Abolishing the Pork Barrel
On its face, the pork barrel system appears to be a democratic way of apportioning government resources. Inherited from the United States, this scheme is supposed to allocate funds equally to every congressional district to be used for the residents’ most urgent needs. And who know the needs of these congressional communities better than the people they elected to represent them?
Legislators’ job. True, the main job of legislators is to enact laws for the common good, not to build roads, school houses and medical clinics, or feed orphans, grant scholarships, or distribute fertilizers. But, so the theory goes, they can—on the side—serve their constituents better by directing government resources to the urgent needs of their communities.
Over the decades, efforts have been made to deodorize the pork barrel. To emphasize its focus on the rural areas, it was called Countryside Development Fund. When this name became odorous, it was changed to Priority Development Assistance Fund.
To prevent abuse, various safeguards were instituted. For instance, the law required public bidding when the pork funds are to be implemented by nongovernment organizations. Releases were staggered based on deliveries or performance. And when public bidding was dispensed with, negotiated procurements were subjected to strict requirements, like the posting of a bond to answer for inadequate or substandard performance.
However, in the actual implementation, these safeguards were circumvented or ignored. No checking of NGOs was made, no public bidding held and no bonds required. After a recent Senate committee hearing, an exasperated Sen. Francis Escudero blurted out that the PDAF was riddled with “ghost deliveries, fake receipts, NGOs that you can’t locate, and nonexistent suppliers.” The net result: The pork barrel, in the billion pesos, rolled into private pockets.
Checks and balances. To solve the mess, members of Congress should be stripped of their prerogative to direct or
Legislators’ job. True, the main job of legislators is to enact laws for the common good, not to build roads, school houses and medical clinics, or feed orphans, grant scholarships, or distribute fertilizers. But, so the theory goes, they can—on the side—serve their constituents better by directing government resources to the urgent needs of their communities.
Over the decades, efforts have been made to deodorize the pork barrel. To emphasize its focus on the rural areas, it was called Countryside Development Fund. When this name became odorous, it was changed to Priority Development Assistance Fund.
To prevent abuse, various safeguards were instituted. For instance, the law required public bidding when the pork funds are to be implemented by nongovernment organizations. Releases were staggered based on deliveries or performance. And when public bidding was dispensed with, negotiated procurements were subjected to strict requirements, like the posting of a bond to answer for inadequate or substandard performance.
However, in the actual implementation, these safeguards were circumvented or ignored. No checking of NGOs was made, no public bidding held and no bonds required. After a recent Senate committee hearing, an exasperated Sen. Francis Escudero blurted out that the PDAF was riddled with “ghost deliveries, fake receipts, NGOs that you can’t locate, and nonexistent suppliers.” The net result: The pork barrel, in the billion pesos, rolled into private pockets.
Checks and balances. To solve the mess, members of Congress should be stripped of their prerogative to direct or