Every few months, headlines warn of another electricity price hike, a familiar sting for Filipino households already strained by inflation. For many, the question is no longer if power will become more expensive, but whether it will ever be affordable again.
Electricity remains the lifeblood for Filipino households. A recent Philippine Statistics Authority (PSA) report shows that 94.8 percent of households, which translates to about 26.5 million homes, are connected to the grid. But accessibility does not always mean affordability. For millions, each increase in the monthly bill chips away income that can be used for other essentials like food and education, and this in turn, erodes opportunity, livelihood, and hope.
That sense of urgency brought residents of Labrador, Pangasinan, together for this year’s Stand Up for Nuclear (SUFN) 2025 town hall, a gathering that felt less like a debate and more like a community taking its future into its own hands.
Organized by Alpas Pinas, a non-stock, non-profit organization dedicated to promoting nuclear energy as a clean and sustainable source of power, and attended by Pangasinan 2nd District Representative Mark O. Cojuangco, a staunch nuclear advocate and principal author of the Philippine Atomic Energy Regulatory Authority (PhilAtom) Law, the event drew local officials and residents to discuss what it would mean for this quiet town to host a modern nuclear facility. The proposal, once abstract, is now deeply personal.
A Decision by the People
When the town hall opened, it wasn’t merely officials addressing a crowd; it was democracy in action. For years, the idea of a nuclear plant in Labrador hovered as a possibility and was met with both curiosity and caution. But according to Cojuangco, the discussion changed when locals began to see nuclear power as an engine for the town’s growth.
“I challenged them [citizens of Labrador], I said if this is what they want, write to the government that you will invite companies or the government to build a nuclear plant here in Labrador,” Cojuangco recalled.
The challenge sparked a movement. Within months, 65 percent of registered voters in the municipality signed a notarized petition inviting the development of a nuclear facility which is a rare and formal declaration of consent.
For Mayor Noel Uson, the decision marks both progress and prudence. “We are in full support of nuclear energy utilization,” he said, “but safety and security will always come first.”
Vice Mayor Melchora Yaneza agreed, adding that strict oversight and preparedness would be key to earning public trust.
Powering Livelihoods
Much of the town hall’s focus was on livelihood. A 1,000-MW plant, Cojuangco explained, carries a project value of about US$4 billion, with as much as 60 to 65 percent of spending expected to circulate through local civil works, supply chains, and services. Properly managed, this could become a cornerstone for regional economic development.
Equally compelling was the promise of lower electricity costs. Cojuangco projected that under the right framework, nuclear energy could provide power at PHP5 per kWh, or even free for local households, under certain arrangements.
“Do you think that with electricity that cheap, investors wouldn’t flock to Labrador to build all sorts of businesses, livelihoods, and industries? And who would benefit from permanent jobs, wouldn’t it be you as well?” Cojuangco emphasized.
Equally important is longevity. Modern nuclear plants can operate for up to 80 years, offering stable power and economic stability across generations. For small businesses long constrained by high utility bills, that longevity could be the difference between survival and growth.
Safety, Trust, and Transparency
Fear remains nuclear power’s most enduring obstacle, but the town hall discussed that modern engineering and transparent governance can turn fear into informed confidence.
Cojuangco cited the Diablo Canyon Power Plant in California, built to endure seismic forces more than twice the usual standard—a related situation for the Philippines—which lies on the Pacific Ring of Fire.
“If a plant in earthquake country like California can operate safely for decades, there’s no reason the Philippines—with the right regulation and technology—cannot do the same,” he affirmed.
Cojuangco also detailed how deep geological repositories and borehole disposal have become global benchmarks for managing high-level nuclear waste, backed by decades of research from the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) and will be properly regulated with the passage of PhilAtom Law.
“Safety is not negotiable; trust must be earned through open information, strong oversight, and honest communication. Transparency should extend beyond construction to day-to-day operations, and the people must be involved not just in approval but in continuous monitoring. That’s how we build a culture of safety,” he assured.
A National Turning Point
For a town of fewer than 30,000 people, Labrador’s actions have drawn national attention. This ignited the plans of the Department of Energy (DOE) to explore nuclear power options, from rehabilitating the Bataan Nuclear Power Plant to pursuing new feasibility studies with international partners.
In fact, a recent Social Weather Stations (SWS) survey commissioned by the DOE found that 70% of Filipinos now support or are open to nuclear energy—a level of acceptance unseen in previous decades.
For Alpas Pinas Lead Convenor Gayle Certeza, Labrador represents a turning point, stating, “This is a town that chose nuclear energy not out of fear or politics, but hope. “You are the ones putting the Philippines on the map of nuclear energy.”
If Labrador’s example holds, it could become a national template, proof that the path to a nuclear future runs not through laboratories or boardrooms, but through communities.
Because in the end, nuclear power in the Philippines is not just about reactors or policy. It is, at its core, about people—those who will live with the energy, build with it, and, ultimately, be empowered by it.
