The Fourth Plate

By John Vincent Gastanes

While many young people dream of their first car, a high-rise condo in the city, or the latest gadget to mark success, my aspirations were always shaped by something different.

I wasn’t raised with much but what I did have was clarity: I wanted to build something bigger than myself. I wanted to create systems that outlive applause, projects that serve the underserved, and platforms that empower communities long ignored.

I was raised by my grandma, a woman who sold fish in the local market. She was a pillar of quiet strength and perseverance. Alongside her was my uncle a former fishery boy who worked his way up to become a lawyer defending the poor. He passed away some time ago, but his legacy continues to fuel my mission. They weren’t just family. They were the first social entrepreneurs I ever knew.

As a meningitis survivor, life reminded me early on how fleeting it can be but also how meaningful it can become when used with purpose. My journey has always been about fighting for that meaning. It’s not just about starting a business or launching a campaign. It’s about building movements that are rooted in people, powered by faith, and designed for long-term transformation.

Years ago, I co-founded Project Zacchaeusb, a tech company built around one idea: to make poverty eradication industrial. We wanted to equip farmers and fisherfolk with the digital tools, market access, and data they deserved tools often reserved for large-scale corporations.

We sought to level the playing field by connecting grassroots producers to supply chains, financiers, and policy networks. What began as a social enterprise in Palawan eventually caught national and international attention. We were humbled to be recognized by both public and private sectors as one of the pioneers of digital inclusion in agriculture.

Though I’ve since transitioned from day-to-day operations at PZC, I continue to serve as part of the project lead for a broader vision developing an agro-industrial zone in Palawan that integrates climate resilience, smart farming technologies, logistics development, and trade cooperation with ASEAN neighbors through the BIMP-EAGA (Brunei Darussalam-Indonesia-Malaysia-Philippines East ASEAN Growth Area).

This work involves more than infrastructure. It’s about laying the groundwork for sustainable livelihoods. With the local government of Narra, we are now collaborating with Brunei-based partners such as Raybase Sdn Bhd to implement contract farming initiatives, trial and scale nano-urea and organic fertilizers, and facilitate technology transfer from Brunei to Philippine farms. One of our goals is to minimize the dependency of Filipino farmers on imported inputs while promoting regenerative agriculture adapted to our climate.

In fact, our town Narra, Palawan, serves as the rice and food capital of the province. Yet many of our farmers still struggle to make ends meet due to lack of post-harvest infrastructure, low market prices, and limited access to finance. With climate change altering rainfall patterns and increasing the frequency of typhoons, the agricultural backbone of our region is under constant threat.

This is why the agro-industrial zone we’re developing isn’t just a local initiative. It’s a climate action strategy. We are designing decentralized cold storage systems powered by renewable energy, piloting traceable farm-to-fork platforms, and aligning with the Philippine Department of Agriculture’s PRDP Scale-Up program. Through our advocacy, we’re integrating carbon credit schemes into our value chains so that smallholder farmers can benefit from their own ecological stewardship.

But beyond all the technical terms, the truth is simple: I came back to Narra not as a founder chasing the next milestone, but as a son of this land – someone who wants to see his people rise.

When I was named one of Tatler Philippines’ Gen.T Leaders of Tomorrow, it wasn’t just an honor. It was a call to recommit. It meant that stories like ours born from provincial dirt roads, market stalls, and humble kitchens could now be part of the global conversation. It meant that young leaders don’t need to choose between the city and the countryside, between ambition and compassion. We can choose both. We can choose to build.

I’ve entrusted our company to my brilliant co-founders – leaders who continue to scale FK’s platform across regions so that I can focus on helping our town transition from a food-producing municipality to an innovation and trade hub. Through partnerships with Brunei, Malaysia, and Indonesia, we’re paving roads not just with cement, but with collaboration, vision, and dignity.

What we are doing in Narra may seem small in the global scheme, but it represents something powerful: hope in action. A grassroots-led transformation. A climate-resilient future built from the margins, not imposed from the top.

So, if you’re reading this, and you’re someone with a similar calling, let me tell you this: Don’t be afraid to return to your roots. Sometimes the future we’re called to build isn’t in the high-rise skyline. Sometimes it’s in the quiet fields of home, waiting for someone brave enough to believe again.

Because the next generation of leaders isn’t just rising from boardrooms they’re rising from rice paddies, coastal villages, and community halls. And they’re not just leading with profit, they’re leading with purpose.