The recent directive from the Department of the Interior and Local Government (DILG) to remove faces and names from government projects has stirred the usual mix of controversy, defense, and partisan chatter. But beyond the headlines and social media threads, this policy correction taps into a deeper, long-standing rigidity in Philippine politics: the balance between service and self-promotion.
Historically, political branding has been a persistent feature of local governance. Catchy taglines, strategically placed faces on buses, signage on projects, and the visible “branding” of leadership have served as quick signals to constituents that someone is in charge. Yet there is a growing argument that this branding comes at a cost—namely, that it shifts the focus away from meaningful policy outcomes and toward the optics of leadership.
In this context, I want to reflect on a particular strand of leadership that, in my view, embodies the kind of public service we need more of: leaders who prefer substance over publicity, managers who let results speak for themselves, and communicators who recognize that justice, safety, and development should be felt by communities rather than showcased by a mayor’s name on a signboard.
A few local exemplars come to mind, including Pasig Mayor Vico Sotto, who has been noted for governance that prioritizes outcomes over branding. While not immune to the complexities of political life, his approach—where decisions are anchored in policy, rather than in a heavy public-facing persona—offers a useful contrast to the branding-driven model that often dominates local politics.
Here in Pampanga, I have had the privilege to work with mayors who have consciously stepped away from the limelight in service of a different kind of leadership. In the 2010s, former Mayor Edgardo Pamintuan chose not to have his name or face emblazoned across public or government vehicles. His tagline, “Agyu Tamu,” while memorable, was more about a shared call to action than a ceaseless drumbeat of self-promotion. The message was simple: lead through action, not applause.
Today, incumbent Mayor Carmelo “Jon” Lazatin II embodies a similar ethos. He is not media-savvy in the sense of chasing headlines; he does not seek constant public attention. As his information officer, I have had the chance to witness, firsthand, the traction between transparency and publicity. In the early months of his administration, I drafted communications materials that announced a suspension of classes—but he did not want his name or face attached to the announcement. His rationale was instructive: the goal was not to please the students with a polished public-relations gesture, but to ensure that the decision served the public’s best interest and was anchored in responsible governance.
There was another moment that underscored this philosophy. When one of the suspects connected to the killing of a Korean tourist in Barangay Anunas was brought into police custody, I was ready to prepare for a press conference but Mayor Jon dismissed the idea right away, reminding us that justice for the victim need not be propelled by sensationalism. The measure of progress, he suggested, is not how loudly we announce it, but how effectively we pursue it.
These instances matter because they illuminate a crucial principle: public service is about delivering results, not harvesting optics. When leaders eschew public self-promotion, they are less vulnerable to the distortions of politics—where projects exist to bolster a brand rather than to improve lives; where the narrative is crafted to win votes rather than to win trust.
The DILG directive can be read in two ways. On one hand, it can be seen as an attack on the individuality of leadership—the aesthetic of a personality-driven governance that many voters have come to expect. On the other hand, and I argue this with some conviction, it is a necessary correction to a politics of vanity. It asks provinces and cities to be judged by outcomes: the speed of disaster response, the transparency of procurement, the safety of streets, the accessibility of services, and the tangible improvements in education and health.
Leaders with substance, not image, are precisely the leaders this country needs—especially at a time when governance challenges are intricate and multifaceted. The work of public service is arduous and often thankless; it should not be driven by whose name appears on a banner, but by what is done for the community. If the DILG’s policy helps re-center governance on results, it could nudge the political culture away from personality cults toward a more accountable, service-oriented framework.
Of course, this shift will not be easy. It requires institutional discipline, clear guidelines, and a cultural shift within local governments that currently equate visibility with effectiveness. It demands that communications teams, while still essential, prioritize accuracy, integrity, and timeliness over the production of “gotcha” moments or branded campaigns. It calls on officials to explain decisions through accessible, evidence-based updates rather than through glossy slogans.
To the public, my message is this: celebrate leaders who lead by doing, not by being seen. Honor those who, behind the scenes, work relentlessly to repair streets, improve schools, and safeguard communities, without seeking a standing ovation. In Pampanga and beyond, there are mayors and local officials who embody this ethic—leaders who understand that governance is a service, not a stage.
Let us treasure them while they still carry the burden of leadership. And let us hold accountable those who hide behind branding rather than facing the hard realities of public life. The measure of a good government is not the number of posters with a name on it, but the number of lives improved, the trust earned, and the justice delivered.
In the end, this directive, if applied thoughtfully, can be a catalyst for a healthier public discourse—one in which public service remains the primary act, and political branding recedes to its proper place: a background accompaniment to the real work of governance. Leaders with substance are not a relic of the past; they are the present and the future we should strive to protect.