THE JOKES arrived faster than software updates. Within hours, social media had already turned the country’s latest “laptop issue” into a national comedy festival. There were memes of flying gadgets, edited movie posters, and sarcastic comments asking whether the poor device needed witness protection.
Pinoys can turn almost anything into comedy. Brownouts, politics, traffic, even national stress somehow become meme material. Still, many quietly wondered: in this digital age, how can a public leader not know how to use a laptop?
The discussion looked shallow at first glance, almost petty. A laptop? Really? Of all the national problems worth discussing?
But symbols matter. Sometimes ordinary objects reveal deeper anxieties people carry about competence, readiness, and public trust. A laptop today is no longer a luxury accessory displayed beside expensive coffee in a café pretending to be productive. It has become part of daily survival.
Teachers use laptop to prepare lessons and submit reports. Students use it for research, online classes, and assignments. Nurses update records through it. Small business owners process sales through it. Farmers now check weather forecasts and market prices online. Overseas Filipino workers video-call families through screens that become temporary dining tables, classrooms, and confessionals all at once.
In many ways, the laptop quietly became one of the defining objects of modern adulthood.
That is why many found the issue difficult to ignore. It was not really about whether one owns an expensive laptop or not. In fact, in some schools, students casually carry devices more expensive than their teachers’ monthly salary.
Years ago, while teaching in a Jesuit school, I noticed that almost every student had access to a laptop, desktop, or tablet at home. Research papers were submitted online. Presentations involved multimedia. Collaboration happened digitally.
Meanwhile, here in a state university in the province, reality feels very different. Many students still share one laptop among siblings. Some borrow gadgets from cousins, neighbors, or classmates. Others rely on computer labs, libraries, or free campus internet because buying a personal device remains difficult. Yet despite the economic gap, most students still learn how to navigate technology because they understand it is already tied to survival.
That contrast matters. Access to technology remains unequal, but the expectation to function in a digital world no longer disappears simply because life is difficult. During the pandemic, millions of teachers who barely used online platforms before suddenly learned Zoom, Google Classroom, Teams, Canva, and LMS systems almost overnight. Many learned while caring for children, checking modules, encoding grades, and praying the internet signal would not collapse during class. Some teachers attended webinars while seated beside sacks of rice in sari-sari stores because that was where the signal was strongest. Nobody called them digital natives. They simply adapted because the work demanded it.
That is why the laptop issue became symbolic. People increasingly connect technological literacy with preparedness and competence. A 2023 OECD report noted that digital literacy is now deeply tied to employability, participation, and civic engagement in modern societies (Gottschalk & Weise, 2023). Even the Department of Education’s MATATAG agenda emphasizes digital integration and adaptive learning environments because education itself is evolving.
Today, a public official who cannot navigate technology sounds almost as strange as a pilot admitting unfamiliarity with cockpit instruments. One does not need to become a programmer or hacker. Nobody expects elected officials to repair motherboards or explain coding languages. But people do expect leaders to understand the tools shaping governance, communication, research, and decision-making.
Of course, the reactions online were also partly unfair. Not everyone develops confidence with technology at the same pace. Many older people still struggle with passwords, email attachments, or accidentally replying “Good morning po” to entire office group chats at midnight [wink]. There are professors brilliant in philosophy but terrified of Excel formulas. There are lawyers who still ask younger staff to convert PDFs. There are school administrators who panic when the projector refuses to cooperate five minutes before accreditation visits. (To be continued)/PN
