Tribune Exclusive: Justice must touch gently, for law that cannot feel, cannot heal, says Justice Surya Kant

Justice, for him, is not a verdict pronounced from a pedestal, but a whisper of understanding from a conscience awake. It must touch not only the letter of law, but the pulse of life.

“A law that cannot feel, cannot heal,” says Justice Surya Kant, who sees compassion as the highest form of strength.

In his first in-depth conversation with the Tribune after being designated the Chief Justice of India, Justice Surya Kant says the judiciary must remain alive to the rhythm of a changing world.

“Every institution must reform not because it has failed, but because the world it serves keeps changing. The judiciary must lead this renewal — quietly, firmly and without fear,” he says, his tone measured but resolute.

Reform, he explains, is not an admission of failure but an act of foresight — the duty of leadership to renew trust before it fades.

Justice Surya Kant is set to take oath as Chief Justice of India on November 24, yet his reflections are already turned inward — toward the moral architecture of justice. Marking a departure from his earlier addresses centred on institutional priorities and judicial reforms, his conversation turns philosophical, offering his first in-depth reflection on the very idea of law — its moral compass, the balance between reason and empathy, and the need for justice to remain a deeply humane pursuit.

“Justice for all is a daily duty. The true measure of a system lies in how gently it touches those who have the least voice and the greatest need,” he says, describing justice as a lived experience, not a legal abstraction. To him, fairness divorced from empathy becomes hollow, and retribution mistaken for justice, cruel.

“The highest form of justice lies not in retribution but in understanding — for law that cannot feel, cannot heal.”

Even the symbols of the judiciary, he believes, are reminders of humility, not hierarchy. “The robe a judge wears is a reminder that he must listen to the people — with humility, without bias, and with a conscience awake to suffering.”

For Justice Surya Kant, the robe is not an emblem of authority but a cloak of responsibility — an everyday reminder that a judge must remain human before being judicial.

Describing the Constitution as “the moral compass of the Republic,” he calls it neither static text nor relic but a living covenant renewed through fairness.

“The Constitution is not an inheritance to be guarded in glass — it is a living faith to be renewed through every act of fairness, every whisper of truth, every judgment of courage.” He adds that the strength of a democracy lies in its ability to preserve both freedom and dignity.

“A mature democracy must learn to protect freedom without wounding dignity — and to uphold dignity without silencing freedom. That delicate balance is the judiciary’s truest test.”

Turning to the age of digital transformation, Justice Surya Kant warns against letting technology eclipse humanity. “Technology must serve as an instrument of inclusion, not exclusion. A justice system that becomes mechanical may deliver orders, but it will cease to deliver understanding,” he said, urging that efficiency must never come at the cost of empathy.

For Justice Surya Kant, these are not reflections but priorities that must shape the institution he is about to lead — compassion guiding reform, empathy shaping efficiency, and moral clarity anchoring every act of judicial renewal.

For him, the true grandeur of justice lies not in its edifice but in its essence. “We must remember that the majesty of law does not flow from its buildings or its benches, but from the trust of the people — a trust that can only be earned through transparency, empathy, and integrity.” That trust, he says, is fragile and must be renewed daily by conduct, not decree.

Delay, he adds, is one of justice’s deepest wounds — one that time itself inflicts on fairness. “Delayed justice is not merely a procedural lapse — it is a moral failure. Every day lost in indecision is a day denied to someone’s dignity.” For him, a justice system that moves swiftly yet sensitively is the truest reflection of a compassionate State.

Reflecting on his journey from the Punjab and Haryana High Court Bar — where he began as a young advocate more than four decades ago — to the nation’s highest judicial office, Justice Surya Kant’s voice softened. “Looking back, if we can say that even one more citizen felt seen by the law, one more life was dignified by fairness — then the institution has done its duty.”

It was to this Bar, to this beginning, that he returned this week — not as the next Chief Justice of India, but as a grateful son of the soil. The Punjab and Haryana High Court Bar Association, moved by his elevation, had invited him for a felicitation. On barely twelve hours’ notice, the campus was filled with advocates, and more advocates, who had once shared his corridors and causes. Justice Surya Kant made a special effort to meet them before assuming office, and the response was overwhelming — a gathering not of protocol but of affection.

As Chief Justices and judges from 11 nations prepare to witness his elevation later this month, his thoughts remain strikingly free of grandeur. He speaks not of legacy or office, but of listening — of restoring the human touch in the machinery of justice.

And as he prepares to lead the world’s largest judiciary, his words circle back to their moral core: that the true majesty of law lies not in its power to command but in its capacity to understand; that justice must touch gently — for only a law that can feel, can heal.