The Blessing of the Pertamax Price Hike
The increase in the price of Pertamax fuel has changed the situation at petrol stations on the outskirts of Jakarta. I observed a long queue for the Pertalite lane, filled with automatic scooters, underbone motorcycles, LCGC cars, and the latest family vehicles. Their engines were switched off to save every drop of fuel in the tank. Meanwhile, the Pertamax lane presented a different view: it was quiet and deserted, with only one or two luxury cars entering without queuing, served by attendants who were always smiling and unhurried.
For some economic observers and social media activists, this June 2026 scene is a tragedy. The surge in Pertamax prices from Rp12,300 to Rp16,250 per litre is considered a severe blow to public purchasing power. The mass media is busy interviewing online motorcycle taxi drivers and MSME actors whose profits have been completely eroded. A wave of protests was unavoidable; recently and continuing today, student demonstrations have erupted, voicing grassroots anxieties about the threat of subsidised fuel scarcity due to mass consumption migration.
I try to take a breath, lean back, and view this from another angle that seems to have escaped the radar of observers and street orators. For me, the Pertamax price increase is actually a blessing and a correct policy carried out by the Ministry of Energy and Mineral Resources under the command of Bahlil Lahadalia. Why? I see a shock therapy that forces this nation to be honest with itself about its social class. Indirectly, the Pertamax increase is filtering social classes honestly, efficiently, and rationally.
Dismantling the Illusion of Prestige
The increase in the price of non-subsidised fuel essentially delivers a healthy moral slap through a simple analogy of a village feast. Imagine a wedding celebration in a village where the host provides two types of dishes: premium beef rendang for VIP guests and boxed rice with fried chicken for regular guests. For years, the event committee kindly injected funds so that the price of the beef rendang was not too far from the chicken rice box. As a result, many villagers with tight budgets dared to join the rendang queue. They styled themselves like the elite, eating rendang while laughing heartily, even though upon returning home, they were dizzy thinking about various loan instalments.
So, what happens when the price of rendang is suddenly tripled because the beef stock is running low? These regular folks immediately come to their senses. They separate themselves from the rendang queue and walk with their heads bowed towards the chicken rice box tent. Is this oppression? Certainly not. This is moral restructuring. The event committee is forcing residents to ‘know their place’ and return to their true economic path. All this time, we have suffered from a sociological disease: a fondness for pretending to be upper-middle class. Buying a motorcycle on a seven-year instalment plan, then forcing oneself to fill its tank with Pertamax solely for prestige, so as not to be considered poor when queuing at the petrol station. The policy of drastically raising Pertamax prices is the antidote for this mental illness. The government is helping us dismantle that illusion. The Pertamax increase is a daily reminder sent directly to our vehicle tanks that we are, in essence, still part of a society struggling to meet basic living needs.
The Firmness of the Energy Legal Structure
If we dissect the architecture of our oil and gas laws, the correctness of the non-subsidised fuel price increase rests on the firm separation of commercial commodities and subsidies, which actually has a very solid legal foundation. Its highest basis is rooted in Law Number 22 of 2001 concerning Oil and Natural Gas, specifically Articles 53 to 58, which strictly regulate downstream business activities, licensing, and distribution supervision. This law clearly separates the purely commercial business domain from the area of state intervention to support public needs.
To ensure that state intervention is well-targeted, Presidential Regulation Number 191 of 2014 concerning the Provision, Distribution, and Retail Selling Price of Fuel Oil was enacted. This legendary regulation is the holy book for grouping fuel types, firmly separating Certain Fuel Types (subsidised), Special Assignment Fuel Types (Pertalite), and General Fuel Types (Pertamax and above). The basic price formula for general fuel was then derived through Minister of Energy and Mineral Resources Decree Number 245.K/MG.01/MEM.M/2022, which releases Pertamax to the market mechanism, referring to the published price of Singapore Mogas 92.
What does this mean? Legally, Pertamax is indeed not designed for economically vulnerable citizens. Pertamax is a purely commercial consumption good. So, when the price of Pertamax jumps to Rp16,250, the government is not violating the constitution. The government is actually enforcing market law. Demanding cheap Pertamax prices is akin to demanding a café owner sell Arabica coffee at the price of roadside stall sachet coffee. It is a fundamental logical fallacy.
Looking at historical data from the last decade (2016-2026), our dependence on liquid fuel has reached a worrying critical point. According to data from the Special Task Force for Upstream Oil and Gas Business Activities (SKK Migas), Indonesia’s oil lifting production has continued to decline from around 800 thousand barrels per day in 2016 to a critical threshold below 600 barrels per day in 2026. Meanwhile, our consumption is soaring like a rocket. We are a net oil importer nation that must buy petrol from abroad using US dollars, whose price is increasingly expensive. In this macro context, allowing Pertamax prices to remain cheap is a form of long-term economic suicide.