OPINION I Times of India

India’s decision to include caste enumeration in the upcoming national census marks a significant shift in how the state understands its people. This can be a transformative step towards evidence-based, inclusive governance — if implemented with care, clarity, and purpose.

For decades, development has moved ahead with a critical blind spot. While we’ve pursued GDP growth, digitisation, and global competitiveness, we’ve largely ignored caste — a structure that continues to shape access to education, employment, healthcare, housing, and justice. Though we disaggregate data by gender, geography, and age, caste has remained statistically invisible, despite its persistent role in determining life outcomes.

This invisibility has produced a paradox: we debate reservation policies without knowing the real distribution of disadvantage, and deploy caste-neutral tools in a deeply stratified society. Well-meaning policies often miss their mark because the information base is incomplete. Caste enumeration offers a chance to correct this misalignment. It can generate granular insights into how various communities live — not just their population size, but the social and economic conditions they face. This is not about reinforcing identities, but about recognising structural inequities. If we want caste to matter less tomorrow, we must first understand how much it still matters today.

However, it’s essential to recognise that the census is not a substitute for scientific sample surveys. The census provides scope, not depth. Its role is to offer a foundational map of diversity, not a detailed diagnosis. This makes the inclusion of well-crafted, relevant questions in the caste module paramount — questions that capture socio-economic realities like education, occupation, asset ownership, and access to basic services.

The data collected should serve as a launchpad for deeper, need-based studies. Focused surveys, conducted by institutions like the National Sample Survey Office or independent research bodies, will be crucial for unpacking regional, community-specific, and intersectional disparities. This layered approach — broad census followed by focused inquiry — is what distinguishes robust evidence-based policymaking in countries like Brazil and South Africa.

Equally important is that such data can help objectively rationalise the extensive array of caste-based welfare schemes and reservation policies currently run by central and state govts. With credible evidence in hand, policymakers can assess whether these schemes are reaching the most disadvantaged groups or merely serving administrative categories. This allows for a more inclusive and sustainable model of development, one that reaches the last-mile beneficiary based on actual need — irrespective of caste labels, but grounded in social and economic realities.

Undoubtedly, the exercise carries political and social risks. Critics fear that caste enumeration may harden identities or fuel populist demands. In India’s highly charged political environment, such concerns are not without merit. But fear of misuse cannot justify statistical blindness. The real challenge is to ensure statecraft, not state silence.

What’s required is a transparent, ethically grounded process. Global best practices offer guidance. US, for example, uses racial and ethnic data not to divide, but to enforce civil rights and shape affirmative action. South Africa uses such data to monitor post-apartheid transformation. India must similarly anonymise data, protect privacy, and establish an independent oversight mechanism to ensure that data collection and usage remain aligned with constitutional values.

Crucially, caste enumeration should be seen not merely as an instrument of social audit but as a tool of equity diagnostics. Just as gender-disaggregated data has improved maternal health outcomes and informed women-focused policies, caste data can help address development gaps that have persisted for generations.

Moreover, this moment offers an opportunity to reframe the public discourse on caste. Too often, caste is reduced to who gets how much reservations. But caste-based exclusion is far more complex. It spans generations and penetrates education systems, labour markets, law enforcement, and social capital. Addressing it demands more than quotas. It calls for investments in school quality, credit access, healthcare equity, skilling, and institutional reform.

If implemented with integrity, caste enumeration can democratise data. It can shift political debate from anecdote to analysis, empower communities with evidence to make claims, and hold policymakers accountable to outcomes rather than promises. It can also help recalibrate existing policies to reflect real, contemporary patterns of disadvantage — moving beyond outdated assumptions or fixed lists.

As India approaches 100 years of Independence with the vision of Viksit Bharat, it must confront a difficult truth: development cannot be built on foundations of invisibility. A bridge to an inclusive future must be supported by facts. To exclude caste from the census is to continue policymaking in the dark. To include it (thoughtfully and responsibly) is to bring long-overdue light to the problem we seek to solve.

Caste enumeration is not about division. It is about design — designing fairer systems, targeted interventions, and more inclusive institutions. It is not about looking backward. It is about moving forward — justly, wisely, and with eyes open. The numbers we gather today will shape the justice we deliver tomorrow.