LIBONA, Bukidnon (MindaNews / 21 January) — I participated in a multi-sectoral gathering held at the University of Santo Tomas on January 14–16, 2026. This Church-led event, facilitated by Bukal ng Tipan, convened representatives from civil society, people’s organizations, academia, labor, and business to address the nation’s ecological, economic, and governance challenges. Guided by the Cebuano-Visayan concept of Hayuma—meaning “mending the broken together”— these diverse groups committed themselves to build a sustainable.
The Tolerated Ecological Evils
At their core, tolerated evils are normalized injustices that persist because they serve entrenched interests. In his 2025 apostolic exhortation Dilexi Te (I have Loved You)—a document focused on love for the poor — Pope Leo XIV deepens the theological discussion on these evils. He links them directly to the “globalization of indifference,” arguing that these injustices are maintained through the structural normalization of the suffering of the marginalized. These evils worsen through a passive acceptance of unjust status quos.
In an environmental context, these systemic failures manifest as a passive acceptance of widespread degradation—a phenomenon I call “tolerated ecological evils.” Sadly, the destruction of ecosystems has been treated as an inevitable byproduct of progress, failing to challenge the underlying systems of extraction and consumption that cause them. Consequently, ecological sins that disproportionately affect both the poor and the Earth are normalized, rendered invisible by their ubiquity.
To truly grasp our current reality, we must confront the intensifying crisis of environmental degradation. We must identify the intersecting tolerated ecological evils at our core: those systemic failures that normalize destruction and embed a dangerous apathy into our collective response to the global climate emergency.
The Alarming Rate of Deforestation
The environmental crisis in the Philippines is starkly illustrated by the alarming rate of deforestation, a critical issue demanding immediate attention. According to the 2022 Philippine Forestry Statistics (PFS), the total national forest cover was estimated at a mere 7.22 million hectares, accounting for only 24.07% of the country’s total land mass.[1] This decline in national forest cover highlights a systemic vulnerability to the impacts of the climate crisis.
Within the broader national context, the situation in Mindanao presents a complex picture. Per Philippine Forestry Statistics (PFS) data, Mindanao had an estimated forested area of 2,338,723 hectares in 2020. This is equivalent to 32.36% forest cover of the total land area. Encouragingly, this figure represented an increase of 5.29% in forest cover between 2010 and 2020, suggesting that some restoration efforts have yielded positive results in specific areas.[2]
Zooming in on the provincial level reveals the specific challenges faced by local communities. In Bukidnon, only 213,066 hectares (23.5%) of natural forests remain within its 906,686-hectare land area. Almost all of this remaining forest is found exclusively in the uplands—areas characterized by slopes greater than 18% and elevations exceeding 100 meters above sea level.[3] This concentration in less accessible areas indicates significant human pressure on more accessible lowland forests, illustrating how development and agricultural expansion drive forest loss in the region.
Unsustainable Land Use
The second critical driver of environmental degradation is unsustainable land use, particularly the tension between necessary food production and the preservation of vital ecosystems. Based on 2025 reports from Statista and the International Fund for Agricultural Development (IFAD), roughly one-third (32% to 33%) of the Philippines’ total land area is actively utilized for agricultural activities. While agriculture is a cornerstone of the national economy, its current trajectory often comes at the expense of ecological stability.
In Mindanao, the landscape is undergoing rapid transformation. There is an ongoing and aggressive land conversion process driven by the expansion of large-scale plantations for pineapple, banana, coffee, coconut, corn, mango, rice, and sugar cane.[4] This shift from diverse forest ecosystems to vast agricultural expanses fundamentally alters the region’s biodiversity and hydrological health.
The provincial data for Bukidnon offers a stark warning of the consequences of this expansion. It is estimated that almost two-thirds of the Bukidnon uplands are now denuded. Furthermore, approximately 92% (380,332.75 hectares) of the province’s Alienable and Disposable Land has already been utilized for agricultural production.[5] Accordingly, the sheer scale of this utilization leaves little room for natural regeneration.
Specific crop data from the Environmental Science for Social Change (ESSC)[6] confirms that agricultural expansion is the primary driver of land cover change in the province:
- Corn: 114,912 hectares (12.67%)
- Sugarcane: 102,625 hectares (11.32%)
- Rice: 42,194 hectares (4.65%)
- Pineapple: 24,890 hectares (2.75%)
- Rubber: 22,651 hectares (2.50%)
The proliferation of large-scale agribusinesses carries a heavy human cost. These ventures have impoverished many small-scale farmers and displaced countless Indigenous Peoples’ communities. These marginalized groups are often forced to move further into the margins “where the last patches of the primary forest remained,” unintentionally increasing pressure on what little natural habitat is left.
Furthermore, the methods employed by large-scale monocropping plantations are ecologically destructive. The heavy reliance on toxic synthetic agro-chemicals—including fertilizers, pesticides, and herbicides—poisons the soil ecosystem and pollutes essential water bodies. This chemical runoff ensures that the tolerated evil of industrial agriculture results in long-term damage to the very land required to sustain future generations.
Freshwater Crisis
The third dimension of the Philippine ecological crisis is the rapid deterioration of freshwater systems, a reality that threatens both public health and national security. The scale of this contamination is vast: of the 421 principal rivers in the Philippines, 180 are considered heavily polluted, and 50 have reached the tragic state of being biologically dead.[7] This systematic degradation of waterways serves as a stark example of a tolerated evil, where the slow death of vital ecosystems is accepted as a byproduct of industrial and urban mismanagement.
The contamination of surface and groundwater has created a significant barrier to accessing safe drinking water. Reports indicate that 35% of rivers and surface water areas that are otherwise suitable for drinking must now undergo full chemical treatment to become potable.[8] The crisis extends beneath the surface as well. According to the Water Environment Partnership in Asia (WEPA), up to 58% of sampled groundwater is contaminated with coliform and requires treatment before human consumption.[9] This widespread pollution forces a reliance on expensive, energy-intensive filtration systems, further marginalizing those who cannot afford clean water.
Beyond local health concerns, the scarcity of freshwater is increasingly recognized as a geopolitical threat. In its 2012 assessment, the U.S. Office of the Director of National Intelligence suggested that freshwater scarcity could become a — if not the — major source of international conflict over the next century.[10] This assessment highlights that the tolerated pollution of today is the catalyst for the resource wars of tomorrow.
This looming instability was echoed by the late Pope Francis in his landmark encyclical Laudato Si’. He warned of an “acute water shortage [that] may occur within a few decades,” noting that the resulting “control of water by large multinational businesses may become a major source of conflict in this century.”[11] As we navigate the year 2026, these predictions move closer to reality. The transition of water from a common good to a corporate commodity—compounded by the siltation and pollution of Philippine rivers—represents a profound ecological injustice that demands more than passive indifference.
Destructive Mining
The fourth aspect of tolerated ecological evils in the Philippines is the persistence of destructive mining. Large-scale extractive projects are frequently sanctioned under the guise of national economic gain, even when such operations result in the displacement of indigenous communities and the irreparable destruction of critical biodiversity habitats.
The proliferation of mining is evident in both small and large-scale sectors. Currently, as shown in the Mindanao Energy Plan 2014-2030, there are 47 small-scale coal mining permits nationwide; notably, 35 of these are located in Mindanao, with a heavy concentration of 31 in Surigao del Sur and four in the Zamboanga Peninsula. It should be pointed out that among the fossil fuels, “coal is the worst offender, releasing 24 kilograms of CO2 per billion joules of heat produced.”[12]
When shifting focus to large-scale operations, the impact on marginalized populations becomes even more pronounced. In its State of Indigenous Peoples Address 2022 Report, the Legal Rights and Natural Resources Center indicates that 49% of all mining projects in the Philippines are in direct conflict with registered ancestral domains. In Mindanao specifically, the fifteen largest mining operations cover approximately 131,775 hectares of land, much of which is situated on or near Lumad (indigenous) communities.[13]
As we navigate 2026, a complex dilemma has emerged: the global transition to clean energy is driving a renewed demand for extractive activities. The Mines and Geosciences Bureau (MGB) has noted that the global shift toward electric vehicles (EVs) significantly increases the demand for nickel, copper, and silver—essential components for EV batteries.[14] This puts the Philippines in a paradoxical position where “climate-smart mining” is touted as a solution for the future.
The Department of Environment and Natural Resources (DENR) emphasizes that rare earth elements, along with critical minerals like nickel, cobalt, and lithium, are the “building blocks” of renewable technologies such as wind turbines and solar photovoltaics.[15] Experts suggest that as the world scales initiatives for low-carbon technologies, mineral-producing countries like the Philippines will find their natural resources in unprecedented demand. This creates a moral and ecological tension: the global effort to reduce greenhouse gas emissions may inadvertently accelerate the destruction of local ecosystems and the displacement of indigenous peoples in the search for “clean energy” minerals. This “green” justification risks becoming the latest iteration of a tolerated evil, where local environmental sacrifice is accepted for a global technological benefit.
Ecology, Economy, and Governance
Ecology, economy, and governance are profoundly interconnected; indeed, both economy and governance may be understood as fundamentally ecological. Governance is intrinsically linked to stewardship, particularly the ethical responsibility of ecological preservation.
Rooted in the shared etymology of eco (from the Greek oikos, meaning “household”), the operations of ecology and economy are inextricably linked. Ernst Haeckel, who coined the term “ecology” in 1866, defined it as “the body of knowledge concerning the economy of nature—the investigation of the total relations of the animal both to its inorganic and its organic environment.”[16]
The participants of the Church-led Hayuma Convention composed of representatives from civil society, people’s organizations, academia, labor, and business at the University of Santo Tomas on January 14-16, 2026. Photo courtesy of CEED – Center for Energy, Ecology and Development.
From the ecological economics perspective, the fundamental flaw in prevailing assumptions is the tendency to view the economic system as the whole, while regarding the global ecosystem as merely a constituent part. This prevailing perspective presumes that nature’s capacity for production is inexhaustible, failing to acknowledge the inherent finiteness of natural ecosystems. Consequently, the Earth’s severely exploited resources have been denied the necessary restorative intervals required to recover from systemic depletion.
To reverse this trajectory, we must keenly recognize that the Earth’s ecosystem is finite, non-growing, and materially closed. This paradigm shifts our perspective to see the global ecosystem as the encompassing whole, rather than a subordinate element of the economic system. In other words, the economy should be “conceived as a subsystem of the earth ecosystem that is sustained by a metabolic flow or ‘throughput’ from and back to the larger system.”[17] From this vantage point, economic growth must be constrained by the carrying capacity of the larger biosphere.
Embracing Integral Ecology with Hope
In Laudato Si’, integral ecology is a holistic vision[18] that weaves together environmental, human, economic, social, and cultural ecologies, as well as the ecologies of everyday life. It is grounded in the ethical principles of the common good, the protection of human rights, the demand for intergenerational justice, and a profound respect for the intrinsic value of nature. As we look at the challenges, this approach is the only one capable of addressing the root causes of our complex crises. As Pope Francis famously articulated in Laudato Si’: “We are faced not with two separate crises, one environmental and the other social, but rather with one complex crisis which is both social and environmental.”[19]
A vital implication of this framework is that our ecological ministry must evolve beyond a simple “greening movement.” Traditional conservationism, preservationism, and environmentalism—while necessary—are insufficient if they ignore the liberative human element. Our liberative response must simultaneously address dehumanizing poverty and all forms of social crisis. To ignore the plight of the poor while attempting to save the forest is a failure of vision, for as Leonardo Boff argues, these social injustices are themselves “ecological aggressions against the most complex being of creation, the human being.”[20]
Conversely, our social action ministries must recognize the natural environment as a primary stakeholder in human flourishing. The health of our social fabric is inextricably tied to the health of our ecosystems. As Boff further notes, “the decline in the quality of [the] surroundings produces social tensions, violence, disease, malnutrition and even death.”[21] Only by integrating the cry of the Earth with the cry of the poor can we mount a response that is truly commensurate with the complex ecological crises of our time.
Tolerating ecological evils reflects despair. True hope is not passive expectation but a transformative force that sparks action. Seeing the sustainable future we long for inherently means rejecting the status quo. This perspective drives us to challenge reality and trust a better world’s potential eclipses current limitations. [22]
The “normativity of the future” becomes our urgent moral compass. That envisioned future demands a re-evaluation of the present, exposing the normalized injustices and tolerated ecological degradation of our world. It galvanizes us to act. By fixing our gaze on the ultimate horizon of God’s kingdom, we find the profound courage to rise above the present reality and actively build a more just, liberated, and hopeful future for all.
[1] Cited in Climate Change Commission, “Forests and Innovation: New Solution for a Better World” (March 21, 2024).
[2] Cited in Ivy Marie Mangadlao, “International Day of Forest: Mindanao’s Strides in Restoring Critical Ecosystems,” Climate Tracker Asia (March 21, 2024).
[3] From the explanatory note of the 2018 Land Cover: Province of Bukidnon. See Environmental Science for Social Change (ESSC), “Forest Change Drivers and Impacts: Policy Briefs for Bukidnon Province” (2019).
[4] See Department of Agriculture, Mindanao Inclusive Agriculture Development Project (MIADP), October 2021, pp. 16-18.
[5] See Andres Ignacio, “The Bukidnon We do not Know.”
[6] Environmental Science for Social Change (ESSC), “Forest Change Drivers and Impacts: Policy Briefs for Bukidnon Province” (2019).
[7] Cited in Greenpeace Philippines, “Greenpeace to DENR: Implement pollution disclosure to save our rivers” (January 16, 2013).
[8] See Michael A. Bengwayan, “Many Philippine Rivers Are Dying,” Eurasia Review (April 29, 2019).
[9] Water Environment Partnership in Asia (WEPA), “Philippine Water Supply and Sanitation Policy Overview” (WEPA, no date).
[10] Cf. Office of the Director of National Intelligence (USA), Global Water Security, Intelligence Community Assessment 2012-08 (February 2, 2012).
[11] Francis, Laudato Si’: Care for Our Common Home (Pasay City: Paulines Publishing House, 2015), no. 31.
[12] Ian G. Barbour, Ethics in an Age of Technology, The Gifford Lectures, Vol. 2 (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1993), 120.
[13] Ibon Resources, “Fifteen Biggest Mining Operations in Mindanao” (October 26, 2015).
[14] Danessa Rivera, “Philippines aims to become mineral processing hub,” The Philippine Star, June 13, 2023.
[15] Iya Gozum, “Mining industry’s cooperation crucial in clean energy transition, says DENR chief,” Rappler, August 30, 2023.
[16] Quoted in Robert Clinton Stauffer, “Haeckel, Darwin, and Ecology,” Quarterly Review of Biology 32 (1957): 138-44, on p. 141.
[17] Herman Daly and Joshua Farley, Ecological Economics: Principles and Applications (London: Island Press, 2004), 431.
[18] See Francis, Laudato Si’: Care for Our Common Home (Pasay City: Paulines Publishing House, 2015), nos. 138–55.
[19] Francis, Laudato Si’, no. 139.
[20] Leonardo Boff, “Social Ecology: Poverty and Misery,” in David Hallman, ed., Ecotheology: Voices from South and North (New York: Orbis Books, 1994): 235-247, on p. 237.
[21] Leonardo Boff, Cry of the Earth, Cry of the Poor (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1997), 107.
[22] See Leonardo Boff, Ecology and Liberation: A New Paradigm, trans. John Cumming (New York: Orbis Books, 1995), 59.
