectional in their social criticism, especially when that same compassion is not extended to them during these trying times. After all, there are no perfect victims, more so in a system as unjust and flawed as the Philippine government.
In any case, as pointed out by social media, these nepo babies and their families can simply use taxpayer money to fund psychiatric consultations or lawsuits against “malicious comments” if their mental health is truly affected—all while the ordinary Filipino suffers due to material conditions.
On wealth and the wealthy
Speaking of hard pills to swallow, here’s another one: lavish influencers are loved and looked at as inspiration in normal times. Vloggers with extravagant house tours rack up millions of subscribers, and magazines closely document the designer goods celebrities have on their arms and wrists. Top influencers globally also have their claim to fame and virality for treating their wealth like it’s a simple fact.
To many, these public figures are distractions from real life—why worry about petsa de peligro when you can live vicariously through their unlimited ATMs? However, these are far from normal times, and the smoke screens put up by exorbitant excesses are the last thing we need when we can clearly see our people swimming in floods, while a select few swim in the riches we pay for.
Given this, there’s worth in evaluating our relationship with displays of wealth. It is human nature to want more, to build comfortable lives, and collect a couple of designer bags in the process. There’s no shame in getting the finer things in life if you’re not using taxes to pay for them, but it may be the same desire for upward mobility that allows many of us to give these so-called influencers platforms they don’t need or deserve.
Hopefully, this awakening is one for the long term: the kind that rejects the wealthy’s sorry attempts at being relatable because it is relatability that devalues them.
The court of public opinion seems satisfyingly harsh, and the unadulterated disgust towards the nepo babies often reflects the larger condemnation of the unjust situations at hand, albeit imperfectly. But even if hating on flood control nepo babies feels like a form of activism, real change deserves to happen in the actual courts.
We ought to see to it that they receive the answers and execute the consequences we truly deserve to see.