A Story of Typhoons
It was December 2018 when, as usually happens during this time of the year, typhoons (the eastern counterpart of hurricanes) strike Southeast Asia (Pacific Ocean) with heavy rain and extreme storms.
Coincidentally, a friend happened to be in the tourist area of El Nido, Philippines, at the wrong place and at the wrong time.
Typhoons, like any other force of nature, have a deadly impact both in developed countries (such as South Korea) and in developing countries (such as the Philippines). The latter usually have less infrastructure, fewer public services; in short, fewer resources.
This friend recounts that, during the days of the typhoon, which usually last several days, the rain fell with such intensity and abundance that the streets (without storm drainage) turned into rivers, cars into canoes, and pedestrians into swimmers. All of this almost literally (beyond the metaphorical sense).
Coincidentally, the tourist explains that one of the final days of the typhoon was the day to catch a flight to another country. In other words, the first challenge was getting to the airport. And secondly, the aircraft needed suitable weather conditions in order to take off.
That day, the story continues, when the rain eased slightly, the expedition departed for the airport. The van hired for the purpose took every possible detour until the unexpected (or perhaps not so unexpected) happened. On one of the city’s main roads leading to the airport, there was a channel of water impossible for an ordinary vehicle to cross. As time passed, several vehicles accumulated and became stranded in the same spot.
After a couple of hours, the cavalry finally arrived.
The Philippine armed forces had to take charge of the situation and, with the help of armored vehicles and trucks whose wheels exceeded the ordinary size for any civilian vehicle, transported everyone directly to the airport.
The scene combined a bit of tragedy, salvation, and an atmosphere reminiscent of war.
A Story of Taxes and Rights
Beyond the drama, the anecdote contains a simple yet revealing story.
The intervention of the Philippine armed forces to save the day represents many things, but – for the purposes of this analysis – primarily one: the national budget of the Republic of the Philippines.
How much does it cost the Philippine State to intervene in situations like this and mobilize its armed forces to solve problems caused by extreme weather? In other words, how much does the “right” of tourists to access this kind of government assistance cost?
The answer to both questions has been carefully studied by Stephen Holmes and Cass Sunstein in the work “The Cost of Rights” [1], in which they analyze and argue why freedom (or rights in general) depend – almost literally – on the payment of taxes.
The logic behind Holmes and Sunstein’s thesis is very simple. The text of legal norms contains powerful phrases such as the “right to education” or the “right to security” which, although encouraging in theory, in empirical reality depend almost inevitably on the state budget and public spending associated with each right.
In the same sense, the right to education depends on how much the State spends (or invests) in the national education system. The right to education means very little if the State does not allocate resources to pay teachers and build new schools. Likewise, the right to security will be more or less effective depending on the funds allocated by the State to train the National Police to protect citizens, and so on.
The other side of this coin, of course, is the origin of these resources. In a state such as ours, the main source (though not the only one) of public finances is the contribution of taxpayers through taxes. This flow of funds is later transformed, through the democratic exercise of the National Congress, into the General Budget of the Nation, which each year involves competing interests associated with the various sectors in which the funds must be allocated.
This concept – once again – carries a simple yet very concrete meaning. The counterpart of the rule of law is efficient public spending. Without resources, the effective protection of rights is impossible.
These ideas also apply to Paraguay. The latest General Budget of the Nation (2025) was set at G. 133,210,000 million (approximately USD 18.5 billion). Of this total, in theory, the National Constitution provides that no less than 3% must be allocated to the Judiciary, and no less than 20% to education. With these values, if constitutional rules were respected (which is not always the case), the Paraguayan State would have approximately USD 555 million for an efficient justice system. Additionally, it would have an estimated USD 3.7 billion for education. All of this, of course, assuming the budget were executed fully and without corruption.
For these reasons (and others), perhaps Paraguay ranks among the lowest positions in global rankings for education and justice systems[2].
Finally, before speaking of “we have the right to…”, we should carefully examine the resources we are investing to make the letter of the law a reality. Otherwise, we will remain drowned in flooded streets as a consequence of typhoons and the wasteful use of public spending.
Partner
[1] S. Holmes, C. Sunstein; “The Cost of Rights – Why Liberty Depends on Taxes”; Siglo Veintiuno Editores, Buenos Aires (2012)
[2] Justice: Paraguay ranks 100 out of 140 countries; https://worldjusticeproject.org/rule-of-law-index/global
Education: Paraguay ranks among the lowest positions in the OECD PISA report; https://blogs.iadb.org/educacion/es/pruebas-pisa-2022-america-latina-caribe/