Mokyr's Warning: Why India's 'Republic of Outrage' Is DOOMING Its Future

Come October, India enters what I call the “Republic of Outrage.” The so-called festival season now comes with its own ritual choreography — not of lights, but of hashtags. First, the annual denunciation of Gandhi: a flurry of posts calling him the “great appeaser,” followed by that curious sect of Godse devotees who believe the man with the pistol was history’s most misunderstood patriot. And then, inevitably, comes the annual symphony on fireworks — the claim that bursting crackers is a time-honoured Hindu tradition. Celebrities, industrialists, and TV anchors join in with missionary zeal. Some sing solo, others harmonise, but they all hum the same tune.

From television studios to X (that glorious temple of half-truths), the chorus swells. Sudhir Chaudhary, our national priest of prime-time patriotism, warns solemnly that “banning crackers is an attack on faith.” Former Infosys CFO Mohandas Pai logs on to declare that “pollution isn’t caused by crackers,” and that restrictions are “totalitarian.” The faithful cheer. The skeptics are dismissed as “elitist liberals.” And amid the din, the truth — that stubborn, inconvenient fellow — quietly leaves the room.

The fact — that inconvenient fellow — is simple. Fireworks were never part of ancient Hindu ritual. Diwali was about light, not gunpowder. The Chinese invention of fireworks arrived in India much later, and its adoption was driven more by novelty and spectacle than scripture. But on social media, history bends to hashtags. A lie, repeated by men in power or suits, soon acquires the sanctity of gospel. Misinformation in India doesn’t need conspiracy; it thrives on convenience.
That same convenience has an elder cousin in our politics and economics. Just as tradition is rewritten to serve sentiment, laws are quietly rewritten to serve capital. Consider the Adani Power plant in Godda, Jharkhand — built to export electricity exclusively to Bangladesh. When Sheikh Hasina’s government fell and the deal wobbled, the Ministry of Power suddenly discovered new wisdom. Its 2018 guidelines were amended overnight, allowing Adani to sell that electricity within India. Reuters noted that the timing was uncanny — the change came within days of the political upheaval in Dhaka. What was once a stranded private venture became a taxpayer-underwritten lifeline. Divine intervention, perhaps. Or merely the miracle of connections.

Godda, of course, is no anomaly. From ports to coal, airports to media, the invisible hand of the market now wears a political glove. The slogan of “ease of doing business” has quietly mutated into the “ease of being Adani.” Ours is a government pious in rhetoric and pragmatic in favour, has perfected the art of underwriting the rich & powerful.

This is where the poison spreads. Misinformation and money power blend into a lethal brew. “Crackers are tradition,” “big business is nationalism” — both serve the same master: emotion. When public emotion is hijacked, scrutiny collapses. The voter argues over religion and crackers while policy quietly fattens the coffers of the chosen few. Misinformation soothes the masses; disinformation secures consent. The result is not democracy, but plutocracy — government of the rich, by the rich, for the rich, with the poor clapping from the sidelines.

It is all so deceptively benign. Anchors debate “Hindu pride” while the air turns unbreathable. Industrialists invoke nationalism while bending rules in broad daylight. The institutions meant to question have become the applause section. Our democracy is being sold retail — one regulation, one contract, one narrative at a time.

It’s at this uneasy intersection of knowledge, power, and money that Joel Mokyr, this year’s Nobel laureate in Economics, enters the conversation. Mokyr reminds us that true progress doesn’t come from bluster or blind faith, but from a delicate dance between useful knowledge (understanding why and how things work), technical skill (the ability to build), and institutions that encourage curiosity rather than crush it. When any of these legs wobbles, innovation falls flat.

By Mokyr’s measure, India today limps. We reward spectacle, not substance. Remember the Coronil episode during the pandemic? A “miracle cure,” unveiled with ministerial blessings and TV fanfare, sold by the lakh before anyone asked for evidence. No trials, no data — only patriotic enthusiasm. It was, commercially speaking, a triumph. Intellectually, it was a tragedy. Mokyr would call it institutional decay — when state, media, and market together choose gullibility over rigor, truth dies gasping for breath.

Look beyond medicine to technology. We boast of satellites and start-ups, yet our universities starve, our labs decay. We speak of “chip sovereignty,” yet import nearly every chip we use. We celebrate “innovation,” yet most of our start-ups are recycled Western ideas with Hindi names. We are assembling dreams, not inventing them.

Meanwhile, the plutocrats march untroubled. They don’t need innovation — they have influence. Gautam Adani’s ascent tells the story. For a brief moment in 2022, he was the world’s second-richest man, ahead of those who built real things. What did he invent? Nothing. His genius lies in understanding power — not electricity, but proximity to it. His empire stretches from ports to media, stitched together not by invention but by concession. When charges of stock manipulation surfaced, his defenders cried “attack on India.” Patriotism, it seems, has become the preferred armour of oligarchs.

India’s future won’t hinge on how many crackers we burst, or how many lamps we line up on the ghats of Ayodhya. It will depend on how fiercely we defend reason — that most fragile flame. If we can revive what Mokyr calls the three engines of progress — knowledge, competence, and free institutions — the lamps of Diwali will truly glow. If not, we’ll keep lighting firecrackers while choking on their fumes, mistaking the noise for progress.

The choice, as always, is ours: to be dazzled by the sparkle of plutocracy, or to steady the light of truth before it gutters out.

 

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 https://www.deccanchronicle.com/opinion/columnists/indranil-banerjie-knowledge-vital-to-development-does-india-fit-the-mokyr-bill-1911372
 

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