Rise Amid Injustice
A Delft-educated doctor, specialising in transport infrastructure, once told me about the moment he decided not to return. It wasn’t due to his Rotterdam salary being three times higher than the ministry’s offer, nor was it out of homesickness. The decision came when he read about a former state-owned enterprise (SOE) director being prosecuted for a business decision made six years prior — one that had followed all procedures, received board approval, and undergone audit. ‘If someone like that can be jailed,’ he said, ‘I don’t know what rules apply here.’
This is no isolated case. In recent years, similar narratives have emerged across sectors: technical consultants rejecting government projects, academics declining public office, young engineers never seriously considering a return. Not because they lack concern, but because they genuinely question whether the system protects those who act rightly — a question that shapes their decisions more than any other factor.
Injustice does not always wear a harsh face. It can operate through seemingly neutral, even authoritative systems, yet produce disproportionate consequences for those acting in good faith.
Douglas Husak describes this as an overly broad ‘net of liability’. In his 2008 book Overcriminalization, he argues that when states define too many crimes with excessive penalties, the legal system meant to catch offenders instead sweeps up everyone beneath the surface. Systems unable to distinguish between offenders and conscientious workers cease to be tools of justice, becoming instruments of anxiety instead.
In public governance, this anxiety comes at a high cost. Christopher Hood (1991) noted how New Public Management imposes strict accountability demands: decisions must be measurable, efficient, results-oriented. Yet governance complexity makes perfect information impossible. Public decisions are always made under uncertainty, and failure is not an exception but a structural inevitability of the work itself.
The real issue isn’t accountability itself, but how our laws interpret it. A correction is needed here: maladministration — administrative errors that should be resolved through administrative mechanisms — is not equivalent to mens rea in criminal law, which requires proving malicious intent. When this line blurs, justice is not upheld; instead, courage in decision-making is punished.
Frederick Schauer’s 1978 study on the chilling effect reveals a counterintuitive truth: unpredictable penalties hit the most law-abiding hardest, not the offenders. It’s those most concerned with rules who feel the brunt. Translate this logic to Indonesia’s bureaucracy, and the picture becomes clear: officials and technical professionals involved in government projects will opt for safety, choosing passivity. And when passivity no longer suffices, they leave.
Recent cases targeting former officials and government technical consultants mirror this dynamic. While the legal merits can and should be debated, the social effects have already taken hold long before a judge’s gavel falls: a signal about the risks of entering public service has been widely sent. When that signal is strong enough, choosing not to return is no longer about values or loyalty — it becomes a simple, human calculation.
Albert Hirschman mapped this choice in Exit, Voice, and Loyalty (1970): when institutions disappoint, three responses are open — stay and fight for change from within, remain silent out of loyalty, or leave. What determines the choice isn’t ideology or lack of love, but the cost of staying.
When that cost includes the risk of criminal prosecution for professionally sound decisions made in good faith, leaving ceases to be betrayal. It becomes a rational calculation. Today’s educated Indonesian generation has real access to global labour markets. Their talents are recognised. Offers come. Choosing to leave is not a sign of defeat — it’s a rational response to a system offering no guarantees.
Data backs this anxiety. The Fund for Peace’s 2024 Human Flight and Brain Drain Index ranks Indonesia at 5.4 out of 10, above the global average of 4.98, at 88th out of 175 countries. Not a disaster, but a figure too significant to ignore.
Less discussed is this: Docquier and Rapoport’s 2012 findings in the Journal of Economic Literature show that skilled migrants’ decisions aren’t just about wage gaps. Institutional quality, including legal certainty and perceptions of fairness, proves equally decisive.
We continue investing in educating generations through scholarships and higher education. Yet unknowingly, our institutional system is building the strongest argument for why talent should serve elsewhere. The question is no longer why they leave, but what must be fixed to make returning a rational choice.
This is not a defence of impunity. Corruption is real and must be addressed. Accountability is a prerequisite, not an option. But there is a need to correct how we understand it because