Children at the Crossroads of Justice
A child in conflict with the law peers through the bars of a youth detention facility, highlighting the high stakes of the juvenile justice debate.
Imagine a nine-year-old child behind bars, treated as a criminal rather than a child in need. This unsettling image could become reality in the Philippines if recent proposals to lower the Minimum Age of Criminal Responsibility (MACR) gain ground.
Currently set at 15 years old under the Juvenile Justice and Welfare Act (JJWA) of 2006, the MACR reflects a hard-won commitment to children’s rights and welfare. It ensures that children under 15 are exempt from criminal prosecution and instead receive interventions and rehabilitation. Yet some lawmakers have pushed to slash this age to 12—or even as low as 9—arguing it will curb youth crime. Child rights advocates, experts, and many leaders vehemently disagree. They warn that lowering the MACR would be a regressive step that endangers children, undermines their future, and ultimately harms society.
The Philippine Context: From Progress to Proposal
In 2006, the Philippines took a progressive leap by raising the MACR from 9 to 15 years old, aligning national law with the country’s obligations under the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child. This reform — the JJWA (Republic Act 9344) — recognized that “children in conflict with the law are first and foremost children,” and emphasized rehabilitation over punishment. It was a landmark victory that underscored a child’s capacity for change and the state’s duty to protect, not punish, its youth.
Fast forward to recent years, and the climate shifted. Amid public anxieties about crime and a nationwide anti-drug campaign, proposals emerged to lower the MACR. In 2019, the House of Representatives approved a bill to reduce the MACR to 12 years (after an initial draft of 9 years sparked outrage — I was an intern at this time). Around the same time, a Senate bill proposed setting it at 13.
Proponents claimed this would prevent adult criminals from using kids as accomplices and instill accountability among youth. Former President Rodrigo Duterte’s administration openly backed these efforts as part of a hardline crime policy. However, none of these measures became law: strong opposition in the Senate and from the public stalled the initiatives, including us from HLAF.
As of 2025, the MACR remains at 15 – the highest in Southeast Asia – reflecting the Philippines’ continued stance that children below this age belong in rehabilitation programs, not prison cells.
The backlash against lowering the MACR was swift and widespread. Child welfare groups, faith-based organizations, educators, and even many lawmakers condemned the idea as a dangerous regression. “This bill…is a giant leap backward,” many child rights advocates say.
Street protests ensued; hundreds of advocates rallied with slogans like “#ChildrenNotCriminals,” urging Congress to focus on rescuing children from exploitation and poverty rather than throwing them in jail.
Numerous voices converged on a clear message: Don’t punish children for our society’s failings. Instead, address the root causes and uphold our duty to protect the young.
Children, Not Criminals: Why Lowering the Age Is Harmful
1. Victims of Circumstance, Not Hardened Criminals: Children who run afoul of the law are often victims themselves – of poverty, abuse, neglect, and adult manipulation. Far from being irredeemable delinquents, they are minors whom society has failed. “Children in conflict with the law are already victims of circumstance, mostly because of poverty and exploitation by adult crime syndicates.”
Many are street children or kids from broken homes who fell under the influence of older criminals. Branding these vulnerable youths as criminals shifts the blame away from adults who should be protecting them.
Lowering the MACR would effectively punish children for being born into hardship. It treats the symptom (youth offending) while ignoring the cause (adult corruption, poverty, lack of guidance).
“You don’t help victimized and marginalized children by branding them as criminals and limiting their options while growing up.” To truly serve justice, we must recognize these kids as children in need of help, not criminals to be penalized.
2. No Deterrence, Only More Danger: Proponents argue that a lower MACR will deter adult syndicates from using kids in crimes. Evidence shows the opposite. Countries that have experimented with harsh juvenile laws have not seen major crime drops – instead, they often see higher reoffending. In the Philippines, syndicates recruit minors precisely because they are desperate and unlikely to be jailed; if the threshold is lowered, criminals will simply target even younger children.
The Child Rights Network warns that reducing the age “further reinforces the existing situation of syndicates using younger children in their criminal activities”. We could end up with 8-year-olds coerced into drug running or theft because older teens are now too risky to exploit. Meanwhile, genuine adult offenders would remain undeterred – they might even find it easier to victimize children who get caught up in crime. The supposed deterrent effect is an illusion; what’s real are the dangers that more children would face. Lowering the MACR would funnel greater numbers of kids into a punitive system, subjecting them to trauma and abuse, with no evidence that it reduces crime. As Amnesty International’s Minar Pimple noted during the 2019 debates, “This regressive law…will endanger children’s lives rather than reduce crime.” It would be a cure worse than the disease.
3. Lasting Trauma and Higher Recidivism: Sending children into the criminal justice system does profound, long-term damage – not only to the child, but to public safety. Research and experience show that incarcerating minors tends to harden them. In crowded detention centers (often alongside adults), children are exposed to violence, abuse, and criminal influences. Their education and development are disrupted, and the stigma of being an “ex-convict” follows them for life. The Child Rights Network cautions that imprisoning kids “harms their mental, emotional, and physical well-being and destroys their future. It also increases the likelihood that children will recidivate, compromising public safety.”
In other words, a child who might have been steered back to school and community becomes more likely to re-offend after spending formative years behind bars. Detention fails to teach accountability; it breeds bitterness and criminality. Save the Children Philippines, in a public statement, warned that pushing minors into the justice system “will only lead to further discrimination, abuse and eventually more anti-social behaviour”. Rather than reforming a troubled youth, a jail term can transform them into a career criminal.
Policymakers must ask: Do we want to create better citizens or better criminals? Lowering the MACR points toward the latter. If our goal is safer communities, evidence favors rehabilitative, community-based approaches over punitive detention for children.
4. Children Lack the Adult Mindset (Science Says So): Modern neuroscience has confirmed what any parent knows – children are not mini-adults. Their brains, especially areas tied to judgment and impulse control, are still developing well into late adolescence. “Studies in neurobiology show that adolescents’ brain function reaches maturity only around 16 years old, affecting their reasoning and impulse control,” UNICEF noted, highlighting that a 12-year-old’s decision-making is far less developed than an adult’s. Teenagers are prone to peer pressure and poor foresight; younger kids are even more so. They literally cannot fully understand the consequences of many actions. That’s why society sets age limits for marriage, voting, signing contracts, driving, or even employment – recognizing that youth need time to mature.
It’s a glaring contradiction to treat kids as incapable of adult responsibilities in every other realm, yet hold them criminally liable as adults for mistakes made at age 9, 12 or 14. International norms agree that 12 or 13 is too young to be pushed into the harsh criminal justice system. The UN Committee on the Rights of the Child has long urged countries “not to lower their MACR” and instead raise it, recommending 14 as an absolute minimum standard.
To criminalize pre-teens defies both science and global child-rights principles. It would effectively declare that Philippine children mature faster – or that their lives matter less – than those elsewhere. We know neither is true.
5. Breaching International Commitments: Lowering the MACR would place the Philippines in breach of its commitments under the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child (UNCRC) and other international guidelines that we, as a nation, have pledged to uphold. The UNCRC emphasizes that the best interests of the child must be a primary consideration in all laws (Article 3), and that detention of a child should be a measure of last resort (Article 37). Treating a 12-year-old as a criminal runs contrary to these principles. In fact, during the Philippines’ Universal Periodic Review in 2017, numerous UN member states urged our authorities not to lower the MACR but to fully implement the existing juvenile justice law.
In 2019, as talk of a lower age intensified, the UN’s child rights envoy and global experts raised alarms that such a move would violate children’s rights and harm our international standing.
The global trend is the opposite: many countries are raising their minimum ages in line with evolving standards. “It goes against [our] international commitments and a global trend of raising, not lowering, the criminal age,” Senator Risa Hontiveros and Senator Kiko Pangilinan argued during Senate deliberations. Indeed, the UN Committee on the Rights of the Child’s General Comment No. 24 (2019) explicitly urges states to move toward 14 years or higher as the minimum age.
The Philippines, with its current MACR of 15, has been cited as aligning well with these child-rights standards – our decision not to reduce the age in recent years even drew praise from the UN Committee in 2022.
Do we want to reverse course and become an outlier that rolls back child protection? For policymakers sworn to uphold the Constitution and international law, the answer should be clear. Lowering the MACR would flout our obligations and tarnish the country’s reputation as a child-friendly society.
6. Hitting the Poor the Hardest: There is a stark social justice dimension to this issue. The children most likely to be caught in crime are from the poorest, most marginalized communities. They are kids who scavenged or stole out of hunger, who got involved in drug couriering or gang activity because of shattered families and slum living conditions. Punitive laws thus disproportionately punish the poor. “It is anti-family, anti-poor, and simply unjust,” warned Senator Antonio Trillanes, a vocal opponent of the change.
Those with means will ensure their children get support and second chances; impoverished children, lacking support or legal help, would fill our detention centers. That outcome contradicts the very spirit of inclusive governance and social justice. It also threatens the family unit: jailing a child can permanently alienate them from their relatives and community, fracturing families who should instead be supported to rehabilitate the child. We must remember that juvenile crime is often born of economic desperation. As the principal author of the JJWA, Senator Francis “Kiko” Pangilinan, noted, “Poverty and hunger are at the root of these children’s problems… improving [their lives] through jobs, wages, and schooling are the solutions, not detaining our children and maltreating them.”
An iron-fist approach doesn’t solve poverty; it punishes people for it. True to our constitutional principles, our laws should aim to uplift the underprivileged, not compound their suffering. Lowering the MACR would do exactly that – hit the most vulnerable households the hardest – and thus fails a basic equity test.
7. The Existing Law Already Demands Accountability: A common misconception is that the current MACR lets youth offenders go “scot-free.” This is false. Republic Act 9344, as amended by RA 10630, provides a comprehensive framework to hold children accountable without criminalizing them. Children under 15 who commit offenses are not simply released; they undergo intervention programs – guided by social workers, psychologists, and community elders – tailored to address their behavior and needs. They may be required to do restitution, attend counseling, or perform community service. For serious offenses (like serious crimes committed by those aged 12 to 15), the law already allows for intensive intervention in youth facilities – essentially rehabilitation in a controlled environment.
In short, “the current law does not let children in conflict with the law go without discipline and accountability. Rather, it provides rehabilitation and encourages reparation for their wrongdoings,”.
This restorative justice approach holds young offenders to account in a way that they can learn and reform, rather than simply condemning them. None of us wants kids committing crimes, but the answer is not to shove a 12-year-old into prison; it’s to correct their course through guidance and education. If there are gaps in how this system is working, the solution is to fix the system, not to lower the age and throw more kids into it.
8. Focus on Implementation, Not Incarceration: Child rights experts unanimously urge that the way forward is not new punitive legislation, but better implementation of existing laws and investment in prevention. The truth is, since RA 9344’s enactment, support systems have lagged. Many local government units (LGUs) have not fully complied with mandates to build Bahay Pag-asa rehabilitation centers for youth or fund diversion programs. By 2018, only about 55 such centers existed out of over 100 required, and many lacked proper services. Only one-third of LGUs were allocating the required 1% of their budget to children’s programs.
Trained social workers for juvenile cases are in short supply (a 2024 review showed some regions have one social worker handling 80 cases, far from the ideal 1:25 ratio). These implementation failures have led to misconceptions that the law is too lenient, when in fact it has just been under-resourced. Instead of lowering the MACR, policymakers should channel their energy into strengthening the juvenile justice infrastructure: fund and build the required youth homes, hire and train more social workers and child psychologists, and roll out evidence-based programs like family conferencing, education/vocational training for at-risk youth, and community centers that keep kids off the streets.
Public opinion supports this: a Pulse Asia survey found 55% of Filipinos oppose lowering the MACR and prefer focusing on proper execution of the law for 15 years. The best interests of children are served when communities, law enforcers, schools, and social services work together to prevent youth crime and rehabilitate those who stray. That collective approach is what truly protects society – not the false promise of tougher penalties on kids.
How the Philippines Compares: An International Perspective
It’s useful for policymakers to see the bigger picture of juvenile justice worldwide. At 15 years old, the Philippine MACR is currently one of the highest in Asia, and it broadly aligns with international best practice. In our immediate region, Indonesia and Thailand use 12 as their baseline (though Thailand reserves full criminal liability for 15 and above), while Malaysia and Singapore still have it as low as 10.
The Philippines stands out for its more progressive threshold, reflecting a child-centric stance. This is something to be proud of, not rolled back. Other parts of the world have even higher ages: for example, Brazil and Peru set criminal responsibility at 18, and many European nations set it between 14 and 16. Even our neighbors who had low ages are reconsidering – discussions have been underway in Australia to raise the age from 10 to 14 in line with medical evidence and human rights advice, and New Zealand effectively keeps children under 14 out of the criminal courts except for extreme cases. Conversely, countries that cling to very low ages (like England at 10) face international criticism and pressure to reform.
Importantly, global bodies encourage a race to the top, not the bottom. The United Nations, through various forums, has repeatedly encouraged the Philippines not to lower its MACR. When our lawmakers in 2019 floated bringing it down to 12 or 9, the outcry from international child rights groups was deafening. “It flies in the face of internationally-agreed best practice,” warned the Child Rights International Network, reminding us that the UN Committee stated over a decade ago that governments should raise, not lower, the MACR.
For perspective, consider that General Comment 24 (2019) of the UNCRC explicitly recommends 14 years as the minimum, and urges countries to continue increasing the age as appropriate.
Had the Philippines pressed on with a drop to 12 or 9, it would have joined a shrinking minority of states bucking this advice – a stark contrast to our usual leadership on social issues. Policymakers should note that adherence to global norms is not mere altruism; it affects our international relations, our moral authority, and even practical matters like foreign aid or cooperation (as many grants and programs favor countries that uphold human rights). By keeping the MACR at 15 or even considering raising it further, the Philippines aligns with a vision of justice that is restorative and forward-looking, much like the systems in developed democracies that focus on the rehabilitation of youth. Our current stance has earned commendation, whereas lowering it would draw condemnation. In short, international comparison strongly reinforces that lowering the MACR is the wrong direction.
Conclusion: A Collective Responsibility for the Child’s Best Interests
At the heart of this debate lies a simple question: What kind of society do we want to build for our children? Is it one where we respond to juvenile missteps with empathy, science, and solutions – or one where we reflexively reach for handcuffs? The best interests of the child, a principle enshrined in our laws and the UNCRC, must guide us. And in the best interests of children, there is an overwhelming consensus that lowering the age of criminal responsibility is a step backwards. It neither fixes crime nor fosters justice. Instead, it risks throwing our most vulnerable sons and daughters into a pipeline of stigma and abuse.
For lawmakers and policymakers, the charge is clear. Upholding children’s rights is not the job of a single agency or sector – it is a collective responsibility. We must come together – the legislature, executive agencies, courts, civil society, communities, even families – to strengthen the protective net around our youth. This means fully enforcing and funding the Juvenile Justice and Welfare Act, improving coordination among agencies, and ensuring that no LGU is left without the facilities and trained personnel to support children in conflict with the law.
It means addressing the social ills (poverty, lack of education, family violence) that often precipitate youth offending, through poverty-reduction programs and family interventions. It also means continuously educating the public that children deserve second chances, not lifelong labels. As one coalition implored, “Let us focus our efforts on strengthening the implementation of the JJWA… support programs that strengthen families… [and] effective services to prevent young people from offending or re-offending.”.
Our constitution mandates that we promote the welfare of the youth and protect them from exploitation and danger – now is the time to live up to that duty, not shrink from it.
In the end, treating a troubled 12-year-old as a hardened criminal is neither just nor effective. Such a child needs guidance, education, and yes, accountability – but accountability appropriate to their age and capacity to change. By keeping the minimum age of criminal responsibility at 15 (and rejecting calls to lower it), the Philippines chooses compassion over fear, and evidence over impulse. We choose to see children as an investment in our future, not as threats. Policymakers should take pride in defending a law that says no child belongs in jail. It is a proud testament to a humane and progressive nation.
Instead of handcuffs, let us offer helping hands. Instead of prison cells, let us build school rooms and youth centers. The true measure of a society is how it treats its children – especially those who have stumbled. By collectively promoting the best interests of the child, we are not just saving children from a bleak fate; we are building a safer, kinder, and more just Philippines for generations to come.
