This article is the second in a three-part series on judicial transformation based on the experience of PUCAR (Public Collective for Avoidance and Resolution of Disputes).

Every reform runs on beliefs it has never examined. In judicial reform, these beliefs are particularly consequential, because they determine who the process is designed for, who is assumed to be the obstacle and what kind of change is even considered possible.

These beliefs are rarely stated. They don't need to be, because they feel like common sense. The accused will delay. Lawyers will resist. Technology will transform. But common sense is often just an untested belief that has been around long enough to seem obvious. And when our assumptions are wrong, they don't just produce bad solutions; they produce solutions aimed at the wrong people, built on the wrong priorities, waiting for the wrong conditions before they can begin.

While working to transform the resolution experience of cheque dishonour disputes, we discovered some dominant beliefs shaping the system were  both imprecise and misleading.

Each one turned out to be false on closer examination. And each time we let go of one, something unexpected opened up.

A common assumption suggests that all accused individuals seek to prolong the legal process to buy time for settling debts or arranging payments. This belief quietly shapes system design. Why invest in digital notifications if people will just ignore them?

In the early days of Bharatiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita (BNSS) implementation, practitioners reported that one in three individuals that showed up did so with a notice or at the first summons – no police, no warrants required. Many accused want to resolve matters quickly. What they often lack is clear respectful notices through accessible channels and the ability to directly communicate with the complainant.

In a mobile society, relying solely on postal addresses is inadequate. Integrating phone and email, sending an SMS early in the process - these are small changes that shift the dynamic entirely. When people feel informed and respected, they engage. 

A related belief holds that court systems are built primarily to serve lawyers and that lawyers, benefiting from the current system, will oppose any reform that empowers litigants directly.

We were surprised to find the opposite. When litigants began receiving direct updates about their case status, payment deadlines and next hearing dates, lawyers welcomed it. Far from feeling undermined, lawyers were relieved. Proactive communication eliminated the constant need to update clients manually. One told us: "Now, if I ask for an adjournment, my client knows." Their feedback consistently pushed for more reform, not less: digitising vakalatnamas, streamlining affidavits, making the whole process more seamless.

The more honest truth is that courts as they stand are not designed for anyone. Lawyers in district courts spend large parts of their day waiting - filing applications, running between counters, searching for information. Their experience is tedious and mundane. What we found is that almost everyone wants a better system. What they need is to be supported through the transition and the assurance that it won't make their lives harder.

It's tempting to believe that technology is the answer. Better software, smarter dashboards, AI-powered tools. If we just had new software, we can drive transformation. 

Court performance improves when those leading it committed to sustained, granular attention - to what the data was saying about summons returns, bail patterns, adjournments - and to continuously adjusting rules, capacity and technology design in response. That attention shows up in small ways: noticing that adjournments marked “accused in hospital” and “counsel forgot documents” should not have the same default gap to the next hearing. Small frictions need rule changes; sitting with clerks to understand why something that seemed like a good idea on paper feels clumsy in practice.

We need leadership teams and good governance systems that are willing to look closely, listen carefully and keep adjusting. In that sense, attention – to people and patterns – is the real engine of reform. Technology can support this kind of attention. 

The assumption here is simple: litigants want their cases over as quickly as possible. Design for speed and you design for satisfaction. What we found is more nuanced. Litigants do not simply want speed; they want a sense of movement. The feeling that something is happening, that their matter has not been forgotten, that the process is alive. This intuitively makes sense to anyone stuck in city traffic.

In practice, this meant that reducing the time between hearings mattered more than reducing the number of hearings. When the average gap between dates falls, litigants remain engaged - even when cases are adjourned. When a party needed time to file a vakalatnama, three days felt responsive in a way that three months never could. Short intervals kept all actors present and accountable.

When litigants know the next date is close, the cost of an adjournment falls and so does the incentive to seek one strategically. Rather than capping the number of adjournments or imposing penalties, the simpler lever is simply compressing the time between hearings. Sending timely updates about summons status, mediator reports and hearing dates reinforces this sense of movement further. It makes progress visible even when the case is technically waiting.

The entire architecture of the court process rests on a single assumption: that all parties - judge, lawyers, litigants - must be present at the same time (physically or virtually) for anything to move forward. This made sense when courts were entirely physical. It makes far less sense now.

We live and work asynchronously. We write, respond, approve and decide on our own schedules. Regulatory bodies like the RBI and SEBI have long recognised this, allowing actors to submit documents and receive decisions within defined timeframes rather than requiring simultaneous presence. Courts have been slower to follow. 

Judges should be able to take cognizance of cases, reissue warrants and set bail terms asynchronously. Additionally, parties should be able to request rescheduling, file surety or vakalatnama and submit mediation reports asynchronously, with judges considering these requests within a defined timeframe. This shift could significantly reduce coordination costs, radically increase effective hearings and the efficiency of court processes. Synchronous hearings should be reserved for instances where they are absolutely essential, such as cross-examinations, arguments, instances requiring real time exchange.

When the locus of action is no longer confined to a 'hearing’, we will see radical improvement in effective hearings and efficiency of the court processes.

Challenging a belief changes who you design for, who you choose to work with and what you allow yourself to attempt.

These shifts don’t require new legislation or large budgets. They require a  willingness to ask, plainly and without defensiveness: is what we believe actually true?

That question - asked seriously and tested honestly - may be the most powerful reform tool we have.

Supriya Sankaran is the co-founder of Agami and PUCAR.

Siddarth Raman is Senior Research Lead at XKDR Forum.