Reading Between the Senate Votes

By Herman M. Lagon

It did not take a clairvoyant to read the room this election season. The 2025 senatorial results, still humming in partial tallies but clear in trend, offer more than a list of names. They whisper of change, signal a recalibration, and murmur a subtle but telling critique of a political culture long warped by celebrity and machinery. While traditional politics may not have collapsed overnight, this election undoubtedly upended its foundations. The message: the Filipino electorate, especially the younger ones, are beginning to vote not just with memory, but with mindfulness.

This year, Gen Z voters did not just show up. They showed out. Many of them were first-time voters, and their numbers will only grow in 2028. This bloc, armed with digital fluency and issue-oriented sensibilities, did not simply latch onto names from billboards or trending hashtags. They clicked through platforms, tuned in to meeting de avance’s, and fact-checked campaign claims. Apps like Vote Pilipinas, Tayo Na!, and even Google Trends offered accessible summaries and comparative tools that influenced this cohort more than TV jingles ever could. What emerged is a generation that is reshaping elections into civic education and engagement.

Gone are the days when dancing budots on a campaign stage guaranteed a Senate seat. The electorate has started to demand more than mere visibility or self-proclaimed piety; it wants viability and consistency in action. Voters left behind a surprising number of showbiz hopefuls and viral vloggers, even those with massive social media and cult-like followings. The gap between fame and qualification has finally begun to matter more. This should be a lesson to political handlers: charisma must now come with coherence, and TikTok presence cannot cover up for a lack of platform.

Interestingly, we cannot simply attribute the victories of Kiko Pangilinan and Bam Aquino to nostalgia or a romanticized opposition. Their campaign success stemmed from sheer ground hustle and, more curiously, the brokenness of the Uniteam that once ruled the 2022 elections. Internal rifts within the BBM-Duterte axis allowed old allies of the people to return, not in fanfare, but in quiet, persistent campaigning. LGU endorsements and changes in traditional alliances created gaps that volunteers and progressive coalitions diligently widened. Their comeback is not just a return, it is a reckoning.

Protest votes tell an equally compelling story. Despite limited funding and weak political infrastructure, left-of-center and far-left-leaning candidates—labor leaders, farmers, fishermen, and community organizers—managed to draw millions of votes. There is growing frustration bubbling below the surface, and it seeks authentic representation. Even though they did not win, we should not disregard their numbers. People are starting to pay more attention to experience, integrity, and education. Academic rigor, administrative exposure, and issue literacy are slowly becoming currency again. There is hope in that trend, even if the transformation remains incomplete. The hunger for structural change is real, even if the road remains uphill.

Another clear takeaway is the waning influence of the so-called Iglesia bloc vote. In previous years, INC endorsements could practically assure a Senate seat. But in 2025, several endorsed bets failed to crack the top 12. Whether this is due to evolving voter independence or internal fissures within the religious bloc, the old guarantees are not as guaranteed anymore. It is a small but symbolic shift in our electoral map.

Surveys, once considered infallible, also experienced a decline in credibility. Candidates like Aquino and Pangilinan outperformed their predicted ranks by as many as 10 notches. This disparity may suggest late surges, silent voters, or perhaps the quiet refusal of respondents to disclose their true preferences in a climate of political fear and digital surveillance. In her decoding of voter psychology, Rappler researcher Jodesz Gavilan noted that while numbers tell stories, they may not always capture emotion, hesitation, or strategic silence.

Then, there is the curious resilience of the Duterte brand, still holding ground in Mindanao and among Classes D and E. Despite the ICC cloud and shady narratives, Bong Go and Bato dela Rosa’s victories suggest that the checkered form “tapang” and “malasakit” continues to resonate with many. Their victory could be interpreted as a pushback against what is seen as a cold, unfeeling technocracy in Manila. That said, Duterte’s ten whittled down to three may signal a waning grip, especially outside their strongholds.

One cannot ignore, too, the fact that while vote buying remains rampant, its impact appears diluted. The focus now is on social media ads, influencer partnerships, and digital presence. Candidates now spend much on boosted posts, not just via envelopes. Although this situation is not ideal, it indicates a shift in persuasion efforts towards platforms that are also frequented by fact-checking communities and youth groups. This at least creates some friction in the scrutiny process.

Meanwhile, there is something quietly poetic in how voters, particularly the youth, have embraced political discernment not by lectures, but by lived frustration. The unchecked inflation, healthcare woes, labor issues, continuing education crises, fiscal shortfalls, and culture of impunity have educated people more than any debate stage could. When a shallow senatorial candidate fails to grasp basic legislative duties or mumbles through interviews, voters now pay attention. Representation becomes more than just symbolic during periods of national insecurity; it becomes crucial for survival. The Senate is no longer a stage for re-enactments of action movies or comedy sketches. It is a deliberative chamber with real consequences.

Still, one could only imagine what might have been if names like Leni Robredo, Chel Diokno, and Leila de Lima ran under the Senate banner. Their absence may have left room for others to rise, but their probable wins, amid the cracks in traditional alliances, could have accelerated the return of checks and balances. Instead, some of them smartly took the party-list or local government route—a move that could spread their influence across more sectors. It was a tactical retreat that, in time, may prove wise in 2028.

The 2025 midterm elections are not a revolution, but they are a signal. They mark a subtle shift from theatricality to thoughtfulness, from noise to nuance. The country is not yet rid of dynasties, gimmicks, or traditional power plays. But there is now a visible resistance to all of that. It is not loud. It is not flashy. It does not even trend on social media for long. But it is there. It inspires. And it is growing. This is evident in various settings such as classrooms, churches, conversations, social media, community centers, and coffee shop debates. The electorate is learning to engage—not with blind trust, but with sharpened focus and cautious resolve.

And that, perhaps, is the most hopeful message of all.

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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.