Before we move on to our main topic, let me tell you:"Some Boy Scouts from the city were on a camping trip. The mosquitoes were so fierce, the boys had to hide under their blankets to avoid being bitten. Then one of the scouts saw some lightning bugs and said to his friend, 'We might as well give up. They’re coming after us with flashlights.'"
[Part 8]Public scepticism regarding Universitas Gadjah Mada’s (UGM) statements about President Jokowi’s alumni status can be logically explained through the framework of conflict of interest outlined by Davis & Stark in Conflict of Interest in the Professions (2001). According to the authors, conflict of interest arises when professional or institutional duties clash with personal, political, or organisational incentives, potentially undermining objectivity and ethical responsibility. In the context of UGM, the university’s dual role as an academic authority and a politically connected institution places it in a position where such conflicts are structurally probable.Firstly, UGM has an ethical obligation to maintain accurate academic records and uphold transparency. However, as an institution with high visibility and numerous high-profile alumni, including the President, it simultaneously faces strong incentives to preserve its reputation, avoid public controversy, and protect institutional authority. Davis & Stark describe this situation as “institutional loyalty conflict,” whereby the interests of the institution may override the impartial application of professional standards. The public’s perception of bias is therefore understandable; if UGM communicates in a manner that appears defensive or selective, citizens may rationally infer that organisational interests are influencing factual disclosure. We can witness the appearance of the UGM Chancellor providing clarification, again and again, only with narrative but without verifiable evidence.Secondly, the entanglement of universities with political structures heightens the probability of perceived bias. In Indonesia, universities like UGM interact closely with government bodies, which may include funding, regulatory compliance, and recognition in national policy spheres. Such entanglement aligns with Davis & Stark’s notion of structural conflict of interest: the organisation’s obligation to truth and objectivity can be compromised, not necessarily by malicious intent, but through systemic pressures that favour political alignment over independent verification. Public scepticism emerges naturally under these conditions, as observers are aware that statements issued by the university might be influenced by its political and social entanglements rather than purely academic considerations.Thirdly, bureaucratic inertia and internal governance dynamics reinforce public doubt. Even in the absence of deliberate falsification, the complex hierarchy and procedural opacity within large institutions can delay, obscure, or filter the release of factual information. Davis & Stark note that structural conflict of interest is often subtle: it does not require intentional wrongdoing, but manifests in decisions that may unintentionally prioritise institutional survival over full transparency. The viral controversy around LISA AI and Jokowi’s alleged alumni status is a prime example of how such structural factors, combined with heightened public scrutiny, create fertile ground for doubt and speculation.In conclusion, from the perspective of Davis & Stark’s theoretical framework, the public’s scepticism towards UGM’s statements is both rational and expected. The intersection of institutional loyalty, political entanglement, and bureaucratic complexity generates conditions in which impartial communication of facts may be compromised. Hence, questioning the reliability of UGM’s statements does not necessarily indicate irrationality or conspiracy-mindedness; rather, it reflects a reasoned response to a situation structurally prone to conflicts of interest.Conflict of interest, commonly abbreviated as COI, occurs when an individual or institution has competing interests that may compromise their professional judgment or the impartiality of their actions. In the academic context, COI arises when universities, faculty members, or administrative bodies face pressures—political, financial, or reputational—that conflict with their duty to maintain objectivity, transparency, and ethical integrity. Davis & Stark (2001) highlight that structural COI in academic institutions does not necessarily imply intentional wrongdoing; rather, it manifests when institutional priorities inadvertently influence decisions, communications, or the handling of information.The case of LISA AI, the artificial intelligence system deployed by Universitas Gadjah Mada (UGM), illustrates how such conflicts of interest can surface in practice. AI systems rely on the datasets, programming, and supervision provided by the institution. In an environment where COI exists, these factors may be influenced—consciously or unconsciously—by institutional pressures. For example, if the university has a vested interest in protecting the reputation of high-profile alumni, staff may inadvertently shape datasets, refine prompts, or interpret AI outputs in ways that align with institutional priorities rather than purely objective truth.Moreover, political entanglements heighten the risk that AI outputs are perceived as biased or controversial. UGM’s position as a prestigious academic institution intertwined with national politics creates systemic pressures for narratives to remain consistent with political expectations. In such a context, even an AI system designed to answer questions factually may produce outputs that are incomplete, ambiguous, or seemingly defensive, simply because the underlying data or oversight reflects the university’s institutional priorities.Bureaucratic complexity further compounds the issue. Large academic institutions often feature hierarchical decision-making and multi-layered approval processes. In the LISA case, outputs that are released publicly may be filtered or modified through these layers, either intentionally to avoid controversy or unintentionally due to procedural norms. Davis & Stark note that structural COI often manifests subtly: outputs or decisions may appear impartial on the surface but are shaped by underlying institutional incentives.Finally, public scrutiny magnifies the perception of COI. When a high-profile figure like President Jokowi is involved, citizens naturally examine any statements or AI-generated outputs closely. Any ambiguity, inconsistency, or selective disclosure is interpreted as evidence of bias, reinforcing the perception that institutional interests—rather than objective truth—dictate communication. The LISA AI controversy is therefore a textbook example of how structural conflicts of interest in academia can interact with technology and public perception to create highly contested narratives.In conclusion, COI in academia is a structural phenomenon that can influence both human and AI-mediated outputs. The LISA case demonstrates that even well-intentioned systems can reflect institutional pressures. Understanding COI, its manifestations, and its effects on perception is essential to evaluating controversies in academic settings, particularly when high-profile stakeholders and politically sensitive issues are involved.The question is, is UGM in a position of structural conflict of interest? The question of whether Universitas Gadjah Mada (UGM) is in a position of structural conflict of interest requires careful examination from an institutional and political perspective. Conflict of interest, as defined in Conflict of Interest in the Professions (Davis & Stark, 2001), arises when an organisation’s institutional goals are at odds with its professional or ethical duties, particularly when external pressures influence internal decision-making. In the case of UGM, the university serves both as a centre of academic excellence and as a highly visible national institution whose alumni include high-profile political figures, such as the President of Indonesia.The dual role of UGM as a guardian of academic integrity and a stakeholder in national politics places it in a structurally sensitive position. On the one hand, the university has an ethical duty to maintain objective academic records and uphold the principles of transparency. On the other hand, it has an institutional incentive to protect its reputation, safeguard relationships with government authorities, and maintain influence in national policy networks. These dual incentives can generate what the literature describes as “institutional loyalty conflicts,” where the preservation of organisational prestige may overshadow the impartial dissemination of facts.Furthermore, the political entanglement of higher education institutions in Indonesia exacerbates the structural conflict of interest. UGM’s relationship with the state is not merely symbolic; it encompasses funding, regulation, and political recognition, which may implicitly pressure the university to align its narratives with national leadership. Such entanglements create a potential environment for biased reporting, selective disclosure of academic records, and cautious communication that prioritises institutional stability over factual transparency.The viral claims regarding LISA AI and the alleged status of President Jokowi exemplify how these structural pressures manifest in public controversy. Whether the claims are accurate or fabricated, the university’s response—perceived by some as defensive or incomplete—can be interpreted through the lens of structural conflict of interest. According to Davis & Stark, an institution in this position may not intentionally falsify records, but the combination of institutional reputation, political entanglement, and bureaucratic inertia can lead to decisions and communications that obscure the objective truth.In conclusion, UGM’s position demonstrates several indicators of structural conflict of interest. The intersection of academic duty, institutional reputation, and political entanglement creates a landscape where public scepticism is rational. From a governance and ethics standpoint, it is reasonable for stakeholders to question whether the university’s communications fully reflect objective academic realities, particularly in matters involving high-profile political alumni.A structural conflict of interest within a university occurs when institutional obligations, incentives, and political relationships intertwine in ways that compromise, or appear to compromise, academic neutrality. If Universitas Gadjah Mada, as one of Indonesia’s most reputable institutions, is perceived to operate under such a conflict, the impact inevitably extends far beyond the confines of its campus.Public trust forms the moral foundation on which the authority of higher-education institutions rests. When a university with UGM’s national standing is suspected of lacking independence in politically sensitive matters, this trust begins to erode. As trust collapses, the credibility of scholarly judgement—whether relating to academic records, research output, or public statements—becomes vulnerable to doubt.The erosion of trust does not remain confined to a single university. UGM’s prestige and symbolic status mean that any perceived deviation from impartiality is generalised across the sector. Other institutions, especially those with fewer resources or weaker governance structures, are assumed to be even more susceptible to external influence.A structural COI also sets a dangerous precedent for governmental or political interference in academia. If a leading institution is perceived to adjust its communication or administrative conduct in response to political sensitivities, it normalises the expectation that academic institutions should align themselves with state narratives rather than objective inquiry.Such normalisation threatens the independence of academic administration. Even routine matters—such as the verification of student records, oversight of faculty appointments, or evaluation of research projects—come to be viewed through a political lens. What should function as neutral administrative procedures become sites of political signalling.Over time, this politicisation undermines institutional legitimacy. Degree certificates, research reports, and public statements lose their standing as products of disinterested academic labour. International partners may begin to question the reliability of academic credentials issued by Indonesian institutions, complicating global collaboration and mobility.
The presence of structural COI may also generate organisational behaviours shaped by fear rather than scholarly commitment. University leaders may prioritise political safety over academic integrity, adopting risk-averse approaches to public communication, research approval, and institutional governance.These pressures can permeate academic culture itself. Scholars may self-censor, avoiding subjects deemed “too sensitive,” not because of explicit censorship but because the institutional environment implicitly discourages open criticism. Such intellectual caution stifles debate, innovation, and the pursuit of truth.The broader research ecosystem is equally affected. Funding decisions, research priorities, and the dissemination of findings may increasingly reflect political considerations. This shift disrupts the essential logic of scientific inquiry, which depends upon methodological autonomy and a culture that rewards intellectual honesty.Structural COI also undermines the development of emerging technologies within academia. The controversy surrounding UGM’s LISA AI system illustrates the risk: when data governance and institutional oversight are shaped by political incentives, AI outputs become objects of suspicion rather than tools for advancing knowledge.A compromised AI ecosystem discourages researchers from pursuing ambitious technological projects within Indonesia’s universities. When public trust in academic technology diminishes, so too does the willingness of policy-makers and private partners to support innovative research, thereby weakening national competitiveness.The cumulative effect of these dynamics contributes to what scholars describe as “integrity drain.” Talented academics may leave the institution—or the country altogether—in search of environments where scholarly independence is protected. Brain drain, once initiated, becomes a self-reinforcing cycle that drains the intellectual strength of the nation.Beyond academia, structural COI has profound implications for Indonesia’s democratic health. Universities traditionally serve as guardians of critical inquiry, fostering an informed citizenry capable of questioning authority. When universities lose their autonomy, society loses one of its most vital sources of democratic resilience.If this condition continues unaddressed, public cynicism toward educational institutions may harden into a broader distrust of expert knowledge. Education risks being treated not as a public good but as a political commodity, eroding the quality of national discourse.The presence of a structural conflict of interest at UGM, or even the widespread perception of one, threatens to weaken Indonesia’s entire higher-education ecosystem. It imperils academic independence, degrades public faith, constrains technological innovation, and undermines democratic culture. To restore integrity, Indonesia must reinforce governance structures that insulate universities from political pressures, ensuring that higher education remains a domain of truth rather than expedience.In order to minimise academic conflicts of interest, the reforms suggested by Davis and Stark in Conflict of Interest in the Professions must be understood not as a list of technical fixes, but as a reconfiguration of the moral, institutional, and structural environment in which universities operate. They argue that academic institutions must first recognise that conflicts of interest are not primarily matters of personal virtue or individual wrongdoing, but consequences of institutional arrangements in which incentives and loyalties are misaligned. A university that hopes to preserve its intellectual legitimacy must therefore commit itself to transparent systems of disclosure, so that every financial, political, and institutional relationship that might compromise judgment becomes openly visible. Without this form of structural honesty, no academic environment can credibly claim independence.
The independence of universities also depends upon building robust boundaries between academic decision-making and external political or commercial interests. Davis and Stark insist that a profession loses its integrity the moment it allows the judgement of experts to be subordinated to political pressures or corporate expectations. The academic community must therefore construct what one might call institutional firewalls—organisational barriers that ensure decisions of scholarly consequence are insulated from the demands of governments, sponsors, or other centres of power. These firewalls are not merely bureaucratic devices; they are ethical infrastructures designed to ensure that academic truth is not reshaped by external agendas.To strengthen the credibility of these boundaries, universities must also reduce their overdependence on external funding streams that shape research outputs. When a university relies too heavily on government contracts or industry partnerships, it becomes structurally vulnerable to the very pressures that generate conflicts of interest. Davis and Stark therefore encourage universities to diversify their sources of support, not to reject external collaboration, but to ensure that no single funding relationship becomes powerful enough to shape the direction of research or distort scholarly inquiry. A financially pluralistic institution is far better able to maintain intellectual independence.Yet independence is not the only virtue required; oversight must be independent as well. Davis and Stark repeatedly warn that institutions cannot credibly police their own conflicts if the bodies responsible for enforcement remain subordinate to the same leaders whose interests may be implicated. It is therefore essential for universities to establish ethical oversight bodies that are structurally independent from the rectorate or senior leadership. Such bodies may include external scholars, ethicists, and public representatives, thereby ensuring that investigations into conflicts of interest are conducted with impartiality and authority.Alongside the institutional reforms, universities must confront the problem of role conflict—the situation in which academic leaders or researchers occupy multiple positions that carry divergent loyalties. Davis and Stark emphasise that conflicts of interest often arise not from corruption, but from the ordinary complexities of professional life, in which individuals simultaneously serve as scholars, consultants, advisers, executives, or political actors. Universities should therefore enforce clear limits on the accumulation of roles that create competing obligations, particularly when those roles involve decisions that affect academic judgment or public credibility.A related challenge lies in the integrity of academic assessments themselves. When universities become concerned with protecting their public image, they may unintentionally skew evaluations, research findings, or public statements to preserve institutional prestige. Davis and Stark remind us that the legitimacy of academic professions depends upon the preservation of professional standards above institutional loyalty. As such, universities must implement peer review processes, independent evaluation panels, and transparent methodological audits to ensure that scholarly assessments are not distorted by reputational concerns.
No reform will succeed if academic voices are silenced. Davis argues persuasively that a profession can only maintain its ethical autonomy when its practitioners are free to speak, critique, and dissent without fear of retaliation. Universities must therefore develop strong protections for academic freedom, ensuring that scholars who raise ethical concerns or challenge institutional decisions are supported rather than punished. Without such safeguards, conflicts of interest will flourish unnoticed because those aware of them will feel unsafe to speak.For reforms to have a lasting impact, decision-making in universities must be guided not by political strategy or institutional self-preservation but by professional norms. As Stark notes, the authority of a profession rests upon its capacity to make judgments based on disciplinary knowledge rather than external power. Universities must therefore embed procedural frameworks that mandate professional criteria in every decision that affects research, public communication, or the academic standing of individuals. Such frameworks protect both the process and the integrity of academic governance.Transparency must complement these standards. Conflicts of interest thrive where institutional opacity prevents public scrutiny. Universities must therefore adopt practices of radical openness, publishing methodological details, decision-making processes, advisory membership lists, and other structural information relevant to potential conflicts. This transparency provides the public with the means to evaluate institutional credibility and reduces the space in which suspicions or misinformation can grow.
Finally, Davis and Stark caution that structural safeguards alone are insufficient unless accompanied by a cultural shift. Universities must cultivate literacy in conflicts of interest among students, scholars, and administrators, ensuring that members of the academic community understand the ethical dimensions of their professional roles. Through training, open discussion, and continuous reflection, the institution can foster a culture in which integrity is not merely enforced but internalised. Only through such a cultural transformation can academic professions hope to maintain the independence upon which their social authority ultimately depends.
[Part 6]
