By Nagesh Bhushan
April 24, 2026
For decades, a comforting refrain has echoed through India's
policy corridors and political rallies: "There is no caste, only
poverty." The argument, seductive in its simplicity, suggests that once
income is equalized, the ancient hierarchies of birth dissolve. If a Dalit
farmer and a Brahmin landlord both earn ₹50,000 a year, the logic goes, they
stand on equal footing. The state, therefore, should target the poor, not the
caste.
But a new, sprawling dataset from the southern state of
Telangana threatens to shatter this comforting illusion. The Socio,
Economic, Educational, Employment, Political and Caste (SEEEPC) Survey 2024,
released by the state's Independent Expert Working Group, does not merely count
heads; it dissects the anatomy of inequality with a granularity never before
attempted in India. Covering 35 million people across 242 distinct caste
groups, the report delivers a stark verdict: Poverty is not casteless.
In fact, poverty is deeply, stubbornly caste-ridden.
The Architecture of Backwardness
The survey's centrepiece is the Composite
Backwardness Index (CBI), a metric that aggregates 42 parameters ranging
from land ownership and electricity access to school dropout rates and
inter-caste marriages. On a scale where a higher score indicates greater
deprivation, the state average sits at 81.
The results are a study in stratification. At the bottom of
the ladder, the Scheduled Castes (SC) and Scheduled
Tribes (ST) register CBI scores of 96 and 95 respectively. They are
not just poor; they are "thrice as backward" as the General Caste,
which enjoys a score of a mere 31. The gap is not a matter of degrees but of
kind. The distance between the most backward caste (SC Dakkal, 116) and the
least (OC Kapu, 12) is a staggering 104 points.
What makes the Telangana data revolutionary is its ability
to look inside the broad categories of
"backwardness." For years, policy has treated the 133 Backward Class
(BC) castes, 59 SCs, and 32 STs as monolithic blocks. The SEEEPC report reveals
them as fractured landscapes.
Consider the Goud community. The survey
identifies two distinct sub-groups: BC-A Gouda (CBI 82)
and BC-B Goud (CBI 77). While both are officially
"backward," the latter is significantly better off, with higher land
ownership and lower dependency on daily wage labor. Conversely, within the
Scheduled Castes, the SC Beda (CBI 113) are vastly more
deprived than the SC Mala (CBI 88).
This internal divergence is the report's most potent
political and economic finding. It suggests that a blanket reservation policy,
which treats a "backward" caste as a homogenous unit, inevitably
allows the more affluent sub-castes to corner the benefits, leaving the most
marginalized behind.
The Persistence of Caste Among the Poor
The most rigorous test of the "casteless poverty"
hypothesis lies in the data for the extreme poor—those earning less
than ₹1 lakh annually. This group
comprises 31% of Telangana's population. If the old theory held true, the CBI
scores of the poor across different castes should converge.
They do not.
Even among the destitute, the hierarchy holds firm. A poor
family from a General Caste background is statistically more likely to have a
child in a private school (34%) than a poor family from a Scheduled Tribe (5%).
A poor SC household is twice as likely to lack a toilet as a poor General Caste
household. The report concludes that "the relative backwardness ranking of
the 56 castes among only the poor... is strikingly similar to the relative
backwardness ranking... among all people."
In economic terms, caste acts as a multiplier of
disadvantage. It is not merely a label; it is a structural barrier that
prevents the poor from escaping poverty at the same rate as their upper-caste
counterparts. The "creamy layer" within the backward classes is not
just a phenomenon of wealth; it is a phenomenon of social capital, education,
and network access that persists even when income is stripped away.
The Rural-Urban Mirage
Another myth dismantled by the data is the idea that
urbanization acts as a great equalizer. Economists often posit that moving to a
city washes away caste distinctions, replacing them with class dynamics. The
Telangana survey suggests otherwise.
While urban residents generally fare better than rural ones,
the caste gap widens in cities. In urban Telangana, the most
backward castes (STs) are more than four times as backward as the General
Caste, a wider disparity than in rural areas. The urban labor market, far from
being a meritocratic free-for-all, replicates rural hierarchies. SC and ST
migrants in cities remain concentrated in informal, daily-wage sectors, while
General Caste migrants dominate the formal private and government sectors.
The data also exposes a geographic paradox: Is
geography 'casteless'? The answer is a resounding no. Even when
controlling for location, caste identity remains the primary predictor of
deprivation. A tribal family in a city is still worse off than a general-caste
family in a village.
The Land Question and the Asset Trap
Land ownership in India has historically been the bedrock of
caste power. The SEEEPC data confirms that this legacy remains intact. OC
Reddys, who make up just 4.8% of the population, own 13.5% of the land. In
contrast, SC Bedas (0.5% of the population) own a negligible
0.1%.
Perhaps more disturbing is the finding that land
ownership does not guarantee escape from backwardness. Many SC and ST
households own small, rain-fed plots, yet remain trapped in poverty due to a
lack of irrigation and market access. Meanwhile, the report notes a
counter-intuitive trend: the "poor" (defined by income) often
own more land than the "non-poor," simply because
the poor are disproportionately rural. This highlights a critical flaw in
income-only metrics: a landless laborer in a city may earn more than a marginal
farmer in a drought-prone village, yet the latter possesses a safety net the
former lacks.
The Legal Battleground: Can Data Survive the Courtroom?
The report's most immediate utility may not be in policy
drafting, but in the courtroom. As the Indian state seeks to implement sub-classification of
reservations—a move to carve out specific quotas for the "most
backward" within the SC/ST/OBC categories—the SEEEPC report is poised to
become the definitive evidentiary weapon.
Will courts entertain such data?
The answer is a resounding yes. The Indian judiciary,
particularly the Supreme Court, has increasingly demanded quantifiable
data to justify affirmative action. In the landmark Indra
Sawhney judgment (1992) and subsequent rulings like Jarnail
Singh (2018), the Court has insisted that backwardness cannot be
assumed; it must be proven with empirical evidence.
The Telangana report arrives precisely when the Supreme
Court is deliberating on the constitutionality of sub-classifying SCs and STs
(following the Davinder Singh reference). The Court has
signaled that while the Constitution treats SCs as a single group, exceptional
circumstances backed by data could allow for internal differentiation
to ensure equitable distribution of benefits.
The Legal Strategy:
- Admissibility: As
a government-commissioned report by an "Independent Expert Working
Group," the data carries the presumption of authenticity under the
Indian Evidence Act. It is far more robust than the anecdotal evidence or
small-sample studies previously used in litigation.
- The
"Quantifiable Data" Standard: The report satisfies the
Supreme Court's requirement for "measurable" backwardness. By
providing CBI scores for 242 castes, it offers the "rational
nexus" needed to justify why one sub-caste (e.g., SC Beda) deserves
priority over another (e.g., SC Mala).
- The
Vulnerability: However, the data is not immune to legal attack.
Opposing counsel will likely challenge the methodology. The
report admits its reliance on self-reported data, which can be
biased. Critics will argue that affluent castes under-report wealth to
avoid scrutiny, while marginalized groups over-report deprivation to
secure benefits. If the court finds the methodology "arbitrary"
or the sample sizes for smaller castes "statistically
insignificant," the policy derived from the report could be struck
down.
Furthermore, the opacity of the CBI formula—how
the 42 parameters are weighted—leaves the report open to challenges under Article
14 (Right to Equality). If the weighting is deemed subjective, the
resulting rankings could be declared unconstitutional.
Despite these risks, the report provides the prima
facie evidence the state needs to defend a sub-classification policy.
It transforms the debate from a philosophical argument about
"equality" into a technical dispute over data interpretation—a
battlefield where the state currently holds the stronger hand.
The Policy Implications: From Blankets to Scalpel
The implications for public policy are profound. The Indian
state has long relied on broad-brush affirmative action, assuming that a quota
for "Scheduled Castes" will automatically reach the most needy. The
Telangana data suggests this approach is inefficient, if not unjust.
If the goal is to reduce inequality, the state must move
from categorical targeting to sub-categorical
targeting. The report provides the empirical justification for the
"sub-classification" of reservations. The data proves that the
benefits of reservation have been cornered by a few dominant sub-castes (like
the SC Mala or BC Yadava), while the most backward
(like SC Beda or BC-A Odde) remain on the margins.
Furthermore, the report argues against the "creamy
layer" being defined solely by income. A family with a high income but no
land, no education, and a history of social discrimination may still be
"backward" in the CBI sense. The metric suggests that social
capital must be weighed alongside economic capital.
The Limits of the Data
However, the report is not without its flaws, and these must
be acknowledged to maintain intellectual rigor. The data relies heavily
on self-reporting, a methodology prone to bias. Affluent castes may
under-report wealth to avoid scrutiny, while marginalized groups may
over-report deprivation to secure benefits. The authors admit this, arguing
that biases "cancel out" in the aggregate. While plausible, it is a
leap of faith that opponents will eagerly exploit in court.
Moreover, the Composite Backwardness Index is
a black box. The weighting of the 42 parameters—why does "girl child
marriage" weigh the same as "access to tap water"?—is not fully
transparent. This opacity leaves the rankings vulnerable to accusations of
arbitrariness.
Finally, there is the risk of social fragmentation.
By ranking castes from "most" to "least" backward, the
report risks turning the reservation system into a zero-sum game of "who
is more oppressed," potentially fueling inter-caste animosity.
The Final Verdict
Despite these limitations, the SEEEPC Survey 2024 is a
landmark achievement. It is the first time a major Indian state has attempted
to map the intricate, multi-dimensional landscape of caste inequality with such
precision. It moves the debate from ideology to empiricism.
The data tells a story that is uncomfortable for both the
liberal optimist and the conservative traditionalist. It confirms that caste is
not a relic of the past but a living, breathing engine of inequality that
operates even in the modern, urban, and cash-rich economy of 21st-century
India.
The path forward is clear but difficult. India must abandon
the fiction of "casteless poverty." It must embrace a more nuanced,
data-driven approach to justice—one that recognizes that to lift the most
backward, the state must see them not just as "poor," but as caste.
The Telangana report has provided the map; the political will to navigate it,
and the legal fortitude to defend it in court, remains the missing variable.
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