In case you only have 15 seconds to read this wink, here’s the summary: to remain grounded amidst a sea of flashy buzzwords is a luxury.

I got inspired to write this on my way back from buying my favorite seblak (a Sundanese savory and spicy dish with wet crackers as the main ingredient). Just as I was about to return, the rain poured down suddenly, drenching everything in sight. I saw people working under the rain, no umbrella, no shelter—just carrying on. Under this kind of circumstance, it is a luxury to be able to rush home and worry about nothing. Wait. I said luxury? Why did that word, instead of privilege, pop into my mind?

Ever since I don’t exactly remember when, I rarely call something that not everybody has access to/opportunity a privilege anymore. I used to call everything which wasn't near to a problem for me but still was considered one for some people as a privilege. For example, in this pandemic situation, the option to work from home when some people have to go out to earn money was called a privilege. Now I name it a whole luxury.

My standard of what constitutes a luxury has dropped lower and lower, and to me, that’s self-betterment. I’ve realized that even the so-called “basic necessities” of my life—shelter, clean clothes, three meals a day, healthcare, internet access—are not universal. A college degree, a stable job—the very things I once saw as normal—are luxuries to many. The realization humbles me every time.

(P.S I recently came across an article about global education statistics *tried to post the link but I can’t find it again. It said that globally, the percentage of individuals with a college degree is less than 8%. That number hit me. The saying "privilege is invisible to those who have it" applied to me too, and I felt sorry for that.)

Over time, my definition of luxury has expanded and shifted. As a teenager, luxury meant extravagance. In college, I considered idealism a luxury. Later, I realized that discovering what you genuinely want to do in life—and actually being able to live according to it—was also a luxury. A few years ago, I saw how being left with no choices could be suffocating, so having choices became a luxury in my book.

Now, working in IT, I have a new definition of luxury: the ability to remain grounded amid a sea of flashy buzzwords.

We live in a time when throwing around sophisticated tech jargon makes people seem knowledgeable. The moment a buzzword catches on—blockchain, AI, quantum computing—suddenly, not talking about it makes you feel outdated.

And what happens next? Implementation rushes in. I’ve seen so many cases where companies hastily adopt new technologies just because they sound cutting-edge, yet their foundations aren’t even stable. Investments are made without a solid cost-benefit analysis. Decisions are driven by FOMO rather than actual needs. The fundamental building blocks are overlooked because everyone is too busy chasing the next big thing.

(You’ve seen that meme of a boy trying to skip steps on a staircase, right? The one that perfectly captures how humans often ignore the basics just to reach the “shiny” part? Yeah. High five if you laughed at that.)

I’m not saying we shouldn’t keep up with tech trends. Staying informed is crucial. We need to anticipate risks, leverage advancements, and adapt. But being easily dazzled—that’s dangerous. Imagine pouring millions into trendy technology without assessing the risks or ensuring it aligns with actual business needs. It’s like jumping onto a high-speed train without checking if it’s even heading in the right direction.

And that’s why I say: the ability to stay grounded amidst flashy buzzwords is a luxury. The ability to prioritize fundamentals, resist the pressure to blindly follow trends, and stay composed in the face of hype—that is a rare luxury. In the IT world, maybe it’s one of the highest luxuries that exist.

Your "hey I am back writing about IT again even though the IT part is microscopic" friend,

iim 

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*In the tech world, it's not that having the most sophisticated tool that I called a luxurious life, it's knowing what's really needed.

*I remember my high school counselor ever advised the students: ojo nggumunan (don't be too easily impressed). Now I understand its hidden meaning even more.

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