No work, no pay, period

By Herman M. Lagon

There is a familiar scene many workers know by heart. The clock moves, attendance is checked, and a missed day means less money. Teachers know it. Nurses know it. Factory workers, cashiers, and contractuals know it too. That is why the recent push to apply a “no work, no pay” rule in the Senate and the House of Representatives does not feel radical. It feels overdue. For once, the rule that has long governed ordinary workers is being asked to knock on the door of those who make the rules themselves.

What makes the debate interesting is not just the bill, but what happened after it was filed. When House Bill No. 7432 was introduced, reports soon followed that some absentees began returning. If that is true, then the bill already proved something awkward: the problem may not have been inability to attend, but the absence of consequences. If people suddenly show up when a deduction becomes possible, then absenteeism was not simply an accident. It was a tolerated habit. Even before becoming law, the proposal had already exposed a weak spot in the culture of Congress.

For ordinary Juans and Juanas, the appeal of the measure is easy to understand. No need for a legal symposium. A worker in a mall in Iloilo, a nurse in a district hospital, or a public school teacher in Antique already lives under this principle. Miss work, lose pay. Be late, get deducted. That is why labor groups such as the General Alliance of Workers Association (GAWA) say public officials—those in Congress, LGUs, and government institutions and agencies—should not be insulated from the same discipline that governs everyone else. The clamor is not really about revenge. It is about a simple, wounded question: why should those paid by the people be spared from the standards the people themselves cannot escape?

It hits differently when public money is involved. Lawmakers are paid by people who count every peso—drivers, teachers, nurses, staff, vendors. So when someone skips work but still gets paid, it stops being just politics. It feels personal.

The Senate, in particular, has given this issue sharper edges. Reports of Senator Ronald “Bato” dela Rosa’s extended absences sparked public criticism and media scrutiny, and even senators themselves discussed whether his salary could be withheld. But the more telling part was the admission that there is no explicit “no work, no pay” rule for senators. That matters. It means the institution still leans on courtesy, excuse letters, and internal discretion more than on a clear accountability standard. And as we have learned in many settings, once rules become too dependent on discretion, fairness begins to wobble.

This is why online comments calling for the rule to cover both the House and the Senate are not just noise from irritated netizens. They point to a real gap. Citizens do not care much for chamber etiquette when public funds are involved. They see one treasury, one tax burden, one standard of fairness. That is why many have also asked that the principle extend beyond Congress—to appointees, to local officials, even to barangay-level posts where absenteeism is no less visible. Beneath the sarcasm and memes is a serious demand: if public service is public trust, then public pay must follow public work.

Still, this policy should not be reduced to bodies in chairs. Some lawmakers and commenters raise a fair point: legislative work does not happen only during plenary sessions. There are committee hearings, bicameral meetings, consultations, official missions, constituency work, and other duties that do not always happen under television lights. That means a smart “no work, no pay” rule should not be crude. It should count real work, not just visible attendance. Plenary presence matters, yes, but so should committee participation, sponsorship of measures, hearings attended, and documented work done outside the hall. The stronger version of the proposal is not “no seat, no salary,” but “no substantive work, no full compensation.”

That makes the bill more credible and less performative. House Bill No. 7432 already moves in that direction by recognizing attendance in committee hearings and authorized official activities. But the real test is implementation. Records must be transparent. Logs must be public. Excused absences must be clearly defined. Sanctions for falsified attendance should be real. Otherwise, the measure risks becoming another bright headline that fades into the usual grayness of government practice. The people are not only asking for punishment. They are asking for visible standards and less room for invisible privilege.

Let us be honest—this is not a magic solution. But it sends a message. You cannot keep asking citizens to comply while quietly exempting yourselves.

For teachers, there is an old lesson that travels well beyond the classroom: standards are not what we announce, but what we allow. For too long, legislative absenteeism has been allowed to sit comfortably beside full compensation. That is why this proposal matters. Not because lawmakers are daily wage earners, but because public office should not become a part-time sideline with full-time pay. No work, no pay in Congress is not anti-legislator. It is pro-fairness, pro-accountability, and pro-respect for the people footing the bill.

A good legislature deserves dignity, but dignity is not protected by exemption. It is earned by trust. And trust grows in small, ordinary, unglamorous ways—like showing up, doing the work, and not asking the public to accept a privilege they themselves could never afford. If the mere threat of deduction has already made absentees return, then Congress and the Senate have admitted something without meaning to: attendance was never impossible. It had simply become too easy to neglect.

***

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.