Indonesia’s Millennial Addiction

confusing privilege with competence

From Minister Nadiem Makarim to mayor of Solo candidate Gibran Rakabuming, millennials had begun filling Indonesian positions of power. Although promising at first, with fresh creative ideas — or the promise thereof — flowing through the realms of Indonesian politics, this millennial addiction has sadly turned sour.

Blunders upon blunders came rolling in, as for instance, not long after President Jokowi named his two new millennial presidential expert staffs, controversies involving Adamas Belva Syah Devara and Andi Taufan Garuda Putra subsequently led to their resignation. Nadiem Makarim also has recently come under fire after key organizations such as Muhammadiyah and Nahdlatul Ulama voiced their concerns over the involvement of private enterprises in the ministry’s latest teacher training grant program.

Alas, the government seems to be clueless about how to properly utilise and bring the best out of millennials. Before we alienate the largest generation among Indonesia’s productive population, and make them politically apathetic, we need to stop: 1) making political commodities out of millennials; 2) confusing privilege with competence; and 3) fixating on false millennial stereotypes

A call for change — the quick way out

The expectations mounted on the shoulders of millennials to quickly fix Indonesia’s biggest problems seem to be inspired by the rise of tech companies led by the likes of Mark Zuckerberg or Joe Gebbia. Millennials had quickly become the epitome of breakthroughs and the agents of change. And change yields progress. Right?

Not necessarily.

In fact, more often than not, change breeds catastrophe. Pandemic, income inequality, and the low quality of education, are such complex problems that one should be very careful not to make them worse.

As in thousands of lines of codes behind an operating system; the probability of an inexperienced programmer making the whole system crashed by introducing change into the code is a lot higher than improving it.

Rendering the solutions to Indonesia’s complex problems down to mere change is an example of low-resolution thinking, a soundbite that unfortunately sells well among constituencies.

Not only Indonesia is a complex nation, it is also incredibly unique. Made up of more than 17,000 islands and islets, Indonesia’s size and remoteness puts it in a position that very few other nations face.

However, instead of developing a robust system that breeds the most competent millennials who can fix Indonesia’s most complex problems, millennials are made into a political commodity and exploited to increase appeals and political clout.

Confusing privilege with competence

The cure to Indonesian inadequacies is competence. A sophisticated talent management system which allows us to recognise, reward, and breed competence—and not to mistake it for privilege—is sorely needed.

Millennials do dominate the workforce, and are defining a new market, and as a result, need to be involved in high-level governance. However, not all millennials are high-achieving, competent professionals. Most importantly, not all millennials have the experiences and wisdoms that could only come from overcoming setbacks and struggles.

Having been exploited as a political commodity, millennials are often exempt from scrutiny over their track records in the fields in which they are supposed to make differences.

Like raw durians, some millennials — highly potential as they may be—are plucked early out of the tree, and told to make progress in the areas they have little experiences in.

This phenomenon, together with the disproportionate attention, and preference bestowed upon them by media, had led people, including the millennials themselves, to mistake privilege for competence.

Indeed many millennials had come from privileged and wealthy backgrounds prior to occupying public offices—some may have grown up without having to experience setbacks and struggles the way the majority of Indonesian have to.

Although they may be impressive, well-intentioned young people who have worked hard and created something extraordinary for Indonesia, millennials coming from privileged background are often perceived as being out of touch with the rest of their underprivileged counterparts.

This may explain why Nadiem Makarim, albeit highly accomplished in his field, has recently been criticised for being insensitive to the problems of people in the low-income bracket, in implementing his long-distance learning programme.

The best durians should not be plucked off the tree, they need to fall off it.

We need to be patient, and allow the best millennials to ripen. Through overcoming challenges, they need to prove to the people and most importantly to themselves, that they are competent and ready to step up. They need to be allowed to prove that despite their young age, they are mature enough to compete fairly and collaborate with their older counterparts. Through this process resembling a “natural selection” we will breed the next generation of competent Indonesian.

False millennial stereotypes

In general, the typical media conception of the Indonesian millennial is that of an upper-middle class, highly educated, latte-sipping, GoFood-ordering urban youth, probably employed in either the technology or creative sectors. However, this cannot be further from the truth, as according to BPS data from 2017, around 45% of Indonesian millennials are blue-collar workers or work in sales/service jobs compared to the meagre 8.4% that hold managerial positions or work in professional jobs.

In order to successfully utilise millennials, we need to first understand who they really are. By propagating these false stereotypes we risk alienating the largest group of Indonesia’s productive population and worse yet, make political apathists out of them.

Most Indonesian millennial is a far cry from the likes of Mark Zuckerberg and Joe Gebbia, who personify a new generation brimming with successful, profitable ideas. They are not Harvard graduates. In fact, they are the ones who suffer from poor public education.

This mischaracterisation explains the controversies surrounding the pre-employment card programs wherein the training courses are not based on rigorous research about skills gaps but rather on baseless “trends” among said millennials.

The real Indonesian millennials are in dire need of good quality education, and proper jobs. They do not need to be taught how to become a top seller in the unicorn Tokopedia, or to make silky puddings, or to rack up Instagram followers.

Conveniently, one of the training providers for the employment card programs is Ruangguru founded by Adamas Belva Syah Devara, one of Jokowi’s millennial staffs — who does not represent the majority of Indonesian millennials.

Indonesia needs to stop being hasty in putting the heavy burden of fixing the challenges of today on the shoulders of millennials and allowing themselves to be commodified and instead, establish a robust talent management system that is based on transparency, and fair competition—one which recognises, rewards, and breeds competence.