A Trust Trapped in Routine: A Reflection for 6.54 Million Civil Servants

There is a scene that is almost always the same in government office environments just before eight in the morning. A number of people walk in, record their attendance via a fingerprint machine or the SIASN application, then sit at their respective desks. Shortly after, the aroma of coffee wafts through the air, followed by casual chatter, and then silence descends—not a silence filled with busyness, but a silence waiting for lunchtime and the time to go home.

The phenomenon of ‘arrive, drink coffee, go home’ is no longer just a joke on social media. It has become a stereotype attached to the figure of the State Civil Apparatus, and most painfully, this assumption was not born from a vacuum, but from real experiences felt by the public daily. Based on the ASN Statistics Book for Semester II-2025 from the National Civil Service Agency, the number of ASN as of the end of December 2025 reached 6.54 million people, an increase of 1.81 million compared to the previous year. The size of our bureaucracy is getting larger, yet the fundamental question remains hanging: does bigger mean more beneficial for the people?

The main problem is not the large number of ASN, but what is done after recording attendance. A comparative study at the Population and Civil Registration Office of East Kutai Regency found that the work effectiveness of civil servants was actually lower than that of contract employees, who work faster because their performance directly affects their income. This is not about lazy individuals, but about a system that allows someone to be present without having to contribute.

Islam actually links work with faith, not just a routine of filling in attendance. Allah SWT says, ‘And work, for Allah will see your work, and so will His Messenger and the believers.’ (QS At-Taubah: 105). The Prophet Muhammad SAW also said, ‘Indeed, Allah loves that when one of you does a job, he does it with itqan—diligently and thoroughly.’ (HR Thabrani). These two guidelines affirm that the mandate of public office is not only accountable to a superior or the e-Kinerja system, but to the All-Seeing.

This is the most honest question: we know we must change, so why do we remain still? We know citizens are frustrated waiting for documents that never get completed, investors are reluctant to enter because of convoluted procedures, and pregnant women must queue for hours just for a referral letter. System change without a change in work culture is merely an illusion—the system can record what is written in reports, but it cannot record the intention behind them.

There is a difficult truth to admit: staying still feels comfortable. When income continues to arrive regardless of work quality, the spirit to move slowly fades. When promotions depend more on length of service than on achievement, the desire to do better is eroded. Such comfort is a prison wrapped in routine: we know the way out is there, but we choose not to move.

The message of this writing is not to blame all ASN, but to invite all of us to reflect, because this phenomenon can also be present in our workplaces, campuses, or our own surroundings. How many times have we known something is wrong, but chose to stay silent for the sake of peace?

Bureaucratic reform will not be completed merely with sophisticated applications or strict regulations. It requires the courage of every individual to stop being still—starting from small things: arriving on time because there are citizens waiting, completing tasks today, and filling out reports honestly as a matter of trust, not formality.

There are 6.54 million ASN in Indonesia. If only a fraction of them dared to move, the impact would be extraordinary. It all starts with one honest question to ourselves: we know we must change, so why do we still choose to remain still?