Have you ever scrolled past one of those polished TikTok videos where a twenty-something in a luxury car tells you that you’re “leaving money on the table” if you don’t jump into the latest high-yield investment?
I have. And for a second – just a second – I felt that little tug of FOMO. Then I remembered every story I’ve ever heard about people who actually followed that advice and woke up broke.
Turns out I’m not the only one learning that lesson the hard way. In Indonesia, an entire generation of new investors just got a very expensive wake-up call, and the government has finally said “enough.”
The Wake-Up Call Indonesia Didn’t Want
Picture this: it’s 2021, the pandemic is raging, everyone is stuck at home, and suddenly everyone under 35 decides they’re going to get rich through their phone. Stock accounts in the country exploded from 2.5 million in 2019 to more than 19 million by late 2024. Crypto, meme stocks, and especially peer-to-peer lending apps promising 15-20% annual returns became the new religion.
And who were the high priests of this religion? Not gray-haired fund managers in suits. No. It was cool, relatable “finfluencers” with perfect lighting and even more perfect promises.
Fast-forward to 2025 and the hangover is brutal. Thousands of ordinary Indonesians – teachers, students, small-business owners – have lost life-changing money in platforms that have either collapsed or simply stopped paying out. The financial regulator (known as OJK) has had enough. This month they rolled out rules that basically put fintech companies on the hook for whatever their paid influencers say.
What the New Rules Actually Say
If you’re a brokerage or lending platform in Indonesia and you pay someone to talk about your product, congratulations – you’re now legally responsible for everything that comes out of their mouth.
- Influencers giving actual investment advice must hold an official license.
- Anyone promoting a product has to register as an official marketing partner.
- Every single paid post must carry a clear disclosure.
- Risks have to be explained just as loudly as potential rewards.
- Platforms can be fined or shut down if their influencers break the rules.
It’s the kind of common-sense regulation most Western countries put in place years ago. But in one of the world’s fastest-growing retail investment markets, it feels revolutionary.
The Human Cost Behind the Headlines
Let me tell you about Anita (not her real name, but her story is painfully real). She’s 29, lives in Surabaya, and three years ago she handed over roughly $28,000 – basically every rupiah she had saved – to a P2P platform that was being hyped nonstop on Instagram and TikTok.
The pitch was simple: “Lend to small businesses, sit back, collect 18% a year.” The influencer who sold her on it had giveaway contests, drove a leased BMW, and posted daily stories about “helping the little guy while making bank.”
“I thought if something went wrong the platform would protect us. Turns out the only thing they protected was their own fees.”
– Anita Carolina, 29, retail investor
Today she’s one of at least 19 people suing that same platform for billions of rupiah. Many others never even bothered with lawyers – they just accepted the loss and quietly deleted the app.
And Anita isn’t some outlier. Whole WhatsApp groups are filled with people swapping screenshots of frozen accounts and promises from customer service that “funds will be released soon.” Some platforms have simply vanished overnight.
Why P2P Lending Became the Perfect Storm
On paper, peer-to-peer lending sounds almost noble: connect everyday savers with small businesses that banks ignore. In practice, many Indonesian platforms turned into barely regulated shadow banks offering insane interest rates to attract deposits, then handed that money to anyone with a pulse.
When the economy slowed, borrowers defaulted in waves. Platforms that had bragged about “AI risk scoring” suddenly discovered their algorithms weren’t magic. And the money was gone.
Making matters worse, some platforms allegedly ran Ponzi-like operations – using new investor money to pay returns to old investors until the whole thing collapsed. Regulators have already revoked licenses and handed several cases to the police.
The Psychology That Made It So Easy to Fall For
Let’s be honest for a second: most of us want to believe there’s a shortcut. When you’re 25 and watching your parents struggle with 3% bank savings rates, an 18% return feels like justice.
Add in the social proof of seeing hundreds of comments saying “I just got my payout!” (many of which were bought or faked) and it becomes almost impossible to say no.
Then there’s the relatability factor. A licensed financial planner in a suit feels distant. But when the person giving advice looks like your cousin, speaks Bahasa Indonesia, films in a normal apartment, and says “guys, I’m doing this with my own money,” trust comes cheap.
“In Indonesia it’s the productive P2P sector that is failing because of economic pressure and really bad credit screening.”
– Felicia Putri Tjiasaka, 1.4M-follower TikTok creator who also lost money
Some Influencers Are Owning Up (Others Aren’t)
To be fair, a few creators have come clean. Popular TikToker with over a million followers publicly admitted she had money stuck in the same platforms she once promoted and told her audience to cash out while they还能.
Others have simply memory-holed their old videos and moved on to the next hot token or “guaranteed” trading signal. The ones still aggressively shilling high-risk products? They’re either don’t believe the new rules will be enforced, or they’re planning to cash out before the hammer drops.
Is Regulation the Answer, or Just Theater?
Here’s where it gets tricky. On one hand, making companies legally responsible for their promoters is a big step. It worked in places like the UK and Australia – paid stock tips on Instagram have all but disappeared overnight once brokers realized they could lose their license over a 22-year-old’s meme.
On the other hand, enforcement in Indonesia has historically been… spotty. From 2017 to 2024 the OJK blocked over 13,000 illegal investment schemes, yet new ones pop up every week with a different name and logo.
Plus, the really dangerous actors will just go fully underground – Telegram channels, private Discord servers, WhatsApp blasts. Those are almost impossible to police.
What Smart Investors Are Doing Now
The survivors I’ve spoken to (and there are still plenty who came out ahead) all say versions of the same thing:
- They stopped trusting anyone who sells courses or signals.
- They read the actual financial reports (or at least the regulator warnings).
- They keep the bulk of their money in boring, regulated products.
- They treat anything promising 20% returns the same way they treat emails from Nigerian princes.
One guy told me he now has a personal rule: if someone is making more money from YouTube ads than from the strategy they’re teaching, he runs.
The Bigger Picture for Emerging Markets
Indonesia isn’t alone. We’ve seen almost identical stories play out in Nigeria with “investment clubs,” in India with rogue crypto Telegram groups, in Brazil with forex signal sellers. Every time a country gets its first big wave of retail investors, the vultures arrive before the guardrails.
The difference is timing. Places that regulate early (like Singapore) keep the damage contained. Places that wait until the bodies are already piling up (hello) end up with scars that last a generation.
In my opinion, the most damaging part isn’t even the money lost. It’s the trust destroyed. When your first experience with investing is getting rinsed by a guy who promised Lambos, good luck convincing that person to ever touch the stock market again.
Final Thought: Maybe Boring Is the New Sexy
Anita, the woman who lost $28,000, still invests. But now it’s only in mutual funds and a tiny bit of Bitcoin she bought on a proper exchange. She does her own research, ignores influencers completely, and says she sleeps better than she has in years.
Sometimes the most radical financial move isn’t finding the next 100x token. It’s deciding you no longer need the drama.
Stay safe out there.
