- 1 See “Ribuan buruh demo di Jakarta tuntut kenaikan upah dan hapus tunjangan anggota parlemen [Thousa (...)
- 2 See “Indonesian politicians to have perks cut in bid to quell unrest”, Ben Hatton, BBC News, 31 Aug (...)
1When I was about to finalise this article, protests were shaking Indonesia, revealing deep-seated inequalities across the country, including in the labour sector. On 28 August 2025, thousands of workers in Indonesia protested to demand an end to outsourcing, an increase in the minimum wage, the prevention of mass layoffs, and a reform of labour tax. They also called for the passage of a new labour law without collective provisions, a law on asset seizure to combat corruption, and electoral reform.1 A few days earlier, on 25 August 2025, hundreds of students and civilians protested outside the House of Representatives of the Republic of Indonesia (Dewan Perwakilan Rakyat Republik Indonesia, DPR-RI) building about parliamentarians receiving an allowance increase of 50 million rupiah ($3,030) per month, which is nearly ten times the minimum wage in Jakarta. The situation escalated when Affan Kurniawan, a young ojek (motorbike taxi) driver and main provider for his family, died during a demonstration in Jakarta after a Mobil Brigade (Brimob) vehicle had run over him, leading to heightened public outrage and accusations of excessive police force.2 He was not even part of the protests.
2Affan’s tragic death prompted strong responses within the community of app delivery drivers. Those who saw their own struggles reflected in his story expressed sympathy and solidarity. Dealing with job insecurity, low pay, and the pressure to support their families, many app-based couriers face daily challenges like those of Affan. The recent protests have sparked a conversation about the challenges gig workers in Indonesia face, including among members of the delivery driver community who openly expressed their concerns and supported one another (Himawan 2025).
3These events shed light on serious issues—job insecurity, low pay, and the difficulties of caring for families in a capitalist system that often overlooks workers’ rights. The rise of flexible work arrangements in this digital age has only added to the uncertainty many people are confronted with in everyday life, making the idea of a steady income seem almost unattainable (Lianingsih et al. 2025: 140). However, these adversities do not affect people in Indonesia equally; for instance, factors like age, social economic status and gender strongly matter when addressing how people in the archipelago navigate the digital economy.
4This leads me to the aim of this article: to explore how women in Indonesia are shaping their futures in the Indonesian digital economy amid aspirations and adversities. How are they striving to materialise their “digital hoped-for futures” in the country’s working landscape? This term is intended to capture women’s aspirations for the future, and how they intend to make these become reality through digital means at the workplace. “Hoped-for” implies that these aspirations do not necessarily come true; instead, they are an ideal scenario.
5In what follows, I first explore transformations in the Indonesian labour market, spurred by the Covid-19 pandemic and the rise of digital technologies. The subsequent section addresses how fluid work arrangements increasingly shape the Indonesian work landscape. In the last part, this article proposes the concept of “digital hoped-for futures” and employs it to introduce the articles of this special issue that zoom in on young and middle-aged women, working as ojek drivers, bookstagrammers—literary influencers—, and women wearing the niqab (face veil) doing business.
- 3 See “November 2025: Tingkat Pengangguran Terbuka (TPT) sebesar 4,74 persen dan Rata-rata upah buruh (...)
- 4 See “Indonesia Demographics 2026 (Population, Age, Sex, Trends)”, Worldometer, URL: https://www.wor (...)
6With a working population of 147.91 million people according to the National Labour Force Survey (Sakernas) in November 2025,3 Indonesia has the most significant labour force in Southeast Asia and a young population with a median age of 30.7 years in 2026.4 The archipelago “is currently entering a ‘demographic bonus’ era in which the productive population (15-64 years) exceeds the non-productive population,” writes Pribadi (2024), referring to Statistics Indonesia. In fact, however, this phenomenon is not new. The country officially entered its “window of opportunity” in 2012, with a population of working age twice the number of children and elderly people (Badan Pusat Statistik 2022: v). However, this national average masks a geographical divide: urban centres like the Special Region of Jakarta (Daerah Khusus Jakarta, DKJ) have reaped the rewards since the 1980s by absorbing productive migrants, whereas regions in Eastern Indonesia such as Nusa Tenggara Timur remain burdened by high birth rates (ibid.: 14). The challenge of this period—expected to end by 2035—is ensuring that the surplus of labour translates into equitable prosperity before the population begins to age.
7The Covid-19 pandemic has acted as a magnifying glass, further dividing society and highlighting existing inequalities in the labour market. Regarding the legal landscape, the 2020 “Omnibus Law” heated the minds. It was introduced to ease investment and reduce obstacles for foreign investors. Between 8 and 10 October 2020, Indonesian workers went on a national strike, organised by trade and workers’ unions. The President of the Indonesian Trade Union Confederation (Konfederasi Serikat Pekerja Indonesia, KSPI), Said Iqbal, was quoted as saying: “We reiterate that the law severely erodes workers’ rights. It will eliminate sectoral and municipal minimum wage, decrease severance pay and increase labour flexibility.” (IndustriAll 2020.)
8As a response to the pressure, lawmakers were called upon to act. On 25 November 2021, the Constitutional Court ruled that the law was “conditionally unconstitutional,” considering petitions from labour unions such as the fact that the law “had greatly harmed the constitutional rights of workers/labourers and workers/labour unions stipulated in the 1945 Constitution.” (Constitutional Court of the Republic of Indonesia 2021). In response to this decision, by 30 December 2022, the government issued new regulations to amend several legal sectors. However, according to some critics, the changes, further developed into a new version of the law by March 2023, still did not sufficiently address labour rights concerns. For instance, on 14 February 2025, IndustriALL Global Union’s Indonesian affiliates collectively called on incumbent President Prabowo Subianto to replace the Omnibus Law with a worker-friendly labour law (IndustriAll 2025).
9Some concerns about the Omnibus Law included its perceived negative impact on workers, for example, because enterprises can more easily lay off employees without notice. A particular concern for female workers is the prevalence of precarious employment contracts. In addition, it reduces benefits like paid leave for menstruation, maternity, and breastfeeding, which may worsen the economic and social inequalities women are facing.
10The Covid-19 pandemic shook the Indonesian labour market; many companies sent their workers home. Since tasks typically performed outside the home—such as those that rely on specialised machinery in production sites—cannot easily be moved into homes, widespread layoffs became a significant issue. Companies faced challenges such as falling consumer demand, limited exports to certain countries, and declining revenues; among their measures were redundancies (Susilawati, Falefi & Purwoko 2020: 1152). Many people struggled, and they had to rely on family and friends for support.
11The pandemic has also reinforced the trend towards gendered unpaid care work. Compared to men, women across the globe “carry out three-quarters of unpaid care work,” thus providing the lion’s share (Charmes 2019: 3, 17). These tasks include cooking, shopping, caring for children and older adults and assisting their children with learning. Mothers, who played a critical role in containment efforts, stepped in when state education was disrupted and took on caring responsibilities (UN Women 2020: 6). They carried a special burden during the Covid-19 pandemic. Many had to abandon or reduce their paid employment. The mobility restrictions caused lowered incomes and reduced working hours and wages for women (Miranti et al. 2022).
12When assessing the impact of Covid-19, it is evident that digital transformation quickened during this period, but not uniformly across the archipelago. The pandemic spurred digital transformation as consumers and businesses extensively used digital technologies to navigate the mobility and cross-border restrictions imposed to control the health crisis. The digital infrastructure of regions closer to Jakarta is more developed, whereas regions like the North Moluccas (Maluku Utara) experienced a more modest setup (Wati, Čaplánová & Darmo 2024: 196). This disparity has raised concerns about equitable access to labour-market opportunities (ibid.: 104). Research indicates that Internet access had a less favourable impact on Covid-19 transmission in rural areas, particularly those with a strong agricultural presence, compared to urban regions, due to lower-quality Internet connections, impracticality of remote work in agriculture, and higher levels of digital illiteracy in these areas, all of which hinder the effective utilization of online resources (Kunz, Propper & Trinh 2024: 24-25).
13Considering the archipelago’s vastness and the often insufficient level of digital skills, it is a substantial challenge to secure equal opportunities between Java and other regions of the archipelago in the digital economy (Sapulette & Muchtar 2023: 4). Internet penetration rates differ by region, and digital technology may reinforce existing social class distinctions (Jurriëns & Tapsell 2017: 2). Such inequalities are often accompanied by differences in digital skills. To improve citizens’ digital skills and to strengthen the economy, the government has offered seminars on digital literacy. Some scholars have therefore suggested ICT and e-commerce training to “ensure a workforce capable of fully using digital technologies” (Suhendra et al. 2025: 11).
14Looking at how Indonesia’s gender dynamics in the labour sector have evolved over the last two decades, there have been some positive developments, but challenges remain. In 2025, Indonesia's global gender gap rank was 97th out of 148 countries. At first glance, this seems to be a significant drop from 2006 when it ranked 68th (World Economic Forum 2006: 9), but at that time, only 115 countries were ranked. Its overall score was 0.654 in 2006 and 0.686 in 2026, marking a reduction of 3.2% in the global gender gap. The representation of women as legislators, senior officials, and managers jumped from 17% in 2006 to 33% in 2025 (World Economic Forum 2006: 75; 2025: 215). An ongoing challenge is the female labour force participation rate. It stood at 51% in 2006, with a relatively low increase of 2,39% by 2025 (ibid.). This compares with a male labour force participation rate of 85% in 2006 and 82,23% in 2025 (ibid.) To address this issue, scholars have proposed various measures, including providing childcare facilities, flexible working arrangements, and campaigns to counter the idea that women must be the primary carers (Cameron 2023: 199-200).
15According to the prevailing social norms in Indonesia, women, rather than men, are responsible for childcare and housework. In the Federation of Indonesian Metal Workers Unions (Federasi Serikat Pekerja Metal Indonesia, FSPMI), scholars have observed that women are impeded from taking part in activities as the consent of their husbands is required, noting that the convergence of “nationalist-statist and religious discourse” fosters harmony-seeking and eschewing conflict scenarios (Hadiz, Bekmen & Öngel 2025: 703-704).
16However, it becomes problematic when researchers generalise men’s levels of productivity and responsibility based on social norms and stereotypes. For instance, a recent study on Indonesia by Indonesian authors (Febianti et al. 2023) indicated that men are perceived as more productive due to their responsibilities. Referring to another source, the authors write:
Gender is related to the differences in functions, roles, and responsibilities of men and women due to societal agreements. Gender is connected to productivity levels. Men have a higher level of productivity because men have more responsibilities than women (Sali 2020). Universally, men’s productivity levels are higher than women’s. This is influenced by factors unique to women, such as less physical strength, a tendency to rely on emotions in work, or biological factors such as needing maternity leave. (Febianti et al. 2023: 201.)
17However, assuming men are universally more productive than women and that women are limited by biological or emotional factors is questionable, as it reproduces those very stereotypes. More importantly, we should ask: What systemic biases and structural barriers affect productivity? In this context, I argue, what I call “fluid work arrangements” should be considered.
18The trend towards remote working has continued even years after the Covid-19 pandemic. However, the arrangements have often become more flexible; office work alternates with remote work, work locations are becoming more “fluid;” the boundaries between the digital and physical workplace and between the office and home are becoming increasingly porous. With the increasing importance of the home for work, it is becoming part of the productive economy. In other words, in reimaging the work and the worker, the home “must then be counted within the economy” (Raman, Arora & König 2023: 19).
19I propose the term “fluid work arrangements” to capture this trend, with greater individual autonomy at one end of a dynamic spectrum and greater institutional control at the other. At one end of the spectrum lies full fluidity, where work is decoupled from specific times and places. Structured hybridity is at the other end of the spectrum, involving a rotational model in which employees switch between working from home and being in the office, providing greater predictability and consistency for both workers and the employer. It can still be considered “fluid” in that, although it follows a rotational model, it allows for adjustments based on the employees’ personal needs and preferences.
20The fluidity is spatial: the line between “office” and “private” space often blurs as people increasingly work remotely. In remote work, the private home often becomes a place where people transition from one task to another, both online and physically. It is increasingly common to do household chores, participate in digital conferences, and counsel children in the home office, right after one another or even partly simultaneously from the privacy of one’s own space. Co-working spaces are also marked by a high degree of fluidity in work arrangements. They blur the boundaries between offices and public/private settings by offering individuals flexible spaces, allowing them to select their work environment based on their current needs. In such spaces, workers can engage in a range of tasks, from convening professional meetings and collaborating to networking.
21The fluidity is also temporal, as the employee can organise their work more effectively in terms of time and coordinate it better with their family’s work schedule in fluid work arrangements. Temporal fluidity in remote work arrangements refers to the flexibility in managing work hours and schedules to fit individual preferences. Remote work may allow professionals to choose the times more in line with their natural rhythms—for example, early in the morning, late at night, or during traditional business hours. Such forms of work are often attractive to women because of their flexibility. On the other hand, they have disadvantages, including constant availability and the risk of burnout. In addition, the degree of temporal fluidity is determined by the modes set by the employer and other factors and needs, such as communicating across different time zones. In the case of self-employment, the risk of working long hours is particularly high in sectors where workers cannot predict their income levels, for example, in creative work; here, “fluidity” can backfire as working hours continue to be extended, often at the expense of family life and health.
22In hybrid working arrangements, employees split their time between working at home and in the office, depending on their employer. These forms of work have a higher degree of structure on the spectrum of fluid work arrangements, both spatially and temporally. For example, a team might have meetings on Mondays and Wednesdays in the office, while allowing employees to work from home on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It remains fluid because employees can adjust their working hours on remote days. Temporally, this structure means that employees have set days for each work environment, creating a predictable routine. Spatially, they are required to alternate between two distinct locations—their home and the office. In this way, they can also benefit from the advantages of office work: direct communication with colleagues, precise work rhythms, and separation of work and private life. Some researchers have found that respondents prefer to work in an office because a 9-5 job is seen as “natural” (Abiddin, Ibrahim & Aziz 2021: 7). However, hybrid work arrangements require the employer’s willingness to accept such an arrangement and may also be challenging from a family perspective, especially if employees also have children, and childcare needs to be adapted accordingly.
23Fluid employment relationships tend to correlate—but not necessarily—with informal work. The informal sector plays a prominent role in Indonesia’s economy. Informal employment stood at 57.95% compared to formal employment at 42.05% of employment in Indonesia in August 2024 (Badan Pusat Statistik 2025a, b). Economic uncertainty during and after the pandemic prompted people to seek flexible, informal employment opportunities. As informal work often does not require highly specialised skills, it is available to a greater number of workers, including those who have been pushed out of formal jobs. In addition, the informal sector enables petty trade, casual labour, and services that have become essential for survival during economic downturns.
24The informal economy is contentious, as informality can lead to the exploitation of workers and resources. Studies on informal economies have indicated that informal workers often face stigma and biased policies and laws (Chen 2020: 73). The state may restrict or hinder their activities and offer them little recognition or protection (Chen 2014). Recent research has pointed to the need to examine the social and political relationships between actors across local, municipal, and national formal and informal economies, paying particular attention to self-selected informality and the corresponding benefits and vulnerability in the informality of disadvantaged groups to better understand mechanisms of integration, exploitation, and exclusion (Banks, Lombard & Mitlin 2020). However, informal relations can also be the grease in the machine, and the informal economy can create employment opportunities. For example, the Covid-19 pandemic provided women engaging in online business with new opportunities, not only materially but also socially, because they created new networks for self-actualization (Setia, Zulaiha & Huriani 2021: 39).
25As in today’s world, the digital sphere offers both constraints and opportunities for workers, many people endeavour to equip themselves for the future, seeking ways to improve their own lives and those of their descendants. Women’s aspirations in Indonesia’s digital economy are rooted in the prospects it offers. Indonesia has one of the highest Internet penetration rates worldwide as of early 2025, behind only China, India, the United States, and Brazil. By 2024, there were about 212.38 million Internet users in a total population of 285 million (Nurhayati-Wolff 2025; Statista Research Department 2025). The Gross Merchandise Value (GMV) of the digital economy reached approximately 75 billion US dollars in 2025, representing 6.12% of the national GDP in 2021 (Kementerian Komunikasi Dan Digital n.D.). Women are likely to view this as a prime opportunity to enter the workforce, given the projected need for around nine million skilled digital workers by 2030 (Antara 2024). This demand could open significant career options for them in the expanding digital landscape.
26An essential aspect of “digital hoped-for futures” is the idea of potential change as a pathway towards it. The idea of potential change results from the feeling that the current life is lacking in what Bourdieu has famously captured as economic capital, which can be turned into money, cultural capital that can be institutionalised in educational qualifications and/or social capital, which is marked by social commitments (Bourdieu 1986: 243).
27The digital sphere provides a pathway to accumulate these forms of capital. Bringing clients and providers together—often through digital platforms—enables financial and social exchange across geographical boundaries. A digital platform can be thought of as a “digitally enabled product that mediates relationships between two or more parties, usually featuring technical elements that allow third parties to build upon it or interact with it” (Gorwa 2024: 16). Platform companies, Big Tech, are usually the masterminds behind such platforms.
28On digital platforms, “beauty” becomes one means through which economic and social capital, particularly, are accumulated. Looking at how successful female influencers present themselves in Indonesia, we see that traditional gender ideas are often reproduced. Female entrepreneurs are very active in the beauty sector, such as the fashion industry. Whitening care products and beauty routines that are in line with Islamic beliefs are important here. Through online platforms and social media, many female influencers and entrepreneurs promote their beauty brands directly to consumers.
29This commodification can feel liberating to influencers, but it also comes at a price. In this context, it is helpful to recall Duffy’s term “aspirational labour,” which refers to a “highly gendered, forward-looking, and entrepreneurial enactment of creativity” (Duffy 2016: 453). She argues that aspirational labour is rooted in “Do What You Love” mantras, which, while idealistic, often obscure reality by legitimizing the idea that it is acceptable, for instance, to sacrifice higher wages for the potential promise of greater creativity. Much of the work done by lesser-known content creators on platforms is poorly paid or not paid at all—in the name of creativity and perceived freedom. As Rösch (2025: 49) points out, YouTube, over a decade after being acquired by Google, has developed a hierarchy largely shaped by the influence of advertisers. Advertisers categorise creators into four broad groups—Nano-, Micro-, Macro-, and Top-Influencers—based mainly on the number of views their videos receive. While the exact criteria can vary between different advertisers, creators in the “lower groups” earn less. As brands pay more for broader reach and strong influence over viewers, income scales depend on audience size and engagement, with direct impacts on how much influencers earn.
30Digital platform providers often promise female workers greater flexibility, enabling them to adjust their work schedules better. However, the providers tend to exert substantial control over the labour force via algorithms and ratings. Thus, digital platforms offer women greater flexibility, enabling them to better harmonise their working hours with their family commitments. Still, these platforms also increase the burden on women, as they often have to work long hours. In this context, Rani et al. (2022: 425) point out that in the name of flexibility, women work double shifts—at work and home—so that many cannot enjoy the expected benefits of this flexibility.
31To tease out these tensions, let’s take the example of ojek, motorbike taxi drivers who have been guaranteeing mobility for customers in Indonesia since the 2010s. Ojek drivers in Indonesia navigate a gig economy where app-based services like Go-Jek have formalised their work, enabling better and collective bargaining, but also increasing disparities with non-participating drivers. As platform workers who work on a contract basis, they are part of the so-called gig or platform economy. Companies such as Go-Jek, part of the Indonesian technology company GoTo since 2021, act like employers by setting fees and regulating drivers’ behaviour, yet claim they are not employers. Formalisation has enabled drivers to engage in collective action that can lead to better working conditions and incomes through collective bargaining. However, compared to traditional taxicab drivers, Go-Jek drivers have benefited from higher salaries, thereby increasing the vulnerability of drivers who have not joined Go-Jek (Ford & Honan 2017: 287).
32Artificial intelligence (AI) is rapidly growing in Indonesia, reshaping industries and education and offering advantages while raising concerns about dependency on technology. Digital platforms, including social media platforms, heavily rely on algorithms to manage and personalise users’ experiences, a set of instructions used to solve a specific task, such as sorting and managing data. The specific area of Artificial Intelligence (AI), systems that use algorithms to perform tasks requiring human-like intelligence, has gained prominence only in recent years. Indonesia is experiencing rapid growth in AI use, with an estimated market size of USD 1.8 billion in 2023, expected to increase sixfold by 2030 (Siahaan 2024). Marketing, gaming, and education are the top industries driving AI search interest (Google, Temasek & Bain & Company 2025). At university, for example, students are increasingly using AI to help them with their writing assignments, citing time-saving, to-the-point answers, and assistance in building creative ideas and hypotheses as advantages of AI. However, as pointed out by Syamsul Sodiq, who carried out a study about the use of AI among students at the University of Surabaya, “dehumanization” can be an issue if people depend too much on AI and increasingly leave thinking, a key capability of humans, to machines (Shofa 2025).
33Algorithms, as part of AI, are used by many companies worldwide to reduce costs, simplify decision-making processes, and analyse large datasets. They can reduce the time spent on activities, thereby saving costs. For example, in precision farming, the need for pesticides and fertilizer can be calculated more precisely with the help of AI, using drones or Unmanned Aerial Vehicles (UAVs). In drones used across different work contexts, for instance, sophisticated algorithms play an essential role in processing sensor data in real time, enabling obstacle detection and swift responses to changing conditions.
34Another realm where algorithms play a crucial role is on online platforms. Content creators use digital platforms like Instagram to promote their products and engage with their followers. Instagram’s algorithms personalise users’ experience by analyzing interactions and showing content from accounts people engage with the most. They also recommend new creators and posts to match people’s interests. To increase their visibility, content creators need to post regularly and engage with followers. It also helps if they use Reels and Stories. So, they need to navigate these algorithms skilfully to increase their success.
35Content creation is work, and it is often unpaid. Content creators, from bookstagrammers to niqabi—women wearing the niqab—dedicate significant time to planning, curating, and promoting their posts while engaging with their followers. In attempting to anticipate what their audience wants, they put in a lot of effort into selecting the right visuals and text to convey their message effectively. As interaction with their followers is key, they need to regularly respond to comments and messages to build a sense of community.
36They can often organise their time freely; however, such work can quickly take many hours. Since it is often unpaid, creators rely on passion, determination, and creativity to sustain their efforts while finding ways to grow their influence or monetise their content. Interesting questions here are: What do content creators want for their future, which they are shaping with digital technology? To what extent do they see their activity as being between work and leisure, and how do they evaluate flexibility in terms of time and space? How do “digitally pious” women use social media?
37In the latter context, Martin Slama discusses different ways of being “digitally pious” using social media in Islamic study groups (majelis taklim) and interactions between ustadz (preachers, Islamic teachers) and followers. As far as gender relations are concerned, he notices the practice of “pouring one’s heart out” (curahan hati or curhat), particularly for female followers of male preachers. The former usually speak about their concerns, while the latter perform the function of “male-preacher-as listener-and-adviser.” He also points out that the female followers of male preachers do not necessarily accept the authority of an ustadz per se, demanding “two-way-communication,” in particular middle- and upper-class followers (Slama 2017: 151-152). Particularly among middle- and upper-class women, there is a desire for a more engaging and reciprocal relationship, indicating that their engagement with spiritual leaders is not just passive but involves dialogue and negotiation of authority. In the context of this special issue, this raises the question of how middle- and upper-class pious women, in particular, manage digital content and thus achieve greater self-determination.
- 5 European Association for Southeast Asian Studies.
38The authors of the articles in this special issue are scholars who participated in the laboratory that I chaired at the EUROSEAS5 conference in 2024. The articles examine how women are trying to shape their digital-hoped-for-futures and what obstacles and barriers they face. The first article by Treviliana E. Putri, Paska Darmawan, Amelinda P. Kusumaningtyas, and Ruth T. Simanjuntak looks at the gig economy, particularly female online ojek drivers. This contribution addresses the often described flexibility and opportunities for a better work-life balance, especially for female ojek drivers. It reveals how the reality of their daily lives is characterised by work and income dependency, so that the promises of flexibility and work-life balance are not fulfilled. As ojek drivers, women face numerous obstacles, for example, male customers frequently cancel rides with them due to gender bias. Deconstructing the myth of flexibility, it demonstrates how the temporally fluid work arrangements laid out above, which are associated with better opportunities to adapt to family schedules, mask disadvantages, for example, the need to work long hours to earn a satisfactory income.
39How do bookstagrammers, content creators and literary influencers, use the Instagram platform to engage with their readers and build their professionalism in Indonesia? Ramayda Akmal zooms in on selected bookstagrammers, all women, and how they move between work and hobby, in the second contribution. Exploring the journeys of selected female bookstagrammers as they navigate an evolving digital landscape, it sheds light on how they blend personal and professional identities. How do these shifting motivations transform their approach to digital creation, moving from personal passion to career-focused goals? The best possible ratings and many followers can bring these literary influencers further capital accumulation in Bourdieu’s sense, notably cultural and social. The increase in cultural capital can lead to greater recognition and credibility in the literary world; the growth in social capital can foster valuable connections and collaborations within their networks. The contribution reveals how digital-hoped-for-futures are about increasing the number of followers through clever communication and content management on platforms like Instagram and securing better opportunities to sell their books through strategic alliances.
40For niqabi women who wear the face veil and limit their participation in spaces outside the home, digital technology has opened new opportunities as digital creators, exploring possibilities such as selling local snacks, as Yuyun Sunesti explores in the third article. How do niqabi women in Surakarta, Indonesia, who run online businesses from their homes, negotiate and enact new forms of agency through digital media? The article argues that social media platforms have become attractive places for niqabis because they do not have to act directly in public themselves and can limit ikhtilat (mingling of men and women, which is discouraged among Salafis). Using such platforms becomes attractive for niqabis to fulfil their duties as wives and homemakers on the one hand and to contribute economically on the other, from the private sphere.
41All three articles examine how fluid work arrangements, along with the concepts of spatial and temporal flexibility and the mantra “do what you love,” shape individuals’ working lives. Together, they help shed light on the questions this special issue addresses. How are women shaping their futures in the Indonesian digital economy? How could digital-hoped-for futures look like for ojek drivers, bookstagrammers and niqabi women amid adversities and aspirations?