
IN the roster of human vices, gluttony is often reduced to the image of a man at a banquet, gorging himself with food while others starve. But in truth, gluttony reaches far beyond the dining table. It is a metaphor for unchecked excess, for insatiable appetites, and, in the context of politics, for a kind of voracious greed that eats not only wealth, but also dignity, justice, and hope.
In the Philippines, the connection between gluttony and political greed is painfully clear. Here, the sin is not measured in calories but in kickbacks, ghost projects, padded budgets, and stolen futures.
The gluttonous politician: A modern-day king in a starving nation
Imagine a politician with a mansion in every province, designer clothes paid for by taxpayer money, and luxury SUVs ferrying them through streets riddled with potholes. Their plate is full, not with food, but with public funds siphoned from health programs, education initiatives, and infrastructure projects. Their hunger? Endless.
This is gluttony redefined—not of the stomach, but of the soul.
The gluttonous politician, like the overfed Roman emperors of old, consumes more than they need—not just for survival or comfort, but for pride, status, and a twisted sense of success. Their addiction to wealth and power leads to moral decay, a kind of moral obesity that slows empathy and accelerates exploitation.
The cost to the people: Hunger beyond the table
While corrupt officials feast, millions of Filipinos go to bed hungry. According to recent surveys, food insecurity remains a pressing issue, with many families surviving on less than P150 a day. Meanwhile, multi-billion-peso scandals—like the pork barrel scam or overpriced government procurements—reveal where national resources truly go.
This is not mere mismanagement; it is systemic plunder. Gluttonous governance breeds poverty in cascading layers, characterized by underfunded schools, overwhelmed hospitals, collapsing infrastructure, and a lack of meaningful livelihood programs.
Each stolen peso is a meal denied. Each rigged contract is a classroom that will never be built. The nation is not just economically starved—it is morally and spiritually malnourished.
How greed reinforces gluttony
Gluttony in politics doesn’t end when the stomach is full. Instead, it creates a culture of impunity, where one thief teaches another, and corruption becomes inherited like political dynasties themselves.
Elections are won not on platforms but on handouts, as politicians spend stolen money to secure their next term. Voters, conditioned by desperation and survival, take the bait, believing there is no other choice. The cycle turns again.
Greedy leaders are rarely held accountable because the very systems meant to police them—Congress, the courts, even watchdog agencies—are often headed by people who share the same appetite.
Breaking the feast: Toward accountability and reform
To stop political gluttony, we need more than outrage. We need a collective push for reform, for education that teaches critical thinking, for transparency mechanisms that are truly independent, and for an empowered civil society that refuses to stay silent.
Filipinos must reclaim their share of the table. It is not enough to criticize corrupt officials during coffee breaks or rant on social media. True change demands consistent civic engagement — holding leaders accountable, voting wisely, and demanding results beyond slogans.
The cure for gluttony is discipline
In moral philosophy, gluttony is often countered by temperance—the virtue of self-restraint and balance. What the Philippines needs now are leaders who know when to say “enough”—enough luxury, enough greed, enough self-interest.
But temperance must also be practiced by the people. A nation that tolerates gluttony in its leaders must ask what it is willing to endure, and what it is willing to do to stop it.
Because in the end, gluttony in leadership is not just a personal sin. It is a national affliction, and unless we address it, it will continue to devour the future of generations to come.