CET 2025 Slot 2 · Verbal – Page 8

When the COVID-19 pandemic struck, a social safety net was needed most. Yet the system fighting inequality in India faltered. Though the policies were perfectly geared on paper—targeted cash transfers, employment guarantee programs and subsidised meals for workers and families—they did not reach the unreached.

The workers had been left adrift for so long. Funded by the tax we all pay, and wrongly viewed often as favour or a misdirected inclusion, schemes like PDS (Public Distribution System), Jan Dhan, and MGNREGA have served as the most consistent support. Their expanding footprint and adoption have been praised in several quarters. That India’s safety net encourages and not hinders the incentive to work has been validated through many studies. The pandemic too re-emphasised the importance and positive externalities these programs provide. For instance, MGNREGA enabled households to tide over food insecurity, the broadening of account access showed how to serve all Indians better.

The demonitisation of financial liabilities has meant two things. First, it has stigmatised a population in need of support. Second, it has diverted attention from what ails the system and why it cannot serve those at the margins. On one hand, there is still a call to increase direct cash transfers. On the other hand, there is also a demand to double down on reforming delivery systems (PDS, job cards, insurance) to make them more inclusive and accountable. The idea is to ensure greater accessibility, fairer functioning and most importantly, increase dignity of access to public services.

The broadening of financial liabilities has meant three things so far. First, it diverted attention from the institutional rot which worsens social security of many. Second, the fundamental idea behind the safety net is now threatened. If the idea is to serve the poorest, it must do so in a way that does not diminish their public presence, and hence their social citizenship. Third, it puts the onus on the individual, instead of the state. The levels of destitution have already risen. State governments have often attempted to rescue the most 'worthy' poor with schemes such as Bhamashah, Ujjwala, PM Kisan, etc. Yet, even with such policies, coverage is patchy. Bizarrely, one could get ₹500 from one scheme, free food from a third, and LPG in another. However, these programs lack depth, and instead risk compartmentalising those in poverty. The fear is that the welfare architecture, having been government-built, will be blamed. The state opts to shift this to the individual.

People insist loans are a piped line. They selectively offer bad credit additional incentives (what banks do as stimulus) ignoring the very financial and social stress behind a crisis. Think about how carefully the credit card companies place ATMs at walking distance from their financiers’ offices, while the poor trek miles. You hear loud grumbling that banks are finally free of policy-driven lending after two years of lockdown-induced loan moratoriums. Far from that: most of the freedom has been granted by way of a regulatory forbearance. If banks in India have been nudged to lend to viable businesses, it means they are not business-unfriendly, nor risk-averse. Rather, it means that it’s not about borrowers’ ability to take risk. It reflects how the state itself became so uncertain to take risks in behalf of the poor. And the endgame to this failure is clear. The market’s preference for scale and efficiency over the safety net is likely to push the state’s fingers into deeper stress holes. Unless the state rechecks the rate of disbursement across schemes to study why such exclusion or hunger? Addressing hunger is not the point. The real challenge is that the hungry are now faceless. First, the state is now faceless. Second, the hungry are faceless. Third, the public is being made blind. The state can speak of numbers for weeks, but not of suffering. We ask the poor about the scale of their consumption and design reforms accordingly. The urban middle class constructs fairness in food choices based on television footage. College-educated voters back reformers who are aggressive. This is a crisis we could solve with ease, not in terms of money, but in terms of dignity. Sadly, our imagination is not working.

But the most important thing, is to talk about this. “The ‘welfare model’ is not about enabling a moral citizen unless it suits. Now it foolishly prescribes a new income credit-score metric. That it only fails the poor, yet claims to manage risk. Decline in morale likely will move in one direction,” the author ends.

When the COVID-19 pandemic struck, a social safety net was needed most. Yet the system fighting inequality in India faltered. Though the policies were perfectly geared on paper—targeted cash transfers, employment guarantee programs and subsidised meals for workers and families—they did not reach the unreached.

The workers had been left adrift for so long. Funded by the tax we all pay, and wrongly viewed often as favour or a misdirected inclusion, schemes like PDS (Public Distribution System), Jan Dhan, and MGNREGA have served as the most consistent support. Their expanding footprint and adoption have been praised in several quarters. That India’s safety net encourages and not hinders the incentive to work has been validated through many studies. The pandemic too re-emphasised the importance and positive externalities these programs provide. For instance, MGNREGA enabled households to tide over food insecurity, the broadening of account access showed how to serve all Indians better.

The demonitisation of financial liabilities has meant two things. First, it has stigmatised a population in need of support. Second, it has diverted attention from what ails the system and why it cannot serve those at the margins. On one hand, there is still a call to increase direct cash transfers. On the other hand, there is also a demand to double down on reforming delivery systems (PDS, job cards, insurance) to make them more inclusive and accountable. The idea is to ensure greater accessibility, fairer functioning and most importantly, increase dignity of access to public services.

The broadening of financial liabilities has meant three things so far. First, it diverted attention from the institutional rot which worsens social security of many. Second, the fundamental idea behind the safety net is now threatened. If the idea is to serve the poorest, it must do so in a way that does not diminish their public presence, and hence their social citizenship. Third, it puts the onus on the individual, instead of the state. The levels of destitution have already risen. State governments have often attempted to rescue the most 'worthy' poor with schemes such as Bhamashah, Ujjwala, PM Kisan, etc. Yet, even with such policies, coverage is patchy. Bizarrely, one could get ₹500 from one scheme, free food from a third, and LPG in another. However, these programs lack depth, and instead risk compartmentalising those in poverty. The fear is that the welfare architecture, having been government-built, will be blamed. The state opts to shift this to the individual.

People insist loans are a piped line. They selectively offer bad credit additional incentives (what banks do as stimulus) ignoring the very financial and social stress behind a crisis. Think about how carefully the credit card companies place ATMs at walking distance from their financiers’ offices, while the poor trek miles. You hear loud grumbling that banks are finally free of policy-driven lending after two years of lockdown-induced loan moratoriums. Far from that: most of the freedom has been granted by way of a regulatory forbearance. If banks in India have been nudged to lend to viable businesses, it means they are not business-unfriendly, nor risk-averse. Rather, it means that it’s not about borrowers’ ability to take risk. It reflects how the state itself became so uncertain to take risks in behalf of the poor. And the endgame to this failure is clear. The market’s preference for scale and efficiency over the safety net is likely to push the state’s fingers into deeper stress holes. Unless the state rechecks the rate of disbursement across schemes to study why such exclusion or hunger? Addressing hunger is not the point. The real challenge is that the hungry are now faceless. First, the state is now faceless. Second, the hungry are faceless. Third, the public is being made blind. The state can speak of numbers for weeks, but not of suffering. We ask the poor about the scale of their consumption and design reforms accordingly. The urban middle class constructs fairness in food choices based on television footage. College-educated voters back reformers who are aggressive. This is a crisis we could solve with ease, not in terms of money, but in terms of dignity. Sadly, our imagination is not working.

But the most important thing, is to talk about this. “The ‘welfare model’ is not about enabling a moral citizen unless it suits. Now it foolishly prescribes a new income credit-score metric. That it only fails the poor, yet claims to manage risk. Decline in morale likely will move in one direction,” the author ends.