Why Is the Coffee Machine in Your Office Worth More Than Your Car?

In a country that prizes appearances above almost everything else, like Indonesia, someone put up a hand and asked a question that sounded perfectly simple: "Why is the coffee machine in your office worth more than your car?" The room fell silent. Not because the question was difficult to answer, but because it touched on something everyone had quietly agreed never to mention, rather like the family scandal tucked away in the bottom drawer and secured with a certified padlock.

The coffee machine stood magnificently in the corner of the office. Its body gleamed, its lights twinkled like a modern-day altar, and every morning people gathered around it in reverent hush, as though the quality of the drink it produced might decide the future of the nation. Some bowed their heads before pressing a button. Others whispered, "Don't touch that one; it's a limited edition." Meanwhile, the old car in the car park simply did what it was meant to do: carry people from one place to another, with no flashing lights, no ceremony, and no expectation of praise. The irony was that the coffee machine was the one that commanded respect.

Before long, the country was full of coffee machines. There was the coffee machine called the title, worn after one's name and carried everywhere like a piece of jewellery. There was the coffee machine called the certificate, framed in gold and hung at eye level so that no visitor could possibly miss it. The coffee machine called the official stamp was said to turn an ordinary sheet of paper into the truth with a single press. And there was the coffee machine called reputation, the dearest and most frequently polished of all, although nobody could remember when it had last brewed anything at all.

Among all these machines, one was truly special: the coffee machine called the degree certificate. It took the form of a thick sheet of paper with convincing ink, a gleaming crest and a signature that curled most elegantly. Its owner stood tall at the lectern and described himself as a graduate in a tone that left no room for doubt. But if anyone was impertinent enough to ask which lecture hall he had sat in, which professor had ever examined him, or which dissertation he had defended, he always answered with a lengthy discourse on the quality of the paper, the weight of the ink, and the astonishing cost of printing. In fact, stables of "buzzers" were even deployed to spin out the narrative, even though these operatives turned out to be utterly dim-witted.

Some of them did not even bother to forge the paper. With nothing but unshakeable confidence, they declared themselves graduates, even though the requirements had never been met: courses unfinished, examinations never sat, obligations never discharged. They were like people announcing that they had arrived at their destination while their car still sat on the drive with a flat tyre. Remarkably, the applause thundered on regardless. Everyone was so dazzled by the machine's shine that nobody could be bothered to check whether there was any water inside it, or any beans, or merely a light bulb that blinked rather well.

Nobody truly knew how these machines were made. Nobody dared to lift the lid. Nobody wished to inspect the wiring, because who knew whether they would find wires at all, rather than cardboard sprayed silver? And so everyone agreed to praise the shiny exterior and nothing more, since praising was far cheaper than examining, and far safer than asking.

When someone asked whether the machine actually worked as it should, the keepers of the building promptly explained the specification of the paint on its surface. When someone asked to see inside, they pointed out how expensive the frame had been. When someone questioned where it had come from, they explained how many people had photographed it, complete with the number of followers and likes. Within days, the questioner was branded rude, unpatriotic and disrespectful of other people's achievements. As if popularity could stand in for authenticity. As if price could stand in for proof. As if display could stand in for substance.

In this country, the truth was treated like the old car. It did not gleam. It did not draw attention. It was not displayed in the main hall, and nobody wanted to be photographed beside it. People only remembered it when the coffee machines began to break down and everyone suddenly needed a lift. Yet it was, in fact, the only thing capable of getting anyone to where they were going.

A coffee machine, however costly, remains a coffee machine. It may produce a lovely aroma, create a cosy atmosphere and even make people feel more confident. A holder of some dubious degree certificate can look wonderfully learned under the right lighting. But it will never take anyone anywhere. A qualification that was never earned will be of no help when a bridge needs calculating, a patient needs treating or the law needs upholding. At such moments, a stamped piece of paper will serve only as a fan, and not a very effective one at that.

Perhaps that is why the question "why is the coffee machine in your office worth more than your car?" feels so unsettling. For it is not really about coffee machines at all. It asks why we spend so much energy guarding symbols while the vehicle that ought to carry us towards the truth is left to rust in the back garden. It asks why we are willing to pay handsomely to appear to have passed, yet unwilling to pay the price of actually learning.

And like every good question, it demands no immediate answer. It simply asks us to look again at what we have been taught to treasure. So tomorrow morning, as you stand in reverent silence before your office's pride and joy, try lifting the lid just once. If all you find is cardboard sprayed silver and a certificate that never passed its exams, do not be shocked. Simply brew your disappointment, add a little sugar, and walk out to the car park. The old car is still waiting, and it has never pretended to be anything other than itself.

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A Change of Indonesian Police Chief: A Moment for Institutional Renewal and Public Expectations of Law Enforcement

1. Introduction

Leadership determines the direction and quality of an institution. In the right hands, an organisation can become more agile, more honest and more trusted. Weak leadership, by contrast, can leave an institution adrift, however great the resources and powers at its disposal. For that reason, any change at the very top deserves to be read more closely than as a mere administrative event.

In Indonesia, the National Police (Polri) plays an especially strategic role. It safeguards security and public order and, at the same time, enforces the law, coming into direct contact with the public every day. Almost every citizen has dealt, or will one day deal, with the police: reporting a lost document, filing a complaint as a victim, driving along a main road, or facing legal proceedings. It is these small encounters that shape how people see the state and the law.

Given that position, a change of National Police Chief (Kapolri) is never regarded as an ordinary rotation of posts. It always draws public attention, raises fresh hopes and offers an opportunity to assess the direction and performance of the police service. This article reads the change of Kapolri as a moment for institutional renewal: what meaning the public attaches to it, what hopes accompany it, what challenges lie ahead, and what yardstick should be used to judge its success.

 

2. A Change of Kapolri as a Normal Part of State Organisation

At bottom, a change of leadership is a normal part of the life of any state organisation. No post is meant to be held for ever. Generational renewal at the top makes room to refresh policy, take stock of what has been achieved, acknowledge remaining shortcomings and adjust strategy to ever-evolving challenges.

Every leader brings a different style, set of priorities and outlook. Some excel at internal consolidation, some stand out for innovation, and others are adept at building rapport with the public. A change of leader allows an institution to draw on new energy without abandoning the foundations already laid. What is hoped for is continuity in what works well, together with the courage to correct what has not yet been done as it should.

Within this framework, a change of Kapolri is best understood as part of the machinery of institutional renewal, not simply as a political event or a swap of personalities. Its value will be felt only if it is followed by real change in working culture, the quality of service and the way the institution treats the people it serves.

 

3. The Departure of Listyo Sigit and the Meaning the Public Attaches to It

Although such a change is organisationally routine, the replacement of Kapolri Listyo Sigit carries a wider significance for many people. They read it as a signal that President Prabowo is willing to listen to the voices that have long echoed in the public sphere. The criticisms, hopes and aspirations voiced by the public over the past few years are seen as having found a response in this decision.

Whether or not that perception is correct, it is worth noting. Public perception is a social reality that shapes how people judge their government and its institutions. It shows that people want leaders who are attuned to the voice of the people and who do not turn a deaf ear to calls for change. In a democracy, that kind of responsiveness is one measure of the quality of leadership.

A distinction should also be drawn between perception and certainty. The true reasons behind a decision to replace an office-holder are known only to those who made it. The public's reading should therefore be treated as interpretation and expectation, not as settled fact. Yet precisely because that interpretation is alive in society, both the government and the new police leadership have good reason to answer it with tangible results.

What is at stake, then, is not merely who occupies the highest post in Polri, but the institution's capacity to keep improving itself, raise its professionalism and strengthen public trust.

 

4. Public Expectations of the New Kapolri

Public expectations of the new Kapolri can be summarised under five main headings. They are closely intertwined and hard to separate from one another.

 

4.1 Strengthening Professionalism

Professionalism is the first foundation. The new Kapolri is expected to foster a working culture in which merit and integrity are the main basis for developing officers' careers. When promotions and postings rest on ability and track record, officers are encouraged to work conscientiously. Where closeness to the powerful counts for more, the spirit of professionalism easily fades.

Professionalism also means ensuring that the law is enforced fairly and consistently. The public will judge Polri by one simple question: is the law applied equally to everyone, regardless of office, wealth or proximity to power? Consistency in answering that question is far more convincing than any statement.

 

4.2 Raising Public Trust

Public trust is the principal asset of any police service. Without it, citizens are reluctant to come forward, cooperation in preventing crime weakens, and every action by an officer is met with suspicion. Trust cannot be demanded; it can only be built through consistent experience.

Transparency in handling cases, openness of information and swift responses to public complaints are therefore demands that keep resurfacing. People who file a report have a right to know how it is progressing. People who lodge a complaint have a right to a clear reply. These apparently simple matters, if carried out consistently, have a considerable effect on the institution's image.

 

4.3 Reinforcing Internal Oversight

No institution is perfect. Every large organisation will have members who make mistakes. What distinguishes a trusted institution from a distrusted one is how it responds to those mistakes. The public hopes that every violation by a Polri officer will be dealt with firmly and openly, rather than being covered up in the name of protecting the institution's reputation.

Strong internal oversight is the foundation of institutional credibility. Ironically, an institution that is willing to expose and punish its own wrongdoing is often respected more than one that appears spotless but is closed. Openness in enforcing discipline is evidence that the institution respects the law, even when the offender is one of its own.

 

4.4 Being Ready for the Digital Age

Technology has changed the face of crime. From online fraud to transnational cybercrime, offenders can now operate remotely, conceal their identities and reach many victims at once. These forms of crime demand capabilities different from those needed to tackle conventional offences.

Polri needs to strengthen its capacity through innovation, better training of its personnel and the appropriate use of technology. The word 'appropriate' matters here: technology should be used to enhance service and protect the public, not merely as a badge of modernisation. Good digital capability will also help Polri to provide services that are easier to access and more accountable.

 

4.5 Putting a Humane Approach First

The public wants a police force that is firm and humane at the same time. Firmness and humanity need not be set against each other. A humane officer is not a weak one, but one who enforces the law in a way that respects human dignity.

An approach that puts service, dialogue and the protection of citizens first will strengthen relations between Polri and the community. When people feel they are treated with respect, they are more willing to cooperate. In the long run, a humane approach actually makes law enforcement more effective, because it is underpinned by trust and public participation.

 

5. The Challenges Ahead

Expectations on this scale are naturally accompanied by formidable challenges. At least three stand out for the new Kapolri.

 

5.1 The Growing Complexity of Crime

Crime is becoming more complex in its methods, its networks and the means it uses. Effective law enforcement demands analytical ability, coordination across agencies and speed of action. Polri must keep adapting so as not to be left behind by evolving criminal methods.

 

5.2 Demands for Transparency and a Balance of Rights

Public demands for transparency are growing stronger. People are no longer satisfied with the outcome alone; they also want to know the process behind it. At the same time, Polri must strike a balance between enforcing the law and protecting citizens' rights. Efforts to punish crime must not come at the expense of human rights, just as the protection of rights must not become an excuse for weakening enforcement. Maintaining this balance requires judgement, clear rules and effective oversight.

 

5.3 The Glare of Social Media

Social media means that any action by an officer can instantly come under public scrutiny. A short video can spread within hours and shape broad opinion, sometimes before the facts are fully known. This can act as a useful check, but it also calls for care in how it is handled.

In these circumstances, the ability to build accountability and communicate well is crucial. Polri needs to explain its actions quickly, honestly and in terms people can follow, and to be willing to acknowledge and put right any errors. Defensive communication tends to deepen suspicion, whereas open communication helps to restore trust.

 

6. The Role of Different Parties in Seeing Renewal Through

Institutional renewal cannot be left to one person alone. The Kapolri certainly holds the reins of leadership, but changing an organisation's culture requires the involvement of the whole force, from senior commanders to officers on the beat. Change that goes no further than statements will not be felt by the public.

Civil society, the media, academics and oversight bodies, for their part, have an important role in monitoring the process. Constructive criticism, objective scrutiny and recognition of genuine progress are all needed. Healthy external oversight is not a threat to the institution but a partner that helps keep renewal on course.

The government, and the President as the authority who makes the appointment, likewise has an interest in ensuring that the hopes growing in society do not remain mere hopes. Consistent political support for reform efforts will determine how far renewal can go.

 

7. Conclusion

In essence, a change of Kapolri is not merely the replacement of a senior state official, but an opportunity to strengthen the quality of the police institution as a whole. The moment opens the way for fresh ideas, approaches and energy in meeting the challenges facing Polri.

For some members of the public, the change is also a sign that the public voice still counts in the decisions of the state. It is therefore understandable that expectations of the new Kapolri run so high: a leader of integrity, professional, transparent, close to the people and willing to reform the institution from within.

In the end, the success of a Kapolri will be measured not by the extent of the powers held, but by the ability to build public trust. A strong police institution is born not only of the authority conferred by statute, but also of the moral legitimacy that grows out of justice, integrity and service to the community. That is the real test for the new leadership.

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