ICI Closed Door Investigations: 'Ghost Projects", Now “Ghost Hearings” too?

Wazzup Pilipinas!? 

When Brian Hosaka, Executive Director of the Independent Commission for Infrastructure (ICI), declared that the hearings on alleged corruption within the DPWH would not be made public — expressing fears that livestreaming might mislead the public — the decision instantly fueled public skepticism. “It’s a very dangerous thing if we livestream it and at the same time, people might be misled. [We] want the people to trust [that] we will be doing our job fairly, objectively, and independently,” Hosaka said.

But why keep it hidden? For a public long burdened by corruption scandals, secrecy only breeds suspicion. When decisions are made away from public eyes, trust doesn’t grow — it withers.

Light and the Lamp: Why Transparency Matters

“Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house.” (Matthew 5:15)

Transparency is the lamp. If an investigation is conducted behind closed doors, silence ceases to be golden and instead becomes the breeding ground of doubt. As the saying goes: “Keep it quiet long enough, and silence becomes suspicious.”

The ICI exists to safeguard the integrity of national infrastructure projects. Yet, its members are appointed by the President. In such a setup, it is natural for citizens to question: where does independence truly begin and political influence end? Independence is not proven by mere declarations — it is demonstrated through openness.

Transparency Is Not the Enemy of Due Process — It’s the Foundation

The ICI argues that secrecy or limited access is necessary to protect the integrity of the investigation. Protecting evidence and the process is valid. But sealing the hearings entirely from the public eye produces the opposite effect: it erodes the very trust they claim to protect.

Livestreaming or publishing proceedings, handled responsibly with redactions when necessary, does not mislead the people. On the contrary, it empowers them to see that justice is being pursued without hidden agendas. Transparency is not the adversary of fairness — it is the proof of fairness.

Practical Steps Toward Genuine Trust

Livestream public hearings — technology allows moderation of live feeds, redaction of sensitive testimonies, and safeguards for witnesses. The default must be openness, with exceptions justified.

Release redacted transcripts — publish full proceedings, with clear explanations for any redactions.

Body cams for site inspections — bring cameras during field investigations to show real conditions on the ground. Let the public see what inspectors see.

Civil society oversight — invite trusted NGOs and media partners to monitor, ensuring multiple independent records of the process.

Publish clear timelines and milestones — show the people when to expect initial findings, recommendations, and follow-ups.

Why Public Trust Is at Stake

Decades of corruption — overpriced projects, unfinished infrastructure, and outright “ghost projects” — have hardened public cynicism. When an institution like ICI chooses secrecy without strong justification, citizens are quick to assume the worst.

Trust cannot be demanded; it must be earned. The moment ICI members were appointed by the President, they were handed the chance to prove independence. They must show it by welcoming scrutiny, not avoiding it. If they truly have nothing to hide, public oversight should not be feared but embraced.

In the End: Light vs. Shadows

“What is hidden in darkness expose it in the light, God cannot be mocked what a man soweth he reapeth.”

Justice cannot thrive in shadows. Citizens are not asking for instant judgment — only the right to witness the process. Not for sensationalism, but for accountability.

In the Philippines, where faith in institutions is battered, transparency is no longer optional. It is the only way for the ICI’s findings — whether criminal, civil, or administrative — to be seen as legitimate.

As founder of Wazzup Pilipinas, I call on the ICI: open your windows. Livestream the hearings. Show the process. Prove independence not with words, but through actions visible to the people. Let the people be aware of the process and how you worked. 

For in a nation scarred by corruption, light is not a luxury. It is a necessity. And if the ICI is truly on the side of truth, then it must allow that light to shine.

Super Typhoon Ragasa: The Philippines on the Frontline of Climate Change

Wazzup Pilipinas!? 

The Philippines has long carried the weight of the world’s most powerful storms, but Super Typhoon Ragasa has pushed the nation into yet another chapter of climate-induced devastation. What unfolded in late September 2025 was not just a natural disaster—it was a chilling testament to how human-caused climate change is rewriting the country’s weather reality.

A Storm Like No Other

Between September 20 and 21, Ragasa underwent extreme rapid intensification, strengthening by 137 kilometers per hour (85 mph) in barely 24 hours. By the time it reached its peak, the monster storm was packing sustained winds of 266 kph (165 mph)—making it the most powerful storm in the world this year.

According to climate scientists, the conditions that allowed Ragasa to explode in power were not ordinary. Sea surface temperatures in the Philippine Sea were 0.7 to 1.1°C above normal, providing a supercharged fuel source. Climate Central’s Climate Shift Index (CSI) analysis found that these unusually warm waters were 10 to 40 times more likely because of human-caused climate change.

Dr. Daniel Gilford, meteorologist and climate scientist, explained:

“Super Typhoon Ragasa intensified over waters made hotter by human-caused climate change. These exceptionally warm sea surface temperatures increased the chances that Ragasa would rapidly intensify — and it did, becoming the most powerful typhoon this year.”

When Ragasa Struck Home

On September 22, Ragasa roared into the Philippines, slamming Panuitan Island in the north. Its winds ripped roofs off houses, roads were cut off by landslides, and coastal villages were left underwater. At least three Filipinos were killed, and thousands more were forced to flee their homes.

For families already living on the edge, the typhoon was devastating. Farmers watched their crops vanish in a matter of hours, while fisherfolk saw their boats destroyed—their only means of livelihood gone. Mountain communities were left isolated as landslides blocked vital access roads.

It is a cruel reality for a nation ranked among the most disaster-prone in the world: every storm season brings not just rain and wind, but the haunting fear of another tragedy.

A Nation Bearing the Brunt

The Philippines has always been a frontline state in the battle against climate change. But Ragasa is a painful reminder that the fight is no longer about prevention—it is about survival.

Infrastructure remains fragile, with many homes built from light materials that cannot withstand super typhoon winds.

Communities lack resources for full recovery before the next storm hits.

Lives are repeatedly upended, with displacement, hunger, and poverty deepening after every disaster.

And yet, the science makes it clear: storms like Ragasa are not just acts of God. They are intensified by human choices—by decades of unchecked carbon emissions, deforestation, and reliance on fossil fuels.

Global Problem, Local Consequences

The Philippines may contribute less than 1% of global greenhouse gas emissions, yet it is among the countries that suffer most. Ragasa’s fury is part of a wider pattern:

In August, Japan and South Korea baked in record-breaking heat, made five times more likely by climate change.

In the United States, wildfires and heatwaves pushed temperatures up to 30°F above normal, affecting millions.

Across the Atlantic, Hurricane Erin reached Category 5 strength, fueled by abnormally warm ocean waters.

These global events prove one thing: the crisis is shared, but the burden is not equal. Nations like the Philippines are paying the heaviest price for a warming world they did little to create.

Turning Grief into Action

The story of Ragasa should not end with its destruction. It should be a rallying cry for stronger climate action—both at home and abroad.

At the local level, the Philippines must strengthen disaster preparedness, enforce resilient building codes, and invest in renewable energy.

At the global stage, wealthier nations must be held accountable for financing climate adaptation and paying into the loss-and-damage fund agreed upon in international climate talks.

For Filipinos, the question is no longer whether the storms will come—it is how strong they will be, and how ready the country will be when they do.

Super Typhoon Ragasa was more than a weather event; it was a warning. And if the world does not act decisively, the Philippines will continue to live under the shadow of storms it did not summon but must endure.

From Invisible Discoveries to Public Good: Mainstreaming Science Through Solutions Journalism

Wazzup Pilipinas!? 

Much of the world’s science never reaches the public eye. Countless discoveries remain buried in journals, behind paywalls, or lost in technical jargon—while the challenges of climate change, health inequity, and technological disruption demand urgent, accessible communication. As journalists, we have the responsibility not only to expose problems but to amplify the responses and solutions that science offers.

This proposal argues that science journalism must evolve from a reactive model—reporting crises, scandals, or breakthroughs in isolation—to a proactive model that frames science as part of the solution ecosystem. By combining investigative rigor with solutions journalism, we can help societies bridge knowledge gaps, counter misinformation, and inspire action.

Key Questions

What happens to science that remains invisible to the public, and how do we bring it into the mainstream conversation?

How can journalists highlight not just the “what” of scientific discovery but also the “so what” and “now what”?

How can solutions-oriented science journalism empower policymakers, communities, and ordinary citizens to act on knowledge rather than be overwhelmed by problems?

Proposed Contribution

I propose to deliver a 30-minute session (talk + interactive discussion) that explores practical frameworks and strategies for making science solutions journalism impactful in a fragmented world. This includes:

Case Studies: Stories from Asia and beyond where science reporting shifted from problem-centric to solution-centric framing (e.g., renewable energy innovations in rural communities, low-cost health diagnostics, and AI in disaster resilience).

Techniques: How to translate technical research into narratives that resonate with audiences—while maintaining accuracy.

Challenges: Navigating misinformation, political polarization, and public distrust in science.

Recommendations: A roadmap for journalists, researchers, and communicators to collaborate in making science not just visible but actionable.

Why This Matters

In a world fragmented by misinformation, ideological divides, and uneven access to resources, science journalism has the power to act as a bridge. By shifting focus toward solutions, journalists can illuminate pathways forward, give hope, and foster trust between science and society.

This contribution aligns with SJAI’s 2025 theme by offering both conceptual frameworks and practical tools to elevate the visibility and relevance of science in public discourse.

Opening (2–3 minutes)

Good morning everyone.

Let me begin with a question:

What happens to science that remains invisible?

When discoveries stay locked in journals, hidden behind paywalls, or buried in jargon, the public never sees them. Policymakers never act on them. Communities never benefit from them. And in that silence, something else grows: misinformation, distrust, and missed opportunities for change.

This is the paradox we live in today. We are in the most scientifically advanced era of human history—yet much of that science is invisible to the people who need it most.

Section 1: The Problem of Invisible Science (5 minutes)

Let’s be honest: traditional science journalism often focuses on either crisis or breakthrough. We write about melting ice caps, viral outbreaks, corruption in public health spending—or we celebrate a Nobel Prize discovery or a rocket launch.

But what about the research that falls in between?

The quiet progress of scientists developing low-cost diagnostics in small labs.

The community-driven projects turning plastic waste into construction material.

The climate scientists working with farmers to improve local food resilience.

These stories are not invisible because they lack value. They’re invisible because they don’t fit neatly into our problem-obsessed news cycle.

And invisibility has consequences:

It widens the knowledge gap between scientists and the public.

It gives more room for misinformation to thrive.

It reinforces the narrative that science is distant, elitist, and irrelevant to daily life.

Section 2: A Shift Toward Solutions (7 minutes)

But here’s the good news: journalism doesn’t have to be a mirror of problems. It can be a window to solutions.

Solutions journalism asks:

Not just “What’s wrong?” but also “What’s working?”

Not just “Who’s to blame?” but also “Who’s responding, and how?”

Let me share three examples:

Renewable Energy in Rural Asia

Instead of covering only the energy crisis, journalists highlighted how microgrids powered by solar energy were transforming rural communities. That coverage attracted policymakers’ attention—and funding followed.

Affordable Diagnostics in Public Health

In India and the Philippines, journalists who reported on low-cost tuberculosis and diabetes test kits didn’t stop at describing the disease burden. They emphasized how these innovations were saving lives in resource-poor settings. That reporting influenced NGOs and hospitals to adopt the solutions faster.

AI in Disaster Resilience

After typhoons and earthquakes, most stories focus on devastation. But when coverage highlights how artificial intelligence helps forecast risks and save communities, it shifts the narrative from despair to preparedness.

In all three cases, journalism didn’t just inform. It inspired action.

Section 3: Tools and Techniques (5 minutes)

So, how do we make science solutions journalism work in practice?

Here are three techniques I’ve found effective:

Translate without Diluting

Strip away the jargon, but never sacrifice accuracy. Instead of saying “CRISPR-based gene-editing diagnostics,” say “a genetic test that can spot disease faster and cheaper than current hospital methods.”

Frame Around Impact

Every story should answer not just what is happening, but why it matters now. Who benefits? How scalable is this solution? What obstacles remain?

Include Community Voices

Science stories often privilege the lab coat. But real trust builds when we also hear from the farmer, the patient, the student who experiences the impact of innovation firsthand.

Section 4: Challenges and Opportunities (5 minutes)

Of course, this is not easy work.

We battle misinformation spreading faster than any peer-reviewed study.

We face political polarization, where science gets weaponized.

And often, scientists themselves are wary of speaking to journalists, fearing misrepresentation.

But within these challenges lies opportunity. Every fragmented conversation is a chance for us to rebuild trust. Every invisible discovery is a chance for us to make it visible—relevant, engaging, and actionable.

Section 5: Call to Action (3 minutes)

So I return to the question: What happens to science that remains invisible?

It gets forgotten. It gets misused. Or worse, it never reaches the people who could have benefited from it.

But when we bring science out of the shadows—when we report not just the problems, but the responses—journalism becomes more than a record. It becomes a catalyst.

As journalists, communicators, and researchers, we are not just storytellers. We are bridge-builders. We connect discovery to society. We turn knowledge into action. And in a fragmented world, that may be the most powerful role we can play.

Closing (2 minutes)

Thank you. I look forward to hearing your thoughts—and learning how together we can make invisible science visible, not just for headlines, but for humanity.

Timing: This script runs about 25 minutes, leaving 15 minutes for Q&A, perfectly matching the 40-minute session format.