There was a time when being updated with the latest news was almost a civic duty in many Filipino households. Growing up, staying informed was simply part of daily life. I remember watching NewsWatch with Harry Gasser and Loren Legarda, then later tuning in to Noli de Castro’s Magandang Gabi Bayan with the family. The television was our window to the world, and whatever appeared on the screen became the country’s collective conversation.
For many Filipinos, consuming the news was as routine as having breakfast.
But unlike today, we did not get to choose what updates reached us. We watched whatever was fed to us.
Every year, television networks would run familiar stories that felt almost scripted, with fill-in-the-blank set of characters. ABS-CBN would report on oil price hikes or rollbacks, to trigger trisikad drivers to impose fare hikes or bakeries to shrink their pan de sal sizes.
“Mahal naman gud ang gasolina.”
During Undas or Holy Week, cameras would be stationed at the Balintawak bus terminals, interviewing weary passengers about long queues and delayed trips. As Christmas approached, reporters would flock to Divisoria to ask shoppers about rising prices of Noche Buena ingredients. Before All Saints’ Day, television networks would dust off their annual ghost stories, featuring alleged hauntings, cemetery apparitions, and supernatural encounters recounted by wide-eyed witnesses.
The reporters changed, but the news script rarely did.
As I grew older, however, I realized that the news cycle had become overwhelming. There was simply too much information and misinformation, and most of it was bad news.
Every headline seemed designed to provoke outrage, fear, or despair, so friends, classmates or co-workers will have their watercooler topics to discuss.
The Maguindanao massacre. The botched hostage-taking incident at Rizal Park. The endless flood control controversies. Alleged “maleta” and “tanim bala” scandals. Corruption cases. Political infighting. Economic worries.
One story after another.
At some point, I began asking myself: What was all this information doing to me?
Was it making me a better citizen? Perhaps, if I take action.
Was it making me happier, more hopeful, or more productive? Not really.
Instead, constant exposure to the news often left me anxious about the future, cynical about government institutions, and increasingly distrustful of public officials. The daily barrage of negative stories slowly cultivated a sense of helplessness.
Social media made things even worse.
Platforms that once connected people became arenas for endless political debates. Self-appointed armchair analyts and self-proclaimed professors constantly offered analyses and lectures about every issue under the sun. Some insights were thoughtful and informative but many were not.
Did I learn something from these discussions? Probably, but do I wish to unlearn them? Probably, yes too. That’s because I also lost countless hours scrolling through comment sections, watching political videos, and reading heated arguments among strangers. Time that could have been spent doing household chores, exploring a hiking trail, reading a good book, or simply resting.
Time, after all, is finite.
It also did not help that I come from Davao. More than once, people I had just met automatically assumed that I was a DDS simply because of where I was born. Nuance disappeared and conversations became exercises in labeling rather than understanding. It was exhausting.
Eventually, I decided to impose a personal news gag on myself. Not a complete blackout, but a deliberate reduction.
I stopped checking headlines multiple times a day. I avoided political commentary videos. I unfollowed pages that constantly triggered outrage. Instead of dedicating precious hours to doomscrolling, I chose to spend that slice of my twenty-four hours elsewhere.
I started revisiting old issues of National Geographic, and pressed on to continue reading the Bible from start to finish (currently at the Book of Samuel). On pleasant days, I would take walks around the neighborhood, paying attention to trees, birds, and changing seasons rather than social media notifications. Sometimes, I would send a message to a friend I had not spoken to in years.
Ironically, these small acts made me feel more connected to life than endless news consumption ever did.
Of course, there are trade-offs.
When attending fellowships, family gatherings, or meeting friends unexpectedly, conversations inevitably drift toward current events.
“Hoy, grabe yung nangyari sa Ateneo student noh?” someone might ask a clueless Elmer who would quip in a self-deprecating tone.
“Ewan ko. Ako yung laging huling nakakabalita,” trying to shift topic into something more familiar.
There are always impromptu Maritess sessions discussing the latest scandal featured on Raffy Tulfo YouTube channel, or political drama.
More often than not, I find myself only half attentive and half dismissive. I listen politely but without the urgency I once had. There is a strange freedom in admitting, “I haven’t really been following the news.”
Some may interpret this as indifference. I see it differently.
I still care about the country. I still pay attention when issues directly affect my family, livelihood, or community. But I no longer feel obligated to absorb every controversy, every outrage, and every viral opinion.
Years ago, when I was twenty-five and had just arrived in Hong Kong, my friend Karen Obispo and I would endlessly marvel at things Hong Kong did well and compare them with the Philippines. Efficient transport systems. Orderly public services. Streamlined transactions with banks and government offices.
Our conversations often ended the same way: frustration.
Eventually, we grew tired of repeating the same observations. We knew what was lacking back home, and talking about it repeatedly changed nothing. Sadly, years later, many of those frustrations remain.
But perhaps growing older also means accepting certain realities while refusing to allow them to consume your entire emotional being. Journalists and news companies will continue to produce headlines. Politicians will continue to quarrel. Scandals will erupt. Social media will manufacture outrage. News cycles will move relentlessly from one crisis to another, possibly to earn more clicks and advertising revenue.
The question is not whether these things matter. The question is how much of our limited time and emotional energy we are willing to surrender to them. For me, the answer increasingly is: not as much as before.
Life is short. There are trails to walk, books to read, friendships to rekindle, and ordinary moments to appreciate.
And sometimes, choosing silence over noise is self-preservation, not ignorance. Hence, here are my five takeaways from the whole experience.
Table of Contents
Being informed should not come at the expense of well-being
Staying updated is important, but consuming an endless stream of negative news can take a heavy emotional toll. There is value in setting boundaries and recognizing when information no longer serves us but instead fuels anxiety, anger, or hopelessness.
News consumption requires intentionality
Traditional media once dictated what people watched and discussed. Today, algorithms do the same. Being intentional about what we consume—and how much we consume—helps prevent information overload and allows us to focus on issues that genuinely matter.
Not every debate deserves our time
Social media encourages constant engagement, but not every controversy requires participation. Choosing not to argue online or react to every headline is not necessarily apathy; sometimes it is simply a wise use of limited time and energy.
Personal experiences can shape political fatigue
Repeated disappointments, stereotypes, and years of hearing the same unresolved issues can lead people to disengage. Understanding this fatigue may foster empathy rather than quick judgments about those who appear indifferent to current events.
Meaningful living often happens away from headlines
Walks, hobbies, friendships, and simple daily experiences can provide a sense of connection and fulfillment that constant news consumption rarely offers. Balancing awareness with real-life experiences can lead to a healthier and more grounded perspective.
Staying informed matters, but protecting peace matters too. Sometimes, stepping back from headlines helps us live better.