Indonesian Is the Most Important Language to Learn (And Other Lies LinkedIn Told Me)
There exists a rare species of insight that thrives exclusively on LinkedIn. These takes usually begin with “Not a popular opinion, but…” — a phrase now functionally synonymous with “I’m about to say something profoundly unoriginal, but I’ll pretend it’s revolutionary.”
Enter: the latest gem in the pantheon of thoughtfluencer wisdom.
“The most important language to learn today isn’t Mandarin. It’s Indonesian.”
That’s right. Indonesian. Spoken almost exclusively in Indonesia — a country whose economic engine is admirable, growing, and still, statistically, powered by the GDP per capita equivalent of a refurbished 2017 MacBook Air.
This isn’t a hit piece on Bahasa Indonesia. It’s a beautiful, poetic language tied to one of the world’s most vibrant cultures. The people? Ridiculously kind. The landscapes? Out of a postcard. The food? Genuinely spiritual.
But declaring Indonesian as the global language to learn for strategic advancement? That’s not edgy. That’s just someone desperately trying to game the algorithm with a hot take they thought of between yoga and a $9 smoothie in Canggu.
So grab a kopi tubruk and let’s torch the myth — lovingly.
Bahasa Fluency Won’t Get You Into the Boardroom. English Already Did.
Let’s rip the Band-Aid off early: if your plan to dominate Indonesian boardrooms involves dazzling execs with your perfectly pronounced “selamat pagi,” you may want to sit down. Because the real secret to business success in Indonesia isn’t linguistic — it’s logistical. And the logistics of power here run almost entirely in English.
Who’s running the show? CEOs who did their MBAs at Wharton, interns who speak better English than their Western managers, and heirs to sprawling family empires who drop “pivot,” “synergy,” and “omnichannel” into casual conversation like they're ordering coffee.
These aren’t provincial businesspeople hoping a foreigner will show up with a dictionary and a dream. These are globally integrated operators with LinkedIn Premium, an APAC strategy deck, and a cousin working at Goldman Sachs in Singapore.
Learning Indonesian to access this tier is like learning Elvish to work at Amazon. It’s sweet. Endearing, even. But unnecessary — and just a little misguided.
They’ll be impressed for a moment. Maybe even charmed. A polite chuckle, a “Wah, kamu lancar sekali!” And then they’ll go right back to English — because that’s the language of contracts, capital, and quarterly earnings.
The power class in Indonesia doesn’t just speak English — they expect it. Not because they’re pretentious, but because it’s efficient. Everyone at the table already speaks it. Why switch to a language just so you, the foreigner, can prove you’ve spent six months on Duolingo?
This isn’t Bali backpacker bartering. It’s business. And if you’re not speaking English at the table, you’re probably not even invited to the meeting.
Yes, You’ll Be Able to Order Gado-Gado. No, You Won’t Close That Deal.
Let’s get something out of the way: learning Indonesian does have real-world benefits. You’ll feel less like a lost toddler in a supermarket every time you step into a warung. Taxi drivers will like you more. Security guards will smile wider. You might even unlock a rare moment of actual human warmth in an immigration office.
All beautiful, all worthwhile.
But once you step into the business world? That warm, fuzzy glow fades.
You can speak flawless Bahasa Indonesia, order gado-gado like a local, even drop a spicy proverb or two — but you’re still the bule in the meeting. The one with overly polished loafers and a handshake that ignores all unwritten Javanese power dynamics. Fluency won’t hide the fact you weren’t raised in the ecosystem. You didn’t go to high school with their cousin. You don’t know how to read the room when the room is silently deciding everything before the meeting starts.
Because Indonesian business — real business — doesn’t hinge on vocabulary. It hinges on trust, familiarity, and shared signals that have absolutely nothing to do with what language you’re speaking.
And here’s the thing: the people who actually have the power to bring you in? Already speak English. Better than you do. They’ve worked in Sydney, studied in the UK, and casually reference McKinsey & Company slides without flinching. They’re not impressed that you can order nasi campur. They’re impressed that you know how not to talk in a meeting when a bigshot’s uncle is in the room.
Sorry, Duolingo owl — this one’s not a language problem. It’s a social architecture problem.
“But It’s an Easy Language!” Exactly. That’s the Problem.
One of the most common defenses of learning Indonesian — typically uttered by wide-eyed expats clutching their third Bahasa for Beginners workbook — is this:
“But it’s so easy!”
And yes, it is. Gloriously easy. Almost suspiciously so. No verb conjugation, no noun genders, no tones, and a friendly Latin alphabet that doesn’t demand you draw elaborate characters just to say “chicken rice.” It’s practically a linguistic hug.
But here’s the catch: if it’s easy, it’s not exclusive — and if it’s not exclusive, it’s not a strategic flex.
You don’t win points in the professional arena by being able to speak a language that literally anyone with a smartphone and 30 idle hours can pick up. There’s no barrier to entry, no gauntlet to run, no Everest to climb.
Compare that to languages with actual difficulty settings enabled:
Japanese, where just learning the word for “I” requires a whiteboard.
Arabic, where the dialect changes every 50 kilometers.
Russian, where the grammar punishes you like it’s still 1957.
Speaking those languages fluently says something about you: discipline, resilience, maybe even a hint of masochism — all attractive in international business circles.
But speaking Indonesian fluently? That says:
“I did a bit of Duolingo and now I can confidently ask for sambal on the side.”
It’s great for travel. Beautiful for cultural immersion. But as a business differentiator? It’s like showing up to a Formula 1 race in a golf cart and expecting applause because you didn’t hit a tree.
If It’s Really That Important, Why Are You Still Hiring a Translator?
Let’s revisit those LinkedIn posts, shall we? The ones with a drone shot of Ubud rice paddies, a quote from Mandela or Rumi, and a bold claim that “The key to unlocking Southeast Asia is learning Indonesian.”
You know what those people aren’t doing? Running an actual business in Indonesia.
Because if they were, they’d know the truth: no serious executive is burning through their evenings conjugating “pergi” and “makan.” They’re too busy leading teams, managing risk, and making sure their driver remembered to bring the iced Americano without sugar.
Here’s what real business leaders do: they hire bilingual operators. People who grew up switching effortlessly between Bahasa Indonesia and Australian sarcasm. Professionals who not only translate your words, but decode the entire subtext of a meeting — like why everyone suddenly got quiet when the “uncle” joined the Zoom call.
These are the real MVPs. They don’t just bridge language. They bridge culture, context, and the thousand tiny things you’ll never pick up from a textbook or language app.
Because in international business, language is not a test of character. It’s a logistical detail.
So if you genuinely believe that personally learning Indonesian is what’s holding back your business, you may need to update your org chart. Or your life choices. Because what you actually have isn’t a business — it’s a passion project with invoices.
Hiring a translator is not a failure of commitment. It’s called efficiency. Or as we like to say in this part of the world: kerjakan oleh ahlinya — leave it to the experts.
Let’s step back and look at the big picture — beyond the clickbait, beyond the buzzwords, beyond that one dude on LinkedIn who posted a photo of himself in batik with the caption “Immersing myself in the language of opportunity.”
Yes, learning Indonesian is a good idea — if you live here. It makes life smoother, more personal, and occasionally earns you an approving nod from a Grab driver. It helps you feel less like a walking ATM machine and more like someone who actually gives a damn. That’s beautiful.
But let’s not confuse cultural enrichment with global strategy. Learning Indonesian won’t give you access to capital markets. It won’t get you into high-stakes negotiations. It won’t magically transform your LinkedIn profile into a McKinsey case study.
It will, however, let you read the mall parking signs without accidentally walking into the exit. Which is also valuable, just… not quite geopolitical-level valuable.
So by all means, learn Bahasa Indonesia. For the culture, for the connection, for the respect. Just don’t pitch it as the next Mandarin. Because it isn’t. And it doesn’t need to be.