Indonesia vs. Technical Execution: A Love Story That Never Was
Indonesia is a fascinating place. A country where infrastructure projects somehow get completed despite five layers of redundant approvals, and where tech startups claim to be “revolutionizing industries” by copy-pasting foreign business models with a slight name tweak and a batik-patterned logo. It’s a land where marketing is king, execution is an afterthought, and the phrase “nanti dulu” (let’s do it later) is an acceptable project timeline.
For the uninitiated, technical execution is that elusive skill where things actually get done. Correctly, efficiently, and without a series of last-minute miracles. It’s what separates a nation with bullet trains from one where a simple overpass project becomes a multi-generational saga. It’s why some businesses expand globally while others can’t even get their own website to load. Execution isn’t just about ideas; it’s about making sure those ideas don’t crumble... literally, in the case of certain roads and bridges.
Indonesia has plenty of strengths. We’re survivors, improvisers, and experts at making things work, just not always the way they were originally intended. If there’s one thing we do better than execution, it’s adaptation. The problem? Constant adaptation is a symptom of bad execution. And yet, instead of fixing the root cause, we just slap on another workaround and call it a day.
So, is this just who we are? Or can we finally break the cycle?
The Workforce Conundrum: "Graduated with Honors, Can't Execute a Task"
If you’ve ever had the pleasure of hiring in Indonesia, you’ll be familiar with the phenomenon of the overqualified, underperforming employee. Their resume is immaculate, their university degree prestigious, and their Instagram bio screams "passionate about innovation". But give them an actual task, and suddenly, you're watching a live-action experiment in how quickly enthusiasm can disintegrate into confusion.
So how did we get here? Simple: our education system doesn’t teach people how to execute, just how to pass tests. Schools churn out students who can memorize periodic tables and cite legal codes, but ask them to troubleshoot a problem in real-time, and they stare at you like you just asked them to solve a crime in Morse code. The university system encourages intellectual posturing but not practical skill-building. It’s not that graduates are unintelligent; it’s that they’ve been conditioned to believe knowing something is the same as being able to do something.
And let's talk about the national pastime of looking down on vocational training. While countries like Germany have figured out that skilled execution = economic strength, Indonesia still treats vocational education (SMK schools, apprenticeships, actual hands-on training) as a glorified consolation prize for those who "didn’t make it" into university. The result? An economy overflowing with people who can discuss execution but not actually execute.
But let’s not blame the workers. Even the competent ones are often trapped in corporate structures designed to punish efficiency. You want to streamline a process? Cut waste? Reduce inefficiencies? Good luck. You'll probably end up in a two-hour meeting where everyone agrees with you, only for nothing to change. Here, execution isn’t about getting things done; it’s about making sure no one gets blamed when they don’t.
And so, the cycle continues: Indonesia remains a land where degrees are abundant, but execution is an endangered species. Wouldn’t it be nice if we produced builders instead of just talkers?
Business & Industry: "Why Aim for Excellence When ‘Asal Jadi’ Works Just Fine?"
Indonesia’s favorite approach to execution can be summed up in two words: asal jadi. A phrase that technically means “just get it done” but in practice translates to “make it look finished, but let’s not get carried away with quality”.
That bridge? It’s standing. Whether it continues standing is between God and the next rainy season.
That app? It opens... eventually. Sometimes. If you restart your phone three times.
That company’s five-year expansion plan? It was written on a PowerPoint, so technically, it exists. Please don’t ask for follow-ups.
The asal jadi philosophy is the backbone of many industries, where speed beats sustainability, cheap beats quality, and networking beats actual competence. It’s why businesses prioritize launching something (read: anything) rather than making sure it actually works. Why fix problems when you can just explain them away in a shareholder meeting?
Even the big corporations aren’t immune.
Ever wonder why infrastructure projects take longer to complete than the entire lifespan of some small businesses?
Why do startups spend more time getting media coverage than perfecting their product?
Why do half-finished construction sites litter Jakarta like urban fossils?
Simple: execution is a PR exercise, not a process. If it looks like progress, that’s good enough.
Of course, we can’t place all the blame on businesses. Bureaucracy is an execution graveyard. Want to launch a simple project? Be prepared to submit the same paperwork to five different agencies, watch it mysteriously disappear twice, and then pay a “processing fee” to speed things up. If execution weren’t this exhausting, we might actually see more of it.
So, can we really blame companies for choosing “good enough” over “well-executed”? If the system rewards mediocrity, why fight it? After all, asal jadi does work, until it doesn’t. But by then, there’s always a new project (and a new budget) to start the cycle all over again.
Infrastructure & Governance: "We’ll Get There When We Get There"
There are certain universal truths in life: the sun rises in the east, gravity keeps us grounded, and Indonesian infrastructure projects will never, ever be completed on time. If you’ve lived here long enough, you’ve probably witnessed the national art form known as the infinite construction cycle, where roads, bridges, and train stations exist in a quantum state of almost finished for years on end.
Completion deadlines? A gentle suggestion.
Project budgets? A rough estimate (subject to tripling).
Quality control? Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
The script is always the same: a grand announcement, flashy renderings of futuristic highways, a groundbreaking ceremony with VIPs posing with shovels, and then… silence. Months go by. Sometimes years. The site remains untouched, the workers disappear, and eventually, someone puts up a “Mohon Bersabar, Proyek Sedang Berlangsung” sign as if that alone will magically complete the job.
But let’s not be too cynical because things do get built. Eventually. Sort of. But often in ways that defy logic.
Why does a newly built road already need patchwork repairs?
Why do world-class skyscrapers spring up in neighborhoods that don’t even have sidewalks?
Why do pedestrian bridges appear in places no pedestrian has ever walked?
It all circles back to the creative reinterpretation of technical execution.
Deadlines? They’re suggestions.
Budgets? They stretch in mysterious ways (often into the pockets of distant relatives).
Quality control? A fun concept, but let’s not get carried away.
Progress is happening. the infrastructure push has led to some visible improvements. Toll roads do exist now where they didn’t before, and Jakarta finally has a functioning MRT (even if it took decades of political ping-pong to happen). But fixing execution culture takes generations. Until then, expect the next “national strategic project” to be completed sometime in the future. When? We’ll get there when we get there.
Why It Matters (And Why You Should Care, Even If You Don’t Run a Business)
"Alright," you might say, "so Indonesia isn’t great at execution. So what? Things still get done eventually."
Yes, but at what cost? Eventually is an expensive word. A lack of strong technical execution is an anchor that can drag down the economy, job market, and overall progress of a country. It affects everyone, from business owners to ordinary citizens who just want to walk on a sidewalk that doesn’t suddenly disappear into traffic.
Let’s break it down:
1. Fewer High-Value Jobs
Want a high-paying, skilled job in Indonesia? Good luck. In countries with strong execution cultures, industries create sustainable, high-value careers because things are built to last. Here? The job market leans heavily on low-skill, low-wage labor because businesses would rather “get it done” cheaply than “get it done right.” So instead of an ecosystem of engineers, product managers, and skilled craftsmen, we get… more customer service roles apologizing for why something doesn’t work.
2. Innovation Gets Stuck in Limbo
Indonesia loves a good startup story, just as long as it involves fundraising announcements, not product rollouts. How many promising ideas die in development because teams can’t execute? Meanwhile, Singapore, Vietnam, and even Malaysia quietly outpace us in turning ideas into reality. But at least we have great branding and influencer campaigns.
3. Wasted Resources
Ever seen a freshly paved road dug up the very next month for maintenance? That’s Indonesia in a nutshell. Poor execution means redoing things unnecessarily, and since efficiency isn’t a priority, we end up spending more in the long run. Money disappears into the void, projects stall, and eventually, we just learn to live with half-finished infrastructure.
4. Brain Drain
The real technical executors? They leave. Ask any skilled professional why they moved to Singapore, and you’ll hear the same answer: “Because over there, things actually work.” And so, instead of fixing execution, we export our best talent and import more consultants to tell us why we can’t execute.
So while we joke about the absurdity of it all, this is a real problem. And unless execution culture changes, Indonesia will remain in a constant cycle of almost great but not quite.
So what now? Do we just accept this? Of course not. But before we get all "let's fix this now", let’s at least be honest with ourselves. Indonesia’s execution problem isn’t about a lack of talent because we have plenty of smart, capable people. The issue runs deeper. It’s systemic, cultural, and baked into the way things have always been done.
Fixing it isn’t about more workshops, motivational speeches, or LinkedIn posts about “transformational leadership”. It requires actual change:
Rethinking education – Less memorization, more problem-solving. We don’t need more people who can recite entire textbooks; we need people who can apply knowledge in real life.
Valuing execution as much as innovation – Because, shockingly, an idea is worthless if it never materializes. Disrupting industries isn’t about talking, it’s about doing.
Making businesses prioritize quality over quick wins – Sustainable growth comes from long-term thinking, not slapping together a barely functioning product and calling it “good enough.”
Holding industries accountable – If mediocrity is constantly rewarded, why would anyone aim higher?
Indonesia is struggling because we don’t execute well enough. And until we fix that? Well… at least we’ll always have great beaches to visit while waiting for that infrastructure project to finally get finished.
Final Thought: A Call to Action
If you’re one of the rare Indonesians who actually values technical execution, congratulations! You are a unicorn. A national treasure. And probably frustrated on a daily basis.
But instead of fleeing to Singapore (tempting, I know), maybe it’s time to start changing things from within. One well-executed project at a time.
Or, we could just wait for another committee to figure it out. I’m sure they’ll have an answer real soon.