Filipino Values Starter Kit

Filipino Values Glossary (Tool 1)

Most people can name values.

The harder part is using them—when work gets tense, relationships get tested, and pressure tempts you to take shortcuts.

This glossary is meant to be a quick reference you can return to anytime. Read one entry. Use it in one moment. Then share the story.

Amor Proprio (Loving Oneself)

Amor proprio is self-respect—love for self that protects your dangal.

It’s why Filipinos hate being embarrassed in public. It’s why we resent being shouted at. And it’s also why we try hard not to embarrass others.

You see it at work when someone says, “Let’s talk in private,” instead of calling out a mistake in front of everyone. Or when a leader corrects an issue without crushing a person.

It goes off-track when self-respect becomes pride. When you can’t say “My fault,” because you’re protecting ego, not dignity.

Awa (Compassion for Others)

Awa is compassion that makes you care—and then do something about it.

It’s not just pity. It’s the human reflex that says, “I see you,” especially when someone is tired, anxious, or overwhelmed.

You see it when a teammate notices you drowning and quietly says, “Sige, I’ll take that task.” Or when a supervisor adjusts a deadline because someone is dealing with a real-life crisis—not as a favor, but as care.

It becomes unhealthy when awa turns into enabling. You keep rescuing, so the person never grows—and the team slowly resents it.

Bahala Na (Let Go & Let God)

Bahala na is trust in the middle of uncertainty.

It’s not laziness. It’s that Filipino mix of courage and faith: “I will do my part… and I will face whatever comes.”

You see it when a team launches a first version instead of waiting for perfect. Or when someone finally has the hard conversation they’ve been avoiding, even if the outcome is unknown.

It turns into a problem when “bahala na” becomes “okay na yan.” No preparation. No ownership. Pure gamble.

Bayanihan (We Are Heroes to Each Other)

Bayanihan is the instinct to carry the load together—because tayo ‘to.

It’s not “help if asked.” It’s “help because you noticed.” It’s the opposite of “Hindi ko trabaho yan.”

You see it when a deadline moves up and someone says, “Send me the draft. I’ll fix the formatting tonight.” Or when a teammate jumps into a messy problem even if it’s not their assignment—because the team’s win matters.

It breaks when people protect their own comfort and let others carry the heavy parts alone.

Delicadeza (We Value Our Reputation)

Delicadeza is our instinct to protect the dignity of our office, institution, or family—by avoiding situations that bring embarrassment.

You see it when a leader steps back from a decision because it will look like conflict of interest. Or when someone refuses a “favor” because they know it will stain the team’s name later.

In real life, delicadeza often shows up as: “Mag-step aside muna.” Not because the person is already guilty, but because the organization doesn’t need more damage.

It breaks when people become kapit-tuko—clinging to position, ignoring propriety, and acting like “basta legal, okay na.”

Diskarte (Street-Smart Strategy)

Diskarte is practical strategy—finding a way to win with what you have.

It’s the Filipino habit of looking at the same problem and asking, “Okay… what’s the move?” Not the perfect move. The workable move.

You see diskarte when a team has low budget but still delivers a strong output because they know how to simplify, reuse, negotiate, and sequence work. Or when a frontline staff handles a difficult customer by reading the mood, choosing the right tone, and offering a solution that saves the relationship.

Diskarte becomes dangerous when it turns into panlalamang—shortcuts that break trust, bending rules for personal gain, or “being clever” at the expense of others.

Used well, diskarte is wisdom under constraints.

Used badly, it’s just skillful damage.

Kagalingan (We Pursue Excellence)

Kagalingan is our pursuit of excellence—rooted in galing, which can mean excellence, wellness, and even a kind of “magic” when someone performs beyond the ordinary.

We take pride in world-class talent—singers, athletes, thinkers—because their excellence feels like a shared win.

At work, the fastest way to grow kagalingan is to make it social. Don’t keep excellence private. Name it. Celebrate it. Make improvement visible—not just “Top 10,” but “Most Improved,” “Most Customer-Friendly,” “Most Value-Adding.”

It breaks when excellence becomes yabang—performance without humility, winning without care for others.

Karangalan (We Value Honor)

Karangalan is honor—something we protect like life itself, because it represents what we’ve done for the people we love.

Even the poorest Filipino dreams of sending kids to school. When that happens, it feels like honor fulfilled: “Ginawa ko ang lahat.”

You see karangalan in the uncorrupted public official, the selfless teacher, the student who wins and brings pride to the whole community. Their achievement doesn’t just lift them—it lifts everyone around them.

It breaks when people chase image without integrity—looking honorable while quietly betraying trust.

Kasiyahan (Joy & Humor)

Kasiyahan is the expectation of joy when we gather—and the Filipino habit of using humor to stay human, even under pressure.

We’re drawn to people who can make us laugh. And we admire the kind of strength that can still smile in a hard season—not because the problem is small, but because the person refuses to lose control.

You see this in teams that can handle heavy workloads but refuse to stay in a psychologically toxic environment. Filipinos can endure difficult tasks. What breaks us is a workplace that feels cold, hostile, or humiliating.

Kasiyahan turns into avoidance when jokes become a way to dodge real conversations and real pain.

Katapatan (Sincerity and Loyalty)

Katapatan comes from tapat—sincere, open, honest, faithful, true. It’s the reason we value people we can trust with our name and our work.

When we’re loyal, we don’t lie to you. We don’t betray you. We look for what’s good for you—not just what’s good for us.

That’s also why the suki system works. Loyal customers return because they believe you won’t cheat them.

Katapatan breaks when promises become marketing—easy to say, hard to keep. And when trust is treated like something you can repair “later,” after the damage is done.

Kusang-Palo (We Take Initiative)

Kusang-palo means taking initiative. You don’t wait to be told. You move because you see what needs to be done.

I like the image used on the page: a carabao moves when hit with a stick. But that’s not who we want to be. We don’t need a stick. We don’t need constant supervision.

Kusang-palo is fixing what’s small before it becomes a leak. It’s preparing before the storm.

It breaks when people only move when watched—when “initiative” disappears the moment the boss leaves the room.

Maagap (Proactive and Prompt)

We say it plainly: “Daig ng maagap ang masipag.” Hard work matters, but promptness matters more.

The image is simple: farmers go out before sunrise. Fisherfolk go out before the cock crows. That’s maagap—moving early, not rushing late.

This is why I push back on the lazy idea of “Filipino time.” On the page, it’s framed as a colonial definition that doesn’t fit who we are at our best.

Maagap breaks when lateness becomes a power move—when people arrive late to signal status, not circumstance.

Mabuting Pakikitungo (Hospitality)

Mabuting pakikitungo is the Filipino habit of making people feel welcome, safe, and cared for.

It’s not performance. It’s warmth with attention. The small things: tone of voice, eye contact, offering help before it’s requested.

You see it when a new employee arrives and someone says, “Tara, I’ll show you around,” instead of letting them figure it out alone. Or when a team includes the quiet person in the conversation, so they don’t feel invisible.

It gets distorted when hospitality becomes people-pleasing—when you say yes to everything, then silently build resentment.

Magalang (Respectful)

Magalang is respect shown in everyday ways—what we call people, how we speak, how we avoid offending their dangal.

That’s why we say Ate and Kuya. That’s why we say sir and ma’am. Even “boss” has a meaning: I see you, and I won’t treat you like nothing.

Magalang is also listening to how people want to be addressed—and honoring that.

It breaks when companies “westernize” respect without understanding the culture—then wonder why people feel unseen. People don’t leave their values at the door, and forcing them to do so creates double lives.

Magpasalamat (Being Grateful)

When I was in college, there was a small store run by someone students nicknamed Mister Salamat—not because it was his surname, but because he always said thank you.

Even if you stayed and didn’t buy anything, he’d still thank you for dropping by. And because people felt appreciated, they kept returning.

At work, gratitude often looks like going the extra mile—not because you’re forced, but because you remember the good you received.

It breaks when leaders demand gratitude but don’t practice it. If you want people to be grateful, express gratitude to them often. And when you want to go deeper, our gratitude becomes most visible through utang na loob.

Makabayan (Love of Country)

Makabayan is choosing what’s good for the country, not just what’s good for you.

I connected this to bayanihan: love of country often shows up as collective action—doing things together, for the common good.

You see makabayan when a leader refuses corruption even if it would benefit their circle. Or when a citizen votes or speaks based on conscience, not just loyalty. Sometimes, being makabayan will even trump utang na loob.

It breaks when “love of country” becomes slogan only—loud online, quiet in real life, and absent when integrity costs something.

Makatao (Humane)

Makatao is treating people as people—never as disposable tools.

On the page, I said we expect those in power to think about the welfare of people. And we call leaders “hindi makatao” when they’re harsh with words and put people down.

You see makatao in a boss who corrects mistakes without humiliating anyone. Or in leaders who can be firm on standards while still being human in how they speak and listen.

It breaks when leaders use fear as a management style—then act surprised when people leave the moment they find another job.

Malasakit (We Care for Others)

Malasakit is care that shows up, not care that stays in your heart.

Aside from bayanihan, this is one of the most expected values in Filipino life—especially from leaders. If you can’t care for people, you can’t call yourself a public servant.

You see malasakit when a company doesn’t just “manage employees,” but takes care of them—and even considers what happens to their families. You also see it when businesses refuse to sell products that harm communities.

I think of teachers who stay late to help students, and even spend from their own pocket for supplies. That’s malasakit. And yes, you also see it in employees who go the extra mile for customers.

It breaks when “care” becomes branding—CSR for photos, but no real protection for the people doing the work.

Malikhain (Creativity)

Malikhain is the Filipino habit of finding solutions—then creating opportunities when none exist.

That’s why we thrive in messy situations. We don’t just wait for the perfect setup. We invent. We improvise. We build.

A good example I like is Rags2Riches—an idea that creates livelihood while recycling textile waste. It’s creativity that helps real people, not just creativity for applause.

At work, malikhain looks like a team that asks, “What else can we try?” instead of “Wala na tayong magagawa.”

It breaks when creativity gets punished—when the culture rewards only obedience, then wonders why people stop thinking.

Mapamaraan (Resourcefulness)

Mapamaraan is resourcefulness—finding a way with what you have.

My favorite line here is the one I learned from my grandfather: kapag may gusto may paraan, kapag ayaw may dahilan. Desire finds a way. Excuses find a story.

This is why Filipinos don’t respect excuses. If you want something, you’ll find ways. Even if resources are limited, we don’t have to be limited.

If you’re leading a team, this is gold: passionate people will surprise you with solutions—if you give them space to try. Jef Menguin

It breaks when resourcefulness turns into shortcuts—when “finding a way” becomes “finding a loophole.”

Masagana (Abundance)

Masagana is abundant life—not just money, but the kind of life people pray for: health, joy, and being with the people we love.

On the page, I said families define abundance differently, but many Filipinos will call life “masagana” if they can send kids to school, harvest from their labor, and avoid sickness.

You see masagana in the family that doesn’t have “gazillions,” but has peace, pagkain sa mesa, and hope for the next season. Even our greeting carries it: Masaganang Bagong Taon.

It breaks when abundance becomes greed—when “more” matters more than people, and success is measured only by what you hoard, not what you grow and share.

Masikap (Diligent Worker)

Masikap is diligence with purpose.

We believe work feeds us. Work provides for the family. Work sends kids to school. That belief shapes how Filipinos show up—even when the job is hard.

We also believe what we earn should come from honest sweat, not from stealing or taking what isn’t ours. There’s honor in that.

One simple way to make this value visible at work is to recognize it. A “Masikap Award” sounds small, but it tells people: we notice stick-to-itiveness, not just talent.

It breaks when diligence becomes exploitation—when people are praised for sacrifice but never protected from burnout.

Matino (Sensible)

Matino is being sensible by aligning your actions with accepted principles.

A matino person protects integrity and the welfare of the people they serve. They don’t do things that compromise what’s right.

That’s why we call judges matino when they’re fair and just—no favoritism for connections or money. We call students matino when they take their studies seriously. We expect teachers—and especially leaders—to be matino.

At work, Filipinos try hard to be seen as matino. They avoid actions that can tarnish reputation. So if you want people to do the right thing, make expectations clear—and they’ll work hard to meet them.

It breaks when “being matino” becomes image management—looking clean while quietly tolerating what’s corrupt.

Pagpapahalaga sa Pamilya (Family First and Last)

Pagpapahalaga sa pamilya is the value of placing the family’s interest above personal interest—even when it costs you comfort, prestige, or ease.

This is why many Filipinos work abroad. Not to “find themselves,” but to make sure their kids get a good education and the family moves forward.

You see it at work when an employee asks to leave early to care for a sick parent. It’s not always “lack of commitment.” Sometimes it’s commitment—just to something deeper.

It breaks when “family first” becomes “family favors”—using relationships to bypass fairness and accountability.

Pakikipagkapwa-tao (Interpersonal Relationships)

Pakikipagkapwa-tao is the belief that the other person is not “other.” Kapwa means of the same nature—your other self.

That’s why respect isn’t optional for us. You can be the boss, yes. But don’t make people feel inferior. Filipinos will follow authority—but they won’t forget disrespect.

I still remember that old show “Kapwa Ko, Mahal Ko.” It carried the same message: help people because they are kapwa, not because you will benefit.

It breaks when power turns into insult—when leadership becomes “I’m above you,” not “I’m responsible for you.”

Pakikiramay (Sympathy)

Pakikiramay is the habit of showing up—especially in loss.

We go to a lamay not for the dead, but for the living. We sit, we listen, we stay. That presence says, “Hindi ka mag-isa.”

In the workplace, pakikiramay is one of the quickest ways to build trust. A manager who can say, “I’m sorry you’re going through that,” becomes human—not just a title.

It breaks when sympathy becomes performance—seen on the group chat, absent in real support.

Pakikisama (Fellowship)

Pakikisama is belonging. It’s the Filipino need to feel part of a group—because being together energizes us.

This is why “imposed policies” often fail. If people don’t feel included, they won’t support it. But when you turn a project into a communal effort, it moves.

I’ve seen initiatives like 5S work better when framed as a community project, not a compliance project. Put trusted champions in front, and people follow.

It breaks when pakikisama becomes fear of conflict—when harmony is used to avoid hard truths and necessary decisions.

Pananampalataya (Faith in Supreme Being)

Pananampalataya is faith in God—even among those who don’t describe themselves as religious.

This is the same faith behind “Bahala na.” “I will do it because God is with me.” It’s courage anchored on a bigger meaning.

That’s also why many Filipinos see work as service—not just to a boss, but to something higher. And when a company harms the community, it feels selfish, not just “bad strategy.”

It breaks when faith becomes an excuse to stop doing your part—when prayer replaces preparation.

Tibay ng Dibdib (Fortitude)

Tibay ng dibdib is fortitude—the will to fight even when the chance of winning is tiny. We connect it to puso, to the stubborn courage to keep going.

We love the underdog because, in many ways, we are the underdog. Give Filipinos a challenging project and many will take it—kahit first time.

This isn’t reckless bravery. It’s the confidence that we can find ways to make things happen.

It breaks when courage becomes stubbornness—when we keep pushing the same approach, refusing to learn, refusing to adjust.

Tiyaga (Patience)

Tiyaga is the quiet strength to keep working—especially when the work is hard, slow, and repetitive.

I wrote it this way on the page: we value hard work, and we keep doing what we ought to do. Not for applause. Not for drama. Just because quitting won’t give us anything.

You see tiyaga in the teammate who keeps improving a process little by little. Or the staff who shows up early, does the work properly, and doesn’t need constant pushing. Kapag may tiyaga, may nilaga.

It breaks when tiyaga becomes blind endurance—when people keep grinding in a system that’s clearly broken, and no one is allowed to question or improve it.

Utang na Loob (Debt from Within)

Utang na loob is the Filipino instinct to give back what we received—because it came at the right time, in the deepest way, and it changed something for us.

This isn’t paid with money. If you give money to get a favor, that’s payment—or worse, bribery. Utang na loob is different: it’s reciprocity without a price tag.

You see it when a leader mentors an employee, the employee gets promoted, and suddenly the employee can send their kids to college. The leader calls it “part of the job.” The employee feels a lifelong debt of gratitude.

It breaks when utang na loob becomes favoritism—when people use “I owe you” to bypass fairness, merit, and proper process.