UGC: India’s Higher Education Needs More Than Symbolic Equity-Driven Measures

Sadiya Hartman, one of the leading scholars of Black studies, in her seminal work Innocent Amusements: The Stage of Sufferance, writes, “We are naturally too callous to the sufferings of others, and consequently prone to look upon them with cold indifference, until in imagination we identify ourselves with sufferers and make their sufferings our own”.

The recently enacted University Grants Commission (Promotion of Equity in Higher Education Institutions) Regulations, 2026, reveal the dichotomy of debate on equality in Indian higher education. Rather than discussing the framework for anti-discrimination in higher education, the discourse on the regulation has shifted to misplaced concern over the rights of the dominant castes. The regulations are projected as a danger to upper-caste students through the usual rhetoric of a threat to merit.

Legal challenges have already reached the Supreme Court, seeking to stall their implementation. However, these objections reveal a deeper problem: while the regulations themselves are symbolically significant, they lack the structural teeth necessary to combat the institutionalised form of caste discrimination.

Before analysing the resistance to these regulations, it is essential to understand their origin. These measures do not originate from bureaucratic or political innovation. Rather, they are a result of the sustained grief and struggle of the marginalised to claim public institutions as their own.

Following the petition filed by the mothers of Rohith Vemula and Payal Tadvi (Abeda Salim Tadvi & Anr. v. Union of India & Ors., (W.P. (C) No. 1149/2019), the Supreme Court issued directions to review the existing policies for promoting equity in higher educational institutions, which is the root of the current regulation. 

Justice Pardiwala and Justice Mahadevan, writing for the court in another case of Amit Kumar, did not merely acknowledge discrimination as an aberration but acknowledged its structural presence. 

The Court observed, “Affirmative action cannot stop at merely ensuring their entry into higher education. It must also reflect in the creation of adequate support systems which ameliorate instead of exacerbate existing inequities.” 

This recognition is significant; it moves beyond formal equality to substantive equality, acknowledging that access without support is not inclusion but abandonment. 

Everyday reality of discrimination in higher education institutions

In higher educational institutions in India, the abandonment of marginalised students happens in various visible and invisible ways. Every day, casteism in the classroom camouflages itself in the language of standards, performance, neutrality, and, above all, merit. Anurag Bhaskar, a public law scholar, has argued that discrimination in the institutions has taken a subtle and indirect form, impacting the physical and psychological well-being of Dalit & Adivasi students. 

The data from parliament reveals that 13,500 students have dropped out of the top educational institutions, such as IITs, NITs, IIMs, Central Universities, etc. Even more shocking is the representation of faculty at top-tier institutions. Study shows that even in the top five IITs, 98% of the faculty are upper castes, revealing that affirmative action in these institutions has not applied with due care. 

A response in the Lok Sabha notes that only 4% of professors in 45 central universities are OBCs. Furthermore, being directives prioritising scholarship disbursement and preventing drop-outs, the implementation remains negligent. Thus, in this sense, caste has rediscovered itself, much as racism did in the West. Contemporary racism often avoids direct reference to race and instead relies on discourses of culture, migration, crime or competence. Caste in India follows a similar path. 

It survives less through formal exclusion and more through institutional design and the rhetoric of efficiency. The reading of these statistics reveals what Professor N. Sukumar argues that the educational institutions are deficient in fraternal ecologies of knowledge, where diverse students can genuinely belong and thrive.

Why the regulation lacks teeth 

The 2026 regulations represent a symbolic step forward, but misses the critical institutional framework to prevent and address this. The 2026 regulations do introduce some improvements over the 2012 framework: expanded protected categories (now including race, place of birth, third gender), faster timelines for complaint resolution (from 60 days to approximately 22 days), mandatory police involvement where penal offences exist, a national-level monitoring committee, and required transparency measures including bi-annual public reports on dropout data and demographics. 

Contrary to what critics claim, the regulation, also in its objective, identifies the Economic Weaker Section as one of the protected categories. However, a careful reading of the Supreme Court judgement in the case of Amit Kumar & Ors. v. Union of India & Ors. (2026 INSC 62), in conjunction with the UGC regulations, reveals that the measures are inadequate. 

Under the regulations, all the institutions are required to create an inclusive and safe campus, it also have a duty to take preventive as well as corrective action against discrimination. This mandates the establishment of an Equal Opportunity Centre and Equal Opportunity Committees, which are supposed to operate a 24×7 Equity Helpline. Further, they are to follow a strict complaint redressal process with fixed timelines. The head of the institution is responsible for their implementation. 

The UGC will monitor implementation and can impose serious penalties for non-compliance, including withdrawal of recognition or funding. 

These regulations suffer from serious legal and structural shortcomings:

1. Definitional ambiguity: The regulation fails to clearly define “Higher Education Institutions”, leaving uncertainty about the scope of their application. This institution would allow institutions to evade accountability. 
2. Dilution of the Standard of Discrimination: In a significant regression from the 2012 regulations, which enumerated 28 specific forms of discrimination, which inter alia include verbal violence, hostel segregation, etc, the 2026 regulations delegate the power to define what constitutes discrimination to equity committees. This move from specificity to vagueness undermines legal certainty and allows institutions discretion to narrow the scope of actionable discrimination. By leaving the definition open-ended, the regulations risk inconsistent application across institutions. 
3. Structural conflict of interest: The most troubling is the inherent conflict of interest in the composition of equity committees. These committees, chaired by the Vice-Chancellor/Principal (5(6)of the regulation), are empowered both to investigate cases of discrimination and to adjudicate them. This concentration of power in the hands of institutional leadership the very leadership often implicated in perpetuating or tolerating discriminatory practices undermines the independence and credibility of the redressal mechanism. As Professor N. Sukumar's research in Caste Discrimination and Exclusion in Indian Universities: A Critical Reflection reveals, in some universities, Equal Opportunity Cells are merged with SC/ST cells, giving institutions leverage to protect perpetrators. The Supreme Court itself noted in the para 21 of the judgement regarding such bodies including Internal Complaints Committees: "Though these bodies may find existence in several institutions, they lack independence and often work to favour the perpetrators or aggressors rather than the students for whom they were created. Cases are suppressed, and proceedings are often biased." 
4. Lack of binding authority: The regulations don't define the powers or binding nature of committee decisions. They do not clarify whether committee findings are binding, advisory, or interim, creating ambiguity about enforceability. 
5. Failure to criminalise discrimination: Despite longstanding demands from marginalised communities and student activists, the 2026 regulations treat caste-based discrimination purely as a matter for civil remedy. This stands in stark contrast to the treatment of ragging, which has been criminalised under the law. The refusal to recognize caste-based discrimination as a criminal offence sends a message that such discrimination is less serious than ragging, despite often having equally or more devastating consequences, as evidenced by the institutional failures that led to the deaths of Rohith Vemula and Payal Tadvi. Civil remedies alone cannot adequately deter discrimination or reflect its severity. 
6. No Guidance on Everyday Discrimination: The regulations provide no guidance on how equity is to be achieved in classrooms, evaluations, supervisions, or mentorships, precisely where caste affinity and caste preference manifest in indirect forms.
7. Financial Support Ignored: The regulations do not adequately address scholarship disbursement and financial support, despite the Supreme Court's clear recognition that financial stress and delayed scholarships are central to exclusion and inequality in higher education. This omission contradicts binding judicial directions. 
8. Weak Enforcement: Although penalties exist for non-compliance, there is no mechanism to correct institutional failures in practice. The regulations remain largely declaratory and fall short of fulfilling the UGC's duty to ensure substantive equity in higher education. 

Where we stand

The discourse surrounding the 2026 regulations reveals two simultaneous failures. First, dominant-caste opposition frames these modest measures as threats to merit and fairness, deploying the usual politics of victimhood that masks ongoing violence and exclusion. This response, borrowing from Hartman, demonstrates ‘callous indifference’ to structural discrimination. Second, the regulations refuse to treat caste-based discrimination with the seriousness accorded to ragging. 

Most critically, they leave untouched the fundamental ways caste operates in higher education through curricular choices, pedagogical approaches, mentorship patterns, and the composition of faculty itself. The challenge, therefore, is not simply to defend inadequate regulations against bad-faith opposition, but to demand measures truly capable of dismantling caste in Indian higher education. 

Rajesh Ranjan is a Chevening scholar based in London. Deepak Kumar Meena is a law student in Raipur. The authors acknowledge advocate Disha Wadekar, who appeared in the case.

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