There are parents who steal from their children’s achievements because they raised them and paid for their education. There are businesspeople who expect certain beneficial policies to be passed because they paid for a politician’s campaign. There are friends who expect you to always serve them because they helped you out once, in a serious time of need.
On the one hand, there are things to be grateful for, and on the other, there is egotistic power tripping. “Intindihin mo na, matanda na eh.” “Uy, magulang mo pa rin ‘yan.” We let a lot of abuse and exploitation happen because of our cultural expectations.
They are your parents, of course they have your best intentions! They are your friends, of course we are meant to serve each other. But just because they invested in your potential does not mean that they care about you as a person.
Virgilio Enriquez, a pioneer in the field of Sikolohiyang Pilipino, said that we focus too much on the “utang” part and not so much on the philosophically rich “loob” aspect of it
Many people are trapped in a survival mindset, where life is very kaniya-kaniya. Maybe, at some point in their life, they too were powerless, and regaining that power means having power over others. To them, relationships are not equal, but transactional. They do not love, they need. This is why “utang na loob” as a “debt of gratitude” can be so toxic, especially when it is weaponized to use others and take resources from them.
But if something is “toxic,” it implies a “healthy” or “nourishing” alternative. Virgilio Enriquez, a pioneer in the field of Sikolohiyang Pilipino, said that we focus too much on the “utang” part and not so much on the philosophically rich “loob” aspect of it. Putting this value back in a kapwa mindset means seeing “utang na loob” not as “debt,” but as “solidarity.” We care for those who cared for us, because we value our kapwa. Reciprocity comes from within (bukal sa loob) and is intentional (kusang-loob). The question to be asked is, “What do we owe each other, as human beings?”
Why do I have social debts just by existing? Why do I owe my entire life to people who have harmed me, just because we happen to be related by blood, or because I was desperately in need of help at one point?
But let us go deeper. Enriquez focused on challenging the tendency of people to interpret utang na loob as kaliwaan (transaction). But look at how the phrase is said. For the longest time, I thought it was “utang ng loob,” in the sense that my interiority owed something to other people. Why do I have social debts just by existing? Why do I owe my entire life to people who have harmed me, just because we happen to be related by blood, or because I was desperately in need of help at one point?
But to say “utang na loob” implies that one’s interiority—their essence, will, being—is borrowed. We do not own anything in the world, not even our own identity. We are still ourselves, but we are just waves on an ocean. The wave might seem unique, but it cannot claim to own its own “wave-ness,” nor can it even claim that it is, by itself, the ocean. The wave is part of the ocean. In the same way, we are part of kapwa.
But to say “utang na loob” implies that one’s interiority—their essence, will, being—is borrowed
So, from whom do we borrow ourselves? From our childhood experiences, community relationships, and cultural immersion. Describing an individual self is also describing a context of their belongingness—their name and biology (from family), affiliations (from community), mindsets and perspectives (from culture). The question is not just what we owe each other, as though other people must do something for us first, but more importantly, “Who am I really, without other people?” In this, we can find guidance from the perspective of French philosopher Simone Weil, who pointed out that for any of us to have rights, we must first have obligations.
Here is a good way to assess whether someone’s use of “utang na loob” is healthy or toxic: For anyone to have the “right” to claim it, do they also follow through with their obligations to their kapwa? As we say, madaling maging tao, pero mahirap magpakatao
To put it colloquially: Kung mayroong karapatan, mayroon ding pananagutan. In fact, whenever protestors remind us of their “human rights,” what they are actually doing is reminding us of our obligation to them, as human beings helping human beings. This is the principle of “saluhan,” where we answer for each other. If I see you struggling, I will not force you to pay for lunch—“Sagot na kita.” If I know that you made an honest mistake and are about to be punished needlessly for it, do not worry—“Sasaluhin kita.” Ideally we must all be part of the net that catches, but in reality we know that usually only one person catches it all. Whether they are the responsible sibling or the workplace martyr, we call them the “tagasalo.” But this dynamic deserves its own deeper discussion, maybe sometime in the future. In any case, the opposite of “saluhan” is clearly “laglagan,” which happens when we betray the trust of others.
Here is a good way to assess whether someone’s use of “utang na loob” is healthy or toxic: For anyone to have the “right” to claim it, do they also follow through with their obligations to their kapwa? As we say, madaling maging tao, pero mahirap magpakatao.