A Story of Typhoons
It was December 2018 when, as is usually the case at this time of year, typhoons (the eastern counterpart of hurricanes) struck Southeast Asia (Pacific Ocean), bringing heavy rain and extreme storms.
Coincidentally, a friend happened to be in the tourist area of El Nido, Philippines, in the wrong place 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 typically have less infrastructure, fewer public services—in short, fewer resources.
This friend recounts that, during the typhoon—which usually lasts several days—the rain fell with such intensity and in such abundance that the streets (which lacked storm drains) 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 last days of the typhoon was the day he was scheduled to catch a flight to another country. In other words, the first challenge was getting to the airport. And second, the plane needed suitable weather conditions in order to take off.
The story continues: That day, when the rain let up slightly, the expedition set out for the airport. The van hired for the trip 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 stream of water that an ordinary vehicle could not cross. As time went on, several vehicles piled up 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 were larger than those of any ordinary civilian vehicle, transported everyone directly to the airport.
The scene combined a touch of tragedy, salvation, and an atmosphere reminiscent of war.
A Story of Taxes and Rights
Beyond the drama, the anecdote tells a simple yet revealing story.
The intervention of the Philippine armed forces to save the day symbolizes 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 government to intervene in situations like this and mobilize its armed forces to address 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 examined by Stephen Holmes and Cass Sunstein in their 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 vein, 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. Similarly, 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 country like 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 process of the National Congress, into the General Budget of the Nation, which each year involves competing interests associated with the various sectors to which the funds must be allocated.
This concept—once again—has a simple yet very concrete meaning. The counterpart to 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 National General Budget (2025) was set at G. 133,210,000 million (approximately USD 18.5 billion). Of this total, in theory, the National Constitution stipulates that no less than 3% must be allocated to the judiciary, and no less than 20% to education. Based on these figures, if constitutional provisions were upheld (which is not always the case), the Paraguayan government 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, assumes that the budget were fully implemented and free of corruption.
For these reasons (and others), perhaps Paraguay ranks near the bottom of global rankings for education and justice systems[2].
Finally, before we start saying “we have the right to…,” we should carefully examine the resources we are investing to ensure that the letter of the law is upheld. Otherwise, we will continue to be stranded in flooded streets as a result of typhoons and the wasteful use of public funds.
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 100th out of 140 countries; https://worldjusticeproject.org/rule-of-law-index/global
Education: Paraguay ranks near the bottom in the OECD's PISA report; https://blogs.iadb.org/educacion/es/pruebas-pisa-2022-america-latina-caribe/
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