What happens at a Lit Fest

Some times, all a writer has to do is simply describe what he sees and the story tells itself, my friend and former colleague Manu Joseph told me. “It can be both amusing and insightful.” Most of us who are familiar with Manu’s body of work know he is a terrific writer with three best-selling books to his credit.

This conversation occurred last year when we met at the Bangalore Literature Festival. He was there as a speaker at the grand finale last to speak on a very controversial theme: “How do you define nationalism?”

I’ll come to that debate and the characters in a little while.

It didn’t occur to me until way after hearing Manu’s insight that I was in a sweet spot.

On the one hand, I was among an audience that would get to listen to some stars that included formidable public intellectuals like Ramchandra Guha (who opened the proceedings), Nitin Pai (who co-founded the Takshashila Institution), cricketers like Rahul Dravid and Anil Kumble, policy makers of consequence like Y.V. Reddy (former governor of the Reserve Bank of India), fiery writers in Indian languages like Perumal Murugan, and the glamourous actor-turned-writer Twinkle Khanna. 

Then, on the other hand, I was offered the privilege to moderate a discussion by an all-star panel around Aadhaar — a project around which controversy had peaked last year. It was also the time when The Aadhaar Effect, a book I had co-authored on the the theme had just hit the shelves.

Aadhaar was originally thought up to create a unique identity for 1.3 billion Indians. It has got the world’s attention and was under much scrutiny. On stage with me were Jairam Ramesh, a member of Parliament and author of multiple books, Arun Maira, writer and former member of the Planning Commission, and Sanjay Jain, chief innovation officer at IIM Ahmedabad. In an earlier avatar, Jain was part of the core team that worked on creating the infrastructure for Aadhaar.

With the benefit of hindsight, I now know Manu was right. I don’t have much to do here except describe the various kinds of creatures I saw off stage, on stage, behind the stage, and describe them. This story will tell itself.

Creature #1: The Politicians

Kanhaiya Kumar and Jairam Ramesh had the audiences—me included — eating out their hands. The former, a student leader, is perceived by some as having political ambitions. Manu was on stage with him as one of the speakers trying to define what may the idea of nationalism be. 

Jairam Ramesh is somebody whom I have been trying to reach out to for a while so I may engage in a conversation to understand what his stated position on Aadhaar is. For various reasons, though, we haven’t had a chance to meet. My understanding was that while he started out as a votary of the idea of a universal identity, he now belongs to the camp opposed to it. Why did his stated position change is something that remains unclear to me. That is why I was delighted to share the stage with him; it offered a chance to ask him point-blank about where he stands.

Back to Kanhaiya Kumar. On stage at the finale on Sunday evening were people of all kinds, including Makarand Paranjape (a teacher from JNU), Manu Joseph, and Suketu Mehta, another globally acclaimed writer. Paranjape is a teacher, author and, in the public domain, is known as someone who leans to the “right wing". All of them were there to articulate their views on where to draw the thin line that separates nationalism and jingoism.

Each speaker was given five minutes to make their opening remarks. Paranjape opened with a measured tone on a scholarly note. By the time the mike reached Kanhaiya Kumar, he had heard pretty much everyone speak, Manu and Mehta included.

I watched with much fascination as Kanhaiya Kumar gently asked the moderator if he could stand up to make his opening remarks. Everybody had made their points while seated. Initially, the moderator politely declined. But Kanhaiya’s “humble" demeanour, amplified by his simple kurta and frayed trousers, conveyed to the audience an impression that he was the “outsider", the kind who inevitably gets “left out". That was his calling card.

He addressed everyone on stage as “sir" to drive home the point that he is indeed the “outsider". I thought I could see the audience members’ heads stop working as Kanhaiya started to speak and their hearts go into overdrive—mine included. All of us shouted that he be allowed to stand up to speak. Kanhaiya got what he wanted.

He made his opening remarks in broken English as opposed to the urbane language deployed by everyone else on stage. Those remarks in English sounded like prepared ones. He then apologized to the audience and told everyone his native tongue isn’t English and that he grew up in the hinterlands of Bihar. So, Hindi is the language he is most comfortable in and asked for permission to speak in Hindi.

In South India, Hindi is an imposition. But coming as an “earnest plea" from a young boy, our hearts went out to him. “Yes, yes!" we screamed. 

That was the only opening he needed. My colleague Ramnath, who doesn’t understand Hindi, stood in awe of all that Kanhaiya Kumar said. I admit I was taken in too and tweeted about it while he spoke. “My idea of nationalism does not include imposing Hindi on everyone," he said in chaste Hindi. I don’t know how many people understood all of what he said.

Unlike everyone else, he wasn’t speaking to a script, but unleashing rebuttals to those whom he didn’t agree with, most of which were directed at Paranjape. To do that, he was deploying rhetoric, not logic. The nuances were all lost. For instance, “If you think I lean to the Left, yes, I lean to the left, because I am among those who got left out."

With the benefit of hindsight, I now know he said nothing of consequence. But we applauded wildly as he went on a monologue that lasted all of 12 minutes—way past the mandated brief. Clearly, he was in political career-launch mode. I wonder how far he may go! 

I would have loved to talk with him. I ran into him later in the evening. We were staying at the hotel and on the same floor. It was time to exchange pleasantries. But he seemed tired and reluctant to engage. When I told him, though, that I write for a good part of my living, I thought I could see his demeanor change to suggest he may be amenable to conversing. I cannot be too sure. It is entirely possible I may have imagined the change. But gut feel told me there is a supremely confident politician in the making here. I shared my contact details with a companion the Supreme Court has mandated must accompany him at all times. He didn’t share his details. But I wait in the hope he may touch base sometime. I like listening to stories of all kinds.

It was much the same thing with Jairam Ramesh. I was naïve to imagine I could corner him. Just when I thought I had bowled a googly at him on stage about how the Congress party, which he represents, was in power when Aadhaar was thought up and first deployed, and that his voice as a critic now comes across as rather grating and politically-motivated, it didn’t take him much thinking to fend the googly off with a straight bat. “It’s a great idea. But badly implemented," he said, to much applause.

In response to a question from someone in the audience on whether they ought to get themselves an Aadhaar number and link everything to it as is now being mandated, he got away by saying that the law must be obeyed. But to oppose anything you do not agree with is part of the fundamental fabric of a democracy. The flourish with which he said it had me flustered and the audience on his side.

And I don’t know when and how he slipped in that his position changes as his role changes. This was a line I had heard from another member of Parliament while researching the project. Ramesh’s stated position went unchallenged and unanswered. I felt compelled to ask everyone to applaud for him. 

You don’t get to be politician by being stupid. You get to be one because you are smarter than everyone else.

Creature #2: The Critics

Most people at literary fests are the genuinely curious kinds who want to know more about the world. These form the quiet majority. They are keen to listen to people talk, engage in conversations with others, participate in events, buy books, engage in banter with assorted people, try out all kinds of food, and pick some trinkets with much gusto at events the organizers put together after much thought.

It is the vocal minority, though, which gets written about. These are the critics and regulars at all lit fests and are a peculiar breed. There are some traits that bind them.

• They carry an impression of themselves—that they are created of a different mud as opposed to the “masses" who frequent cinema halls to watch Shah Rukh Khan serenade his love interests in the Bollywood version of Switzerland.

• They also imagine themselves as more intelligent than everybody else because they are professional critics often employed at a media house. So, they think it incumbent to criticize everything. 

• These creatures get invited to events like these and are put up at plush places. They talk well, look good, and carry a certain demeanor. And, for all practical purposes, they “travel in a pack". But the serious critics are often ignored and work in mofussil places.

• Funnier still is that, unlike the Shah Rukh Khan fan who will pay hard-earned money to watch a movie first day first show, this vocal minority pays nothing for anything. But their criticism is taken seriously. “The rooms at Cannes last week were so much more better than the crap ones here," for instance.

That is why I assumed I’d be up against a “hostile audience" because by all accounts, they have decided that Aadhaar is evil. Why, I wondered, and poked around a bit. Some interesting nuggets emerged. 

Take the media critic for instance. This creature is of two kinds — the uninformed and the idiot. The uninformed exists because it hasn’t done its homework and lucked out to get to where it is.

The idiot exists because it can scream from the rooftops, but lacks substance. That is the tragedy with both Indian liberals and those on the right wing. Push them hard and they cannot defend their position beyond 500 words in print. But their decibel levels are high on television they are parasites to boot. Their existence is incumbent on real critics who do the hard work and offer feedback from the ground. Idiots don’t have the muscle to do the hard work. So, they wait until the homework is done by real reporters who go to the field to find out what may the deficiencies be and file meticulous reports.

Idiots then pick and choose what can cause the most impact, craft it to suit their interests, and bomb the place with it. All else is ignored conveniently. When questioned, they have a standard question to throw: who funds you?

Popular narratives on most media platforms are shaped by either the uninformed or the idiot.

So, as a moderator of a panel discussion on Aadhaar, my job was to place a complex theme into perspective. And through all the time I was there, I was asked by various people what I think of Project Aadhaar because I had a “Speaker" tag on my neck and many knew I am there as a moderator. 

Just that I may place the conversation into perspective, I had to state it in as many words on a public forum—that I think to provide a unique identity to over a billion people is a staggering accomplishment. And to completely diss the project is stupid. I could see a few angry faces in the front grunt in disagreement and yell that I shut up. This was stuff they didn’t want to hear. It doesn’t fit the narratives that the uninformed and the idiots believe in.

Some media outlets and social media handles reported the next morning that I was heckled by a packed audience. This was in contrast to what I could see from stage. I thought I could see an audience keen to listen to different perspectives. Because, until then, the only narrative most people have been told is that Aadhaar is a dystopian idea and intended to hijack their lives.

But because local media reports had it that I was heckled, I thought I’d check with a few friends who were in the audience. They told me the only dissonant notes were by some angry voices in the front. Darned right I was. The larger audience wanted to listen in to the multiple perspectives. But if it got reported, it would hijack the contemporary narrative now controlled by a vocal minority.

Manu thought the audience was a receptive one as well. That is why my initial irritation gave way to much amusement when my colleague Ramnath reminded me of a quote by Oscar Wilde. “There is much to be said in favour of modern journalism. By giving us opinions of the uneducated, it keeps us in touch with the ignorance of the community."

This is not to suggest I have no biases. “Why," I argued in my head, “does Twinkle Khanna have to be at a lit fest? What is her claim to fame? Is it because she is pretty? What were the organizers thinking? Or smoking? And why is she always surrounded by people who want selfies with her?" I always maintained her book sold as many copies as it did because she is pretty and was a popular actor.

Another part of me confronted myself, though, and said that it is a terribly unfair thing to suggest. I haven’t read her book and arrived at a conclusion based on some assumptions—not the truth. I haven’t met her or made any attempt to meet her either. But later in the evening, over dinner, Manu told me that he has met her while on an assignment and thinks of her as an intelligent and beautiful woman. 

But the media can shape popular narrative and informed opinions are hard to come by. To that extent, I suspect I am the kind of liberal who give liberals a bad name.

It was driven home harder still when I walked over to the table where Makarand Paranjape was having a quiet drink. He asked me my name. And then went on to tell me the historical significance of its origins and why I ought to be happy to possess it. When I told him I am not a practicing Catholic, he went on to offer me a brief treatise on the history of Catholicism and asked me some tough questions on why I gave up my faith. So much for all narratives of him being called a right winger. If he is on the right wing, give me a right winger like him any day, as opposed to a shallow liberal. (Update: His posturing on social media continue to come across as boorish in stark contrast)

The other nugget that came my way is that there are “paid critics" who are “professional socialites". After having spent two decades in journalism, it was only then that I discovered this species exists and that there is a reason they get invited to these dos. They have large followings on social medias platforms and columns as well in popular newspapers — usually tabloids or on Page 3. 

A tweet from them or a line insidiously implying a brand is a good one can get their accounts credited with as much as Rs. 5 lakh. In much the same way, they can destroy a carefully crafted reputation as well with a single line. They must be humoured and kept in the good books.

Now I know why one of them has me blocked on Twitter. I’d called him a few names on Twitter in a fit of anger after reading some rather ridiculous tweets on his timeline. The other is a creature always in the news, has answers to everybody’s problems, knows all the gossip, and I don’t bother to read. But the missus thinks of her as somebody worth emulating. All said, both live a nice, “cheap" life of the kind I envy.

Creature #3: The Writers

Everybody wants to write a book. The Bangalore Literature Festival was full of writers. Authors were being looked at in awe. Some people asked me what is it that I do for a living. When told I spend a good part of my time writing, I was often told how they have this idea for a book in their mind and if I can offer any pointers on how may they go about it.

Manu and I were catching up after a long while and the both of us laughed at how miserable a writer’s life is. It is hard work and the return on investment (ROI) is terribly low. If you may need perspective, allow me to offer some unsolicited advice on why you ought not to write a book.

• Good books aren’t whipped out of thin air. But it took Manu’s most recent book, a thin volume if size is a metric, three years to complete. We didn’t get into each other’s personal financials. But he and I know writing is lonely, takes awfully long, nobody outside the business understands why does it take as long to write one, and why we expend so much time on what pays as little as it does.

• Then there are the perverted economics of it all. In India, a book that can sell 5,000 copies is considered a bestseller. Assuming each book is priced at Rs500, a best-selling writer can hope to earn Rs2.5 lakh in royalties from the publisher—that is assuming he manages to negotiate royalties in the region of 10% for each copy sold. This too may be set off against the advance paid by a publisher.

• Reality is, thousands of books are written each year. Not all are priced at Rs500, royalties at 10% don’t kick in from the first copy sold, and only a handful make it to the bestseller list.

  So why do you write? The both of us agreed on that the only reason we continue to write is because we love to write. And that the time spent in writing is the only time we feel pure and sacred. I suspect it may be the kind of moment the spiritually-inclined may feel when in prayer.

  When reality kicks in, though, we know the only reason we can write is because there are other streams that allow us to carry on with life. Until then, we continue to delude ourselves to believe the law of averages may tilt in our favour and that what we write may someday make us rich and famous.

  So how do you get to be a full-time writer? My friend Ramnath again pointed me to a passage from Nicholas Nassim Taleb’s book Anti-Fragile. “There is a tradition with French and other European literary writers to look for a sinecure, say, the anxiety-free profession of civil servant, with few intellectual demands and high job security, the kind of low-risk job that ceases to exist when you leave the office, then spend their spare time writing, free to write whatever they want, under their own standards. There is a shockingly small number of academics among French authors."

  “American writers, on the other hand, tend to become members of the media or academics, which makes them prisoners of a system and corrupts their writing, and, in the case of research academics, makes them live under continuous anxiety, pressures, and indeed, severe bastardization of the soul."

  My observations can go on and on. But I must stop. Because, as a speaker at the festival cheekily told Ramnath and me backstage before getting onstage, “Current discourses now sound like the Arnab Monologues."

This is an edited & updated version of a piece that was first published in Mint on Sunday

Thinking: Elastic versus Analytical

If this conversation has your attention, may I suggest you get a copy of Leonard Mlodinow’s supber book that is Elastic: Flexible Thinking in a Constantly Changing World.

The economic case for leisure

“What are your hobbies,” Kuldeep Datay asked. He practises at the Mumbai-based Institute of Psychological Health (IPH). I fumbled. He dismissed my intense physical routine as an activity I engage in to accomplish an immediate goal. Indeed. It is aimed to run a half marathon in under two hours. That I enjoy it is another matter altogether. But I enjoy work as well with goals to be met.

“All your waking hours,” he submitted, “are devoted to productive activities so you get better at what you do. What do you do for leisure?” The import of what he was asking wouldn’t be evident until the mind wandered to a conversation with Shankar Maruwada, who co-founded the EkStep Foundation with Nandan and Rohini Nilekani. Maruwada spends his time trying to understand how people learn. “Our obsession with getting better at what we do is making us redundant,” he said.

By way of perspective, once upon a time, medical knowledge doubled every 50 years. Advances in computing have got us to a point where it now doubles every 72 days. Artificial Intelligence is needed to access new knowledge. The human mind cannot cope. That is why, even as medical degrees are conferred, doctors get outdated. Such disruptions are happening across disciplines. How is any professional to stay relevant then?

“We need Adaptive Expertise,” says Maruwada. Individuals must learn, unlearn, and learn again, multiple times, in a single lifetime. But learning can be traumatic. To learn, we must first go through a cycle of incompetence. Remember the time you first got on a bicycle? It was tough. Until, suddenly, it got to be an unconscious act.

Children, he explains, are familiar with this trauma. They learn something new at school every day. Incompetence is not humiliating to them. After formal schooling though, most people forgot how to learn and deal with the trauma that accompanies it. So, we stick to what we know.

Is that why I am not learning to sculpt, for instance, something I know nothing about? Perhaps fear of being perceived as incompetent holds me back. But people in the Renaissance Era, people like Leonardo da Vinci, had no such qualms. While we know of him as an artist, his hobby was studying the human anatomy. People around him thought it morbid. Did he care? He engaged in it when at leisure. Five hundred years later, historians regard him as one of the greatest anatomists of all time.

Ironically, leisure is what all of us crave. But we believe it is time wasted. The import of Datay’s question hit home. If time is not spent on a hobby or leisure, we will be disrupted. Like medical doctors are, 72 days after they graduate.

This piece was first published in in the print edition of Hindustan Times on May 5, 2019. All copyrights vest with HT Media

A festival of idiots

Over the last two months, I’ve participated at various literature festivals. It has much to do with that The Aadhaar Effect, a book I co-authored with NS Ramnath is now on the shelves. Having done the rounds, I feel compelled to conclude the few honest people that exist in the ecosystem are organizers (many of whom are volunteers) and the audiences who take much pain to get there. 

 Practically, every other creature at events such as these are either idiots or parasites. It was a thought that occurred last year when I moderated a panel discussion at the Bangalore Lit Fest. Following that, I exchanged notes with my former colleague and friend Manu Joseph. “Oftentimes, all a writer has to do is simply describe what he sees and the story tells itself," he told me. “It can be both amusing and insightful."

 With the benefit of hindsight, I now know Manu was right. I don’t have much to do here except describe the various kinds of creatures I saw off stage, on stage, behind the stage, and describe them. This story will tell itself. Indeed. Manu was right. They are regulars at all lit fests, some traits bind them all, and most are idiots to boot.

•  They carry an impression of themselves—that they are created of a different mud as opposed to the “masses" who frequent cinema halls to watch Shah Rukh Khan serenade his love interests in the Bollywood version of Switzerland. 

• They also imagine themselves as more intelligent than everybody else because they are professional critics often employed at a media house. So, they think it incumbent to criticize everything. 

• These creatures get invited to events like these and are put up at plush places. They talk well, look good, and carry a certain demeanor. And, for all practical purposes, they “travel in a pack". But the serious critics are often ignored and work in mofussil places.

• Funnier still is that, unlike the Shah Rukh Khan fan who will pay hard-earned money to watch a movie first day first show, this vocal minority pays nothing for anything. But their criticism is taken seriously. “The rooms at Cannes last week were so much more better than the crap ones here," for instance. 

Take the media critic for instance. This creature is of two kinds—the uninformed and the idiot. The uninformed exists because it hasn’t done its homework and lucked out to get to where it is. 

 Idiots exist because they can scream from the rooftops. But they lack substance. That is the tragedy with both Indian liberals and those on the extreme right wing. Push them hard and they cannot defend their position beyond 500 words in print. But their decibel levels are high on television and are parasites to boot.

 Idiots then pick and choose what can cause the most impact, craft it to suit their interests, and bomb the place with it. All else is ignored conveniently.

When questioned, they have a standard question to throw: who funds you?

But popular narratives are shaped by either the uninformed or the idiot.

 To put that into perspective, from all forums that matter, I have stated that for all its flaws, to provide a unique identity to over a billion people is a staggering accomplishment. And to completely diss Aadhaar is stupid. But the so-called liberals don’t like this narrative.

 At the Bangalore Lit Fest, when I said that in as many words, some media outlets and social media handles reported the next morning that I was heckled by a packed audience. This was in contrast to what I could see from stage. I thought I could see an audience keen to listen to different perspectives. Because, until then, the only narrative most people have been told is that Aadhaar is a dystopian idea and intended to hijack their lives.

 But because local media reports had it that I was heckled, I thought I’d check with a few friends who were in the audience. They told me the only dissonant notes were by some angry voices in the front. Darned right I was. The larger audience wanted to listen in to the multiple perspectives. But if it got reported, it would hijack the contemporary narrative now controlled by a vocal minority. 

 Manu thought the audience was a receptive one as well. That is why my initial irritation gave way to much amusement when my colleague Ramnath reminded me of a quote by Oscar Wilde. “There is much to be said in favour of modern journalism. By giving us opinions of the uneducated, it keeps us in touch with the ignorance of the community."

This is not to suggest I have no biases. “Why," I argued in my head, “does Twinkle Khanna have to be at a lit fest? What is her claim to fame? Is it because she is pretty? What were the organizers thinking? Or smoking? And why is she always surrounded by people who want selfies with her?" I always maintained her book sold as many copies as it did because she is pretty and was a popular actor.

 Another part of me confronted myself, though, and said that it is a terribly unfair thing to suggest. I haven’t read her book and arrived at a conclusion based on some assumptions—not the truth. I haven’t met her or made any attempt to meet her either. But later in the evening, over dinner, Manu told me that he has met her while on an assignment and thinks of her as an intelligent and beautiful woman. 

 But the media can shape popular narrative and informed opinions are hard to come by. To that extent, I suspect I am the kind of liberal who give liberals a bad name.

 It was driven home harder still when I walked over to the table where Makarand Paranjape, was seated. He asked me my name. And then went on to tell me the historical significance of its origins and why I ought to be happy to possess it. When I told him I am not a practicing Catholic, he went on to offer me a brief treatise on the history of Catholicism and asked me some tough questions on why I gave up my faith. So much for all narratives of him being called a right winger. If he is on the right wing, give me a right winger like him any day, as opposed to a shallow liberal.

The other nugget that came my way is that there are “paid critics" who are “professional socialites". There is a reason they get invited to these dos. They have large followings on social medias platforms and columns as well in popular newspapers—usually tabloids or on Page 3. A tweet from them or a line insidiously implying a brand is a good one can get their accounts credited with as much as Rs.5 lakh. In much the same way, they can destroy a carefully crafted reputation as well with a single line. They must be humoured and kept in the good books. 

The other joker who is a regular on the circuit, has answers to everybody’s questions, likes to publicly diss Ruskin Bond as an “old fart”, is a tall, lanky, light-eyed, idiot based out of Mumbai. He claims to be a Bombay-boy, has answers to everything visiting white folks at lit festivals are curious about. As for us “desi-boys”, we don’t cut ice with him. But yes, he lives a nice, “cheap" life of the kind I envy.

(A longer version of this piece was originally published in Mint last year)

The Era of Polymaths

A talk by Peter Kaufman on the Mulit-Disciplinary Approach to Thinking. Hosted by the Cal Poly Pomona Economics Club on March 29th, 2018. Mr. Kaufman does not normally allow his talks to be on the record, but is making a rare exception in this case. He believes the message within this talk – that it is possible to succeed in business, yet fail in life – is critical for anyone interested in living a full, meaningful life, with minimal regret in later years. He hopes that “going positive and going first”, “win/win”, and “going far by going together” are ideas that aspiring money managers will take to heart in their own lives. Link to Full Transcript: http://latticeworkinvesting.com/2018/04/06/peter-kaufman-on-the-multidisciplinary-approach-to-thinking/

One of the most interesting thoughts embedded in my head the other day is that "50 is the new 30."

There is furious debate on the theme with a lot many people who think the line a tub of crock. When thought of though from a dynamic systems perspective, this debate ought to be done and dusted with. 

As technology progresses with unprecedented velocity (as opposed to mindless speed), it is incumbent on humans to morph into polymaths. This is not just about survival, but about living well. We stand at the edge of a new Renaissance Era That is why I listened in with much fascination to this talk by Peter Kaufman, President of Gordian Group. 

For those who look at mental models and believe there is much value in multi-disciplinary thinking, this talk grabs you by the scruff of the neck from the word go.

"So why is it important to be a multidisciplinary thinker? The answer comes from the Austrian philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein who said, ‘To understand is to know what to do.’ Could there be anything that sounds simpler than that? And yet it’s a genius line, to understand is to know what to do. How many mistakes do you make when you understand something? You don’t make any mistakes. Where do mistakes come from? They come from blind spots, a lack of understanding. Why do you need to be multidisciplinary in your thinking? Because as the Japanese proverb says, ‘The frog in the well knows nothing of the mighty ocean.’ You may know everything there is to know about your specialty, your silo, your “well”, but how are you going to make any good decisions in life…the complex systems of life, the dynamic system of life…if all you know is one well?"

The full transcript has been meticulously put in place by Richard Lewis of Latticework Investing.  I've gone over the ideas a few times now and am wrestling with all that is embedded in here. 

Big Data and the India Story

Distance provides perspective. I figured that on the airplane back home to Mumbai earlier last week after a short trip through the Middle East. I was mandated to talk to a select audience behind closed doors about the India story. 

The reason I was among those invited was because for two years now, my colleague N.S. Ramnath and I have been researching the ecosystem evolving around Project Aadhaar. Between the both of us, we have been interviewing multiple sets of people and asking questions like what does this means for India, what may the geopolitical implications of it all be, how should people think about it and why does it attract such fierce reactions from people. One of the outcomes of this research is intended to be the first in a series of books that Founding Fuel has commissioned.

On the back of primary research and conversations with people who hold diverse points of view, I felt compelled to assert when on stage that it is true that multiple hiccups in the project exist. For instance, there is much political bickering over which party must be seen as the one that gave legitimacy to Project Aadhaar. Then there are government departments falling head over heel over to please those in power and make it mandatory that citizens link their accounts to this identity number, by a deadline that sounds out of whack, if they need uninterrupted access to services. 

It is inevitable then that civil society raise their voice. In any case, making it mandatory violates the spirit of Project Aadhaar. That is because it was originally crafted on the back of what technologists call a “consent architecture”. Simply put, it ought not to be imposed on anyone or made mandatory. That is also why I believe the judiciary will step in at some point. 

That is also what makes me optimistic about the outcomes of Project Aadhaar, and the precedents it can set for the world to follow on how must an individual’s fundamental right to privacy be protected in the longer run. 

Why? Because when examined deeply, Project Aadhaar combines, on the one hand, the idealism of people like Richard Stallman, whom I have had philosophical differences with in the past, and on the other hand, the pragmatism of Linus Torvalds. Between the both of them, they made open source software, collaboration and Linux palatable propositions. Google, for instance, has Linux at its heart and most mobile phones in the world are powered by Linux at their cores. 

Men like Stallman have always argued that some things like art, music and software must be “free”. Free like freedom, not free like free beer—as he likes to put it. It took me a long while wrap my head around his ideas.

It is much the same thing with Aadhaar and India Stack. That is why it was not difficult to figure why questions from the audience were fast and furious. While there, I thought it was because they were stunned by the audacity of attempting to provide a unique identity to over 1.3 billion people. If I were an outsider, I would have felt much the same way too. 

Before we dwell on the “India” story, what about the other story?

Most Americans I spoke to while in the Middle East—all of whom were from the diplomatic corps and CEOs of various entities—are terribly embarrassed about their president, Donald Trump. So much so that one of the key speakers who was part of the former president Bill Clinton’s administration, served as an advisor to President Barack Obama, and is now part of a global lobbying group, went on to paint a dismal picture of the US. That is why he said he is among those who are at work to initiate impeachment proceedings around Trump’s presidency. 

Then there is the China story. I continue to wonder: how does China continue to grow at a scorching pace? What can India do to catch up? Some Chinese officials and diplomats based out of Beijing condescendingly nodded their heads at my naivety for imagining all is well there. 

In conversations over dinner, and on the sidelines, they suggested the China story is a hyped one. And that the truth does not get reported. The stories we read are on the back of numbers vetted by the state apparatus. I pushed some, whom I thought may be amenable to open up, and asked what they think real growth rates are like. Nobody seemed to know—but in their reckoning, China is in a recession. But no one is willing to say that in the public domain in as many words. Instead, it is couched as a question on whether or not China may be headed into one.

As for those in the UK and Europe, they seem utterly devastated at how things have come to such a pass. British diplomats articulated their concerns over how wretched the economy looks. And those from Germany and other parts of Europe suggested they had never imagined a time would come when Europe would reach the impasse it has. Through their eyes, they cannot comprehend why Indians want to migrate to their part of the world.

In the Middle East, where we were having these conversations, local diplomats thought it a good place to have a picnic. But when heavy lifting is called for, the big boys from the White House swing into action and issue instructions on what is to be done. But everyone is acutely aware that they live in a filter bubble, and that the gleaming glass facades do not represent the political and economic morass the region has descended into. 

Multiple fissures between various kingdoms exist, power struggles between them have to be mediated upon, economic battles are being fought in the region, and new sources of revenues for each kingdom must be thought up because oil wells have practically dried up. 

That is why many seemed most curious about India and what I had to say. On the one hand, their newspapers are gushing about “this thing you guys are implementing called Aadhaar and India Stack”. Then on the other hand, reports emanating from India argue it is part of a larger conspiracy on part of the Indian government to “snoop on its citizens”. 

What sense are they to make of it?

My submission is this. That, much like my understanding of what a lovely place the US and Europe is basis rosy pictures painted on multiple media platforms, Aadhaar and India Stack as reported from India is also a badly reported story.

By way of example, many critics argue the system isn’t a perfect one because it excludes potential beneficiaries from the system. The most recent cases of pig-headed officials throwing the rule books at the underprivileged in Jharkhand to deny them subsidies is a case in point. But this argument must be scrutinized. 

Unlike most developed democracies where every citizen is conferred with a unique identity, like a Social Security Number (SSN), for instance, in the US, the Indian system is such that people can acquire multiple identities. 

If perspective may be needed, it is entirely possible to subvert the current ecosystem and tax assesses can acquire multiple Permanent Account Numbers (PAN). Incidentally, those who are taxed live at the top of the economic pyramid in India. They live in a country called India One with a population of 180 million people on the outside. But because those who live in this country can acquire multiple identities, one of the many outcomes in unreliable data. Add to this ingenious accounting practices and people can get away without paying taxes. An undesirable outcome of this is a low tax base. By the government’s admission, the latest numbers have it that a little over 22 million people filed tax returns in India. How, and where, did the others disappear? 

It doesn’t stop at that those living in the country that is India One get away without paying taxes, but exploit loopholes in the system to acquire multiple identities to appropriate benefits that may otherwise accrue to those who really need it and live in India Two and Three. 

It is entirely possible that somebody appropriated the identities of those in Jharkhand and kept the subsidies that were due to them. Our ground reporting has shown this is indeed possible. Officials on their part can go the extra mile and throw every rule book to cover their backside.

I can go on and on—but to plug leakages of these kinds, the surest place to begin with is confer every citizen with a unique identity that cannot be duplicated and that benefits be transferred directly. 

That said, it is also inevitable that when technology is deployed at such scale, some will get excluded. Those who have worked on the system ground up are cognizant of these issues and are at work to plug the loopholes and will follow Moore’s Law—that technologically-driven systems will improve exponentially every 18 months. This law has stood the test of time for 50 years now. 

Then there are those who argue that while Aadhaar may be a good way to deliver subsidies, what is the case to link it to PAN cards? I think both are connected. Enhancing state capacity to implement a progressive tax system gives it additional resources to spend on safety nets for the poor.

To that extent, the conversations Ramnath and I have had suggest that this is a model of development unique to India and one that is evolving. The significance of the data it generates must be looked at through the eyes of an underprivileged Indian citizen. 

As for the much-amplified debate around privacy, these are stories that come without an understanding of the technical architecture of the project. Here again, Ramnath and I believe the regulatory authorities and the Supreme Court will intervene and cut past the bluster. I’ll come to that in a bit and try to illustrate why they must do it urgently. Government departments must be reminded they are in office to run a marathon for the people of India—and not running a sprint to please those in power.

The economic case for data

The American model of wealth creation is capitalism. This is of the kind where winner takes all. But it is a brutal one that leaves those at the middle and bottom of the pyramid to fend for themselves. To give the system credit though, this economic system has created spectacularly successful entities like Facebook, Amazon, Netflix, Google (or the FANG quartet, if you will) and Uber. The problem with this system now though is that wealth is concentrated in the hands of a few. 

Then there is capitalism of the kind practiced in Western Europe. It tries to walk the middle path between naked capitalism on the one hand and social markets on the other hand. On paper, all of us like it. But it cannot be scaled. Basis trips through Western Europe and multiple conversations with friends with whom I spend time when there, I have witnessed first-hand the exasperation writ on their faces at the kind of taxes they pay. When past their prime, in their reckoning, what the state provides them by way of welfare isn’t in line with what they spent busting their backsides off. If they’d done as much time in the US, they’d have paid far less in taxes, and may have been better off. 

In Eastern Europe, on the other hand, a part of the world through which I have again had a chance to travel through extensively and interact with people, I have friends who live a brutal life. When looked through their eyes, the Western European model looks like a good one. Work five days a week, get paid leave, the state takes care of you when unwell, and life is good. On their part, the Americans who live at the middle and bottom of the economic pyramid seem to concur too.

But when looked at from the eyes of the Chinese authorities, models like these work in the US and Europe because the governments there deal with a barely a few hundred million people at most. They have no clue what it is like to manage a country that has in excess of a billion people. 

In their mind, to get things to work in China, everything must be imposed. That is why they issue orders without any qualms. The authorities there thought the American quartet of FANG and Uber are not good for China. And that they must create their own ecosystem and narrative to dominate the world. The outcome is a model that has created formidable creatures like Baidu, Alibaba and Tencent (BAT). It is now a trinity that is challenging FANG. 

As for Indians, another bunch of over a billion people, they seem to look like poor cousins who see the FANG quartet and the BAT trinity as creatures worth emulating. But like I said earlier, the FANG quartet was created in a free market where winner takes all. And the BAT trinity is imposed on the back of orders. 

Emerging evidence suggest both are flawed. In a country like India where the population is as dense as it is, inequality as high, and the political system is a democracy, neither will a winner-takes-all-model work nor can a top-down approach be imposed.

Consider the constraints, to begin with, from a geopolitical prism. The FANG quartet and Uber in the US are private enterprises. It is inevitable then that the winner keeps all. This includes the platforms they build, the data that emerges from it, all value that accrues out of it—including the money and the data that resides on it. It is a free market. In a BAT trinity, the state decides and the masses comply. So, both of these are options that don’t sound viable.

But India seems to be uniquely placed in that civil society is loud and vibrant. It is also uniquely placed in that it will not allow any private enterprise to dominate public discourse—nor will it allow the state to impose its authority on the people. 

Between these two stories, there is another narrative taking shape. It traces its roots to the idealism of Stallman, the pragmatism of Torvalds and lessons learnt from mistakes made in the US and China. The outcome of which is a model called India Stack, of which Aadhaar is one component.

To understand what India Stack means, imagine a lovely highway. If the government builds one, that development around it will happen is inevitable. But to drive a vehicle on it though, you need to have a license. In much the same way, India Stack is a digital highway. How you choose to build a business on the highway is open to your imagination. To use this highway though, you need a unique identity—and that is your Aadhaar number. 

The intent behind building his “digital highway” is because unlike other parts of the world where “highways” exist to deliver public services and goods to people, what exists in India is something that is either broken or non-existent. To get 1.3 billion people into a formal economy, plug leakages of all kinds, and deliver seamless services, smart solutions lie in adopting the digital route. 

Now, the thing with all platforms (or highways, if you will) built using digital technologies is that it is prized because it contains data about people. Minus data, it is worth nothing. 

What has gone unreported about India Stack is that this framework is a unique one. It allows citizens to own their data and port it to another “highway”, or from one platform to another—an idea that no private entity or government is comfortable with. Not just that, business models are being tested around this idea—all of which are uniquely Indian ones and can be exported to other parts of the world.

We, the people of India

What lends legitimacy to this platform now is that the Supreme Court of India has ruled that privacy is a fundamental right of every Indian citizen. If the architecture of India Stack, of which Aadhaar is the unique number you are identified by, is followed in letter and spirit, this is an easy order to comply with. 

By way of example, let’s say, you apply for a loan. The bank doesn’t know your name. Why does it need to know you name after all? All it needs to know is whether you are eligible for a loan or not. To do that, it needs to access some documents and your credit history. Convention has it that your presence is needed at the bank and documents be presented. 

In the proposed dispensation, only a number needs to be presented at the bank. This can be sent digitally and you may permit the bank to see the documents it may need to view to examine your credit history. If they think it good enough, they can go ahead and process your application. You have the latitude to offer your document to multiple banks at once as well so they can bid for your business. Process done, you can withdraw permissions for them to look at your data again.

What India has to now decide is that if privacy is indeed a fundamental right, then if I decide to move from, say Facebook, to some other platform, can Facebook retain my data from the past? If Indian authorities rule that Facebook (or any entity for that matter) cannot retain my data from the past, and that it belongs to me, the business models of these entities will have to be re-looked at. As things are, it is built on the back of what it knows about me from the past. 

To cite another instance, if you own a fitness tracking device and you stop using the device, the device will not just have to stop tracking your activities, but must hand over your data from the past as well to you. It will then know nothing about you. This is privacy in its purest sense.

On his last visit to Bengaluru, when Bill Gates heard of this, he remarked, “This can kill Facebook.”

When articulated in as many words, the idea sounded unsettling to the Americans, alien to the Europeans, and had those from the Middle East wondering whatever may the implications of all this be. 

I had to leave it at that as an Indian, I stand at an inflection point. Because the issue on hand here is, while the Supreme Court has ruled in favour of privacy as a fundamental right, there is no taking away from the fact that much work remains to be done.

By way of example, as things are, you and I live in the Wild West and much of our future depends on what call the regulatory authorities take. If some more perspective may be needed on why this is the Wild West, the other day, for instance, I saw an ad by a leading financial services company that has just gotten into offering personal loans as well. Until now, it has done very well for itself. The ad claimed if I share my Aadhaar number with them, it can check the backend and tell me in an instant if I am eligible for a loan or not. No paperwork. 

This sounded very disconcerting. All my research has suggested Aadhaar has a very narrow scope. It is a “foundational identity number”. All it does is to tell the other party “I am whom I claim to be”. 

It contains no other information. If they want more details about my name, address, gender and date of birth, they can ask me for those details. I may consent to allow them to view that data stored in an electronic locker called the DigiLocker for a specific period of time. But they cannot download the data, copy it, or disseminate it. That is the how India Stack is architected. So, if anybody suggests they can tell me I am eligible for something basis my Aadhaar number, either their promise is a false one or my research is off the mark. 

Curiosity got the better of me and I clicked the link. A page opened that asked for my mobile number. A one-time password (OTP) was sent to authenticate if the number indeed belonged to me. That done, a page opened up that prompted me to share personal details like where do I live, how much do I earn, and other such assorted things. I filled in some random details. 

When done with sharing, a minute or so later, a screen popped up to suggest I am not eligible for a personal loan. Fair enough. I’m not eligible. That is the company’s call. 

But the larger question here is: what happens to the data it collected about me, from me? It went beyond prompting for my Aadhaar number. Instead, it used my naiveté to use Aadhaar as a tool to willingly part with details about me it may otherwise not have access to. There was no caveat or fine print on what the company plans to do with the data. Will it trade in the data? 

Turns out, it already has. A few hours later, a direct sales agent (DSA) representing a large private bank called me on my mobile phone to pitch a personal loan. And ironically enough, another DSA representing the bank I have my primary account with called to offer me a personal loan and a pitch to open an account as well. The offerings they had was tailored basis the data I had shared a while ago. 

Surely this is proof that my data has been “traded” in violation of the spirit of Aadhaar and India Stack? Regulatory authorities must grapple with the issues on hand. Can I sue the firm that traded my data?

That is why I am keen to hear what the final report of the Srikrishna Committee has to recommend. Ramnath and I believe this report will find its way to the Supreme Court, which in turn may have to rule on the fine print. 

There is much at stake here and I desperately want to the Supreme Court of India to rule in my favour. I don’t want my fundamental right to privacy to remain just on paper. I want to have the latitude in a democracy to move the court and sue an entity that traded my data for a few pennies in the open market. It has compromised me.

Between the Srikrishna Committee and the Supreme Court, I hope they will protect my rights as a citizen of a free country. If they do that, it will have a significant bearing on not just protecting my fundamental rights as a citizen, but to business models that will emerge out of India.

Even as all of these conversations carried on, I had my eye on the gentleman who had delivered the address about Trump’s shenanigans. He was surrounded by many who wanted to talk to him. On his way out, I managed to follow him through the lobby, introduced myself and asked if I may have a word with him. He heard me out for a while, the implications of Aadhaar, the potential of India Stack as a threat to the FANG quartet and its potential implications on big American businesses. I thought I could hear something go off in his head. He got the import of what I was trying to say.

He gave me his business card with his co-ordinates on it, introduced me to his press attaché and suggested we speak on the phone at a later date. This is the kind of thing that has much at stake for too many people across the world. Fingers crossed, the Supreme Court will rule in favour of the people of India.

First published in Mint in December 2017. Copyrights with HT Media