About the Author:
Marcel Anne C. Balicog is a Bachelor of Science in Fine Arts major in Industrial Design student at Bohol Island State University–Main Campus. A multi-awarded campus journalist and student leader, she has earned distinctions such as Champion in the 2025 OSSEI News Reporting competition, Champion in News Writing PAGMULAT 2023, and Best Diplomat at the Asian Youth International Model United Nations 2023 in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. She is also actively involved in various organizations, serving as Chief News Editor of The Senior Craftsmen’s Voice, Project Chairperson of the Rotaract Club BISU Main Chapter, and Diocesan Secretariat for the Campus Ministry Student Catholic Action. Describing herself as a catalyst, she thrives on turning potential into reality and making a lasting impact on both her community and peers.
The Price of Laughing It Off
words by: Marcel Anne Balicog
When a joke goes viral, the country lights up overnight. Timelines explode. Group chats buzz. News outlets keep it alive for days. It feels like the final act of a comedy show where everyone’s laughing so hard they forget the lights will eventually turn back on.
But think about it. Offensive remarks and inappropriate jokes have surfaced many times before. They may draw outrage for a while, but soon after, the noise fades and attention shifts to the next trending issue. Our reactions are often shaped less by what was said and more by who said it. That is not accountability. That is selective outrage.
In many communities, the phrase “Bohol is Gold” has turned into a sarcastic truth. Prices feel overwhelmingly high. While the cost of living may be lower compared to major cities, rising inflation, tourism growth, and infrastructure development have pushed expenses upward. Dining out in Tagbilaran often costs a few hundred pesos per person. Rent in popular areas has noticeably increased over the past year. For students, daily transportation fares now take a larger portion of their weekly allowance.a
Yet when streets flood after heavy rain or potholes remain unrepaired for months, the common response is to post videos, add witty captions, and scroll on to the next meme. The problem is not the use of humor itself, but when humor becomes the only way we respond.
We, the youth, are the largest demographic online. We can turn frustrations into trending content overnight. We can fill parks for a fan meet or crowd a mall for a product launch, yet a public forum on fare hikes might barely gather an audience. It is easier to roast poor infrastructure in a skit than to attend a symposium. Humor has become our shield, and too often, our excuse.
Many young Filipinos rely on humor as a coping mechanism for political and economic frustrations. Coping is natural. But when jokes replace civic engagement, they stop being harmless. It is like watching The Hunger Games and only caring about the costumes while ignoring that the games are still being played beyond the screen.
There is also the danger of blind loyalty. Too often, admired figures are defended no matter the harm caused by their words or actions, while disliked individuals are attacked more harshly even for smaller offenses. This turns politics into fandoms and governance into a popularity contest. It creates double standards that shield the powerful from scrutiny.
Comedy works because the audience sees itself in the joke. The danger lies when the show ends and nothing changes outside the theater. If the loudest reactions are to punchlines but silence surrounds urgent issues such as food prices, infrastructure, or disaster response, then we are only laughing at our own expense.
Until we speak as strongly about real issues as we do about viral jokes, the price of laughing it off will keep getting higher. And the punchline is not on the stage or the screen.
It is on us. We are the joke.