One Nation, Millions of Timelines
Jakarta (ANTARA) – Imagine two young people sitting side by side on the same MRT train. On one screen, Indonesia appears to be moving forward: projects are inaugurated, achievements celebrated and a bright future promised. On the screen next to it, Indonesia seems exhausted: jobseekers queue, families count the cost of living, and residents complain about disruption caused by haze from forest and land fires. They get off at the same station, but may go home carrying two different countries with them.
If we receive different fragments of Indonesia every day, what still makes us feel that we are living a shared life?
On 28 October, we once again remember the courage of young people who imagined a nation. This year’s commemorative theme, “Patriotic, Resilient, Empathetic: Youth for Indonesia”, expresses an aspiration worth nurturing. But before asking them to love the country, persevere through hardship and care for one another, we need to ask: what kind of Indonesia are we introducing to them?
Indonesia is too vast to experience alone. A student in Bandung cannot directly witness the lives of all the fishers in Maluku, workers in Morowali or farming families in East Nusa Tenggara. They need an intermediary. The press does some of this work: bringing distant lives close enough to understand and care about.
But the route to information has changed. The Reuters Institute’s Digital News Report 2026 found that 48 per cent of respondents in Indonesia relied on social media and video networks as their main source of news, up eight percentage points on the previous year. This online survey figure reflects the behaviour of respondents connected to the internet, not the entire Indonesian population. Even so, the shift in how people access information is clear.
News now appears on the same screen as shoe advertisements, funny videos, political outrage and investment advice. Everything competes for attention. An event that determines the lives of thousands may be overlooked because it is presented in an unengaging way. By contrast, a snippet of a remark can dominate conversation for days because it provokes arguments. The importance of an issue has to compete with its appeal.
Among young people, the change is more pronounced. The same report found that 52 per cent of respondents aged 18–24 across all markets surveyed identified social media, video networks and AI chatbots as their main routes to news. This is a cross-country figure, not one specific to young Indonesians. Nevertheless, it illustrates the challenge facing newsrooms: publishing a story does not automatically mean reaching younger generations.
Recommendation systems select content based on a range of signals, including users’ behaviour. Our choices help shape what appears next. But the space in which those choices are made is also structured by companies with commercial interests. We are part of a reciprocal relationship that we do not fully understand, and in which control is unevenly distributed.
Of course, differences in perspective existed before social media. People who are financially secure and those worried about paying rent experience Indonesia differently. Algorithms did not create all these divides. But digital experience can narrow the chances of encountering information that challenges our own beliefs, including accounts of people whose lives we have not previously known.
National unity therefore faces a problem more complicated than a shortage of slogans. We can recite the same pledge while finding it increasingly difficult to understand why others feel disappointed or angry. Complaints are dismissed as hatred. Achievements are labelled propaganda. People stop checking a claim because they think they already know which group stands to benefit from it.