In Part I, the authors wrote about the need for the judiciary to be treated as one unified system and the adjournment problem.

The COVID-19 pandemic and resultant prolonged lockdown was an inflexion point in judicial processes. We have never in history seen this kind of a disruption. For all its trauma, the pandemic and lockdown generated seismic transformations in the way courts function. Until then, nobody had thought to deploy the online meeting technologies for court hearings. In fact, the technology was never designed for courts. The thinking was bang-on correct: courts could not shut down. If they could not be held physically, there had to be an alternative. And courts went virtual. Overall, this has been an astonishing success from every perspective: greater access, faster, less expensive, more expansive in reach.

But two vital aspects were missed entirely. One, the need to deploy a standardised and uniform virtual hearing system with standardised operational norms across the entire country. A few courts use the ‘open’ system - all are admitted and allowed to remain so long as their video and audio is off until their case is called. This is most closely replicates an actual court. The other, and more than somewhat bizarre, system is to hand over admission to the hearing to a court master only when the case is called. This is like making everyone huddle outside the court hall and having someone open the door only when the case is called. Physical courts do not work like this. Why should virtual ones? And what happened to ‘access to justice’? It is every citizen’s right to go to a court if only to observe a proceeding. There is no logic to this restricted access system. Even worse, some courts do not allow virtual hearings at all. The resultant confusion is entirely self-created and wholly self-defeating.

The second missed opportunity was to think about Plan C. If Plan A was the physical court system and Plan B was the digital/virtual system, what is Plan C if something breaks down in the digital functioning of courts? We simply have no answer to this. It is a disaster waiting to happen. Without our digital systems, there will be no causelists any longer. Digital files cannot be retrieved. Physical files cannot be identified. This is not a matter that can be left to individual High Courts or be dependent on frequently tight-fisted state governments for funding. Every court must have a remote off-site full backup system in place - air gapped, firewalled, secured and ready to deploy in an instant if the main system goes down, as it no doubt will.

It is precisely in our processes that we need to deploy more extensive and intensive digitalised processes. This is not about converting paper to digital; that is only a good method of replacing form and merely having digital data is no improvement. The matter of substance is to convert analog processes to digitalised ones. Every single judge in this country has routinely encountered a problem of papers being reported ‘unserved’; and the routine order is ‘Await service. List after xx weeks’, where xx is a double-digit number.

Imagine, instead, if the papers were transmitted electronically to the nearest local court of first instance, only printed there, served through the local bailiff of that court and, with a handheld 4G or 5G device, the service was reported back in real time to the originating court. Imagine the speed of possible disposal - especially if you marry this with the facility for online appearances from remote locations. To be sure, this neither a trivial problem nor an easy solution. There are complex angles to this, not the least of which is the matter of confidentiality and privacy. But again, how does it help not to address the problem?

It brings to the fore a statement that Senior Advocate Mukul Rohtagi has been making repeatedly for some time now: that no amount of chatter about digital files and new judges will make a jot of difference unless the processes are reformed.

One of the key discussion points in later meetings with an expanded group that included four retired judges focussed on the conditions of judges. Our colleagues in the district judiciary are expected to function to exemplary standards while encountering two fundamental obstacles: thoroughly inadequate and sub-standard infrastructure (with not even minimum standards met) and a constant onslaught in their periodic performance reviews. This is not about pay scales, though Justice Dipankar Datta of the Supreme Court has recently been at some pains to point out that at current levels, it is impossible to attract top-drawer talent from the Bar.

Rather, it is about addressing the human condition. This is also an integral part of the reforms. The annual performance metrics used in the judiciary are not just oppressive, but in some cases, comical. How does one assign ‘marks’ for how well a district judges ‘gets along’ with her staff or colleagues? In these performance metrics, everything is reduced to a number and there is very little attention paid to a more meaningful qualitative analysis.

Equally, there must be a system of moving pedestrian administrative work away from judges, freeing them to do what only judges can do: judging. Presently, judges at a certain level of seniority are required to spend vast amounts of time, which they do not have and which is over and above their judicial work, in supervising routine procurement contracts. There already exist, or should exist, government-level procurement processes and norms. There is no reason a High Court judge should spend even one minute looking at the technical specifications or standard forms and clauses in a tender for supply of laptops or computers.

The recruitment process involve wearying interviews and selections and judges are often required to literally abandon their judicial posts to be able to handle these. The processes need simplification and standardisation to free up judges’ time for judging to the maximum extent possible instead of loading additional and often vapid routine administrative tasks on them.

The UK has a dedicated service - HM Courts and Tribunals Service or HMCTS. This agency is responsible for the administration of criminal, civil and family courts and tribunals: everything from transcription to prisoner escort and more. Of course, the idea is not to create another lumbering government elephantine system but one that is nimble and responsive. The Chief Justice’s very recent calls for courts to work like hospitals round-the-clock tells us why such a service is surely imperative, as part of a process makeover.

Who benefits from refusing reform? Why should anyone care? Why should the government care? Again, the answers are right before us and need not be laboured: delays hurt everyone at every level, from the poorest litigant chasing a pension problem to the large investor or corporate. The government, which, as Justice Nagarathna said, is the single largest litigant in the country (you only have to see the list of pending writ petitions and the volume of filings by or against the government for an answer) suffers just as much. Its time and money is locked into endless battles. At a policy level, a system in such a state of disorder cannot possibly hope to attract investment or achieve growth.

While there have been sporadic calls for commissions focused on specific aspects - judicial appointments, infrastructure, or tribunal rationalisation -this appears to be the first time a sitting Supreme Court judge has advocated for a body envisaging holistic transformation of our judicial institutions.

The timing could not be more critical. Our courts face a crisis of legitimacy born not of judicial impropriety, but of institutional dysfunction. Over 5 crore cases languish across all levels of our judiciary. Litigants wait decades for resolution. Our processes are complex and outdated. The infrastructure in many district courts would shame a developing nation, let alone the world's largest democracy. Our technology adoption remains patchy and grudging. These are not secrets; they are lived realities for millions of Indians denied timely justice.

We do not need to belabour the case for judicial reforms; the statistics speak with devastating clarity. What bears examination is why, despite consensus on the problem, we have failed to act systemically. The answer lies in our approach. Judicial reforms in India have been episodic passion projects of individual judges or Chief Justices - brilliant initiatives that flourish during one tenure and wither thereafter. The e-Courts project, case management pilots, mediation centres, Lok Adalats - each represents genuine innovation, yet none has been scaled or sustained with the rigour it deserves.

The fundamental flaw is the absence of an institutional home for reform: a body empowered to take a comprehensive, long-term view of judicial transformation, insulated from the vicissitudes of individual tenures and equipped with the expertise, resources and authority to drive change.

A properly constituted National Judicial Reforms Commission - one that sits outside the Law Commission and does not have as its remit substantive legislative changes - could address the full spectrum of challenges confronting our justice delivery system. As noted above, process reforms for our procedural codes, despite some recent attempts, remain artifacts of a different era. The Commission could undertake systematic review of civil and criminal procedure, drawing on comparative experience and empirical data on what actually expedites justice. It could pilot and scale case management innovations, differentiated case tracks and early resolution mechanisms.

The human resources problem transcends numbers. We need structured career development for judges, continuous judicial education aligned with evolving legal domains, performance feedback mechanisms that improve without threatening independence and wellness programs for judges operating under crushing workloads. The Commission could develop a comprehensive HR framework the judiciary currently lacks.

Court infrastructure varies wildly from state to state, district to district. The Commission should ensure court buildings meet standards and have reliable electricity and connectivity that support cloud computing architecture, cybersecurity frameworks and data centres. It's capital-intensive, long-lived (10-15 year life cycles) and relatively stable. The Commission could establish minimum standards and coordinate with state governments on infrastructure upgrades.

Technology, particularly in the AI age, can be truly transformative. The Commission can help evolve coherent technology strategy - not merely digitising existing dysfunction, but reimagining workflows for the digital age. AI-powered legal research tools, predictive analytics for case management, natural language processing for translation, document analysis algorithms, virtual hearing platforms. Technology evolves rapidly, requires continuous user training and raises profound questions infrastructure never did - those of algorithmic bias, explainability, ethical guardrails.

Perhaps most critically, the Commission must address barriers that keep justice beyond the reach of the marginalised: geographic distance to courts, language barriers, cost of representation and procedural complexity. This requires thinking beyond traditional courts to mobile courts, video conferencing, plain language forms and integration with legal aid.

Why independence from the Law Commission? The Law Commission illustrates critical limitations. Its recommendations, however brilliant, are advisory. Implementation depends on governmental will and legislative capacity. Many landmark reports gather dust. The Judicial Reforms Commission must be designed differently - not merely as an advisory body producing reports, but as an institution empowered to drive implementation collaboratively with the judiciary, the Bar and governments.

We need not reinvent the wheel. The United Kingdom's Judicial College provides continuing education for judges with remarkable sophistication. The Courts and Tribunals Judiciary has a dedicated Strategy and Planning team driving reform. Singapore's judiciary has systematically transformed itself through technology and process innovation. The United States' Federal Judicial Center combines research, education and system improvement.

These models vary, but share common elements: dedicated professional staff with expertise in public administration, technology and change management; structured engagement with judges, lawyers and court users; authority to pilot reforms and scale what works; and accountability for outcomes, not merely activities.

Justice Nagarathna's call for a Commission should catalyse action, but we must be clear-eyed about institutional design. A talking shop will not suffice. To introduce an action bias, consideration should be given to establishing, in parallel with or as part of the Commission, a National Judicial Transformation Office - a lean, empowered unit with mandated milestones and deliverables over a defined timeframe, perhaps 3-5 years.

This office would work collaboratively with Chief Justices, High Court committees, the district judiciary, bar associations and state governments, but with clear responsibility for achieving measurable outcomes: percentage reduction in pendency, infrastructure standards met, technology adoption rates, litigant satisfaction metrics.

The immediate next steps are clear. First, the Chief Justice of India, in consultation with brother and sister judges and the Bar, should constitute an expert committee to develop a detailed proposal for the Judicial Reforms Commission's mandate, composition, powers and relationship with existing institutions. This Committee should report within 3 months.

Second, the executive must be engaged with constructively. While judicial independence is sacrosanct, effective reform requires governmental partnership - legal amendments may be necessary, budgetary commitments are certainly essential.

Third, a 6-month action plan could include: finalising the Commission's architecture; identifying quick wins (low-hanging fruit) to build momentum; launching pilot projects in willing High Courts; establishing baseline metrics against which progress will be measured; and beginning stakeholder consultations to ensure the Commission enjoys broad legitimacy.

Justice Nagarathna's call is not merely timely; it may represent a watershed moment. For too long, we have known what ails our judicial system without mustering the institutional will to cure it. A properly designed Judicial Reforms Commission, empowered to act and accountable for results, could finally bridge the gap between diagnosis and treatment.

The question is whether this moment will be seized or squandered. As judges, we have a professional obligation. As citizens, we have a democratic stake. The health of our constitutional democracy depends on a judiciary that delivers justice - not someday, not eventually, but within the lifetime of those who seek it. That requires not passion alone, but institutions. The time to build them is now.

Justice Gautam Patel is a former judge of the Bombay High Court.

Harish Narasappa is a Senior Advocate practicing at the Karnataka High Court and co-founder of DAKSH.

BS Surya Prakash is Fellow and Programme Director at DAKSH.

Leah Verghese is Research Manager at DAKSH.