“We are given a valuable lesson: when it comes to bribery, it’s not the size of the gift that matters, it’s the amount of plausible deniability you can maintain”
It’s a tale as old as time: a group of prestigious lawyers, who, after years of studying ethics, codes, and the law, suddenly discover that maybe—just maybe—bribing their way to positions of power isn’t in line with the integrity they once swore to uphold.
Comes now Nilo T. Divina, the legal world’s answer to Willy Wonka, and to thr honorable bench and mmbers of the bar, submits his motion.
Willy Wonka, for a refresher, is innovative, flamboyant, stubborn, arrogant, and authoritarian, and loves to be the center of attention by putting on outrageous attire.
He cannot stand questions and considers them as criticisms or threat and always brags the products he creates to his guests.
Divina’s appearance is different. Instead of golden tickets, he’s handing out all-expenses-paid trips to Balesin Island Club and Bali, Indonesia, because what says “Vote for Me!” better than a tropical getaway?
For those who missed the memo, let’s catch up. Nilo Divina, an esteemed member of the Integrated Bar of the Philippines, found himself in hot water after generously sponsoring the travels of IBP-Central Luzon officers.
These officers, who clearly needed a break from the grueling life of legal practice, graciously accepted the trips – because who could say no to sun, sand, and perhaps a little bit of career advancement?
But alas, the Supreme Court was not as enamored with Divina’s version of lawyerly philanthropy.
Apparently, there’s a little-known provision in the Code of Professional Responsibility and Accountability that frowns upon lawyers using extravagant gifts to sway the judgment of their peers.
Yes, believe it or not, the Court pointed out that when you shower people with luxurious trips and gift checks, they might feel a teeny bit obliged to return the favor.
Who knew? Certainly not Divina, who probably thought he was just promoting camaraderie among colleagues – or perhaps practicing for a future career in tourism.
Now, let’s give Divina the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he’s just a misunderstood man of unparalleled generosity.
After all, what’s a few hundred thousand pesos spent on fellow lawyers when it’s all in the spirit of friendship?
Besides, isn’t it practical for a lawyer to ensure his colleagues are well-rested and culturally enriched before making important decisions?
Logic dictates that a trip to Bali could do wonders for one’s legal acumen, right?
And let’s not forget the politics of it all.
In the cutthroat world of IBP elections, it’s crucial to stand out.
Some might argue that speeches, debates, and a solid track record should be enough, but where’s the fun in that?
No, Divina knew in a crowded field, you’ve got to think outside the courtroom. And really, what’s more outside the courtroom than an island resort?
But the Supreme Court, those party poopers, had to ruin the fun.
They slapped Divina with a fine of P100,000 – a small price to pay, really, considering the memories made in Bali.
They even went so far as to say that these “exorbitant” gifts reflect poorly on the recipients’ ability to maintain propriety in their professional dealings.
As if accepting an all-expenses-paid trip from someone with a vested interest in your decisions could ever cloud your judgment.
So, what’s a lawyer to do?
Should we abandon all hope of using lavish gifts to secure our place in legal history?
Not necessarily. Perhaps the lesson here is subtlety. Maybe instead of handing out trips to Bali, the next aspiring IBP Governor should consider a nice fruit basket.
Or a thoughtfully curated cheese platter. Who could object to a little brie and some grapes?
And for those lawyers feeling left out, fret not. There’s always the option of organizing a “continuing legal education” retreat in some far-flung paradise.
Just be sure to make it sound really boring on the invitation – something like “Advanced Torts and Contractual Obligations in the Tropics.”
That should keep the Supreme Court off your back.
In the end, Atty. Divina has given us all a valuable lesson: when it comes to bribery, it’s not the size of the gift that matters, it’s the amount of plausible deniability you can maintain.
So, to all the aspiring legal eagles out there, remember: a little less flash, a little more finesse, and who knows?
Maybe next time, you too could be vacationing in Bali without a care in the world – or a Supreme Court fine hanging over your head.
