Meritocracy Without Illusion: Capability Does Not Grow in a Vacuum

We are familiar with the saying ‘hard work will not betray the results.’ This phrase feels fair, even encouraging. Behind it lies the belief that anyone who works hard enough will get the place they deserve. This belief is the core of meritocracy, a system where positions, rewards, and opportunities are given based on ability, effort, and achievement, rather than connections, family background, or other irrelevant factors. In the context of Indonesian education, this principle is reflected in the state university selection system, where the SNBP pathway assesses academic records and achievements, while the SNBT measures cognitive abilities through scholastic aptitude and literacy tests.

Meritocracy is a crucial brake against nepotism, favouritism, and rewards not based on capability. Without clear standards, the education system is easily dominated by networks and hidden privilege. The idea that the best should advance is not one to be discarded. However, a question must be asked honestly: does everyone receive a sufficiently fair opportunity to build that capability from the very beginning?

Capability does not grow in a vacuum. Imagine two students sitting for the same UTBK exam. The first comes from a high school in a major city: he is accustomed to a complete library, teachers who actively train students in higher-order thinking skills, internet access at home, and parents who can accompany his studies at night. Since junior high, he has participated in olympiads, joined an English club, and heard stories from seniors who won scholarships abroad. The second student comes from a school on the outskirts of a district. His teachers often double as administrative staff, the library is minimal, and he only heard the term ‘UTBK’ when he reached the twelfth grade. He accesses the internet using a data package shared with his younger siblings and never knew there was a national essay competition he could enter. When both receive different scores, a meritocracy devoid of context will simply declare the first student smarter and more deserving. In reality, both may be equally stubborn in their efforts to learn. What differs is not the quality of their effort, but the quality of the path they travelled.

This is the compounding effect in education. A person’s ability rarely emerges from a single miraculous moment. It grows from small accumulations over many years. A child who can read fluently by the first grade will find it easier to understand science lessons in junior high. That good understanding opens the door to olympiads, which in turn opens the door to scholarships, and subsequently to networks and further opportunities. Conversely, limitations also accumulate in the same way. A child who is not accustomed to reading from an early age, not out of laziness but because there were no books at home and no one to read to them, will face obstacles that multiply over time.

Educational data shows this is not merely an assumption. The OECD’s PISA 2022 results recorded that Indonesian students from the highest socioeconomic group outperformed those from the lowest group by 34 points in mathematics. This gap demonstrates that learning outcomes cannot be entirely separated from socioeconomic background. The World Bank has also highlighted the problem of learning poverty in Indonesia, while data from the Central Statistics Agency on internet access shows that the digital divide remains a part of learning inequality. In other words, ‘ability’ is often the product of a long ecosystem involving home, school, teachers, books, the internet, and information. This gap is not just about money. Various education reports also show that the quality of schools and the learning environment play a significant role in student achievement. This involves teacher quality, the availability of books, exposure to information about competitions and scholarships, a community that values education, and the self-confidence that is either nurtured or fails to form from an early age.

The solution is not pity, but a more honest justice. This is not a call to lower standards. UTBK questions should not be made easier, and report card grades should not be falsified. Standards of ability remain important because society needs truly competent professionals, not just graduates who passed out of sympathy. What must be questioned is whether we are serious enough about ensuring that more people have a proper access to build their capabilities before they are judged on those capabilities.

Amartya Sen, the Nobel laureate economist, offers a relevant capabilities approach. Sen emphasises that true justice is not just about who eventually passes, but about whether a person truly has the real freedom and capacity to develop. In the context of education, this means asking whether a child from a remote area in Nusa Tenggara has a genuinely equal opportunity to a child in Jakarta to build their abilities. If the answer is no, then our education system is not finished simply by holding honest selection tests. It must go further: expanding access to quality teachers, books, technology, information about scholarships and opportunities, and supportive learning environments. This is not out of pity for those left behind, but because a healthy society requires a meritocracy that stands on a more level foundation.

A healthy meritocracy is not one that is blind to a person’s history. It is a meritocracy that understands that capability does not grow in a vacuum. Therefore, our collective task is to narrow the distance between those who must run much farther and those who start near the finish line.