Let’s Make a New Year’s Resolution, Indonesia: To Hire Based on Merit, Not… Everything Else
January is the month where gyms are teeming, calorie counters are trending, and everyone’s LinkedIn suddenly has posts about "new year, new goals." It’s peak self-improvement season. But while individuals are busy transforming into the best versions of themselves, can we take a moment to ask: what about our workplaces?
Yes, Indonesia, I’m looking at you. Let’s have an honest conversation about our hiring practices, which are clinging to outdated habits, blissfully unaware of how cringeworthy they’ve become... a little like that one uncle at family gatherings. We talk about valuing "merit" and "talent," but let’s not kid ourselves. Underneath the surface lies a hiring philosophy that’s a mix of “Who do you know?” and “Can you promise not to need maternity leave this decade?”
So, here’s an idea for 2025: let’s give our hiring process the same energy we give our New Year’s fitness plans. Let’s ditch the nepotism, the age bias, and the casual ghosting.
Is it bold? Yes.
Long overdue? Absolutely.
Will it be fun to talk about? Always.
Qualifications Are for Losers—Tell Me Who Your Uncle Is
In Indonesia, “merit-based hiring” often feels like a nice theory, like clean eating or owning a full set of Tupperware lids. Why bother slogging through years of school, perfecting your CV, and practicing your elevator pitch when a single WhatsApp message to Pak Bambang can secure you the job? Nepotism here isn’t just a problem; it’s practically a cultural institution.
Forget LinkedIn; the real job market operates in covert coffee chats at warungs and exclusive WhatsApp groups named things like "Opportunities Only (No Strangers)." And if you don’t already have the group link, well, good luck! Meanwhile, the anak boss phenomenon reigns supreme. Did you spend years studying abroad and collecting certifications? Nice! But, all that pales in comparison to being the boss’s second cousin who once interned at a place that sounds like McKinsey.
The pinnacle of Indonesian networking might just be the luxury Alphard. Because the backseat of that black, tinted chariot hosts more career deals than any corporate boardroom. It’s where decisions are made, alliances are forged, and your carefully written cover letter becomes an irrelevant PDF attachment.
Yes, networking is valuable everywhere, but here it feels like your diploma is just set dressing. So, unless your CV includes "descendant of someone important," the hiring process might feel less like a meritocracy and more like an exclusive club you weren’t invited to join.
We Need Someone Qualified, But Only If They're Young, Cute, and Cheap
Imagine you’re scrolling job boards, excitedly clicking on a role that screams “perfect fit.” Then, you hit the fine print: “Applicants must be under 27, single, attractive, and prepared to survive on a salary that’s just enough to fund one Bubble Tea a day.” Somewhere, meritocracy is sobbing quietly into its job portal algorithms.
In Indonesia, job requirements can feel less like criteria for professionals and more like casting calls for a soap opera. Ageism is baked into the system, and it’s not subtle. Are you over 30? Sorry, you’ve apparently passed the national expiration date for “innovation” and “energy.” It’s as if hiring managers believe anyone older is incapable of operating a Google Sheet without assistance or might need an afternoon nap halfway through replying to emails.
And it doesn’t stop there. Appearance-based hiring? Oh, it’s alive and thriving. Forget your degree or skills; do you have the right “look”? We’re talking the kind of “professional photogenic” that makes recruiters swoon over your profile picture. No picture? You’re already 50% less employable. Tough luck.
But why this obsession with youth? Well, fresh graduates are easier to underpay and overwork. They haven’t yet discovered the art of saying, “Actually, this salary is laughable,” or the magic phrase, “You want me to do how many jobs for the price of one?”
So, while older candidates bring experience, wisdom, and efficiency, companies are busy chasing fresh-faced 20-somethings they can mold (read: exploit) without much pushback. It’s like we’re all stuck in some national reality show titled “Indonesia’s Next Top Employee.”
Cultural Fit? More Like Psychological Gymnastics
Job interviews are where candidates demonstrate their skills, share their accomplishments, and prove their worth. Or so we thought. In Indonesia, interviews are less about showcasing talent and more about surviving a game of personal life trivia.
“Are you married?” No? That’s a red flag. What if you get distracted chasing romance? Yes? Well, when’s the baby coming? And then there’s the wildcard: “What’s your zodiac sign?” Because apparently, the alignment of celestial bodies is as crucial to teamwork as your Excel skills.
These are unofficial screening questions. The goal is to figure out if you can fit snugly into the cultural jigsaw puzzle of conformity. "Cultural fit," in this context, often means “obedient and agreeable.” Got a bold new idea? Keep it under wraps. In a workplace obsessed with harmony, rocking the boat isn’t innovation; it’s mutiny.
And then there’s the infamous “kita keluarga di sini” mantra. It sounds warm, fuzzy, and inviting until you realize it’s code for guilt-driven labor. “We’re family” conveniently translates to “You’ll cancel dinner plans for unpaid overtime, won’t you? Keluarga doesn’t complain about working weekends.”
The unspoken rule? Smile, nod, and laugh politely when your boss makes a bad joke. In this game of psychological gymnastics, “cultural fit” is about being a perfect cog in a machine that runs on collective silence. Welcome to the family. Hope you packed your emotional stamina.
Ghosting: Not Just for Dating Anymore
If the Indonesian hiring process were a horror movie, it wouldn’t feature haunted houses or creepy clowns. No, the real terror lies in your inbox.
Here’s how it goes: You apply for a job and nail the interview. The recruiter smiles and says, “We’ll get back to you soon!” You walk out, hopeful. Then, silence. Days turn into weeks, and your inbox remains a digital graveyard.
Did they lose your resume?
Change their hiring plans?
Get abducted by aliens?
You’ll never know, because asking for closure apparently violates some unwritten rule.
And the mystery doesn’t end once you’re hired. Those “flexible duties” in the job description? Translation: everything under the sun. You thought you’d be designing PowerPoints? Surprise! You’re also now the unofficial IT support, office snack coordinator, and occasional personal assistant to the boss’s third cousin. Clarity? That’s a luxury reserved for people in parallel universes.
Probation periods are another joyride. You’re not evaluated on what you do, but how well you endure whims and vague expectations. One day it’s “work independently,” and the next it’s “why didn’t you anticipate my telepathic request for 14 updates by lunchtime?”
Ghosting in this job market is a phenomenon. Companies seem to believe that acknowledging candidates’ existence is optional, much like the concept of overtime pay. But, who needs transparency or communication when you’ve got the thrill of ambiguity? If you’ve ever wanted to know what it feels like to date an emotionally unavailable employer, you’re in the right place.
Alright, Indonesia, time for a reality check. We know change is hard. It’s so much easier to lean into nepotism, ageism, and the good ol’ “unpaid trial disguised as character building” scam. But these outdated practices are shooting businesses in the foot, too. Innovation isn’t exactly thriving when your hiring strategy boils down to “Who’s your dad?”
If we want to play on the global stage it’s time to stop recruiting like it’s 1995. Prioritize talent over surnames, skills over appearances, and actual qualifications over zodiac signs. It’s radical, but if we could revolutionize how we hail rides and order nasi goreng with an app, surely we can handle a little HR upgrade.
So let’s make this New Year’s resolution stick. Say goodbye to ghosting, ditch the “family-culture” guilt trips, and maybe start replying to emails. Imagine the possibilities if we channeled our love of efficiency into, say, actually being efficient.
Here’s to a year of fairness, transparency, and hiring smarter, not lazier. Come on, Indonesia. Let’s deliver. Who’s with me?