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As the 2025 midterm elections approach, the same ritual is once again unfolding: survey results dominate the headlines, familiar names climb the rankings, and voters start whispering about “sure winners.” For many Filipinos, seeing a candidate in the top twelve of a senatorial survey already feels like a sign from the heavens. But let’s be clear—surveys are not gospel truth, and definitely not destiny.

In a phone interview with Professor Rye Ranjit of OCTA Research, he puts it plainly, “Surveys are not predictions. They are estimations. They are not certain pieces.” The latest OCTA survey from April shows names we’ve all heard before—celebrities, re-electionists, and the usual political families—occupying the top spots. If this tells us anything, it’s not that we’ve already chosen our leaders. It’s that we’re stuck in the same cycle.

Here’s the thing: surveys reflect what people say at a given moment. They’re like a photo, not a movie. They capture mood, familiarity, and sometimes even gut feel—but not always real support or informed decisions. Yet, many treat them as if they’re ballots already cast.

And, this is where the danger starts. Some candidates weaponize surveys to create the illusion of inevitability. In past barangay campaigns, supposed “sample ballots” were handed out, claiming to be based on surveys. They weren’t. But, people believed them anyway. 

“You shouldn’t follow surveys as a guide for who to vote [for],” Ranjit stresses, “Surveys are not mind conditioning. Voters don’t generally use surveys as a sample ballot.” But let’s be honest—many of us do. And politicians count on it.

Instead of igniting deeper political thinking, election survey results often confirm what we already suspect: name recall still trumps track record. If someone’s face is on TV every day or their last name rings a bell, they rise in the rankings. Never mind if their performance in office was lackluster, or if they barely even show up to legislative work. What matters, still, is the name.

Just look at the list. Tulfo. Cayetano. Marcos allies. These aren’t new names. The irony cuts deeper when you realize that the administration’s slate is called “Alyansa para sa Bagong Pilipinas”—yet it’s stacked with the same surnames that have dominated Philippine politics for decades. It’s a ‘new Philippines’ wrapped in old packaging, offering change but recycling the very faces we claim to be tired of. 

Even those tagged as part of the “opposition” — like Koko Pimentel, Bam Aquino, or Chel Diokno — tend to come from old political clans, too. So while voters are told they have choices, most of the options feel like different versions of the same story.

What’s worse is that some voters give up before even trying, “Siya na sure win, doon na lang ako.” That kind of thinking makes surveys dangerous, not because they’re inherently wrong, but because we stop thinking critically once we see who’s ahead. We start playing it safe, as if choosing someone outside the top 12 is a waste of a vote. But that’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. 

We vote for who we think will win, and they win because we voted that way. This is exactly what happens when surveys are mistaken for a popularity contest. And sadly, popularity is often built not on public service, but on visibility, gimmicks, and media mileage. 

With disinformation and fake infographics spreading like wildfire online, it’s even easier for candidates to manipulate public perception. Remember those fake surveys that circulated in 2019, showing underdog candidates leading the pack? All lies, but they gained traction anyway.

So how should we, as voters, treat surveys? With a healthy dose of skepticism. Always ask: Who paid for it? When was it done? Who was asked? How was it framed? A survey done in Metro Manila won’t reflect the views of Mindanao voters. One conducted months before campaign season doesn’t predict who’ll be strongest at the finish line.

Surveys don’t account for integrity. They don’t tell us who shows up in Senate hearings, who’s dodging corruption charges, or who’s actually working for marginalized sectors. They just show us who people recognize—and that’s not the same as who deserves our vote.

Filipinos need to take back their agency. The ballot is not for betting on the most popular name. It’s not a raffle where you pick whoever’s on top of the list. It’s a chance to say, “Ito ang pinaniniwalaan ko. Ito ang gusto kong magtrabaho para sa akin.” That should be the standard, not a survey score.

“Do not follow surveys,” Ranjit says, “Surveys are not a sample ballot.” If we want better leaders, we need to stop treating surveys like fortune tellers and start asking harder questions. Do I know this candidate’s stand on issues? Have they delivered on promises? Do they show up for the people, or just during election season?

The question isn’t who’s most likely to win. It’s who’s most worthy of your vote.