<p>When the Right to Information (RTI) Act was enacted in 2005, India took a historic step towards democratic accountability. Emerging from a grassroots movement led by Aruna Roy and the Mazdoor Kisan Shakti Sangathan (MKSS), the law declared transparency a citizen’s right, not a privilege. For a while, it worked. Public Information Officers were compelled to release long-hidden records, commissions acted as independent tribunals, and corruption was exposed across sectors. For millions, the RTI became a cheap, quick, and effective weapon.</p>.<p>Two decades later, that optimism has dimmed. The “sunshine legislation” now lies battered by neglect and manipulation. As of June 30, 2024, over 4.05 lakh appeals and complaints were pending across 29 information commissions. Maharashtra led with 1.08 lakh cases. In several states, commissions have remained headless for years, their disposal rates so slow they would take decades to clear the backlog – a mockery of the 30-day limit prescribed by law.</p>.<p>Independent surveys confirm the dysfunction. Seven commissions were defunct for extended periods, and many returned 40% of appeals without hearings, often citing minor procedural lapses. Penalties were imposed in less than 5% of proven violations, and some commissions would need over 24 years to clear current backlogs. Annual report cards on RTI implementation show that proactive disclosures are ignored by most departments, revealing administrative decay and official indifference to transparency.</p>.<p>This collapse is both bureaucratic and political. Vacancies persist in the Central Information Commission, while states starve their commissions of staff and funds. States such as Jharkhand, Tripura, Telangana, and Goa have at times had no commissioners, leaving citizens without an appellate authority.</p>.<p>At the operational level, Public Information Officers routinely ignore or delay responses. Many fail even to acknowledge applications within 30 days, and those who reply often provide incomplete or evasive information. Though commissions can penalise errant officials, this power is rarely used.</p>.<p>Legal and administrative changes have blunted the law’s edge. Amendments and judicial interpretations have widened exemptions under vague terms like “personal information” and “national security”. The 2019 amendment empowered the government to fix commissioners’ tenure and salaries, compromising autonomy. The Digital Personal Data Protection (DPDP) Act further blurs the line between privacy and public interest, allowing authorities to withhold data in the name of confidentiality.</p>.<p>Administrative incapacity worsens the rot. Many departments still rely on manual record-keeping; digital platforms are patchy and outdated. PIOs cite overwork and lack of training – excuses that underline systemic apathy. Even mandatory annual reports assessing RTI performance are often unpublished.</p>.<p>The human cost is grim. More than 70 RTI activists have been killed since 2005, and many more threatened or attacked. Their courage, while exposing corruption, has also provoked violent retaliation.</p>.<p>At its core, the decline reflects the discomfort of the political class with accountability. Governments at both the Centre and state levels prefer opacity because information threatens patronage networks and exposes misuse of funds. When transparency begins to bite, the instinct is to blunt it. Political convenience, not public interest, shapes their approach.</p>.<p>Promise and takeaways</p>.<p>The judiciary’s record is uneven. Some courts uphold disclosure, but others broaden exemptions. Appeals are often dismissed on trivial technicalities like a missing signature, forcing citizens to restart the process. The RTI, meant to empower, now exhausts ordinary applicants. The deepening crisis has drawn warnings from former Supreme Court judge Justice Madan B. Lokur, who cautioned that at the current pace of neglect, the RTI could face “virtual extinction within five or six years.”</p>.<p>What once empowered citizens to expose corruption now frustrates them with red tape. Instead of cleansing governance, the RTI has been reduced to a bureaucratic ritual – an illusion of openness without substance. This decay represents not just the death of a law but the betrayal of a democratic ethic that values the citizen’s right to know.</p>.<p>In contrast, democracies such as the United States and the United Kingdom nurture stronger information regimes. The UK’s Freedom of Information Act, enforced by an independent Information Commissioner’s Office, mandates strict timelines and proactive publication. The US Freedom of Information Act binds federal agencies to release records within fixed deadlines, subject to minimal exemptions.</p>.<p>Yet, all is not lost. The spirit that birthed the RTI still flickers. Grassroots groups continue to use it to monitor ration shops, panchayat spending, and welfare schemes. Some courts have reaffirmed the citizen’s right to know, and online portals have widened access.</p>.<p>Appointments to information commissions must be transparent, time-bound, and insulated from executive interference. Penalty provisions need rigorous enforcement; proactive disclosure under Section 4 must be ensured; and attacks on RTI users should be addressed with a fast-tracked, dedicated mechanism.</p>.<p>Twenty years after its birth, the law faces uncertain times. It is ironic that the State which enacted the law now presides over its decay. The RTI Act began as a beacon of hope, promising to cleanse governance. Bureaucratic gaps and political expediency have derailed the promise. Yet, even a flicker can be revived. To restore it will not merely mean defending a statute; it will be about reclaiming democracy’s most essential truth: that citizens have the right to know what is done in their name.</p>.<p>(The writer is a senior political analyst and strategic affairs columnist based in Shimla)</p>.<p>Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.<br></p>
<p>When the Right to Information (RTI) Act was enacted in 2005, India took a historic step towards democratic accountability. Emerging from a grassroots movement led by Aruna Roy and the Mazdoor Kisan Shakti Sangathan (MKSS), the law declared transparency a citizen’s right, not a privilege. For a while, it worked. Public Information Officers were compelled to release long-hidden records, commissions acted as independent tribunals, and corruption was exposed across sectors. For millions, the RTI became a cheap, quick, and effective weapon.</p>.<p>Two decades later, that optimism has dimmed. The “sunshine legislation” now lies battered by neglect and manipulation. As of June 30, 2024, over 4.05 lakh appeals and complaints were pending across 29 information commissions. Maharashtra led with 1.08 lakh cases. In several states, commissions have remained headless for years, their disposal rates so slow they would take decades to clear the backlog – a mockery of the 30-day limit prescribed by law.</p>.<p>Independent surveys confirm the dysfunction. Seven commissions were defunct for extended periods, and many returned 40% of appeals without hearings, often citing minor procedural lapses. Penalties were imposed in less than 5% of proven violations, and some commissions would need over 24 years to clear current backlogs. Annual report cards on RTI implementation show that proactive disclosures are ignored by most departments, revealing administrative decay and official indifference to transparency.</p>.<p>This collapse is both bureaucratic and political. Vacancies persist in the Central Information Commission, while states starve their commissions of staff and funds. States such as Jharkhand, Tripura, Telangana, and Goa have at times had no commissioners, leaving citizens without an appellate authority.</p>.<p>At the operational level, Public Information Officers routinely ignore or delay responses. Many fail even to acknowledge applications within 30 days, and those who reply often provide incomplete or evasive information. Though commissions can penalise errant officials, this power is rarely used.</p>.<p>Legal and administrative changes have blunted the law’s edge. Amendments and judicial interpretations have widened exemptions under vague terms like “personal information” and “national security”. The 2019 amendment empowered the government to fix commissioners’ tenure and salaries, compromising autonomy. The Digital Personal Data Protection (DPDP) Act further blurs the line between privacy and public interest, allowing authorities to withhold data in the name of confidentiality.</p>.<p>Administrative incapacity worsens the rot. Many departments still rely on manual record-keeping; digital platforms are patchy and outdated. PIOs cite overwork and lack of training – excuses that underline systemic apathy. Even mandatory annual reports assessing RTI performance are often unpublished.</p>.<p>The human cost is grim. More than 70 RTI activists have been killed since 2005, and many more threatened or attacked. Their courage, while exposing corruption, has also provoked violent retaliation.</p>.<p>At its core, the decline reflects the discomfort of the political class with accountability. Governments at both the Centre and state levels prefer opacity because information threatens patronage networks and exposes misuse of funds. When transparency begins to bite, the instinct is to blunt it. Political convenience, not public interest, shapes their approach.</p>.<p>Promise and takeaways</p>.<p>The judiciary’s record is uneven. Some courts uphold disclosure, but others broaden exemptions. Appeals are often dismissed on trivial technicalities like a missing signature, forcing citizens to restart the process. The RTI, meant to empower, now exhausts ordinary applicants. The deepening crisis has drawn warnings from former Supreme Court judge Justice Madan B. Lokur, who cautioned that at the current pace of neglect, the RTI could face “virtual extinction within five or six years.”</p>.<p>What once empowered citizens to expose corruption now frustrates them with red tape. Instead of cleansing governance, the RTI has been reduced to a bureaucratic ritual – an illusion of openness without substance. This decay represents not just the death of a law but the betrayal of a democratic ethic that values the citizen’s right to know.</p>.<p>In contrast, democracies such as the United States and the United Kingdom nurture stronger information regimes. The UK’s Freedom of Information Act, enforced by an independent Information Commissioner’s Office, mandates strict timelines and proactive publication. The US Freedom of Information Act binds federal agencies to release records within fixed deadlines, subject to minimal exemptions.</p>.<p>Yet, all is not lost. The spirit that birthed the RTI still flickers. Grassroots groups continue to use it to monitor ration shops, panchayat spending, and welfare schemes. Some courts have reaffirmed the citizen’s right to know, and online portals have widened access.</p>.<p>Appointments to information commissions must be transparent, time-bound, and insulated from executive interference. Penalty provisions need rigorous enforcement; proactive disclosure under Section 4 must be ensured; and attacks on RTI users should be addressed with a fast-tracked, dedicated mechanism.</p>.<p>Twenty years after its birth, the law faces uncertain times. It is ironic that the State which enacted the law now presides over its decay. The RTI Act began as a beacon of hope, promising to cleanse governance. Bureaucratic gaps and political expediency have derailed the promise. Yet, even a flicker can be revived. To restore it will not merely mean defending a statute; it will be about reclaiming democracy’s most essential truth: that citizens have the right to know what is done in their name.</p>.<p>(The writer is a senior political analyst and strategic affairs columnist based in Shimla)</p>.<p>Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.<br></p>