What has Vico Sotto proven in 6 years as Pasig mayor?

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Vico Sotto is what one would call a “nepo baby”. He grew up in privilege. He is the son of A-list entertainers Coney Reyes and Vic Sotto, both household names. A friend told this reporter she used to see Sotto as a kid, biking around one of Pasig City’s posh Valle Verde subdivisions.

His early schooling was at Brent International School — its campus used to be in Pasig, before it moved to Laguna. He got his political science degree from the Ateneo de Manila University, followed by an MA in public management from the Ateneo School of Government.

When he first ran and won a seat as city councilor in 2016, all the establishment could do was keep the budget of his office to a bare minimum — the mayor then, Bobby Eusebio, saw him as a thorn in the side. But how do you get a Sotto — who belongs to a clan that has produced two senators and a phalanx of celebrities — out of your way?

That Sotto won as mayor on his first try in 2019, and supplanted a dynasty that held city hall for 27 years could at least partly be credited to his background. But in the succeeding six years, including the second term he won in 2022, Vico Sotto proved himself to be his own brand.

Sure, Sotto in his first term was buoyed by his halo of celebrity, Pao Santiago, a city councilor running for reelection under Sotto’s Giting ng Pasig ticket, told Rappler. “But his second term was won on his programs that the people could see. May napatunayan na (He had already proven something).”

Fortunately for Pasig, the rich kid turned out to be a man for the people. Public office, for him, is a means, not an end.

“I’ve always wanted to work in, or for government, or with government since I was a kid,” Sotto told Rappler in an interview.

“I’ve always wanted to be part of a movement that brings change, positive change. I’ve always wanted to help do my part to clean up government, to fight for democratic institutions. If holding a position can help, then I will try to get that position.”

Now, he is defending that position with dogged diligence. Since the local campaign period began on March 28, Sotto, with the rest of Giting, has been making a thorough sweep of Pasig’s neighborhoods, campaigning for a third and law-limited final term as mayor.

Why does Sotto campaign with such urgency? He sees Pasig as under threat from politicians seeking a revert to the former system of corrupt patronage from which the city has only just started recovering.

“May mga tao na handang gawin ang lahat para lang sa pera at kapangyarihan (There are people willing to do everything just for money and power),” he said in a Facebook post on April 10, as the social welfare department launched a probe into a propaganda video aimed at discrediting him.

Idealism and its cost

Sotto’s sorties are a bare-bones affair. Just a bunch of monobloc chairs huddled in an empty space — usually a clearing in Pasig’s labyrinth of alleys — with a portable loudspeaker and mic for a sound system. Residents providing an awning is an occasional bonus.

In contrast, his main opponent Sarah Discaya’s sorties are a full variety show: a stage, an LED screen, overhead lights, a full soundboard, a street party band, and dancers. Four people in total are running for Pasig mayor, but it is Discaya, a construction magnate, who has Sotto and Giting on their toes.

There is no debate over Pasig’s progress under Sotto. His stringent clean-up of the city’s procurement system has led to a doubling of the city’s budget, from P10 billion in 2019 to P22.4 billion in 2025. Savings have largely been channeled into social services and a long-overdue overhaul of its city hall complex.

But Sotto couldn’t leave the talking to his track record. Beyond her glitzy sorties, Discaya has been benefitting from charity and disinformation drives that portray Sotto’s efforts as falling short of the people’s needs. This is hardly fair, as Sotto’s city hall has broadly expanded regular assistance to senior citizens, solo parents, and students. Residents are now entitled to free treatment at the city’s two public hospitals and at its new hemodialysis center. The number of scholars has more than doubled, from 11,000 in 2019 to 25,000 in 2025. Local government service fees have been lowered, if not waived.

Sotto would rather keep repeating himself enumerating these at every sortie than fight the dirty tactics eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. He concedes that his insistence on doing everything the right way “has its disadvantages,” leaving openings that his opponents exploit, such as his “anti-epal” ban on political branding — they go around telling people Sotto is inutile.

“Some would say he’s very idealistic. I think he is,” Carmel Abao, head of the Ateneo’s political science department, told Rappler in an interview. Sotto attended two of her classes in college, and they have since kept in touch. He occasionally seeks her advice on political matters.

“Frankly, we equate idealism as something negative when, in fact, all it means, really, is just sticking to your principles, sticking to your values.”

Abao said she once asked Sotto whether he should loosen his guard over the city’s procurements, “to balance the technical with the political,” because the consequent slowdown in the process has caused some delays in delivery, giving ammunition to his opponents.

“Pero very single-minded din siya eh,” said Abao. Sotto explained to her that corruption in procurements was exactly what plagued Pasig for a generation, and any loose ends could precipitate a backslide.

“It’s very clear what his non-negotiables are.”

More confident

As a student, Sotto didn’t call attention to himself, Abao said. He didn’t put on airs. He wore the same shirts and jeans in rotation. He always showed up and was never a problem. He wasn’t talkative.

“But he was an intense listener,” she said. “He wasn’t like your ‘A’ student, but he really struck me as an intelligent person.”

He was also always politically and socially aware, the professor could tell from their many conversations.

“I think he was raised well, and you can see that he was raised to respect people.”

Abao only realized that this Vico “is a Sotto” when he ran for city councilor in 2016. Three years later, when he told her he was running for mayor, she was skeptical.

“I was like, ‘Really? Going against Eusebio straight on?’” Abao said. “But I’ll never forget his answer.”

Sotto replied that he had nothing to lose. If he failed, then he’d look for a job — teach political science at the Ateneo, perhaps.

“He really wants to teach, always wanted to teach.”

Sotto’s only concern, Abao said, was that he didn’t want to spend “too much.” She gave him her blessing.

“I said, ‘Cool, do it.’”

Six years on, Abao says Sotto now strikes her as decidedly more “confident” — more sure of what he knows, more accepting of what he doesn’t, holding more firmly to his convictions.

“Sobra siyang nag–mature.” (He has matured a lot.)

Proof of this was when Sotto refused to take sides in the 2022 national elections. Abao said he strongly disagreed with her when she urged him to support a presidential candidate.

“I think Vico is very protective of Pasig. In the sense that, whatever his views are of national politics, he will not voice that out because he will always think of what the implications are for Pasig politics.”

Experience taught Sotto to be cautious of national politics. In 2020, as Metro Manila was going into lockdown because of the pandemic, Sotto inadvertently offended the Duterte administration when he suggested a revision to a yet-unsigned policy on tricycles. Conflict with the higher power, he learned, could spell trouble for a city whose mayor rocks the boat.

But he is quick to rebut those who threaten his work in Pasig. He has called out disinformation from Discaya and her husband, and exposed online trolling targeting his administration. He publicly named Discaya when the Comelec stopped short of saying whose conflict of interest led to a partner pulling out of a joint venture to provide this election’s automation technology.

“‘Pag ako tinira on a personal level, ‘di naman ako sumasagot eh. Kung personal, ha? ‘Pag may nagtanong, siyempre, ililinaw ko. Pero hindi ako aggressive sa ganoon. Parang, sige, sabihin ‘nyo kung anong gusto ‘nyo sabihin tungkol sa akin. Pero ‘pag tungkol na doon sa mga pagbabago, or ‘pag tungkol na sa trabaho, governance, at alam kong hindi totoo ‘yung sinasabi, ibang usapan ‘yan,” Sotto told Rappler.

(When I’m attacked on a personal level, I don’t respond. If it’s personal, okay? When someone has a question, then of course I clear it up. But I’m not aggressive about that. Like, sure, say what you want to say about me. But when it comes to the reforms, or when it’s about the job, the governance, and I know what’s being said is false, then that’s a different matter.)

Proof of concept

A source of controversy for Sotto is the P9.6-billion city hall complex about to replace the old, literally crumbling one at the heart of downtown Pasig. The local court has denied a petition to halt construction, but Sotto’s critics continue to pound the issue, claiming corruption.

The project’s details, including costs, are available online, Sotto said. Consultants recommended a completely new edifice because the existing one was too infirm, and retrofitting wouldn’t solve it. 

So while they’re at it, Sotto said, why not maximize the space by building a multipurpose complex that would spur economic activity and raise property values in the downtown area?

“The structure itself should be good for a hundred years,” Sotto said.

It’s symbolic of what Sotto is trying to do with Pasig: the old system was corrupt to the core, and only an overhaul will cut it.

Sotto’s focus on fixing the system may trigger impatience among some constituents and give his opponents something to criticize, but he says he is looking out for Pasigueños’ long-term welfare.

One of Sotto’s first actions as mayor was to regularize as many city hall employees as possible — it was only fair, and it would insulate them from politics, he said. Now, the majority of Pasig’s local government workers are on full-time contracts, with benefits and security of tenure.

Naturally, it inspired professionalism among the city’s bureaucrats. Sotto hopes it would lead to resilience if, in case, a politician ever attempts to enlist them in corrupt practice.

“Vico’s proof of concept is that he changed the norms of city hall. I think he has really shaped to a very great extent the behavior of the city hall employees,” Abao said. “Puwede mo talaga mabago ‘yung gobyerno (You can actually transform the government).”

Santiago, the reelectionist city councilor, is also the drummer of the popular rock band Hale. He said Sotto has inspired other young professionals to work for or with the local government “because of how unconventional his politics is.”

What’s next, if Sotto wins a third term, is to perpetuate reform beyond city hall, said Abao. “His task now is really to also shape the behavior of the rest of the Pasig residents.”

The election will test this. The more reliable local surveys put Sotto in a significant lead, but even he acknowledges the challenge presented by Discaya and her inexhaustible resources.

But perhaps another thing going against Sotto is his lack of any evident major flaw — he seems too good to be true. Here, Santiago trusts Pasigueños to be the judge.

“Mayor Vico’s traction is because of his authenticity.”

“I understand [people’s doubts] because corruption is a nationwide problem,” Sotto said. “So when someone comes along who’s really honest, sadly, they’re the ones who end up seeming odd or maybe sometimes unbelievable.”

“So I get that. And that’s part of our mission here in Pasig — to prove that it’s possible.” – Rappler.com