Puerto Rico's Governance Is Not a Fashion Runway

Arnaldo Ortiz-Miranda / Source: El Vocero

I’m a broke guy living on disability, yet I don’t leave an eye exam with just one pair of glasses. I own three. Not to show off, but because I understand context. I dress differently for home, community, or social events. I know how I present myself shapes how others perceive me.

I don’t do it to impress anyone. I do it out of awareness. Perhaps I picked that up after living more than a decade in Massachusetts, a place far from perfect, but where the political culture still expects public officials to act, speak, and even appear as if they take their jobs seriously.

Here, politicians don’t dress like fashion influencers at press conferences. You won’t see oversized designer eyeglasses or reality TV poses when discussing retirement systems. Even the ones I dislike usually try to project a professional image. They understand that public service demands a particular kind of presence.

That’s why I was shocked when I saw Arnaldo Ortiz-Miranda, the Executive Director of Puerto Rico’s Retirement Board, speaking to the media wearing what looked more like a red-carpet outfit than a government uniform. He didn’t make a style mistake. He made a choice.

He didn’t just wear flashy glasses; he wore them while speaking to a country in crisis. That choice revealed a deeper issue: he doesn’t seem to connect his image to his public duty.

Ortiz-Miranda doesn’t perform on a TV show. He doesn’t host a beauty pageant. He doesn’t walk runways. He runs a public agency that manages pensions for thousands of elderly Puerto Ricans, many of whom live in extreme poverty. Still, he projects ego, theatricality, and institutional narcissism.

He’s not the exception. He reflects a broader problem. In Puerto Rico, politicians have transformed public service into a form of performance art. They strike poses, repeat slogans, and build hype, even when they have nothing real to say. Substance no longer matters. Spectacle does.

In places like Massachusetts, officials face pressure to deliver ideas, back them with data, and act with restraint. The state doesn't produce saints, but constituents expect seriousness. Voters often punish flamboyance or showboating. In Puerto Rico, it’s the opposite.

There, the loudest voices rise fastest. The flashiest outfits tend to receive the most attention. I wouldn’t be surprised if some employers in Puerto Rico still hire people because their résumé looks good, not because they know what they’re doing.

That’s why I’ll say it plainly: I don’t care about Ortiz-Miranda’s white glasses, but that he wore them while speaking on behalf of a struggling government. I care that a public official can’t read the fiscal constraining moment Puerto Rico is living in. I care that he chose to showcase his style instead of honoring the weight of his role.

Puerto Ricans are intelligent, talented, and dignified. However, when a society begins to confuse appearance with quality, we end up with leadership that’s glittery on the outside but rotten at the core.

And if someone tells me I shouldn’t speak on Puerto Rico because I left, let me be clear: the government pushed us out. Nobody leaves the place they love unless they have no choice.