In today’s world, progress is often synonymous with wealth. Nations are ranked by how much they produce, how fast they grow, how seamlessly they innovate.

By conventional standards, Indonesia—still working through development hurdles—is more often positioned as a country in transition than a source of insight. And yet, Indonesia quietly defies that narrative.

According to the “Global Flourishing Study”—a groundbreaking research project by Harvard, Gallup and Baylor University surveying over 200,000 people across 22 countries—Indonesia ranks first in overall human flourishing. Not the wealthiest. Not the most advanced. But the most deeply, broadly and consistently well.

Indonesia topped the index in five non-material dimensions: happiness, purpose, character, health and social relationships. Meanwhile, some of the world’s richest nations found themselves near the bottom.

Japan, often praised for its longevity and technological sophistication, came last. The United Kingdom, with its robust institutions and long democratic tradition, ranked 20th.

Even the United States, home to the world’s largest economy, landed in 12th place—dragged down by polarization, isolation and declining trust. Germany, known for its efficiency and social protections, also ranked below Indonesia.

These numbers don’t just raise eyebrows. They raise profound questions. If nations that excel at producing wealth are struggling to produce well-being, what exactly are we building?

For decades, development has followed a singular logic: grow the economy, and everything else will follow. But Indonesia’s position suggests otherwise.

It reveals a deeper truth—that flourishing is not a byproduct of affluence, but something cultivated in the soil of meaning, connection, and community. In Indonesia, those things are not policy goals. They are cultural defaults.

Here, life is often shared more than it is scheduled. From tahlilan (communal prayer gatherings) and arisan (rotating savings groups), to late-night conversations at small street-side cafes and multi-generational homes, Indonesians engage in practices that may seem ordinary—but serve as quiet technologies of belonging.

These rituals may not increase productivity, but they restore something far rarer in the modern world: a sense of being held.

While the world debates ESG frameworks and circular economies, many Indonesians are still anchored in an ethic of mutuality that predates every white paper. There is no acronym for it. No metric. Just a deeply felt rhythm of life that reminds people, even in hardship, that they are not alone.

Compare that with the experience of high-income societies increasingly hollowed out by chronic loneliness, spiritual fatigue, and distrust. Nations that are materially rich, but relationally bankrupt. The paradox could not be sharper: the more we optimize for individual success, the more we seem to lose our collective soul.

This is not to romanticize Indonesia. Its problems are real—economic disparities, health challenges, educational gaps. But perhaps that’s precisely the point. Flourishing doesn’t require perfection. It requires connection. And in that space between not-yet-rich and not-yet-lost, Indonesia has managed to protect something invaluable: its social spirit.

The risk, of course, is that this strength is invisible—especially to its own policymakers. In trying to catch up with the so-called developed world, Indonesia may forget what it is that makes it already whole.

If growth becomes a race to replicate models that ignore spiritual and communal foundations, then the very thing that makes Indonesia flourish may be eroded in the name of catching up.

Yet there is another path. What if Indonesia is not behind, but ahead—in a different, quieter way? What if the question is not whether Indonesia can learn from the world, but whether the world is ready to learn from Indonesia?

Because the crisis we now face is not a crisis of production. It is a crisis of meaning. The planet is overheating. Democracies are faltering. Mental health is in free fall. We are more connected than ever, and yet more fractured within.

And here is Indonesia, standing in the middle of it all—not perfect, not triumphant, but deeply human. Not rich in the way spreadsheets recognize, but rich in the way hearts remember.

What Indonesia offers is not a model, but a mirror. A reminder that flourishing doesn’t come from having it all, but from not forgetting who we are when we have less.

That progress without presence is just acceleration. And that in the noise of a civilization losing its bearings, the ability to stay rooted in what matters may be the most powerful form of leadership.

And perhaps that is Indonesia’s real gift to the world: To show that in the age of fractured progress, the most radical thing a country can do— is to remember how to be whole.

Setyo Budiantoro is sustainable development expert at The Prakarsa, MIT Sloan IDEAS fellow, advisory committee member of Fair Finance Asia and SDGs–ESG expert
at Indonesian ESG Professional Association (IEPA).