Baguio shouldn’t build skyscrapers
The jolting earthquake on July 27, 2022 is causing residents to revisit concerns about survivability in the nation’s summer capital in the event of another ‘killer quake.’
Specifically, it is reviving the question should Baguio City have high-rise buildings—meaning those that have more than six floors?
This is my opinion: NO.
This is not about simply getting around the Building Code. There is no engineering limitation involved in the question. It is totally possible to construct in Baguio a building as tall as any in Manila, or any other place in the world. The laws of gravity are the same anywhere on Earth. The physical forces that could bring down any structure on a flat surface at sea level are the same as on any flat surface 5,000 feet above it—which is Baguio’s elevation.
Yet, the truth is Baguio is only “mountainous” in postcards now. New technology can prep any construction site in Baguio to look as if it’s in the lowlands. Heavy earthmoving equipment are no respecters of topography these days. Over the last few years I’ve seen entire mountains and hillsides disappear, bulldozed flat as a pancake in just a matter of days. So the only limiting factor remaining is cost. Otherwise, if you can cobble up enough money, you can replicate the Petronas Twin Towers in the nation’s summer capital if you want. Modern engineers will not back away from the challenge.
So we can certainly build high-rises in Baguio. The question is, should we?
Baguio is a “floating city” perched on top of a mountain. In this regard it’s no different from a floating ship in the middle of the ocean. All its stores (that’s a nautical term for “provisions”) are trucked up the mountains, either through unreliable Kennon Road or bottleneck-prone Marcos Highway. Like a marooned vessel, it doesn’t grow its own rice, fruits and vegetables, nor raise its own livestock, or grow its own fish—it produces nothing to eat.
If the main arteries leading up to Baguio are closed down, like they were briefly on July 27, this city could literally starve in no time. Fuel tankers cannot refill the city’s petroleum reserves, estimated to last no more than a week without replenishment. In July 1990, when Baguio was isolated for more than four months, traffic ground to a halt because gasoline was held in reserve to power generators instead of cars circling the city with no place to go.
Back in 1990 Baguio experienced what an economic siege felt like. A growing population competing for shrinking provisions—it was a nightmare. For the first time, planners became aware of the correlation between population and quality of living.
But as often said, God hasn’t stopped making people but He certainly had stopped making LAND. What is happening in Baguio today is the same experience that started happening in Japan at the turn of the last century. Hampered by a small land area, Japan used technology to increase living space nonetheless by expanding vertically.
The math is simple. If all you have is a 200-square meter lot, it can accommodate a modest bungalow with ample living space for, say, a family of 5 or 6. But if you build ten floors above that, you have increased its resident capacity to 50 or 60.
Roam around Baguio today and you will lose count of how many buildings have broken through the 6-floor ceiling (set by local law). The newer “pygmy” condominiums today are at least 12-floors high. Oftentimes, it’s not too obvious because 5 or 6 of those floors are below their street level entrance, with the rest of the other 5 or 6 jutting above.
No matter the configuration though, considering that the minimum “footprint” for a mixed-use commercial building is 800 square meters, the resident capacity figures are staggering. Each floor can hold at least six residential units, because the average condo unit is 120 square meters. That means each floor hosts between 36 to 40 residents—the 10-story building about 400 residents. Get 3 or 4 of these buildings together and you have a small barangay!
So coaxing the direction of Baguio’s development towards high-rise construction is not an issue of geohazard mitigation. It is an issue of failing to mind the impact of raising the resident population WITHOUT the accompanying enhancement of the capacity to feed, clothe, transport, enable communication, etc.
How often have you heard complaints about Baguio’s growing traffic EVEN on weekdays? Of course “even on weekdays” it will be—those motorists gridlocking Baguio’s narrow streets ARE residents. They’re not here on weekend vacays.
The city has just obtained its Amended City Charter (the term “New City Charter” is wrong, that’s just like saying “new birth certificate”). I don’t know if the City Government has sat down and gone to work fine-tuning its Implementing Rules and Regulations but I hope when they do, they would keep in mind a thought well worth contemplating: Development does NOT always have to be about increasing capacity. Sometimes it’s also about recognizing and respecting LIMITS.
It is within the powers of the City Government to impose any cap on constructions, or details of construction within its jurisdiction. But in the past, the City has often surrendered this prerogative to the bullying of NATIONAL agencies—like the Housing Land Use and Regulatory Board (HLURB) that approves housing “development” proposals, often under specifications that are in conflict with local building criteria. The DENR, through its Mines and Geo Sciences division, can point out “no-build” zones in its “Geo Hazard Map” of Baguio and its suburbs. Ironically, most if not all, high-rose constructions in the city right now are right smack in the middle of these “no-build” zones.
The final guard rail, supposedly, is the City’s own engineering Office which grants the ultimate paper needed: a Building Permit. The assumption is that technical reviewers of that office should have considered the entire gamut of laws and ordinances in certifying if a building is totally compliant and deserves to get a go-ahead.
But on days like today, as I drive along Marcos Highway near the entrance to Suello Village, and I see another monstrous new construction shooting skyward, I wonder if we have “building officials” or just plain BULDING (cross-eyed) officials.*
About the Author
The author is a writer and lawyer based in Baguio City, Philippines. Former editor of the Gold Ore and Baguio City Digest, professor of journalism, political science and law at Baguio Colleges Foundation (BCF). He is a photographer and video documentarist. He has a YouTube channel called “Parables and Reason”
About Images: Some of the images used in the articles are from the posts in Atty. Joel Rodriguez Dizon’s Facebook account, and/or Facebook groups and pages he manages or/and member of.