It is a common refrain in our courts - a truth whispered in the hallowed halls and debated fiercely in public discourse - that the judiciary is burdened. The sheer weight of an overflowing docket is something we, the judicial officers, confront every single day. We are often caught between the constitutional mandate of delivering timely justice and the logistical nightmare of a system pushed to its absolute limits.
While much blame is apportioned to the courts, a more systemic truth remains often unaddressed: the disconnect between the legislative branch, which creates new rights and obligations, and the judicial branch, which is left to enforce them without adequate preparation. This is where the concept of judicial impact assessment (JIA) finds its urgent and necessary place.
New laws, procedural amendments and policy decisions are frequently enacted with noble intentions, yet their true institutional cost is rarely calculated. A new statute on environmental protection or a change in matrimonial law might be hailed as a progressive step, but in the process, no one stops to ask: how many new cases will this generate? How many judges, courtrooms and support staff will be required? Where will the funding come from?
For too long, the legislative process in India has operated in a silo, detached from the on-ground realities of its judicial counterpart. The result is a perpetual cycle of legislative overload feeding into judicial backlog. It is not just about the numbers, but about the quality of justice. When a judge is forced to hear fifty or more cases in a single day, the time for nuanced deliberation, for the meticulous consideration of every fact, is inevitably compressed. This is a compromise we are all forced to make and it erodes the very foundations of fair and effective justice.
The idea of a formal JIA is not new to the Indian legal landscape. In fact, its roots can be traced back to the highest judicial authority. The Supreme Court, recognising systemic imbalance, delivered a landmark judgment in the case of Salem Advocates' Association v. Union of India (2005). In its ruling, the Court directed the Union government to establish a mechanism for JIA. It urged that every bill introduced in parliament or the state legislatures should be accompanied by a financial memorandum that accurately estimates the budgetary requirements for the judiciary arising from the new law.
In response to this judicial directive, the government constituted a Task Force on Judicial Impact Assessment under the chairmanship of former Supreme Court Justice M Jagannadha Rao. The 2008 report of this committee was a beacon of foresight. It not only detailed the methodologies for calculating the judicial burden of new legislation, but also recommended the institutionalisation of the process through the establishment of Judicial Impact Offices at both central and state levels. These offices, envisioned as interdisciplinary bodies, would comprise legal experts, statisticians and management professionals to ensure a scientific and holistic assessment.
This exercise is fundamentally rooted in the constitutional scheme:
(a) Article 21 (Right to Life): The right to a speedy trial and timely justice is an inalienable component of Article 21. JIA is an administrative measure designed to ensure that the State’s positive obligation to provide this right is met.
(b) Article 117(3) and 207(3): These articles require a financial memorandum detailing expenditure from the Consolidated Fund of India/State for any bill. The Task Force argued that JIA provides the necessary empirical data to accurately quantify this expenditure as it relates to judicial workload.
(c) Entry 11A of the Concurrent List and Article 247: These provisions pertain to the administration of justice and the power of parliament to establish additional courts for the better administration of laws. JIA offers the evidentiary basis to invoke these powers purposefully.
Long after the Jagannadha Rao Committee report, the grim reality of inaction was starkly highlighted in Shamnad Basheer v. Union of India (2011). The case involved a challenge to the functioning of several tribunals, specifically the Intellectual Property Appellate Board (IPAB). A report prepared for the Madras High Court by Justice Prabha Sridevan exposed a profound failure on the part of the government. It revealed that no JIA had been conducted to assess the resource requirements for the IPAB, leaving the tribunal severely underfunded and under-resourced from its inception. This was not an isolated incident but a microcosm of a larger, systemic malaise, where the creation of specialised legal bodies occurred without the necessary institutional scaffolding, leading to a predictable and disastrous backlog.
In a recent and welcome development, again, in Rojer Mathew v. South Indian Bank (2019), a Constitution Bench directed the Ministry of Law and Justice to conduct a JIA for all tribunals affected by the Finance Act, 2017, emphasising that “absence of such assessment obstructs intelligent legislative action.” The Court's impatience was palpable, noting that "more than three years have since passed and the Ministry of Law and Justice is yet to conduct a judicial impact assessment". The message is clear: the judiciary is asking for a proactive, rather than reactive, approach to its own resourcing.
(A) The Negotiable Instruments Act, 1881
The introduction of Section 138 (cheque dishonour) in the Negotiable Instruments Act, 1988 aimed to ensure commercial discipline, but created an unprecedented litigation surge. According to Supreme Court data, these cases account for one-fourth of all criminal trials in subordinate courts.
In Meters and Instruments (P) Ltd. v. Kanchan Mehta (2018), the Supreme Court acknowledged the crushing burden on magistrates, calling for compounding and ADR measures. Later, in Re: Expeditious Trial of Cases under Section 138 NI Act (2021), the Court directed structural reforms and special courts, essentially a post-facto JIA exercise.
Had a proper assessment been made in 1988, the exponential caseload could have been anticipated, with parallel investment in infrastructure and case management.
(B) The Protection of Children from Sexual Offences (POCSO) Act, 2012
The POCSO Act introduced mandatory registration, time-bound trials and special courts for child victims. Within three years of enactment, these cases formed over 30% of the sessions court docket in several states.
In Alakh Alok Srivastava v. Union of India (2018), the Supreme Court directed the creation of exclusive POCSO courts, observing that implementation lagged behind legislative ambition. If a JIA had preceded the law, the requisite number of courts, trained prosecutors and support staff could have been budgeted from the outset.
(C) The Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act, 2005 (DV Act)
The DV Act introduced a quasi-criminal, quasi-civil mechanism for women’s protection. The Act mandated protection officers, shelter homes, counsellors and judicial oversight by magistrates. However, most states implemented it without proportional staffing, resulting in serious procedural delays.
Judicial data show that over 1.5 lakh DV Act cases remain pending nationally, largely due to inadequate coordination between executive agencies and magistrates’ courts. This is a direct result of legislative enactment without concurrent JIA, demonstrating how resource estimation could have pre-empted systemic backlog.
(D) The Right to Information (RTI) Act, 2005
The RTI Act revolutionised transparency, but it also led to a deluge of writ petitions challenging decisions of information commissions.
The Supreme Court in CBSE v. Aditya Bandopadhyay (2011) noted the administrative burden arising from indiscriminate RTI requests. A pre-legislative JIA could have projected this spillover effect and prompted creation of dedicated RTI benches or alternative dispute mechanisms to handle appeals efficiently.
The implementation of a mandatory JIA framework would bring about a paradigm shift in how justice is administered in India.
1. Efficient and realistic budgeting: For too long, the judiciary has survived on a meagre portion of the national budget, often less than 1%. A JIA would compel the legislature to move beyond a historical approach to budgeting and allocate resources based on a scientific and data-driven projection of need. This would ensure that the financial memorandum attached to every bill is not a mere formality but a genuine reflection of its institutional cost.
2. Strategic resource planning: JIA would enable the judiciary to anticipate future needs, allowing for better planning of court infrastructure, judicial recruitment and support staff. Instead of scrambling to create more courts and fill vacancies in an ad-hoc manner, we could adopt a forward-looking strategy that keeps pace with legislative activity.
3. Accountability in lawmaking: JIA places the onus on lawmakers to consider the full institutional cost of their policy decisions. This would likely lead to more responsible and well-thought-out legislation, perhaps even discouraging frivolous or poorly drafted laws that inevitably clog the court system.
4. Enhanced access to justice: By proactively managing the judicial workload, JIA can help reduce the debilitating delays that plague our system. This is not merely an administrative convenience, but a fundamental imperative of our Constitution - to guarantee the right to speedy justice under Article 21.
Implementing JIA is not without its challenges. Critics have raised valid concerns, including the potential for using "affordability" as an excuse to whittle down rights-based legislation, particularly for marginalised groups. It is a fear that the cost of justice might be used to deny it. However, this is a risk that can be mitigated through transparency and independent oversight. The purpose of JIA is to inform, not to constrain, the expansion of fundamental rights.
The path forward requires a renewed commitment from all branches of government. The legislature must take heed of the repeated directives from the Supreme Court and the insightful recommendations of the Jagannadha Rao Committee. A multi-pronged approach is needed:
Establishment of judicial impact offices: Create dedicated offices at the national and state levels, as envisioned by the Jagannadha Rao Committee, with a clear mandate and interdisciplinary expertise.
Mandatory inclusion in bills: Make it a statutory requirement that every bill presented in parliament and the state legislatures must be accompanied by a detailed JIA report.
Increased data collection: Strengthen the collection and analysis of judicial data through initiatives like the National Judicial Data Grid (NJDG) to ensure accurate forecasting.
From the trenches of the judiciary, where we witness the human cost of institutional inertia every day, the call for JIA is not just an administrative plea; it is a plea for justice itself. It is a plea to look beyond the immediate political gains of new legislation and to consider its long-term impact on the very institution that is tasked with upholding the rule of law. The time for deliberation has passed. The recommendations have been made. Now, the time for decisive action is upon us. To truly serve the citizens of this nation, we must not only create rights but also create the institutional capacity to enforce them. A mandatory JIA is the next logical and necessary step on this long journey towards achieving true and timely justice for all.
Subhadeep Saha is a serving judicial officer of the Civil Judge (Senior Division) cadre in the Tripura Judicial Service.
The views expressed are personal and intended for academic and professional discussion.