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Rethinking Reservations: A Shift Towards Economic Equity in India

By Sharvi Patwardhan, DPS Modern Indian School, Wakra, Qatar

Published 2024 · Reviewed and updated 2026 by One Young India Review

Introduction

India's reservation system was built to right a historical wrong. Rooted in the Poona Pact of 1932 and written into the Constitution under Dr B.R. Ambedkar, it set aside seats in education, government jobs, and legislatures for Scheduled Castes (SC), Scheduled Tribes (ST), and later Other Backward Classes (OBC), groups that centuries of caste discrimination had shut out. It was meant to be temporary. Decades on, it has instead expanded, and the debate around it has only sharpened.

This paper makes one central argument: the way India targets reservation should be re-centred on economic disadvantage, not by erasing caste, but by adding a rigorous economic axis and tightening who within each group actually benefits. A caste-only design has two blind spots. It offers nothing to a poor upper-caste family that shares every economic hardship of its Dalit neighbour, and it lets a comfortable “creamy layer” within reserved groups absorb benefits meant for the poorest. Fixing both is the task.

But the argument has to survive its strongest objection, that caste still shapes life outcomes independent of income, and it has to clear a real constitutional and administrative bar. This paper takes both seriously, and ends with a concrete design rather than a slogan.

Why the system persists

Reservation endures for three linked reasons.

History and social structure. The policy exists because caste discrimination was, and in many places still is, real. It remains, for many families, a genuine ladder into education and secure work, which is exactly why any reform is so fraught.

Political arithmetic. A clear majority of Indians belong to categories eligible for some form of reservation. SC and ST together are roughly a quarter of the population (Census 2011: SC ~16.6%, ST ~8.6%), and OBCs, estimated at around half by the Mandal Commission, push the reservation-eligible share into a decisive electoral majority. No party can propose scrapping reservation without risking that vote base, so the system's survival is politically over-determined.

Expansion, not retreat. Recent moves, reservation in promotions, and the 2019 introduction of a 10% Economically Weaker Sections (EWS) quota, show the trend is toward widening the system, not winding it down.

Do reservations “work”? Reading the dropout numbers correctly

The original case against reservation leans on a striking statistic: that around 60% of undergraduate dropouts at the top seven IITs come from reserved categories (The Hindu, 2021). Taken alone, this sounds like proof that reservation sets students up to fail. It is not, and seeing why is the key to the whole debate.

The number is missing its denominator. Reserved categories hold about 49.5% of IIT seats (27% OBC, 15% SC, 7.5% ST). So if category made no difference at all, you would still expect roughly half of all dropouts to come from reserved groups, simply because roughly half the students are. A raw count of who dropped out is not a dropout rate.

When you use the properly-denominated data, the alarm dissolves. The Ministry's own figures, placed before Parliament in 2019, recorded 2,461 IIT dropouts across 23 IITs, of whom 47.5% were from reserved categories, slightly below their 49.5% share of seats (The Print, 2019). Reserved-category students were not dropping out at a higher rate; if anything, marginally lower. The “60%” figure for the top seven institutes still lacks per-category enrolment and per-category dropout rates, without which it cannot show what it is used to claim.

This matters because it changes the diagnosis. The dropouts that do happen are explained by the Ministry itself as financial hardship, weaker prior schooling, and isolation, problems of support, not of merit. The honest lesson is that admission without academic and financial support is not enough. That is an argument for targeting help where need is greatest, and, indeed, need can cut across caste lines. It is not an argument against representation.

The same discipline should apply to school dropout. Rather than the often-quoted but unverifiable claim that “half of students leave by 14,” the current official picture (Ministry of Education, UDISE+ 2024-25) is a secondary-stage (Class 9-10) dropout rate of about 13%, far higher than at primary level, and heavily driven by cost. Poverty, not caste alone, is pushing children out of the system early. That is precisely the disadvantage a sharper economic lens is meant to catch.

The objection an economics-only fix must answer

If the problem is really economic, why not simply swap caste for income and be done? Because the strongest evidence says caste discrimination operates independently of a family's bank balance, and money cannot buy your way out of it.

The clearest proof is a landmark correspondence (audit) study by Attewell and Thorat, published in the Economic and Political Weekly in 2007. The researchers answered real private-sector job advertisements with matched CVs that were identical except for the applicant's name, signalling caste or religion. Equally- or better-qualified applicants with Dalit and Muslim names were significantly less likely to be called for interview than those with high-caste Hindu names (Attewell & Thorat, 2007). Discrimination was operating at the very first gate of the hiring process.

This is the counter-argument the case for pure economic reservation must confront: an income-only rule would do nothing about this, because the bias attaches to identity, not to poverty. A wealthy Dalit engineer can still be screened out at the résumé stage. So honest reform cannot delete caste from the toolkit; it must keep caste-conscious anti-discrimination measures even as it adds an economic axis. The goal is a better-targeted system, not a colour-blind one that quietly abandons the people the policy was built for.

Clearing the constitutional and verification bar

The original transition plan skipped two hard obstacles. Both are surmountable, but only if named.

The constitutional bar. Caste-based reservation is not an accident of policy; it is written into the Constitution. Articles 15(4) and 16(4) authorise special provisions for “socially and educationally backward classes”, a caste-anchored category, and in Indra Sawhney v. Union of India (1992) the Supreme Court capped total reservation at 50%. You cannot re-base reservation on economics by executive order. But India has already run the experiment: the 103rd Constitutional Amendment (2019) created a purely economic 10% EWS quota, and in Janhit Abhiyan v. Union of India (2022) the Supreme Court upheld it by a 3:2 majority, holding that the 50% ceiling is “not inviolable” (SCC Online, 2022). The lesson is precise, the path runs through a formal constitutional amendment plus judicial endorsement, and economic criteria are now demonstrably constitutional.

The verification bar. The harder, unglamorous problem is proving who is actually poor. EWS eligibility uses an ₹8-lakh annual family-income limit, a figure the Supreme Court itself questioned as arbitrary, set without a clear basis and applied identically across rich metros and poor villages, and identical to the OBC creamy-layer limit despite different circumstances (LiveLaw, 2021). In an economy where most workers are informal and incomes go largely unreported, self-declared income is easy to game: the well-off can under-report their way in while the genuinely poor, lacking payslips, struggle to prove need. Even the government's own review (the Pandey Committee) proposed backstopping income with asset tests, such as excluding families holding five or more acres. Any economic-reservation design must therefore lean on verifiable proxies, land, property, and consumption data drawn from records like the Socio-Economic and Caste Census, not on self-declared income alone.

The proposal: a targeted hybrid, not a swap

Putting the evidence together, the workable reform is not “replace caste with income” but a hybrid that fixes what is broken while keeping what works:

  1. Sharpen who benefits within each group. Extend an OBC-style “creamy layer” income-and-asset exclusion to SC/ST reservation, a debated but constitutionally live option, so that benefits concentrate on the poorest within each community rather than a well-off minority.
  2. Add an economic axis, verified by assets not income. Run the economic (EWS-type) quota on verifiable proxies, land, property, and consumption, rather than self-declared income, to survive the informality problem the ₹8-lakh limit exposed.
  3. Keep discrimination in the crosshairs. Because audit evidence shows caste bias in hiring persists regardless of income, pair reservation with active anti-discrimination enforcement, for example, monitoring and audit-based testing of recruitment, which income criteria alone can never address.
  4. Pilot, measure, then scale. Introduce the redesign in selected institutions or regions first, publish per-category enrolment and dropout rates (the denominators missing today), and adjust before any nationwide rollout.

Conclusion

Reservation did real good: it opened doors that caste had bolted shut. But the case for reform should rest on evidence, not on a misread statistic. The IIT dropout numbers, read correctly, show reserved-category students leaving at roughly the same rate as everyone else, an argument for better support, not for dismantling representation. The genuine failures of the current design are narrower and fixable: it ignores poor families outside the reserved castes, lets a creamy layer crowd out the neediest, and rests on income tests too weak to police.

The answer is neither to freeze the system nor to swap caste for income wholesale. It is to target need more precisely, a creamy-layer filter within reserved groups, an economic axis verified by assets rather than self-declared income, and continued anti-discrimination enforcement to tackle the bias that money cannot fix, all delivered through the amendment path the EWS ruling has already mapped. That is how reservation can move closer to its original promise: not identity for its own sake, but a fair chance for every Indian the system was meant to reach.

Sources

  1. The Print (2019), 2,400 students dropped out of IITs in 2 years, nearly half were SC, ST, OBC, theprint.in
  2. Attewell, P. & Thorat, S. (2007), The Legacy of Social Exclusion: A Correspondence Study of Job Discrimination in India, Economic and Political Weekly, epw.in
  3. SCC Online (2022), Constitutionality of 10% Quota for EWS upheld in 3:2 verdict (Janhit Abhiyan v. Union of India), scconline.com
  4. LiveLaw (2021), Rs 8 Lakh Annual Income Limit For EWS Quota Prima Facie Reasonable, Says Supreme Court, livelaw.in
  5. Ministry of Education, UDISE+ 2024-25 (via Careers360, 2025), secondary-level dropout data, careers360.com
  6. The Hindu (2021), Parliament proceedings: 60% of dropouts at 7 IITs from reserved categories (figure corrected in text), thehindu.com
  7. Hindustan Times, Redesigning India's reservation system (opinion), hindustantimes.com

Cite this paper

Sharvi Patwardhan, DPS Modern Indian School, Wakra, Qatar (2024). Rethinking Reservations: A Shift Towards Economic Equity in India. The OYI Review, One Young India Press. https://www.oneyoungindia.com/white-papers/rethinking-reservations-a-shift-towards-economic-equity-in-india