A circus monkey on a pedestal.
Angga explained this design approach implementation from his experience working in the Indonesian education system.
We were too busy designing the perfect pedestal because training the monkey is hard. Understandable—from an aesthetics point of view, the pedestal is tangible, something to show, something to quantify as key performance indicators.
But there is no point in measuring the wrong metrics. Of course, this does not mean that the pedestal is unnecessary. The monkey needs to stand on something—preferably something beautiful that enhances its performance, so you can get buy-in from your stakeholders. However, when resources are limited, you need to prioritise. Training the monkey should come first.
That was one topic of our commune’s conversations.
On the third day of Eid, we organised a halal bi halal (Eid Gathering) with our chosen family. The theme was Bhinneka Tunggal Ika potluck (no, we didn’t wear baju koko or kaftan). Each household brought a local dish from their ethnic background (most of us are mixed-race couples, so either the dominant partner decided or simply the one with better traditional cuisine).
Angga brought 2 kg of Makassari coto, buras, and satay. (No Norwegian or Scandinavian food from Toby)
We brought Manadonese. (Javanese, especially Soloensis, can’t compete with that)
Dara and Tri brought Palembang’s pride, pempek.
Claire and Theo brought babi hong.
Sylvia brought desserts from Châteraisé. (Japanese, instead of Javanese)
Conna brought Acehnese.
Tito, American(ised Cindo), brought a Singleton 12, an Absolut Elyx Vodka, and other drinks.
Yeti and Young lent their flat to host the non-halal halal bi halal. They served cold green tea, coffee, and Korean snacks of gochubugak (dried chilli).
The silaturahmi started after a meeting with Indonesia’s first female pilot concluded.
Tri shared his views and experiences as an artist working with generative AI models. I shared about Palantir demo, a chat-based tool for military commanders in commanding and mobilising. Tri said AI’s military use would be more sophisticated than that: post-modern warfare can be fought without a single bullet fired or bomb detonated; misinformation and cyberattacks on infrastructures could be sufficient to cripple your enemies. The arms race for AI will be similar to nuclear.
We talked about how knowledge workers like us would be the first to become redundant (or augmented by a secondary neural network). That we should learn a trade or a craft—we may end up serving our AI overlords as their bridges in the empirical world.
Or maybe the best possible scenario would happen: we would be living in a post-work society. We no longer need to work for a living; we can choose to work on things we are passionate about. To work for meaning.
But when we outsource our cognitive skills to AI would they wither?
I read a piece about the shortening attention span and how fewer and fewer people can read books. Nothing new. Even before AI became a buzzword, social media did that for us. However, with AI, you can acquire information faster than reading books, making reading redundant.
If the objective of reading books is only the acquisition of information, then yes, you don’t need to read books anymore. But when you read books, you are contextualizing the writer’s experiences. Not just collecting information, but feeling the weight of lived experiences. It is a training of critical thinking.
When we lose the capacity to think critically, we will lose the capacity to find or create meaning.
We are increasing our lifespan and our health span. What will we do to fill that long life?
Maybe sapiens would become extinct. Maybe we would evolve into a different species (or be replaced by one)—the so-called homo deus.
In any case, humans are good at finding and creating meaning. Even before languages and writing were invented, we filled our lives with myths and stories.
Those are future problems.
We are still a generation of readers, workers, business owners, and consumers. Nowadays, in Indonesia, we try to fill that with consumerism or Islam(ism) or nationalism or all of them. The ideologies unsuitable for us (and I dare say, irrelevant for the 21st-century challenges).
The nearest disruptions to our late capitalist society are irrelevance in the job market, ecological collapse, nuclear war, or the Third World War (but Indonesia can remain neutral).
When the tech industry cracks AGI, there will be AI-rich and AI-poor. But inequality is nothing new in human history. Only the degrees change over time and geography.
Humanity’s key survival asset is its diversity. AI may affect us, the knowledge workers in urban environments, but for people who live off-the-grid with analogue lifestyles, AI may not have much say in their lives.
On a smaller scale, we talked about our struggles with careers, businesses, and our personal issues and romantic relationships. Like everyone else.
This is the core purpose of our commune, any commune: a community to help each of its members survive and thrive in an ever-changing world.
We share our resources—tangible and intangible: kitchen knives, cast iron skillets, V60 coffee makers, sous-vide cookers; crowdfund an ice bath (or we can use the ones in men’s health (translation: sex service) massage parlour); teach each other skills, share tips and life hacks, pool our networks to advance each other’s interests, or simply keep each other company.
We invite each other for lunches and dinner parties. Exchange recipes, divide the labours of meal prepping and dishwashing. Plan and travel together. Lend each other books. Give thoughtful gifts.
At the end of halal bi halal, Yeti and Young retired to bed earlier than the rest of us.
We cleaned up. Washed the dishes, took out the trash, tidied up the dining table—wiped it clean with Mr. Muscle. Since all twelve of us contributed to doing the chores, it was a 10-minute job.
The next morning, Yeti thanked us for being considerate.
But of course, it was our duty as guests—no, as members of the commune; we share the space and attention and efforts.
In retrospect, this was the best Eid I have ever had in my life.
The foods. The conversations. They are satiating.
The commune is the pedestal.
We are the circus monkeys—juggling between what we love, what we are good at, what the world needs, and what we can make money from.
We met again at the gym, on the fourth morning of Eid.
We take care of our physical fitness. (And we needed to sweat those whiskies and vodkas out of our system)
We managed to reduce each other’s suffering.
This is the good life.
Eid Mubarak.
Post-script:
This year marked the first time I spent Eid in Jakarta after 11 years away during the Muslim World’s holiday season.
I chose to be away all that time.
I realised I don’t have to endure the tedium of people who don’t share my values and don’t even really like me just because they are related by blood or marriage. Back then, Eid felt like a very long day in which you visited 5 or even 6 houses of your elders’.
When I left for London, I learned that you can choose your family. In fact, you have tochoose your family. Tolerating each other is for a society.
Regardless, I was in Jakarta. I dutifully participated in traditional halal-bi-halal on the first day of Eid. I made sure that any interaction would be intentional. I made two rules: visit two places only and I will not force any conversation (the old proverb ‘silence is golden’ is true—not many people could stand that, and the ones who could are the best of people).
The rules magically worked. I didn’t have a good time, but it was tolerable.
I had bits of fun playing with my nieces and nephew (as always); managed to get them off-screen. Still killed some time with PS5 to avoid obnoxious distant family members, but all in all good enough. My brother-in-law served US prime steaks and Italian-style pizzas (a good variety from opor and rendang)
I even talked about hunting, kendo, and kyudo with my bureaucrat cousins. My brother gave me a Spanish red wine as an Eid gift (how thoughtful).
I also heard Angga’s experience was similar. His relatives didn’t ask passive-aggressive questions; they looked pleased meeting him after such a long time. (No, he didn’t bring Toby. He wasn’t interested in complicating things)
Maybe all those mental health awareness campaigns on TikTok actually work? That society has become better through introspection and reflection of our inner worlds. Velocity dance brought us together so we could connect as humans?
Or perhaps, as we got to a certain age, our family gave up on soliciting their advice. We’ve become a lost cause.
So if you’re in your twenties or early thirties, chin up. Expectations to conform with Asian family values have an expiry date. Be old enough and you’d be left alone (and if you’re rich enough, the expiry date can be expedited).
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