On the Four Pillars Stage, Students Demand Justice

What would happen if a competition teaching national values instead led students to question justice? That question arises following the controversy surrounding the 2026 Four Pillars Quiz Competition at the West Kalimantan provincial level, which went viral on social media. On a stage meant to be a space for learning Pancasila, the 1945 Constitution of the Republic of Indonesia, the Unitary State of the Republic of Indonesia, and Unity in Diversity, the public instead witnessed students demanding the most fundamental value in education: justice in practice, not just in theory.

In reports, the controversy stemmed from perceived inconsistencies in the judges’ decisions. One participant’s answer was deemed incorrect and penalised, while a similar answer from another team was later accepted as correct. MPR Deputy Chairman Abcandra Muhammad Akbar Supratman issued an apology and called for a comprehensive evaluation of the judging panel’s performance and the competition system. The MPR also deactivated the judges and host as an initial step in the evaluation.

The apology is important. Evaluation is necessary. However, this issue cannot be resolved merely by deactivating judges or the host. What is at stake is not just the scores on the board. At risk is students’ trust in justice within educational spaces.

The Four Pillars Quiz is no ordinary competition. It carries the weight of national education. Thus, when a contest about Pancasila and the constitution is questioned due to allegedly unfair judging procedures, the problem cannot be dismissed as a mere technical error. There is an irony too glaring to ignore: national values are tested on stage, yet the practice of justice is called into question.

From this, we can see that this controversy is not just a technical matter of the competition. There is a power dynamic at play within it.

In the competition arena, judges are not merely evaluators. They hold authority. Participants are in a weaker position. They may study for months, represent their school, answer as quickly as possible, and stake their confidence in front of the public. Yet, the final decision remains in the judges’ hands. Such a relationship is acceptable as long as the authority operates transparently, consistently, and openly to corrections.

Problems arise when authority seems insufficiently receptive. At that point, participants do not just lose points. They lose recognition of their effort, knowledge, and courage to perform.

I have participated in quiz competitions before. Because of that, I know that a judge’s decision is never as simple as numbers changing on the scoreboard. It involves long preparation, teachers’ prayers, the school’s name, team solidarity, and the hopes of many people. Defeat can be accepted if the process is clear. What is hard to accept is when participants feel their answer did not receive equal treatment.

Therefore, the core issue in this controversy is not just winning or losing. It is procedural justice.

Procedural justice means participants not only accept the final result but also feel that the process leading to it was honest, consistent, and accountable. In educational competitions, this principle is vital. Participants can accept their answer being wrong if the explanation is clear. They can accept defeat if the judging standards are the same. They can also respect the judges’ decision if an objection mechanism is available and handled with dignity.

Conversely, when standards seem to shift, objections are not adequately heard, or explanations feel like they close off questions, students learn something dangerous: that being right is not enough if power refuses to listen.

This is where the irony of the Four Pillars cuts sharply. Pancasila teaches justice. The constitution teaches orderly rules. The Unitary State of Indonesia teaches institutional responsibility. Unity in Diversity teaches respect for others. However, these values are not enough when merely recited in quiz questions. These values must come alive in how the competition is conducted.

Students do not learn only from material. They also learn from treatment. They learn from how adults make decisions, open space for objections, apologise, improve themselves, or stubbornly defend their authority. This is where national education is often misunderstood. We too often view value education as mere memorisation. Yet, for students, values become real when they experience them.

Justice is not enough explained as a principle. Justice must be felt in procedures. Democracy is not enough as quiz material. Democracy must be present in the courage to hear objections. The constitution is not enough as a quick answer. The constitution must be evident in clear and consistent rules.

This controversy also shows an important shift in digital society. In the past, participants’ objections might have ended in the competition room. Now, social media makes that experience witnessed by the public. Virality gives space to voices that were previously easily ignored. It forces institutions to respond. It makes students, schools, and the public monitor the workings of authority.

However, social media also has another side. Public anger can easily turn into personal bullying. Criticism of judges, the host, or the organising committee is valid, especially if there is negligence. Even the host of this quiz has apologised after their remarks were deemed insensitive by the public. However, mature criticism must not stop at punishing individuals. We need to demand systemic accountability: how judges are selected, how answer standards are set, how objection mechanisms are run, and how decisions can be verified.

Because if this issue is resolved only by finding who is most at fault, improvement will remain superficial. Today judges are replaced, tomorrow the same system can produce the same problems.

Educational competitions require more serious governance. Objection mechanisms