In 2018, Boracay was shut down for six months after being labelled a “cesspool,” and tourist arrivals plummeted from 2,001,974 to 941,868 that year. That collapse cost the local government of Malay an estimated 21.1 percent of its revenue, a direct consequence of environmental degradation that had been years in the making. For anyone planning a trip to the island or following its recovery, the numbers make one thing clear: the line between a thriving tourism economy and a broken one is thinner than most visitors realise.
The tension playing out now is not new. A recent meeting between Interior Secretary Jonvic Remulla, Tourism Secretary Christina Frasco, and local officials reportedly turned tense over a two-week ultimatum: reduce or suspend fees for island hopping, picnicking, and snorkeling, or face intervention. Malay Mayor Frolibar Bautista pushed back, citing revenue loss and its impact on public services. Aklan Governor Joen Miraflores, meanwhile, signalled willingness to cut fees immediately. The disagreement captures a recurring dilemma — how do you keep Boracay accessible without repeating the mistakes that led to its 2018 closure? The impact of tourism on coastal pollution in the Philippines is a well-documented pattern, and Boracay sits at its most visible flashpoint.
What the Carrying Capacity Debate Actually Means
The core issue is not whether Boracay is popular — it clearly is, with two million arrivals in 2023 exceeding the Department of Tourism’s 1.8 million target. The question is whether the island’s infrastructure and ecosystem can sustain that level of use. The 2018 study by UP Los Baños and the Ecosystems Research and Development Bureau determined that Boracay can sustainably accommodate only 54,945 people daily, including residents and workers. Of that, just 19,215 are tourists. As the ICE report explains, capping tourists at that number means only about 6,000 arrivals per day, assuming a three-day average stay.
What makes this particularly difficult is that the 1997 Ecoplan International study, commissioned by the Department of Tourism and other agencies, reached similar conclusions. Those recommendations were largely ignored, and the environmental crisis that followed forced the 2018 shutdown. The pattern is not hypothetical — it has already played out once.
The Economic Shock of Environmental Collapse
The 2018 closure was not just an environmental event; it was an economic one. Tourist arrivals dropped by more than half, and the municipality of Malay saw its revenue from taxes, services, and business income fall to PHP 442 million from PHP 561 million the year before. The ICE report notes that the economic costs of ignoring environmental considerations are substantial, pointing to the billions of pesos foregone during the six-month shutdown.
Then came the pandemic. Tourist numbers declined by 83.8 percent compared to 2019 levels, and local revenues fell by 29.8 percent in 2020 and another 28.3 percent in 2021. It was not until 2023 that both tourism numbers and local government finances finally surpassed their 2017 highs. That recovery, however, came with its own complications — two million arrivals exceeded the target, and the toxic legacy of pollution in the Philippines is a reminder that rapid tourism growth often outpaces waste management capacity.
The recent decision by Philippine Airlines to discontinue Manila-Kalibo flights is another signal. The ICE report calls it a “clear red flag” of uneven economic development in the region. If the gateway airport loses service, the pressure on Caticlan — and by extension Boracay’s carrying capacity — only intensifies.
What Gets Missed in the Fee Debate
Most of the public discussion around Boracay’s fees focuses on convenience. Tourists complain about the long queue at the Caticlan Jetty Port, where three separate booths process payments: a PHP 50 boat fee, a terminal fee of PHP 120 for local and PHP 150 for foreign tourists, and an environmental fee of PHP 120 for local and PHP 150 for foreign tourists. Each booth takes roughly 10 to 15 minutes. Visitors have suggested consolidating them into a single booth to save time.
That frustration is understandable, but it misses a larger point. The ICE researchers argue that fees and similar regulatory levies have the effect of making it more expensive to visit Boracay, which helps deter the influx of people testing the island’s carrying capacity. Removing them without a replacement mechanism would remove one of the few tools local government has to manage visitor numbers.
Another overlooked issue is the absence of public restrooms. Visitors have noted that the only public toilet available is in a mall, costing PHP 10 per person. Former Department of Tourism Secretary Berna Romulo-Puyat said in 2021 that public toilets are crucial for tourism — they should be clean, safe, and comfortable, and can make or break a travel experience. It is a small detail, but it reflects a broader pattern: infrastructure has not kept pace with visitor numbers.
Then there is the growing number of peddlers on the beachfront who openly approach tourists to sell wares. While not a sustainability issue in the environmental sense, it contributes to the sense that the visitor experience is eroding. A local tourist was overheard saying, “Mapag-iiwanan kayo ng ibang island, murang puntahan, mas maganda ang area” — you will be left behind by other islands that are cheaper and have better areas.
→ Scroll right to see all columns
| Year | Tourist Arrivals | Malay Revenue (PHP) | Key Event |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2017 | 2,001,974 | 561 million | Pre-closure peak |
| 2018 | 941,868 | 442 million | Six-month shutdown |
| 2020 | Decline of 83.8% vs 2019 | Drop of 29.8% | COVID-19 pandemic |
| 2023 | 2,000,000+ | Surpassed 2017 high | Full recovery |
What Can Be Done — and What Is Already Underway
The ICE report recommends that the national government focus on developing alternative tourism destinations to reduce pressure on Boracay. They cite international examples of destinations damaged by overtourism, including Santorini in Greece, Maya Bay in Thailand, Bondi Beach in Australia, and Kuta Beach in Bali. Both Boracay and El Nido already appear on lists of beaches threatened by overtourism, which suggests the problem is not isolated.
Developing Alternative Destinations
Spreading tourist traffic across multiple sites is the most straightforward way to relieve pressure on a single location. The Department of Tourism has promoted lesser-known islands and provinces, but the gap in infrastructure, accommodation, and international flight access remains wide. Without equivalent investment in alternatives, Boracay will continue to absorb the majority of demand. The ICE researchers argue that this is a national government responsibility, not something local governments can solve alone.
Maintaining Fee Structures as a Management Tool
Fees are not just revenue generators — they are regulatory mechanisms. The current structure, while inconvenient, gives Malay a way to influence visitor volume. Removing or reducing fees without a replacement would remove that lever. The municipality has already achieved revenue levels that can support equitable development without increasing tourist numbers, which suggests the current balance is workable if it can be maintained.
Addressing Infrastructure Gaps
The lack of public restrooms, the long processing times at the jetty port, and the unregulated beachfront vending are all symptoms of infrastructure that has not scaled with demand. These are fixable, but they require investment and coordination between the municipal government, the provincial government, and the national tourism agencies. The insights from Philippine communities combatting pollution show that local action, when properly supported, can produce measurable improvements.
Learning from the 2018 Closure
The ICE report concludes with a stark warning: “If we ignore lessons from the past, we may just end up killing the goose that lays the golden egg.” The 2018 closure cost billions in foregone revenue. The pandemic added another layer of economic pain. Both events demonstrated that environmental degradation and external shocks can wipe out years of growth in months. The question is whether the current recovery will be managed differently from the pre-2018 boom.
Frequently Asked Questions
Why can’t Boracay just accept more tourists? ▾
Are the fees at Caticlan Jetty Port going to be removed? ▾
Has Boracay fully recovered from the pandemic? ▾
What other destinations face similar overtourism threats? ▾
Is there a plan to develop alternative tourist destinations? ▾
Balancing Access and Protection
The Boracay story is not unique, but it is instructive. The island has already survived one collapse and one pandemic. The recovery has been remarkable, but it has also brought back the same pressures that caused the first crisis. The decisions made in the coming months — about fees, infrastructure, and alternative destinations — will determine whether Boracay’s second act looks different from its first. If this was useful, you might also want to read how organisations are working toward a sustainable future in the Philippines.
Sources
Tourism’s impact on coastal pollution in the Philippines — Explores how tourism development affects marine ecosystems and what communities are doing about it.
Philippine garbage: a pit too deep — Examines the country’s waste management challenges, relevant to Boracay’s capacity to handle tourist-generated trash.
Boracay tourist fees spark new sustainability debate. Daily Guardian / Institute of Contemporary Economics, 2024.
Boracay’s inconvenient truth. BusinessMirror, July 2024.
