Life might be expensive, yet joy remains within reach. In an era of soaring prices, while many might suggest that happiness is unattainable, Filipinos demonstrate their unique ability to find it nonetheless.
For Filipinos, joy isn’t a commodity to be purchased; it’s something actively created. When electricity is unavailable, Filipinos bring out a guitar. When onions reached an astounding P700 a kilogram, they responded with memes, transforming the situation into a national inside joke.
Even when floods rise knee-deep, they can be found floating on a Styrofoam box, a Bluetooth speaker in one hand and a beer in the other.
Across the country, Filipinos are embracing accessible joys – simple things that cost little but hold immense meaning. This includes rewatching “Four Sisters and a Wedding” because the line “bakit parang kasalanan ko?” never loses its appeal, or eagerly anticipating a teleserye cliffhanger.
It’s the thrill of a “budol finds” haul, a P1 load to send “ingat ka” to a crush, or a P20 online game providing just enough excitement to brighten the day.
This phenomenon represents joy in recession: simple, affordable happiness that fits into their daily lives, their budgets and their hearts. Filipinos spend over nine hours a day online, more than any other country globally. However, this isn’t mindless scrolling; it’s a means of connecting and coping. Phrases like “G na G,” “Sana all,” and “Kapit lang” serve as digital mantras, expressed with humor but deeply rooted in grit.
Behavioral psychologist Dr. Ana Reyes says: “What one is seeing isn’t escapism, it’s resilience. Filipinos use low-cost entertainment, whether it’s a livestream, a TikTok, or a casual game, to anchor themselves. It’s both catharsis and connection.”
This phenomenon is not new. Globally, pop culture has historically flourished during times of crisis rather than prosperity. Hollywood emerged during the Great Depression, anime rose from postwar Japan, and K-pop surged during Asia’s economic downturn. In the Philippines, when tragedy strikes, culture erupts – loud, proud, hilarious, and heartfelt. Hardship doesn’t diminish joy; it sharpens it, teaching them to cherish what little they possess.
Simple pleasures, from livestream karaoke to quick games played between shifts, are never mere distractions. They are declarations. They convey, “I may be struggling, but I haven’t stopped living,” and “Deserve ko ‘to.” When considering the rise of low-cost entertainment, particularly forms that offer a thrill or amusement for just a peso or two, perhaps the question isn’t “Why?” but rather, “How could they not?”
In a world that constantly encourages toughening up, Filipinos choose to remain soft, and rightfully so. Amid crises, they continue to seek reasons to laugh and play. This is the uniquely Pinoy superpower: raw, real, and ridiculously resilient.
For a people who have sung through brownouts, danced through floods and cracked jokes in the midst of heartbreak, chasing temporary, affordable joys is not a luxury. It’s a lifeline. And when the world declares, “You can’t afford happiness,” they respond with “Kaya pa naman,” “Meron pa rin,” “Meron at meron,” and “Padayon.”
