Do You Ever Study Law?

In a stunning display of intellectual courage that has left the global legal community reeling, Senator Robin Padilla—a man whose primary experience with the "Bar" usually involves a mahogany counter and a dramatic lighting cue—has finally asked the question the world was too afraid to pose: "Does the International Criminal Court even study the law?"

Move over, Grotius. Step aside, Pustarova. The new Chief Justice of the Universe has arrived, and he’s wearing a very well-tailored Barong.

The Dunning-Kruger Effect

To the uninformed ... the Dunning-Kruger effect is a cognitive bias where people with limited knowledge or competence in a particular domain (in Robin's case, the law ...) overestimate their own knowledge and, due to their lack of self-awareness, they fail to recognize their own incompetence, often leading to unearned confidence.

There is a specific kind of magic that occurs when a man who once played a "Bad Boy" on screen explains the nuances of international treaty obligations to a room full of people who spent twenty years getting PhDs in Rome Statute interpretation. 

It’s called the Dunning-Kruger Peak, and the view from the top is spectacular.

From the Senator’s perspective, the ICC Prosecution is basically a group of confused interns who forgot to Google "Rights of the Accused." 

His critique—“Nag-aaral ba kayo ng batas?”—is the ultimate rhetorical power move. 

It suggests that the prosecutors at The Hague are actually just fans of Suits who wandered into a courtroom by mistake.

The "Sino ang Teacher Ninyo?" Doctrine

The Senator’s legal theory is elegantly simple:

1. The Premise: If Digong wants it, it is a "Right."

2. The Procedure: If the Prosecution disagrees, they clearly skipped class the day "Advanced Friendship Loyalty" was taught.

3. The Conclusion: The ICC should probably enroll in a crash course at the Robin Padilla School of Law and Stunt Coordination.

One can almost imagine the ICC prosecutors, sitting in their cold, Dutch offices, frantically flipping through the 128 articles of the Rome Statute, only to realize with horror: "Wait, we forgot to consult the 'Basta si Digong' clause! Robin is right! We are all failures!"

The New Global Bar Exam

If the Senator has his way, the qualifications for international prosecutors will undergo a rigorous overhaul. 

Forget the Hague Academy of International Law. The new "Padilla Standards" for being a lawyer would include:

• Requirement 1: Ability to deliver a 5-minute monologue about "loyalty" while staring intensely into a middle-distance camera.

• Requirement 2: A firm belief that the "Law" is a flexible suggestion that can be waived, folded, or ignored depending on who is asking.

• Requirement 3: The capacity to ask "Do you even study?" to anyone who points out a technicality you don't like.

A Humble Suggestion for The Hague

Perhaps the ICC should fly the Senator to the Netherlands.

Not as a witness, but as a Guest Lecturer. He could open the session by slamming a gavel and asking the entire bench if they’ve even watched Sa Diyos Lang Ako Susuko.

After all, why listen to the collective legal wisdom of 124 signatory nations when you have the raw, unbridled intellectual might of a man who knows that the most important law of all is the Law of the Bromance?

Ultimately, we must thank the Senator. He has reminded us that expertise is a myth, and that "studying the law" is nothing compared to the power of a "staunch ally" with a microphone.

 The ICC might have the statutes, but Robin has the vibe. And in 2026, the vibe is always constitutional.