The Handbook and the Harvard Question, Judicial Stereotypes and the Path Forward
It is not often that a Chief Justice of India publicly questions the wisdom of his own institution in open Court. Which is why the observation of the present CJI, as reported in the press, that a handbook published by the Supreme Court during the tenure of one of his predecessors to combat gender stereotypes is too “Harvard-oriented” and requires revision, was unexpected.
Such introspection is healthy, and doing it publicly is exactly what transparency demands. But what does it mean for a handbook on gender to be “Harvard-oriented”? Should it be, say, Dharwad-oriented? The question opens a deeper conversation about the nature of judicial education, the relevance of academic perspectives, and the need for practical tools that serve the grassroots of India’s legal system.
The Empty Phrase
Conceptually, it is doubtful whether the phrase “Harvard-oriented” is meaningful in any way. Harvard, after all, is a university. Like most good universities, it has a wide diversity of professors and students holding an even wider diversity of viewpoints. Laurence Tribe, a widely respected constitutional academic who has argued for Trump to be prosecuted, is colleagues at Harvard Law School with Adrian Vermeule, the conservative scholar who defends some of Trump’s most questionable actions.
Whether there is something common to both of them that can be considered the core, the “basic structure” of Harvard if you will, is doubtful. Without such a core, “Harvard-oriented” is an empty phrase. It gestures at a critique without specifying its content.
Though empty, the phrase may not necessarily be hollow. Perhaps what the CJI had in mind was Harvard not as a specific university, but as a proxy for an academic institution. After all, he followed up his statement with a proposal to “fine-tune” the handbook so that it can become “practical” and help in training judges. Any improvements should always be welcome, but this begs the question: is the handbook excessively academic?
The Handbook’s Content
Though it might appear to be so at first blush, a close reading of the document dispels this notion. It contains a set of common stereotypes that pervade judicial thinking and gently nudges the reader to an alternative possibility where the stereotype is not true.
It cites an example where a court found it “surprising” that a woman who was raped did not complain immediately. The handbook suggests that the delay is not because the woman is fabricating a story, but rather because it takes courage to report such a traumatic event in one’s life. This is not abstract theory; it is practical guidance grounded in psychological reality.
It then provides a handy practical checklist on the law relating to gender-based violence to assist lawyers and judges. It extracts the relevant case law from the Supreme Court, which instructs judges to ignore the sexual history of the victim, give credence to her testimony, and not hold the fact of delay in filing a case against her.
Having been put together by a committee of judges, lawyers, and court staff, it is not surprising that the handbook is specifically written with a view to helping the legal fraternity handle cases of gender-based violence. It is ironic that a practical handbook to combat stereotypes itself got stereotyped into something it tries very hard not to be.
The Real Critique
Maybe Harvard wasn’t used as a proxy for an academic institution, but rather as a metaphor for a foreign institution. The CJI has a valid point here. The sub-committee, law clerks, and researchers who have been credited with much of the work that has gone into the handbook appear to have had very little representation from the subordinate judiciary, a key intended readership for this handbook.
The handbook has a test to determine cognitive biases, but no survey on what trial court lawyers and judges actually need. It has suggestions on hidden prejudice in the choice of words (using “prostitute” instead of “sex worker”) but is entirely written in English, a language that is not the first language for most of the judges and lawyers for whom it is written.
There is certainly a case to have customised versions in each of India’s languages, which call out prejudicial terms in such languages and provide local examples. The handbook should speak to the experience of a judge in rural Bihar, not just to the sensibilities of a law clerk in Delhi.
The Institutional Context
Despite this, one wishes that the CJI had avoided the “H-word.” It is well-known that former CJI D.Y. Chandrachud, during whose tenure the handbook was published, is an alumnus of Harvard. This statement will only further the incipient view that in the last two decades, the Supreme Court of India has become less of an institution, and more a collection of individuals.
One CJI started a “Social Justice Bench” to hear public interest cases; another scrapped it. On the administrative side, an Artificial Intelligence Committee was set up by one CJI; a successor, for all practical purposes, discontinued it. Such examples abound.
The question, at its core, is about institutional integrity and continuity. When each Chief Justice acts as if the work of predecessors can be undone at will, the institution suffers. The court becomes a series of disconnected episodes rather than a continuous enterprise.
The Path Forward
For CJI Surya Kant, the institution has always come first. This is why his call to fine-tune the handbook with a view to making it more responsive to local circumstances, instead of abandoning it altogether, is best viewed as an incremental improvement to a fundamentally laudable initiative. It should be welcomed.
As the National Judicial Academy takes up this task, let’s pause and reflect on what is at stake. We live in a society that can be deeply unjust to women. The judiciary does better than most, but sometimes unconsciously reverts to unjust stereotypes. The handbook is a well-intentioned effort to correct that.
In this it is not alone. Suryakant Tripathi Nirala, the giant of Hindi literature after whom the CJI is named, evocatively wrote about a woman, hard at work, breaking stones. She had neither shade, nor rest, just a quiet determination to complete her work. Ultimately, a handbook may be written one way or another, but must serve that Indian woman who is hard at work on a hot summer day, breaking stones to earn her living.
The test of the handbook’s revision will not be in the elegance of its prose or the sophistication of its analysis. It will be in whether it helps judges see clearly, decide justly, and avoid the stereotypes that have for too long infected judicial reasoning. That is a goal worth pursuing, whether the inspiration comes from Harvard, Dharwad, or anywhere else.
Q&A: Unpacking the Judicial Handbook Debate
Q1: What is the gender stereotypes handbook, and why was it created?
The handbook was published by the Supreme Court during former CJI D.Y. Chandrachud’s tenure to combat gender stereotypes in judicial reasoning. It identifies common stereotypes that pervade judicial thinking—such as assuming delayed complaints in rape cases indicate fabrication—and provides alternative perspectives grounded in law and psychology. It includes practical checklists and extracts relevant case law to assist lawyers and judges handling gender-based violence cases.
Q2: What does the current CJI mean by calling the handbook “Harvard-oriented”?
The phrase is ambiguous but likely critiques the handbook’s perceived academic orientation and lack of input from subordinate judiciary. While “Harvard” as a specific university has diverse viewpoints, it may serve as a metaphor for foreign or elite academic influence. The concern is that the handbook was developed primarily by law clerks and researchers without adequate representation from trial court judges and lawyers who are its intended readers.
Q3: What are the practical limitations of the current handbook?
Two key limitations stand out. First, it is written entirely in English, which is not the first language for most judges and lawyers in subordinate courts. Second, it lacks surveys or consultations on what trial court practitioners actually need. Customised versions in Indian languages with local examples would make it more accessible and relevant to its intended audience.
Q4: Why is the CJI’s statement concerning for institutional continuity?
The statement, referencing Harvard (former CJI Chandrachud’s alma mater), risks reinforcing perceptions that the Supreme Court has become less an institution and more a collection of individuals. Examples abound: one CJI started a Social Justice Bench, another scrapped it; AI committees are created and discontinued by successors. This pattern undermines institutional integrity and continuity, making the court’s work appear episodic rather than cumulative.
Q5: What should the revision of the handbook aim to achieve?
The revision should make the handbook more responsive to local circumstances without abandoning its core purpose. This means creating versions in Indian languages, incorporating input from subordinate judiciary, and providing examples relevant to diverse contexts across India. Ultimately, the handbook must serve the Indian woman working in difficult conditions, as evoked by poet Suryakant Tripathi Nirala. The test is whether it helps judges avoid stereotypes and deliver justice, not where its ideas originate.
