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By:

Anil D. Salve

21 March 2026 at 8:11:09 pm

A Drought of Wisdom in an Ocean of Information

We live in an age where information is everywhere. With a single click, we can access news from across the world, thousands of opinions, countless videos and endless claims. Knowledge has never been so accessible. Yet, in this overwhelming flow of information, something increasingly scarce is discernment-the ability to distinguish what deserves our belief from what deserves our doubt. Information and knowledge are not the same. Reading, watching or hearing something does not automatically...

A Drought of Wisdom in an Ocean of Information

We live in an age where information is everywhere. With a single click, we can access news from across the world, thousands of opinions, countless videos and endless claims. Knowledge has never been so accessible. Yet, in this overwhelming flow of information, something increasingly scarce is discernment-the ability to distinguish what deserves our belief from what deserves our doubt. Information and knowledge are not the same. Reading, watching or hearing something does not automatically make it true. We need the ability to verify information, understand its context, recognise its purpose and only then form an opinion. In the digital age, this ability has become one of the most important forms of wisdom. Social media has transformed the way information travels. WhatsApp, Instagram, Facebook and other platforms have made communication faster, wider and more accessible. But the same speed that connects society can also overwhelm it. Information often reaches us before facts do. A headline is read before the full story. A short video is watched without knowing what happened before or after it. A photograph is circulated without its original context. A message arrives with the familiar words, “Forwarded as received,” and within minutes it may reach thousands of people. By the time the truth catches up, the rumour may already have done its work. The problem becomes even more serious when misinformation is deliberately created and circulated. Rumours may be planted not merely to mislead individuals but to divert public attention from an important issue, create suspicion, damage someone's reputation or push society towards a particular narrative. A distraction does not always need to be completely false. Sometimes a small piece of truth is mixed with exaggeration, selective facts or emotional language. The result can be more powerful than an outright lie because it appears believable. This is how narratives are manufactured. Social media platforms can become powerful tools in this process. A repeated claim begins to look familiar, and familiarity is often mistaken for truth. A provocative post attracts attention. Thousands of reactions create the impression that “everyone” believes it. One emotional video triggers another, comments intensify the mood, and before facts have an opportunity to speak, public sentiment may have already shifted. This is where mob psychology enters the picture. A society can move from calm to anger, suspicion to trust, or optimism to fear with surprising speed. People who would ordinarily think carefully may react differently when they see thousands of others expressing outrage, fear or hostility. The individual begins to follow the crowd, and the crowd begins to reinforce the individual. The danger is not limited to negative emotions. The same mechanism can also be used positively-to mobilise people for social causes, humanitarian assistance, disaster relief, public awareness and community action. Technology itself is neither wise nor foolish. Its impact depends on how information is created, amplified and consumed. The greatest danger, therefore, is not that we have too much information. It is that we may lose the habit of thinking while consuming it. We are increasingly becoming consumers of information rather than creators of thought. Everyone has access to information today, but access does not necessarily mean understanding. The boundaries between a rumour and a report, an opinion and a fact, popularity and truth are becoming increasingly blurred. A post does not become true because thousands of people have liked it. A video does not become evidence merely because it has gone viral. An opinion does not become a fact because it is expressed confidently. An idea does not become correct simply because it confirms what we already believe. This last point deserves particular attention. We often accept information not because it is accurate, but because it is comfortable. We are naturally attracted to information that confirms our existing beliefs and suspicious of information that challenges them. In the digital world, this tendency can be amplified by algorithms that repeatedly expose us to content similar to what we have already watched, liked or shared. Gradually, we may find ourselves living inside an information bubble where we hear many voices-but mostly voices that agree with us. That is not diversity of information. It is an illusion of certainty. Discernment does not mean doubting everything. It means thinking before believing. It means asking simple but powerful questions: Who is saying this? What is the evidence? What is the context? What may be missing? Who benefits if I believe it? And have I heard the other side? These questions may take only a few seconds, but they can prevent hours, days or even years of misunderstanding. This responsibility is particularly important for the younger generation. Children today are growing up in an environment of unprecedented information exposure. They can encounter more information in a few hours than earlier generations might have encountered in weeks. Therefore, education cannot merely teach students how to collect, remember and reproduce information. It must teach them how to question, verify, analyse and interpret it. A student who can write the correct answer in an examination may be academically successful. But a student who knows how to ask the right question is better prepared for life. The classroom of the future must therefore produce not merely informed students, but thinking citizens. They must learn that forwarding a message is also a form of responsibility. Sharing a post is not an innocent act when it can affect someone's reputation, create public fear or influence social behaviour. The challenge becomes even greater in the age of Artificial Intelligence. AI can generate information, images, audio and video with extraordinary speed and sophistication. The distinction between what is real and what merely appears real may become increasingly difficult. In such a world, human judgment becomes more valuable, not less. Technology can produce an answer in seconds. It cannot automatically tell us whether that answer deserves our trust. Some answers require experience. Some require context. Many require the ability to think independently. We have more information, more technology and more connectivity than any previous generation. Yet our real challenge is to preserve something technology cannot manufacture for us: the capacity to think for ourselves. The ocean of information will only become larger. The question will no longer be, “How much information do we have?” The more important questions will be: What should we accept? What should we question? What should we verify? And what should we reject? No technology can completely answer these questions for us. No number of likes can substitute for evidence. No viral trend can replace judgment. No majority can turn misinformation into truth. That responsibility belongs to human beings. Information can tell us what happened. Discernment helps us understand what it means, why it happened, what may be missing from the story and how we should respond. Perhaps, therefore, the greatest educational challenge of our time is not to teach people how to find more information. They already know how to do that. The greater challenge is to teach them how to pause-to pause before believing, to pause before reacting, to pause before forwarding and to pause before joining the crowd. Because sometimes the most intelligent response to information is not an immediate reaction, but a moment of reflection. The ocean is already around us. It is growing deeper every day. What we need now is not more information to swim through it-but the wisdom to know which direction to take. (The writer is the Principal of Podar International School, Ausa, Latur. Views personal.)

The New Great Game of Uranium

Writer: Atul Bajpai
Atul Bajpai
May 13
3 min read

India’s nuclear expansion is not merely an engineering challenge but a test of diplomacy, trade strategy and geopolitical resilience.

India’s nuclear energy ambitions sit at the intersection of geology, geopolitics, and economics. As the country seeks to expand low-carbon baseload power, the question is not whether nuclear should grow—but whether India can secure the uranium required to sustain that growth without strategic vulnerability. The answer lies in a calibrated mix of imports, limited domestic production, and a sharper diplomatic playbook.


India’s indigenous uranium reserves are modest and relatively low-grade. Deposits in Jharkhand, Andhra Pradesh, and parts of Rajasthan have supported the country’s pressurised heavy water reactor (PHWR) fleet, but barely. For years, domestic shortages constrained reactor load factors, at times pushing them below optimal capacity. While new discoveries and incremental mining improvements have eased the pressure, the reality remains: indigenous uranium is sufficient largely for strategic and baseline needs, not for an aggressive civilian expansion.


This constraint makes engagement with the global uranium market unavoidable. Since the civil nuclear agreements of the late 2000s, India has gained access to international suppliers such as Kazakhstan, Canada, Australia, and Namibia. These partnerships have stabilised fuel supply and allowed reactors to operate closer to design capacity. The global uranium market itself is relatively liquid, with long-term contracts dominating over volatile spot purchases—an arrangement that suits a country like India, which values predictability over opportunism.


On price parity, imported uranium has often proven competitive, even after factoring in transport and conversion costs. Domestic mining, especially from low-grade ore, can be costlier when environmental safeguards, land acquisition, and processing complexities are fully accounted for. In effect, the “cheap domestic resource” argument does not hold as strongly for uranium as it might for coal. Instead, imports—secured through diversified, long-term contracts—can offer better cost stability.


Strategic Material

However, reliance on imports introduces its own risks. Uranium is not just a commodity; it is a strategic material embedded in geopolitical alignments. Supplier countries may attach conditions, formal or informal, linked to non-proliferation norms, export controls, or broader diplomatic considerations. While India’s track record as a responsible nuclear state has eased many barriers, the possibility of supply disruptions—whether due to sanctions, political shifts, or market tightening—cannot be dismissed.


Long-term supply assurances, therefore, are only as strong as the relationships underpinning them. Contracts can span decades, but geopolitics can turn in months. This is why India’s uranium strategy must go beyond transactional procurement. It must evolve into what can be termed “uranium diplomacy”—a sustained effort to embed nuclear fuel supply within a broader matrix of economic, strategic, and technological partnerships.


Such diplomacy operates on multiple levels. First, diversification is essential. No single supplier should account for a dominant share of India’s uranium imports. A balanced portfolio reduces exposure to country-specific risks and enhances bargaining power. Second, upstream participation matters. Indian public sector entities have already explored stakes in overseas uranium mines; expanding such investments can provide partial insulation from market fluctuations and supply shocks.


Third, fuel cycle collaboration offers another layer of resilience. Agreements that include not just uranium supply but also conversion, enrichment services, and fuel fabrication can deepen interdependence and make disruptions less likely. In parallel, maintaining a strategic uranium reserve—akin to strategic petroleum reserves—would provide a buffer against short-term disruptions.


None of this diminishes the importance of strengthening domestic production. Indigenous uranium, even if limited, carries strategic value. It ensures that India retains a minimum assured supply independent of external pressures. Investments in exploration, improved mining technologies, and faster regulatory clearances can incrementally raise output. Equally important is public engagement to address local concerns around mining, which have often slowed project execution.


Long-term Vision

Yet, it would be unrealistic to expect domestic uranium to power India’s nuclear future at scale. The country’s long-term vision, including advanced heavy water reactors and a potential shift towards thorium utilisation, implicitly recognises this limitation. Thorium, in which India is relatively rich, remains a promising but technologically demanding pathway that will take time to mature commercially.


In the interim, the choice is not between imports and indigenous supply, but about finding the right equilibrium. Imports provide volume and flexibility; domestic production offers strategic assurance. The balance between the two must be continuously adjusted in response to market conditions and geopolitical signals.


Ultimately, uranium policy cannot be siloed within the energy sector. It is an extension of foreign policy, trade strategy, and national security planning. India’s success in expanding nuclear power will depend as much on its diplomats and negotiators as on its engineers and scientists.


If there is a single lesson from the past two decades, it is this: access to uranium is less about scarcity and more about relationships. Countries that cultivate trust, diversify partnerships, and invest in long-term engagement are better positioned to secure their energy future. For India, uranium diplomacy is not an option—it is a necessity.


(The writer is a former scientific officer with the Department of Atomic Energy. Views personal.)

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