If there’s any consolation, now we know that not all statistical data are boring. Filipinos have the capacity to take stats seriously, especially if they’re tied to issues that matter to them.
Like food poverty.
Now we know that no one agrees that P 64 is all it takes to be not food-poor.
Just to be clear, food poverty refers to the inability to afford healthy and nutritious food. This happens when individuals and households do not have enough income to purchase the right amount of food to meet their dietary requirements. For the Philippine government, this amount translates to a little over P 21 per meal.
With this amount, a Filipino should be able to meet the bare minimum when it comes to energy and micronutrient requirements.
But Filipinos are not convinced.
So while the National Economic and Development Authority (NEDA) insists that the food threshold of P21 is useful in measuring the rise and fall of food poverty, many find it insulting. In fact, NEDA itself has admitted that the amount is not for a “decent standard of living.” It is instead for the bare minimum. With this amount, one should be able to buy eggs, rice, and coffee with milk for breakfast. Or for lunch: monggo, dilis, malunggay, rice, and banana.
As a sociologist, I understand the importance of statistical data. Although they’re not perfect, they can be helpful in measuring the prevalence of a problem. But the recent uproar over food poverty is indicative of problems so big for a simple metric.
Getting by
First, the uproar should lead our government officials to an important realization: Filipinos are tired of simply getting by.
Even if statistical data show that poverty has been declining over the years, this does not necessarily mean that more Filipinos can now afford healthy food, let alone convenient lifestyles.
So, while the amount of P 64 might say something about the decline of food poverty in the country, the standard that the government has set for itself is so low that Filipinos are insulted.
To be sure, our experts insist that this amount is not a prescription for families to plan their food budget accordingly.
But what exactly is the message that experts convey to the public when the bare minimum boils down to a specific set of ingredients? Surely, one cannot expect only to eat eggs, rice, and coffee for breakfast on a daily basis. Nor is it dignifying to say that for lunch, all one needs is monggo, dilis, malunggay, rice, and banana.
If we listened carefully to public sentiments, we’d recognize that dignity is at the core of their criticism.
Bigger problems
Second, the uproar also reveals that Filipinos are very much aware of the bigger problems confronting us.
This is in sharp contrast to the intent behind the food poverty metric. To be sure, it might make experts feel good that food poverty is declining. They can use it as evidence of the effectiveness of their programs.
Indeed, the Philippine Statistics Authority tells us that food poverty among Filipino families declined from 3.9% in 2021 to 2.7% in 2023.
But the overwhelming majority of Filipinos live in a different reality.
We can make this case based on a nationwide survey on self-rated food poverty. The latest data from SWS show that 33% of Filipino households consider themselves food-poor (based on a self-assessment of what they eat). If we include those on the border (between food-poor and not food-poor), the figure rises to 69%. In effect, only 31% of Filipino households are not food-poor.
For us in the social sciences, the way we frame questions determines the quality of answers we get from our informants. In this case, asking Filipinos to assess their level of food poverty based on what they eat might in fact be a better approximation of the real situation on the ground. This goes a long way in explaining why many Filipinos find the government metric suspicious.
Nutrition deprivation
The uproar over food poverty in the Philippines confirms that not all statistical data are the same. Some are better representations of social reality. If anything, the criticisms, if taken positively, call for better ways of understanding the extent of food poverty in the Philippines.
Take, for instance, nutrition deprivation among children. A recent UNICEF report reveals a disturbing finding. It turns out that 18% of Filipino children below five years old are “severely food-poor”. This figure translates to 2 million Filipino children who get to access only unhealthy food, sugary drinks, rice, and vegetable soup.
For context, UNICEF recommends that children access at least five of eight food groups: breast milk; grains and roots; nuts and seeds; dairy products; flesh foods (meat, fish, and poultry); eggs; Vitamin A-rich fruits and vegetables; and other vegetables.
The situation is clearly dire, especially if one considers the impact of malnutrition on their ability to learn and pursue viable educational and career options later in life. In this light, food poverty is not just a numbers game. Debating the “bare minimum” is too low a standard for us Filipinos.
What IBON Foundation has to say about these recent developments is spot-on: “If [there is] low-ambition, low-poverty threshold, low-effort to actually address poverty, guaranteed, the hidden poverty of the Philippines will keep growing.”
I believe in statistical data, and we need to rely on better ways of assessing food poverty in our society. But the issue is not only methodological. Ultimately, the public uproar over P64 is a resounding statement that for many of us Filipinos, the bare minimum is not good enough.
At the heart of people’s desire for nutritious food is the struggle for dignity. – Rappler.com
Jayeel Cornelio, PhD is Professor of Development Studies at the Ateneo de Manila University. He is currently the principal investigator on the 2024 Philippine Trust Study. Follow him on X @jayeel_cornelio.