Escaping the Crab Bucket: Towards B50

There is an interesting irony in the launch of B50 biodiesel. Amid the inauguration of a technological leap in energy, President Prabowo Subianto spoke about a crab in a bucket. At first glance, the metaphor sounds odd. What is the connection between crabs and biodiesel? What does social mentality have to do with a 50 percent blend of palm oil-based biodiesel? That is precisely where the most important message lies.

History shows that many nations fail not because of a lack of resources or technology, but because they fail to build a culture that allows innovation to grow. Machines can be bought, refineries can be built, and capital can be sought. However, trust, collaboration, and the courage to support the success of others cannot be manufactured in a factory.

B50 is a clear example. Indonesia has long been known as the world’s largest producer of palm oil, contributing around 55 to 60 percent of global production. Palm oil has become a lifeline for millions of smallholder farmers, a source of state revenue, and a raw material for various industries, from food and cosmetics to oleochemicals and renewable energy. Through B50, palm oil enters a new chapter. It is no longer just a source of cooking oil or industrial raw materials; it has become part of Indonesia’s geopolitical strategy. Every litre of biodiesel that replaces fossil diesel means reduced dependence on energy imports, strengthened national energy security, and increased added value for domestic commodities. The biodiesel programme has also helped save a significant amount of foreign exchange over recent years by reducing diesel imports.

Not many countries have this luxury: biological resources capable of forming the foundation of an energy transition. Yet, behind this success lies a paradox. The more strategic palm oil becomes for Indonesia, the fiercer the debate surrounding it. Abroad, palm oil is often positioned as a symbol of deforestation and a threat to biodiversity. Domestically, almost every policy related to palm oil triggers polarisation. Some see it solely as an economic saviour, while others view it as a source of environmental problems. In reality, like any other technology, palm oil is not a black-and-white issue. The determining factor is not the crop itself, but its governance. Therefore, B50 should not be read as a victory for palm oil, but rather as a test for Indonesia’s governance.

The real question is not whether Indonesia has enough palm oil to meet biodiesel demand. The far more important question is whether this increased demand will be met through land expansion or productivity improvements. The first option seems easy. Opening new land can increase production in a relatively short time. However, this choice carries significant ecological, social, and political consequences. The second option is far more challenging, but also far more sustainable. Indonesia still has considerable room to increase the productivity of smallholder plantations. In many production centres, farmer yields remain well below their actual potential. Replanting programmes are uneven, the adoption of superior seeds is not yet optimal, and soil health is declining in several regions, while climate change presents new pressures such as drought, flooding, and increased pest disturbances.

This means the future of B50 is not actually determined at the biodiesel refinery. It is determined on the plantation. It is determined by the success of research in producing more adaptive varieties, by the ability of extension services to bridge science and field practice, by soil health that can support long-term productivity, and by policies that encourage farmers to become key actors in transformation, not just raw material suppliers. At this point, the issue is no longer merely about agronomy or energy. It becomes a matter of culture.

Innovation never grows in a space filled with suspicion. No technology develops if every new idea is ridiculed before it is tested. No country becomes a leader in the bioeconomy if the successes of researchers, farmers, industry, or the government are always treated as a threat whose flaws must be found. Criticism is absolutely necessary. Without it, public policy loses its correction mechanism. However, healthy criticism aims to improve, not to hope for failure. This distinction is often subtle, but it is decisive.

Nations that have built innovation-based industries share one common trait: they are able to turn individual success into a collective asset. A scientific discovery does not stop in the laboratory; it is translated into technology. One farmer’s success becomes learning material for others. A company’s achievement becomes a trigger for the next innovation. Conversely, societies trapped in the ‘crab bucket’ mentality—where individuals spend too much energy pulling each other down—view every step forward with prejudice. Every success is suspected of having a hidden agenda. As a result, collective energy is exhausted on maintaining positions rather than creating breakthroughs.

Perhaps that is why the President chose this metaphor at the launch of B50. He was reminding us that Indonesia’s biggest challenge is no longer finding the technology. We have the scientists, universities, industries, and natural resources. The biggest challenge is ensuring that our social ecosystem can provide space for innovation to grow. Ultimately, B50 is not just an energy policy. It is a mirror reflecting Indonesia’s big choice: whether we will use our advantage as the world’s largest palm oil producer to build a competitive bioeconomy through productivity, innovation, and collaboration, or whether we will remain trapped in the crab bucket, busy pulling each other down while the world moves forward.