Morse code meets Messenger

By Herman M. Lagon

Imagine trying to explain Spotify, Wi-Fi, and ChatGPT to someone from 1925. Back then, life was mostly rooted in the land, lit by kerosene, and shaped by survival. Days moved slowly. Most people knew only their neighbors. Goals were more about getting by than getting ahead. Telling someone a hundred years ago that students would finish school from a screen, patients would talk to doctors through a phone, or that millions would watch a concert happening in Seoul from a couch in Barotac Nuevo would have sounded like a tall tale. And yet, here we are—living in a world bursting with ideas our ancestors never imagined. But even with all the speed and spark of this century, we still pause and ask the same old question: Has life really gotten better?

Let us not put the past on a pedestal. Life in the early 20th century was no picnic, especially in the Philippines. A regular Filipino family lived in a bahay kubo, got water from a poso, and cooked meals over an open flame. Education often stopped before high school—if it even started at all. Most kids worked on the farm or helped run the family store. For many women, choices were limited, childbirth was risky, and diseases like TB or cholera were everyday fears. Entertainment meant joining town fiestas, dancing in “bayle,” or catching a radio drama if the family was lucky enough to own a transistor set.

Now swing open the window to 2025. Even in quiet corners of Iloilo, young people are watching K-dramas on phones, chatting on Messenger, and playing music through wireless earbuds. Students attend classes via tablets, sometimes parked outside sari-sari piso-net stores for signal. Thanks to PhilHealth and rural health units, giving birth has become safer, and getting sick no longer means an automatic funeral. We still gripe about slow Wi-Fi, but being able to video call a sibling working in Qatar is nothing short of magic.

Neil deGrasse Tyson once said, “We are living in the most scientifically literate era in history, and yet many people still do not know it.” He has a point. We now carry in our pockets machines more powerful than the computers that once sent astronauts to the moon. Access to knowledge is instant and infinite. What once took weeks to learn through books or newspapers now pings our phones in real time, often before we finish our morning coffee.

Nowhere is this leap clearer than in healthcare. According to the World Bank, average life expectancy in 1925 was just 36 years. Today, it is double that. Vaccines, antibiotics, and robotic surgeries have changed the rules of aging and illness. In the Philippines, the barangay health system brought nurses and midwives where there were once only hilots. Malaria, once a household name, is now preventable and treatable. These are not strokes of luck. They are victories of science, policy, and community work over decades.

Education, too, has flipped its script. Back then, many families saw school as optional. Today, millions of students from all walks of life enroll through the Department of Education. From STEM to maritime tracks, from online courses to DepEd Commons, access has widened—even if the journey is still bumpy. It is not rare anymore to see students from remote areas winning robotics contests or topping international science quizzes. A century ago, this would have been unheard of.

Civic life has also opened up. In 1925, politics was for the elite. Voting was not for everyone. Today, we have barangay campaigns that spill into Facebook rants and TikTok debates. Citizens tag agencies, rally behind causes, and even file complaints with a tweet. Sure, this digital democracy is messy—disinformation, trolling, and echo chambers come with the territory. But it also means power is less about who you know and more about what you do. It is far from perfect, but it is more participatory than ever.

The economic shift has been equally dramatic. A century ago, our economy leaned heavily on crops—sugar, abaca, coconut. Jobs were manual, and wages barely sustained families. Today, while inequality still looms large, Filipinos thrive in BPOs, digital startups, creative industries, and green energy. OFWs send billions home. Apps like GCash and Maya allow a vendor in Barotac to receive payments or apply for credit without leaving their tindahan. The financial tools are not flawless, but they have certainly leveled a few playing fields.

Even food has transformed. Before, a failed harvest could mean months of hunger. There were no refrigerators in most homes, and very few options beyond rice, fish, and root crops. Today, sari-sari stores stock everything from ice cream to instant noodles. Wet markets compete with supermarkets that sell Korean seaweed, Norwegian salmon, and organic lettuce. School feeding programs, farm tech, and disaster-prep logistics help soften the blow of hunger when crises hit. We have not solved food insecurity, but we are more equipped to tackle it.

The entertainment landscape tells a similar story. From harana under the stars and Sunday zarzuelas, we now have kids rapping in Hiligaynon on TikTok, streaming anime dubbed in Tagalog, or belting karaoke hits recorded in their bedrooms. A generation ago, moving to Manila was the dream. Now, artists can go viral without leaving the province. This is not cultural erosion—it is cultural evolution. Filipino creativity has found more stages, more formats, and more freedom.

Even the arts, often underfunded and undervalued, have quietly bloomed. Digital galleries, online film fests, and crowdfunding platforms have helped marginalized artists reach wider audiences. A painter from Antique can now sell on Etsy. A poet in Negros can livestream a spoken word gig. Public schools offer creative writing workshops, music tracks, and theater electives—paths that were nearly invisible a hundred years ago. Art is no longer limited to the elite. It is accessible, raw, and real.

Of course, life today is not spotless. Climate anxiety, mental health struggles, political fatigue, and algorithm-driven divisions are new battles we face. But it would be unfair to say the past was better just because it seemed simpler. The truth is, the mess we face now is partly because we dared to move forward. We built more, reached farther, and questioned louder. With that growth came chaos, but also clarity. Neil deGrasse Tyson reminds us: science is not just a pile of facts—it is a way of seeing, questioning, and evolving. That lens has helped us navigate change.

 

Maybe the most telling shift is this: our expectations. A hundred years ago, people hoped for survival. Today, we demand purpose. We want fairness, expression, peace of mind, and the chance to be more than our paychecks or our job titles. That hunger for something deeper is not a sign of entitlement. It is proof of progress. We are no longer just trying to live—we are learning how to live well. That may be the best sign yet that we are on the right track.

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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 that is grounded in social justice and the pursuit of happiness. His views herewith do not necessarily reflect those of the institutions he is employed or connected with.