When the Camera Matters More Than the Victims
Prof. Dr. Imam Subchi, M.A.
The debate over whether the floods and landslides devastating Sumatra constitute a national disaster should come to an end. There is no doubt that they do. What has unfolded is a profound national tragedy—an open wound inflicted by nature, exacerbated by human negligence. Once-thriving forests have vanished, leaving behind landscapes that now invite torrents of destruction.
In the aftermath, public attention has surged toward the disaster zones. Aid trucks, helicopters, and small boats have moved relentlessly to deliver assistance to survivors. The scale of solidarity is undeniable and deeply moving. Yet beneath this humanitarian response lies a troubling phenomenon: individuals who exploit tragedy for personal visibility. Instead of working quietly and effectively, they present themselves before cameras as last-minute saviors—staging gestures, making promises, and performing symbolic acts seemingly designed to elicit public admiration. This is narcissism wrapped in spectacle.
Professionalism in Crisis
In emergency situations where lives depend on speed, coordination, and precision, professionalism must be defined by the disciplined execution of roles and responsibilities with empathy. Governments, humanitarian agencies, and volunteers each occupy specific positions within an interconnected disaster-response system. Effectiveness depends on focus—logistics, evacuation, medical care, and recovery must function seamlessly.
However, this chain is often disrupted by performative behavior. Some figures prioritize visibility over substance, positioning themselves as heroic frontmen rather than contributors within a collective effort. Such conduct is not merely unprofessional; it undermines the very principles of solidarity and service.
This lack of empathy has tangible consequences. When time and resources are diverted toward ceremonial visits or camera arrangements, victims in urgent need may be neglected. Survivors, already traumatized, become mere backdrops in curated narratives of heroism. Their suffering is commodified, deepening their sense of exploitation rather than restoring dignity.
Beyond individual harm, this behavior erodes public trust. When disaster response appears driven by image-making rather than genuine assistance, cynicism grows. Public confidence in humanitarian efforts declines, weakening future solidarity and spontaneous aid. The long-term damage is profound: a betrayal of communal values that have long defined Indonesian society.
True professionalism in disaster response must therefore be redefined. It is not about visibility but about effectiveness behind the scenes. The real heroes are medical workers treating patients in emergency tents, logistics teams ensuring clean water distribution, and crews reopening access to isolated areas. Success should be measured in lives saved, aid delivered, and recovery accelerated—not in media appearances.
Topo Ngrame: Wisdom Against Narcissism
Those still captivated by cameras and hollow ceremonies would do well to revisit Indonesia’s philosophical heritage, particularly the Javanese concept of topo ngrame. Literally meaning “ascetic practice amid crowds,” topo ngrame teaches self-discipline, humility, and purity of intention in the midst of noise, praise, and temptation.
Its essence lies not in withdrawal from society but in active contribution grounded in inner restraint. A person practicing topogram remains calm, ethical, and focused despite attention and acclaim. In leadership and public service, this philosophy serves as an antidote to performative heroism. It emphasizes quiet effectiveness over self-promotion.
Historical figures such as Sunan Kalijaga embodied this principle. When spreading Islam in Cirebon and surrounding regions, he did not assert dominance as a scholar but lived among ordinary people, serving them humbly while introducing spiritual values. Such models remind us that meaningful impact does not require spectacle.
Without revisiting these values, society risks being consumed by excessive narcissism, leading to moral disorientation.
The Failure to Be Human
This obsession with visibility echoes the themes of Ningen Shikkaku (1948) by Osamu Dazai, translated as No Longer Human. The novel explores the collapse of humanity when individuals abandon authenticity in pursuit of social validation. Through the character Yozo Oba, Dazai illustrates how performing for acceptance ultimately leads to alienation and self-erasure.
In today’s context, this condition manifests in those who live for the camera. Like Oba, they replace genuine selfhood with carefully crafted personas. The camera becomes not a tool of documentation but a mirror reflecting an illusion they wish the world to believe.
Dazai warns that this is the deepest form of self-betrayal. When the mask fuses with the self, identity dissolves. Human relationships become transactional, driven by applause rather than mutual recognition. The result is existential emptiness—loneliness amid constant attention.
This is the true failure of humanity: losing the capacity to live honestly and meaningfully.
Dazai’s postwar reflection thus remains profoundly relevant in the digital age. To be human is not to shine brightest under the spotlight but to possess the courage to stand in one’s own imperfect light. Authenticity, not performance, defines human dignity.
Only by abandoning the stage—by embracing the spirit of toponomy—can individuals reclaim their humanity: fragile, imperfect, yet whole.
The author is Vice Rector of Syarif Hidayatullah State Islamic University Jakarta. The article was published in the opinion section of Rakyat Merdeka.