THE rising cases of school violence in the Philippines have forced the country to confront a reality it has long believed was confined to foreign headlines. Parents were distraught, and communities were shaken as they believed that such violence was unimaginable from the students of the Philippine education.

The notion of mass school shootings was unheard of in the country, and in the wake of one of the deadliest school tragedies in recent Philippine history, particularly the school shooting at San Jose National High School in Tacloban City last June 22. As such, some government officials deemed it correct to call for temporary game bans, and even attempted to summon Gorebox’s foreign developer to attend a hearing; after all, it was better to magnify a culprit that the entire country can direct its anger and point its collective finger towards rather than address a systemic cause.

The identified culprits were minors, 14 and 15-years-old, respectively. Meaning they automatically fall under the jurisdiction of the Department of Social Welfare and Development (DSWD), the department primarily responsible for handling intervention and rehabilitation in such cases in accordance with the Juvenile Justice and Welfare Act of 2006 or Republic Act No. 9344. 

At such a young age, we cannot entirely discern whether the culprit truly knows what is right from wrong. With this, the DSWD has standard procedures to treat minors who come into conflict with the law, such as physical and mental examinations, while the culprits undergo investigation in rehabilitation centers. 

The two culprits, as mentioned, opened fire on school grounds, taking the lives of three students while wounding 20. Under the country’s juvenile justice laws, the 15-year-old, confirmed to have acted with discernment as per DSWD Secretary Rex Gatchalian,  faces criminal liability and is subject to judicial proceedings. On the other hand, the 14-year-old, the suspect who fired most of the shots, while placed under long-term rehabilitation, is exempt from criminal liability as they are deemed below criminal responsibility under RA 9344. 

There are talks to amend and adjust the provisions of the Act, but until then, the suspects will remain in the custody of the DSWD.

Following the shooting, Senator Risa Hontiveros announced a Senate inquiry into online radicalization and sought to question the Germany-based developer of GoreBox, Felix Filip of F2 Games, regarding its safeguards, moderation policies, and age restrictions. Initial investigation discovered that one of the shooters played it, claiming that the game, which had an R18 rating from the International Age Rating Coalition, may have heavily influenced the shooter, according to PNP Spokesperson Allen Rae Co.

 The Cybercrime Investigation and Coordinating Center also temporarily blocked access to the game while investigations continued. 

Yes, protecting children online is a legitimate responsibility of the government. But the move displayed a poor understanding of the mechanisms behind game development and its publishing. Digital platforms always have age ratings and restrictions in their descriptions, and there are systems set in place to monitor the ages of their users.

It was clear that the issue ran deeper — much deeper — than surface-level evidence linking the suspect to a mere video game, but the government instead insisted that it be the central explanation for the rising cases of school violence.

Even preliminary investigations pointed to factors far beyond a video game: allegations of bullying, evidence that the attack had been planned, and the fact that the firearms came from adults who had legal access to them. The alleged online chats of the culprits prior to the shooting began circulating on social media, and investigations show that one of the firearms used belonged to a policewoman who is one of the suspects’ relatives. 

None of these facts originated inside a computer or cellphone screen. 

Condemning violent games allows politicians to project decisiveness without confronting the far more difficult questions that reside inside households. Moreover, there was already an existing aversion to video games from select members of the community, especially those from older generations.

Video games therefore become a convenient target, a scapegoat of sorts—not necessarily because they are proven causes, but because they offer a simple narrative that the public can easily understand. 

Sensitive cases such as these demand evidence, not simply incidental “suspects” that they can immediately shift the blame. Discourse was quick to shift to moderation and digital regulation instead of asking the more grim questions in front of us.

How did minors get their hands on a deadly firearm? Where were their parental figures? Were there alarming warning signs at home?

There is another consequence of this misplaced focus: it redirects public frustration away from those who possessed actual authority over these children. Those who should’ve been accountable for their child’s actions.

Developmental psychology has repeatedly shown that early childhood experiences shape emotional regulation, empathy, impulse control, and social behavior. During the formative years, children learn not merely through instruction but through observation. Parents become their first teachers, first disciplinarians, and first examples of how conflict should be handled.

Parents exercise far greater influence over a child’s daily life than any game developer ever will.

Sure, the violence that they witness in games and their surrounding communities may create ripples that shape them later down the line, but how can a child get their hands on said violence in the first place?

Parents decide whether age restrictions are truly enforced. They decide how much unsupervised media access their children receive. And they decide whether they recognize or ignore the changes in behavior their child undergoes. 

This is not to claim that every troubled child comes from a broken home, nor that every parent whose child commits violence is malicious or neglectful. Human behavior is never that simple. But when discussing responsibility, parents remain the single most influential force in a child's development. 

The search for a single villain after every tragedy is understandable. It offers certainty in moments when grief leaves only confusion. But these convenient narratives have never prevented violence, nor has it protected children from the conditions that allow such violence to grow. 

The strongest predictor of a child's behavior has never been the screen. It was the environment that surrounded the screen. If millions of Filipinos play games deemed violent by the government, yet only an infinitesimal fraction resort to violence, then the game itself cannot be the deciding variable. It cannot be the enemy that they continue to antagonize.

In fact, there was never a singular enemy that we could all point our fingers at. Banning a series of games or interrogating a foreign developer will merely remain a blanket solution that will never address the systemic rot that surrounds it.

And as long as we continue searching for someone to blame behind screens instead of confronting the failures inside our homes, schools, and institutions, we will continue to fail the youth, over and over again.

After all, the roots of violence often lie much closer to home.