Presented by: Leizel P. Lagrada, MD, MPH, PhD
Mental Health in Focus: Research, Policy, and Practice Learning Session
College of Public Health, University of the Philippines Manila
August 11, 2026
Dr. Ernesto Gregorio Jr., University of the Philippines Manila College of Public Health. Training and Consultative Workshop on School-based Mental Health Literacy for Children and Adolescents in the Philippines.
Let me start with a number. This country spends forty-one pesos and fifty centavos per Filipino per year on mental health, that translates to three pesos and fifty centavos a month, 2.3 percent of the health budget. Six mental health workers per hundred thousand people, three-tenths of one of them a psychiatrist. Thirty outpatient mental health facilities for a hundred and fifteen million people.
I begin with those numbers because that is what we are working with. Whatever we recommend today has to be delivered by six workers for every hundred thousand Filipinos, on three and a half pesos a month.
My task as reactor, and as Coordinator of the Program for Health Equity, is not to critique these studies. My job is to ask two questions. First—what do these three papers add up to, that none of them says on its own? And second—who falls through the gaps between them, and why?
Read separately, we have a life-course epidemiology paper, a school consultation, and an occupational health study. Read together, they are one person. Let me give her a name. I will call her Sisa.
You know why. Rizal gave us that woman in 1887, and we have been reading her as a tragedy ever since. But look at what he actually wrote. Sisa does not lose her mind because she is weak. She loses it because her husband takes her earnings, because a sacristan accuses her child, because the guardia civil march her through her own town—because every institution with the power to intervene was built to do something else. Rizal did not write a case of madness. He wrote a case of structural violence, and he wrote it a hundred and thirty-nine years ago.
So here is our Sisa. She is born into a household where adversity is more common than we admit—Ms. Barrass's study. She enters a public school that is trying, with a guidance office stretched past breaking— Dr. Gregorio's consultative workshop. She finishes college and joins one of the 1.9 million Filipinos in the IT-BPM sector, working on site, on a night shift, earning under twenty-four thousand pesos a month—Dr. Estrada's study.
Notice what happened in that sentence. Sisa graduated from college and still landed in the poor-to-low-income bracket. Education did not buy her out of the gradient. That single fact, from Dr. Estrada's own demographic table, is the most devastating finding on this panel.
Three papers, one trajectory, and at no point along it does the system reliably meet her. So here is my reaction. Mental health in the Philippines is not a series of separate episodes. It is one trajectory, one long path. And at every point on that path, somebody could step in: a counselor, a health center, a fair shift, a humane living wage. But whether anyone actually does depend on how poor she is and where she lives. That gap is the inequity. I will read it through three inequities: of exposure, of protection, and of recovery.
Barrass's study is about what happens to a child before she is ten. It counts adverse childhood experiences (ACEs). Being hit. Being neglected. Seeing your mother beaten. Each one, on its own, raises the risk of depression. A child with four of them is five times more likely to be depressed at eighteen than a child with none. Five times. Four times more likely to have an anxiety disorder. And this is not only a finding from Brazil. It holds true in Cebu.
Then comes the finding that complicates my job: limited evidence that socioeconomic position confounded or modified these associations. If poverty does not modify the effect, why am I talking about equity?
First. Let me make that concrete with illustrative numbers. Suppose two in every hundred better-off children would become depressed anyway, and five in every hundred poor children. Now give both groups four adverse experiences, and multiply the risk five times. The better-off group goes from two to ten. The poor group goes from five to twenty-five. The multiplier is identical. The number of damaged children is not.
Second. The finding is not that poverty is irrelevant. It is that ACEs are not merely a proxy for poverty. If adverse experiences were only poverty called by another name, then lifting a family out of poverty would make them disappear. This study says they would not. A father does not stop hitting a child because the household income went up. So, we have to fund violence prevention and child protection directly, with their own budget, and not as a side benefit of a poverty alleviation program.
Third. Both cohorts measured depression at eighteen. Neither the Brazil nor the Cebu survey asked what happened next. Neither asked who got treatment. And that is where money starts to matter. Take two eighteen-year-olds, equally depressed. One family can pay a psychiatrist. The other is on a waiting list at the nearest government facility. A year later, they are not in the same condition. So, the inequality may not be in who gets sick. It is in who gets better—and that is the question these surveys were not built to answer.
Dr. Gregorio's consultative workshop tells us what awaited Sisa at twelve. Schools rated their own programs a 3 out of 5. Underline what that number is: a self-rating, by the people running the programs, who cared enough to attend a national workshop. A ceiling estimate, not an average. The schools that were not represented in that room are not doing better.
And look at the barriers named: no trained personnel, no funding, stigma, weak monitoring, no standardized assessment tools. Note the last two. We are not only failing to deliver the service; we are failing to measure it. A missing tool is not a technical inconvenience; it is an equity failure because it guarantees the worst-served schools stay statistically invisible.
Now let me give the government real credit. Republic Act 12080, the Basic Education Mental Health and Well-Being Promotion Act, signed in December 2024, mandates a Care Center in every public school. In July 2026 the Civil Service Commission approved the qualification standards, and the Department of Budget and Management may now create ten thousand School Counselor Associate positions for this school year.
Ten thousand positions. Against more than twenty-seven million learners. One counselor for every two thousand seven hundred children. The international benchmark is one for every two hundred and fifty.
Not to diminish the law; RA 12080 is the most significant school mental health legislation we have ever passed. I say it because how those positions are distributed will decide whether the law reduces inequity or deepens it. Spread them equally across divisions and we distribute a scarce resource evenly across profoundly unequal need; the textbook mechanism by which an equitable-sounding policy produces an inequitable result. And note the financing clause: initial implementation is charged against DepEd's current appropriations. Without its own line item, a Care Center competes with a classroom.
Which brings us to Dr. Estrada's study, to Sisa at thirty-two. Of the 1,050 respondents so far: most are women. Most are between thirty and forty-five. Most finished college. Most earn under twenty-four thousand pesos a month. More than half work fully on site, and night shift is the most common schedule.
Hold two of those together: a college diploma, and a night shift at under twenty-four thousand pesos a month. This is precisely the group we would have expected education to protect, and it did not. Note, too, what the study sets out to measure alongside mental health status: mental health literacy, the capacity to recognize what is happening to you and the capacity to act on it. That is the same capacity Dr. Gregorio's schools are struggling to build, twenty years earlier in the same life. The school study and the workplace study are measuring one thing at two ends of one life.
Now the recovery question. On paper she is covered: PhilHealth's outpatient mental health package provides nine thousand pesos a year, and sixteen thousand for specialized care. Real progress, and let’s welcome it. But specialized care requires Level 2 and 3 hospitals with specialist staff, and these are concentrated where the money already is, in urban centers. The country has thirty outpatient mental health facilities in total.
A PhilHealth benefit you cannot physically reach is not a benefit. It is a promise. Universal coverage that is geographically rationed is a gradient wearing the language of universality.
And here is the part I will not soften. Sisa works in an industry that closed 2025 with forty billion US dollars in export revenue and 1.9 million workers. She earns under twenty-four thousand pesos a month, against an estimated family living wage of roughly twenty-nine thousand. And the intervention most commonly offered to her is a wellness webinar.
Here are five recommendations; each has an owner and a time horizon. None of them asks for a new budget line. They ask for money already legislated to be spent by a rule that accounts for need.
Owner: DOH Health Promotion Bureau, DepEd and DOLE, with UP College of Public Health as technical partner.
Horizon: 12 months.
One minimum dataset across school, workplace and community; every report disaggregated by income quintile, region, sex, school type and employment arrangement. No equity claim survives without disaggregation.
Owner: DepEd and DBM.
Horizon: This school year, SY 2026–2027.
Weigh the positions by division poverty incidence, learner-to-counselor ratio, and violence and dropout indicators, not equal shares. Then publish the formula, so it can be argued with. A gamed formula that is public is contestable; a private one is not. This costs nothing, and it can be decided this year.
Owner: DOH, DepEd, LGUs and PhilHealth.
Horizon: 18 months.
A counselor without a referral pathway is a bottleneck with a job title. Link every Care Center by protocol to a specific rural health unit and a named Level 2 hospital, make the PhilHealth mental health package claimable at that first contact, and report utilization by province.
Owner: DOLE with DOH, under Joint Administrative Order 2023-0001.
Horizon: Next audit cycle.
Let us stop asking whether a company has a policy on file, and start asking what generates the exposure: shift rotation, target intensity, forced overtime, worker-rated quality of work life. Designate IT-BPM a priority setting, with IBPAP as co-financier rather than respondent. An industry with forty billion dollars in exports can pay to watch the health of its own workforce.
Owner: The health sector, with NWPC, DOLE and Congress.
Horizon: Now, and repeatedly.
Inadequate has a number. Sisa earns under twenty-four thousand pesos a month, against an estimated family living wage of roughly twenty-nine thousand. I expect to be told this is outside our lane. It is not. Health professionals have always named the things that make people sick, even when fixing them belongs to someone else. We name tobacco. We name unsafe roads. We name dirty air. We do not pass those laws, but we say plainly what the harm is. Low pay is no different. We are not the wage board. We are the people whose job it is to say what is making Sisa, and the Filipino people, sick.
Let me answer the question I started with. Who falls through the gaps?
The child who is poor, and who carries more adverse experiences than anyone counts. The student whose distress no one notices, because her school has no one to notice it. The graduate who works full time and still cannot cover what her family needs. The worker whose job is itself the risk.
That is not four people. That is one person, at four points in her life. That is Sisa.
Treat these as three findings and we will produce three programs: a parenting module, a school seminar, and an employee assistance hotline. Each is defensible. Together they will not change Sisa's trajectory, because none of them touches the mechanism that produced her.
Treat them as one trajectory and the mandate becomes different.
Protect the child from adversity.
Staff the school so adversity is caught.
Regulate the workplace so work is not the next exposure.
And fund the pathway between them, so a PhilHealth benefit on paper becomes care in a room.
The three government agencies–DOH, DOLE and CSC–issued JAO 2023-0001 in 2023. The school law was signed in 2024, the workplace order in 2020. The money exists, but in fragments. What is missing is the decision to allocate it by need rather than by convenience.
We have been asking Filipinos to be strong enough to survive our systems. Rizal already showed us how that ends. Let us build systems strong enough that they do not have to be. And let us start with the ten thousand counselors—by sending them where Sisa is.
Examining mental health beyond the individual and toward the social conditions that shape well-being.
PHE also contributed as a reactor in “Mental Health in Focus: Research, Policy, and Practice,” a learning session bringing together researchers and public health experts to examine current evidence and emerging challenges in mental health.