Civic Boundaries

Democracies depend on institutions that command trust and on citizens who are taught to question them with care. The Supreme Court’s decision to withdraw an NCERT Class 8 social-sciences textbook that referred to “corruption in the judiciary” sits uneasily at the intersection of these two imperatives. The episode raises legitimate concerns about how constitutional bodies are represented to young students, while exposing gaps in India’s curriculum-making process and the unresolved tension between institutional authority and pedagogical openness.

The controversy centres on the textbook titled ‘Exploring Society: India and Beyond, Vol II’ whose chapter on the judiciary mentioned complaints against judges, alleged lack of transparency and excerpts from a former chief justice’s speech. A three-judge bench ordered an immediate halt to the book’s circulation, physical and digital, and directed that existing copies be seized. The court described the material as prima facie contemptuous, warning that portraying the judiciary as corrupt could have corrosive effects well beyond the classroom.

The language from the bench reflected a broader institutional anxiety. Courts, unlike elected branches, rest their legitimacy largely on public confidence. In that sense, the judges’ concern was not that introducing contested allegations to middle-school students without sufficient context risked normalising distrust before civic understanding has fully formed.

The government responded by apologising and assuring the court that corrective action had been taken. The NCERT has halted distribution, while describing the inclusion as ‘unintentional’ and promising to rewrite the chapter for the 2026–27 academic year.

Yet the episode cannot be reduced to a simple contest between censorship and criticism. On one hand, school textbooks occupy a distinct category. They are authoritative by design, presented to students as settled knowledge rather than provisional argument. Introducing allegations about constitutional institutions, particularly without comparative perspective, empirical grounding or historical framing, risks blurring the line between education and opinion. Few would argue that a Class 8 civics book is the appropriate forum to adjudicate debates about judicial accountability.

On the other hand, the judiciary itself has acknowledged on the need for greater transparency and internal reform and senior judges have spoken publicly about institutional strain. To suggest that such issues are wholly beyond mention risks turning civics education into reverence rather than understanding. A democratic education must eventually prepare students to grapple with institutional fallibility, not merely institutional ideals.

This tension places the spotlight squarely on the NCERT, whose mandate is not simply to simplify, but to decide what level of complexity is appropriate at each stage of learning. That a chapter touching on sensitive constitutional debates passed through multiple layers of review suggests either editorial inconsistency or the absence of clear guidelines on how power should be discussed. Removing the chapter does not resolve the underlying question of curricular philosophy.

Ultimately, the episode underscores a shared responsibility. Courts must protect their authority without appearing hostile to inquiry. Curriculum bodies must foster critical thinking without importing disputes that students are ill-equipped to assess.