SALN Showdown: Remulla’s Memo – Transparency Triumph or Bureaucratic Trap

A Battle for the Public’s Right to Know

By Louis “Barok” C. Biraogo — October 21, 2025

MGA ka-kweba, gather ’round the digital campfire, because the Ombudsman’s latest act in the never-ending saga of Statement of Assets, Liabilities, and Net Worth (SALN) access is serving up drama hotter than a Quiapo telenovela. On one side, we have Ombudsman Jesus Crispin Remulla, waving Memorandum Circular No. 3, series of 2025 (MC 3) like a shiny new flag of transparency, boldly scrapping the absurd consent requirement of his predecessor’s 2020 memo. On the other, the Right to Know Right Now Coalition (R2KRN), the biggest network of advocates for the Freedom of Information (FOI) bill, is crying foul, calling this supposed victory a bureaucratic sleight-of-hand that gives with one hand while slapping requesters with red tape with the other. So, is this a win for the people’s right to know, or a masterclass in how to dress up opacity as openness? Let’s put MC 3 on the stand and cross-examine it, Barok-style.

The Battle: Transparency vs. The Paperwork Gauntlet

This isn’t just about forms or procedures; it’s the latest skirmish in the eternal war between the public’s constitutional right to know and the bureaucracy’s love affair with control. The 1987 Philippine Constitution, Article III, Section 7, declares with the clarity of a church bell: “The right of the people to information on matters of public concern shall be recognized.” SALNs—those juicy ledgers of public officials’ wealth—are the people’s window into whether our leaders are living modestly or like modern-day rajahs. Republic Act No. 6713 (RA 6713), the Code of Conduct and Ethical Standards for Public Officials and Employees, doubles down, mandating SALNs be open for inspection at reasonable hours and available for copying after ten working days, “subject to prescribed regulations.” No mention of needing to grovel or explain why you’re curious.

Enter MC 3. Remulla deserves a polite golf clap for torching the old consent rule, which was about as democratic as asking a fox to guard the henhouse. But then he rolls out a new set of hoops: a sworn request form demanding your “purpose,” a requirement to submit SALN-based reports if you’re media or a researcher, and vague denial grounds like “harassment” or “link to a pending case.” Oh, and no clear timelines or appeal process if your request gets the bureaucratic black hole treatment. R2KRN calls these “excessive procedural barriers.” I call it transparency with an asterisk—because nothing screams “public trust” like making citizens justify their curiosity to the very officials they’re supposed to oversee.

The Cross-Examination: Is MC 3 a Guardian or a Gatekeeper?

Let’s sharpen our legal machete and hack through the memo’s key provisions, testing them against the Constitution, RA 6713, and the Supreme Court’s own playbook.

1. The “Prior Restraint” Charge: Why Must I Justify My Right?

R2KRN argues that requiring a sworn statement of purpose is a “prior restraint” on the constitutional right to information. Let’s look at the law. Article III, Section 7 of the 1987 Constitution guarantees access to public records without demanding a reason. Section 8 of RA 6713 echoes this, stating SALNs “shall be made available” for inspection and copying, with no hint that you need to write an essay about your intentions. The Supreme Court in Valmonte v. Belmonte (1989) was crystal clear: the right to information is self-executory, and citizens don’t need to show a specific need to peek into public records.

But here’s the Ombudsman, playing gatekeeper, asking, “Bakit mo gusto malaman?” The memo’s defenders might point to the Supreme Court’s own rules (A.M. No. 09-8-6-SC, 2012), which require a purpose statement for accessing justices’ SALNs. Fair enough—some procedural guardrails are kosher to prevent abuse. But the Court’s rules are narrow, transparent, and paired with timelines and appeals. MC 3’s purpose requirement, on the other hand, feels like a blank check for bureaucrats to play favorites. If you say “to check for corruption,” will they smile and hand it over? If you say “to expose a politician,” will they clutch their pearls and deny you? Without clear standards, this smells like a restraint dressed up as a safeguard. Strike one.

2. The “Chilling Effect” Provision: Submit Your Homework or Else

Then there’s the bizarre demand that media and researchers submit SALN-based reports or outputs post-access. R2KRN calls this “administrative surveillance,” and they’re not wrong. Imagine a journalist digging into a senator’s suspiciously ballooning assets, only to be told, “Hand over your article for our review.” This isn’t accountability; it’s Big Brother with a red pen. Article III, Section 4 of the Constitution protects press freedom, and the Supreme Court has warned against measures that intimidate journalists (Chavez v. PCGG, 1998).

The Ombudsman might argue this prevents commercial misuse—like selling SALN data for profit. Fine, but why not require a simple undertaking not to misuse the data, as the Data Privacy Act (Republic Act No. 10173) suggests? Instead, MC 3’s output submission rule risks scaring off investigative reporters and academics, who’ll think twice before poking the bear if they know their work will be scrutinized by the very office they’re investigating. The Supreme Court’s rules ask for media affiliation but don’t demand your final draft. This provision is a sledgehammer where a scalpel would do. Strike two.

3. The “Black Hole” of Discretion: Vague Denials, No Timelines, No Appeals

The memo’s denial grounds—”link to a pending case,” “harassment,” “unauthorized commercial purpose”—sound reasonable until you realize they’re as vague as a politician’s campaign promise. What counts as “harassment”? Who decides if a request “influences” a case? Without defined criteria or a public log of denials, these grounds are a bureaucrat’s playground for saying “no” without accountability. Worse, there’s no timeline for processing requests and no appeal process if you’re rejected. Section 5(A) of RA 6713 demands prompt action on public requests (within 15 days), and due process under Article III, Section 1 of the Constitution requires remedies for arbitrary denials.

The Supreme Court’s access rules, by contrast, set clear response windows (e.g., 10 days for simple requests) and allow motions for reconsideration or appeals to the En Banc (A.M. No. 09-8-6-SC). MC 3’s silence on these is a procedural abyss, inviting delays that are tantamount to denials. In practice, a custodian could sit on your request until the sun burns out, and you’d have no recourse but to file a costly mandamus case. This isn’t transparency; it’s a bureaucratic filibuster. Strike three.

The Ombudsman’s Defense: A Half-Hearted Nod

To be fair, Remulla’s not entirely asleep at the wheel. Scrapping the consent requirement is a big deal—former Ombudsman Martires’ 2020 memo was a middle finger to transparency, letting officials hide their SALNs behind a “no consent, no access” wall. MC 3 also nods to preventing harassment and commercial exploitation, which are real concerns. SALNs contain sensitive data—bank accounts, home addresses—that could be misused for extortion or identity theft. The Data Privacy Act and Section 8(D) of RA 6713 support safeguards against abuse. The Supreme Court itself allows denial of requests for “improper motives” like harassment, so some gatekeeping isn’t inherently evil.

But here’s the rub: MC 3’s methods are a blunt instrument, like using a flamethrower to crack a walnut. Narrow, transparent rules—like requiring ID or a basic undertaking not to misuse data—could protect officials without turning requesters into supplicants. Instead, the memo’s vague, discretionary provisions and lack of procedural guardrails make it a tool for delay and denial, not a shield against abuse.

The Path Forward: Fixing the Mess

This isn’t just about griping; it’s about solutions. Here’s how to turn MC 3 from a bureaucratic boondoggle into a true transparency tool.

Short-Term Fixes: Three Immediate Amendments

Scrap the Purpose Requirement: If the Ombudsman insists on a form, make it minimal—name, ID, contact, done. No “why do you want it?” nonsense. The Constitution and RA 6713 don’t require it, and neither should the Ombudsman.
Set a 15-Day Response Deadline: Align with RA 6713’s promptness mandate. Acknowledge requests within 5 days, decide within 15. No action? It’s a deemed denial, triggering appeal rights.
Create a Simple Appeals Process: Allow a motion for reconsideration to a designated Ombudsman official, resolved in 10 days. No resolution? File for judicial review. This mirrors the Supreme Court’s rules and keeps the system honest.

Long-Term: The FOI Dream

This controversy screams for a real Freedom of Information Law. The Philippines has been flirting with an FOI bill for decades, but it’s stuck in Congress like a jeepney in EDSA traffic. A robust FOI law would standardize SALN access across agencies, set clear timelines, and mandate appeals, ending the patchwork of agency-specific rules. It would also align SALN release with the Data Privacy Act, ensuring sensitive data is redacted while keeping public-interest info (like asset totals) open. Until Congress grows a spine, civil society like R2KRN must keep the pressure on, and the Ombudsman should coordinate with the Civil Service Commission (CSC) and National Privacy Commission (NPC) to harmonize rules.

The Knockout Punch: Transparency Is Non-Negotiable

MC 3 isn’t the villain of this telenovela, but it’s not the hero either. It’s a half-step toward transparency, hobbled by bureaucratic instincts to control and conceal. The Constitution and RA 6713 are clear: SALNs are public documents, not state secrets. Public office is a public trust, and every hurdle placed in the people’s path—every vague denial ground, every missing deadline—chips away at that trust.

To Ombudsman Remulla: You’ve taken a bold first step. Now finish the job. Strip away the red tape, define your rules, and give the public a clear path to hold officials accountable. To R2KRN and the Filipino people: Keep fighting. File those requests, demand those appeals, and, if needed, drag this to court. The right to know isn’t just a legal principle; it’s the soul of democracy. Let’s not let it drown in a sea of sworn affidavits and bureaucratic excuses.