Wazzup Pilipinas!?
Pasig Mayor Vico Sotto has never been one to mince words. Known for his refreshing candor and clean break from traditional politics, the young mayor recently set social media ablaze when he accused broadcast veterans-turned-digital anchors Julius Babao and Korina Sanchez-Roxas of pocketing millions to air glossy, feel-good features on the controversial Discaya couple—Sarah and Curlee—who are now household names for their rags-to-riches narrative.
The charge cut deep, because it wasn’t just about money. It was about ethics.
Both Julius and Korina came from ABS-CBN, a newsroom with a proud tradition of high editorial standards. Today, they anchor respected programs—Babao fronts TV5’s Frontline Pilipinas while Sanchez hosts Agenda on the Bilyonaryo News Channel. But the storm did not brew around their mainstream assignments. Instead, it erupted from their lifestyle-oriented side shows: Rated Korina and Julius Babao UNPLUGGED.
And in those shows, the line between journalism and public relations blurred in a way that has shaken public trust.
A Rags-to-Riches Story Wrapped in Glitter
The Discayas’ story, as told by Korina and Julius, had all the elements of a modern-day fairytale: a couple rising from humble beginnings, building an empire, now flaunting wealth through fleets of luxury cars, cavernous halls filled with feng shui trinkets, and displays of almost Imeldific excess.
But conspicuously absent were hard questions.
No mention of the couple’s favored status as Duterte-era contractors.
No probing of government-flagged substandard projects.
No acknowledgment that their firm, St. Timothy’s Construction, was part of the consortium bagging the P18-billion contract for the 2025 automated elections.
No inquiry into the glaring ethical question: How did borrowing a father-in-law’s license become the foundation for a construction empire?
Instead, audiences were served a sanitized narrative, dripping with PR sheen, at a moment when Sarah Discaya was clearly gearing up for a mayoral run against Sotto in Pasig.
The Missing 90%
“Preparation is 90% of any interview.” Every journalism student learns this. Julius and Korina—seasoned anchors with decades of experience—know this better than anyone. Which is why their omission stings.
Julius, in particular, disappoints. Known for his sharp, probing interviews, his UNPLUGGED special on the Discayas offered no critical context, no follow-through on glaring red flags. He later defended himself by saying there were “no controversies” about the couple at the time—a statement that collapses under even the slightest scrutiny. Their names had been circulating for years in reports of problematic government contracts. To say otherwise is not just ignorance; it is negligence.
Korina, with her trademark flair, leaned heavily into the magazine-format gloss of Rated Korina. But gloss without disclosure is precisely the problem. Critics note that her team has repeatedly failed to label advertorials for what they are—paid content—dressing them up instead as “features.” That absence of transparency is not a minor slip. It is a fundamental breach of public trust.
Sotto’s Strike and the Risk of Cyberlibel
Vico Sotto’s accusations—that millions changed hands for these puff pieces—came with no presented proof. And in the absence of documentation, such claims risk tipping into cyberlibel territory. Both Korina and Julius have flatly denied receiving P10 million or any payout.
Yet Sotto didn’t need to cite numbers to make his point. The ethical failures were already glaring, even without the alleged financial trail. By focusing on the money, Sotto left himself exposed—when the real issue lies in something much larger: journalism’s integrity.
When Journalism Becomes PR
This controversy could not have exploded at a more sensitive time. The Senate is in the middle of probing corruption in flood control projects. President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. himself flagged the Discayas as among the country’s most powerful contractors with a checkered record. The stakes are national, not just local.
And yet, two of the country’s most seasoned anchors used their platforms to paint the couple as benevolent, hardworking Christians showered with cosmic rewards for their generosity. It was an image-building exercise, not journalism.
For ordinary viewers, this is not just about two anchors. It is about what happens when respected journalists trade in their credibility for access, entertainment value, or perhaps profit.
Why This Matters
Journalism is not show business. The duty of the press is not to dazzle but to scrutinize. Lifestyle features may sell, but the standards of truth, fairness, and transparency must never be sacrificed on the altar of ratings or revenue.
What makes this episode so corrosive is that both Julius Babao and Korina Sanchez have built careers on credibility. Their reputations are not just personal—they are the scaffolding on which audiences decide whom to trust. When those reputations are leveraged for advertorial masquerades, it undermines the entire institution of journalism.
As Mayor Vico Sotto fights for the trust of his constituents against political challengers who wield wealth and media power, this controversy reminds us of the fragile but sacred line between journalism and PR. Once blurred, it is difficult—if not impossible—to redraw.
The public deserves better.
And journalists, above all, should know better.
Cover image from Rolling Stones Philippines
Ross is known as the Pambansang Blogger ng Pilipinas - An Information and Communication Technology (ICT) Professional by profession and a Social Media Evangelist by heart.
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