By the time this column has been published, we would have already known whether Philippine bet Chelsea Manalo secured the Miss Universe crown. (Manalo finished as one of the top 30 finalists and was named first Miss Universe Asia—Ed.) While it is common knowledge that beauty pageants have become a national obsession, it still astounds me just how much attention it commands.
Local news sites offered as many live updates on the 2024 Miss Universe finals as on Supertyphoon “Pepito.” Even without following the competition, knowing about the pageant results seems inescapable. Beauty pageants have long been criticized as sexist and outdated that promote the objectification of women by reducing them as visual spectacles who are expected to unrealistic ideals of beauty.
However, proponents of pageants argue that they have evolved, particularly in their efforts to embrace diversity and inclusion. For example, this year’s Miss Universe finals garnered attention for featuring “unconventional” candidates: 13 out of the 127 hopefuls are mothers—something that would have previously disqualified them from competing. This year also marked the removal of the age ceiling of 28, a step aimed at challenging ageism and the notion that women “expire” after a certain age.
Over the last decade, beauty pageants have also sought a more holistic definition of beauty by putting emphasis on the candidates’ advocacies. I saw this shift firsthand in 2019 when I was asked by Miss Universe Philippines to mentor candidates on effectively advancing their social causes. One of the organizers shared how their “ideal queen” was no longer just someone who had the “face, figure, and personality,” but also someone who is positively contributing to society.
Initially, I worried the candidates might just have “token causes,” but I was really impressed by their genuine passion and eagerness to better support the communities they are helping. While there is no doubt beauty pageants could benefit the contestants in many ways—honing their confidence and public speaking skills, being afforded a platform, and serving as a career springboard in a country where beauty queens are treated like royalty—one glaring issue needs to be urgently addressed: the vulnerability of candidates to sexual harassment and exploitation. When the Miss Earth finals was held in Manila in 2018, candidates from Canada and England accused a local businessman, one of the pageant sponsors, of offering them the crown in exchange for sex.
In a 2020 Undercover Asia interview, Janina San Miguel, a former titleholder who returned her crown, spoke about the various sexual propositions she received including P3 million for a one-night stand. Male contestants are equally preyed on. In the same interview, a male pageant candidate admitted that he agreed to sleep with sponsors in order to win several titles.
Joining pageants could be quite expensive and many of the candidates do not come from affluent families, heightening their vulnerability to exploitation. The candidate explained that he complied because he did not want to waste the financial investment he made to compete. The report further highlighted how these sponsors’ wealth and power create an environment where the pageant hopefuls feel powerless to speak out or seek recourse.
While these side arrangements likely occur without the direct involvement of organizers, this does not absolve them of responsibility. They should rigorously vet sponsors to ensure alignment with the values the pageants claim to represent. Organizers should also implement education and support systems for candidates like mandatory workshops on recognizing and addressing harassment, confidential reporting mechanisms, and access to legal and psychological support.
Given that many of these beauty contests are also organized and sponsored by their local barangays, the government could also adopt more proactive measures in ensuring these competitions are not tainted by abuse. A model worth considering is the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime’s partnership with the Colombian government, which conducted intensive workshops to help participants and their parents identify and report possible cases of trafficking and abuse. Filipino pageant fans can also serve as powerful advocates for reform.
The Philippines is not just known for its accomplished beauty queen, but also for its passionate, vocal, and engaged fan base. Fans can leverage their collective platform to raise awareness about exploitative practices and advocate for stronger protections and safeguards for participants. Beauty pageants are often marketed as vehicles for empowerment.
Through a concerted effort from organizers, the government, and fans, these competitions can better serve its promise of creating opportunities for the contestants, rather than benefiting some while leaving others to bear the cost of exploitation. —————- [email protected] Subscribe to our daily newsletter By providing an email address. I agree to the Terms of Use and acknowledge that I have read the Privacy Policy .
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The cost of the crown
By the time this column has been published, we would have already known whether Philippine bet Chelsea Manalo secured the Miss Universe crown. (Manalo finished as one of the top 30 finalists and was named first Miss Universe Asia—Ed.) While it is common knowledge that beauty pageants have become a national obsession, it still astounds