Caste enumeration does not create division — it names it, and naming permits policy-making
India’s long-anticipated national census — initially scheduled for 2021 but deferred due to the pandemic — is now poised to begin in late 2026 and culminate on March 1, 2027. This iteration promises to be India’s first fully digital census and, more significantly, the first since 1931 to systematically enumerate caste. India has, till now, pursued data ubiquity including biometric identities for every citizen, digital tracking of welfare funds, geotagged public infrastructure, biometric subsidies, and real-time vaccine registries. However, previously we have never had a clear insight into the critical stratifier that underpins the socio-economic disparities — caste. Through this shift, the state acknowledges that without knowing who is excluded, inclusive growth is a non-sequitur.
The move has generated optimism; it follows the path of Telangana’s 2024 SEEPC survey that mapped more than 243 sub-castes across 74 socio-economic indicators . [How Telangana plans to use caste survey data to measure ‘relative backwardness’ of subcastes | India News - The Indian Express] This has led to the creation of India’s first Composite Backwardness Index – a scientifically rigorous ranking that stratifies communities into quartiles, permitting precisely optimized welfare allocations, including caste-based budget lines, priority quotas, and enhanced scholarships . [Telangana set to finalise first composite Backwardness index; report to cover 242 caste groups | Hyderabad News - Times of India] The state government has additionally pledged to anchor next year’s fiscal outlay to this index, potentially transforming welfare delivery from a scattergun to a scalpel-sharp approach to social equity. With Census 2027, India has an opportunity to restore data dignity to marginalized communities and root its development programs in demographic realities.
Yet, there are lingering concerns. The Gazette Notification does explicitly mention the inclusion of caste, but there is an apprehension in some quarters that this exercise will amount to a nominal caste Census that records identity on paper but never releases disaggregated data. The 2011 SECC made this mistake — caste data was collected but never made public. If Census 2027 mimics this approach, we risk losing more than a dataset; we lose an opportunity to shine light into centuries-old shadows.
There is, however, a case for guarded optimism. Prime minister Narendra Modi’s framing of bringing marginalized sections into the mainstream of development suggests the state sees caste as a tool of empowerment, not exclusion. The digital Census will be India’s largest peacetime mobilization, and unlike the colonial Censuses, it aims for inclusivity, not mapping for control. Digital enumeration presents a technological upgrade, and if accompanied by robust anonymization and transparent reporting, this could set a global precedent in ethical, large-scale data collection.
Success, though, won’t be automated; methodological rigour must match political will. We need a standardized caste data framework with clear sub-caste identification protocols, enumerator training to avoid misclassifications, and, crucially, anonymized public release of aggregated data. Only then can domain experts and policymakers convert raw numbers into targeted interventions, while allowing civil society to hold the system accountable.
This process must also resist the fatalism that the caste Census will rekindle identity politics. Such fears overlook a fundamental truth: Caste has always structured Indian life, whether counted or not. Enumeration does not create division — it names it, and naming permits policy-making. Moreover, visibility need not equal politics. For instance, Sweden collects ethnicity data through anonymized national registers governed by strict privacy protections and independent data oversight bodies, ensuring sensitive information strengthens welfare policies rather than fueling social division. India must learn to do the same.
A final yet essential requirement is that the data shouldn’t be a one-off. Our socio-economic landscape is dynamic. Caste-based mobility, intersectional vulnerabilities, and emerging sub-structural inequalities all require decades of tracking. The census could, therefore, be paired with periodic micro-surveys that reduce long-term fiscal inefficiency. Precise data prevents costly misallocations, avoids sweeping one-size-fits-all schemes, and ensures that public resources are directed where they generate real, measurable impact.
It is worth iterating that data without integrity is propaganda; data with clarity becomes equity. India now has the opportunity to combine its digital strength with human dignity. Not to misuse caste, but to use data on caste in dismantling ongoing harm. That’s the promise of Census 2027. If carried through, it won’t just count people — it will count for them.
Bishal Kalita is a Research Assistant at Pahle India Foundation.