Prioritising What Should Come First

During a trip to the Netherlands and Belgium, one recurring sight caught our attention. Almost every time we approached a zebra crossing, vehicles that were still quite far away would begin to slow down. Even before we had fully stepped onto the road, drivers had already stopped to let us cross. There was no honking, no impatient gestures, and certainly no attempts to sneak past at the last second. Once we had finished crossing, they would calmly continue their journey. This sight seemed utterly ordinary to the locals, but for us, it became a valuable lesson.

What we witnessed was not merely spontaneous kindness from the drivers. Behind it lies a system built and enforced consistently. In the Netherlands, the hierarchy of road users is clearly regulated. Trams hold the highest priority because they run on rails and lack the freedom to manoeuvre. Next come pedestrians, then cyclists, and finally motorised vehicles. These rules are not just words in a regulation book; they are enforced through real supervision and sanctions. The infrastructure is also designed to support this, from separated bicycle lanes and clearly marked zebra crossings to consistent priority signs and road markings at every intersection.

But what is far more interesting than the rules themselves is how they have transformed into culture. Giving way to more vulnerable road users appears to have become a reflex, not merely a legal obligation. Drivers slow down when they see pedestrians not just because they fear penalties, but because they understand that it is the right thing to do. Cyclists give way to trams not because they are forced to, but because they realise the tram has no choice but to follow its tracks. There is a collective awareness that the road is a shared space, which only becomes comfortable when everyone is willing to make room for those who need it more.

Returning to Indonesia, the contrast is stark. Pedestrians trying to cross at zebra crossings often still have to wait because vehicles refuse to yield. Just this morning, my daughter Najwa Rashika experienced this firsthand while crossing near Tugu Station in Yogyakarta. Instead of being allowed to cross, she was honked at by a motorcyclist. Cyclists still have to share space with motorised vehicles due to the limited number of dedicated lanes. City buses also frequently lose their right of way at intersections. The problem is not simply a lack of rules, but that everyone feels their own interests are the most urgent. When everyone wants to go first, ultimately no one is willing to give way.

This lesson about priorities on the road reminds me of the academic journey of master’s and doctoral students. Just as a wise driver understands when to give way to pedestrians, a mature researcher understands what must be prioritised first. Completing a literature review before expanding research variables. Mastering one method thoroughly before being tempted to try another approach. Finishing a thesis or dissertation on time before endlessly broadening the scope of research. The ability to set priorities is often far more decisive than intellectual ability alone.

This is where ego often appears in subtle forms. The ego that makes it difficult to accept a supervisor’s input because one believes their own ideas are the most correct. The ego that refuses to acknowledge data limitations, forcing conclusions beyond the available evidence. The ego that is unwilling to change a research approach even when reality shows that another path is more feasible for achieving the goal. Just as a driver who refuses to stop at a zebra crossing because they feel their time is too precious, a researcher who cannot control their ego risks hindering their own research progress. Prioritising what should be prioritised, both on the road and in research, demands the humility to recognise that we are not the only ones with interests at stake.

Civilisation, it turns out, is not built solely by advanced technology or grand infrastructure. Civilisation requires small habits practised consistently. Stopping for a few seconds to allow a pedestrian to cross may seem trivial. Yet from these small habits grow respect for the rights of others, discipline, mutual trust, and a culture that places the common good above personal interest. We have now returned to Yogyakarta, but the lesson about priorities we discovered on the roads of the Netherlands and Belgium will continue to accompany our journey, both as road users and as educators. For in the end, a society’s progress is measured not only by how quickly people can reach their destinations, but also by their willingness to pause for a moment to give others their due.