Tondo boy, grease-stained hands, cheap wrench in one pocket.
Fast forward a few decades, and he’s the boss of San Miguel Corporation—beer money turned trillion-peso empire.
Ramon See Ang’s climb isn’t some fairy tale. It’s part grit, part luck, and a whole lot of timing.
From fixing busted engines to selling wheels to Danding
Born in 1954 to a Filipino-Chinese family in Tondo, Ang wasn’t born with a silver spoon—more like a rusty lug wrench. He grew up in his father’s auto repair shop, earned his mechanical engineering degree at FEU, and hustled selling Japanese car parts on Abad Santos.
One sale changed his life. He sold aluminum wheels to Eduardo “Danding” Cojuangco Jr., a man who didn’t just run companies—he ran entire industries. They bonded over cars, and suddenly, Ang wasn’t just a mechanic. He was a player with a patron.
Loyalty bought him the keys to San Miguel
When Cojuangco fled during the ’86 revolution, Ang babysat his cement business. That kind of loyalty is priceless in a country where allies change faster than mayors switch political parties.
By 1987, he was a management trainee at San Miguel. By 1999, he was running it as president and COO. When Cojuangco died in 2020, Ang officially took the throne as chairman and CEO of San Miguel, with an empire to his name.
From beer to power plants, tollways, and airports
San Miguel used to be a brewer. Ang made it a monster. He expanded into cement, fuel, power, food, oil, tollways, and airports. Investors mocked him at first. Now the company makes over a trillion pesos a year.
He built the Skyway, STAR Tollway, MRT-7, and SLEX expansions. He’s also putting up the $15-billion Bulacan Airport, aiming to turn swampland into an economic hub.
Add in NAIA rehab through his New NAIA Infra Corp, and suddenly, he’s running the country’s air travel too.
Critics say his flood projects double as cheap landfill sourcing. Free dredging, but the mud magically ends up at his construction sites. Ang’s people call it public service. Others call it convenient.
His image got polished with philanthropy
Ang knows how to play the “benevolent billionaire” card. During the pandemic, San Miguel poured ₱14.8 billion into food drives, alcohol-turned-disinfectant, and medical gear. He waived tolls for frontliners. He even bought carabao milk to feed poor families.
Beyond crisis mode, he pledged ₱500 million to build schools and threw ₱3 billion at river cleanups. Add Forbes’ “Hero of Philanthropy” badge and the French Legion of Honor, and you’ve got a tycoon with receipts.
The empire’s next in line is already inside the boardroom
Ang has eight kids. His son John Paul now runs San Miguel as president and COO, backing up his father’s empire-sized ambitions. His daughters handle cement, finance, and hotels. The next generation is in position, though Ang still calls the shots at 71.
His climb mirrors the country’s growing pains
Ramon Ang didn’t just diversify San Miguel.
He rewired what it means to be a Filipino conglomerate. Beer money became power plants. Cement money became highways. And a mechanic’s hustle became an empire with over a trillion pesos in annual revenue.
From oil-stained hands to oil pipelines, from a car shop in Tondo to airports and tollways, Ang’s life isn’t some rags-to-riches cliché. It’s a reminder that in the Philippines, one deal, one mentor, one wheel sold to the right guy, can change your whole trajectory.
