By Herman M. Lagon

Few things reveal the priorities of a political institution more than what it chooses to fight about. This week, while people worried about prices, jobs, classrooms, and public services, the Senate found itself trapped in a dispute over whether the answer was 12 or 13. One camp insisted that 12 senators constituted a valid quorum under the Supreme Court’s 1949 ruling in Avelino v. Cuenco. Another camp countered that the Senate has 24 members, a majority is 13, and arithmetic remains stubbornly immune to political interpretation. Somewhere between those competing claims stands the ordinary taxpayer wondering a far simpler question: while our leaders are debating who legitimately occupies which chair, who is attending to the country’s unfinished work?

At first glance, the fight looks political. In reality, it is also legal, institutional, and ultimately about how democracy should function. The legal fight is really a battle between two ways of looking at the Senate. One camp, supported by the IBP’s interpretation of Avelino and echoed by leaders in the Lower House and Malacañang, argues that government should not grind to a halt simply because some members cannot be compelled to attend. The other side argues that numbers are numbers: 24 senators means 13 for a majority unless seats are legally vacated. Both positions have logic behind them. The issue may no longer be about 12 versus 13. It is about whether the Senate can keep working while the country’s problems keep piling up.

Picture a faculty meeting where 24 teachers are expected, but 2 are simply unable to attend. 12 arrive and urgent decisions must be made. Should the meeting proceed or stop altogether? Most people understand the practical argument for moving forward. Yet they would also object if major leadership changes were made without following established rules. That tension mirrors the Senate controversy.

That tension explains why the debate has spread beyond politicians and lawyers. It touches a larger question about democracy itself. Democracy was never designed to eliminate disagreement. It was designed to manage it. The problem begins when disputes over rules consume more attention than the problems those rules were meant to address. Most are not keeping score in the Avelino debate. They are keeping score at the market, the gas station, the hospital, and the classroom. To them, procedural battles matter primarily because of their consequences.

Every day devoted to counting senators is a day not devoted to the concerns people carry home from work, school, the market, or the hospital. Families are worrying about prices, jobs, education, healthcare, traffic, and safety—not quorum formulas.

For many observers, the most persuasive argument for the 12-senator quorum is not found in legal textbooks but in the practical need for government institutions to keep working. Its defenders argue that a minority should never be able to immobilize an entire constitutional body by refusing to participate. The fear is that quorum rules could become weapons. If 13 senators are always required regardless of circumstances, then 12 senators can potentially hold the institution hostage indefinitely simply by staying away. That possibility troubled the Supreme Court in Avelino and continues to worry supporters of the June 3 session. Their argument rests on a practical truth recognized in many parliamentary systems worldwide: rules must preserve both representation and governability. A legislature that cannot function ceases to fulfill its constitutional purpose.

The argument is not without influential supporters. Former Senate President Franklin Drilon has pointed out that Senate practice has long recognized the distinction between members who are merely absent and those beyond the chamber’s practical power to compel attendance. He believes the Wednesday session was consistent with the principles articulated in Avelino. Former Senate President Aquilino “Koko” Pimentel III has likewise expressed support for the position that the 12 senators present constituted a valid quorum under the circumstances. Whether one agrees with them or not, these are not casual opinions. They come from former Senate leaders who understand both the constitutional theory and the institutional realities of the chamber. Their support does not automatically settle the debate. But it should caution those who dismiss the 12-senator position as legally absurd. When two former Senate Presidents independently arrive at the same conclusion, the issue deserves more than slogans and social media certainty.

Yet critics raise concerns that deserve equal respect. They argue that the facts today differ significantly from those in Avelino. They point out that absent senators remain duly elected members whose seats are neither vacant nor forfeited. They also emphasize that Senate rules appear to require thirteen votes to elect Senate officers. Even some senators aligned with the new bloc acknowledged this distinction. Their position essentially says that twelve senators may perhaps convene and conduct certain business, but electing or replacing leadership may require a different threshold. That is not an unreasonable interpretation either. Rules exist precisely to prevent temporary majorities from redefining institutions whenever political winds shift.

The reality is that reasonable lawyers can read the same constitutional provision and reach different conclusions. What should worry us is not disagreement itself but the growing tendency to label every opposing interpretation as dishonest, partisan, or unconstitutional. Democracies survive disagreement. They struggle when citizens lose the ability to disagree in good faith.

What makes the controversy more troubling is how quickly constitutional interpretation has become another proxy for political loyalty. Many people seem less interested in understanding the arguments than in identifying which camp benefits from them. Constitutional questions deserve better than partisan reflexes.

As a teacher, I find the episode strangely familiar. Every school has experienced moments when procedure and practicality collide. Someone argues for flexibility. Someone else insists on strict compliance. Neither side is necessarily acting in bad faith. Often both are defending legitimate values. One protects effectiveness. The other protects integrity. Mature institutions recognize that these values must coexist. An organization obsessed only with efficiency risks becoming arbitrary. An organization obsessed only with procedure risks becoming immobile. The challenge is finding the balance that preserves both trust and functionality.

The quorum debate matters because constitutional rules matter. But rules are ultimately meant to serve governance. A Senate consumed by arguments over who occupies the chair risks forgetting why the chair exists at all.

Regardless of which interpretation eventually prevails, the Senate deserves scrutiny for allowing a procedural dispute to overshadow substantive governance. Leadership is tested not when institutions agree, but when they disagree. The public has every right to expect senators to defend their positions vigorously. It also has every right to expect them not to lose sight of the problems waiting beyond the chamber doors.

From where I sit, the better interpretation is usually the one that lets institutions continue serving people while respecting the Constitution. Most care less about political stalemates than whether government is actually working. A Constitution should protect democracy, yes, but it should also allow a nation to function and progress.

This is where I believe the larger truth lies. The country does not elect senators merely to count themselves correctly. It elects them to legislate, deliberate, investigate, and solve problems. A quorum is important because it allows the Senate to function. It is not the destination. It is the vehicle. When the argument over the vehicle becomes more important than the journey, something has gone wrong.

In the end, it is neither politicians, nor commentators, nor social media personalities, nor even the IBP that will have the final say. If the issue reaches the courts, that responsibility belongs to the Supreme Court. Until then, a little humility may serve the country better than absolute certainty. The Constitution is not a Facebook poll. Complex constitutional questions rarely yield simple answers.

What should concern us is not which faction temporarily wins the arithmetic. It is whether the Senate remembers why it exists at all. Legitimacy comes not only from satisfying legal thresholds but from demonstrating usefulness to the people who pay for the institution’s existence.

Institutions earn public trust when citizens see lawmakers showing up, doing their jobs, debating vigorously, following rules, and delivering results. The debate over 12 and 13 will eventually fade. The larger question will remain: Did the Senate spend this moment solving the nation’s problems, or simply counting its own members?

History is unlikely to remember who won the arithmetic argument. It will remember whether the Senate used this moment to address rising prices, strengthen public services, improve education, and respond to the needs of ordinary Filipinos. The real issue was never 12 or 13. It was whether the institution remained worthy of the public trust placed in it. While senators argue over who legitimately occupies the chair, millions are still waiting for someone to do the job.

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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.

Peter Kindfield

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