The demise of India’s RTI regime

 When the Right to Information Act came into force twenty years ago, it was seen as a democratic breakthrough that placed a powerful tool in the hands of ordinary citizens. Today, the law survives largely in form, not in substance. What has replaced its original promise is a weakened regime sustained by official claims and awareness programmes that bear little resemblance to ground reality.

RTI commissioners across states regularly organise functions to “spread awareness” about the Act. At these events, RTI is projected as an effective instrument that enables citizens to access information and hold officials accountable. Yet these programmes increasingly resemble ritualised performances. Awareness, without enforcement, has become meaningless. Citizens do not lack knowledge of RTI; they lack responses from the State.

The lived experience of RTI users sharply contradicts the commissioners’ claims. Non-response is routine. Applications are ignored, deadlines are violated, and information—if provided at all—arrives after prolonged delay or is denied using escape clauses built into the law. The central flaw is systemic: there is no internal mechanism to ensure that government offices periodically dispose of RTI applications. Supervising officers do not monitor compliance, and silence carries no real cost.

My own experience as a journalist reflects this decay. In pursuit of factual information on government functioning, I have filed hundreds of RTI applications over the years. Most were never answered. Others were rendered useless through delay or evasive replies. In a recent case, I sought information from the Dakshina Kannada Superintendent of Police’s office on whether a woman had filed a complaint against the Vajradehi Swami of Gurupur alleging kidnapping and harassment. The application received no  reply. After repeated follow-ups, I was informally told the complaint had been forwarded to the Bellare police station. Months later, despite inquiries, there was still no formal response or information.

This is not an exception; it is the norm. The RTI system places the entire burden of enforcement on the citizen. An ordinary person—already burdened with livelihood concerns—cannot be expected to chase files, make repeated visits, or pursue appeals over months or years. A transparency law that functions only for the exceptionally persistent has already failed.

Courts, too, have shown no urgency in addressing this deadlock. Delays and non-compliance are treated as administrative lapses rather than as violations of a democratic right.

In this context, RTI awareness programmes serve little purpose. Reviving RTI requires mandatory monitoring of disposal rates, automatic escalation of delays, real penalties for defaulting officials, and empowered information commissions. Until then, official claims about RTI’s effectiveness will remain hollow, and awareness campaigns will stand exposed as pointless exercises masking the slow demise of a once-transformative law.