Preserving cultural history amid urban growth

Metro Manila’s urban identity is often associated with its density, skyline, and the relentless churn of new developments. Within this region, the City of Manila, as one of the most populous urban areas in the world, is a bustling hub of trade and commerce, but one inarguably possessed of an old-world soul.

Based on numbers alone, from the data gathered by the City of Manila, the district of Sta. Ana has the most heritage sites in the country with 88, followed by the districts of San Nicolas and Malate with 78 and 55, respectively.

Under the Philippine Registry of Heritage, formerly known as the Philippine Registry of Cultural Property or PRECUP, cultural properties are categorized into several types based on how they are recognized and declared.

Cultural properties included in this registry fall under several formal classifications, each carrying distinct legal protections and historical significance, as determined by national and local cultural agencies.

At the highest level of designation are National Cultural Treasures, which are unique cultural properties found within the Philippines that possess outstanding historical, cultural, artistic, or scientific value. Also of national importance are Important Cultural Properties, which refer to cultural properties recognized for their exceptional cultural, artistic, and historical significance to the country.

Under the purview of the National Historical Commission of the Philippines are additional heritage classifications, including National Historical Shrines, which are hallowed sites revered for their deep historical and often sacred associations; National Historical Landmarks, which are places or structures directly associated with significant historical events or achievements; and National Historical Monuments, which are physical commemorations of important historical figures or moments.

At the international level, UNESCO World Heritage Sites are cultural or natural properties located in the Philippines that have been inscribed by the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization for their outstanding universal value to humanity.

Apart from formally declared properties, the law also recognizes a broader group known as Presumed Important Cultural Properties. These are cultural assets that have not been officially declared under any of the above categories but possess the essential characteristics of an Important Cultural Property.

Finally, there are Local Important Cultural Properties, which are identified and declared by local government units through their respective Sanggunian via ordinance, executive order, or resolution. These are properties of specific cultural, historical, or symbolic value to the local communities in which they are located, and their recognition plays a crucial role in strengthening local heritage protection and awareness.

Together, these classifications aim to preserve the Philippines’ rich and diverse cultural legacy, ensuring that historical memory and artistic achievement remain embedded within both national consciousness and local identity.

And Manila, a city older than the country itself, plays host to many of them.

Preservation as progress

The Philippines has a robust legal framework for cultural preservation. Republic Act 10066, or the National Cultural Heritage Act of 2009, mandates protection for structures at least 50 years old and classifies them as Important Cultural Properties (ICPs) or Heritage Houses.

Updates to this law, including RA 11961 passed in 2023, introduced a three-tier classification system for cultural properties, allowing tailored conservation standards for Grades I to III.

Despite this, legal protection often lacks teeth. There have been plenty of reports over the years that have pointed out the law’s weak enforcement towards the preservation of Manila’s cultural heritage. Property owners frequently alter or demolish historically significant buildings without proper permits or oversight, such as the Sta. Cruz building in Escolta that was demolished surreptitiously amid the COVID-19 pandemic in 2021, or the demolition of the Sanchez House on Bilibid Viejo Street in Quiapo.

Such events have been the source of countless controversies about Philippine heritage, and yet what’s often missing from the debate is this: heritage need not be an obstacle to urban development. In fact, it can be a catalyst for sustainable growth.

A recent Asia-Pacific study using Manila as a case study found that integrating heritage into urban planning can boost local tourism, community resilience, and economic diversity.

The study, titled “Sustainable Cities in Developing Countries: A Case of Balancing Cultural Heritage Preservation and Tourism in Manila, Philippines” and published in the Asia-Pacific Social Science Review, found that cities that balance conservation with modernization like Kyoto, George Town, or Singapore’s Chinatown demonstrate that “a sustainable urban revitalization program can effectively promote a creative economy that can generate employment opportunities and improve the existing economic conditions, especially for low-income citizens who are part of the city’s humanscape.”

In Manila, this is already happening in pockets. The Goldenberg Mansion in Malacañang complex, a Moorish-revival home built in the 1870s, was recently restored and reopened as a cultural center in 2023. Escolta’s First United Building has been repurposed into a creative hub for local entrepreneurs.

Grassroots movements are also gaining momentum. Organizations like Renacimiento Manila are spearheading public campaigns, walking tours, and digital awareness drives to build civic pride and policy pressure.

Manila today stands at a crossroads between its storied past and its visions of the future. One prioritizes verticality, volume, and economic scale; the other values continuity, character, and cultural capital.

But these visions need not be mutually exclusive. Preserving heritage does not mean freezing the city in amber. The numerous heritage sites in the city prove that Manila is a living vessel of collective memory. And what is a nation but a shared memory?

Source: Business World

The power of Filipino emotions

I’ve always believed Filipinos feel things more deeply than most. We’re not just emotional. We’re the most emotional, according to a recent Gallup survey: 60 percent of us said we experienced strong emotions — good or bad — the day before the poll. That was the highest rate in the world, topping 140 other countries. That’s no small thing. It tells a story not just about how we live but why poverty and emotion remain intertwined in our national life.

Poverty amplifies emotion. When resources are scarce, daily life gets raw. Joy is fierce. Grief is overwhelming. Hope can seem fragile. Emotion becomes louder because our circumstances demand it. In richer countries, daily distress is softened: you buy bottled water or go to the movies. But for many Filipinos stuck in poverty, every day is amplified: turning on the tap, filling up the jeep, paying for school — it’s emotional. You don’t just feel hunger. You feel desperation. You don’t just feel tired. You feel like you’re dying.

That emotional intensity shapes everything: business, politics, even our relationships. In business, it can be both a gift and a curse. On one hand, emotional engagement fuels creativity. Our advertising is powerful. Our service workers are warm. Filipino BPO centers are known for empathy and heartfelt communication. Emotion can close deals, build trust and make brands feel human. When a salesperson senses your mood, they respond in kind. That’s a skill. But there’s a downside. Our decisions are often too emotional. Investors get spooked easily. One bad headline robs us of millions. We ride the tide of sentiment instead of systems. We prize gut over analysis.

That’s why some foreign investors avoid long-term projects here — they worry about emotional instability: protests, lockdowns, fever pitch elections. They see emotion, not resilience. In politics, emotion is our stock-in trade. Campaigns here feel like telenovelas. Candidates cry. They hug families. They shout from balconies. It resonates.

But again, the same intensity can backfire. Emotional politics favors populism. Decisions come from rallies, not data. We react more than we plan. We celebrate passion but neglect policy. When leaders tap our hearts, they win. But when they neglect our problems, we suffer. This also shows up in how we treat poverty. We feed the hungry, clothe the cold, pray for the dying — and that’s good. But solutions are often emotional, not structural. We lobby with tears. We mourn with songs. But when responsibilities demand budgets, policies and regulations, we stall.

Emotion doesn’t build bridges. It doesn’t fix traffic. It doesn’t pass mental health laws. That takes consistency, not crying. In society, being so emotional means we connect easily. We’re warm, hospitable, generous. We help strangers. We cry at sad movies, rejoice at weddings, rage at injustice. The social bond is strong. It makes us resilient in calamity. Typhoon after typhoon, we rebuild — not just structures but communities.

Emotion binds us. It also burdens us. We cling to the past. We hold grudges. We gossip, and it hurts. We shame. We judge. We worry about what others think. Emotional experiences become collective memories — good and bad. We share trauma as much as joy, and both stick to our identity.

Being the world’s most emotional country, in many ways, is a blessing wrapped in a curse. It fuels our warmth, binds our communities and drives our creativity. It pushes campaigns to be passionate and brands to feel personal. But it also means we make decisions based on tears, not plans. We lead with sentiment, not sense. We treat symptoms, not causes. We celebrate emotion and forget discipline. If we want to thrive, we need to balance feeling with thinking. We need structures that harness emotion rather than be ruled by it. In business, that means systems that manage risk, not just charm clients.

In politics, that means policies grounded in data, not just tear-jerking speeches. In society, that means empathy that leads to action: fund housing, fund schools, fund mental health. We’re working on it.

The Mental Health Act got passed in 2018. It promised more care for those drowning in emotion — depression, anxiety, trauma — but it still needs funding, training and implementation. We’re seeing more nongovernmental organizations working on rehab after typhoons and the drug war. We’re more aware today of how poverty and disaster leave emotional scars. But awareness is the first step, not the finish line. We need to build systems that don’t just feel our pain but prevent it. We need to train kids not just to cry but to cope. We need to reward planning as much as passion. We must embrace emotion, yes, but channel it. Use it to motivate, not to mislead. Use it to heal, not to hijack. Use it to empathize, not just to entertain. I believe we can do that.

Our emotion is our power. It’s our heart. But a heart alone can’t win the world. It needs a mind that plans and a body that builds. We need the discipline to match our depth. We need to transform emotional energy into long-term action. Being the most emotional country isn’t a badge to hide under. It’s a responsibility. We feel the world more, yes. But feeling isn’t enough. We have to act. We must build. We must sustain. We need policies that outlast sympathy. We need leaders who feel and forge solutions. We need systems that honor our emotion by turning it into change. Until we do, we’ll remain emotional — and still poor. And we’ll ask ourselves, between tears and laughter, why so much feeling hasn’t led us any closer to real progress.

Source: Manila Times

50.4% of Filipinos benefit from financial inclusion

But ratio lower than 51.4% in 2021, the last time that WB published its triennial report

The proportion of Filipinos with financial accounts slightly fell in 2024 compared with three years ago, the World Bank (WB) Group reported, highlighting the challenges of onboarding the rest of the population to the formal financial system.

In its Global Findex 2025 report, the Washington-based institution found that 50.2 percent of Filipinos aged 15 years old and above owned an account with banks and other regulated entities such as credit union, microfinance institution or a mobile money service provider.

This was 1.2 percentage point lower compared with the previous share of 51.4 percent back in 2021—the last time that the WB Group published its triennial report.

The latest data on financial account ownership in the Philippines were based on the results of 1,000 interviews, with a margin of error of 3.5 percent.

Underperforming vs peers

As it is, the rate of financial account ownership in the Philippines was lower than the 83.3 percent average for the East Asia & Pacific and 70.4 percent for lower-middle-income economies.

The findings of the WB Group also fell short of the goal of the Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas to include at least 70 percent of Filipino adults in the formal financial system by 2023.

The BSP has yet to release the results of its latest financial inclusion survey.

Notably, the decline in account ownership happened even as BSP data showed that 57.4 percent of total retail transactions in the country in 2024 were cashless. This surpassed the government’s 2024 goal to convert 52 to 54 percent of retail transactions to digital.

‘Concerning’ decline

John Paolo Rivera, a senior research fellow at state-run think tank Philippine Institute for Development Studies (PIDS), said the dip in financial account ownership was “concerning” as it ran counter to the “digital gains” that the country had seen recently.

“It suggests that economic hardship, job informality and limited digital access in rural areas may have offset earlier progress. The pandemic may have pushed people to open accounts for aid or transactions, but without sustained income or digital literacy, usage and retention likely fell,” Rivera said.

WB Group data showed that among the Filipinos who own accounts, 33.5 percent were maintained with banks “or similar financial institutions.” Meanwhile, 32.7 percent of them were “digitally enabled” accounts, and 28.8 percent were mobile wallets.

This is the first time that the report included data on personal mobile phone ownership and internet use.

Technology as enabler

The report added that 23.9 percent of Filipinos saved money using formal financial accounts in 2024, up from 20.8 percent in 2021.

Globally, the WB Group said mobile phone technology played a key role in the increase in formal saving.

“Financial inclusion needs more than just access. It needs meaningful use,” PIDS’ Rivera said.

“The government and private sector must invest in financial education, rural connectivity and trust-building to bring the remaining half of Filipino adults into the system,” he added.

Source: Inquirer