Naming and shaming

Ratna Raman 

RULES exist in order to set and mark boundaries. The rule book sets the perimeters of civic life. Yet, of late, “white collar crimes” (non-violent crimes committed by respectable people) have revealed abuse of office or authority by the powerful. Rules in such situations have allowed for many uncomfortable details “to be swept under the carpet” (to ignore or conceal).

Recently at the Supreme Court, the hearing of petitions by a Bench of judges was re-allotted by none other than the Chief Justice himself. Normally, if a petition names any particular member of the judiciary, the judge is meant to “recuse” (stay out of the hearing) himself. Drawing upon the argument that the right to preside over a hearing and choose who will form part of the board rests with the Chief Justice of India, the CJ declared himself to be the “master  of the roster” (schedule).   

This is a “piquant” (intriguing) situation. If a person who is complicit  can also function as “judge and jury” (making all decisions pertaining to fact and law), we need to conclude that  “loopholes” (ambiguity) exist in the laws we have framed. 

Given such contexts, it becomes useful to look at the possibilities provided by older cultural practices of “naming and shaming”. This involves saying publicly that a person or a company has behaved incorrectly. Earlier, authority figures in smaller social units singled out offenders who were humiliated or shamed. Recently, overzealous officials of Swacch Bharat used it to name and shame people in order to end open defecation. Naming and shaming can’t operate as part of a “hegemonic” (ruling by the dominant) exercise to victimise the helpless. 

 When a system based on rational rules and relying on empirical evidence does not address issues of non-compliance on the part of the powerful, what options exist? When rules fail us, naming and shaming is possibly a resource, although it can never replace procedure or detailed investigation.

The RBI policy of publicly naming “wilful defaulters who have taken banks for a ride” (cheating on  repayment) put a list of offenders in the dock. Little money came back, proving that naming and shaming has “no bite” (efficacy) as part of any official programme of redress. In matters dealing with the abuse of power or office, however, naming and shaming can provide checks and balances in the case of non-monetary crimes, committed by the rich and the powerful. 

Naming and shaming on social media has drawn attention to the misdemeanour of powerful and influential men in politics, entertainment, sport and academia. Can it enable self-assessment and introspection?  Could the implicated respond in the high tradition of “kar seva” (voluntary service) enabling serious exchanges that could transform an atmosphere of cynicism and fear? Else these modern mechanisms of naming and shaming will remain cautionary warnings that will replace the smog of gossip and intrigue that continues to envelop public life at large.