The structural persistence of dynastic rule in the Philippines

The dynasty heat map reveals that political dynasties in the Philippines have shifted from primarily generational succession toward more concentrated and multi-positional forms of power. The analysis identifies that 90% of Filipinos now live in a jurisdiction—be it a province or city—governed by a dynasty. This dominance is most acute in "obese" dynasties, where a single family simultaneously holds five or more elected positions. Currently, 30 out of 82 provinces and 7 out of 39 cities are governed by these dense family networks, while only a small fraction—4 provinces and 5 cities—remain free from dynastic control. These families often consolidate power by occupying executive, legislative, and party-list seats at once, which may reduce the number of viable alternative candidates. High dynastic density should not be read as evidence of poor leadership or voter failure, but as an indicator of where political competition faces structural constraints.

The geographic distribution of these power concentrations is not random; rather, they form dense clusters primarily in Mindanao and parts of the Visayas, with emerging pockets in Luzon. The map functions as an empirical record of how family names extend horizontally across multiple offices rather than just vertically through generations. However, the data also highlights "fading" dynasties and intra-family rivalries, signaled by specific markers on the map. These instances of internal friction or electoral loss suggest that dynastic rule is not uniform or permanent. These signs of internal contestation indicate that while the playing field is heavily tilted, political fortunes can shift, providing specific data points where dominance has begun to fray. 

For policymakers and reformers, this visualization shifts the focus from individual family members to the broader political ecosystem. The extent of concentration highlights potential constraints on political competition in affected jurisdictions. The map serves as a dual-purpose tool: it identifies the structural hurdles to accountability in the darkest zones of concentration, while simultaneously pinpointing the specific areas where dynastic influence is weakening. This distinction is critical for developing reform strategies, as it suggests that political dominance is a structural problem that can be mapped, measured, and, in some instances, challenged through targeted intervention in areas where family control is no longer absolute.

This bivariate choropleth map overlays dynastic concentration with poverty incidence to address the central development question behind the anti-dynasty reform. A striking spatial pattern emerges: provinces with the highest concentration of "fat" dynasties frequently overlap with areas of sustained deprivation, most notably in parts of the BARMM and Eastern Visayas. It is also important to note that poverty also exists in non-dynastic areas, but patterns differ in persistence or responsiveness. While correlation does not inherently prove causation, the visual evidence suggests a structural relationship between political monopoly and underdevelopment. Prior literature suggests that concentrated political environments may incentivize short-term distributive strategies over long-term investment. 

However, the map also shows significant deviations that complicate a singular narrative of decline. Certain regions, such as Ilocos and parts of Metro Manila, host entrenched political families yet maintain lower poverty levels than the national average. While the data shows a clear poverty-dynasty correlation in the Visayas, the trend diverges again in the National Capital Region, suggesting that urban political economies operate under different rules of patronage. These cases suggest that dynastic dominance does not operate in a vacuum; urbanization, economic structure, and proximity to national markets can mitigate some of the negative developmental impacts of political concentration. These exceptions are analytically valuable, as they demonstrate that the relationship between family rule and economic outcomes is shaped by broader historical and geographic factors rather than a simple one-to-one causal link. The presence of dynastic rule does not by itself determine development outcomes; rather, the maps suggest that where dynastic concentration coincides with weak competition and limited accountability, development challenges are more likely to persist.

Ultimately, the map serves as a diagnostic tool for policymakers, framing political dynasties as a systemic development challenge rather than a purely legislative one. Since anti-dynasty laws remain politically difficult to pass, the data invites a focus on complementary reforms such as fiscal transparency, participatory budgeting, and performance-based transfers. By visualizing where political inequality and economic deprivation intersect, the map emphasizes that restoring meaningful competition is a necessary condition for inclusive growth. Addressing these "hotspots" requires a toolkit that strengthens local accountability mechanisms in the very places where power has become most inherited. 

This map visualizes one of the least visible yet most consequential effects of dynastic dominance: the progressive erosion of electoral competition itself. In the 2025 elections, 781 out of 3,620 contested positions—including governors, mayors, vice mayors, and district representatives—had only a single candidate. In many cases, that candidate belonged to a long-entrenched political clan or local strongman family. Elections still took place. Ballots were printed and counted. But in these areas, democratic choice was largely absent. Unopposed races rarely dominate headlines. They produce no debates and no dramatic election nights. Yet their democratic significance is profound. When candidates run without challengers, voters formally participate in elections but face limited candidate choice. That absence of choice is often mistaken for stability or public satisfaction, when it more often reflects deep imbalances in power, resources, and local influence.

This map pinpoints the areas of severely constrained electoral competition where choice has been effectively removed and at what level: provincial governors, city and municipal mayors, district representatives, and even mayor–vice mayor pairs drawn from the same family running without opposition. The pattern is uneven. Rural districts and smaller provincial towns show higher concentrations of uncontested races, but the map also reveals pockets of intensity close to metropolitan areas. This matters. It suggests that unopposed contests are not simply a rural phenomenon or a symptom of geographic isolation. They are embedded in specific political environments where access to campaign finance, control over local appointments and services, informal pressure, and entrenched networks combine to deter challengers. The map does not claim a single causal story. But it aligns closely with what reform advocates and election monitors have long observed on the ground.

There is an uncomfortable tension here. Unopposed races can be peaceful and predictable, and some communities may genuinely prefer continuity. The map does not dismiss that preference. Still, it raises a harder question about legitimacy. How democratic is a system where alternatives are effectively closed off? Over time, uncontested races limit political renewal, narrowing pathways for women, younger leaders, and marginalized voices. They normalize the idea that certain offices are inherited rather than earned. From a reform perspective, the message is clear. Where competition has collapsed, relying on voluntary turnover is not enough. Restoring meaningful choice may require intervention, including anti-dynasty measures, as a condition for genuine participation. And beyond the data, the map invites local stories. Each shaded area carries its own history. Understanding those stories is essential if reform is to move from diagnosis to change.

This map points to a tension at the heart of Philippine electoral politics: the coexistence of rare moments of change and a dominant pattern of continuity. In the 2025 elections, a small number of high-profile “flips” in places such as Cebu, Las Piñas, and Catanduanes demonstrated that voters are willing to support alternatives to entrenched power. These cases draw attention precisely because they are uncommon. Nationally, dynastic control remains the norm, with roughly 95 percent of provincial governments and close to nine in ten cities still held by established political families. Seen in this light, electoral turnover appears less as a steady current and more as a brief disturbance in an otherwise stable political landscape. The map does not dismiss these disturbances. It places them in context, asking what they represent and, perhaps more importantly, what they do not.

Visually, the contrast is striking. Pockets of change are scattered across a largely unaltered map. Some areas show signs of political fatigue: narrow victories over incumbents, reform candidates breaking through after long campaigns, or ruling families weakened by internal divisions. Cebu City and parts of Romblon stand out for this reason, and their inclusion feels earned. Yet the broader picture remains one of persistence. Most provinces and districts simply did not change hands. This unevenness matters. It suggests that while competition exists, it is highly uneven and often contingent on unusual circumstances. Electoral success in these cases tends to rely on unified opposition coalitions, exceptional candidates, or fractures within dominant clans. Without those conditions, challengers face steep odds. But data alone cannot capture the psychology of the incumbent or the voter. In many local districts, the dynasty is viewed not as an occupier, but as a provider of 'predictability' in an unstable state. This creates a paradox: voters may loathe the system but fear the chaos of its collapse. Consequently, 'resilience' is often less about popular support and more about a communal risk-aversion toward the unknown.

The map also invites a more cautious reading of reform narratives. It is tempting to treat each electoral upset as evidence that dynastic dominance is weakening. In practice, many of these gains prove fragile. Displaced families often regroup, mobilize resources, or pursue legal and administrative avenues to reclaim lost ground. From a reform perspective, this raises a hard question. If change depends on exceptional alignments, how durable can it be? The visualization points toward a dual conclusion. Electoral victories should be acknowledged and studied, but they cannot substitute for institutional reforms that reduce entrenched advantages. Political renewal, if it is to be sustained, cannot rely on rare breakthroughs alone.

This map sits at an uncomfortable intersection. On the surface, it reflects something the Philippines is often praised for: relatively high levels of women’s participation in formal politics. In the 2025 elections, more women won executive posts and legislative seats than in previous cycles, and those gains are visible across the country. The blue patches on the map signal real progress. Yet almost immediately, the map complicates that optimism. A significant share of these women entered office through established political families, frequently as wives, daughters, or sisters of male incumbents. A substantial share of newly elected women appear to have pre-existing familial ties to incumbent officeholders. That does not negate the achievement, but it does change how we should read it.

The distinction between dynastic and non-dynastic women matters because it shapes both access and autonomy. Family networks lower entry barriers. Name recall and access to campaign financing becomes easier. Party machinery opens up. I have spoken to women leaders who acknowledge this advantage openly, sometimes with a hint of discomfort, sometimes with pragmatism. Many are competent and committed public servants. Some govern independently and push policies that diverge from their family’s earlier positions. Still, the broader pattern remains. For women without these networks, the path into politics is steeper and riskier. Limited funding, weaker party backing, and exposure to political harassment make candidacy harder to sustain. The map does not claim that dynastic women lack agency, but it does show that opportunity is unevenly distributed. It is valuable to stress that the increased presence of women in elected office represents a meaningful democratic gain, regardless of pathway. Many women leaders—dynastic or otherwise—exercise real agency and independent authority once in office.

What makes the map especially useful is how it shows the exceptions. A smaller set of provinces and districts show women elected without dynastic ties. These cases are scattered, but instructive. They point to alternative routes: strong local movements, party support, or issue-based organizing. The party-list data reinforces this, suggesting that sectoral representation remains one of the more accessible entry points for non-dynastic women, even if that space is itself imperfect and increasingly contested. The larger question, which the map leaves intentionally unresolved, is about substance. Is success measured by the number of women in office, or by their capacity to shape policy, control budgets, and influence institutions? The answer matters. Where political entry is mediated primarily through family networks, broader gender inclusion may not translate into expanded political access for non-elite women. A serious equality agenda has to engage both sides of the equation: expanding women’s participation while confronting the dynastic structures that continue to shape who gets there, and how.

This final map shifts attention away from familiar electoral battlegrounds and toward a quieter but increasingly consequential arena: the party-list system. Originally designed to give marginalized sectors a foothold in national policymaking, party-list representation has, over time, become another channel through which established political families extend their reach. The map traces where winning party-list groups show clear links to dynastic networks, and the pattern is difficult to ignore. In several regions, party-lists operate alongside family-held district or executive posts, creating layered forms of influence that stretch from the local to the national level. What was meant as a corrective to elite dominance, in some cases, now functions as its supplement.

What this looks like in practice is not always obvious from election headlines. Party-list campaigns are often less visible, their candidates less scrutinized, their internal structures harder to decode. Yet the strategic logic is clear. For dynastic actors party-list representation may function as an additional channel of political continuity for some established families. A family facing uncertainty in a district race can still secure representation through a sectoral banner. In conversations with election observers and local organizers, this comes up repeatedly as a form of political hedging. The map illustrates that dynasties utilize the party-list system not merely for representation, but as a form of institutional insurance. By securing a party-list seat, a family creates a 'fail-safe' mechanism—if a local district race is lost or a term limit is reached, the clan maintains its national legislative presence and access to state resources. Representation is maintained across multiple institutional arenas. Contestation in one arena does not necessarily threaten overall influence. The map captures this redundancy. It shows how political control adapts rather than withdraws when faced with pressure, finding new institutional routes rather than relinquishing space.

At the same time, the map resists a simple condemnation. The patterns observed reflect gaps in institutional safeguards rather than the intent or legitimacy of all party-list organizations. Not all party-list groups are dynastic proxies. Some remain genuinely rooted in labor, agrarian, women’s, or sectoral movements and continue to articulate interests that would otherwise be absent from Congress. That coexistence matters. It suggests that reform cannot be blunt. The challenge is not the party-list system itself, but the absence of safeguards strong enough to distinguish representation from capture. Clearer rules on nominee selection, transparency in funding, and stricter enforcement of sectoral criteria are often discussed, but rarely prioritized. The map explains why these reforms are increasingly raised in policy debates. Institutions shape behavior. When design leaves openings, actors step through them. If the party-list system is to fulfill its original purpose, reform must address how dynastic power now moves through it, not just where it appears most visibly.