[Part 3]A good democracy embodies several essential elements that ensure it functions effectively and fairly. Firstly, transparency is fundamental; governments must openly share information about their decisions and actions so that citizens can understand and scrutinise the processes affecting their lives. Accountability follows closely, requiring that those in power are answerable to the people through legal, political, and ethical means, ensuring they can be held responsible for their conduct and policies. Additionally, participation is vital, allowing all eligible citizens to have equal opportunities to engage in political processes, such as voting or running for office, thereby fostering inclusiveness. The rule of law underpins these elements by guaranteeing that laws are applied equally and justly to everyone, safeguarding rights and liberties. Lastly, respect for human rights and freedoms, including freedom of expression, association, and the press, ensures that diverse voices can be heard and protected within the democratic framework.A good democracy includes not only transparency and accountability but also several other crucial elements. One such element is the rule of law, which ensures that laws are applied fairly and consistently to all citizens without discrimination, reinforcing justice and legal certainty. Another important factor is public participation, which means citizens have the right and opportunity to engage actively in the political process, including decision-making and policy formulation. Inclusiveness and equity are also vital, guaranteeing that all groups, including minorities and marginalised communities, have their voices heard and their rights protected. Responsiveness is an additional element, where the government must be attentive and capable of addressing the needs and concerns of its people in a timely and effective manner. Lastly, good governance requires consensus orientation, implying that decisions are made through dialogue and cooperation, seeking common ground for the collective benefit of society.In a democracy, the public possesses a range of rights that safeguard their dignity, freedom, and participation in political life. People are entitled to freedom of speech, which allows them to express their views openly without fear of censorship or persecution. They also hold the right to assemble peacefully, creating opportunities to organise demonstrations, public debates, and gatherings that shape the direction of society. The right to vote remains central, granting every eligible citizen the power to influence the government through fair elections, while the right to stand for office ensures that leadership is open to all rather than reserved for a privileged elite. Moreover, individuals enjoy the protection of law, meaning they cannot be arbitrarily detained or denied justice, and they benefit from equality before the law regardless of background, gender, or belief. Access to information is another fundamental democratic right, for without transparency, citizens cannot hold power to account. In essence, democracy equips the public with the tools to resist tyranny, demand accountability, and live as active participants rather than passive subjects.
Yet, freedom of expression in a democracy is never absolute, because its exercise must balance with the rights and safety of others. People are free to criticise governments, leaders, or institutions, but they are not entitled to incite violence, spread hatred, or endanger public security. Laws against defamation, slander, and incitement exist to protect individuals and communities from harm while still safeguarding open debate. Freedom of expression also does not grant a licence to spread deliberate falsehoods that may destabilise society, for misinformation and disinformation can undermine democracy itself. In short, democracy values free speech as a cornerstone, yet it also recognises that responsibility must walk hand in hand with liberty.In Western democracies such as those in Europe and the United States, freedom of expression is often interpreted in a very expansive way, sometimes even allowing speech that many people might find deeply offensive. For example, in the United States the First Amendment protects almost all forms of speech, including harsh criticism of religion, government, or ideology, so long as it does not directly incite violence. European countries, however, tend to place slightly stricter limits, particularly when it comes to hate speech, Holocaust denial, or the glorification of terrorism, arguing that such expressions can threaten public order and undermine human dignity. This shows that while both Western models value free speech, they balance it differently depending on historical experience and cultural sensitivities.The philosophical purpose of freedom of expression is to create a society in which ideas can compete peacefully, where truth emerges not through force but through dialogue. It assumes that humans, as rational beings, are capable of reasoning and discernment; thus, silencing opinion would be an insult to human intellect. Democracy cherishes debate because it refines collective wisdom, exposing errors and allowing improvement. Yet, when expression turns into degradation—when words humiliate, exploit, or moralise hate—it ceases to serve the democratic ideal. Hence, freedom of speech is not a wild licence but a disciplined liberty, designed to protect human conscience while nurturing the moral health of the community.The philosophical purpose of freedom of expression is to create a society in which ideas can compete peacefully, where truth emerges not through force but through dialogue. It assumes that humans, as rational beings, are capable of reasoning and discernment; thus, silencing opinion would be an insult to human intellect. Democracy cherishes debate because it refines collective wisdom, exposing errors and allowing improvement. Yet, when expression turns into degradation—when words humiliate, exploit, or moralise hate—it ceases to serve the democratic ideal. Hence, freedom of speech is not a wild licence but a disciplined liberty, designed to protect human conscience while nurturing the moral health of the community.John Stuart Mill, in his seminal work On Liberty (1859, John W. Parker and Son), offered one of the most profound philosophical defences of freedom of expression. Mill argued that silencing an opinion is a peculiar form of robbery: it steals not only the speaker’s right to speak but also the listener’s opportunity to hear. For Mill, truth emerges from the clash of ideas—he believed that even false opinions have value, because they force society to re-examine what it holds to be true. However, Mill also introduced a crucial limitation known as the harm principle: liberty must only extend until it causes harm to others. In other words, one may speak freely so long as one’s words do not inflict physical or moral injury upon others. Thus, for Mill, freedom of expression is both an intellectual and moral discipline—a means to cultivate wisdom, not recklessness.Alexis de Tocqueville, in Democracy in America (1835, Charles Gosselin), approached the issue from a more social and psychological perspective. He admired the democratic spirit of open discussion but warned that in mass societies, freedom of expression could easily be stifled not by law but by the tyranny of majority opinion. Tocqueville observed that people in democracies tend to fear social exclusion more than government punishment, and so they self-censor to avoid offending public sentiment. For him, true freedom of expression requires moral courage—the bravery to stand apart from the crowd and speak one’s conscience. Tocqueville thus saw free speech as a moral test of character: it measures a society’s capacity to tolerate difference, to protect minority voices, and to defend truth even when it is unpopular.Jürgen Habermas, in his influential work The Theory of Communicative Action (1981, Suhrkamp Verlag), redefined freedom of expression as the lifeblood of what he called the “public sphere.” For Habermas, democracy thrives not through mere voting but through continuous dialogue where citizens deliberate rationally and respectfully. Freedom of expression, therefore, is not an individual weapon but a collective instrument that allows truth to emerge through reasoned communication. He believed that speech must be guided by sincerity, mutual respect, and openness to criticism—only then can democratic discourse lead to legitimate consensus. When expression becomes manipulative or deceitful, it ceases to serve democracy and turns instead into propaganda. Habermas’s vision links freedom of expression to ethical communication, making it both a moral and civic duty rather than a mere right.Amartya Sen, in Development as Freedom (1999, Oxford University Press), approached the question from a human development perspective. He argued that freedom of expression is not only a political value but a developmental necessity. Societies that silence dissent, he wrote, often suffer from poor governance and social stagnation, while those that encourage open discussion foster innovation and accountability. Sen famously pointed out that “no substantial famine has ever occurred in a functioning democracy,” because free press and open debate force governments to act. For Sen, freedom of expression enables people to question, to learn, and to influence policies that shape their lives—it is both a safeguard against oppression and a stimulus for progress. Thus, the purpose of free expression is not chaos, but collective growth through shared understanding.The philosophical understanding of freedom of expression has evolved remarkably from the classical liberal thinkers of the nineteenth century to the contemporary theorists of the modern age. John Stuart Mill and Alexis de Tocqueville saw freedom of expression primarily as a shield against tyranny—whether from the state or from social conformity. For them, the purpose of speech was to protect individuality and to ensure that truth could survive the pressures of authority and public opinion. Mill believed that truth emerged from the collision of ideas, while Tocqueville feared that democracy itself could silence dissent through the invisible force of majority opinion. In their era, freedom of expression was largely a moral defence of the individual mind against collective power.By contrast, Jürgen Habermas and Amartya Sen shifted the debate from individual liberty to collective reason and social progress. For Habermas, free expression was not just about resisting power but about creating legitimate power through rational communication. He viewed speech as the core mechanism by which citizens build mutual understanding and democratic legitimacy. Amartya Sen, meanwhile, expanded the idea further: to him, freedom of expression was a tool of development, essential for justice, accountability, and the prevention of human suffering. Where Mill saw expression as a battlefield of ideas, Sen saw it as the foundation of human flourishing.The classical thinkers defended the right to speak, while the modern thinkers explored the responsibility to communicate. Mill and Tocqueville fought for freedom as protection; Habermas and Sen reimagined it as participation. The shift reflects how democracy itself has matured—from guarding the individual against oppression to empowering citizens to co-create meaning, justice, and progress. What unites them all, however, is a shared conviction that speech is not mere noise—it is the essence of human dignity and the heartbeat of a free society.Freedom of expression, at its deepest philosophical level, serves as a bridge between ethics, politics, and humanity. It is not merely the right to voice one’s opinion, but a moral responsibility to ensure that speech contributes to the common good. Ethically, it demands honesty, respect, and the courage to confront falsehoods while refraining from harming others. Politically, it underpins the legitimacy of democracy: governments and institutions are held accountable only when citizens can speak openly, challenge authority, and participate in reasoned debate. Humanly, it affirms our dignity, recognizing each person as capable of thought, judgment, and moral discernment. In this sense, freedom of expression is both a mirror and a compass: it reflects the state of society’s conscience while guiding it toward justice, knowledge, and mutual understanding.A society that cherishes free expression is a society that trusts its people. It assumes that humans are rational, capable of dialogue, and invested in the welfare of others. Conversely, when speech is stifled—whether by law, social pressure, or fear—the moral, political, and human fabric of society begins to fray. The philosophical message is clear: freedom of expression is not a license for chaos or offence, but a disciplined liberty that cultivates wisdom, accountability, and human flourishing. It is the lifeblood of a society that aspires to justice, empathy, and progress.Freedom of the press is intimately connected to freedom of expression and human rights, forming one of the cornerstones of a democratic society. Press freedom is essentially an institutional extension of the individual’s right to speak: it allows journalists, editors, and media organisations to investigate, report, and comment on public affairs without undue interference. Without a free press, freedom of expression is severely curtailed, because speech loses its amplification and social impact. The press serves as both a watchdog and a platform: it monitors government and corporate power while providing citizens with information needed to make informed decisions, thereby upholding their human rights.Moreover, press freedom is intrinsically linked to other human rights. For example, the right to information, the right to participate in political life, and even the right to education are all strengthened when the media can operate independently. Historical examples, from the muckraking journalism of the early 20th century in the United States to the role of independent media in the fall of authoritarian regimes in Eastern Europe, show that societies with robust press freedom tend to enjoy greater transparency, accountability, and respect for human dignity. In essence, freedom of the press is not merely about newspapers or television; it is a tangible instrument through which freedom of expression becomes collective, public, and effective in protecting all citizens’ rights.Philosophically, the purpose of press freedom in a democracy is to act as a guardian of truth, a platform for public deliberation, and a check on power. The press exists not merely to report events, but to foster an informed citizenry capable of participating meaningfully in the political and social life of the nation. By exposing corruption, challenging injustice, and providing diverse viewpoints, a free press strengthens the moral and intellectual foundations of democracy. It allows society to test ideas, confront uncomfortable realities, and ensure that governance remains accountable to the people. In essence, press freedom transforms individual freedom of expression into a collective force for justice, transparency, and civic empowerment.However, press freedom is not without limits. Philosophical and practical boundaries exist where the exercise of this freedom could harm public order, endanger individuals, or infringe upon other fundamental rights. Incitement to violence, deliberate dissemination of false information, and breaches of privacy are typically recognised as legitimate constraints. Ethical journalism also imposes internal boundaries: accuracy, fairness, and respect for human dignity guide responsible reporting. Therefore, while the press serves as a pillar of democratic liberty, it carries the moral responsibility to exercise freedom judiciously, balancing the right to inform with the duty not to harm.In the context of Indonesia, the controversy surrounding Mas Wapres' educational credentials serves as a pertinent example of how press freedom can be tested and, at times, strained. The Kompas media group, a prominent player in the Indonesian media landscape, reported extensively on the issue, particularly focusing on the legal challenges and public discourse surrounding Gibran's high school diploma. While the media's role is to inform the public, the manner in which information is presented is equally crucial.Critics argue that some media outlets, including those within the Kompas group, may have exhibited a bias in their reporting, potentially leaning towards defending Gibran. This perceived bias raises questions about journalistic objectivity and adherence to the framework which is fundamental in ensuring comprehensive and balanced news coverage. Concerns have been raised that the media's portrayal of the issue may have lacked critical analysis and failed to provide a platform for diverse perspectives, thereby not fully serving the public's right to know.Such instances underscore the delicate balance that media outlets must maintain between exercising their freedom to report and upholding their ethical responsibilities. While press freedom is a cornerstone of democracy, media organisations must remain vigilant in ensuring that their reporting is fair, accurate, and serves the public interest, rather than becoming a tool for political or personal agendas.In summary, a good democracy thrives on transparency, accountability, rule of law, participation, inclusiveness, responsiveness, and consensus, all working together to create a fair, just, and effective governance system.
In established democracies, the culture of governance and civic engagement is often grounded in the principle of accountability to the law, transparency, and active citizen participation. Citizens are expected to question authority, debate policy, and hold leaders responsible for their decisions. By contrast, the “asal bapak senang” mindset in Indonesia reflects a form of hierarchical deference where decisions are shaped less by law or public interest and more by the desire to satisfy those in power. Philosophically, this undermines the very essence of democracy, because it substitutes critical deliberation with personal loyalty, and collective judgment with the whims of authority. Where mature democracies cultivate debate, dissent, and institutional checks, a culture of appeasement fosters passivity, compliance, and the risk of authoritarian drift.
The phrase “asal bapak senang,” which can be roughly translated as “as long as the boss is pleased,” embodies a mindset that prioritises appeasing authority over principle, reason, or collective interest. Philosophically, this attitude runs counter to the fundamental ideals of democracy, which depend on active participation, accountability, and equality. Democracy thrives when citizens can voice opinions, challenge power, and debate policies without fear of reprisal. A culture of “asal bapak senang” discourages critical thinking, stifles dissent, and reduces governance to the whims of a single individual or elite, rather than a process guided by laws, norms, and public deliberation. In this sense, it subverts the moral and civic foundations of democracy, promoting conformity and loyalty to authority over justice, transparency, and the common good.Furthermore, “asal bapak senang” undermines the mechanisms of checks and balances. In a functioning democracy, freedom of expression, press freedom, and public scrutiny are essential tools for preventing the abuse of power. When decisions are made primarily to please a figure of authority, these tools lose their effectiveness, and the risk of corruption, nepotism, and arbitrary governance rises. Therefore, the mindset embedded in “asal bapak senang” is not merely socially limiting—it is politically corrosive, eroding the very principles upon which democratic societies are built.Practically, the consequences are significant. In systems dominated by “asal bapak senang,” media and civil society may hesitate to question officials, public policies may be skewed toward elite interests, and corruption can flourish unchecked. This contrasts sharply with democracies where the press operates independently, citizens freely express dissent, and governance mechanisms are designed to prevent the concentration of power. Philosophically and practically, the comparison highlights that a culture of unquestioning deference erodes democratic norms, whereas the democratic ideal relies on scrutiny, debate, and accountability to maintain justice, transparency, and collective welfare.Once we step outside Indonesia, we quickly see that “asal bapak senang” is not a uniquely Indonesian quirk, but a universal syndrome that flourishes wherever power is concentrated and truth is filtered upward.In China, for example, local officials are notorious for massaging statistics to satisfy Beijing. During Mao’s Great Leap Forward, provincial cadres routinely reported inflated harvest figures to show their loyalty and enthusiasm. The result was catastrophic: central planners believed the glowing reports, set impossible grain requisition targets, and triggered one of the worst famines in human history. Even today, scholars note how GDP data from provinces often appears suspiciously uniform, reflecting a culture where numbers must make “the centre” happy rather than reveal uncomfortable truths. This is “asal bapak senang” with deadly consequences.Russia under Vladimir Putin provides another case. Regional governors and state enterprises often stage-manage success stories, from economic growth figures to grand infrastructure openings, in order to maintain the illusion of control and strength. Bad news is suppressed, whistleblowers are silenced, and critical journalists face intimidation. The Kremlin’s obsession with optics—whether through choreographed press conferences or carefully edited footage—shows how “pleasing the boss” has become a structural mode of governance. The real problems, such as corruption or decaying infrastructure, are papered over to avoid disturbing the image of the “strong father.”In corporate America, the same logic drove the infamous Enron scandal in the early 2000s. Executives rewarded managers who produced glowing forecasts, even if they were built on accounting tricks. Employees, eager to impress their superiors, went along with the façade. Investors bought into the hype, but when reality finally broke through, the company collapsed overnight, wiping out billions. Once again, we see that “asal bapak senang” is not just about culture—it’s about incentives that reward appearances while punishing honesty.Even in more subtle forms, this syndrome plays out in modern tech firms. At companies like Facebook (now Meta), internal researchers warned about the harmful effects of social media on mental health and democracy, but their findings were often downplayed or buried because they did not align with the leadership’s vision. The instinct to filter information upwards to keep the “boss” aligned with their preferred narrative mirrors the same logic: harmony above honesty.All of this suggests that “asal bapak senang” is not a relic of old hierarchies, but a recurring human pattern. Whether in authoritarian states, corporate boardrooms, or even start-up cultures obsessed with “hustle optics,” the temptation to polish reality for the sake of authority is powerful. The phrase might be Indonesian, but the practice is global—proof that wherever hierarchy meets fragile egos, the truth is always at risk of being rewritten.The distinction between “asal bapak senang” as a mere phrase and as an embedded cultural practice lies in repetition, institutionalisation, and social expectation. Initially, the term may have been used colloquially to describe a single behaviour: a subordinate pleasing a superior in a particular instance, such as polishing a report or exaggerating a success. At this stage, it is an idiom or a descriptive label—a way to comment on observable behaviour without implying systemic consequence.
However, when the behaviour becomes patterned, expected, and socially reinforced across multiple actors and situations, it transcends the level of a simple phrase and becomes a cultural norm or habit. For instance, if civil servants routinely report only positive outcomes to satisfy their superiors, if project teams repeatedly stage-manage results, or if media outlets curate narratives primarily to appease political leaders, then the principle of “asal bapak senang” is embedded into organisational logic. At this point, it is no longer just a term—it is a habitual culture, shaping incentives, decision-making, and interpersonal dynamics.
Indicators that the term has evolved into culture include:
- Predictability: People expect the behaviour as the default; deviation is surprising or punished.
- Reinforcement: Rewards and punishments systematically favour those who comply with the “pleasing authority” logic.
- Permeation: The practice extends beyond isolated incidents to influence politics, workplaces, social interactions, and media.
- Internalisation: Individuals begin to self-censor or pre-emptively conform because they internalise the expectation of keeping superiors happy.
Thus, “asal bapak senang” is a term when it describes a single act or anecdote; it becomes a cultural pattern when it structures everyday life, guides behaviour consistently, and shapes systemic outcomes.
Now, let’s follow the thread of “asal bapak senang” down to the contemporary, everyday level, showing how it shapes individual behaviour, organisational patterns, and even digital culture.At the individual level, people often internalise the expectation of pleasing authority early in their careers or social lives. Employees, students, or junior officials quickly learn that voicing uncomfortable truths can backfire, while flattering superiors or emphasising successes is rewarded. Over time, this shapes habits of self-censorship, selective reporting, and performance-oriented behaviour. Individuals become adept at reading the mood of their leaders, anticipating preferences, and filtering their own communication accordingly. The result is that honesty, innovation, and critical thinking are subordinated to maintaining harmony and securing personal advancement.Within organisations, “asal bapak senang” creates systemic consequences. Decisions are made not purely on data or evidence, but on what will satisfy superiors or project a positive image externally. Reports and presentations are often polished to highlight achievements while downplaying problems. This encourages a culture of risk aversion, where initiatives that might expose flaws or failures are avoided, and resources are diverted toward visible, photogenic accomplishments rather than substantive long-term solutions. In bureaucracies and corporations alike, this produces a cycle: success is measured less by results than by proximity to authority, and inefficiencies persist because the mechanisms for feedback and accountability are muted.In digital spaces, the dynamic takes on new forms. Social media amplifies the performative aspect of “asal bapak senang”, as loyalists, followers, or employees curate content to protect or glorify their leaders online. Press releases, campaign materials, and online buzz are orchestrated to produce a flawless narrative, often drowning out dissent or inconvenient facts. Even ordinary users may hesitate to post critical observations, anticipating social or professional repercussions. The effect is a highly visible but artificially unified story, where the leader’s image is preserved at the cost of transparency, dialogue, and civic scrutiny.The impact of “asal bapak senang” across these levels demonstrates that what begins as a seemingly simple behaviour—flattering the boss or avoiding bad news—can ripple outward, influencing how organisations function, how society perceives authority, and how knowledge and truth are shared. In modern Indonesia, and indeed in many hierarchical systems worldwide, the phrase remains a lens for understanding the interplay between individual psychology, social incentives, and institutional culture. It is a reminder that culture is not just a set of customs, but a living system that shapes what people dare to say, do, and imagine.When public officials prioritise pleasing superiors over addressing real problems, policy outcomes can suffer dramatically. Budgets may be allocated to high-visibility projects that look good in reports or on media, while urgent but less glamorous issues—like infrastructure maintenance, rural healthcare, or environmental management—are neglected. Decisions driven by optics rather than evidence tend to produce inefficiencies, waste, and public dissatisfaction. Citizens eventually sense the mismatch between official narratives and lived reality, eroding trust in institutions. In this sense, “asal bapak senang” is not just a workplace quirk; it has concrete implications for governance and social welfare.In organisational settings, the culture of pleasing superiors can stifle innovation and reduce productivity. Employees learn that it is safer to deliver safe, conventional ideas than to propose unconventional solutions that might expose problems or fail visibly. Teams spend more energy on image management—polishing presentations, rehearsing speeches, curating metrics—than on solving core challenges. Over time, this creates systemic inefficiencies: talented individuals may leave, morale drops, and the organisation becomes reactive rather than proactive. The persistence of performative compliance can turn potential into stagnation, as the real needs of clients, citizens, or stakeholders are subordinated to the appearance of success.Societal trust is affected when the culture of “asal bapak senang” permeates public life. Media reports, government communications, and corporate statements may all be tailored to protect authority and maintain harmony, even at the expense of transparency. People learn to read between the lines, growing sceptical of official claims. Public debate becomes constrained, as dissenting voices are marginalised and collective problem-solving suffers. The long-term result is a society that is cautious, cynical, and dependent on social cues to navigate authority rather than relying on clear, trustworthy information.Ultimately, “asal bapak senang” is more than a phrase—it is a structural dynamic that shapes decision-making, organisational culture, and civic life. By privileging the comfort of authority over truth, it diminishes accountability, weakens institutions, and slows progress. Recognising this pattern is the first step toward change: fostering transparency, rewarding constructive criticism, and building systems that value substance over spectacle can gradually replace performative compliance with genuine effectiveness. The phrase, therefore, remains profoundly relevant: it is both a warning and a mirror, reflecting how societies and organisations handle power, honesty, and collective responsibility.Next, we will delve into Benedict R. O’G. Anderson’s book “The Idea of Power in Javanese Culture”, exploring its insights and analysing the sections that reveal how traditional Javanese notions of authority continue to shape political behaviour and communication in Indonesia today.
[Part 1]
