The world we live in today relies heavily on data. Commodities can be traced back to where they were produced. Packages can be tracked as they move across borders. Financial transactions leave detailed digital records. Data provides visibility that reduces uncertainty. When uncertainty decreases, risk becomes easier to manage. When data is available, we know where problems exist and how systems can improve. It is no surprise, then, that investment and innovation tend to flow toward systems where information is clear and reliable.

Waste, however, is one of the few systems that still remains largely invisible.

Our waste enters a reverse chain that is far less documented than the forward one that produced it. Supply chains for manufacturing and retail are designed to be standardised, centralised, and well recorded. But what happens after a product is discarded is very different. The afterlife of products is fragmented, informal, and often invisible.

Once an item leaves a household or a shop, it may pass through many hands, vehicles, storages, and transactions that are rarely recorded in ways that is easy to verify. Data then becomes scarce. Statistics turn into estimates. Outcomes become assumptions.

Decisions about what to do with waste — how it is collected, where it goes, and how it should be processed — depend heavily on a reverse supply chain that is poorly documented. In many cases, whether materials are recovered, burned, buried, or leaked into the environment is determined with very limited information. Data-driven decision making, in practice, barely exists. When decisions are made without reliable information, mistakes multiply. Resources are wasted. Costs increase. Which is ironic for an industry that already operates on extremely thin margins.

When labor substitutes for missing information

Reverse logistics is complicated everywhere, but in many developing countries it becomes profoundly human.

Waste is generated by millions of households, in inconsistent quantities, mixed in composition, and influenced by behaviour that changes daily. Materials lose value the moment they are discarded. To recover that value, they must be identified, separated, cleaned, aggregated, and transported through thin margins and volatile markets.

Because formal data systems are weak, people compensate.

Waste pickers memorise routes and buyers. Aggregators rely on long-standing relationships to predict volumes. Community waste banks depend on volunteers. Transactions are negotiated through trust, reputation, and experience rather than standardised reporting. The system functions not because it is digitally integrated or operationally efficient, but because it is socially embedded.

This is particularly visible in places like Indonesia, where informal and community actors perform a substantial share of recovery. Their flexibility is the backbone of the system. Without them, recycling rates would likely collapse.

But reliance on human adaptability comes with limits.

When the risks are pushed to the bottom of the chain — onto waste pickers, community waste banks, and informal aggregators — it is unrealistic to expect decisions that always prioritise what is best for the planet. These actors often operate with limited negotiating power and little access to reliable market information. Faced with volatile prices and thin margins, they will make the economically rational choice within the constraints they face. When the price of recyclables falls, burning or discarding materials may simply become the most viable option. It may not be the best outcome for the environment, but for those carrying the risk, it is often the most practical decision.

And because so much of this system operates informally and without proper documentation, its true performance remains difficult to measure. Activities are rarely recorded systematically. Contributions are hard to quantify. Planning infrastructure becomes guesswork. Investment appears risky. Innovations spread slowly because success cannot be clearly analysed or replicated.

The sector survives.

But at whose cost?

Invisibility shapes incentives — and weakens improvement

Data gaps in the waste system also do more than inconvenience planners. They influence how responsibility is shared across the system and how improvement takes place.

Municipal authorities hesitate to commit budgets when they do not have clear visibility over waste flows. Recyclers are cautious about expanding capacity without predictable supply. Financial institutions price in uncertainty. National recovery targets are often built on aggregated data that hides local realities.

Policies such as Extended Producer Responsibility also depend on traceability to function. Responsibility must be supported by evidence. Without credible tracking, regulators rely heavily on self-reported data and occasional audits. Compliance risks becoming a reporting exercise rather than a guarantee that waste is actually recovered.

Public trust also suffers. People are asked to separate their waste, yet they rarely see proof of what happens afterward. Stories of dumping, leakage, or illegal trade travel faster than success stories. Participation becomes fragile.

The waste system does require more effort, but without visibility those efforts remain difficult to coordinate and improve. Traceability provides that visibility. By recording how materials move through the reverse chain — who collects them, where they go, and how they are processed — traceability turns an opaque system into one that can be observed and managed. Over time, patterns begin to emerge: where materials leak, when participation drops, and which incentives actually work. Policymakers can intervene with greater precision. Practitioners can refine their models. Investors can direct capital toward systems that demonstrate reliability.

Waste management outcomes often depend on subtle factors: distance to markets, household density, gender dynamics, price fluctuations, or the reliability of transport. Without data, it is difficult to understand why a program succeeds in one place but struggles in another. Improvement then becomes intuitive rather than analytical. Programs are replicated because they appear promising, not because their mechanics are fully understood.

In other words, traceability allows the waste system to do what most modern economic systems already do: learn from its own data.

Recognition and redistribution

For many grassroots players in the waste system, documentation can reshape power.

Much of the work that sustains recycling today is carried out by people whose contributions are rarely recorded. Waste pickers, community waste banks, and small aggregators move significant volumes of materials through the system every day. Yet because these activities are poorly documented, their role often remains invisible in formal reporting and policy discussions.

Traceability can begin to change this. When collectors and waste banks are able to demonstrate consistent recovery volumes, their work becomes measurable. What was previously seen as informal activity starts to appear as an environmental service. With documented data, these actors gain stronger footing when negotiating with offtakers, producers, and program partners. Opportunities for partnerships, financing, and policy recognition become more accessible. In this way, traceability does more than improve logistics. It converts invisible labor into recognised contribution.

But visibility also introduces an important risk.

Data often flows more easily upward than value flows downward. If traceability systems are designed mainly to serve reporting requirements for brands, regulators, or investors, grassroots players may end up generating the data without sharing proportionally in the benefits. Their activities become more visible, but their bargaining power does not necessarily improve.

In some cases, better data can even shift control toward larger actors. Once flows become measurable and standardised, bigger companies may enter the sector, formalise operations, and centralise collection systems. Without careful governance, the very communities that built the recovery system may find themselves displaced or reduced to low-margin service providers within a more formalised structure.

For traceability to strengthen the waste system fairly, governance must evolve alongside measurement. Questions about data ownership, benefit sharing, and fair compensation become just as important as the data itself.

Otherwise, transparency risks reproducing the very marginalisation it aims to solve.

And yet, the real goal is a system that no longer needs it

Here lies the paradox.

If waste traceability feels necessary today, it is largely because trust, system design, and accountability are still incomplete. We build monitoring systems where confidence is weak. We verify because outcomes remain uncertain.

As I mentioned earlier, in many developing countries, the waste system still depends on fragmented information and informal coordination. Materials move through complex chains of collectors, aggregators, recyclers, and buyers, often without clear documentation. Under these conditions, visibility becomes essential. Without it, responsibility is difficult to assign, performance is hard to measure, and improvement becomes guesswork.

But traceability should not be mistaken for the final goal.

In a mature circular economy, many of these frictions would naturally diminish. Products would be designed from the beginning for durability, reuse, and recovery. Disposal pathways would be clear and reliable. Environmental costs would already be reflected in how goods are produced and consumed. Communities would trust the system because its performance would be consistent, not exceptional.

Information would still exist, but it would not feel intrusive or burdensome. It would operate quietly in the background, much like accounting systems in stable markets — essential, but rarely questioned. Seen this way, the highest achievement of traceability may be to make itself less visible.

Today, we build it as scaffolding: to reveal blind spots, align incentives, and create accountability across a fragmented system. Over time, if these systems succeed, many of the behaviours they enforce may become ordinary practice. Reliability will no longer depend on constant verification because it will be embedded in how the system works.

Until that day, traceability remains one of the most powerful tools we have.

Why I Think We Need Waste Traceability was originally published in The Environment on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

This writing suddenly feels like a pilgrimage. Something I feel I ought to do at the end of each year, just to find the time to pause, reflect, and be grateful. Last year, I wrote about the lessons and feelings of becoming a first-year social entrepreneur.

This year (or rather, last year — 2025) marks two years into the journey. It feels slightly different. Still tough, still hustling, still figuring things out while flying — but with a little more clarity, a little less confusion, and a little bit (or perhaps a lot) more chaos.

The journey has grown more complex. Still exciting, but demanding in subtler ways. It is no longer something I can treat as a fun experiment. Responsibility arrives quietly, in moments like realising you are accountable for more than 20 livelihoods, that mistakes no longer affect only you. Mistakes ripple further. Inaction becomes costly.

This was the year we accepted that growth required bolder moves, and we chose to trust our instincts and take bigger risks than in our first year.

We have been fortunate to have people who trusted us from day one. Clients who chose us despite our “green” experience. Team members who joined when we had very little to showcase. And last year, we tried our best to repay that trust.

We worked on the projects we were entrusted with. We built technology that we hope will change how people see waste management. We raised funds from people who believed we could make it big. We even set up an office in Singapore after long and exhausting administrative and legal processes.

Two years though, is still very early when viewed through the longer horizon of building a startup. Just when I thought we were approaching a more stable phase, I realised how wrong I was. Last year came with an entirely new set of experiences — and a much heavier level of decision-making.

We decided to open a brand-new facility to process low-value plastics, in a place none of us were familiar with (more on this coming soon!). None of us, as co-founders, had any experience with factories, machinery, or anything remotely close. We knew how to collect waste, but when it came to processing it, we were completely clueless.

Last year, I started reading more about plastic processing — and oh man (and oh woman), it felt like opening Pandora’s box. Suddenly, I was diving into monomers and polymers, chemical compositions of macromolecules, and so on and so forth (I am on about page 10 of a 200-page book on plastic packaging). I also had to learn the differences between mono-material and mono-layered plastics, multi-layered and multi-materials. I used to compete in Chemistry Olympiads back in high school, but let us just say none of that knowledge stayed with me.

I cannot even begin to describe the experience of learning what it actually takes to set up a factory — a physical processing facility — with its permits, machinery, and yes, its gangster issues.

It was a humbling experience…:-)

Again and again, I was reminded of how much I do not know, and how much there is still left to learn.

It gets more complicated as we grow

I also realised that growing a team is not easy. In the early days, we did not put much effort into hiring, because most people were those we had previously worked with, or people we managed directly and could coach closely. Values and trust were built more effortlessly in a smaller team. Culture was easier to manage. Even organising a team lunch was simple.

Now, with 20 people, we cannot easily find a place with a table for 20 — or worse, parking for three cars.

The dynamics of hiring have also changed.

Finding the right people is no longer just about skill sets and competence. It is about alignment to values: how someone works, how they make decisions, how they respond to uncertainty. We also need people who are different from us, to ensure diversity of opinions. But maintaining culture then becomes trickier.

We have had to be more intentional about it. Culture does not automatically scale with headcount. It requires clarity, repetition, and consistent behaviour. It shows up in how decisions are made, how feedback is given, and how conflicts are handled.

As a team, we started drafting our core values and communicating them more clearly. We want to build a team that lasts. A team that enjoys the journey. A team that, no matter how big it grows, still believes in the mission. And that is precisely why it is becoming harder, not easier.

Not once, not twice, but several times…

I started questioning my decision to become an entrepreneur

Not because I wanted to quit, but because when things get muddy, I sometimes look back at the comfort of corporate life and ask myself, “Why did I choose the tough path?”

In corporate life, pressure exists — but it is distributed. There are layers. There is structure. There is always someone above you.

As an entrepreneur, that buffer does not exist.

I do have my co-founders (who are thankfully amazing!). But I cannot blame them for wrong decisions the way I could blame my boss. The three of us have distinct roles, and each of us is accountable for our own area of responsibility.

So, there are down days. Days that feel rough. Days when I do not want to do anything. Days when I am tired of making decisions.

But someone once told me that it is normal to feel down. We are all human, after all. What differentiates us is that we choose to keep showing up. We choose to take responsibility because, in the end, we believe it will be worth it.

The liberty to create and innovate remains deeply fulfilling

If there is one thing that keeps me going, it is the freedom to create and innovate. There is something deeply satisfying about trying an idea, seeing it fail, learning from it, and trying again. The liberty to question existing systems and build alternatives still excites me the most.

It is fun. It is liberating. It carries a quiet sense of purpose — even when the impact feels small, even when mistakes keep happening.

This year, we launched our first digital application for waste tracking and transactions. We have already seen a few success stories from the ground and are preparing to scale them across hundreds more collection points. This has not come without challenges. We still whiteboard many issues. We still debate methodologies. We still find people opposing to the idea. But seeing something planned on paper (literally) turn into something real was a luxurious experience. Yes, luxurious. Not everyone gets to experience it — and it is indeed costly.

This freedom to try is something I do not take for granted. Building something aligned with my values truly matters. It keeps me going.

Chaos becomes something I learn to work with

The second year is still chaotic, but in a different way.

The chaos is no longer about everything falling apart. It is about many things moving at once. Building structure while the organisation continues to evolve. Watching processes take shape, testing them, adjusting them, and slowly seeing what holds and what does not. Recognising when something does not work, apologising when needed, fixing it, and trying again.

As the team grows, complexity becomes unavoidable. More opinions, more decisions, more moving parts. What matters then is not eliminating it, but designing systems that can live with it. Systems that are resilient enough to hold people together, guide decisions, and help everyone continue to give their best, even when things feel messy.

Chaos has started to feel more familiar. I am learning to sense when it becomes overwhelming, and when to take a breather. I am learning when to speak up, and when to step back so things can flow naturally.

Choosing to continue

This stage of the journey feels less about proving something and more about persevering. About continuing to create impact without losing identity. Without losing the mission. Without losing the mindset we had on day one.

This stage of the journey is about staying. Staying to show up every day. Staying and refusing to raise the white flag. Staying committed when things feel slow or uncertain. Finding ways to move forward without rushing, and growing without losing direction.

This stage of the journey is still about learning. Still about adjusting. Still about making mistakes. Progress feels quieter now, but more meaningful.

And for now, it feels like the right place to be.

I boarded my flight to Copenhagen with a sense of excitement that, interestingly, kept growing on me. I spent three weeks in the land of rye bread last March 2025. The weeks flew by in a flash — and just like that, a month has passed since that trip.

I have kept myself busy, but the thought of writing about my time in Denmark has always lingered at the back of my mind. It took me a while to finally sit down and write — not because I was insanely busy (well, maybe just a little?) — but mainly because I found it hard to condense everything into a neat 2,000-word piece. What should I write about? What style should I use? How deep should I go? The endless choices to be made left me feeling paralysed.

But hey, here I am — itching to write. So forget about the perfect structure; let’s just dive in!

The question

If there was a common thread running through my trip, it was the question I kept circling back to: “Why, how, and what makes Denmark… Denmark?” A country that consistently ranks among the highest in quality of life. A place where sustainability is not just a buzzword but a way of life. And for cyclists? A heaven.

I went to Denmark for a short course on Responsive Project Management, funded by the Danida Fellowship Center— (no, this is not a sponsored post 😉). I thought I would spend my time learning frameworks and management tools. Instead, I found myself on a much deeper journey: exploring the slow, steady story of a nation shaped over centuries, not built overnight with a snap of the fingers.

The answer

Let me start with this — it might sound overly simple. I would not pretend that three weeks in Denmark and a month of reflection could reveal the full answer to how a country develops. But I am trying to make sense of my experience.

If I had to point to one reason why everything seems to work in Denmark, from public transport to waste management, from bicycle lanes to water drinking system, it would be trust. Yes, just five letters: T.R.U.S.T.

The system is built on a foundation of trust. Danes trust their government to distribute welfare fairly and effectively, which is why high tax rates are widely accepted without major protest. The government trusts its citizens to act in the best interest of the common good, which is why penalties for non-compliance are often minimal. It is a mutual understanding that holds the whole system together.

The public transport

I was mind-blown when I found out that the metro in Copenhagen runs 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, without fail. I could not think of any other country where public transport operates nonstop like that. It felt like such a powerful service offered to citizens for the benefit of the common good. I doubt running the metro at 3 a.m. adds much to the company’s bottom line — but then again, is not that the true role of public services? To serve the public interest, not just capital.

When it comes to building a bicycle culture in their journey toward becoming a net-zero city, Copenhagen does not stop at simply painting bike lanes on the streets. They walk the talk. They created special carriages for bicycles on trains. They installed bicycle lanes along station stairs to make it easier for cyclists to travel longer distances. Their city planning includes an extensive network of cycle superhighways designed to prioritise cyclist. When they say they want to make cycling a primary mode of transportation, they actually focus on building a comprehensive, interconnected infrastructure — not just making empty promises.

On the other hand, I noticed that trains in Copenhagen are often covered in graffiti that clearly did not look like part of the official design. At first, I wondered — how could such a disciplined country allow vandalism? So, I asked a few locals what they thought about the graffiti on public spaces and why the government seemed to do nothing about it. Their response was casual: “Yeah, some people do that, but it is not really a big deal.” And in that moment, it clicked for me: the government trusts that not enough people will behave in a way that disrupts public services. Rather than wasting time and resources chasing down every minor act of vandalism, they choose to focus on bigger, more important priorities.

The user-centric culture

Cities in Denmark are built for living. You can tell that urban planners truly had the users in mind when designing the city. This becomes obvious in small but meaningful ways — like how supermarkets are always within walking distance from residential areas, or how close train stations are to apartment complexes. I had almost forgotten how fun it is to stroll aimlessly around a supermarket after a long day of work. It was delightful — yes, I loved it. I have never enjoyed online shopping (call me old-fashioned), but there is something uniquely satisfying about wandering through aisles with no intention of buying anything. It feels healthier than scrolling through my phone, and it offers a spontaneous break after eight hours of structured, planned work.

And what is more user-centric than thoughtful city planning? Maybe a door that swings just the right way. At the building where I took my short course, there were several swing doors. Uniquely, the two sides of each door swung in different directions: the right side swung away from you, while the left side swung toward you. Why? Because in Denmark, people naturally walk on the right side of the lane.

How could you not trust a company that pays such close attention to even the smallest details — like how a door swings — for the comfort of its users?

And finally, the waste management

If you are wondering whether I would write about Denmark’s waste management system — you guessed it right. I simply cannot visit a new country without peeking into a few trash bins and wandering through recycling centers.

Denmark’s system is impressive but not perfect. Around 53.9% of waste is collected for recycling and less than 1% ends up in landfill, but about 45.2% of waste is still incinerated.

Some of the waste workers I met during field visits shared differing views. A few doubted that the EPR system could truly work, while others argued that waste-to-energy is the most viable circular solution — since no material can be recycled indefinitely. I agree to a certain extent: we cannot recycle our way out of the mess we have created. So the point? It is not the perfect world I initially imagined. Sustainability is still a work in progress. Not all Danes are passionate about recycling. Not all Danes love rye bread either… okay, maybe I was wrong about the rye bread.

But it is not all gloom — there were definitely more bright stories (as you expected duh).

I visited one recycling center on the outskirts of Copenhagen. The center is designed for self-service drop-offs: no securities, no checkpoints. People just walk or drive in with their waste. For households, it is free (already covered in their waste retribution fees); businesses pay per visit. Surprisingly, there is no staff at the entrance — only a few CCTVs that capture license plates and automatically register and bill accordingly.

Of course, I asked, “What if a business owner uses their private car to dump waste instead?” The manager replied with the same mindset I had heard before: “It does not happen that much. Not enough people cheat the system.”

My next question was, “How do you ensure there is no contamination across the 20 different recyclable categories?” He then said, “If someone makes a mistake, we let them know and ask them not to repeat it.”

“And if they keep doing it?” I probed further. “We do nothing. Maybe less than 5% of people are stubborn. We can tolerate that.”

Another mind-blown moment: trust, again, is a powerful behaviour change enabler. The system trusts that most people will do the right thing, so they focus their resources on helping, not policing.

And that trust is matched by thoughtful system design. Containers are placed underground — essentially large holes — making it easier to dispose of waste properly. New waste categories were introduced slowly over decades to avoid overwhelming households (for example, food waste sorting was only introduced in 2021).

And their waste retribution fees? Completely transparent. The fees are calculated based on the total costs of collection, transportation, incineration, and recycling, minus the revenue earned from selling recyclables. The final cost is divided equally among all households. It is a dynamic system: if households sort better and recycling value increases, fees can go down.

Importantly, this fee is separate from taxes. The philosophy is simple: waste will always exist, regardless of national politics or budget priorities. Waste management should be funded based directly on the real cost of handling waste, not influenced by unrelated government spending.

On my final day in Copenhagen, I had the chance to visit one of the city’s incinerator plants. Surprisingly or not surprisingly, the massive facility was managed by just 4–5 people at a time — only two in the control room monitoring the indicators, and another two on standby for any needed repairs. As I walked around, I barely saw a soul; only the heat humming, doing their work. The chimney was stabbed with dozens of measuring instruments, all working overtime to ensure the final smokes were clean, pure white, and non-toxic.

During the visit, the plant manager casually mentioned a surprising challenge: it is getting harder to find enough waste to burn. Denmark’s rising recycling rate means less and less waste is arriving at incinerators, even though the plant must operate 24/7 to remain efficient.

What an irony, I thought — succeeding too well at recycling is now creating a new challenge.

The final conclusion

“How do we build trust in the first place?” I wonder about that a lot. One thing I am sure of — it does not happen overnight. In one of the classes I attended, the instructor shared this formula:

Credibility is about your words — do people believe you know what you’re talking about? Reliability is about your actions — do you do what you say you will do? Intimacy is about safety — do people feel comfortable being honest with you? And finally, self-orientation is about intent — are you in it for others, or just for yourself? The lower your self-orientation, the stronger the trust you can build.

Trust is not just about being good at what you do — it is about showing up with integrity and empathy, consistently, over time.”

Trust is built through reputation. It is built through history. In one introduction to Danish culture, I learned, “Danes generally support their monarchy due to a mix of tradition, national unity, and the royal family’s approachable, down-to-earth demeanour. The royals are actively engaged in public life, which makes them relatable.”

That trust was not built overnight — it has been earned over time, layer by layer, until it became a strong and lasting foundation.

I could go on — there were so many things that fascinated me, from Denmark’s pork industry to the sight of babies left napping in their strollers outside restaurants (yes, you read that right — alone without adult supervision). But I guess I should stop here. I had a truly enjoyable time in Denmark. Oh also, I met wonderful friends, got a little drunk dancing to Swedish music, and played international ping-pong matches with friends from three different continents. Now, it is time to get back to the grind in Jakarta — hopefully, with a little more clarity and trust in the process.

When I stepped into entrepreneurship, I had no idea what was coming. I have always been the type to avoid overthinking about what might happen. For years, I have lived by the mantra “just do it” (and no, this writing is not sponsored by Nike). I always believed I had built enough capacity and capability to fall back into the working world if needed. So, when someone approached me with the idea of starting a business together, my instinct was to say, “Yes, let’s do it.”

The startup I am currently running is my third venture into entrepreneurship. My first attempt was a traditional t-shirt business, the second was an online career counselling platform, and now — waste management. This is the first time I have gone all in, dedicating myself full-time. It has been over a year since I left my last job to pursue this full-time, and 2024 has been a steep learning curve. Despite the challenges, I have no regrets. I made mistakes — many of them — but what is human if not fallible? As long as we learn and grow from our mistakes. With that perspective, as the new year unfolds, here are the key lessons I have learned from my social entrepreneurship journey over the past year.

It is not easy, but then again, what is?

We all know entrepreneurship is tough, and social entrepreneurship adds another layer of complexity. Not only do we need to make money, but we also have to create meaningful social impact. Making money alone is already a challenge, and balancing both is no small feat. Starting was the hardest part for me. Deciding to leave a stable monthly income was tough. I have bills to pay and responsibilities to my parents. The thought of failing and not earning felt scary — was I just playing at privilege when I could not really afford to?

Fortunately, over the past year, our startup has generated enough revenue to pay our salaries (not much, but enough to extend my personal burn rate) and has secured funding from angel investors. The journey has been far from smooth, but somehow, we have crossed the line every time it mattered. Progress has been incremental, and each step forward reinforces our direction and momentum. Every day feels a little clearer than the one before.

Entrepreneurship is hard. But I believe it is even harder to remain a cog in a machine doing work you do not believe in.

Full-fledged decision-making

One major realisation this year has been the weight of decision-making. Gone are the days when someone else would review my work and take responsibility for the final call. Now, I own every decision, good or bad. A single poor choice could mean losing clients or being unable to pay staff salaries, which is a heavy burden to bear.

Daily life as an entrepreneur involves making countless decisions, each with the potential to impact the company significantly. As intimidating as it sounds, I have learned the value of “failing fast and learning faster.” There is no point agonising over hundreds of options — outcomes remain uncertain until tested. Over the past year, we have tried numerous business models and we have tried to do many different initiatives. But I think that is the beauty of entrepreneurship: the freedom to make mistakes, learn, iterate, and grow. It is liberating in its own way.

I am still not the smartest in the room

If you think being a startup founder means knowing everything about your business, you are wrong. I may be the more experienced person in the company, but I am far from the smartest. Time and again, I find myself relying on my team’s expertise. Time and again, there were countless instances where others knew better than me.

This journey has been humbling, both within the company and among fellow entrepreneurs. What I love the most about the entrepreneurial journey is the opportunity to connect with fellow entrepreneurs. Every time that happens, without fail, I cannot help but marvel at how amazing each and every one of them is. How much I still lack as a beginner entrepreneur to even call myself one. Entrepreneurs deserve respect, and I am trying my best to earn that title.

The art of letting go

This has been one of the hardest lessons: knowing when to let go of certain viewpoints, tasks, or responsibilities. When is the right time to say I was wrong? When is the right time to delegate? How do you balance between doing something yourself and entrusting it to someone else? Throughout the year, I have often found myself holding on to too much because I thought, “If I can do it, why involve others?” And many times, I fought for what I believed was right, not realising it might just be my ego speaking.

I wish there were a formula for letting go, but I have come to see it as an art. It is a delicate balance between time and quality, learning and teaching, feeding your ego, and proving yourself wrong. There is no one-size-fits-all answer, yet it is a skill we must develop. It is an art, and I am still learning.

At the end, it is about teamwork

If 2024 has taught me one thing above all, it is the value of teamwork. I can only go so far on my own, but having people who share the same mission makes everything more manageable and achievable. Looking back, there are so many ideas and decisions I would not have arrived at without the input and support of my team.

We argue a lot, no doubt about that. But we also listen, learn, and take responsibility together. I am incredibly fortunate to work with people who believe in me despite my mistakes, and who give their best every day because they care. These are the people I am proud to call my team.

What a year it has been, both professionally and personally. I thought my decade-long career had taught me a lot, but 2024 proved that learning never ends. It has been a challenging yet rewarding journey, and I am truly looking forward to what 2025 holds. Bring it on!

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One Year Into Social Entrepreneurship, Here’s My Takeaway was originally published in Startup Stash on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

The recent negotiation round for the Global Plastic Treaty in Busan marked both progress and lingering challenges. Despite high hopes, delegates from 175 nations left the table without a consensus on key areas, emphasising the difficulty of creating a legally binding international instrument to address plastic pollution.

As I wrote in my preview to Busan back in October, “This treaty is something that many environmental enthusiasts, including myself, have awaited anxiously and excitedly. I believe it will be instrumental — a key to our long fight against plastic pollution. It will accelerate the transition to sustainable production and consumption, propelling progress forward.”

The meeting in Busan was to be the fifth and final (INC-5), heralded in advance as when “175 nations agree to develop a legally binding agreement on plastic pollution by 2024”.

Rather than fifth and final, however, the INC-5 text remained heavily bracketed, signalling unresolved disagreements on crucial issues, such as product bans, supply chain regulations, and financial support for developing nations. While it was disappointing not to see an agreement reached, this outcome was not entirely unexpected given the complexity of the issues at hand.

At a glance, it might seem like a setback, but if history has taught us anything, it is that major global agreements do not happen overnight. Instead, they are the result of long, difficult negotiations, filled with compromise, incremental progress, and perseverance. Busan is not the end of the road — it is just one stop in a long journey toward tackling the global plastic crisis.

The Sticking Points: What We Could Not Agree On

One of the biggest challenges in Busan was what we expected: the disagreement over how far the treaty should go in regulating plastics. While everyone acknowledges the need for action, countries remain divided over the specifics of what that action should look like. Here are some of the key areas of contention that I observed in the latest draft of the Chair’s Text, published on the first of December:

1. Prohibit vs Reduce

A fundamental debate emerged over whether the treaty should prohibit certain plastic products outright or merely aim to reduce them. The wording matters because it shapes the level of ambition the treaty demands:

“Each Party shall take [appropriate measures] to [prohibit [or reduce] the manufacture, export, or import] of [single-use or short-lived] plastic products [that are proven to pose a risk to the environment or human health].”

— Chair’s Text, pg.4

Some countries, particularly those with strong environmental commitments, pushed for global bans on plastics that are hazardous, likely to leak into the environment, or incapable of being reused or recycled. Others argued for a more flexible approach that allows countries to phase down problematic plastics based on their national circumstances and capacities.

This tension is understandable. For countries heavily reliant on plastic production or struggling to develop alternative materials, an outright prohibition could cause significant economic disruption. On the other hand, without strong global rules, the environmental damage caused by mismanaged plastics will only worsen.

2. Regulating Plastic Supply and Production

Article 6 of the draft treaty raises another contentious issue: should the treaty include global targets to reduce the production of plastics, particularly virgin polymers? Some countries advocate for ambitious supply-side targets, arguing that reducing production is key to tackling plastic pollution at its source. Others, however, are reluctant to commit to such measures, fearing economic losses and job impacts in plastic-producing industries.

The debate boils down to a simple yet hard-to-answer question: How do we balance environmental goals with economic realities? For nations with growing populations and developing economies, plastics remain an essential material. Phasing down production without adequate alternatives could have unintended consequences, such as disrupting essential industries or shifting environmental burdens elsewhere.

3. Financing the Transition

Perhaps the thorniest issue of all is the question of who pays for the transition to better plastic management systems. Article 11 of the draft treaty addresses this by proposing the establishment of a dedicated financial mechanism:

“Each [developed country] Party [shall] [undertakes to] [shall contribute funds and resources for the dedicated financial mechanism] provide, [within its capabilities,] resources [to developing country Parties] for activities intended to achieve the objectives of this [Convention] [instrument], taking into account national policies, priorities, plans, and programmes.”

— Chair’s Text, pg.12

Developing nations argue that they need financial and technical support to implement the treaty’s measures. After all, many of these countries bear the brunt of plastic pollution, even though they contribute far less to its production. Meanwhile, wealthier nations are hesitant to commit to large-scale funding without clear accountability mechanisms.

The debate reflects broader inequalities in global environmental governance. Developing nations rightfully demand fairness: they should not be expected to tackle a problem largely created by wealthier, high-producing countries without adequate resources. But reaching consensus on financial commitments is always difficult in multilateral negotiations.

Why Consensus Is So Hard to Reach

The difficulty in achieving consensus stems from the sheer complexity of plastic pollution and its intersection with economic, social, and environmental issues. Unlike climate change, which focuses on greenhouse gas emissions, plastic pollution spans the entire lifecycle of plastics: from extraction, production, and use to disposal, trade, and leakage into the environment. It affects countries in vastly different ways, which is why their priorities often clash:

• Wealthier countries are pushing for ambitious global controls on production, trade, and single-use plastics.
• Developing nations emphasise the need for flexibility, financial support, and technical assistance to manage plastic waste more effectively.
• Plastic-producing nations and industries resist measures that could disrupt their economies, especially without viable alternatives.

The most persistent issue remains the cap on plastic production. A proposal led by Panama, with the backing of over 100 countries, seeks to establish a global target for reducing plastic production. However, this proposal faces strong opposition from the “like-minded” bloc of petrochemical producers, led by Saudi Arabia and including Russia, Iran, and other Arab states, who argue against imposing production limits.

“There was never any consensus. There are a couple of articles that somehow seem to make it (into the document) despite our continued insistence that they are not within the scope.” — said Saudi Arabian delegate Abdulrahman Al Gwaiz

While this division seem irreconcilable, I think there is still hope for convergence. Plastic production has been widely recognised as a significant driver of climate change. Without decisive action, the growth in plastic production could derail global climate goals. Scientists estimate that to keep global warming within 1.5 degrees Celsius, a 75% reduction in plastic production is required by 2040. Without such cuts, plastic production alone could consume up to 31% of the world’s remaining carbon budget to stay under this critical threshold.

A strong global plastic treaty could complement the relatively robust Paris Agreement, creating pressure for the minority bloc of petrochemical-producing nations to align with the majority. Such a unified approach would not only limit plastic pollution but also boost efforts to combat climate change, reinforcing the interdependence of environmental and climate strategies. While consensus may remain difficult for now, the urgency of the issue and the mounting evidence of its global impact may eventually bridge the divide.

The Good News: What Has Been Agreed

Despite the disagreements, the Busan negotiations did see progress in several key areas:

• Plastic Product Design: Countries agreed on the need to improve plastic product design to support circular economy approaches. This includes fostering innovation, developing sustainable alternatives, and ensuring products are easier to reuse or recycle.

“Each Party shall, taking into account its national circumstances and capabilities, take appropriate measures to: (a) improve plastic product design, in pursuit of circular economy approaches, (b) foster research, innovation, development and use of sustainable and safer alternatives and nonplastic substitutes

— Chair’s Text, pg.8

• Plastic Waste Management and Existing Pollution: There is broad consensus on improving waste management systems, reducing plastic leaks into the environment, and addressing existing plastic pollution (Articles 7–9).
• Just Transition: It is encouraging to see that negotiators have agreed and included article 10 to explicitly addressing just transition. A dedicated article will allows nations to prioritise equity and inclusion throughout the treaty’s implementation.

“Each Party should take into account the situation of and engage workers in the formal and informal sectors, including workers in the plastic industry, waste pickers, artisanal and small-scale fishers, small and medium enterprises, as well as communities and groups disproportionately affected by such transition across the full life cycle of plastics, including Indigenous Peoples, local communities, women and children.”

— Chair’s Text, pg.11

These agreements matter because they lay a foundation for future progress. Even if the treaty is not finalised yet, these areas of consensus reflect a growing global commitment to tackling plastic pollution, and it is important.

History Repeats Itself: Lessons from Climate Agreements

While the stalemate in Busan may feel frustrating, it is worth reflecting on the history of climate negotiations to understand that global agreements take time. The journey toward the Paris Agreement, for example, spanned decades. It began with the adoption of the UNFCCC in 1992, which laid the foundation for international climate action. The Kyoto Protocol (1997) represented a significant milestone but faced challenges due to the lack of participation from major economies like the United States and the limited inclusion of developing nations.

It was not until the Paris Agreement (2015) that the world reached a comprehensive and inclusive framework. Even then, the agreement’s targets were aspirational, and its success depended on countries submitting progressively ambitious national commitments over time.

But important to note also, there is a notable difference in the pace of negotiations. The Intergovernmental Negotiating Committee (INC) for Climate Change, which led to the UNFCCC, concluded within 15 months. By contrast, the INC for Plastic Pollution has struggled to reach consensus even after 24 months. This delay is concerning, as pollution continues to accumulate in our oceans, and public trust in the process risks further erosion.

The delay can be seen as a double-edged sword. On one hand, taking time could result in a robust treaty with meaningful obligations rather than a weak agreement that fails to address the crisis effectively. On the other hand, the difficulty in reaching initial consensus may signal even greater challenges for future Conferences of the Parties (COP) on plastic pollution.

Nonetheless, the key lesson here is that multilateral agreements evolve gradually, often through incremental progress and iterative negotiations. It is difficult and it is slow, but it is not impossible.

Why There Is Still Reason for Optimism

Despite the challenges, I am remain hopeful about the Global Plastic Treaty’s ability to drive meaningful change for the following reasons:

1. Growing Global Momentum: More countries than ever are standing firm on the need to address plastic pollution at its core. There is broad recognition that this is not just a waste issue — it’s an environmental, economic, and social crisis that demands urgent action. This signals a growing commitment to systemic change rather than temporary fixes.
2. Historical Precedent: The climate negotiations teach us that global agreements take time. It took decades to move from the UNFCCC to the Paris Agreement. The process was slow, but it worked. The same patience and perseverance will be needed to finalise the Global Plastic Treaty.
3. Incremental Progress: The areas of agreement reached in Busan — on product design, waste management, and just transition — show that progress is happening. These agreements can serve as stepping stones toward more ambitious measures in the future.
4. Ceaseless Pressure: Public awareness of plastic pollution is growing, and so is the pressure on governments to act. From scientific evidence to grassroots campaigns, the demand for a plastic-free future is stronger than ever. Nations cannot afford to ignore it.

The Road Ahead: INC-5.2 and Beyond

The next round of negotiations, INC-5.2, will be a crucial opportunity to build on the progress made in Busan and tackle the unresolved issues head-on. Countries will need to show greater willingness to compromise while keeping their eyes on the bigger picture: a world free from plastic pollution.

Yes, the road ahead is long, and yes, the negotiations will continue to be difficult. But if history has shown us anything, it is that persistence pays off. Just as the world eventually united to combat climate change, it can come together to reverse plastic pollution. We are already on the path, and while it will take time, the destination —a cleaner, more sustainable future— is worth every step.

What’s Next for the Global Plastic Treaty: A Complex Road Ahead was originally published in The New Climate. on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

It was an “historic day” proclaimed the UN: “175 nations agree to develop a legally binding agreement on plastic pollution by 2024, prompting a major step towards reducing greenhouse gas emissions from plastic production, use and disposal.”

“Against the backdrop of geopolitical turmoil, the UN Environment Assembly shows multilateral cooperation at its best,” said the President of UNEA-5 and Norway’s Minister for Climate and the Environment, Espen Barth Eide, “Plastic pollution has grown into an epidemic. With today’s resolution we are officially on track for a cure.”

That announcement came in March 2022, with the ambition of completing a draft global legally binding agreement by the end of 2024. But today, as we reach the end of 2024, what will that legal agreement look like? And will it work?

The goal is to develop ‘the instrument’ which will be based on a comprehensive approach addressing the entire life cycle of plastic, including its production, design, and disposal. Through this International Legally Binding Instrument (ILBI), countries will be responsible for implementing globally aligned policies that meet the set targets. Think of it as the Paris Agreement, but for plastic pollution.

An Intergovernmental Negotiating Committee (INC) was established to facilitate five meetings aimed at developing this global framework and setting targets. INC-1 took place in November 2022 in Punta del Este, Uruguay; INC-2 was held in May 2023 in Paris, France. INC-3, marking the midpoint of the process, occurred in November 2023, in Nairobi, Kenya. INC-4 took place in April 2024 in Ottawa, Canada, and the final session, INC-5, is scheduled for November 2024 in Busan, South Korea.

In the near future, we will witness the historic establishment of a global plastic treaty. This treaty is something that many environmental enthusiasts, including myself, have awaited anxiously and excitedly. I believe it will be instrumental — a key to our long fight against plastic pollution. It will accelerate the transition to sustainable production and consumption, propelling progress forward. It will get the sustainable ball rolling, faster.

And as someone building a waste traceability start-up in Indonesia, this treaty holds personal significance for me. It could either drive growth in my industry or cause stagnation.

However, the current draft of the treaty is daunting to some, especially those not familiar with the “plastic” field. It has expanded from a draft of about thirty pages to a compilation text of seventy-seven pages. This article aims to summarise and simplify the key points, provide an overview of what the global plastic treaty is, where the tension points lie, and what we can expect to happen this year. (And if you want to delve further, you can also check the full version of the UN text here).

The 13 areas to be agreed upon

Thirteen may not sound like a lot, but when you have 175 countries needing to reach a consensus, that is almost impossible. I cannot even get everyone in my seven-person start-up happy without a heated debate about what to eat for lunch — what more a globally binding agreement on plastic pollution? But we enjoy a mission impossible, do we not?

1. Primary Plastic Polymers

The idea is to set a limit and establish a reduction target for the production of primary plastic polymers. This is deemed necessary, especially for countries with inadequate waste management. This follows the principles of responsible production, which state that we should only produce items that we can manage after their use. Currently, we are producing more plastic than we can handle in terms of post-waste management.

2. Chemicals and polymers of concern

This section of the Agreement aims to identify hazardous chemicals and polymers to avoid and outline how we can control and regulate these substances. The goal is to minimise human and environmental exposure to these chemicals of concern. This should be implemented through domestic measures, which will then be reflected in national plans.

3. Problematic and avoidable plastic products

This section aims to identify problematic plastic products, particularly single-use plastics and short-lived items. Additionally, it discusses the measures required to reduce the production, sale, import, and export of these avoidable plastic products. The debate revolves around the necessity to encourage the banning, phasing out, or restricting of these items.

4. Available exceptions for Parties upon request

This section discusses the possibility of making exceptions for certain countries through special requests. It recognises that not all countries may have the capabilities or capacities to comply directly with the treaty and may require these exceptions.

5. Product design, composition, and performance

How can we enforce better product design from the very beginning to reduce the waste generated afterward? That is probably the main question to be addressed in this section. The guidelines will focus on adopting more sustainable product designs, including reducing the use of plastics in product packaging and improving the durability, reusability, and recyclability of products. This section will also discuss advancing repair and the use of recycled plastic content.

6. Non-plastic alternatives

What can a country do to encourage innovation for the development and mass adoption of sustainable non-plastic substitutes? This involves not only providing incentives to accelerate innovation but also encouraging the large-scale use of non-plastic materials that are safer and more environmentally friendly.

7. Extended producer responsibility (EPR)

The topic of EPR cannot be excluded from the discussion on plastic pollution. This section calls for establishing and operating an EPR scheme in each country to promote recycling and enhance producer accountability in managing their post-consumer waste. The issue of traceability will inevitably be discussed here, and it will be interesting to see how this topic develops, as traceability has proven to be a challenge everywhere.

8. Emissions and releases of plastics throughout their life cycle

This issue is closely related to the notorious problem of microplastics. So, what can we do to prevent and reduce, or ideally eliminate, the release of plastics and their components into the environment throughout their life cycle? This includes addressing issues from production and distribution all the way to their end of life.

9. Waste management

The most non-negotiable and perhaps least debatable area is waste management. No country will deny the importance of improving waste management, from collection and recycling to safe disposal. This section will emphasise the need to encourage investment and mobilisation of resources to establish effective waste management systems and infrastructure. Additionally, some countries highlight the necessity of providing incentives for behavioural change throughout the waste value chain. What can and should countries do to transform their citizens’ waste habits into more responsible practices?

10. Trade

Discussion here revolves around addressing the issue of plastic waste dumping in ‘poorer’ countries, a common phenomenon and highly debatable topic. With China leading the way by banning the import of plastic waste, the focus is on ensuring that no country can claim to have fulfilled its responsibilities while exporting low-value materials to others. This section will specifically concentrate on the possibility of establishing global rules to prohibit cross-border trade in plastic waste and hazardous polymers.

11. Existing plastic pollution, including in the marine environment

What has been done wrong needs to be corrected, and that is the focus of this chapter. It discusses the required mitigation measures and effective remedial actions at identified pollution sites, including activities such as cleanup actions. The debate primarily centers on whether this section will be binding or lean more towards voluntary cooperation.

12. Just transition

With all the proposed changes, vulnerable communities will be affected. It is essential to ensure that the transition towards a more sustainable lifestyle and better waste management considers promoting a fair and inclusive transition for the affected populations. This means supporting the most impacted communities, such as waste pickers, and acknowledging their roles and the potential impact on their livelihoods as the plastic treaty is implemented.

13. Transparency, tracking, reporting, and labelling

And finally (a big clap for making it to the last point!), we are discussing the need to encourage greater transparency across the value chain, enabling traceable national progress reporting. This should lead to the publication of standardised reports across the 175 participating countries. Additionally, this section aims to establish global rules on product labelling to support the implementation of more circular plastics.

There are a few more chapters being discussed in the current draft of the treaty, particularly those on financing mechanisms, capacity building, governing bodies, and more. However, I will leave it to you to read further about these topics.

The remaining tension points

You can now count yourself amongst the top percentile of humanity who are well-versed in the upcoming global plastic treaty. In essence, the treaty addresses important topics that we should all agree on to progress toward overcoming plastic pollution. From limiting the production of plastic polymers to mandating proper waste management across countries, these initiatives are drafted with good will. From an environmentalist’s point of view, all thirteen areas should be set as stringently as possible to enable the fastest transition.

However, we can only dream of a world without conflict or disagreement. As expected, several tension points have arisen, highlighting the complexity of agreeing on the treaty’s scope and ambition. I believe several key points must be agreed upon at the last INC-5 in Busan, which will determine whether we can get a solid global plastic treaty. These are:

1. The definition of plastic.

At which point in the plastic life cycle do we consider this treaty to begin? At what stage do we define plastic as a problem? When can we say it falls outside the scope of this treaty? This debate pits countries that rely on petrochemical and plastic production for their national economy against historically fossil fuel-friendly nations. The former argue that we should only define plastic once it becomes a product, rather than regulating plastic polymers within this treaty. According to them, limiting production could hinder economic growth and industrial progress, creating negative impacts on societal functions. Conversely, the latter group advocates recognising that the problem begins at the source, suggesting that the entire life cycle of plastic should be the primary focus of regulation by this instrument.

2. Extended Producer Responsibility (EPR).

While almost all countries agree on the importance of having a proper EPR scheme to fund waste management, collection, and recycling, some debate that the direction on how to implement it, and in what form, should be left to the discretion of each country. Should it be a voluntary agreement rather than a mandatory one? Given that each country has different conditions regarding waste management and capabilities, some support the idea that an EPR scheme should be tailored to each country’s context.

3. Whether to set a global target or allow national targets?

Should this treaty establish a universal target for all countries to achieve within a specific timeframe, or should it permit flexibility, allowing each country to set its own national targets? Some assert the importance of national sovereignty in target setting, advocating for countries to tailor their commitments based on specific circumstances and capacities. Others argue for globally agreed, legally binding, and time-bound targets, claiming they create a level playing field for industries, stimulate innovation, and attract investment by providing certainty and consistency across borders.

A reflection: what will be considered “just”?

What keeps me less hopeful is not the possibility of this treaty being non-stringent, but whether it will be just and inclusive in its implementation. If you watch this three-minute video about an Indonesian village that has become a dumping ground for developed countries’ “recycling” waste, you will understand why ensuring a just transition is so challenging.

“If the government decides to send the trash back, it will cause turmoil. People will be angry. It’s better to work like this rather than working in a factory. I’m free.” said Mbah Bodo — resident of Bangun Village

In this village, residents pay to purchase recycled plastic waste sent from developed countries. They then sort this waste and resell it at a higher price. While the income from sorting is better than factory work, they have witnessed the environmental and health impacts on their community. Still, they say it is better than being hungry.

I feel conflicted. If the treaty progresses and the section on trade is properly enacted, these villagers who rely on sorting foreign recycled waste will lose their jobs, becoming the first to suffer. Is it just to allow them to bear this burden? Are we drafting a treaty for a better future for ourselves while allowing them to suffer in the short term?

So, that is the question that I deeply hope will be discussed and agreed upon in an inclusive way to incorporate the most vulnerable communities into the treaty. Each country should have a strategy for a just transition, specifically for these people. I believe that this is the most challenging part of completing this mission impossible.

We have to start somewhere

The upcoming INC-5 in Busan will be very interesting. We will see if humanity can accomplish the mission impossible. It will be an extremely challenging task to balance power and fairness while considering environmental and economic growth. Once again, it is a mission impossible to agree on effective terms for advancing circularity across 175 countries. My little wish is that this global plastic treaty will achieve some concrete action plans for countries worldwide, rather than just vague agreements to address plastic pollution.

It is not going to be easy, but I believe we are off to a good start. We just need to begin, albeit late. After all, life is about making progress.

Everything You Need to Know About the Upcoming Global Plastics Treaty was originally published in The New Climate. on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Since I worked in a “green” industry a few years back, I have often been asked: what skills are required to successfully enter or transition into these new, emerging fields?

Before we dive into the details of green skills, I thought of clarifying what I mean by “green jobs.” What exactly is this “green revolution”? Does it just involve planting trees?

Green jobs: beyond planting trees

In the not-so-distant future, green jobs are predicted to be the future of work. Everything will need to transition into a greener business model — one that prioritises long-term sustainability of the planet and people, beyond just profit. It is estimated that the green economy could create more than 8.4 million jobs for youth by 2030.

So, what do we mean by green economy? I would like to define them based on three criteria:

1. Supporting energy and natural resource efficiency
2. Reducing waste and pollution
3. Protecting and conserving ecosystems

When we think of green jobs, we often focus on industries created by new green technologies, such as solar battery research or electric vehicles development. Or we consider the less glamorous, but equally important, fields like waste management and recycling. These are the clear-cut examples — industries whose core business models directly align with one of the three green criteria.

But it is crucial to remember that eventually, every business will need to transition into a green business. Take, for example, the mining industry, which is inherently extractive. We cannot mine natural resources forever, so the challenge becomes: how can we reduce dependency on mining so the business can remain profitable longer? It is starting to become not only an environmental decision — but an economic one.

Consumer goods industry offer another case in point. The current goal may be to sell as many products as possible. But looking 40–50 years ahead, will there still be resources left to sell? Will there be enough virgin plastic for packaging? Likely not — fun fact: known oil-deposits will run out by 2052. If we continue with short-term thinking, we may run out of resources entirely.

The bottom line is that every business needs to shift towards greener operations. If you work at a tech company, the question might be as simple as: how can we reduce the energy needed to run our servers? That, too, is a green job, because it is about increasing energy efficiency (yes, criteria no.1). In the consumer goods industry, the challenge could be managing post-consumer waste — not just collecting and recycling (which helps reduce virgin material use), but innovating packaging to use less material while maintaining quality, and developing reuse and refill systems. All of this falls under the category of green jobs.

There are also generalist roles growing alongside the green sector, like in technology, public policy, finance, and reporting. Technology has always been a driver of transformation, and green industries are no exception. Calculating carbon emissions, for example, would be nearly impossible without the right tech tools. Then there is carbon accounting and green financing — a growing field for finance professionals. How do we shift from measuring only monetary value to evaluating the full cycle of a business, including its impact on biodiversity? Public policy plays a crucial role here, too. We need all advocacy efforts to move political thinking away from GDP as the only measure of success, towards a more inclusive wealth index.

Inclusive wealth index is an index based on the sum of a country’s natural, human, social, and physical (including manufactured and financial) capital, and goes beyond conventional forms of wealth measurement such as gross domestic product (GDP).

Green skills: the wizardry to transform businesses

I have talked at length about green jobs, with the hope of convincing you, my readers, that green jobs are indeed our future. No matter how much we delay, future generations will eventually bear the consequences of our mistakes. So, why not make a change now, while we still can?

Reports indicate that between 2022 and 2023, the percentage of professionals with skills to tackle the climate crisis rose by 12.3%. However, job postings requiring at least one green skill grew nearly twice as fast, increasing by 22.4% during the same period. Clearly, there’s a mismatch — there are more green jobs than there are green-skilled workers.

Hence, there is demand, and there is a future. So, what are these green skills?

According to the UN Industrial Development Organization:

Green skills are the knowledge, abilities, values and attitudes needed to live in, develop and support a sustainable and resource-efficient society.

Simply put, they are the skills needed to work in a green job. I like how Pavlova (2017) breaks them down into three levels and below is the simplified version that I created:

• Foundational Level: It starts with the right mindset and behaviour towards sustainability. Without a genuine concern for nature and biodiversity, working in this field will feel like an uphill battle. Unless we deeply care, progress in the green transition will be slow, which would not be enough to counter the rapid approach to the 1.5°C threshold. So, look around — how much more destruction do we need before we start caring?
• Operational Level: These are the upgraded skills necessary to transform traditional industries. Skills like sustainability reporting, for instance, allow businesses to make data-driven decisions — just as they do with financial data today. Life cycle assessment (LCA) is another crucial skill that provides a comprehensive view of a business’s environmental impact, enabling more informed decision-making.
• Specialist Level: The cherry on top — skills emerging from new industries specifically dedicated to fighting climate change. These include innovating in green technologies like EV batteries, maintaining solar PV grid, or even developing machinery to recycle hard-to-recycle materials. These are the skills that will accelerate the green transformation.

Ready to jump on the bandwagon of green transformation?

I will admit, I am selfishly asking more people to join the green transformation. But we genuinely need more young, mid-career, and even seasoned professionals to lead the way toward a greener future. This future affects all of us. Even if we are not directly impacted yet (though we have all felt the hotter weather and erratic rainy seasons), our children and grandchildren certainly will be.

I always like to remind us: if not now, when? If not us, who?

I hope this little piece helps demystify green transformation, green jobs, and green skills. It is not as complicated as it seems. We just need the heart to care about others — whether human, animal, or nature — and the rest will follow.

Bulan Agustus, bulan ketika Indonesia merayakan kemerdekaannya. Kata “merdeka” sendiri berakar dalam jiwa bangsa, merujuk pada kebebasan dari belenggu penjajahan. Terciptalah kedaulatan dan kemandirian, serta identitas yang kini kita sebut sebagai Indonesia.

Namun, sering kali aku bertanya, siapa yang benar-benar merdeka dari siapa? Apakah arti kemerdekaan itu sama untuk setiap orang, dari Sabang hingga Merauke? Apakah masyarakat Aceh merasakan kemerdekaan dengan keindahan yang sama seperti masyarakat Jawa?

Indonesia, negeri yang menarik, tak terdiri dari satu etnis saja. Kita berasal dari kebudayaan yang beragam. Sejarah negeri ini dimulai jauh sebelum nama “Indonesia” dikenal. Bahkan di Pulau Jawa sendiri, kebudayaan timur, tengah, dan barat berbeda dengan sangat nyata. Yang menyatukan Indonesia adalah sejarah singkat saat wilayah ini dijajah oleh bangsa asing — yang kita sebut kolonialisme. Hal ini yang menyebabkan bisa-bisanya satu pulau Kalimantan di-kotak-kotak-an menjadi 3 negara yang berbeda. Ini yang menyebabkan sebuah pulau Papua bisa menjadi 2 negara yang berbeda.

Aku sering kali terpukau. Bukan karena kagum, melainkan karena keheranan. Heran pada manusia yang gemar sekali menciptakan batas-batas semu. Heran melihat sejarah yang terus berulang karena kita enggan belajar darinya.

Mungkin arti kemerdekaan berbeda bagi setiap orang. Namun, ada satu hal yang selalu kuharapkan konsisten: bahwa kemerdekaan harus bermakna baik bagi semua. Merdeka berarti ada kemajuan dari keadaan yang lebih buruk. Merdeka berarti kini kita memiliki kesempatan untuk memilih. Merdeka berarti hidup yang sepenuhnya milik kita sendiri.

Namun, apakah itu arti kemerdekaan yang dirasakan oleh semua orang? Sudahkah setiap orang di tanah air ini merasakan manisnya kemerdekaan?

Kemerdekaan yang kita raih bukanlah hadiah. Ini adalah hasil dari perjuangan yang tak mudah, buah dari kerja keras jutaan rakyat Indonesia. Kemerdekaan diperjuangkan dengan hati dan niat yang mulia, bahwa rakyat Indonesia layak hidup baik dan mampu memimpin hidupnya sendiri. Tapi, pertanyaannya tetap sama: sudahkah makna merdeka ini dirasakan oleh setiap orang?

Merdeka bukan sekadar status. Bukan pula sekadar pengakuan dari orang lain. Merdeka harus nyata dalam kehidupan. Apakah kita memiliki pilihan dalam hidup? Ketika kita masih kesulitan hanya untuk sesuap nasi, itu bukanlah kemerdekaan yang sejati.

Apa bedanya dengan penjajahan, jika kita hanya bisa meratapi hutan dan alam yang dihancurkan? Apa bedanya dengan penjajahan, jika kita tak diizinkan mengetahui fakta sejarah yang kelam?

Kemerdekaan harus terus diperjuangkan, bukan hanya sekali. Merdeka itu sulit diraih, lebih sulit lagi dipertahankan. Ketika kita lengah, mudah sekali terjebak dalam godaan kekuasaan dan melupakan apa yang dulu diperjuangkan.

Merdeka bukan sekadar status, merdeka haruslah nyata. Ketika kita bisa memilih siapa yang memimpin negeri ini, itulah arti merdeka. Ketika kita bisa memilih jalan hidup yang ingin dijalani, itulah arti merdeka. Ketika setiap dari kita diberikan kesempatan yang sama untuk berhasil, itulah arti merdeka.

Selamat Hari Kemerdekaan ke-79, Indonesia!

Last month, I joined a fellowship by Global Future X called Global Future Fellows. The topic of this year’s fellowship was something close to my heart: “Forging a Climate-Economy Equilibrium.” Coming from a finance background in my previous life, while now working on climate issues, it felt ironic at first. I gave up a finance job to start a climate-tech startup, always thinking that the two fields were incompatible.

What has happened to our planet is a result of our greed, fuelled by the current economic structure. The more we produce, the better. The more we consume, the more prosperous a country is. We have forgotten that consuming more now means less for the future. It is hard to turn back time, and I have often felt pessimistic about our future.

The four-day fellowship allowed me to meet 41 new friends from various sectors, including government, non-profits, academia, corporations, and startups. Just when I thought there was little hope in changing our trajectory, I began to see a new light at the end of the tunnel. The beauty of meeting a bunch of high-performing and fantastic people is that it re-energises you with new hope. A new hope that there are people who care. A new hope that there are those who take real action. A new hope that there are people who we can collaborate with to amplify our impact.

Collaborative governance

It is actually a new word that I learned throughout the fellowship. Copying from academic paper, collaborative governance is defined as;

the processes and structures of public policy decision making and management that engage people constructively across the boundaries of public agencies, levels of government, and/or the public, private and civic spheres in order to carry out a public purpose that could not otherwise be accomplished

I just have to like the last part of the definition, ….to carry out a public purpose that could not otherwise be accomplished. What is more public purpose than tackling climate change?

So, collaborative governance try to say that policy making cannot work in isolation. That ivory tower? That exactly is the type of policy that will cause chaos and solve no problems. What we need to strive for is a collaborative decision making. A process where each stakeholders get a say. A process that is participatory. A process that is not made in ivory tower.

Throughout the fellowship, I am hopeful that this could be done. Collaboration can be done, albeit difficult. It is a tougher journey, but it is the right one. No organisations, not even, or especially startups like mine can do our job alone. Startups need to be backed by good policy. Governments need businesses to run the economy. And the economy needs non-profits and academia to keep improving lives for more people.

We need each other, so what is so hard about collaborating? Well, it is hard. That is why it is worth doing. It is hard to lower our ego and start discussing. It is hard to listen and not to speak. Collaboration is about listening more, not speaking more. About finding common ground. About finding equilibrium, despite differences. Or actually, finding equilibrium, because differences.

I am starting to believe that a climate-economy equilibrium can work. It can work when both sides start to listen. What does the climate need within the boundaries of economic growth? What does the economy need within the boundaries of our environment? When one prioritises its own ego, that is when we fail to find equilibrium. So, listen more, we shall.

Can the Economy Work for Climate? Can Climate Work for the Economy? was originally published in Global Future Insight on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

What is truth? I often find myself asking this question. What is the truth about living on this Earth? What is the truth about liberation and freedom? What is the truth that humanity seeks?

Many philosophers, theologians, and scientists have tried to find the answers since the beginningless of time. Some offer abstract answers, while others provide vague definitions. Each attempt seems to only further complicate the matter, leading many of us to stop seeking the truth altogether.

While reading through some quotes about truth, I encountered one from Nietzsche, a German philosopher. I found his perspective to make a lot of sense and slightly easier to decipher. Let me start with his quote:

“Truths are illusions of which one has forgotten that they are illusions, metaphors that have become worn-out and deprived of their sensuous force, coins that have lost their imprint and are now no longer seen as coins but as metal.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche, On Truth and Untruth: Selected Writings

Cue to Perspectivism

Perspectivism is the philosophical position that one’s access to the world through perception, experience, and reason is possible only through one’s own perspective and interpretation. It rejects both the idea of a perspective-free or an interpretation-free objective reality.

For Nietzsche, truth was not a static, objective reality waiting to be discovered. Instead, it was a construct, a creation of human perception and language, bound by the limits of our understanding and experiences. Truth, in Nietzsche’s view, is not an immutable pillar but rather a dynamic interplay of interpretations. He famously declared,

“There are no facts, only interpretations.”

This statement encapsulates his belief that what we consider truth is merely a collective agreement, a shared fiction created and sustained by our cultures, languages, and experiences. Every claim to truth is an interpretation, a lens through which we view the world, coloured by our biases and limitations.

A story that perfectly illustrates Nietzsche’s perspective on truth is the ancient parable of the blind men and the elephant. In this tale, a group of blind men each touch a different part of an elephant and then describe what they felt. One, feeling the trunk, says the elephant is like a snake; another, feeling the leg, insists it is like a tree; yet another, touching the ear, claims the elephant is like a fan. Each man’s truth is shaped by his limited experience and perspective. None of them are entirely wrong, yet none of them capture the full reality of the elephant. What we think a truth is most likely partial and shaped by our perspectives. We each grasp a piece of the vast and complex reality, interpreting it through the lens of our experiences and biases.

Nietzsche criticised the notion of an absolute, unchanging truth. Nietzsche challenges us to question the foundations of our beliefs and to recognise the fluidity and subjectivity inherent in our perceptions. It invites us to embrace the multiplicity of interpretations rather than cling to the notion of a single, unchanging truth. Truth is a living, evolving concept, shaped by the diverse perspectives and experiences of individuals and societies.

Truth and Power

What is particularly interesting is the notion that truth is a tool used by those in power to maintain control. The narratives we accept as truths often serve the interests of those in positions of authority. Truth is often not the most rightful thing but the most believed and accepted by the majority. We see this in societal norms, religious dogmas, and most recently on social media, where information is abundant and often manipulated. In the digital age, opinions are easily swayed and algorithms effortlessly create interpretations on our behalf. Misinformation spreads like wildfire, and many of us forget to look beyond the surface and question the narratives imposed upon us.

Truth is whatever people believe. And when truth is intertwined with power, it suddenly becomes fragile. To challenge established truths is to challenge the structures of power themselves.

Reflecting on this, I would like to conclude that the quest for truth is not about finding final answers but about engaging in an ongoing process of interpretation and re-interpretation. It is about recognising our role in shaping it, as the creators of our own truth. It is about continually asking the right questions and not stopping at one truth. It is about understanding the nature of truth as a construct shaped by power and perspective.

So, what is truth? In the end, truth is not about the end but about engaging in the ever-evolving dance of life itself.

The real question is: How much truth can I stand?
-Friedrich Nietzsche-