Sanjeev Sanyal Is Right: The Judiciary Cannot Remain India’s Untouchable Institution

In recent days, Sanjeev Sanyal’s remarks on the Indian judiciary have gone viral. The economist and member of the Prime Minister’s Economic Advisory Council described the judicial system as the “biggest hurdle” to India’s ambition of becoming a developed nation by 2047. He questioned the archaic rituals of “My Lord,” the colonial hangover of “prayers,” the long summer vacations, and the persistence of mandatory mediation that fails in most cases. The legal fraternity bristled at his words, but their viral spread signals something important. Citizens believe he is saying out loud what they have long felt.

This is not an outsider’s casual swipe at an institution of governance. It is a recognition of what every litigant, entrepreneur, and citizen has experienced. Justice in India is delayed, costly and inaccessible. The legal profession in India continues to be the most buttoned up profession - conservative, colonial and resistant to change. Sanyal’s comments draw a straight line between judicial inefficiency and the broader national aspiration for growth and development.

The rituals Sanyal pointed out may appear symbolic, but they reflect a deeper problem. The practice of addressing judges as “My Lord” or “Your Lordship” has been officially discouraged by the Bar Council of India since 2006, when it resolved that lawyers should instead say “Your Honour” or “Sir.” The Supreme Court has also clarified that no litigant or lawyer is obliged to use colonial forms of address. Yet in practice, the tradition persists in daily courtroom exchanges. Similarly, petitions continue to use the word “prayer” to describe the relief sought, a drafting convention inherited from English practice.

The court calendar compounds this problem. The Supreme Court typically has a six-week summer break along with shorter recesses during Dussehra and Christmas. High Courts also follow vacation schedules. Although vacation benches do sit, the symbolism of long breaks undermines public confidence when pendency is already high. In July 2025, the National Judicial Data Grid recorded close to five crore pending cases across the system. At current rates of disposal, it would take years to clear these backlogs.

Sanyal’s central point is that judicial inefficiency undermines India’s economic rise. The World Bank’s Doing Business 2020 report ranked India 163rd out of 190 countries on contract enforcement, with an average time of 1,445 days to resolve a commercial dispute. Infrastructure projects are often held up in litigation, while land and property disputes remain among the most common civil cases across Indian courts.

Pre-litigation mediation, introduced under the Commercial Courts Act in 2018, was meant to divert disputes away from trial. In practice, however, it has shown very low success rates in major centres such as Mumbai, and many litigants are forced back into the regular courts. Rather than easing the burden, it often adds delay and expense.

The consequences are that Investors factor legal uncertainty into their risk assessments. Businesses hesitate to expand in sectors where contract enforcement is unpredictable. For citizens, “tareekh pe tareekh”which is the well known loop of endless adjournments and remains the familiar reality.

Another issue Sanyal raised deserves emphasis. Policymakers often draft laws with excessive complexity, anticipating misuse by a small minority. This produces statutes filled with exceptions and provisos, which then require layers of judicial interpretation. The Insolvency and Bankruptcy Code illustrates this problem. Although it mandates time-bound resolution within 330 days, cases take almost twice as long in practice, with the Insolvency and Bankruptcy Board of India reporting average durations of more than 600 days.

If the judicial system were trusted to enforce straightforward rules swiftly and predictably, lawmakers would not feel compelled to legislate defensively. Reforming the judiciary is therefore not only about reducing case backlogs. It is about creating the conditions for clearer, simpler governance.

Defenders of the judiciary argue that independence is its most sacred value. That is correct, but independence cannot mean immunity from scrutiny. Accountability does not mean executive control. It means the judiciary must be answerable for efficiency, transparency, and accessibility.

It is possible to hold two ideas together. The judiciary is a vital bulwark against executive excess. But it also risks becoming an impediment to justice and development when it clings to outdated practices, tolerates chronic pendency, and resists modernisation. Independence should empower the judiciary to reform itself, not shield it from public criticism.

Sanyal’s intervention is powerful because he is not a lawyer or a judge. He is an economist who frames the judiciary as an economic institution. By linking judicial reform to India’s development trajectory, he reframes the debate. His words resonate because they reflect lived experience: until courts deliver justice, India’s progress will remain incomplete.

That his remarks went viral is no accident because mirror public frustration. Citizens want a judiciary that is independent and impartial, but also efficient and responsive.

India has transformed in its economy and aspirations. Its citizens demand faster governance and modern institutions. The judiciary, however, remains bound by rituals, long vacations, and delays that belong to another era. Sanjeev Sanyal’s provocation matters not because it is perfect but because it is necessary.

Justice delayed is justice denied. And justice denied is development denied. Unless the judiciary reforms itself, it risks being remembered not as the guardian of the republic but as the obstacle to its full promise.