UNEPs 7th Frontiers Report

 The United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP) released its 7th Frontiers report, *The Weight of Time*, in July 2025. It warns of growing threats from extreme heat and toxic pollution to the world’s ageing population. The report marks how climate change and environmental hazards increasingly endanger older adults, especially in urban and low- to middle-income regions.

Rising Heat Threats to Older Adults

Heat-related deaths among people aged 65 and above have surged by 85% since the 1990s. If global temperatures rise by 2°C, deaths could increase by 370% by 2050. Older adults have reduced ability to regulate body temperature. Extreme heat raises risks of cardiovascular, respiratory, and cerebrovascular diseases such as stroke and pneumonia. Tropical and mid-latitude regions face doubled or even tenfold rises in dangerous heat exposure. India already shows increased heatwave days for the elderly.

Urban Ageing and Climate Vulnerability

Cities will house 68% of the global population by 2050, with a rising share of older residents. In 2015, 58% of people aged 60+ lived in urban areas. Older people often move to cities for healthcare and social access. However, urban heat islands and pollution worsen risks during heatwaves and climate disasters. The report urges cities to become age-friendly, resilient, and greener to protect elderly residents.

Legacy Pollutants and Flood Risks

Flooding can release toxic legacy pollutants buried in sediments. These include heavy metals like lead and cadmium, and persistent organic chemicals from pesticides and industrial waste. Such pollutants do not degrade easily and accumulate in rivers, lakes, and coastal sediments. Floodwaters can spread these toxins into the environment and food chains, causing neurotoxicity, cancer, and reproductive harm. Examples include floods in Texas (2017), Niger Delta (2012), and Pakistan (2010, 2022).

Environmental and Health Impacts of Pollutants

Cadmium and other pollutants harm sediment-dwelling organisms and humans. Cadmium is carcinogenic and disrupts endocrine functions. It can damage kidneys, bones, and affect pregnancies. UNEP calls for more research on pollutant release during floods to assess risks to ecosystems and health. Monitoring polluted sediments is crucial as rainfall intensity and flood events increase globally.

Solutions – Urban Planning and Flood Management

The report recommends the ‘15-minute city’ model to support ageing in place by ensuring essential services are within walking or cycling distance. This reduces car use and pollution. Flood-control strategies should combine nature-based solutions like wetlands restoration with traditional infrastructure such as dikes and retention basins. River basin management plans must balance flood retention with ecosystem conservation. Adaptive management and community involvement are vital for effective response to contaminant remobilisation.

Strong unity

 

Ambedkar and Gandhi’s dream of a functional form of consensual democracy is dead in the Houses of elected representatives. But in scattered villages that thought is still alive

A motley group of villagers are engaged in a quiet consultative meeting. Each one of them speaks his or her mind on the issue at hand: which millets to take up for this season; the challenges they will confront in planting a new crop; if and how the millets would benefit them. They speak freely and frankly, and without any agitation in their voices, even when they differ on some points with others. After the day’s proceedings, consensus is sealed and decision taken. This is a recent incident in the tiny, nondescript village of Bijapur, inhabited by Gond tribals, in the north of Gadchiroli district, one of the most economically backward districts in Maharashtra.

Miles away from Bijapur, in an equally backward and often cut-off region of Melghat, a hilly and forested part of Amravati district in the same state, poor and uneducated Korku tribals of Sosokheda village are brooding over their problems. At the gram sabha, one by one, they speak of their problems and discuss possible and potential solutions — administrative, technical, and social. Again, it is a dialogue, not confrontation.

Move to Enabavi, a non-­tribal village in Telangana’s erstwhile district of Warangal which became one of the first fully-organic villages of the country. Here too, decisions are not taken by a majority vote but through a long consultative process which M.K. Gandhi would see as a working model of consensual democracy. Differences are honoured; contrarian views and opinions respected with humility.

These are but a few samples of the functional forms of consensual democracy at the grassroots; there are thousands of such villages, even small towns, where people participate and engage with their issues, and do not leave it to the elected few to evolve solutions to their complex problems. Remarkably, while most of rural India wilts in the face of a deepening economic distress, these villages stand up to the test of time and deal with their problems collectively, with all their wisdom.

This writer has observed the workings and functioning of these and many such villages across India with a sense of adulation, as they portray a refreshing contrast to the dysfunctionality of our country’s higher Houses of elected representatives where, for over a decade now, dialogue seems to be an anathema. Even the media, supposed to be platforms for dialogue and different points of view, do not reflect the maturity that the tiny and dispersed pool of such villages demonstrate in dealing with the poly-crises they confront. They are economically lagging, but evolved in their behaviour.

A veteran advocate of the consensual form of democracy, Devaji Tofa, from Mendha Lekha — the place where the slogan, “Mawa Nate, Mawa Raj” (my rule in my village) first echoed loudly — told this writer once: “there could be delays in our decision-making, because it takes time to forge a consensus, but once a decision is taken by all of us, it clears a robust path for a better future. We are in it or out of it together.”

Some of these villages have people belonging to different faiths, castes, and classes, and yet they have found a way in collective decision-making and problem-solving. They function mostly without the backing of the Indian State. If at all, the State complicates their existence with an endless list of impractical and often autocratic rules.

B.R. Ambedkar and Gandhi’s dream of a functional form of consensual democracy is dead in the Houses of elected representatives. One helplessly watches the pointless proceedings of the legislatures, the abdication of basic responsibilities by those in power, autocratic governance at every level, the lack of answers on questions of national importance and so on. But in scattered villages, even small towns, in the nook and corner of this vast and diverse land, that thought is still alive as seeds waiting to germinate.

Jaideep Hardikar

Source: Telegraph India, 11/07/25

Lady Justice

 Justice B.V. Nagarathna recently said that at least 30% of law officers representing the Centre and the state governments should be women, highlighting the urgent need for gender diversity in the judiciary. While women have made significant strides in the legal profession in India, systemic barriers continue to hinder their full participation at higher levels.

The enrolment of women in law schools has seen a remarkable rise over the years. In some premier institutions, women constitute nearly 40-50% of students. Women have also been making inroads as public prosecutors and corporate lawyers, challenging traditional gender norms. Several landmark moments reflect this shift. Justice Leila Seth became the first woman judge of Delhi High Court in 1991, and the first woman chief justice of a state high court. In 2018, Justice Indu Malhotra became the first woman lawyer to be directly appointed as a judge of the Supreme Court of India from the bar. Nagarathna herself is poised to become the first woman CJI in 2027. These developments signal a gradual, albeit slow, transformation.

Women make up only 13.4% of the judges in the high courts and just 9.3% in the Supreme Court. In eight high courts, there is either no woman judge or just one. The Allahabad High Court, the largest in the country, has only three women judges out of 79. At present, the Gujarat High Court is the only one with a woman chief justice. Additionally, women judges are appointed at an older average age (53 years) compared to men (51.8 years), limiting their chances of reaching senior positions. The situation in the Supreme Court is even more alarming. Despite a sanctioned strength of 34 judges, the court has historically had very few women justices. At present, it has only one sitting woman judge.

Across the higher judiciary, women make up only 14.27% of the total judges, with just 109 women judges out of a working strength of 764. The Centre told Parliament in February that since 2018, only 17% of lawyers elevated to various high courts have been women. The gender disparity is even starker in the Supreme Court where not a single woman has been appointed among the 28 judges inducted since 2021. Over the last 75 years, the Supreme Court has had just 11 women judges — an abysmal 4% of the total 276 judges.

There are structural barriers that contribute to this under-representation. Women struggle to gain senior designations in the Bar and face resistance in being considered for elevation to the Bench. The absence of transparent selection criteria disproportionately hinders women as the male-dominated Collegium allegedly often overlooks meritorious female lawyers. Lack of mentorship and an unsupportive work environment discourage women from sustaining long careers. Sexism in the judiciary runs deep. The senior advocate, Indira Jaising, once stated that a senior male lawyer addressed her as ‘that woman’, whereas he referred to his male counterparts as ‘my learned friend’. Litigants also often exhibit bias against women lawyers, tending to favour male lawyers.

There is a need for legislative interventions for greater female participation in the judiciary. A transparent and inclusive appointment process, encouraging mentorship programmes and institutional support for women in law can ensure career longevity. Addressing gender biases at a cultural level is essential for true parity in the legal profession. Systemic reforms and proactive measures are necessary to ensure that women rise to the highest echelons of the judiciary. Just as caste, religion, and regional representation are often considered in judicial appointments to ensure a representative judiciary, gender diversity must also be a key factor. The higher judiciary should aim for at least one-third representation for women, if not an equal share, to ensure a more balanced and inclusive Bench.

Aditya Mukherjee

Source: Telegraph, 26/05/25

Yashoda AI

 The recently launched Yashoda AI – Your AI SAKHI aims to enhance women’s literacy in artificial intelligence and digital awareness. Spearheaded by the National Commission for Women (NCW), it targets women from rural and semi-urban areas. The programme aligns with India’s vision of a Viksit Bharat, promoting technology and inclusion.

Objectives of Yashoda AI

Yashoda AI seeks to empower women by providing essential skills in artificial intelligence, cybersecurity, and digital safety. The initiative aims to encourage digital literacy and self-reliance among women. It encourages active participation in discussions about AI-related crimes and digital privacy.

Community Engagement

The initiative promotes community-driven digital education. It actively involves students, educators, and policewomen. This engagement ensures that women are not just learners but also leaders in the digital space. The programme aims to create a supportive environment for women to thrive in technology.

Importance of Digital Literacy

Digital literacy is crucial in ‘s technology-driven world. Yashoda AI focuses on equipping women with the knowledge to navigate the digital landscape confidently. This includes understanding digital safety and the implications of AI on society. The initiative aims to prepare women for the challenges posed by the digital age.

Collaboration with Future Shift Labs

Yashoda AI is a collaboration between NCW and Future Shift Labs (FSL). FSL is known for its work on ethical technology deployment. This partnership aims to create frameworks for responsible AI and digital inclusion. Together, they strive to build an inclusive technological landscape for women.

Key Messages from the Launch

The launch event featured notable speakers who brought into light the importance of digital empowerment. They emphasised the need for women’s leadership in technology. The presence of NCW dignitaries reinforced the message of equity in India’s technological journey.

Economic & Political Weekly: Table of Contents

 

Vol. 60, Issue No. 21, 24 May, 2025

Editorials

Human Development Is Stuck in a Rut

Delimitation and Deepening Federalism

From 25 Years Ago

From 25 Years Ago: Tamil-Friendly Hindutva

From 50 Years Ago

From 50 Years Ago: A Very Indian Summer

Law and Society

CJI Khanna’s Tenure

Alok Prasanna Kumar

Commentary

Creating a Database - Disaster Management (Amendment) Act, 2025

Biswanath Dash

Rethinking Marriage - The Case against Marital Rape

Indira Jaising

Identity versus Identification - Surveillance through Family ID

Akshra Mehla, Lakshay Mehla

UGC’s Proposed Grading Metrics and Faculty Norms - Strategic Enforcement of NEP 2020

Sony Kuriakose, N K Nikhil

Shyam Benegal (1934–2024) - A Tribute

Atul Tiwari

Book Reviews

Body as an Epistemic Reality

Richa Shukla

The Centrality of Inequality

Pulin B Nayak

Special Articles

Poverty and Inequality in India - Before and after COVID-19

Arvind Panagariya, Vishal More

Why Should I Get Paid? - Unpaid Labour among Women Weavers in Varanasi

Laeek Ahemad Siddiqui, Namrata Shokeen

Are Infant Mortality Rates Converging across Indian States? - A Club Convergence Analysis

Jeet Saha, Zafar Iqubal

Political Imaginaries of Peasants and Workers in Kashmir - A Study of the Kisan Mazdoor Conference

Shiraz Ahmad Dar, Rouf Ahmad Dar, Javid Ahmad Dar

Perspectives

Visualising the Invisible - Re-examining Women’s Labour Force Participation in India

Sarika Chaudhary, Amaresh Dubey, Surbhi Malhotra, Wendy Olsen

Postscript

Erased Pasts and the Politics of Space in Agartala

Aniket Nandan, Swarupa Deb

I Refuse to Die - Remembering G N Saibaba’s Rhetoric of Resistance

Smitha Mary Sebastian, Santosh Kumar

Interfaith Dialogue and Cultural Syncretism in Arnos Pathiri’s Puthen Pana

V K Karthika

Last Lines

Current Statistics

Current Statistics

Letters

Beyond Statehood: From Hope to the Inclusion Gap

Raju Chaketi

Digital Access as a Fundamental Right

Tripti Bhushan, Spandan Srivastava

Engage-Articles

Critique in Dark Times: Centenary of the Frankfurt School’s Critical Theory and its Global Relevance

Anindya Sekhar Purakayastha

Influencer Advertising on Digital Media: An Indian Political Economy of Communications Perspective

Pooja Sharma

A properly conducted caste census offers a rare chance to ground policy in reality

 The Narendra Modi government’s decision to include caste enumeration in the forthcoming Census must be welcomed, but with enormous caution and with our fingers crossed. Given the propensity of our political class to use caste for narrow and short-term electoral gain, a lot of scepticism about the matter is warranted.

The rationale for a caste census ought to be based on two considerations. First, however complex caste is, it cannot be ignored as it impinges on every aspect of life in this country. Counting and collating social reality is inherently good for administrative purposes. The second consideration is the other side of the coin — that we must end both policymaking and arguments relying on “guesstimates” of the socio-economic status of the castes.

The government might have solved the problem of facing increasing demands for caste census, and also scored a few brownie points, but it has set in motion a very delicate, daunting and contentious journey. Though the future is unknown, one is free to speculate on the trajectory of the caste census, if the saga of the 2011 Socio-Economic and Caste Census (SECC) is any indication. It is hard to judge whether SECC was an exercise in bad faith, or if it ran aground as the complexities of caste were too many. One problem is the sheer number of castes to be enumerated, and the other, the confusion over some caste names. For example, whereas the 1931 census counted 4,147 castes, the number increased to 46,73,034 when the SECC was carried out. The forthcoming enumeration has reportedly taken into account these problems, and the final number of castes will be a few thousand and in the region of the 1931 numbers, not in lakhs as in the SECC.

The tenacity of caste is another problem that’s been bedevilling India’s social policy. Be it formulating rights and privileges, or giving effect to those rights — for example, in the form of granting quotas — the state is becoming a handmaid to society: Instead of being guided by norms and ideals that the Constitution enshrines, the state merely acquiesces to the agenda set by society. Hence, the demand for a caste census. Ironically, the reason several castes are clamouring to be counted formally is the logic that the numbers determine the rights, or the quantum of quotas. The numbers game must give us two nightmares. On the electoral/ political plane, the fine slicing of society into a few thousand pieces will ultimately result in political instability. India has been lucky to have produced, at the national level, two big-tent parties (BJP and Congress) and charismatic leaders. Tragic will be the day when the country runs out of luck.

The second nightmare is administrative. It is not merely a matter of facing more demands for quotas or sub-quotas. Even after adding copious portions of good faith to the exercise, the end result will be contentious. Can the government use the caste census to bring clarity and finality to the never-ending demands for quotas and sub-quotas? Be that as it may, this stupendous challenge can also be an opportunity if the government is willing to bring about a paradigm shift. Since 1935, when the Dalits and tribals were christened respectively as Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes (SC/STs), all law-making and policy formulation on quotas have miraculously been in sync with the caste divisions prescribed by Manusmriti. In the context of the four-fold caste system, the “top” three (the so-called twice-born) castes are now classified as Economically Weaker Sections (EWSs), the fourth cluster (Shudras) is identified as Other Backward Classes (OBCs) and the Most Backward Classes (MBCs). Those outside the caste fold are the SC/STs.

The SC/STs have distinct identities of being victims of untouchability and physical isolation, among others. Therefore, no other social group can be classified as one of them. But, within the four-fold caste system, one can find ample evidence of an upper caste household (EWS) being almost similar to an OBC household, or vice versa. Therefore, we must end the fiction that upper castes merely suffer from economic backwardness, whereas the OBCs suffer from both economic and social backwardness.

Of course, the clustering of castes for granting quotas is an administrative exercise, not a matter related to the Constitution or the census enumeration. However, since this counting is taking place in the context of quotas, while counting castes for what they are, the collection of household data needs to be expanded so that the categorisation of households based on their backwardness becomes possible. This will enable an OBC category to encompass not only the Shudra households but also upper caste households. A brave government can go so far as to cluster creamy-layer SC/STs with the other two groups, and so on and so forth.

There are two benefits of collecting adequate household data that would enable the government to come up with new categorisations based on the socio-economic status of castes. One, caste divisions within the Hindu society could be minimised if the government regards it as desirable. Two, the census data could be the sole criterion for all governments to consider quota-related demands.

To belabour the point, a re-categorisation of households of the 4,000 or so castes into three or four groups based on socio-economic criteria could bring about some sanity to our politics and governance.

D SHYAM BABU

Source: Indian Express, 26/05/25

What was the Radical Students Union, which gave rise to many Maoist leaders in India?

 In April 1972, a young student leader of Osmania University (OU) in Hyderabad, George Reddy, was allegedly killed by members of a right-wing group. While this led to widespread protests and student mobilisation at the time, almost three years later, on February 20, 1975, a students’ outfit — Radical Students Union (RSU) — was born out of the embers of this incident. The outfit was banned by the government of India in 1992.

While the RSU as an outfit gradually lost steam, 50 years after its formation, its influence is still alive, as two of the top Maoists in the country – the slain Nambala Keshava Rao alias Basavaraju and the next in command Thippiri Tirupathi alias Devuji – are both products of RSU. So is the spokesperson and the current ideological fountainhead of the Maoist party, Mallojula Venugopal Rao alias Sonu.

As the Communist Party of India (Maoist) seems to be nearing their endgame, with the Centre setting a deadline of March 31, 2026 to mark the end of Naxalism in India, The Indian Express takes a look at the banned students’ outfit that contributed the rank and file of the party.

Early days

“The RSU was a prominent student organisation born out of several incidents, including the Naxalbari movement of the 1960s and ‘70s which led to widespread students’ uprising in the country. George Reddy’s killing was a trigger,” said a former students union leader on the condition of anonymity. An intelligence official from Telangana who has mapped the origins and growth of the RSU said, “At the time, campuses were up in flames, including Osmania University and REC (Regional Engineering College, which later turned into National Institute of Technology) Warangal. From these students’ movements, several people were recruited into the underground party.” At the time, RSU was considered the student union of People’s War Group (or the Communist Party of India (Marxist–Leninist) People’s War). “There was a student outfit that represented PWG, the Progressive Democratic Students Union (PDSU). But the PDSU split in 1975 to form the RSU, which was more radical in its outlook,” the official said.

RSU’s involvement in social issues

These students considered academics only a tool for social revolution, a student leader said. “Across campuses, students used to talk about issues gripping the country, such as poverty and casteism. In those days, the students led protests in villages against feudal landlords,” said the former student leader.

For example, students were part of the Srikakulam Peasant uprising in the undivided Andhra Pradesh that lasted between 1967 and 1970. “The RSU basically referenced several social movements and built its cadre. The cadre later went underground,” an internal security official told the Indian Express.

There were times when the reach of the RSU was such that their underground and overground cadre roamed freely in the villages of Warangal and Karimnagar, a state official explained. These were called the ‘Go to the Villages’ campaigns. “The RSU even contested elections in some campuses, including REC-Warangal. Most of the top leadership of the Maoist party — many of whom are from the Telugu-speaking states — have some link to the RSU,” the official said.

Ban, and decline

In Hyderabad, a 50-year remembrance event of the RSU was held on February 20. One of the organisers of the event, N Venugopal, later wrote, “There was not a single student issue left unaddressed by the RSU. The RSU’s commitment to bringing social awareness to students and the people and involving them in struggles for their community’s rights, along with building relationships with the masses, was crucial.”

After the party was banned, its members remained involved with other Maoist groups. A top internal security official said, “RSU’s influence waned because of the ban. But the cadre was always active in some or the other frontal organisation of the Maoists.” In 2004, when the People’s War and Maoist Communist Centre merged to form the CPI (Maoist), the RSU was fully subsumed underground. “Offshoots came only in the form of some writers’ collectives and such. The state managed to curb this militant outfit even before it could complete its silver jubilee,” the official said.

Written by Nikhila Henry

Source: The Indian Express, 25/05/25