annashay 
Over 4.6 crore cases are pending, some languishing for over three to five decades, in various courts across India. The Union Minister of Law and Justice, Arjun Ram Meghwal, revealed this staggering figure in the Rajya Sabha on July 31, 2025. It is more than a statistic; it is a mirror reflecting the slow heartbeat of our justice system. In a nation that dreams of becoming a superpower and achieving Viksit Bharat, such lethal delay is not just inefficiency, it is deadly inertia disguised as process.
A country’s progress is not measured only by its burgeoning population or the size of its GDP, but by the speed at which justice moves through its veins. Economic resurgence cannot survive when the courts that guard contracts, property, and rights move at the snailish pace of another century. Habitual adjournments, lax courtroom discipline including spate of appeals, and outdated scheduling systems have made lethal delay the new normal. Litigants spend years, often decades and many die waiting for resolution. Hope turns to fatigue; faith, to frustration.
India’s judiciary today stands at a paradox. We aspire for sustained economic growth beyond 8 per cent, yet our legal and regulatory machinery functions at a pitiable fraction of its potential. China, with nearly 12 per cent of its population engaged in litigation, still manages judicial efficiency that feeds its meteoric industrial rise. India, by contrast, has the same demographic power but an outdated legal spine that bends under its own weight. The tragedy is not that we have too many cases, it is that we have too little urgency.
Contract enforceability
Unless we unburden our courts and modernise justice delivery, we will continue to lose the economic race before it begins. Investors, both domestic and foreign, hesitate to enter a market where contracts are difficult to enforce and exits are uncertain. The World Bank’s Ease of Doing Business Index consistently ranks India poorly in Enforcing Contracts, where it takes, on average, more than four years to resolve a commercial dispute. For foreign investors, this is not a procedural inconvenience, it is a deal-breaker. Contract enforceability is the foundation of trust in a market economy. When that trust weakens, investment flees.
Our demographic dividend is also running on borrowed time. If not used wisely during this window of youth and skill synergy, it will fade, just as China’s has, dragging down growth. This decade is India’s moment to aim for double-digit expansion. But that ambition needs a justice system that clears the path, not one that clogs it. Justice cannot be eternal in its process and immediate in its promise. The two cannot coexist.
Reform must start where delay begins. Adjournments must be limited, accountability must be real, and hearings must follow timelines. Digitised docket management and AI-based case clustering are not futuristic ideals but urgent necessities. Without structural time reform, the judiciary risks becoming a monument of deadly inertia rather than a living vehicle of justice.
Number of appeals
Equally important is limiting the number of appeals. Today, India’s legal framework allows layer after layer of appeal, often turning litigation into a tool of attrition. Endless appeals convert justice into a war of endurance where truth is buried under paperwork. There must be a balance between the right to appeal and the need for closure. Cases that raise substantial questions of law or constitutional importance may rightly reach the higher courts, but not every minor dispute should travel through the entire judicial pyramid. Countries like Singapore and the UK have found this equilibrium and it is time we do too.
The deeper problem, however, lies in introspection or the lack of it. The Bar Council of India and other regulators continue to operate under frameworks that belong to another era. In 2025, the Bar Council imposed a three-year moratorium on new law colleges, citing poor education standards. But that was like applying a band-aid to a festering wound. Bright, young advocates from India’s top law schools still struggle for opportunities because they lack lineage. Without a family connection, even the most brilliant minds often go unnoticed in a system where reputation precedes merit. Inside the courtroom, ‘face value’ often triumphs over preparation.
When Indian banks resisted reform, it was the entry of foreign banks that forced change. The same could happen with entry of foreign law firms. Their presence, if regulated wisely, could push Indian firms to modernize, improve ethics, and adopt transparent practices. The Reserve Bank of India once set standards based on what worked globally. The Bar Council can do the same for law and justice.
The creation of an Indian Judicial Service, modelled on the Indian Administrative Service, could open doors for talented advocates to rise through merit rather than patronage. Yet every attempt at such reform faces resistance. The Advocates (Amendment) Bill, 2025, which proposed limited government representation in the Bar Council to ensure accountability, was rejected on the grounds of autonomy. But autonomy without accountability breeds opacity, not independence.
Other nations have long modernised their legal professions. The UK’s Bar Standards Board enforces clear disciplinary norms and public transparency. The US State Bars require continuing legal education and open complaint records. India, meanwhile, continues to rely on the Advocates Act of 1961 to regulate a profession that has transformed beyond recognition. Without vigilant regulation, reform becomes optional and power hereditary.
Junior advocates’ woes
The challenges extend beyond structure; they touch the soul of the profession. Junior advocates, often unpaid or severely underpaid, form the invisible scaffolding of India’s justice system. They draft pleadings, research cases, attend hearings, and prepare arguments, yet remain unseen and under-credited. Many work long hours without stipends, and a large number leave the profession altogether out of financial exhaustion. The result is a silent talent drain in a field that needs its brightest minds most. Mentorship must evolve from control to compassion.
A profession that seeks justice for others cannot deny fairness to its own. Mandatory stipends, formal apprenticeship contracts, whistle-blower protection, and Internal Complaints Committees under the POSH Act are not luxuries, they are the bare minimum of fairness. A Grievance Redressal Tribunal, independent of bar politics, could restore trust and dignity to young professionals.
India’s legal system no longer needs introspection; it needs intervention. A Legal Profession Regulation Bill can bring long-overdue order by mandating standardised pay, safe working conditions, and regular independent audits of Bar Councils. Courts too must adhere to strict disposal timelines, with penalties for habitual delays. The Senior Advocate designation should be based on transparent merit and subject to review, not reserved as a lifetime title. These are not radical ideas, they are rational ones. Reform is not rebellion; it is renewal. If the judiciary is to remain the moral compass of India, it must first allow itself to be recalibrated. The government’s role is not to dominate the legal profession but to democratise it.
The Bhartiya Nyay Palika draws its moral power from the Constitution, but the system it sustains has remained frozen in time. True reform must go beyond the rhetoric of change and reach into how law is taught, practised, and enforced. Justice will find its true meaning only when reformation becomes lived reality, not legal vocabulary. This is not a call for disruption, it is a call for courage. The courage to believe that the law can be both sagacious in wisdom and modern in practice. Reform begins not in statute books, but in the willingness and determination to change. And finally, in its hallowed role as the last resort of the common citizen, India’s judiciary, like Caesar’s wife, must remain above suspicion.
Datt is student, and Nandy is Professor, School of Law, NMIMS, Navi Mumbai
Published on December 2, 2025
