Justice beyond optics: Why the dictum ‘justice must be seen to be done’ needs a re-examination

“Justice should not only be done but should manifestly and undoubtedly be seen to be done.”

This single line by Gordon Hewart, the Lord Chief Justice of England, from a 1924 case, has for nearly a century guided the faith of nations in their courts. Yet the time has come to re-examine how this dictum is interpreted today. What began as a moral assurance of impartiality has, in some measure, evolved into an anxiety of perception. The phrase that once protected fairness now risks diluting it.

Courts, in their effort to appear fair, sometimes tend to drift from their primary duty — to be fair. In trying to demonstrate that justice is being done —through long hearings, repetitive procedures, and exhaustive narration — the courts often risk losing precious time. The result is not confidence but fatigue. Optics consume time, and time is the lifeblood of justice. Just recently, the Punjab and Haryana High Court in the matter concerning the Tribune Chowk flyover permitted two hours each to both sides to argue their case. The thoroughness reflected admirable care. But substance, at times, speaks more powerfully through precision than duration.

The idea that justice must be seen to be done is not a reflection on any particular case or instance, but on a larger public sentiment — subtle yet perceptible —that the appearance of fairness is, at times, mistaken for fairness itself. The concern here is philosophical rather than factual, and therefore not one to be illustrated further through isolated examples.

The phrase needs reinterpretation. It should not mean that justice must look righteous in the eyes of the world; it must mean that justice should be transparent enough to command trust. The difference is crucial. Transparency serves truth; optics serve appearance. One strengthens faith; the other erodes it.

The judicial system cannot afford to become a mirror that reflects public opinion rather than a lamp that illuminates the truth. Justice, when measured by optics, loses its purity. The essence of the law lies not in appearances but in outcomes.

Justice is not a spectacle, not a display of rectitude for the gallery, not a carefully crafted assurance to earn approval or avoid criticism. It is the most private act of public conscience—a search for truth. The robe is a covenant of humility and the Bench a seat of reason.

The Constitution of India recognises justice as a right. Article 21, which guarantees life and personal liberty, embodies within it the assurance of speedy and substantive justice. In `Hussainara Khatoon versus Home Secretary, Bihar (1979)’, Justice PN Bhagwati of the Supreme Court declared that the right to a speedy trial is part of Article 21 itself. Every delay, every detour in the name of optics, chips away at a fundamental right. Justice delayed to appear fair is justice denied, no matter how impressive the appearances.

The Supreme Court has, through decades, reminded itself that justice must rest on reason, not ritual. In `AR Antulay versus RS Nayak (1988)’, it held that “fairness of procedure is the soul of justice”. But, fairness cannot be stretched into symbolism. When the ritual of looking fair overshadows the substance of being fair, procedure begins to eat into principle.

Articles 32 and 226 confer upon the courts the power — and the burden — of protecting fundamental rights. These provisions were never meant to convert the courts into spaces of public assurance. Their purpose is to give voice to conscience, to correct injustice quietly but firmly. Public confidence in courts flows not from visibility but from courage. A verdict may be unpopular and yet just. It may invite criticism and yet uphold the Constitution. That is the difference between performing righteousness and practising it.

The recent decision of the Himachal Pradesh High Court in the Yug murder case, though met with intense public emotion, stood as a quiet reaffirmation of this principle. The Bench chose law over sentiment, reminding that justice derives legitimacy not from applause but from adherence to constitutional reason.

Yet, even as such moments restore faith, there is an unmistakable drift in modern judicial discourse towards image sensitivity — towards explaining, defending, and over-articulating what ought to speak for itself.

The courtroom, once a space of quiet authority, now bears the strain of constant scrutiny. In such a climate, restraint grows harder, and reflection risks giving way to reaction. Justice that grows self-conscious loses its natural equilibrium. The judicial mind must remain undisturbed by the desire to be understood, and untouched by the urge to appear right.

Speedy justice and substantive justice are constitutional twins. The Supreme Court in `Mafatlal Industries vs Union of India (1997)’ emphasised that justice delayed is not justice at all. It must also be remembered that truth is not democratic. Justice cannot be decided by public sentiment, trending hashtags, or televised outrage. The court of law is not the court of opinion. The Supreme Court has cautioned that sympathy or sentiment must never dictate judicial outcomes. The same applies to perception — what appears right to the crowd may, in law, be profoundly wrong.

The true majesty of justice lies in its stillness, in its ability to speak through orders, not impressions. A judge must never fear being misunderstood by the crowd — only by the Constitution. The robes of a judge are woven not with the threads of public opinion but with those of principle, independence, and courage.

Ultimately, justice is not about how it appears — it is about how it acts. The judiciary’s highest duty is not to impress but to decide; not to look right, but to be right. Lord Denning once said, “The spirit of justice does not reside in formalities or words, but in the sense of fair play.” That spirit today demands urgency, substance, and simplicity.

For justice, when it is true, does not need to appear so. Truth shines without publicity. Fairness stands without performance. Justice, at its purest, is not an act for the gallery but an offering to the soul of the Constitution.