Are Indonesians REALLY Built for Overseas Success?
Indonesia loves the dream of luar negeri, but are we built for it? Discover the truth about what it really takes to work and thrive overseas.
Ask almost any young or mid‑career Indonesian about their future, and sooner or later luar negeri (translation: overseas) slips into the conversation. Cities like London, Sydney, New York, and Tokyo are spoken about with a kind of hopeful certainty, as if simply getting there will solve the messiness of life here.
These places aren’t framed as travel goals. They are painted as escape hatches.
The feed on your phone reinforces it. TikToks of friends drinking flat whites in Melbourne. LinkedIn posts celebrating new jobs in Singapore. Instagram reels of snow in Europe, complete with captions about “new beginnings.” The message lands quietly but clearly: there is more “there” than there is “here.”
Movements like #kaburajadulu (“just escape first”) take that longing and turn it into an ethos. They whisper: go now, figure it out later. Anything must be better than Jakarta traffic, stagnant promotions, or another family dinner interrogation about marriage plans.
But there is a harder question, rarely voiced.
Are Indonesians actually built to succeed overseas?
We often critique foreign companies for failing to adapt here. But if those systems are fundamentally different, shouldn’t we also admit the reverse? What happens when Indonesians discover the foreign systems they dreamed of don’t fit the way they think, talk, or work?
Western Workplaces: Where ‘Nice’ Gets You Noticed, But Not Promoted
Indonesia produces some of the most pleasant professionals in the world. People who know when to step back to keep the peace, who instinctively soften their language to avoid offense, who think about how their words will land before they speak them. These qualities are the social glue of Indonesian workplaces.
But in London, Berlin, or New York, “pleasant” does not always translate into “promotable.”
Deference to bosses? In Indonesia, that’s respect. Overseas, it often looks like you lack initiative or confidence to take the lead.
Conflict avoidance? At home, it keeps offices calm and collegial. Overseas, it can register as a lack of conviction, or indifference.
Indirectness? In Java, it’s good manner. In Australia, it’s miscommunication, because there people will simply say, “I don’t like this idea,” and expect you to do the same.
This isn’t about Indonesians being wrong. It’s about two systems rewarding different things.
In Jakarta, quietly doing your work well and waiting for recognition is a virtue. In London, that same approach is a recipe for being overlooked while someone else talks up their own accomplishments.
That is where many Indonesians abroad find themselves: admired for being “nice,” “collaborative,” “a great team player,” yet somehow always passed over when the big promotion comes around.
Rewiring for Survival: The Adaptation Tax
Indonesians can and do succeed overseas.. But they rarely succeed by simply exporting the exact same behaviors that made them effective in Indonesia. Respectfulness, patience and harmony-seeking are invaluable at home, yet they don’t always carry the same weight abroad.
To thrive, many Indonesians face something far more demanding than learning a few new habits. They have to rewire.
That rewiring can feel unnatural.
It starts with learning to say “no” plainly, without cushioning it in layers of apologies or endless qualifiers.
It means speaking up in meetings, even interrupting, because waiting patiently for the perfect moment to share an idea often means the moment never comes.
It means talking about your own achievements, sometimes loudly enough to feel awkward, because in many places, silence is taken as invisibility.
This is cultural heavy lifting.
The very instincts that brought you success in Indonesia may need to be muted or flipped. The impulse to avoid conflict becomes a liability when healthy debate is expected. The instinct to defer to authority can come across as a lack of initiative.
Some Indonesians master this code switching. They add assertiveness without losing empathy. They keep their sense of harmony but develop a tolerance for healthy, even productive, conflict.
Others struggle. They cling too tightly to the familiar and stall. Or they overcorrect, shedding politeness so aggressively they stop recognising themselves.
Thriving overseas is about unlearning parts of yourself, at least in the professional context. That is the adaptation tax. And for many, it can be more expensive, more exhausting, and more identity bending than they imagined when they booked that one way ticket.
The Overseas Dream vs. The Overseas Ladder
Here’s what you won’t find under the Instagram posts or TikToks tagged #kaburajadulu.
Back home, you might be a manager in Jakarta. You have a small team, a car, and people calling you “Pak” or “Bu” with a tone that signals respect and recognition. You are established, at least in a way that feels tangible.
Overseas? That weight doesn’t come with you. You might suddenly find yourself “the overqualified junior staffer,” the one drafting reports for someone named Liam who shows up to work in hoodies and says “bro” during presentations. The sudden shift from decision-maker to note-taker is the reality of how migration works.
The career ladder resets.
It is not driven by malice. It is structural.. Qualifications don’t always translate neatly, no matter how legitimate they are. Local experience almost always trumps foreign experience. And every country, consciously or not, assumes its own citizens “get it” better.
And here’s the part few expect. The locals are not thriving either. Western Millennials and Gen Z openly complain that their own ladders are broken. They are stuck in gig work, priced out of housing, and worn down by disillusionment.
So when you start in these systems, you are stepping onto the lower half of a ladder that many locals already think doesn’t lead anywhere. That is something the Instagram posts don’t show.
What If Indonesians Aren’t Automatically Built for This?
It has become almost a national sport to point out how foreign companies “don’t understand Indonesia.” And often, they really don’t. They bring in their radical candor, flat org charts and relentless feedback workshops. They think these are virtues, only to discover that their “best practices” crash headfirst into an entirely different cultural code.
That criticism is fair. But if we are willing to say it in one direction, we have to be brave enough to flip the question around.
Are we really expecting Indonesians to walk into those same foreign systems and instantly thrive, without hitting the same wall in reverse?
Western workplaces run on a different kind of fuel.
Directness is considered a virtue.
Individualism is baked into everything from promotions to performance reviews.
Blunt feedback is given without apology.
Constant self-promotion is not seen as bragging but as “taking ownership.”
Indonesia runs on harmony, collectivism, deference and indirectness. This is the framework of how people think and work.
If foreign companies must adapt to survive in Jakarta, then Indonesians heading abroad need to accept they will have to adapt just as deeply. It will not be enough to pick up a few new habits like being more “assertive” in meetings. It means reshaping how you show up entirely.
That reshaping isn’t easy. It is not always fun. And it is certainly not free. It comes with effort, discomfort, and the risk of losing a little of the self that made you successful in the first place.
Are Indonesians built for overseas success?
The answer is yes, but not automatically. Indonesians grow up with qualities any country should value: empathy, patience, diplomacy, and a sense of community. These traits make for good colleagues and strong teams. The problem is that while the world claims to want these qualities, it doesn’t always reward them.
To thrive overseas, Indonesians must do more than book a ticket and clear immigration. They have to consciously repack their cultural toolkit. The empathy, patience, and harmony can stay, but some habits need adjusting.
This is possible. Plenty of Indonesians have made it work. But they did it with a level of cultural agility that goes far beyond what people imagine when they scroll past a #kaburajadulu post.
The grass overseas can look greener, but much of the time you will be mowing it for someone else. And sometimes, that someone else doesn’t even know how to pronounce your name.
At StratEx - Indonesia Business Advisory we help Indonesian professionals and companies build the cultural awareness and confidence needed to thrive internationally. Contact us if you're interested in training, coaching, and advisory support.