NCERT Controversy: Should Children Learn About Judicial Corruption First? A Debate on Civic Education

Srimathi Venkatachari

Recently, a Class VIII National Council of Educational Research and Training (NCERT) social science textbook with a section describing “corruption in the judiciary” made headlines.

Supreme Court took suo motu cognisance of the material and questioned whether such portrayals were appropriate for adolescents encountering constitutional institutions for the first time. The Court directed that circulation of the textbook be halted and sought explanations from those responsible for its preparation.




The Union govt subsequently indicated that the controversial portion would be removed and the textbook revised. Whatever one’s view of the SC’s intervention, the episode illuminates a deeper pedagogical tension. The question is not whether institutional shortcomings exist — every constitutional democracy acknowledges fallibility. The question is whether a child’s first sustained introduction to the judiciary should begin with allegations of corruption. Civic education, like constitutional design, depends upon sequence. Foundations must precede fractures.

In Tamil Nadu, civic education cannot be detached from intellectual tradition. Subramania Bharati gave us courage without contempt. The Thirukkural placed virtue before authority, yet insisted on order. Periyar E V Ramasamy wielded scepticism as a scalpel, not a sledgehammer. None of them mistook early cynicism for enlightenment. Their shared lesson is subtle: question power, but understand its function. Reform institutions, but do not erode the idea of institutions. A child’s first civic lesson cannot be that courts are compromised or that politics is irredeemable. It must be that institutions are necessary, because without them, rights dissolve into rhetoric.

Consider the prolonged controversy in Tamil Nadu over the National Eligibility-cum-Entrance Test (NEET). The state assembly passed legislation seeking exemption from NEET for medical admissions, citing federal autonomy and social justice concerns. The bill’s journey involved the governor’s office, President’s assent and constitutional scrutiny. Litigation ensued in various forums, including proceedings before SC.

Yet within classrooms, a question arose: how should this controversy be taught? As evidence of federal friction? As a case study in the constitutional process? Or as proof that “the system is stacked”? If we rush to the last formulation, we risk reducing constitutional complexity to conspiracy. The NEET episode is, in fact, an exemplary teaching tool, not because it demonstrates systemic failure, but because it illustrates constitutional procedure in motion: legislative initiative, executive discretion, judicial review and federal negotiation. To present it as institutional betrayal would be pedagogical malpractice. To present it as institutional dialogue would be civic education.

The state has witnessed curricular controversies beyond the implementation of Samacheer Kalvi. Revisions in social science textbooks, particularly those relating to caste history, social reform movements and political figures have triggered debates about representation, omission and emphasis. Questions have been raised about how leaders such as Periyar are portrayed; whether national narratives overshadow regional struggles; and whether rationalist thought receives adequate contextual framing. Such debates are not signs of decay; they are symptoms of democratic vitality. But again, sequence matters. Students must first understand that textbooks are curated attempts at shared memory, not infallible scriptures nor partisan pamphlets.

This does not mean shielding students from uncomfortable truths. Judicial corruption allegations, whether in Tamil Nadu or elsewhere, are part of democratic reality. Discussions about transparency in judicial appointments, the collegium system and in-house inquiry procedures deserve space in advanced curricula. But such chapters must follow foundational instruction on due process and judicial independence. Otherwise we risk collapsing institutional criticism into institutional nihilism. A generation trained to believe that judges are merely politicians in robes will not defend judicial independence when it is genuinely threatened. Ironically, premature cynicism weakens accountability.

The Constitution speaks of fundamental duties in Article 51A, including respect for the Constitution. Respect is not obedience. It is recognition of necessity. In Tamil Nadu’s charged political culture rich with rhetoric, satire and sharp debate, there is a temptation to treat irreverence as sophistication. But irreverence without grounding is not rationalism; it is impatience.

To educate children to respect the law is not to deny them the tools of critique. It is to sequence those tools responsibly. First, teach them how a court functions. Then, teach them how it may fail. First, teach them why institutions exist. Then, teach them how they may be reformed. Otherwise, we will produce citizens adept at dismantling but uncertain about building. And democracies, unlike demolition sites, cannot afford perpetual reconstruction. If Tamil Nadu’s intellectual lineage teaches us anything, it is that courage need not cancel respect. Scepticism need not erase structure. The classroom must reflect that balance. Teach the law first. The chapter on corruption can wait.

To teach children first about corruption — judicial, executive or legislative — is to invert the moral sequence of democracy. The judiciary, for instance, must be introduced not as a theatre of scandal but as a constitutional organ. Articles 124 to 147 establish the Supreme Court; Articles 214 onwards establish the Madras HC. The architecture matters. The rule of law is a lived practice sustained by courts, procedures, and precedent.

SC is not infallible. Nor are high courts beyond reproach. Allegations of judicial misconduct have surfaced across jurisdictions, prompting debates about accountability mechanisms, in-house procedures, and the limitations of impeachment under Articles 124(4) and 217. But a chapter on judicial corruption belongs in a mature civic curriculum, one that has already explained separation of powers, judicial review, and constitutional remedies. Otherwise we risk producing students who believe the law is merely a mask for power, not a restraint upon it.

(The writer is an advocate in Madras HC)