Categories
Health

India’s Anaemia Strategy Is Entering a निर्णायक Moment

For decades, India has treated anaemia as a problem of supply. More iron tablets. More fortified food and more schemes layered onto an already crowded nutrition architecture. But the numbers have barely budged. According to NFHS-5, over 57 per cent of Indian women and nearly 60 per cent of adolescent girls are anaemic — figures that have remained stubbornly high despite years of programme expansion.

What has been missing is not intent, but design.

A recent cluster-randomised trial conducted by the Indian Council of Medical Research–National Institute of Nutrition (ICMR-NIN) in Telangana may finally offer the clearest empirical signal yet that India’s anaemia response needs a structural reset. Published in BMJ Global Health, the study evaluates a population-wide Screen and Treat for Anaemia Reduction (STAR) strategy — and its implications go well beyond supplementation.

What the STAR trial changes

The STAR model departs from India’s prevailing approach in one critical way: it assumes that anaemia cannot be addressed effectively without first being identified, at scale, and in real time.

Conducted across 14 villages in Telangana, the study compared routine care under existing national programmes with a proactive, community-level screening and doorstep treatment strategy. Over 6,100 individuals aged six months to 50 years were screened using portable point-of-care haemoglobin analysers. Treatment was tailored: therapeutic iron–folic acid (IFA) doses for those with anaemia, and prophylactic doses for those without, aligned with national guidelines.

The results are difficult to ignore.

Among adolescent girls aged 10–19 years, anaemia prevalence declined by 15.3 percentage points, with mean haemoglobin levels increasing by 0.73 g/dL. Women of reproductive age also saw measurable gains, with a 4.4 percentage point reduction in anaemia prevalence. Overall anaemia prevalence in intervention clusters fell to 29.6 per cent, compared to 32.5 per cent in control areas.

In a policy landscape often dominated by modelling and assumptions, this is rare: direct, population-level evidence that proactive screening outperforms opportunistic, facility-based care.

Why current programmes plateau

India’s flagship Anaemia Mukt Bharat strategy has expanded coverage across age groups, but its architecture remains largely prophylactic and episodic. Screening is often limited to pregnant women or conducted opportunistically when individuals access health facilities. This approach misses precisely those groups most at risk: adolescents, out-of-school girls and women whose daily labour leaves little time for clinic visits.

High-impact global research has long warned against this gap. Analyses in The Lancet Global Health and BMJ show that iron deficiency explains only about half of anaemia cases among women in low- and middle-income countries. Chronic inflammation, repeated infections, micronutrient interactions and cumulative dietary inadequacy account for the rest. Without systematic detection, these cases remain invisible.

The STAR trial demonstrates that anaemia is not failing to respond because interventions are ineffective, but because they are poorly targeted.

The compliance paradox

The study also surfaces a crucial constraint. Despite doorstep delivery and behaviour change communication, adherence to IFA remained modest — 32 per cent for therapeutic doses and 47.5 per cent for prophylactic doses.

This finding aligns with a growing body of evidence in Public Health Nutrition and Social Science & Medicine that supplementation alone cannot overcome social, sensory, and behavioural barriers. Side effects, misconceptions, gender norms and competing priorities all shape adherence. Screening identifies anaemia; sustained engagement determines whether treatment works.

In other words, testing is necessary but not sufficient.

Anaemia as a life-course condition

What the STAR model implicitly recognises — and what policy has been slow to accept — is that anaemia is a life-course condition, not a pregnancy-specific one.

By adolescence, many Indian girls have already accumulated years of nutritional deficit. Menstrual blood loss, growth spurts, early marriage and closely spaced pregnancies further deplete iron stores. Research in Nature Reviews Disease Primers underscores that late intervention cannot fully reverse the neurocognitive and metabolic effects of early deficiency.

This is why upstream platforms matter. Schools, community centres and mobile health units offer continuity that antenatal clinics cannot. They also allow anaemia to be addressed alongside nutrition literacy, menstrual health, and dietary diversity — factors that shape long-term outcomes.

Where civil society fits in

The policy implication of STAR is not merely to scale screening, but to embed it within trusted delivery platforms. This is where civil society organisations become system enablers rather than parallel providers.

Smile Foundation, for instance, operates at precisely this intersection. Across its health programme, the Foundation integrates regular haemoglobin screening with counselling, dietary diversification and menstrual health education, particularly for adolescent girls.

Through initiatives such as Project Poshan and Swabhiman, Smile Foundation follows girls longitudinally, recognising that anaemia prevention requires repeated engagement across life stages. Its mobile health units extend screening and counselling to tribal and peri-urban areas where laboratory access is limited, operationalising a “screen and treat” approach in contexts the public system struggles to reach.

Equally important is the Foundation’s emphasis on food-based solutions. Nutri-gardens, locally sourced meals and promotion of iron-rich traditional foods complement fortified products rather than replacing them. This mirrors findings from The American Journal of Clinical Nutrition and Food Policy, which caution against over-reliance on ultra-processed fortified foods without broader dietary diversity.

Anaemia as an economic constraint

The persistence of anaemia is a productivity constraint.

Economic analyses published in The Review of Economics and Statistics link anaemia to reduced cognitive performance, lower educational attainment, and diminished lifetime earnings. The World Bank estimates that anaemia can cost high-burden countries up to 4 per cent of GDP annually through lost productivity and increased healthcare expenditure.

For adolescents, the consequences are immediate: poor concentration, fatigue and higher dropout risk. For women, anaemia reduces work capacity and increases vulnerability to economic shocks. Addressing anaemia, therefore, is not only a nutritional imperative but a macroeconomic one.

What scaling STAR would require

The STAR trial offers proof of concept, not a turnkey solution. Scaling it nationally would require:

  • Integration with existing platforms, including schools, Anganwadi centres and digital health systems under Ayushman Bharat.
  • Frontline capacity building, so screening and counselling are not reduced to mechanical tasks.
  • Data continuity, enabling haemoglobin tracking across life stages rather than one-time measurements.
  • Behavioural investment, recognising that adherence depends as much on trust and norms as on access.

Most importantly, it would require a shift in how success is measured. Tablets distributed are not outcomes. Functional gains are.

A decisive moment

India has reached a point where the evidence is no longer ambiguous. The STAR trial confirms what researchers have argued for years: anaemia cannot be reduced at scale without proactive identification and continuous engagement.

The choice now is whether to treat this finding as another pilot success, or as a mandate to redesign national strategy. If India opts for the latter, the gains will extend far beyond haemoglobin levels. They will be felt in classrooms where girls can concentrate, in workplaces where women can perform at full capacity, and in households where health is no longer silently traded for survival.

Anaemia has endured not because it is intractable, but because it has been approached too narrowly. STAR shows what is possible when policy finally aligns with physiology, behaviour and systems.

Categories
Education

STEM Reform: When Science becomes Something Students can Touch

In a government school classroom in Siddharthnagar, eastern Uttar Pradesh, a group of Class 7 students cluster around a simple experiment. There is no laboratory, no expensive equipment. Instead, there are measuring scales, cardboard cut-outs, water bottles and notebooks dotted with rough calculations. The lesson is not about memorising a formula. It is about understanding why a pulley reduces effort, or how fractions behave when translated into real objects rather than symbols on a blackboard.

For many of these students, this is the first time mathematics and science feel real.

This shift from recitation to experimentation sits at the heart of a growing global consensus: children do not learn science by listening to it. They learn it by doing it.

Across education systems worldwide, STEM has become a policy priority, yet classrooms continue to rely on pedagogies that actively push students away from science and mathematics. India’s challenge is particularly stark. Despite near-universal enrolment at the elementary level, learning outcomes in maths and science in government schools remain low by the time students reach adolescence.

The problem is not curriculum overload alone. It is the way knowledge is delivered.

The global evidence for activity-based learning

Decades of research show that activity-based and inquiry-led learning leads to stronger conceptual understanding than traditional lecture-driven instruction. A landmark meta-analysis published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences found that students in active learning STEM classrooms were significantly less likely to fail than those taught through lectures alone (PNAS, 2014).

Importantly, this evidence is not limited to high-income countries. Studies in low- and middle-income contexts, including research published in World Development and Comparative Education Review, show that hands-on pedagogy improves comprehension and retention even in resource-constrained classrooms. What matters most is not technology or infrastructure, but pedagogy.

This becomes critical during the middle-school years. Between Classes 6 and 8, students encounter abstraction in mathematics and science for the first time. Without conceptual grounding, many disengage permanently. For girls, this disengagement is compounded by social norms, confidence gaps and the absence of visible STEM role models.

UNESCO’s Global Education Monitoring Report (2023) notes that while girls perform on par with boys in science at the primary level, participation drops sharply in adolescence, particularly in rural and low-income settings. The reasons are rarely cognitive. They are structural, social and pedagogical.

India’s learning crisis is not a curriculum crisis

India’s National Education Policy 2020 recognises these issues. It calls for experiential learning, critical thinking and reduced content load. Yet policy intent has struggled to translate into classroom practice.

Teachers in government schools are often expected to deliver ambitious reforms with limited training, overcrowded classrooms and few teaching aids. Annual Status of Education Report (ASER) data repeatedly shows that by Class 8, fewer than half of students can solve basic division or apply foundational scientific reasoning. These are not failures of ability. They are failures of instruction.

Activity-based learning directly addresses this gap. Instead of positioning the teacher as the sole authority, it invites students to test, question and collaborate. Mistakes become part of the learning process rather than a source of shame. This matters deeply in classrooms where fear of being wrong dominates participation.

Why hands-on STEM matters especially for girls

For girls, the stakes are higher. Research published in Nature Human Behaviour and Educational Research Review consistently shows that confidence, rather than competence, is the primary barrier to girls’ continued participation in STEM. Classrooms that reward speed and public correctness tend to silence students who are socialised to avoid visible error.

Activity-based learning shifts this dynamic. Group experiments and problem-solving tasks reduce the psychological distance between girls and STEM subjects. A 2022 review in Educational Research Review found that inquiry-based STEM instruction significantly improved girls’ self-efficacy and interest in science, even when test-score gains were modest.

Over time, these shifts matter. Attitudes shape aspiration, and aspiration shapes persistence.

From pilot projects to system strengthening

Against this backdrop, Smile Foundation’s introduction of a STEM Activity Handbook for Classes 6 to 8 in Siddharthnagar under its education intervention reflects a system-strengthening approach rather than a one-off intervention. Developed in collaboration with the District Education Administration, the handbook helps teachers translate abstract curriculum concepts into hands-on classroom activities using locally available materials.

The emphasis is not on replacing the syllabus, but on reinterpreting it. Each activity aligns with prescribed learning outcomes while offering structured guidance for experimentation, discussion and reflection. This is critical because one of the biggest barriers to pedagogical reform is teacher confidence. Without practical tools, calls for experiential learning remain aspirational.

The handbook also places deliberate emphasis on encouraging girls’ participation in STEM classrooms. By designing activities that reward collaboration, reasoning and curiosity rather than rote recall, it creates space for girls to engage meaningfully with mathematics and science.

Global evidence supports this approach. Research from the OECD and Brookings Institution shows that gender gaps in STEM narrow significantly in classrooms that prioritise inquiry, teamwork and problem-solving over competitive testing.

The formal launch of the handbook by the district’s Basic Education Officer matters not as ceremony, but as signal. When district administrations endorse pedagogical change, it moves activity-based learning from the margins to the mainstream.

Teachers remain central to STEM reform

Activity-based learning does not diminish the role of teachers. It reshapes it. Teachers become facilitators, guides and observers rather than mere transmitters of information.

This transition requires sustained support. Research published in Teaching and Teacher Education shows that successful adoption of inquiry-based pedagogy depends on continuous professional development, peer learning and classroom-ready resources. One-off workshops rarely change practice.

Smile Foundation’s broader education work reflects this insight by embedding teacher support into its interventions. By offering structured tools instead of abstract directives, it reduces the cognitive and logistical burden on teachers already working under pressure.

The danger of getting STEM reform wrong

There is a risk in equating STEM reform with technological fixes alone. Tablets and smartboards, while useful, cannot substitute for conceptual understanding. Without pedagogical change, technology simply digitises rote learning.

Activity-based learning offers a corrective. It reframes STEM education not as early job training, but as the cultivation of curiosity, reasoning and confidence. These capacities matter as much for democratic citizenship as for future employment.

The World Bank’s World Development Report (2018) made this clear: the skills most needed for the future of work are adaptability, problem-solving and the ability to learn continuously. Activity-based learning builds these foundations early.

The transformation of STEM education in India’s government schools will not come from headline-grabbing reforms alone. It will come from quieter shifts in classroom practice that make learning participatory rather than punitive.

The experience in Siddharthnagar offers a glimpse of what is possible when policy intent meets pedagogical realism. A handbook may appear modest in scale, but in classrooms where science has long been reduced to chalk and talk, it can change how students see themselves as learners.

For girls, these changes are especially consequential. When classrooms invite them to experiment, question and lead, futures in STEM become imaginable rather than abstract.

The evidence is clear. Activity-based learning works. The real question is whether India is willing to invest in the slow, relational work required to make it stick. In a system often driven by speed and scale, depth may be the more radical reform.

Categories
Gender

When Girls Learn, Generations Change

In the years following Independence, schooling for girls in India was rarely unconditional. Families often allowed daughters into classrooms as long as education did not interfere with domestic responsibilities, social norms or expectations around marriage. Adolescence frequently marked the end of this fragile arrangement. Puberty, distance to school or household pressure became reasons enough for withdrawal. For many girls, education was not a right but a privilege that could be revoked.

Seven decades later, the country has made undeniable progress. Primary enrolment among girls is now nearly universal. The more difficult challenge, however, lies in retention. It is during adolescence that India continues to lose a large share of its girls from the education system. These exits are rarely abrupt or dramatic. More often, they are quiet and cumulative, shaped by everyday institutional failures rather than singular events.

The reasons girls stop attending school are well documented. Data from the National Family Health Survey shows that adolescent girls who drop out do so largely not to earn wages but to shoulder household responsibilities such as cooking, cleaning and caregiving. Education beyond Class 8 remains inaccessible in much of rural India. Only a small proportion of rural schools offer secondary education, requiring girls to travel long distances, often on foot, along routes families consider unsafe. Transport costs, where available, add another layer of financial strain.

Early marriage remains a decisive factor in several states, particularly Rajasthan, Bihar and Uttar Pradesh. Once married, girls are far less likely to return to school. The loss is permanent, not temporary. This pattern continues despite legal safeguards, highlighting the limits of policy in the absence of supportive social infrastructure.

Another barrier, less visible but equally powerful, is menstruation. Multiple studies show that lack of information, absence of clean and functional toilets, limited access to sanitary products and deep-rooted stigma contribute directly to absenteeism and dropout. An estimated 2.3 crore girls in India are at risk of discontinuing school after menarche. The problem is not biology but design. Schools often fail to accommodate a normal stage of adolescent development, signalling to girls that their bodies are incompatible with public learning spaces.

These pressures intersect with mental health concerns. Adolescent girls, particularly in rural and low-income settings, report higher levels of anxiety, emotional distress and isolation. Yet counselling services and trusted support systems remain scarce within schools. Silence becomes the default response, not because the burden is light, but because it is poorly recognised.

The consequences of girls leaving school extend far beyond individual ambition. Education during adolescence plays a decisive role in shaping long-term outcomes for families and communities.

First, schooling delays premature adult roles. Adolescence is a critical period for cognitive, emotional and social development. The structure of school schedules, examinations and grade progression creates a socially recognised framework that postpones early marriage and full-time caregiving responsibilities. Without this framework, girls are more likely to be absorbed into adult roles before they are prepared for them.

Second, education stabilises households economically. Women who complete secondary and post-secondary education are more likely to access formal employment, earn higher wages and exercise greater control over household resources. Evidence consistently shows that women’s income is more likely to be invested in children’s nutrition, healthcare and education. These benefits compound across generations, creating durable gains in human development.

Third, schools function as sites of supervision and accountability. Attendance records, peer networks and teacher engagement make prolonged absence visible. This visibility is crucial for preventing child labour, early marriage and abuse. When girls leave school, they often exit institutional oversight altogether, making them more vulnerable to exploitation.

Finally, education redistributes power. Schooling equips girls with knowledge of rights, laws and civic institutions. Communities with higher levels of female education show greater participation in local governance, lower tolerance for violence and more equitable social norms. Education does not merely improve economic outcomes. It reshapes expectations about gender, authority and opportunity.

Public policy has rightly focused on expanding access. However, access alone does not guarantee continuity. The next phase of reform must address the conditions under which girls remain in school during adolescence.

This includes ensuring clean, private and functional toilets; consistent access to menstrual hygiene products; age-appropriate health and reproductive education; safe transport or residential facilities where required; and teachers trained to respond with sensitivity rather than silence. It also requires recognising adolescent mental health as integral to educational retention rather than treating it as a separate concern.

Civil society organisations have played an important role in addressing these gaps where public systems struggle to reach consistently. Smile Foundation’s work offers one example of how integrated approaches can improve outcomes. Through its gender and girl child programmes, the organisation combines schooling with health services, nutrition support, menstrual hygiene management, counselling and sustained community engagement. By addressing the reasons girls leave school rather than reacting after dropout occurs, such interventions strengthen retention.

Importantly, these programmes do not focus on girls alone. They work with teachers, parents and boys to normalise conversations around puberty, health and care. When boys are included in discussions around empathy and shared responsibility, classroom cultures shift. Stigma weakens not through instruction alone but through everyday practice.

India’s demographic future depends not simply on enrolling girls in school but on supporting them through adolescence. If schools continue to overlook girls’ safety, health and everyday realities, enrolment gains will continue to erode quietly. When girls learn, generations do change. Not through rhetoric but through systems that make learning possible, dignified and sustained over time.

Categories
Health

From 50 to Forever: What Healthy Ageing Really Means

WHO defines healthy ageing as “the process of developing and maintaining the functional ability that enables wellbeing in older age.” Watch here!

At its core, this definition is not about avoiding illness entirely or defying time. It is about ensuring that as people grow older, they retain the ability to do what they value, live independently and remain connected to the world around them.

Everyone has someone older in their life. For some, that relationship is a joy; for others, it can be more complicated. For older people, as well, it may be difficult to navigate routine tasks and feel dependent. Whether it’s building meaningful relationships, staying socially connected, supporting independence or offering professional care and services, each part plays a vital role in helping people age well. Healthy ageing means keeping your body and mind in shape so you can live life the way you want. Good health allows older people to do the things that matter to them, stay socially involved and continue contributing in various ways that benefit society. Poor health, on the other hand, can limit this involvement. It can also put a heavy strain on families, who may need to care for someone who was once active or may face serious financial pressure from healthcare costs.

Life spans are increasing, but those extra years are not always spent in good health. India is nearing a critical demographic milestone: by 2031, more than 100 million people will be 70 or older. A less obvious and potentially more powerful lever that we have largely overlooked is a clearer, more grounded understanding of what it truly means to age well. It means shaping midlife so later years remain active, independent and meaningful.

Why 50 is the real starting line

The fifties often arrive quietly. Muscle mass begins to decline, recovery from illness or exertion takes longer and small physical losses accumulate gradually. Many people dismiss these changes as inevitable or harmless. At the same time, there has been a worrying rise in coronary artery disease among younger adults, sometimes well before the age of 50. Once considered largely a condition of old age, cardiovascular disease is now appearing earlier, driven by sedentary lifestyles, poor diets, stress and unmanaged metabolic conditions.

This trend is not merely a medical concern but a warning. Habits formed or neglected in midlife tend to shape health trajectories decades later. The fifties represent a critical window in which preventive action can still reverse or slow decline. Physical activity, nutrition, stress management and regular health monitoring adopted at this stage can significantly reduce the risk of disability and dependency in later life. Healthy ageing does not require dramatic interventions, but it does demand intentionality before health consequences become harder to manage.

Healthy ageing means preserving your capacity

Healthy ageing means maintaining your abilities that expand your lifespan. The true sign of ageing gracefully is being able to walk confidently, think clearly, bounce back from illness and handle daily tasks without needing constant help. Too often, we see systems that focus solely on treating diseases, overlooking whether individuals can actually function in their daily lives. 

It also means movement and strength

Healthy ageing starts with movement, that is, incorporating daily activities into your routine. Think about walking instead of driving for short trips, opting for the stairs, carrying your groceries or tending to your garden. These simple actions help maintain your balance, strength and confidence. They keep your joints flexible and your muscles ready to respond. Healthy ageing hinges on physical resilience, particularly muscle strength and balance. Keeping your muscles strong supports metabolic function and also helps prevent falls and speeds up recovery from illness. 

And then there is nutrition as well

Nutrition is a cornerstone of ageing well. As the body ages, its nutritional needs change and deficiencies can have disproportionate effects on strength, immunity and cognition. Diets rich in fruits and vegetables provide essential micronutrients that reduce inflammation and support cellular health. Adequate protein intake is critical for maintaining muscle mass and preventing frailty. Hydration, often overlooked, plays a vital role in circulation, brain function and energy levels.

Conversely, diets high in sugar, salt and saturated fats can gradually undermine resilience. Poor nutrition accelerates muscle loss, weakens bones, worsens metabolic conditions and increases vulnerability to disease. Healthy ageing requires not restrictive eating, but mindful nourishment that supports long-term strength and vitality.

Healthy ageing means undergoing check-ups too

Annual health check-ups are actually the backbone of healthy ageing. Regular tests like blood pressure, blood sugar, vision and hearing help catch issues early, when there’s still time to make simple changes. As we age, many of us end up living with chronic conditions, and that’s completely normal. Healthy ageing means managing conditions like diabetes, arthritis or heart disease in a way that supports your daily life. Poorly managed issues can drain your energy, limit your movement and knock your confidence.

Healthy ageing means connection and engagement

Healthy ageing depends on staying curious and engaged with life. Learning new skills keeps the brain active and builds new neural pathways. Reading, puzzles, learning languages and playing music all help protect thinking, memory, and flexibility. Social connection may be the most underestimated part of healthy ageing. Regular contact with friends, family and community helps ease stress and protect mental health. Clubs, volunteering and shared interests remind us who we are beyond age or illness and offer support, purpose and a sense of belonging.

Conclusion

Living longer is one of humanity’s greatest achievements. Living better is a challenge that requires collective action. Healthy ageing is not solely a personal responsibility; it is shaped by access to healthcare, supportive environments and social attitudes that recognise ageing as a stage of life with potential, not decline.

Ageism is built into our language, behaviours and institutions, often without us even realising it. When we start talking about it openly, we become more aware of how stereotypes damage health, restrict opportunities and reduce quality of life for people of all ages. Changing how we speak, challenging bias when it appears and creating workplaces, schools and services that genuinely value age diversity are small actions that go a long way towards healthy ageing. Living longer is one of humanity’s greatest achievements. Living better is something we need to achieve. 

To enhance the current healthcare framework and minimise personal health expenditures, the ‘Health Cannot Wait’ initiative by Smile Foundation is delivering quality healthcare services directly to at-risk communities. These efforts will significantly encourage individuals to focus on their health both now and as they grow older.

Categories
Smile

Poverty Gains at Risk Due to Climate Hazards 

The year 2013: monsoon did not arrive as expected in Maharashtra. Across almost 7,900 villages, fields cracked under the sun, wells ran dry and crops failed before harvest, leading to the region’s worst drought in 40 years. For thousands of small and marginal farmers, this meant that agriculture would no longer be a source of income but instead a source of debt. In the process, water scarcity deepened in the region weakening food security, eventually leading to disappearing livelihood options for rural poor communities. 

The combination of rising heat, shifting rainfall, floods, droughts and other climate-induced shocks now endangers the livelihoods, food security and wellbeing of the poorest in our country and abroad, especially those whose lives remain tethered to climate-sensitive sectors such as agriculture, water and informal labour. 

Climate-induced poverty is a massive, multidimensional challenge that disproportionately affects women, children and small farmers because they have fewer resources and limited capacity to adapt to climate shocks. In essence, climate poverty reveals that climate change is not merely an ‘environmental crisis’, but a ‘development and justice issue’, where those least responsible for global emissions bear the greatest economic and social costs. 

Evidence from research 

A recent district-level study covering 593 districts across 21 Indian states shows a strong statistical association between climate shocks and poverty. The research finds that variability in maximum temperature, flood-prone areas, drought risk in primary-sector-dependent regions, and erratic precipitation all significantly increase the probability of a district falling into a high-poverty bracket. 

Another 2025 study that links climate exposure to multidimensional poverty reveals that every 1 °C rise in average temperature corresponds to a substantial increase in poverty incidence. This suggests that climate stressors affect more than just income: they also erode health, access to basic services and overall human development. 

Such linkages are not unexpected or new. Households that have been dependent on natural-resource based livelihoods have always been vulnerable to natural variability. But with accelerating climate change, the frequency, intensity and unpredictability of climate hazards are increasing. Moreover, the poorest often have the least capacity to absorb shocks. They lack financial buffers, access to insurance or even alternative livelihoods. When disasters strike repeatedly, say in case of back-to-back droughts or floods, recovery becomes even harder, pushing many households deeper into poverty or making them displaced.

Reversal of poverty reduction 

What this mounting evidence suggests is alarming: the decades of progress in reducing poverty and improving living standards, gains achieved through agricultural growth, rural development, welfare schemes, migration and expanding employment opportunities are under threat. 

The Global Multidimensional Poverty Index (MPI) Report 2025, released by the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) in collaboration with the University of Oxford, underscores how the accelerating climate crisis is reshaping the geography of global poverty. While recent decades have witnessed unprecedented progress in reducing poverty, the report warns that these gains are increasingly fragile in the face of intensifying climate hazards. Of the 6.3 billion people assessed across 109 countries, an estimated 1.1 billion (nearly one in five) continue to live in acute multidimensional poverty. Strikingly, almost 79 per cent of them reside in areas exposed to at least one major climate threat, including extreme heat, drought, flooding or air pollution. 

South Asia emerges as both a story of significant progress and growing vulnerability. In India, the proportion of people living in poverty declined sharply from 55.1 per cent in 2005 to 16.4 per cent in 2021, lifting an estimated 414 million people out of deprivation. Yet the report cautions that without urgent efforts to embed climate resilience into development planning, recurring climate shocks could erode these hard-won advances and push millions back into poverty. 

Extreme heatwaves, for instance, already cost lives and livelihoods. A 2023 report warned that deadly heatwaves could undo progress on poverty, food security and inequality, by affecting crop production, wages and health of small farmers and poor households. In many tribal and drought/flood-prone districts of eastern and central India such as parts of Odisha, Jharkhand, Chhattisgarh, Madhya Pradesh and drought-affected zones in Maharashtra this combination of structural disadvantage and climate stress could aggravate poverty, inequality and social exclusion. 

Towards a climate-resilient poverty alleviation strategy 

Given these risks, policy responses and development strategies must be strengthened and implemented with urgency. A purely economic growth–centred approach is insufficient to address the deep and intersecting challenges posed by climate change. What is needed instead is a climate-sensitive, resilience-oriented framework that integrates poverty alleviation with climate adaptation and social protection. 

This requires increased investment in drought-resistant crops, crop diversification, rainwater harvesting, soil conservation, agro-ecological practices, among others to make agriculture more climate-resilient in contemporary times. It also requires building climate-resilient infrastructure such as reliable water supply systems, irrigation networks, drainage and flood barriers while ensuring proper access to health care, education, and social safety nets that can cushion communities against climate shocks. 

In addition, the government needs to introduce or expand climate-linked social protection schemes, including crop and livestock insurance, unemployment support, disaster relief and targeted assistance for vulnerable households such as smallholders, women-headed families and tribal communities. In a nutshell, it is essential to ‘recognise’ that climate hazards disproportionately affect marginalised groups and to design policies that are equitable, participatory and sensitive to local contexts. 

Unless poverty-alleviation efforts adapt to climate realities, India risks losing not just economic gains but also human development and overall social stability for its people. Therefore, by recognising the interdependence of climate resilience and social development, we can safeguard the progress made over decades. In effect, tackling climate risks and fighting poverty need to be perceived as two sides of the same mission.

The role of civil society: Translating climate risk into resilience on the ground

While macro-level policies and public investments are essential to climate-resilient poverty alleviation, their effectiveness ultimately depends on how they translate into action at the community level.

Operating in drought-prone, flood-affected and agrarian regions across states such as Maharashtra, Odisha, Bihar, Jharkhand, Rajasthan and parts of central India, Smile Foundation’s programmes integrate livelihoods, nutrition, health, education and community resilience—recognising that climate poverty is inherently multidimensional.

In agriculture-dependent communities, the Foundation has supported climate-adaptive livelihood strategies by promoting crop diversification, kitchen and nutrition gardens, water conservation practices and skill-based alternatives to rain-fed farming. These interventions help households reduce dependence on a single, climate-sensitive income source and build buffers against income volatility caused by erratic rainfall or heat stress.

Health and nutrition programmes further address how climate stress exacerbates vulnerability. Extreme heat, water scarcity and food insecurity directly affect maternal health, child nutrition and disease burden. Through mobile health units and community-based nutrition initiatives, Smile Foundation extends preventive care and nutritional support to populations that often lose access during climate-induced disruptions such as droughts or floods. This is particularly relevant for women and children, who are disproportionately affected by climate-related health risks.

Education interventions form another layer of resilience. Climate shocks frequently disrupt schooling through migration, loss of livelihoods or infrastructure damage, increasing the risk of intergenerational poverty. By supporting continuity of learning through remedial education, scholarships and community learning centres, Smile Foundation helps prevent climate-induced dropouts ensuring that environmental shocks do not permanently derail human capital development.

Equally important is the organisation’s focus on community mobilisation and behavioural change. Climate adaptation is not only about infrastructure and technology, but also about awareness, preparedness and local agency. Through sustained engagement with women’s groups, farmers, adolescents and frontline workers, we support communities in understanding climate risks, accessing entitlements and adopting adaptive practices suited to their ecological and socio-economic context.

These ground-level experiences reinforce that climate resilience cannot be delivered through siloed interventions. Poverty alleviation efforts must simultaneously address income security, health, nutrition, education and social protection, especially in climate-exposed regions. Civil society organisations, by virtue of their proximity to communities, are well placed to pilot integrated models that can inform and complement public policy.

Closing bridge

Taken together, this evidence from national datasets to community-level experience underscores that climate change threatens to reverse poverty reduction not through a single shock, but through cumulative, overlapping stresses on livelihoods, health and human development. Safeguarding India’s progress requires that poverty alleviation and climate adaptation be treated not as parallel agendas, but as a unified development imperative.

By aligning public policy, social protection systems and community-led resilience efforts, India can protect its most vulnerable populations from climate-induced impoverishment. Tackling climate risks and fighting poverty are no longer sequential challenges—they are two sides of the same mission, and must be addressed together if development gains are to endure.

Categories
Nutrition

India’s Nutrition Future Must Be Both Scientific and Local

India has largely solved one problem that once defined its development trajectory: the fear of mass hunger. Grain stocks are robust, procurement systems are entrenched and food-based welfare schemes reach millions of households every day. But India continues to rank poorly on nutrition indicators that matter for health, learning and productivity. The paradox is striking. The country is food-secure, but not nutrition-secure.

This contradiction lies at the heart of India’s current nutrition challenge. Hunger today is no longer only about empty stomachs. It is about diets that fill bellies but fail bodies. Micronutrient deficiencies, often described as “hidden hunger”, now coexist with undernutrition and rising obesity, creating what public-health experts call a triple burden of malnutrition.

Addressing this crisis requires moving beyond ideological debates and simplistic solutions. It demands an approach that recognises the value of scientific interventions such as food fortification, while simultaneously rebuilding local food diversity and dietary practices that have sustained Indian communities for generations. The future of India’s health lies not in choosing between the laboratory and the kitchen, but in learning how to use both wisely.

The scale of the India’s nutrition crisis

The data is unequivocal. According to NFHS-5, more than half of women of reproductive age in India are anaemic, as are nearly two-thirds of children under five. These deficiencies have long-term consequences: impaired cognitive development, lower educational attainment, reduced economic productivity and higher maternal and child mortality.

What makes this crisis particularly insidious is that it persists despite widespread calorie availability. Public programmes such as the Public Distribution System and the Mid-Day Meal Scheme have been effective in preventing starvation. But they were never designed to deliver dietary diversity at scale. Cereals dominate plates, while fruits, vegetables, pulses and animal-source foods remain limited, especially among low-income households.

This is not a failure of intent. It is a structural limitation of systems built to address hunger, not nutrition.

Food fortification as a public-health tool

In this context, food fortification has emerged as a pragmatic response. By adding essential micronutrients such as iron, folic acid, iodine and vitamin A to staple foods, fortification seeks to improve nutritional intake without requiring behavioural change.

From a public-health perspective, its appeal is clear. Fortification is scalable, cost-effective and capable of reaching populations that may otherwise be excluded from targeted interventions. International evidence suggests that fortification can significantly reduce anaemia, neural tube defects and iodine deficiency disorders when implemented correctly.

In India, fortified rice, wheat flour, edible oil and salt are increasingly integrated into welfare schemes. For populations with acute deficiencies, fortification acts as a nutritional safety net—one that can be deployed quickly and at scale.

But fortification has limits.

It can correct specific deficiencies, not replace the complex nutritional profile of a diverse diet. It cannot provide dietary fibre, phytochemicals or the full range of micronutrients found in whole foods. Nor can it address the social and behavioural dimensions of eating.

The case for local food diversity

India’s traditional diets evolved over centuries to reflect geography, climate and culture. Millets in semi-arid regions, leafy greens in riverine belts, fermented foods in the Northeast—these were not lifestyle choices but adaptive strategies for survival and health.

The erosion of these food systems has been gradual but profound. Market consolidation, agricultural monocropping, urbanisation and aggressive marketing of ultra-processed foods have narrowed dietary diversity. The result is a nutrition transition that has left low-income communities vulnerable to both deficiency and excess.

Local food diversity is not nostalgia. It is a sustainability strategy. Diets built around seasonal vegetables, pulses, millets and indigenous greens are more resilient to climate shocks, less dependent on global supply chains and nutritionally richer than cereal-heavy or processed diets.

Rebuilding this diversity requires institutional support through schools, Anganwadi centres and community systems that reconnects people with locally available foods and the knowledge to use them.

A false binary in India’s nutrition policy

Public debate often frames fortification and local diets as competing approaches. This is a false binary.

Fortification is most effective as a protective measure—a baseline intervention to prevent severe deficiency. Dietary diversity is the long-term solution for sustainable health. One addresses urgency; the other builds resilience.

The problem arises when fortification is treated as a substitute for food system reform, rather than as a complement. Over-reliance on fortified staples, especially when paired with ultra-processed foods, risks entrenching monotonous diets and undermining local agriculture.

The challenge for policymakers is not to choose sides, but to design nutrition strategies that integrate both approaches without allowing one to crowd out the other.

Lessons from field-based implementation

This balance is best observed at the community level, where civil society organisations working across nutrition, health and education often see that behaviour change, access and trust are as important as nutrient composition.

Smile Foundation’s health and education programmes offer one such example. Operating across multiple states, the Foundation sustains efforts to promote local food consumption through kitchen gardens, nutrition education and community engagement.

In districts where anaemia rates were high, fortified foods provided immediate relief. But long-term improvement was observed only when families began incorporating locally grown vegetables, greens and iron-rich foods into daily meals. Schools that established nutrition gardens not only diversified diets but also improved food literacy among children and caregivers.

The insight here is not about scale, but design. Nutrition interventions work best when they are layered, combining scientific inputs with local food systems and information with access.

The new challenge: ultra-processed diets

Even as undernutrition persists, India faces a growing problem of over-nutrition. Ultra-processed foods, often fortified but high in sugar, salt and unhealthy fats, are increasingly common in urban and semi-urban diets.

This creates a perverse situation where a child can be both overweight and micronutrient-deficient. Fortification alone cannot resolve this contradiction. Without parallel efforts to promote whole foods and regulate unhealthy diets, nutrition policy risks addressing symptoms while deepening causes.

From food security to nutrition security

India’s next nutrition transition must therefore move beyond food security to nutrition security. This means rethinking how welfare schemes, agriculture, education and health systems interact.

Fortify where necessary. Diversify wherever possible. Protect vulnerable populations today, while rebuilding food systems for tomorrow.

A more grounded way forward

As climate change, urbanisation and economic inequality reshape India’s food landscape, the choices made today will determine whether the country improves health outcomes or locks itself into a cycle of nutritional inadequacy.

The path forward lies in recognising diversity as strength—not inefficiency—and science as ally, not replacement. Nutrition policy must resist one-size-fits-all solutions and instead build layered strategies that respond to both urgency and sustainability.

India does not need to choose between fortified rice and backyard greens. It needs both. The task is to ensure that neither becomes an excuse for neglecting the other.

Only then can the country move from feeding its population to nourishing it.

Categories
Education

Why Scholarships Alone Do Not Guarantee Educational Mobility

In India’s education discourse, scholarships are often spoken of with a sense of finality. Fees paid, barriers removed and futures unlocked. The assumption is neat and reassuring: that once financial access is secured, merit and effort will do the rest. But the evidence from classrooms, campuses and hostels across the country suggests otherwise. For a large proportion of first-generation learners, scholarships are not a bridge to opportunity so much as an incomplete map—useful, but insufficient to navigate unfamiliar terrain.

This gap between intent and outcome deserves closer attention, especially as India expands its scholarship architecture in pursuit of higher enrolment, equity and social mobility.

Access is not the same as capability

India has made measurable progress in widening access to education. Enrolment rates at the secondary and higher education levels have improved, and public and private scholarship schemes now reach millions of students. However, access alone does not translate into success. Dropout rates among first-generation learners remain stubbornly high, particularly at transition points—after Class 8, after Class 10 and during the first year of college.

The reason lies not in a lack of aspiration, but in a mismatch between what scholarships cover and what students actually need. Fees are only one component of educational participation. Equally critical are academic preparedness, language confidence, institutional navigation, mental well-being and a sense of belonging—factors that rarely appear in financial ledgers but decisively shape outcomes.

Economists have long argued that education should be viewed not as an input, but as a capability. Without the conditions that allow students to convert access into achievement, scholarships risk becoming symbolic gestures rather than engines of mobility.

The invisible barriers first-generation learners face

For students whose parents have never completed formal education, entry into secondary school or college is often accompanied by profound uncertainty. Administrative processes—forms, deadlines, documentation—can become obstacles in themselves. Academic culture, particularly in English-medium institutions, demands linguistic and social fluency that many students have not had the chance to develop.

Beyond the classroom, family pressures exert a constant pull. Economic precarity means that education competes with the immediate need to earn. Girls, in particular, face additional constraints: household responsibilities, concerns around safety, early marriage and the persistent undervaluing of their education.

Mental health stressors compound these challenges. Feelings of inadequacy, isolation and fear of failure are common among scholarship recipients who find themselves in environments far removed from their social realities. When these pressures go unaddressed, financial support alone cannot prevent attrition.

What the data quietly tells us

National surveys and independent studies increasingly point to this pattern. Research on higher education retention shows that students from marginalised backgrounds are more likely to drop out despite receiving financial aid. International evidence mirrors this finding: scholarships that combine monetary assistance with mentoring, academic support and psychosocial care consistently outperform those that do not.

In India, however, evaluation frameworks continue to prioritise disbursement over outcomes. Success is measured in terms of funds allocated or beneficiaries reached, rather than retention, completion or post-education trajectories. This narrow accounting obscures the role of non-financial support in determining whether scholarships fulfil their purpose.

Scholarships as systems, not transactions

Reframing scholarships as systems rather than transactions changes the policy conversation. It shifts the focus from how much money is given to how support is structured around the learner.

Non-financial interventions that matter include:

  • Academic mentoring to address learning gaps and build confidence
  • Language and communication support, especially in English-dominant institutions
  • Psychosocial counselling to manage stress, identity conflict and anxiety
  • Peer networks that reduce isolation and foster belonging
  • Family engagement, particularly for girls, to sustain consent for continued education
  • Institutional hand-holding to navigate examinations, internships and placements

These elements are not add-ons. They are integral to the conversion of access into capability.

The cost of ignoring non-financial support

When scholarship design overlooks these dimensions, the consequences are predictable. Students disengage quietly, often without formal withdrawal. Institutions interpret dropout as lack of merit or motivation. Policymakers respond by tweaking eligibility criteria or increasing allocations, without addressing the underlying causes.

The result is a cycle of partial success. Scholarships expand enrolment at the front end but fail to deliver mobility at the back end. For a country seeking to harness its demographic dividend, this is a costly inefficiency.

Learning from integrated models

Civil society organisations working at the grassroots have long recognised these gaps. Their experience suggests that sustained engagement, rather than one-time support, is what enables students to persist.

Smile Foundation’s education programmes illustrate this approach. Under its Mission Education initiative, scholarships are embedded within a broader framework that includes remedial learning, mentoring, health support and community engagement. This integrated model recognises that educational disadvantage is rarely singular. Addressing it requires attention to the social and emotional contexts in which learning occurs.

For adolescent girls, in particular, the Foundation’s interventions combine academic support with life skills, health awareness and family counselling. These measures help sustain participation during the years when dropout risks are highest. Crucially, the focus is not merely on keeping students enrolled, but on enabling them to imagine and plan for futures that education can realistically support.

Implications for policy and CSR

As India’s corporate sector increases its investment in education through CSR, the design of scholarship programmes warrants careful reconsideration. Too often, CSR-led scholarships mirror public schemes in focusing narrowly on financial assistance, driven by the imperatives of scale and reporting simplicity.

There is an opportunity here to do better. CSR initiatives, less constrained by bureaucratic rigidity, can pioneer models that integrate mentoring, academic support and mental health services into scholarship design. These models can generate evidence that informs public policy, demonstrating that non-financial support is not a luxury but a necessity.

From generosity to effectiveness

India’s commitment to educational equity is evident in the proliferation of scholarship schemes. What remains uncertain is whether this commitment will mature from generosity to effectiveness.

Ensuring that scholarships succeed requires acknowledging an uncomfortable truth: that financial aid, while essential, cannot compensate for structural disadvantage on its own. The real work lies in building ecosystems of support that accompany students through the long and uneven journey of education.

This is not an argument for reducing scholarships but one for completing them.

A more honest measure of success

If India is serious about using education as a tool for social mobility, it must ask harder questions of its scholarship programmes. Not how many students were funded, but how many graduated with skills. Not how much money was spent, but what capabilities were built. Not how many forms were processed, but how many lives were meaningfully transformed.

The answers to these questions will depend less on budgets than on design. Scholarships that recognise the full spectrum of barriers faced by first-generation learners stand a far better chance of delivering on their promise.

The rest, however well-intentioned, risk remaining unfinished bridges.

Categories
In The Spotlight Insights

India’s Mental Health Helplines — Overwhelmed and Under-used

India today finds itself in a paradox. At a time when mental health helplines are ringing incessantly, a significant proportion of those who need psychological support still do not reach out. The country’s expanding network of crisis lines, including flagship initiatives such as Tele MANAS, has undoubtedly increased visibility and access. But the demand-supply mismatch remains stark. Calls spike during crises, helplines report long waiting times and counsellors are stretched thin. At the same time, millions experiencing distress never pick up the phone.

This contradiction demands closer scrutiny. If helplines are central to India’s mental health strategy, understanding why they are overwhelmed but under-used is essential to building a system that works beyond moments of emergency.

The rise of helplines as first responders

Mental health helplines have emerged as one of the most visible tools in India’s public health response. Their appeal is clear. They are relatively inexpensive to scale, can be accessed remotely and offer anonymity in a society where stigma around mental illness remains deeply entrenched. The COVID-19 pandemic accelerated this model. Lockdowns disrupted in-person care, while anxiety, grief and uncertainty surged. Helplines became, for many, the only accessible point of contact.

Tele MANAS, launched in 2022 and expanded nationwide, represents the most ambitious iteration of this approach. It integrates mental health support into India’s digital public infrastructure, offering multilingual counselling across states. Several states and non-governmental organisations have also strengthened their own helpline models, particularly for children, adolescents and women.

But visibility has not translated into universal use.

Overwhelmed systems, uneven demand

Helpline operators report recurring patterns. Calls surge during examination seasons, heatwaves, disasters or highly publicised suicides. In these periods, waiting times increase, counsellors face emotional fatigue, and follow-up becomes difficult. However, outside crisis windows, call volumes often plateau or drop, even as surveys suggest high levels of untreated distress.

This is not just a staffing issue. It points to structural gaps in how helplines are designed, perceived and integrated into the broader mental health ecosystem.

One key challenge is that helplines are often positioned as crisis services rather than preventive or supportive resources. Many callers reach out only when distress has escalated to breaking point. Early signs of anxiety, depression or burnout are frequently normalised or dismissed, particularly in households where emotional vulnerability is still seen as weakness.

Awareness without trust

Awareness campaigns have ensured that most urban Indians have heard of mental health helplines. But awareness does not automatically build trust.

For many potential users, especially in rural and low-income settings, uncertainty persists about who is on the other end of the line, whether conversations are confidential, and whether the advice offered will be relevant to their realities. Language barriers compound the problem. While national helplines offer multiple languages, local dialects and cultural nuance often fall through the cracks.

There is also a gendered dimension. Women, particularly young women, may hesitate to seek help over the phone due to privacy concerns in crowded homes. Men, socialised to suppress vulnerability, are less likely to call unless distress becomes unmanageable. Adolescents often fear parental discovery or judgement, even when confidentiality is assured.

The follow-up gap

Perhaps the most significant limitation of India’s helpline model lies in what happens after the call ends.

Mental health, unlike many acute health conditions, requires continuity of care. A single conversation can provide temporary relief, but sustained recovery often depends on follow-up counselling, referrals and support in navigating social stressors such as family conflict, academic pressure or unemployment.

Helplines struggle here. Counsellors may provide referrals to public hospitals or local services, but these systems are themselves overburdened. In many districts, there are few trained mental health professionals, and waiting periods can stretch into months. For callers from marginalised communities, the gap between being advised to seek help and actually accessing it can be insurmountable.

Under-use among those most at risk

Ironically, those who could benefit most from helplines are often the least likely to use them. Migrant workers, informal labourers, adolescents in government schools and women in low-resource settings face intersecting barriers of stigma, access and awareness.

Mental health distress in these communities is frequently rooted in structural issues like poverty, housing insecurity, displacement, domestic violence or educational disruption. A helpline that addresses distress in isolation, without acknowledging these contexts, may feel inadequate or irrelevant.

This disconnect explains why helplines are often overwhelmed by repeat callers in urban centres while remaining under-used in regions with high vulnerability but low digital access or trust in institutions.

Helplines cannot carry the system alone

The current discourse risks placing disproportionate expectations on helplines. They are increasingly treated as the frontline, and sometimes the only visible response, to India’s mental health crisis. This is neither fair nor sustainable.

Helplines are most effective when embedded within a continuum of care that includes community outreach, school-based mental health programmes, primary healthcare integration, and social support systems. Without these linkages, helplines become pressure valves rather than pathways to recovery.

The experience of recent years suggests that India’s mental health strategy needs to move beyond reactive listening models to proactive, community-rooted approaches.

Learning from community-based models

Civil society organisations have long recognised the limits of stand-alone helplines. Many operate blended models that combine remote support with on-ground engagement, particularly in underserved areas.

Smile Foundation’s work offers relevant insights. Through its education programmes, the Foundation integrates mental health awareness into routine community interactions rather than isolating it as a specialised service. School-based interventions and community outreach enable early identification of distress among children and adolescents.

Importantly, the programme addresses mental health alongside nutrition, education and livelihood support, recognising that psychological well-being cannot be separated from material conditions. For adolescents, particularly girls, this integrated approach helps reduce stigma and encourages help-seeking before distress escalates.

By working through trusted community networks like teachers, healthcare workers, women’s groups, Smile Foundation’s model demonstrates how mental health support can be normalised rather than exceptionalised.

Rethinking the role of helplines

India does not need fewer helplines. It needs smarter ones.

First, helplines must be repositioned not merely as crisis response tools but as entry points into a broader care ecosystem. This requires stronger referral systems, better coordination with primary healthcare and investment in follow-up mechanisms.

Second, counsellor capacity must be expanded and protected. Emotional labour, high call volumes and exposure to trauma take a toll on those providing support. Burnout among helpline workers undermines service quality and continuity.

Third, outreach must be targeted. Generic awareness campaigns are insufficient. Messaging needs to be tailored to specific groups like students, workers, women, rural communities, using trusted intermediaries rather than relying solely on digital visibility.

Finally, data transparency matters. Regular public reporting on call volumes, response times, referral outcomes and regional disparities would allow for course correction and accountability.

A necessary but incomplete solution

Mental health helplines reflect both India’s progress and its constraints. They signal a welcome recognition that mental health deserves public attention and institutional support. But they also expose the limits of a system that leans heavily on emergency response while underinvesting in prevention and continuity.

If India is serious about addressing its mental health burden, helplines must be part of a layered strategy, supported by schools, communities, healthcare systems and civil society organisations working in concert.

The phone should not be the last resort. It should be the first step in a journey that does not end when the call disconnects.

Categories
Livelihood Skill Development

Why Reskilling Is India’s New Social Contract

For decades, India’s labour conversation revolved around a single promise: job security. A stable role, protected by law, was the ultimate marker of economic dignity. But, almost without ceremony, that promise has begun to change.

India is no longer guaranteeing jobs. It is promising something else instead: the ability to move, adapt and reskill.

At the centre of this shift lies the Worker Re-skilling Fund, introduced under the Industrial Relations Code, 2020 and brought into sharper focus as India’s new labour codes took effect in late 2025. On paper, the fund appears modest. Employers are required to deposit the equivalent of 15 days’ wages for every retrenched worker, transferred directly to the worker. But its significance is not financial but philosophical.

For the first time, Indian labour law formally acknowledges a reality long felt but rarely stated outright: that jobs will disappear, roles will change and what needs protection is not the job itself, but the worker’s capacity to transition.

A labour market under pressure

This policy shift is unfolding against a stark backdrop. Automation, artificial intelligence and platform-based work are reshaping employment across sectors. Estimates suggest that nearly one in five Indian jobs faces a high risk of automation by 2030, while close to nine crore workers may need some form of reskilling in the coming years.

These changes are no longer confined to factories or IT services. Retail, logistics, customer support, construction and even parts of healthcare are being reconfigured. Mid-skill roles, once considered stable stepping stones into the middle class, are increasingly vulnerable.

India’s labour market, young and vast, cannot rely on the old assumption that education ends with a degree or that a single skill will carry someone through a lifetime of work. The Worker Re-skilling Fund signals an official recognition of this shift.

From compensation to capability

Traditionally, retrenchment in India was treated as an endpoint. Severance pay compensated loss, but offered little support for what came next. Training, where it existed, was fragmented, optional and often disconnected from real labour demand.

The Worker Re-skilling Fund reframes retrenchment as a transition point rather than a dead end. It nudges employers, government and workers into a shared responsibility model, where continuous learning is not a personal luxury but a systemic obligation.

This aligns India, belatedly but decisively, with a global rethink of labour protection. Across economies grappling with automation, the focus is shifting from preserving roles to preserving employability.

Lifelong learning, written into law

What makes the Worker Re-skilling Fund distinctive is not its scale, but its symbolism. It is India’s first legal commitment to the idea of lifelong learning.

This matters because learning in India has historically been front-loaded. Formal education is concentrated in the early years, after which skill development becomes ad hoc, employer-driven or self-financed. Workers who fall behind often do so permanently.

By embedding reskilling within labour law, India is signalling that employability must be maintained across a working life, not just at entry. The challenge, of course, lies in execution.

A fund alone does not create skills. Without alignment to credible training platforms, quality standards and placement outcomes, reskilling risks becoming another short-term payout rather than a pathway to mobility.

The ecosystem problem

Experts across staffing, academia and training agree on one thing: the success of India’s reskilling push depends on ecosystem coordination.

Training must be aligned with real demand, not abstract certification. Courses need to be modular, stackable and accessible to workers who cannot afford to stop earning. Digital platforms like Skill India Digital and nationally aligned frameworks such as NSQF and NCrF offer the infrastructure but it is not the same as impact.

There is also the question of quality. As reskilling becomes a legal entitlement, the risk of low-quality training providers entering the system grows. Without strong accreditation and outcome tracking, the promise of reskilling could erode trust rather than build it.

The gig worker moment

Perhaps the most consequential aspect of India’s labour reforms is the formal recognition of gig and platform workers. By 2030, this segment could include over two crore workers, many of them young, mobile and operating outside traditional employer–employee relationships.

For gig workers, reskilling cannot follow conventional classroom models. It must be flexible, short-cycle and tightly linked to adjacent opportunities. A delivery partner today might need to become an EV maintenance technician tomorrow or a warehouse supervisor the year after.

Micro-credentials, recognition of prior learning, and “earn while you learn” models are no longer experimental ideas. They are necessities in a labour market defined by churn.

Where reskilling meets social reality

Even the most sophisticated skilling frameworks risk overlooking a critical factor: inequality.

Reskilling is easier for workers who are already secure, those with savings, digital access and social capital. For informal workers, first-generation earners, women returning to the workforce or those in low-resource communities, the barriers are higher.

Time, not motivation, is often the constraint. So is health, childcare and access to reliable information. Any reskilling agenda that ignores these realities risks deepening, rather than narrowing, labour market divides.

The role of civil society

This is where civil society organisations play an essential, often under-recognised role. While government systems create scale and structure, community-based organisations translate policy into lived pathways.

Smile Foundation’s work offers one such example. Through its education, health and livelihood programmes, we engage precisely with populations for whom reskilling is not an abstract future challenge, but a present survival strategy.

Our livelihood initiatives focus on skill-building that is locally relevant and linked to actual employment opportunities, particularly for youth and women from underserved communities. Importantly, these programmes are embedded within a broader ecosystem of support of healthcare access, nutrition, digital literacy and community mobilisation, without which skilling alone would falter.

For women, especially, reskilling is inseparable from empowerment. Smile Foundation’s Swabhiman programme addresses this intersection by combining livelihood training with financial literacy, health awareness and social support. When women are healthier, informed and economically active, skill acquisition translates into sustained participation rather than short-term certification.

A new definition of security

What India is witnessing is not only a labour reform, but a renegotiation of social expectations. Security is no longer defined by permanence, but by adaptability. Stability no longer comes from holding onto a single role, but from the ability to move across roles with dignity.

This shift is unsettling. It demands more from workers, employers and the state alike. It also demands honesty. Reskilling cannot be sold as a panacea. Not every transition will be smooth, and not every worker will benefit equally without targeted support.

But the alternative of clinging to the illusion of static jobs in a dynamic economy is far riskier.

The road ahead

For the Worker Re-skilling Fund to fulfil its promise, three conditions must be met.

First, reskilling must be demand-led, with employers actively shaping curricula and committing to placement outcomes.

Second, quality assurance must be non-negotiable. Training that does not lead to better work is not reskilling, it is delay.

Third, inclusion must be intentional. Women, informal workers and first-generation earners need tailored pathways, not generic solutions.

India has taken an important first step by writing reskilling into law. Whether this becomes a meaningful social contract or another under-utilised policy instrument will depend on how seriously the ecosystem treats learning as a lifelong right.

If done well, the shift from job security to skill security could be one of the most consequential labour reforms of this generation. If done poorly, it risks becoming another promise that sounded transformative on paper, but faltered on the ground.

The choice, as ever, lies not in legislation alone, but in how India chooses to implement, invest and include.

Categories
Education

Four Education Laws of 2025, One Persistent Question

In 2025, education returned to the legislative foreground. Four laws — the Viksit Bharat Shiksha Adhishthan Bill, 2025, the Delhi School Education Act, 2025, the Rajasthan Coaching Centres (Control and Regulation) Act, 2025 and the Indian Institutes of Management (Amendment) Bill, 2025 — were framed as correctives to long-standing distortions in India’s education system. Together, they addressed higher education regulation, school fee transparency, the unregulated coaching economy and governance in elite institutions.

Taken individually, each law responds to a real problem. Taken together, they reveal something more consequential: a reform imagination still rooted in governance, compliance and institutional control, while the everyday determinants of learning — attendance, foundational skills, teacher capacity, gendered barriers — remain largely outside the legislative frame.

The question, therefore, is not whether these laws were necessary. It is whether they are sufficient.

Viksit Bharat Shiksha Adhishthan Bill, 2025: Order in a fragmented system

The most ambitious of the four, the Viksit Bharat Shiksha Adhishthan Bill, 2025, proposes a unified higher education regulator, subsuming existing bodies such as the UGC and AICTE. The intent is to reduce regulatory overlap, improve quality assurance and align institutions with national development priorities.

For decades, India’s higher education sector has suffered from incoherence. Multiple regulators, inconsistent standards and procedural rigidity have diluted accountability. In that sense, consolidation is a logical step, and one that aligns with the National Education Policy (NEP) 2020’s call for a streamlined regulatory architecture.

However, the Bill also raises familiar concerns. Centralisation, while efficient on paper, risks weakening institutional diversity if not accompanied by capacity-building. Autonomy granted in a vacuum often benefits institutions that are already well-resourced, while those serving disadvantaged populations struggle to comply with new benchmarks.

Crucially, the Bill’s impact on school education — where India’s learning crisis is most acute — is indirect. Weak higher education governance affects teacher training, curriculum design and research, but these are long-gestation reforms. They do little to address the immediate reality that millions of children are in school but not learning at grade level.

Delhi School Education Act, 2025: Transparency without transformation

The Delhi School Education Act, 2025, which focuses on transparency in the fixation and regulation of school fees, responds to growing public frustration over arbitrary fee hikes in private schools. By mandating disclosure and regulatory oversight, the law seeks to rebalance power between schools and parents.

In a city where families increasingly turn to private schools due to perceptions of better quality, fee regulation is politically salient.

The deeper problem lies in persistent distrust in government schools. Without parallel investments in public education — particularly in teacher support, infrastructure maintenance and learning outcomes — fee regulation risks treating symptoms rather than causes.

There is also the matter of low-fee private schools, which serve a significant number of first-generation learners. These schools operate on thin margins and often fill gaps left by the state. Regulatory compliance, without financial or technical support, may inadvertently shrink options for families already navigating constrained choices.

Rajasthan Coaching Centres (Control and Regulation) Act, 2025: A response to systemic failure

The Rajasthan Coaching Centres (Control and Regulation) Act, 2025, is perhaps the most candid acknowledgment of institutional failure. By regulating coaching centres, the State concedes what students and parents have long known: formal education systems are no longer trusted to prepare learners for competitive examinations.

The coaching industry did not grow in isolation. It expanded in response to curriculum–assessment mismatches, overcrowded classrooms and high-stakes examinations that reward rote mastery over conceptual understanding. Regulation — licensing, welfare norms and student safeguards — is overdue.

But regulation alone cannot dismantle the parallel system coaching has become. Unless school and university curricula are aligned with assessment systems, and unless mental health support is integrated into secondary education, coaching will remain a structural necessity rather than a supplement.

The law addresses exploitation, but not anxiety. It recognises risk, but not the pedagogical void that fuels demand.

Indian Institutes of Management (Amendment) Bill, 2025: Autonomy at the apex

The Indian Institutes of Management (Amendment) Bill, 2025, strengthens autonomy and revises governance structures in India’s most prestigious management institutions. The rationale is competitiveness: flexibility in appointments, curriculum design and global collaboration.

For elite institutions, autonomy can indeed enable innovation. But in a deeply unequal education system, autonomy at the top does little to address bottlenecks below. IIMs serve a minuscule fraction of India’s student population. Their success does not compensate for foundational learning deficits or access barriers elsewhere.

The Bill highlights a persistent asymmetry in reform: freedom for institutions that already function well, constraint for those grappling with basic capacity issues.

What these education laws reveal — and what they omit

Viewed together, the four laws reflect a consistent approach: education reform through regulation, governance and institutional restructuring. These are necessary levers, but they operate at a distance from the everyday realities of learning.

What remains largely absent from legislative focus are issues repeatedly flagged by data and field experience: foundational literacy and numeracy, chronic absenteeism, nutrition, mental health and the emotional labour of teachers.

ASER data continues to show that a significant proportion of children in upper primary grades struggle with basic reading and arithmetic. Attendance disruptions — driven by migration, unpaid care work, menstrual health challenges and climate events — compound learning loss, particularly for adolescent girls.

None of these feature prominently in the legal imagination of reform.

Where civil society bridges the gap

This is where civil society organisations offer a reality check. Working at the intersection of households, schools and communities, they encounter the limits of policy long before they appear in official reviews.

Smile Foundation’s Mission Education programme illustrates this gap between legislation and lived experience. Working with first-generation learners in urban slums and rural areas, the programme prioritises remedial education, small-group instruction and parental engagement — interventions that stabilise learning conditions rather than merely expanding access.

Learning improves not because of regulatory clarity, but because children are fed, healthy and emotionally supported. Attendance stabilises when healthcare and nutrition are integrated with schooling. Girls remain in school longer when household stress is reduced and mothers have access to livelihoods and healthcare, as seen through Smile Foundation’s Swabhiman programme.

These are not peripheral concerns but foundational.

Reform needs convergence, not compartments

The four laws treat higher education, school fees, coaching centres and elite institutions as discrete policy domains. Children experience them as a continuum.

A first-generation learner navigating an under-resourced primary school, a high-pressure secondary system and an expensive coaching market does not encounter separate reforms. She encounters one system — fragmented, unequal and demanding adaptation at every stage.

For reform to be meaningful, legislation must converge with investments in teacher support, child well-being and community engagement. Without this, governance reform risks remaining procedural rather than transformative.

Reform as unfinished work

The education laws of 2025 signal seriousness of intent. They acknowledge long-standing distortions and attempt to restore accountability. But they also expose the limits of reform that remains distant from classrooms.

Until legislation engages directly with the conditions that shape learning — poverty, gender norms, health, teacher capacity — the gap between policy intent and classroom reality will persist.

Civil society experience, including the work of organisations like Smile Foundation, demonstrates that change is possible when reform is grounded in lived realities. The task ahead is not merely to legislate better, but to ensure that laws enable learning where it matters most — in the daily lives of children and teachers.

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