Srinath Sridharan On His Book 'Time for Bharat' | IBLF 2023 - Mumbai Chapter

A book on public governance is a very boring, dry topic. Why write on public governance? Typically we expect bureaucrats or think tanks or academicians to write or read about it. But guess what—we're one-sixth of the world's humanity. When I look back, I've been fortunate to have been educated and to have made my name and wealth in this country, despite all the idiosyncrasies and challenges. It's great to talk about Digital India, Startup India, promoting entrepreneurship, but my generation did not have most of those advantages. We came up despite everything. That doesn't mean everything is good and all is well—somebody has to ask those questions. All of us have ideas. If we shy away from public policy—and by the way, I'm not a think tank guy, I'm a corporate guy—we all know we've lived with shades of gray. That's the dilemma. If you write a book, it'll be very salacious, all our experiences, which we can't afford. But we must question. I wanted to write a book—this is a journey with other co-authors, and each of us have a different motive and different stage in life. I've been asked: you're too young to write a book on public governance. He's been asked that by somebody pretty senior in the business domain. My point was: I'm very proud of the journey India has given us, but it doesn't mean everything is right. We have to raise those questions. Why is it that we are able to send low-cost rockets to space, yet we can't fix potholes on the road? We have to start questioning everything. For me, it's a very personal journey—what do I tell my daughters? It's not about the name or the money; it's about standing for something. That was my motivation: let's re-look at India, re-look at Bharat. It's been a civilization with tremendous efforts from our ancestors. For example, COVID—suddenly cleaning our hands, sanitizer. Our traditions always had that: wash your feet when you walked in home, clean your hands. And yet we put it on a pedestal and said, 'Hey, it's fancy.' So we're saying: look back. Our traditions and native intelligence have a lot of wisdom we have forgotten.

That's true. I don't wear the hat of a marketer, so we don't dissect India as the rich and the poor, the illiterate. I keep joking that India has more keypad-literate than actually literate citizens today—that's real India. The moment we say Bharat, we think in Sanskrit, we think saffron. By the way, I've been accused—people asked me, 'Did the party fund you? Did you write it for somebody?' I just picked the color I liked, not because somebody funded me. This has been a self-funded project. The book has zero royalty—so the publisher and Amazon make money, and the authors don't. We said if you have a public governance idea, leave it out free. The conversation about Bharat is: we're the only country in the world where the Constitution has two names—'India, that is Bharat.' If you're changing the name of Mumbai from Bombay, Chennai, Bengaluru—take a call. If India is going to be borrowed, so be it, but take a stand. That is why I'm saying: go to Bharat. Bharat is not about religion, it's not about linguistic differences. Bharat as a concept is 25,000 years of civilizational ethos. It predates a lot of our religions. We are very plural. Within a household in India, it's common to see the mother devoted to Ganpati or the father saying he's a Shiv bhakt. People can have different ideologies. We have had those tolerances, and the narrative has changed over time. Why did we lose that basic tolerance? That is why I'm saying: go back to the roots of Bharat. Don't divide Bharat between India and Bharat.

If I were to draw an analogy from modern HR books, it speaks about purpose. If you speak about values, it talks about vision. Spirituality is nothing but all this. Religion is not necessarily spirituality—each of us might find our own roots. What's your root? What is it that balances you, being ethical, being moral? In the modern context, we all are kind of two-faced. We have a personal ethic different from professional ethic. I won't cheat my company by putting fake vouchers, but I don't mind paying 100 bucks to the constable at the traffic light. We all have that two-facedness, and yet we rationalize it. So I'm saying: let's go back. If you don't have a sense of purpose and values, no religion can help—it's just mumbo jumbo and ritual. Which is why this book is based on: can we go back to awakening our spiritual senses? It doesn't speak about a single philosophy—it's a principle. Each of us has to find our own roots.

A lot of these -isms start with financial divide. Why is it that we all are sitting in this fancy esplanade discussing a book, when we could have sat in a small tapri with our chai on the road? When we speak about poverty, my fear for my next generation is that our politicians will continue to divide us on the basis of poverty and not discuss urban issues. There is nothing wrong in saying I want to be wealthy. We still have that problem where phones are seen as a luxury item. Can we move out of all this? If you want to play the global role we aspire to—G20 or whatnot—what happened at G20? We simply covered all the slums and roads with nice vinyls. I am saying: solve for it. There's nothing wrong in being prosperous. If you want $10,000 or $15,000 GDP per capita, it has to be inclusive. Today we have aggregate growth but not inclusive growth.

It's very simple. Another conversation we've not written in the book: we nearly lost the patents for basmati rice. All we're saying is: stand up for your right. Don't let somebody else trample in. This is a world where the crying baby gets milk. Even as a country, if you don't say what you have, somebody is going to claim it as their own. Most of our multilateral organizations are not controlled by India, which means the narrative becomes a Western narrative. If you want to stand up for what you have—be it math, Vedic sciences, or whatever—claim it. Claim it before you can't reclaim it.

It has to cut across everything. We generally speak about gender—I mean, Anita spoke about gender. I call it flavor of the season. Every two or three years, our policymakers or politicians keep changing that flavor. Flavors can change, but basic necessity—look at society. It could be gender, orientation, ideology, religion, anything. Why is it that you are different from me? We are all equals. If you're a believer in God, they say we're all equal in front of God. But the fact is, we're all living things, and nothing is controlled. COVID for me was a wake-up moment. I knew friends who were millionaires and billionaires who couldn't get access to an oxygen tent, couldn't get a doctor. If that doesn't change your mind about being equal, you really don't deserve a conversation at all.

Can it really be done? I think so. If there's intent, we have shown so many things were possible in the last five or six years. It is about intent and context. Affirmative actions give reactions. I always call it the new M&M—keep your stakeholders in motion and action so that they don't complain, they don't crib. Keep them engaged. If you say, 'I'm going to give the next 10 years, by which the current generation will have its education, and the reservation policy will end—it will apply only for the economically weaker,' why do you need a reservation policy for somebody who could not afford access? Ability to pay—that's it. Keep it open for everybody. Don't make it caste-based, cost-based, community-based. We think we've moved away from caste and community, but I can tell you it is still very much alive across our country. I've stopped being shocked when somebody asks my surname. I've been preached at for not having a surname, for not thinking about my religion—by people who don't know me from Adam. But it's almost a birthright people take when it comes to caste and religion. If you don't put an end to it, when will it end? How do we call ourselves literate? Educational literacy and actual literacy have no correlation at all. We need to wake up.

I think it worked for politics. It didn't work for society. I think we have to accept that.

Good question. The very fact—the dress code I'm wearing—I think ten years ago I would not have worn this for a formal meeting. I would have been in a western suit and a tie. But somewhere we saw the Prime Minister taking that leap of faith. Until then, leaders were not fashionable—they were boring. Take pride in your country. Today you look at Davos pictures—a lot of Indian leaders are in Indian clothing. I think we'll have to simply look back at our own culture and go back to those questions. Can we get change done? I think it's up to all of us. I'll give you a simple example. A senior leader in the Mumbai administration—once I was having dinner with him, and I complained that my local area things don't get done, I'm very active, I meet the local officer. He said, 'You guys will never get it done.' I said, 'Can I escalate it to you?' He said, 'I'm too senior for this to be escalated.' And he gave me a simple challenge, which I have not been able to meet until now. He said, 'From your locality, can you get five CEOs along with you, and you name the department you want in the state—I will get them in front of you.' The challenge was: he said, all of you are so busy. If you want something for your factory or office, you will come and meet me. But if it is about simple civic administration—roads, nalas—none of you turn up, because most of you can afford to go to a fancy hotel and leave town. Look at the state of administrative mess we are in as a city. So I think it all depends on all of us. If we don't question, we deserve what we get. All of us are supposedly educated, with access, with contacts. Otherwise, we are no different from an anonymous social media post cribbing and crying. If you want something, stand up and be counted. Yes, there could be repercussions. This book, Time for Bharat, is only a provocation—there are probably a hundred ideas across various sectors. But all we're saying is it's only a few. We are a billion people—there could be a billion ideas. Unless we test it locally, we don't deserve this India.

Thanks to COVID, everybody was more empathetic and patient. You realize that a lot of times things don't go our way—for example, deadlines. You would think, 'I want this article on this time,' and it won't happen. You just realize some things are not meant to be. We had four more people who dropped out during COVID—health incidences at home. You just realize: make good work with what you have, keep nudging. Every individual is different—we have to learn that people need different approaches.

The trick is adding passions. If you are passionate about something, you will always make time. Time is the biggest convenient excuse most of us give. For those who don't know—from a reverse mentor many years ago, I gave up a computer. I have not used a computer in the last nine years. This book was done on my phone. I type all my op-eds on the phone when I walk. He can type without looking at the phone! You just realize that if you really want to do something, that's maximizing time. I finish my morning walk—that's a great one hour, fresh thoughts, no disturbance—and I type on the phone. I don't dictate because I figured out I'm not a good editor. I'm a thinker and a writer, but if I dictate and have to re-edit, it upsets my rhythm. You'll have to figure out what works for you, and then the rest is magic.

Straightforward. I believe each of these ideas we've presented is doable. It won't happen overnight, and the intent is very simple. It may not happen in my lifetime, but unless you keep asking and challenging the status quo, it will never get done. For example, COVID warriors—the way we fought COVID. Remember, we all banged the thali plate, but ultimately it was vaccine and helpers. It is a sense of optimism. Imagine a nation standing on the balcony doing that—do we delude ourselves? No. We have to try what works, otherwise we will not be the land of snake charmers and magicians and tantrics also.