by Alecks P. Pabico

REMEMBER, the Election Automation Law of 1997? This piece of legislation said that as early as the May 1998 polls, ballot-counting machines would be used to tally votes by precincts and to consolidate the municipal, provincial and national results. By 2001, voters would no longer be writing down the names of candidates on their ballots, but would have simply shaded the corresponding spaces beside the preprinted names.

No such thing happened of course. Just this May, mayhem ensued anew at the midterm polls, with voters first frantically trying to locate their precincts, then frantically trying to remember all the names of their preferred candidates. After which, they had to wait for days—even weeks—before finding out who finally won, although many candidates refused to concede without causing a bit more confusion.

The attendant violence included, the May 2001 elections turned out to be yet another example of the pitiful, pathetic political fare this nation has known since becoming Asia's first acknowledged venture in Western-style democracy. To be sure, Filipinos have only belatedly rediscovered their democratic traditions with the ouster of the dictator Marcos in 1986. Yet undoubtedly, such exercise in direct democracy could use more modern touches, given the sweeping technological innovations of the digital age.

Indeed, the exponential growth of information and communication technologies (ICTs) in recent years has brought about wide-ranging opportunities, as well as challenges, for their application in almost every sphere of human life. Enduring social institutions are by no means an exception, the political system—democracy in particular—being among the primary objects (along with commerce and education) of this technological preoccupation.

Just take the Internet, which in all its decentralized, anarchic glory is largely seen as an ally of democracy, promoting democratic values. It has become such a political tool that what used to be pretty fancy cyberterms as technodemocracy, e-government, e-democracy and digital democracy are now assuming meaning in real life.

Even here in the Philippines, the use of technology to improve, enhance and enable democratic governance has not been without examples. Government offices, for instance, now have Internet presence far beyond the initial smattering of puffed up electronic brochures of five years ago. Civil society is also wired and its social networks are reaping the benefits of an online democratic thinking and decision-making process among its stakeholders.

One only has to look back to the events in January to a more extreme demonstration of digital democracy—the unceremonious downfall of a popularly elected president hounded by charges of corruption and ineptitude precipitated in no small way by such digital tools as mobile phones, websites and email groups. Which only makes the de mano polls of May all the more anachronistic, if not downright annoying.

THE RECENT elections did see some effective ICT applications, particularly during the campaign period. In 1998, no more than a handful of candidates employed the Internet as a campaign medium. Of these few sites—those of presidential and vice presidential bets—the primary motivation was even suspect, that of setting up a token online presence.

This year, contenders in the senatorial race were more conscious of the constituencies to be courted in cyberspace. The results included more graphically engaging campaign sites, thanks to more powerful Web authoring tools like Macromedia Dreamweaver and Flash animation.

But more than their cool designs, many of the websites were comprehensive enough to include not only the obligatory credentials and news releases about the candidates but also links to volunteer recruitment and coordination, online fundraising, and fora for online debate. This last, though, did not generate that intended liberal involvement among netizens, who went more for the messageboards of independent election-related sites for discussions about the pros and cons of electing certain candidates. Also still outside the capacity of online campaigns are electronic town hall meetings and webcasts in vogue in the United States and parts of Europe.

There was, however, a pronounced improvement in the ability to continuously update and manage the sites. And if former Senator Raul Roco, now education secretary, was the only techno-savvy candidate during the 1998 presidential race, this time that distinction was shared by three People Power Coalition bets. Former Makati Rep. Joker Arroyo, economist Solita 'Mareng Winnie' Monsod and former Senator Wigberto Tañada all conducted Internet-mediated campaigns, employing the Web for distributing campaign materials both real and virtual in the form of downloadable stickers, posters and flyers in pdf format, animated buttons and banners.

For the first time, too, local-level candidates were not outdone by their national counterparts as those seeking congressional, gubernatorial and mayoral positions took to the virtual campaign trail as well. On example was Steve Hamada, who maintained his own modest website in his bid for a seat in the Baguio City Council.

But most candidates—with few exceptions like reelectionist Senator Ramon Magsaysay Jr.—seem to have been lulled by their respective professionally designed campaign websites, ignoring in the process the more powerful though relatively cheap medium of email. This may or may not help explain why, as of this writing, even the likes of Monsod and Tañada are not yet in the Senate's "magic 13."

Online campaign experts at VoxPolitics consider email as "the killer application," the main Internet vote-winner that could spell the difference in tight electoral contests. As the US and British experiences show, email that targets lists or databases of email addresses is a more cost-effective means of campaigning, helping publish and publicize information and encouraging people to attend a meeting or to exercise their right to vote.