Recently, I stumbled upon a Philippines-based podcast called "Dogshow Divas," and it's gold. It’s not just funny; it’s like an archive space that perfectly captures the authentic, unfiltered essence of Filipino pop culture from the pre-social media era. Every episode really hits home, making me nostalgic for those moments of genuine freedom, without the crushing pressure and societal justification that online platforms demand now.
On one particular episode, the hosts were discussing the confusing culture of "networking" in the Philippines. Hearing them talk about it checked all the boxes on my own experiences. This article is my attempt to share that truth.
For many Filipinos, "networking" has a deeply conflicted reputation. On one hand, you hear inspiring stories of empowerment and success; on the other, you hear far more dramatic and awful stories that just leave you annoyed. It's a fundamental love-hate relationship with the practice itself.
The invitation that cost me my energy
My personal journey into this confusing world began with a simple invitation. A friend asked me to catch up, and toward the end of our lovely chat, she casually mentioned an event at her office later that evening. She described it as having 'drinks and interesting people' from various fields, including business, journalism, and the creative arts. As a curious journalist, I said yes immediately. Plus, really, I was there for the free drinks. Little did I know that this innocent-sounding event would lead me into a world of confusion and exhaustion.
It wasn't until I arrived that I realized the event wasn't a professional networking opportunity; it was a multi-level marketing (MLM) scheme, often disguised here as a 'business opportunity.' The core mechanism is simple: you invite more people to become entrepreneurs by selling products, usually as an online distributor. The massive selling point? You can allegedly earn double your monthly salary, quickly, by doing this 'sideline job.' The promise was alluring; the potential seemed endless.
The process is always the same: you start by inviting people, then meet the top earners in the organization, and then continue inviting. To even gain a spot, you often have to invest your own money to secure a membership or a product starter pack.
The lure and the lie
For about three months, I was utterly absorbed. I kept attending the workshops and networking sessions. They were captivating. I would spend an hour or two listening to top earners and directors share their "amazing stories and success," which always came with a dazzling visual presentation. They showed off their fancy cars, fancy condominiums, records of paid-off debts, and new small business ventures, from hair salons to restaurant franchises.
I’m being honest: I often felt so poor and so out of reach with all of their achievements that I started questioning either, "Do I want to be her/him?" or "Will I ever reach that level of success?"
However, the inspiration quickly gave way to disillusionment. I had to create endless lists of people to invite, spend long hours travelling to their offices, and wake up early or stay up late just to catch up with them online and manage to invite them on a 'date' to secure a spot. Every casual interaction became a potential sales pitch, and I started to feel like I was compromising my friendships. I was losing my energy, and I quickly became burnt out. The promise was shattered, and the reality was far short of the initial allure.
The promise was that this was a fun and energizing extra income, a manageable side hustle. It was not. I left and finally gave up, but not without a personal cost. The toll was not just financial but emotional and physical. The promise of a 'quick buck' had turned into a heavy burden.
When social norms collapse
My story is not unique. Shortly after I left, I began hearing numerous rumors about people being scammed by this exact pyramid scheme design. In many cases, only the person at the very top profited, while those who made numerous investments lost their money. The scams often involved selling products ranging from vitamins and energy drinks to widespread, culturally sensitive items, such as whitening soap and toothpaste.
The deeper problem with this model is that it blurs the lines between social and market norms. Social norms are the unwritten rules that govern our interactions with others, while market norms are the principles that guide our transactions in the business world. By forcing you to turn your most valuable assets, your friendships and family relationships, into business opportunities, this practice strains bonds and creates lasting negative feelings. When the money runs out or the products never materialize, people literally disappear, blocking friends on social media and phone numbers, leaving a trail of betrayal and financial loss. The scams became so prevalent that they even made the local news. This not only led to financial loss but also damaged personal relationships, creating a sense of betrayal and distrust among friends and family members.
The true cost of chasing the "quick buck"
My conviction to stay away was solidified after speaking with the friend who had first invited me. She confessed to losing a lot of her own money and had to ask for loans from banks or borrow money from family members. To retain her position in the pyramid, she had to shell out her own funds when her invitations didn't convert into investors.
She also told me that she almost lost her day job. She didn't get a lot of sleep due to the endless late-night meetings, the long commute, and the mental distraction of constantly thinking about how many more invitations she needed to secure a promotion. This truly broke me and made me realize how dangerous this path was.
Distinguishing the connection
It is crucial to differentiate the scheme I just described from legitimate, professional networking. Authentic connection, when done correctly, is a positive force that aligns beautifully with Filipino values, especially the Bayanihan spirit of communal unity and mutual support.
This type of networking offers genuine benefits, including access to unadvertised career opportunities, mentorship, professional growth, and the opportunity to exchange valuable industry knowledge. It works because it shifts the mentality from "what's in it for me?" to "how can I add value to others?" For instance, I've had the opportunity to meet inspiring professionals in my field, learn from their experiences, and even collaborate on projects that have enriched my career. This is the kind of networking that aligns beautifully with Filipino values, especially the Bayanihan spirit of communal unity and mutual support.
But sadly, the prevalence of the pyramid model casts a long, negative shadow over the legitimate practice.
Choose yourself
If you are reading this and you were part of my networking journey, I hope you are happy and accomplished where you are now. If you are struggling or feel trapped, then please know this is your sign to make a change. Choose yourself; prioritize your well-being and mental health above a toxic system. You have the power to make a positive change in your life.
Ultimately, while studies show both positive and negative sides of "networking" in the Philippines, the stories of burnout, financial loss, and mental exhaustion are too loud to ignore.
If you’ve never encountered this specific pyramid scheme trend in the Philippines, what do you think? Is this something you've experienced or heard about in your own world?















