New Delhi: Around 2,400 years ago, the Greek philosopher Plato penned The Republic, exploring how societies ought to be governed. Among his many insights, one proverb has endured across centuries: empty vessels make the most noise. If Plato were transported to modern India, he would find his ancient wisdom echoed not in Athens, but in the hallowed halls of Parliament.
During the recently concluded monsoon session, the Lok Sabha and Rajya Sabha bore witness to a spectacle worthy of Plato’s observation. The Union Government, often deploying elaborate answers and circulars, seemed intent on creating a symphony of sound with very little substance. Question Hour, intended as a rigorous tool for accountability, instead became a display of verbal fireworks, echoing the philosopher’s timeless adage.
A closer look at a dozen questions posed by Opposition members reveals the scale of this parliamentary charade. Sudhakar Singh of RJD asked for teacher-to-position ratios in teacher training colleges; the reply merely linked to regulations. Abhishek Banerjee of Trinamool Congress sought the number of child laborers; the government cited past registered cases without providing current data. Kanimozhi Karunanidhi asked about caste-based discrimination in Central Universities; the response outlined committees and ombudspersons, but offered no actual figures.
Vivek Tankha questioned the timeline for the Digital Personal Data Protection (DPDP) rules; the government recited bill features, avoiding any concrete timeline. Sudama Prasad enquired about valid documents for proving citizenship, only to receive a general description of the Citizenship Act, 1955, with no list of documents. Muzibulla Khan’s query on minority representation in Union bodies drew guidelines, but no clear answer.
Other examples abound: Sushmita Dev’s question on loco pilot work hours met with rhetoric about the Indian Railway family; Ujjwal Raman Singh’s inquiry into India’s Olympic 2036 bid yielded only a mention of a letter of intent; Dr. Vikramjit Singh Sahney’s question on Punjab’s 15-point PM programme returned vague departmental references. Jose Mani asked about internet shutdowns; the response pointed to archived circulars, acknowledging that no centralized data existed. Dr. Prabha Mallikarjun and Adv. Dean Kuriakose sought rabies statistics; only vaccine procurement numbers were provided. Even a question on robot density, worker displacement, and a potential robot tax drew a reply about electronics manufacturing ignoring the core concern about jobs.
Across these twelve examples, a pattern emerges: eloquent prose and procedural references abound, yet the answers rarely touch the essence of the questions posed. Plato’s metaphor resonates: the loudest voices often carry the least meaning.
In an era where data-driven governance is expected, such parliamentary performances risk eroding public trust. The monsoon session reminded the nation that sound and substance are not always synonymous. Plato, it seems, would nod knowingly, observing that in the corridors of power, some vessels though loud remain stubbornly empty.