I n the wake of calls by some sectors for a shutdown of the remaining Philippine offshore gaming operators (Pogo), real estate brokerage services company Leechiu Property Consultants, Inc. had warned that the country may lose some P200 billion annually from that action.
The amount represents losses from, among others, office and residential leases, utility bills, employment benefits, income taxes and regulatory revenues. And that some 347,000 Filipino and foreign workers may lose their jobs.
Leechiu said those developments would add another dimension to the economic challenges the country is going through at present.
For the advocates of the ban, which includes Finance Secretary Benjamin Diokno, however, the social costs from Pogo operations outweigh their economic benefits.
Besides, there has been an upsurge in Pogo-related crimes, such as kidnapping for ransom of foreign nationals and human trafficking.
To aggravate matters, according to the Justice department, some 40,000 Chinese nationals in the country are reportedly overstaying or otherwise engaged in illegal Pogo operations. Their arrest and deportation would be problematic.
The concerns raised by Leechiu sound similar to those aired in 1991 when the period of lease of the military bases of the United States in the Philippines, Clark Air Force Base and Subic Naval Base, was nearing its end.
It was up to the Senate then to decide whether to renew the lease or put an end to more than 90 years of American military presence in the country.
Then President Cory Aquino pushed for the renewal of the lease. Her financial advisers and many business executives expressed apprehension about the adverse effects of the bases closure, namely, loss of jobs by hundreds of Filipinos employed in the bases, economic slowdown in the cities of Angeles and Olongapo, discouragement of investments of US companies in the Philippines and forfeiture of millions of pesos in revenues from external bases’ operations.
Unfazed by those dire predictions, the Senate voted to end direct US military presence in the country.
Although initially the transition to full Philippine control over the bases had some hiccups, the “doomsday” scenario painted by the pro-bases advocates did not materialize.
Thirty years since the US pulled out their stakes, those areas are now bustling economic zones that gainfully employ thousands of Filipinos, host big-ticket foreign investments and contribute billions of pesos to the national coffers.
The feared economic degradation of the cities that once benefited from the bases did not happen. They’re a lot better off now, financial- and social-wise, compared to 1991.
By and large, the people tasked by the government with the management of those areas had done (and continue to do) a good job in making them viable economic zones.
In case of a complete cessation of Pogo activities, the buildings they presently occupy and would vacate may be likened to the permanent structures the US left behind in their former military bases.
No doubt, the total exit of Pogos would give rise to a glut in office or business premises, but that does not mean those spaces would remain empty forever.
With the economy slowly getting back on its feet, business activities are expected to pick up and bring with them a correlative demand for office or work premises.
It is reasonable to assume that the owners of those building already have a Plan B on what measures to take in the event their Pogo tenants pack up and transfer their operations elsewhere.
The business savvy of those building owners in meeting the challenges of a possible total ban on Pogo operations should not be underestimated by doomsayers. They are not babes in the business world.
The sky will not fall if the Pogos are kicked out. Their departure from the Philippines would just be a minor bump in the economy that can be skillfully managed. INQFor comments, please send your email to “rpalabrica@inquirer.com.ph.”