In the theatre of politics, it was Purbaya, the Indonesian Finance Minister, who earned a rare applause for daring to point out the obvious: the press had gone strangely mute, “mingkem,” as though criticism had become an endangered species. His words were not a lament but a challenge, a reminder that silence in journalism is far more dangerous than noise. To criticise power is not treason but duty, and Purbaya’s jab at the media was less about vanity than about accountability. Meanwhile, in a parallel act, the Agriculture Minister, Mr Amran Sulaiman, chose to drag a magazine into court for reporting on rotten rice. Where one minister sought to awaken the watchdogs, the other seemed intent on muzzling them. And so the irony unfolded: Purbaya, unexpectedly cast as the defender of criticism, while Amran played the role of its adversary. The people, ever amused, saw in this contrast the paradox of governance—one hand beckoning the press to speak, the other hand slapping it for doing so.Back to our topic.
Oliver’s concept of the Opacity Spiral becomes particularly relevant when we look at cases in Indonesia where public figures, institutions, or corporations allow ambiguity, secrecy, or half-answers to replace straightforward disclosure, eventually triggering an escalating crisis of public distrust. In Oliver’s framework, opacity is never static; it intensifies in a predictable pattern—secrecy, leaks, denials, more leaks, stronger denials, then the appearance of hard evidence that contradicts the earlier denials, culminating in reputational damage or institutional collapse. This sequence does not require malicious intent at the beginning; it often begins simply with a refusal to disclose information clearly, and from that point the spiral begins to feed on itself.
Indonesia offers a wide range of real-world examples that mirror this exact trajectory. One of the clearest parallels is seen in the controversies surrounding large-scale state projects—particularly those where financial details, procurement processes, or operational data remain withheld from the public. When officials offer assurances without documentation, or narrative explanations in place of factual transparency, suspicion naturally grows. In response, leaks emerge—sometimes from insiders, sometimes from investigative journalists—and those leaks are met with denials or attempts to delegitimise the sources rather than addressing the substance of the information. As the spiral continues, new evidence surfaces, often in the form of audit reports, whistleblower testimonies, or leaked correspondence, and at that point the institutions involved struggle to regain credibility because their earlier denials have already undermined public trust.
A particularly concrete example that mirrors Oliver’s Opacity Spiral almost step-for-step is the unfolding controversies around major infrastructure projects whose budgets expand without clear explanation. When contract documents, feasibility studies, or loan agreements remain hidden, the lack of clarity invites speculation. Officials respond by insisting everything is “under control” while declining to release the underlying data. Journalists dig deeper. Further leaks occur. Denials intensify. Then, at a later stage, audit results or parliamentary hearings reveal inconsistencies between the official narrative and the factual record, leading to widespread criticism, political pressure, and—at times—legal consequences. The pattern becomes so predictable that it feels like a script, exactly as Oliver describes in his chapter.
Oliver’s idea becomes even more relevant in the era of digital whistleblowing, because once the public senses opacity, the online ecosystem accelerates the spiral. Speculation moves faster, scrutiny becomes sharper, and denial becomes a less effective defensive strategy. When leaders or institutions choose not to reveal information that could resolve doubts, they unwittingly fuel the narrative that something is being hidden, even when the truth may be far more mundane. In that sense, Indonesia provides a vibrant and sometimes dramatic stage for the Opacity Spiral to unfold, because public expectations of transparency have grown far faster than institutional habits of disclosure.
The central message that Richard W. Oliver conveys in What Is Transparency? is that transparency is not merely an ethical accessory but a fundamental operating principle required for trust, stability, and long-term legitimacy in any modern institution. Oliver argues that societies and organisations thrive when information flows freely, when decisions are visible rather than concealed, and when those in power choose openness over secrecy as a strategic commitment rather than a reluctant concession. His work stresses that opacity always carries a predictable cost: secrecy invites suspicion, suspicion sparks investigation, and investigation inevitably uncovers truths that are far more damaging when revealed under pressure than when disclosed voluntarily.Oliver’s work ultimately suggests that transparency is less about moral virtue and more about institutional survival. He presents it as a pragmatic framework for navigating a world in which information travels instantly, collective memory is digital, and concealment is nearly impossible to maintain. In essence, Oliver urges leaders, governments, and corporations to adopt transparency not because it makes them appear righteous, but because failing to do so guarantees their entrapment in the destructive cycles of denial, exposure, and public backlash. His message is that openness is the only sustainable strategy in an age where everything hidden eventually becomes known.Open Government, the 2010 volume edited by Daniel Lathrop and Laurel Ruma, published by O’Reilly Media, presents a sweeping examination of how transparency, data accessibility, and participatory governance can reshape the relationship between citizens and the state. It argues that governments, when they embrace openness not merely as a slogan but as a structural commitment, can empower the public to scrutinise decisions, improve public services, and co-create better policy outcomes. The editors gather contributions from technologists, civil servants, journalists, and civic activists, forming a mosaic of perspectives that emphasise not only the promise of open data but also the political and institutional hurdles that threaten its implementation. The book also frames transparency as a cultural shift rather than a technical upgrade, insisting that openness succeeds only when bureaucracies adopt new habits of accountability and when citizens consistently demand clarity from those who govern them. Despite being published in 2010, its arguments remain strikingly relevant in an era marked by digital distrust, algorithmic opacity, and governments that publicly praise openness while quietly retreating from it.According to Open Government, transparency is not merely about uploading reports online or releasing official documents; it represents a profound cultural shift that requires new habits and attitudes from both government officials and citizens. The book emphasises that an open government is prepared to face questions, criticism, and public pressure consistently, rather than selectively during high-profile moments. Transparency becomes a part of organisational culture when, firstly, bureaucrats routinely consider the possibility that their decisions will be scrutinised by the public; secondly, citizens actively engage with information to demand accountability, rather than passively consuming reports; and thirdly, institutions develop systematic practices for regularly disseminating clear and accessible information.The core argument is that without a change in mindset and behaviour—on the part of both officials and the public—open data remains little more than “digital decoration” that does not influence behaviour or policy outcomes. Transparency succeeds only when it is embedded into the daily workings of government and becomes an ingrained habit, from top leadership to frontline staff, and from ordinary citizens to journalists and civic activists.
“Targeted Transparency” refers to a deliberate and strategic approach to openness in which information is released with specific goals in mind, rather than publishing data indiscriminately. The concept emphasises that transparency is most effective when it is purposeful—aimed at addressing particular problems, informing certain audiences, or improving specific aspects of governance. For example, targeted transparency might focus on revealing government spending in sectors prone to corruption, performance metrics in public services that citizens use daily, or regulatory decisions that directly impact communities. The book argues that by focusing transparency efforts on carefully chosen areas, governments can increase accountability, enable informed civic participation, and maximise the practical impact of the data provided. Targeted transparency also recognises that releasing all possible data without context or guidance can overwhelm citizens, mislead the public, or produce minimal real-world benefit.
[Part 1]The book argues that transparency is most effective when it is strategic, context-sensitive, and aligned with both public needs and governmental capacity. It is not presented as a universal solution that automatically improves governance; instead, its usefulness depends on factors such as the quality of the data being released, the ability of citizens to interpret and act on that information, and the institutional willingness to respond to scrutiny. The chapter illustrates that transparency is particularly valuable in circumstances where public oversight can prevent corruption, improve service delivery, or guide policy decisions. However, it also cautions that transparency can be counterproductive if data is misinterpreted, selectively presented, or deployed as a mere symbolic gesture, emphasising that the cultural and institutional context is critical for its success.
The editors argue that transparency is not just about releasing information; it is also about enabling the public to observe, interpret, and respond to government behaviour. When citizens are empowered to act as the “eyes and ears” of the state, they can help detect inefficiencies, identify corruption, and suggest improvements based on their experiences and local knowledge. This citizen engagement transforms transparency from a passive disclosure of data into an interactive process of accountability. Importantly, the authors note that for this system to work effectively, citizens need access to clear, understandable data and channels for communicating their observations to authorities who are willing to listen and act.Civic engagement is most effective when governments provide not only access to information but also tools, platforms, and opportunities that make it easy for citizens to contribute. This includes user-friendly digital portals, open data sets presented in understandable formats, and structured channels for feedback and collaboration. The authors stress that engagement is not simply about soliciting opinions, but about creating mechanisms where citizen input can genuinely influence decision-making, policy formation, and public service improvement. Education and outreach are also important, noting that citizens must understand both their rights and how they can participate to have an impact. Ultimately, the book frames civic engagement as a two-way process: governments must be proactive in enabling participation, and citizens must be motivated and equipped to use these opportunities effectively.
Platforms such as Twitter, Facebook, and blogs allow citizens to share information, highlight government actions, and mobilise collective oversight at unprecedented speed and scale. Social media enables real-time scrutiny of public decisions, creating pressure on officials to respond promptly and responsibly. The authors note that it also empowers journalists, activists, and ordinary citizens to collaborate, amplify voices, and expose wrongdoing that might otherwise remain hidden. However, the chapter also cautions that social media can spread misinformation and that not all citizens have equal access or digital literacy, meaning that transparency efforts must be complemented by education, fact-checking, and thoughtful engagement strategies. Social media is a powerful tool in the fight for transparency, but one that requires careful management to be truly effective.
Openness is not merely a technical or procedural matter, but a cultural and participatory practice that requires commitment from both government and citizens. Transparency works best when it is purposeful, strategic, and embedded into the everyday operations of governance. Simply releasing data is not enough; governments must ensure that the information is clear, accessible, and actionable. Meanwhile, citizens must be empowered and motivated to use that information to hold officials accountable, contribute to policy discussions, and improve public services. Transparency as a two-way process: it succeeds when officials embrace accountability as a habit, and when citizens engage actively, critically, and consistently. Transparency is a tool for building trust, enhancing civic participation, and improving governance, but only if it becomes part of a broader culture of openness rather than a superficial or symbolic gesture.
Transparency is more than a buzzword; it is the backbone of modern governance and civic trust. In an age where information travels faster than ever and public scrutiny is constant, transparency serves as both shield and mirror: it protects governments from suspicion while reflecting their actions honestly to the citizenry. When institutions embrace openness sincerely, they invite dialogue, collaboration, and accountability, creating an ecosystem in which decision-making is informed, visible, and justifiable. Transparency, therefore, is not merely about publishing data, but about cultivating habits of integrity and responsiveness that permeate every layer of governance.
However, transparency is not automatic or universally beneficial. Its impact depends heavily on context, clarity, and accessibility. Flooding the public with raw data without proper explanation can overwhelm citizens and even backfire, leading to confusion or misinterpretation. Similarly, selective disclosure—revealing only favourable information—erodes trust rather than building it. True transparency demands deliberate effort: governments must tailor their disclosures to meaningful metrics, present information in digestible forms, and maintain consistent channels for citizen engagement. This strategic approach ensures that transparency becomes a tool for problem-solving rather than an empty gesture of performance.
Another crucial aspect of transparency is citizen empowerment. Openness achieves its full potential only when citizens are equipped to observe, interpret, and act on information. This means providing not only access but also education, platforms for engagement, and mechanisms for feedback. When citizens function as the “eyes and ears” of the state, they become partners in governance rather than mere recipients of policies. This symbiotic relationship enhances oversight, reduces corruption, and fosters innovative solutions driven by real-world experiences and local knowledge. Transparency, therefore, is inseparable from participation; it flourishes where citizens are motivated, capable, and supported to play an active role.
Moreover, transparency is inherently cultural. It cannot be imposed solely through regulations or technological fixes; it must be embedded in the daily operations, values, and mindset of institutions. Bureaucracies that treat transparency as a one-off project or a compliance exercise risk failure, as do citizens who engage only sporadically. Real transparency requires continuous commitment from leaders, staff, and the public alike, cultivating an environment in which openness is habitual rather than exceptional. When transparency becomes a shared expectation and standard practice, accountability, trust, and legitimacy are no longer aspirational ideals but living realities that shape governance in tangible ways.
In conclusion, transparency is both a practical instrument and a moral imperative. It bridges the gap between government and citizen, transforms data into knowledge, and accountability into action. Yet, its success relies not merely on the availability of information, but on cultivating trust, civic literacy, and an enduring culture of openness. Governments and citizens together must embrace transparency as a daily practice, a shared responsibility, and a foundation for better governance. Only then can transparency truly fulfil its promise: to empower citizens, enhance decision-making, and forge a public sphere in which trust, fairness, and clarity are not privileges but norms.
[Part 4]
