Honorary or Imaginary?

By Herman M. Lagon 

They say when something seems too good to be true, it usually is. Lately, a young inspirational speaker from Guimaras has become a social media darling—circulating through Facebook circles, confidently flaunting a résumé more dazzling than the average diplomat, scientist, or artist could ever dream of. Not one. Not two. But seven honorary doctorates, all allegedly conferred by foreign institutions, across a baffling array of fields.

Each honorary degree he supposedly earned in just under a decade carries a weighty significance. A Doctor of Philosophy (Ph.D.) symbolizes transformative thought that reshapes our understanding of life. A Doctor of Science (D.Sc.) honors innovations that shift paradigms and make science accessible and useful. The Doctor of Business Administration (DBA) celebrates visionaries who shape industries. A Doctor of Literature (Litt.D.) is reserved for those whose words build worlds. The Doctor of Musical Arts (D.M.A.) recognizes artists whose music transcends notes and touches hearts. A Doctor of Humanities (D.Hum.) pays tribute to lives lived in service and compassion. And the Doctor of Liberal Arts (D.L.A.) is a nod to thinkers who draw meaningful connections across disciplines. To claim all seven before age 30 is either monumental—or mythical.

And yet, when asked which schools awarded these accolades, he could name none. No ceremonies. No citations. No confirmation. Just a sweeping mention of “data privacy” and a claim that he is protecting the institutions from public criticism. But that argument folds faster than a paper diploma. Universities grant honorary degrees precisely because they are proud of the recipient’s contribution. These are not secret handshakes in dark alleys. They are public affirmations of excellence.

Honorary degrees are typically given for singular, sustained achievement. Take Dr. Fe del Mundo, the Philippines’ first woman National Scientist, whom Ateneo awarded an honorary Doctor of Science and Public Service for decades of pioneering pediatric care. Tech mogul Bill Gates was also honored by Harvard despite dropping out because he changed the world. Boxing GOAT Muhammad Ali, too, received a Doctor of Humane Letters from Texas Southern University for the social courage he embodied. One honor, for one sphere. Yet here we are, watching someone collect them like Pokémon badges.

I recall my time as an officer of the University of Iloilo–Phinma Alumni Association, where I sat on the committee that deliberated the conferment of honorary doctorates to two Ilonggo business icons: Alejandro Que and Felipe Uygongco. It was not a casual decision. The late Dr. Que, CEO of Que Group and founder of Iloilo Supermart and The Atrium, had built the most recognizable homegrown supermarket chain in Western Visayas. Dr. Uygongco, patriarch of La Filipina Uy Gongco Corporation, helped shape the nation’s agribusiness landscape. These men were not just entrepreneurs—they were community pillars. Their legacies were real, measurable, and documented. We had paperwork, testimonials, and due diligence. The conferment passed through a system of scrutiny—by alumni, faculty, and the university board. Because that is how it should be.

Now, if our modern-day renaissance man from Guimaras can truly back his claims, then by all means, let us celebrate him. He should be paraded in Congress, booked for global summits, and cited in history books. Seven honorary doctorates in seven unrelated fields before 30? That is not just extraordinary, not even interstellar–it is intergalactic. But if the claims are false or inflated, we are dealing with something far more serious than embellishment. We are dealing with the erosion of academic trust.

Why does this matter? First, it undermines academic integrity. It makes a mockery of those who spent decades contributing to a field to earn that recognition. Second, it crosses into fraud. If used to secure engagements, influence, or money, it becomes deception. Third, it destroys credibility—not only of the individual but also of the organizers, hosts, and schools involved. Fourth, it disrespects the blood, sweat, and tears of people who actually moved the world forward. Lastly, it sets a dangerous precedent. When we reward image over impact, we teach the next generation that looking the part is more important than being the part.

This speaker claims to be a “World Ambassador.” To what, we still do not know. He says he is a “vlogger.” Nothing is wrong with that, but when did one vlog lead to seven doctorates? Maria Ressa, a Nobel Peace Prize laureate, has only three honorary doctorates, all anchored in journalism and human rights. Leni Robredo, former vice president and public servant with decades of documented grassroots work, holds five—each rooted in public administration and governance. Neil deGrasse Tyson, one of the most prolific science communicators in the world, has 23 honorary doctorates—all tied to his singular contribution in making astrophysics relatable. None of them, however, claimed to be a musical artist, a liberal arts theorist, a literary genius, and a business mogul—simultaneously.

So no, this is not envy. This is responsibility. We owe it to our students, our schools, and our nation to protect the meaning of excellence. In a world where perception often outweighs truth, our classrooms must be the last stronghold of substance over spectacle.

RMN Iloilo did the right thing. They fairly asked him to show proof. He refused, citing privacy. But why hide if the awarding institutions are authentic and proud of him? Where are the photos, the citations, the congratulatory messages? Why can’t it be googled? It is not about public shaming. It is about public trust.

Until he produces the receipts, we reserve the right to ask questions—not to attack but to seek the truth. No one—no matter how charming, viral, or articulate—gets a pass on credibility when standing on a graduation stage, influencing young minds. He deserves a chance to prove us wrong, but he also has to meet the same standard we expect from anyone who wears the title “Doctor.”

Here is my promise: If the evidence comes through, I will personally write a tribute in his name. I will celebrate him as the pride of Guimaras, Iloilo, the Philippines, and humanity. I will call him our generation’s beacon of brilliance and versatility. But until that happens, let us not trade veritas for virality. Because in the end, real honor stands the test of daylight. And real honors? They never need to hide.

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Doc H fondly describes himself as a ‘student of and for life’ who, like many others, aspires to a life-giving and why-driven world grounded in social justice and the pursuit of happiness. His views do not necessarily reflect those of the institutions he is employed or connected with.