Borrowed Energy Resilience

Indonesia appears calm as many countries begin tightening their energy belts. Prices are kept stable, consumption is not restricted, and there is no sense of urgency. But this calm leaves one question: are we truly safe, or are we merely borrowing a sense of security from a world that happens to still be stable?

As the threat of a global energy crisis intensifies, many countries opt for unpopular measures. Energy prices are raised, consumption is curbed, and efficiency is enforced. These policies are politically costly but rational in risk management. Indonesia has taken a different path.

There are no major restrictions, no significant price corrections, and no palpable urgency in the public sphere. The dominant narrative remains the same: supply is secure. This is where the paradox emerges.

Structurally, Indonesia still relies heavily on energy imports, while reserve capacity is relatively limited. In conventional logic, this condition should prompt higher vigilance. Yet what is seen is calm. The explanation lies not in the numbers, but in how the state manages risk.

Advanced countries use a risk anticipation approach, paying costs upfront to extend resilience. Indonesia is closer to risk absorption, absorbing shocks while the system still functions.

This approach is not wrong. In certain contexts, it is even rational. But the key question is: where does this resilience actually come from?

The answer points to one concept: Indonesia operates an “externalized energy buffering,” where energy resilience partly relies on the stability of the global system, not entirely on domestic capacity.

Instead of building large buffers domestically, Indonesia leverages the smoothness of global markets. Supplies can be redirected, contracts adjusted, and distribution routes have so far functioned well. As long as that happens, the domestic system appears stable.

However, the implication is clear: what makes Indonesia look stable today is not internal strength, but because the buffering function is largely outside our own system.

This is not an ideal energy resilience strategy. It is an adaptation to limitations, which, while the world is stable, looks like strength.

To see its position succinctly, just look to the region. Countries like Thailand use stabilisation funds to dampen price volatility, Vietnam periodically adjusts prices so pressure does not accumulate, Malaysia directs subsidies more targetedly, while Singapore relies on market discipline and efficiency. The point is the same: they are starting to share the risk burden, not holding it at one point. Indonesia still holds most of those adjustments upfront.

The result is indeed stable in the short term. But this stability does not entirely come from within the system. It is supported by the assumption that the global system will continue to run without major disruptions.

The problem is, such a system gives no early warning signs. It looks fine until one small disruption makes it waver all at once. This is where its vulnerability lies.

In systems with long reserves or price adjustment mechanisms, disruptions can be absorbed gradually. In systems with limited buffers, the same disruption immediately narrows policy space.

The difference is not just the level of risk, but the speed at which the crisis escalates.

Imagine a global distribution disruption for a few weeks. Countries with strong buffers still have time to adapt. Indonesia has far narrower room.

This means the stability we feel today is highly sensitive to the duration and scale of external disruptions. Why is this approach still chosen?

The answer lies in domestic realities. Energy in Indonesia is not just a commodity, but an instrument of stability. Fuel prices affect inflation, purchasing power, and public perception of the economic condition. Maintaining short-term stability is often a rational choice.

On the other hand, building large reserves requires significant fiscal and infrastructure costs. This combination creates an imperfect balance: the system keeps running, but with thin safety margins.

Indonesia’s current condition cannot be simply labelled as strong or weak. It is stable as long as the external environment supports it. But that is precisely where its weak point lies.

This borrowed resilience does not weaken slowly. It can change quickly when global conditions shift.

Countries that have adjusted earlier will have more manoeuvring room. Countries that delay adjustments will be forced to adapt in a tight timeframe and often at higher costs. Indonesia is in that position.

Thus, today’s calm should not be read as the absence of risk, but as risk that has not yet surfaced.

It is like a house without water reserves: as long as the flow is smooth, everything feels normal. But when the flow is interrupted, the problem does not come gradually but all at once. In the end, the issue is not whether Indonesia is safe today.

Rather, are we building resilience or merely borrowing time from stability we do not control?

Because in the end, this is not about whether we are safe today, but whether we are prepared when the stability we borrow is withdrawn.