This article was first published in Kompas on 21 April 2025 and has been translated using AI.
If policies are allowed to be driven solely by political intuition without correction from knowledge, evidence, and data, what emerges is not a strong government, but rather a fragile one.After the revelry ends, reality usually strikes immediately. This expression may describe our national situation.
Six months after Prabowo was inaugurated as president, various issues faced by the country, both domestic and geopolitical impacts, have yet to show a way out, and have even become more complicated.
In the economic sector, policies such as the increase in Value Added Tax (VAT) to 12 percent and the implementation of Tapera contributions—although later postponed—have triggered concerns among the middle class burdened by additional fiscal loads. Meanwhile, social assistance programs are considered to have not effectively reached vulnerable groups.
In the realm of law and justice, the public perceives the poor enforcement of law, the massive conflicts of interest, and the inequality in access to public services as the main challenges facing the government. This is exacerbated by the indiscriminate budget cuts to ministries/agencies that are deemed to paralyze the government’s own performance.
From a geopolitical perspective, the tariff policy implemented by the United States adds pressure to the national economy. The 32 percent tariff on Indonesian exports to the US raises concerns about its impact on sectors such as textiles and handicrafts.
In facing this, Indonesia has chosen a diplomatic approach—offering to increase imports of US products, including energy and agriculture, worth up to 19 billion US dollars to reduce the trade surplus and avoid the tariffs.
In addition, it involves opening the faucet and removing import quotas. However, this step has been criticized as it is deemed detrimental to domestic producers and weakens Indonesia’s bargaining position in international trade. This move also raises questions about the government’s long-term strategy in facing external pressures and maintaining national economic independence.
Worse yet, all of this is happening amidst the government’s clumsiness in fulfilling its own political promises. The Free Nutritious Meals (MBG), which as of March 2025 has only been provided to two million out of the promised 82.9 million students, has only utilized Rp 700 billion from this year’s allocation of Rp 171 trillion.
The ambiguity—if not the denial—of the promise of three million free houses for the poor. The unclear strategy for expanding social assistance due to issues of access and accuracy of integrated national socio-economic data (DTSEN). Not to mention the plan to prepare a food estate that is feared to clear millions of hectares of forest, or the promise to provide millions of jobs, even though layoffs (PHK) from 2024 to February 2025 have claimed 250,000 victims. Many more.
However, in facing all these issues, the government’s response does not appear to be solid: the management of development is uncoordinated and there is no control over planning and execution. It seems as though this new administration is “paralyzed” in the face of the situation. Why is this happening?
The elimination of technocratism
It cannot be denied that there is a growing unease: has the technocratic era, which has been the backbone of development governance for the past two decades, been abandoned, if not slowly heading towards its demise?
First, the erosion of the role of technocrats and technocracy in the design and execution of strategic policies. During the administrations of President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono (SBY) to Joko Widodo (Jokowi), particularly in the first term, technocrats such as Kuntoro Mangkusubroto, Sri Mulyani Indrawati, Sofjan Djalil, and Bambang Brodjonegoro played a crucial role in key ministries and public sector reforms.
However, under Prabowo, there are indications that more strategic positions are filled by military figures or party politicians rather than professional technocrats.
Secondly, there is a politicization and personalization of power. Unlike SBY, who tends to be academic, or Jokowi, who is practical, Prabowo’s leadership style tends to rely on personal loyalty rather than a deliberative process based on institutional reasoning. This model contradicts the technocratic logic that emphasizes cross-institutional coordination, data-driven decision-making, and systemic accountability.
Thirdly, it is evident that there is a symbolic death of the planning paradigm. Flagship programs, such as MBG, despite their noble objectives, are viewed as fiscally and operationally unrealistic. This program was launched without in-depth feasibility studies from ministries or agencies, such as Bappenas or the Fiscal Policy Agency, indicating a weakening of the policy formulation process based on technocratic planning.
Fourth, the marginalization of planning institutions and the strengthening of transactional politics. In the Jokowi era, Bappenas still plays an important role in formulating the National Long-Term Development Plan (RPJPN)/National Medium-Term Development Plan (RPJMN) as a translation of the political promise of Nawacita.
However, in Prabowo’s administration, the position of planners has weakened, and the direction of policy—translated as Astacita in the development program—has been more influenced by short-term electoral considerations or compromises among political parties and economic oligarchs.
How to interpret this situation?
Immanuel Kant in his Critique of Practical Reason (1788) stated, “Happiness is not an ideal of reason, but of imagination.”
In development, public happiness is often envisioned in a utopian manner: zero percent poverty, universal healthcare, free education, or social justice for all.
However, behind that imagination, there is a significant amount of technical, administrative work that is often invisible: drafting regulations, managing budgets, designing systems, and ensuring policies are implemented. This is the primary task of technocrats: to translate the imagination of happiness into real and measurable policies.
The role of technocrats is not merely to execute political orders, but to formulate a roadmap that bridges the gap between vision and realization. When political promises mention the equitable distribution of education and health services, technocrats must develop funding schemes, ensure fair resource distribution, and design an efficient and inclusive bureaucratic system.
When the government promises food or energy subsidies, technocrats must assess the accuracy of the targets without compromising fiscal sustainability. Even when the President is ambitious about implementing populist programs, credible technocrats should not merely agree but should propose scenarios, risks, and success parameters.
True technocrats are those who maintain reason in a world full of imagination. They are not anti-politics, but understand that public policy is not just about popularity, but also about effectiveness and impact.
In the midst of an increasingly political and transactional government reality, the voice of technocrats is not to compete with political authority, but rather to ensure that grand promises do not end as a collective failure. Because ultimately, public happiness cannot merely be imagined—it must be designed and executed with common sense, expertise, and integrity.
Therefore, do not be surprised if the euphoria of electoral victory and the new government quickly fades when technocracy is abandoned and the cabinet begins to work aimlessly—as is happening now.
Technocratism as the key
Technocratism, in its ideal sense, is the practice of policy-making based on expertise, scientific evidence, and institutional rationality. The roots of this idea go back to Plato, who in The Republic envisioned a state ruled by philosopher-kings, those with the profound knowledge and moral wisdom to rule justly.
This idea was then developed by Max Weber in rational-legal authority (1921), where modern bureaucracy should be built on the basis of expertise, impersonal rules and professional hierarchy, not just inheritance or charisma.
In the 20th century, technocracy prominently featured in the development models of various countries. In the United States, the New Deal under FD Roosevelt involved experts to design policies to address the Great Depression. In France post-World War II, the administrative elite, such as graduates of the École Nationale d’Administration, led economic planning.
East Asian countries, such as Japan, South Korea, and Singapore, demonstrate that strong technocrats can facilitate rapid industrialization and stable development. Even in Indonesia, technocrats like Widjojo Nitisastro and the ‘Berkeley Mafia’ played a crucial role in stabilizing the New Order economy, despite being under Suharto’s authoritarianism.
In the post-1998 Reform era, technocracy began to be integrated within the framework of democracy. From Boediono to Sri Mulyani, technocrats have led fiscal policies and development planning with principles of prudence and sustainability. Ministries and agencies, such as Bappenas, the Ministry of Finance, and LIPI, play a crucial role in formulating various development plans and translating political visions into the framework of government policies and national priorities.
Democracy is not just about the voice of the majority, but the courage to listen to the voice of the minority based on evidence, research, and field experience.
However, signs of regression have begun to strengthen over the past 5-6 years. During Jokowi’s second term, a significant shift occurred: strategic positions began to be dominated by coalition political actors, and transactional relationships became increasingly pronounced. Planning ministries, such as Bappenas, started to lose their bargaining power in determining the direction of development. Political pragmatism has overshadowed rational-technocratic planning.
Now, under Prabowo’s administration, those concerns have reached a nadir. Prabowo’s centralistic and militaristic leadership style has led to a tendency: the concentration of power in the figure of the President, and the weakening of the deliberative process in policy formulation. Populist programs, such as MBG and three million free houses, for instance, are being implemented without in-depth technocratic studies, driven more by electoral logic than by a solid fiscal and logistical framework.
Clearly, this is not merely a shift in leadership style, but an indication of the weakening of the technocratic institutions that have supported development policies thus far. When technocrats become mere technical implementers rather than strategic policy designers, what is lost is the long-term vision and systemic cohesion in national development. In this condition, what must be done?
Saving technocratism
Saving the dying—if not already dead—technocracy in this republic requires hard work from two sides.
From a technocratic perspective, they must step out of their academic comfort zone. Communication with policymakers needs to be enhanced, not only in the form of technical reports but also through narratives that are understandable and relevant to public interests and political dynamics. Technocrats must learn to understand political realities and adjust their communication styles without compromising their scientific integrity.
A bridge needs to be built between the complexity of policies and the practical needs of decision-makers. Institutions such as the Indonesian Academy of Sciences (AIPI), the Council of Professors (DGB), or various public research institutions (such as SMERU, CSIS, and others) can play an important role in this.
The concept of “organic intellectuals” by Antonio Gramsci (Prison Notebook #12, 1932) refers to the role of intellectuals—and technocrats—who do not stand neutral or separate from society, but are directly bound and actively contribute to their struggles.
Unlike “traditional intellectuals” who tend to maintain the status quo and position themselves as neutral observers, organic intellectuals articulate collective interests, build critical awareness, and become part of social change projects. These are the technocrats—and intellectuals—needed to revive technocratism in development.
Conversely, policymakers need to be more open to data-driven input and criticism. They must view expertise as an asset, not a threat. A strong government is one that dares to be surrounded by intelligent and critical individuals, rather than fearing or threatening them.
Invite technocrats and academics into the circle of power—not merely as consultants—but as part of the government: ministers, directors general, expert staff, or even regional heads. This is not just about policy improvement, but about saving the future of our democracy and development.
Of course, technocratism is not without its flaws. Criticisms of technocratic elitism, exclusivism, and lack of public participation are valid. Jürgen Habermas warns: the dominance of instrumental rationality—where ends are more important than deliberative processes—can erode the public sphere as a venue for democratic discussion (The Theory of Communicative Action, 1981).
Meanwhile, James C Scott (Seeing Like a State, 1988) shows how development projects that are too driven by technocratic logic tend to ignore local knowledge and social complexity, resulting in policy failure even though they appear technically rational.
However, the ideals of technocracy remain relevant, especially regarding evidence-based policy (EBP)—public decision-making based on empirical evidence and systematic evaluation. EBP emphasizes the importance of data, experimentation, and impact evaluation in the process of policy formulation and implementation.
EBP does not eliminate politics; rather, it strengthens the capacity of the state to respond to complex challenges in an adaptive, transparent, and accountable manner. It serves as a bridge between political interests and public rationality.
Looking ahead: democratic technocratism
Therefore, it is not enough to merely save technocracy; it must be renewed. We need a democratic and contextual technocracy: where expertise does not become an ivory tower, but is present within society; where policies are not only about efficiency and growth, but also about justice, participation, and sustainability.
This model requires technocrats to simplify language, increase empathy, and open dialogue with citizens and policymakers.
This renewal simultaneously demands political courage. A strong government is not one that silences criticism, but one that is capable of inviting constructive tension between idealism and reality. Democracy is not only about the majority’s voice, but also about the courage to listen to the minority’s voice based on evidence, research, and field experience. Opening space for technocrats and academics in strategic positions is not a threat to stability, but a foundation for building resilient governance.
If policies are allowed to be driven solely by political intuition without corrections from knowledge, evidence, and data, what emerges is not a strong government, but a fragile government that is easily shaken by crises. Without long-term planning, the state will always be reactive; without data and evaluation, policies will lose direction; without expert voices, development will lose substance.
Therefore, the stakes are not merely about which is stronger or more influential—technocrats or politicians—but rather our own future: do we want to build a strong republic grounded in common sense, or do we want to allow the nation to drift in improvisation without a guiding compass for direction and action?
The choice is not in the hands of the president and the ministers, but in our hands—the public that dares to demand development policies that are rational, just, and evidence-based.
