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By:

Abhijit Joshi

31 August 2024 at 3:39:24 pm

Language on the Meter

The Marathi language rule for auto and taxi drivers can promote integration, but only if it does not become another instrument of identity politics. The political scenario in Maharashtra has changed after the Cockroach Janata Party’s (CJP) agitation, and every political party is now trying to woo ‘Gen Z’ which could emerge as a significant vote bank by 2029. But Maharashtra’s political conversation has moved to a much more emotionally charged issue: the Marathi language requirement for...

Language on the Meter

The Marathi language rule for auto and taxi drivers can promote integration, but only if it does not become another instrument of identity politics. The political scenario in Maharashtra has changed after the Cockroach Janata Party’s (CJP) agitation, and every political party is now trying to woo ‘Gen Z’ which could emerge as a significant vote bank by 2029. But Maharashtra’s political conversation has moved to a much more emotionally charged issue: the Marathi language requirement for auto-rickshaw and taxi drivers. What began as a transport regulation has quickly become a political contest involving Marathi identity, migrant livelihoods and the BJP’s relationship with the sizeable North Indian electorate in Mumbai and the Mumbai Metropolitan Region. Language Barrier Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis has had to step in to clarify that Hindi-speaking drivers are not expected to become experts in Marathi, but only need enough of the language to conduct their daily work. Samajwadi Party chief Akhilesh Yadav, meanwhile, has attacked the policy, questioning whether language can become a barrier to earning a livelihood in another state. The Maharashtra government has made “working knowledge” of Marathi mandatory for auto-rickshaw, taxi and app-based cab drivers. The rule extends not only to traditional autos and taxis but also to drivers working with aggregators such as Ola, Uber and Rapido. Compliance is linked to their ability to continue operating. RTO teams have been conducting practical tests rather than formal examinations. Drivers are asked basic questions and everyday phrases relating to destinations, fares, routes, meters, travel time and payments. A 16-question format has been reported, designed around situations a driver is likely to encounter with passengers. The scale of enforcement explains why the issue has suddenly become explosive. In the first five days of inspections, authorities checked 35,190 commercial passenger vehicles across Maharashtra, including 14,399 in the MMR, and issued 4,729 notices statewide, of which 2,239 were in the MMR. On August 24 alone, 1,392 drivers were checked in the MMR and 139 were found lacking the required proficiency. Drivers who fail the test are not immediately supposed to lose their livelihoods. They receive a notice and are given time to acquire the required working knowledge. Under the rules, however, continued non-compliance can eventually lead to suspension and, for repeated violations, cancellation of the licence or badge. That is where the policy becomes more complicated. For a driver who works 10–12 hours a day, has limited formal education or has lived in Mumbai for years without needing to speak Marathi fluently, learning a new language under the threat of losing his livelihood is understandably intimidating. Legal Problem There is also a legal question. The Bombay High Court struck down a similar requirement for autorickshaw permits in 2017, raising questions about the statutory basis and the manner in which the present rule is being enforced. The answer lies somewhere between “Marathi must be compulsory” and “nobody should be forced to learn Marathi”. Mumbai cannot function without communication. A passenger should be able to tell a driver where he wants to go, negotiate or understand the fare, ask for directions and communicate basic safety or emergency information. For that purpose, basic Marathi proficiency is a perfectly reasonable requirement for a public-facing transport worker. But basic conversational Marathi is very different from linguistic proficiency. That distinction should become the foundation of the government’s policy. Maharashtra has already taken one important corrective step by announcing 161 Marathi language training centres across the state and a dedicated RTO helpline to address complaints of harassment, illegal fines and procedural irregularities. In the MMR, 16 of the 48 earlier training centres are also being reopened. This should go further. Every driver receiving a notice should automatically be given access to a free, government-recognised Marathi course. The course should be short, practical and audio-visual, teaching perhaps 50–100 sentences relevant to driving rather than grammar, literature or writing. Drivers should be allowed multiple attempts, and the test should be standardised across all RTOs. The issue is not whether Marathi deserves protection. It does. Marathi is Maharashtra’s official and cultural language, and there is nothing unreasonable about expecting people who live and work here to acquire a basic knowledge of it. But Mumbai has historically succeeded because it has absorbed people from across India. The city does not need to choose between Marathi and Hindi. It can accommodate both. Political Minefield The BJP, meanwhile, faces a difficult balancing act. Its Maharashtra leadership cannot ignore Marathi sentiment, but it also cannot afford to alienate migrant communities that have traditionally formed an important part of its urban support base. The emergence of the BJP’s own labour cell criticising alleged harassment of non-Marathi drivers demonstrates just how delicate the issue has become. The labour cell has even threatened an MMR-wide strike if alleged harassment continues. For the Shiv Sena led by Eknath Shinde, the controversy offers an opportunity to reclaim the Marathi identity space traditionally associated with the Sena and the MNS. For the Uddhav Thackeray-led Sena (UBT), the challenge is different: it has criticised policies affecting drivers’ livelihoods while simultaneously trying to retain its Marathi identity credentials. The MNS, unsurprisingly, has adopted the most aggressive position, warning non-Marathi drivers to learn Marathi or leave Maharashtra. The Marathi passenger benefits if communication becomes easier. The non-Marathi driver benefits because he gains a practical skill and greater integration into Mumbai society. The government benefits because implementation becomes less confrontational. And Mumbai benefits because its public transport system becomes more inclusive rather than more polarised. The biggest losers would be the drivers themselves and ordinary commuters. A prolonged strike or large-scale suspension of licences could affect daily mobility across the MMR, particularly for passengers who depend on autos and taxis for last-mile connectivity. The Maharashtra government therefore has an opportunity to turn a politically sensitive controversy into a model of linguistic integration. The correct message should not be: “Speak Marathi or leave Mumbai.” It should be simpler: “You live and work in Maharashtra — learn enough Marathi to connect with the people you serve.” (The writer is a political observer. Views personal.)

Let Scientists Do Science: Unshackling India’s Research Potential

India cannot become a scientific power by funding laboratories while burdening scientists with the very bureaucracy that prevents them from using them effectively.

Indian science presents a curious paradox. We celebrate our scientists for achieving remarkably good results with limited resources. But how much more could they achieve if they did not also have to spend so much time and energy dealing with the system?


This question came to my mind while reading NITI Aayog’s recently released report, Ease of Doing Research & Development in India: Removing Obstacles, Promoting Enablers. It is an unusually candid document. It speaks about delayed funding, complicated procedures, rigid financial rules, procurement difficulties, centralized decision-making and excessive compliance. More importantly, it acknowledges something researchers have long experienced: a “trust deficit” between researchers and funding agencies.


NITI Aayog and the present Government deserve credit for putting these uncomfortable issues on the table. Governments naturally find it easier to document achievements than deficiencies. But reform begins with acknowledging a problem. Problems hidden in files cannot be solved. Problems identified and understood can be.


The report draws on a nationwide survey, eight regional consultations and discussions involving research institutions, science academies, funding agencies, government departments, universities and industry. It examines seven broad areas: funding, human resources, institutional systems, technology translation, access to knowledge, state institutions, and monitoring and science administration. Taken together, they point to a larger issue. India’s challenge is not only how much we spend on research, but also how we organize and govern it.


India’s expenditure on R&D is around 0.64 per cent of GDP, low compared with major scientific economies. The report recommends raising it to at least 2 per cent within four to five years, with greater participation from the private sector. Industry and philanthropy must become larger partners, with CSR also contributing more to research.


Obstacles to Research

But money alone will not solve the problem. Research funding has three simple tests. Is enough money available? Does it reach the researcher on time? And once it arrives, can it be used without unnecessary difficulty?


The report identifies problems at every stage. Applications can be cumbersome, decisions slow and funds delayed. Once a project begins, rigid budget heads, procurement rules and repeated approvals can make even routine work difficult. It recommends year-round funding calls, a maximum six-month processing period, greater budget flexibility, easier procurement and more realistic institutional overheads.


Anyone who has done experimental research knows why flexibility matters. Science does not always follow financial years or budget heads. Experiments fail while unexpected results can take research in a new direction.


There is a basic mismatch here. Administration understandably tries to reduce uncertainty and risk. Research exists precisely because the outcome is uncertain. If we try to eliminate every administrative risk, we may also discourage scientific risk-taking.


Public money must, of course, be accounted for. But research cannot be treated only as expenditure to be controlled. It must also be seen as an investment to be enabled.


There is another resource that rarely appears in research budgets: the scientist’s time. Money can sometimes be replaced. Lost time cannot. Every hour spent chasing signatures, following up on purchases or seeking approvals is an hour not spent thinking, experimenting, mentoring or analysing results.


This is why the report’s call for professionally managed R&D offices, trained research administrators, clearer procedures and greater delegation is important. An R&D office should help researchers do research, not become one more office from which they need permission. Responsibility without reasonable authority rarely produces excellence. Freedom must, of course, go together with transparency and accountability.


India has enormous young talent, yet researcher density remains low. Postdoctoral opportunities are inadequate, fellowships can be delayed, recruitment remains rigid and positions remain vacant. The report suggests measures such as Vigyan Nidhi, greater mobility and more flexible research careers. But young people will not choose research simply because the country needs researchers. Research must offer intellectual excitement, reasonable security, respect and the possibility of a meaningful career.


Beyond Islands of Excellence

For me, one of the report’s most important sections concerns state universities. India’s research future cannot be built around a few IITs, IISERs, IISc and national laboratories. Much of our higher education takes place in state universities and colleges, yet many struggle with outdated laboratories, equipment that cannot be maintained, faculty vacancies, temporary appointments, heavy teaching duties and weak PhD programmes.


A Viksit Bharat cannot rest on a few islands of scientific excellence surrounded by a vast sea of under-resourced universities. India cannot become a major research power unless research capability spreads across the university system where much of our young talent is located.


The report rightly recognises that this gap cannot be bridged by funding alone. State Science and Technology Councils need strengthening, faculty vacancies need filling, and central and state institutions need to work much more closely. ANRF’s PAIR programme can help in this direction. Even usable scientific equipment in central institutions could find a productive second life in state universities. The report also draws attention to institutions in remote regions and to grassroots innovators who often remain outside the formal research system.


Access to knowledge is another inequality. A capable researcher should not be unable to read an important paper, use essential software or search a database because the institution cannot afford it. ‘One Nation One Subscription’ is an important step.


India produces many papers and patents, but too many useful ideas stop inside laboratories. Weak technology-transfer systems, unclear IP rules, inadequate testing facilities and poor links between academia and industry are some of the reasons.


For years we have asked researchers, “How many papers did you publish?” Perhaps we should increasingly ask, “What new knowledge, capability or change did the research create?” This does not mean every investigation must produce a product. Fundamental research is indispensable. But when research is intended to solve a practical problem, publication need not always be the end of the journey.


The report also asks us to look at how science itself is administered. Monitoring can become more concerned with procedures than outcomes. Data remain fragmented, and we do not always learn enough from completed programs. The proposed National Institute for Science Policy and Governance could strengthen science policy, evaluation and research administration.


The report’s Ease of Doing R&D assessment framework is useful, but we should guard against irony. An exercise intended to reduce the administrative burden on researchers must not itself become another exercise in forms, scores and rankings. We should measure improvement not by how elaborate the assessment becomes, but by what researchers actually experience.


Are grant decisions faster and fellowships reaching researchers on time? Are scientists spending less time seeking approvals? Is equipment easier to purchase and maintain? Are researchers in state universities getting a fairer chance? Are promising technologies moving beyond laboratories? These questions should tell us whether Ease of Doing R&D is actually working.


Time-Bound Effort

India now needs a time-bound national effort on Ease of Doing R&D, with clear responsibility, deadlines and measurable outcomes. Some reforms require more money. Many do not.


And 2047 is not as distant as it sounds. Institutional cultures take years to change. Laboratories take years to build. Researchers take decades to nurture. Reform must begin now.


NITI Aayog deserves credit for identifying these problems with unusual candour. The present Government also deserves credit for placing such an honest diagnosis in the public domain. Recognising a problem does not solve it, but it makes a solution possible. The next step is harder, but far more important. We must convert diagnosis into reform.


Viksit Bharat@2047 will need more money for science. But it will also need a culture that trusts scientists, values their time, spreads research opportunities beyond a small group of privileged institutions, and gives researchers room to explore. Perhaps the message of this important report can ultimately be reduced to something very simple: let scientists do science.



(The writer is an ANRF Prime Minister Professor at COEP Technological University, Pune, and former Director of the Agharkar Research Institute, Pune. Views personal.)

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