The Philippines is not facing an impeachment crisis. It is facing something quieter and more corrosive: a political culture that has learned to live with impeachment as background noise.

There is no active impeachment case against Ferdinand Marcos Jr. At the same time, the impeachment of Sara Duterte remains suspended in procedural limbo, awaiting a ruling on a motion before the Supreme Court of the Philippines that has already outlasted its original political moment. What the country has instead is impeachment as atmosphere, omnipresent, unresolved, and increasingly normalized.

Impeachment was meant to be a constitutional last resort, invoked sparingly and concluded decisively. In today’s Philippines, it has become a threatened language. It is floated in speeches, whispered through leaks, and deployed as a pressure tool to discipline allies, warn rivals, or test political loyalty. Filing is optional. Resolution is negotiable. The mere possibility is often enough to extract concessions.

This shift is hollowing out the state from within.

When impeachment becomes routine rhetoric rather than a solemn institutional act, accountability loses its gravity. Genuine abuses are easier to dismiss as politics. Citizens stop expecting closure. Institutions learn that delay is safer than decision, and ambiguity becomes a survival strategy. A weapon used too often eventually stops frightening anyone, but it continues to wound the system that keeps reaching for it.

Inside the executive branch, governance adapts accordingly. Leaders govern defensively, not strategically. Risk is avoided rather than managed. Reforms that require political capital are postponed, softened, or broken into pilot programs that can be abandoned quietly if the political winds shift. The machinery of government continues to move, but only within safe and reversible limits. Stability is preserved, but ambition steadily drains away.

The unresolved impeachment of the vice president has also pulled the Supreme Court into a political undertow it cannot fully escape. Any ruling on the pending motion will be read through a political lens. Granting it will be framed as protection. Denying it will be framed as permission. Even delay becomes a statement. The danger is not judicial bias, but the slow erosion of perceived neutrality. Courts are meant to close political chapters. Leaving them half open weakens their authority.

Markets are watching this more closely than politicians care to admit. Investors are not waiting for chaos. They are waiting for clarity. Parallel impeachment narratives signal elite fragmentation, weak coalition discipline, and uncertainty about continuity. Capital does not flee dramatically, but it hesitates. Long-term commitments are delayed. Infrastructure financing becomes cautious. In a region where political signaling matters as much as policy, hesitation alone is costly.

Meanwhile, governance slips into permanent campaign mode. Every policy choice is weighed for survivability rather than impact. Alliances become provisional. Public statements are lawyered, hedged, and tested for deniability. Bureaucracies grow cautious. Technocrats retreat. Political operators thrive. When a government never exits campaign mode, it loses the capacity to govern with confidence.

For citizens, the effect is democratic fatigue. Threats that go nowhere. Cases that do not conclude. Processes that never seem to end. Over time, people stop believing that accountability is real or evenly applied. Politics becomes theater. Participation becomes transactional. This is how democratic erosion happens without tanks or decrees, through repetition, delay, and exhaustion.

The greatest risk is not that impeachment will succeed. It is that it will never end.

A democracy suspended between threat and resolution cannot plan long-term, reform boldly, or inspire trust. Institutions wear down. Leaders govern timidly. Markets wait. Citizens disengage. The country drifts, stable on paper but hesitant in practice.

The Philippines does not need louder impeachment threats. It needs institutional closure. Either impeachment is pursued decisively, with evidence, numbers, and consequences, or it is set aside clearly and formally. What the country cannot afford is permanent ambiguity disguised as stability.

Impeachment was meant to protect democracy. Used this way, it is quietly exhausting it.