There is something gut-wrenching in listening to a teen struggle through reading aloud of one sentence of a textbook. It is not so much the question of being off in syllables or of violating the rules of punctuation—it is the moment of silence, the heavy-with-embarrassment classroom, and the silent looking down by classmates who are ashamed for the person who never ought to have been in the specific grade level to begin. This is not fiction. It is the lived experience of many teachers who, despite their passion and persistence, are often compelled to promote students who cannot yet decode a basic paragraph. And it is precisely why many educators are calling—again—for the restoration of the “No Read, No Move” policy.
This clamor, echoed on Education Secretary Sonny Angara’s social media following his strong statements on fighting functional illiteracy, is neither political noise nor misplaced nostalgia. It is a desperate, reasoned response from the trenches. The teachers posting “Ibalik ang No Read, No Move” are not heartless gatekeepers. They are worn-out frontline workers begging for a system that values foundational learning before formal progression. What they are calling for is not punishment—but protection.
Let us be specific here: the 2024 Functional Literacy, Education, and Mass Media Survey (FLEMMS) of the Philippine Statistics Authority (PSA) revealed the disturbing fact. Around 18.9 million Filipinos aged 10 to 64 are functionally illiterate—they are incapable of comprehending, interpreting, and applying simple written information in practical situations despite being able to recite words verbally. As Karol Yee of EDCOM 2 noted, this is not merely a statistical red flag. This is a threat to our social fabric. This means millions of workers who cannot read instruction manuals, mothers who cannot properly dose their child’s antibiotics, and voters who may misunderstand ballot instructions or campaign promises.
Functional illiteracy, as studies have shown, is not a high school problem. It is a Grade One problem that snowballed. In the 1990s, before the gradual shift to the mass promotion culture, most children in public schools learned to read in Grade 1. The reading crisis began not with lazy learners, but with lazy systems. DepEd Order No. 45, s. 2002, which prescribed the “No Read, No Move” policy at Grade 3, was itself a watered-down version of what used to be a stricter, more effective Grade 1 threshold. Unfortunately, as classroom realities evolved, the policy gathered dust. Enforcement was optional. And soon, learning to read became negotiable.
Board Member Jason Gonzalez of Iloilo captured it best when he said we need to restore the policy urgently to plug the learning hemorrhage. That is no exaggeration. EDCOM 2’s findings in 2025 suggest that students are now performing four to five years behind expected reading competencies. Some Grade 8 learners read at Grade 3 levels—or worse. Teachers confirm this every day in classrooms where comprehension questions about a simple paragraph yield either copied phrases or blank stares. When the only requirement to move up is time served in a chair, we end up awarding diplomas for presence, not proficiency.
This is not to say that the Department of Education has done nothing. To be fair, DepEd under Secretary Angara has recognized the problem. The “Bawat Bata Bumabasa” campaign, ARAL program, and the recalibration of grading and retention policies are well-meaning steps. But they are not enough—not while the core incentive structure still encourages mass promotion to meet enrollment targets or avoid backlash from irate parents.
To complicate matters, policies like “No Student Left Behind,” adapted locally from global models, have fostered a culture of promotion at all costs. While designed to ensure equity, they inadvertently diluted accountability. Learning gaps are now normalized. Some administrators even discourage retention of non-readers, fearing it would reflect poorly on their performance indicators. As a result, even well-meaning teachers feel helpless—like medical workers told to discharge patients still bleeding.
Some argue that retaining children for not reading might stigmatize them or harm their self-esteem. That is a valid concern. But is it truly compassionate to allow a child to grow up unable to read, only to face ridicule or unemployment later in life? Delaying a grade to address literacy is not an academic death sentence. It is a second chance—if done with adequate support, proper communication with parents, and tailored interventions. There is nothing kind about setting a child up for a lifetime of illiteracy.
Interestingly, the gap in reading proficiency is much less visible in private schools, where reading is taught rigorously in Kindergarten and Grade 1. The contrast speaks volumes. Many private schools still treat literacy as the single most important academic foundation. Public school teachers, too, know this. What they lack is systemic backing and clear policy teeth. Without something like a mandated “No Read, No Move” policy at the earliest level, their interventions remain optional, often ignored when inconvenient.
The research backs this up. A 2023 paper in the International Journal of Education and Teaching (Idulog et al., 2023) points out that reading challenges among Filipino learners are rooted not in cognitive deficits, but in systemic issues—lack of reading materials, poor nutrition, insufficient training, and inconsistent implementation of early literacy programs. Even the well-intended Every Child A Reader Program (ECARP) and the Philippine Informal Reading Inventory (Phil-IRI) lost their credibility when improperly implemented or quietly altered in ways that diluted their original intent. According to education advocate Estanislao Albano Jr., the very institutions created to safeguard reading benchmarks have at times enabled their erosion.
We also must connect the threads of early literacy to future social ills. Literacy is directly related to economic mobility, civic participation, and even physical well-being. An illiterate citizen is also susceptible to misinformation, workplace injury, and poverty traps. If functional literacy is currently only 70.8%, then nearly every third Filipino is at risk. And while curriculum reforms in the offing are promising, they will fall short without a firm, early reading baseline. That is why this is not just an education issue—it is a national survival issue.
Some have proposed that instead of relying on DepEd to reinstate the policy, Congress should pass a law institutionalizing “No Read, No Move” at Grade 1, with corresponding support systems and budget. That may be a more pragmatic route. After all, the same DepEd that acknowledged non-readers in high school has, in the past, failed to act decisively even with clear evidence. It is also worth noting that national literacy goals have shifted too frequently—from “Every Child a Reader by Grade 1” under Aquino, to broader but vaguer targets under newer leadership. We need policy consistency, not slogans.
Still, let us be careful. This is not a call to return to rote memorization or rigid pedagogy. It is a call to return to something even more basic: not moving children up when they have not yet learned to read. It is a plea to prioritize comprehension before completion. To measure mastery, not mercy. And to ensure that no child is pushed forward just because the calendar says so.
We owe it to the children, especially those in far-flung barangays where home support is minimal, where books are few, and where the teacher is the only hope. We owe it to the parents who expect—rightfully—that when their child reaches Grade 3, they can at least read a storybook aloud. We owe it to our country, which cannot move forward if a third of its citizens cannot read its Constitution.
A diploma that cannot read a job description is not just a paper. It is a broken promise. Let us stop faking that completing the grade is the same thing as learning. If we are to bind the wounds of the present generation and to prevent future scars, we have to stop the bleeding where it begins: in the doors of literacy. Let children move only when they can read. Not because it is cruel—but because it is just.
Doc H fondly describes himself as a ”student of and for life” who, like many others, aspires to a life-giving and why-driven world grounded in social justice and the pursuit of happiness. His views do not necessarily reflect those of the institutions he is employed or connected with.
