ABSTRACT
A recent Supreme Court ruling requiring three years of bar practice for lower judicial exams is drawing strong criticism for its detrimental impact on young, disadvantaged, and first-generation legal candidates. Critics argue that while the goal may be to ensure more experienced judges, the ruling lacks compassion and exacerbates existing inequalities within the judiciary. Historically, the judiciary has provided a crucial pathway for underrepresented groups to overcome socio economic barriers. However, this new requirement is feared to worsen the underrepresentation of marginalized communities, evidenced by significant unfilled reserved positions in judicial recruitment. The ruling is also seen as an arbitrary reversal of previous precedents that prioritized training over mandatory practice for recent graduates. Instead of implementing inclusive reforms like internships or improved training, the Court has erected a structural barrier. Furthermore, the new requirement disproportionately affects female candidates, many of whom rely on judicial preparation for autonomy and financial independence. This is particularly concerning given the significant progress women have made in the judiciary in recent years.
The ruling has also negatively impacted current applicants who diligently prepared under the former eligibility criteria. Critics suggest a transitional buffer period should have been established. Ultimately, the article argues that the judiciary, traditionally a merit-based institution, risks becoming an exclusive "gatekeeper-guarded fortress". This is viewed as a regressive step that undermines diversity and ignores the socio-economic realities faced by many aspiring judges. True judicial maturity, the article concludes, stems from empathy and understanding of real-world impact, not simply years of practice in an often-exclusive legal profession.
In the grand courtroom of democracy, where justice wears a blindfold and wields a sword, even tradition must occasionally yield to transformation. As the gavel of change strikes harder than ever before, the judiciary—often seen as the most stoic of institutions—is now embracing mandates not just in law, but in practice. The marble pillars no longer echo only with precedent but resonate with purpose, structure, and reform. Recent mandatory practices, ushered in with urgency and intent, are not mere procedural tweaks—they are tectonic shifts aimed at sharpening the blade of justice.
The recent ruling by the Hon'ble Supreme Court that requires three years of bar practice prior to taking the lower judicial exam has demoralized and disenchanted a great number of youthful candidates. Although the goal might have been to guarantee a more "experienced" and mature justice, the ruling shows a severe lack of compassion for those from disadvantaged, marginalized, and first-generation legal backgrounds.
"For the past 20 years, appointing fresh law graduates as judicial officers without any bar experience has not been a successful experience1," the Honorable Supreme Court argues. Concerns raised include a lack of experience in the courtroom, a lack of knowledge about procedural subtleties, and unfavorable attitudes toward superiors, court employees, advocates, and litigants. Even while these concerns are legitimate, the general remedy that was implemented—delaying eligibility by three years—is incredibly unjust, exclusive, and discriminatory.
Judiciary as a Ray of Hope for the Oppressed and Voiceless
The judiciary has long been a lone ray of light for law students from underrepresented groups. For many, passing the judicial service exam right out of law school offered a chance to overcome the cycles of poverty and marginalization as well as a significant professional accomplishment. It was one of the few occupations where hard work and merit could overcome the lack of political connections or elite networks.
This dilemma is glaringly evident in the Supreme Court of India's Centre for Research and Planning's November 2023 State of Judiciary Report2. In the Civil Judge (Junior Division) recruitment, reserved categories accounted for 66.3% of the total unfilled positions in six states: Bihar, Gujarat, Rajasthan, Madhya Pradesh, Uttar Pradesh, and Haryana. In particular, 84.5% of the seats allotted for Scheduled Tribes (ST) were still unoccupied3. As the study correctly points out, "Unfilled vacancies, especially from the reserved category, call for sincere action at a time when judiciary needs maximum judge strength to cut down the mounting arrears." The State has a positive duty to take proactive measures to guarantee that the underprivileged groups are given the necessary tools and authority to participate in the general decision-making process in society.
In the 32nd Bihar Judicial Services Examination4, candidates from the reserved category filled 92 of the 153 available seats, with SC receiving 28, ST 2, EBC receiving 29, and BC receiving 18. A sizable portion of these seats are probably going to remain unfilled under the current qualifying requirements—not because there is a shortage of talent, but rather because the process is convoluted and time-consuming. This law establishes a structural filter that disproportionately prevents gifted but underprivileged pupils from even competing.
Since their interests and lived experiences are less likely to be reflected in legal interpretation, these populations' underrepresentation in the judiciary not only violates the equality principle but also serves to further their social exclusion.
An arbitrary overruling devoid of judicial reasoning
Even more concerning is the fact that this ruling reverses a well-founded precedent established in the All India Judges’ Association & Ors. vs. Union of India & Ors,5. The Supreme Court correctly acknowledged in that instance that requiring bar practice would discourage talented recent graduates from entering the judicial service. Based on the Shetty Commission's recommendations (which were filed on November 11, 1999)6, the Court determined that sufficient training and mentorship might close the experience gap in a way that struck a compromise between inclusion and quality.
On the other hand, the current ruling relies on anecdotal complaints from many High Courts and provides neither empirical support nor a systemic perspective. The Supreme Court, in its Para 82 of 20257 ruling, ironically admits that there are still few prospects for young lawyers, but it continues to increase the barrier without providing mitigating measures or transitional protections. According to the ruling, students will study law for five years, then wait another three years to be eligible, and then they are being asked to risk ten years of their lives on the hope that they will pass the exams, which have a passing percentage of roughly 0.5%, after three years.8
Exclusion shouldn't have been the answer. Instead, the Court has made it more difficult for people who already find it difficult to enter the legal profession to access the judiciary. This could have been done through mandated internships while law school, longer probationary periods, improved judicial training, and inclusive reform.
The impact through a gender lens
A harsh blow has also been dealt to hundreds of female candidates, many of whom looked to judicial preparation as a means of gaining autonomy. Young women in many regions of India are under tremendous social pressure to be married as soon as they finish their education. For many of them, studying for the judicial service exam was a social survival tactic as much as a professional one. It provided them with a few more years of bargaining power, a valid excuse to put off getting married, and—most importantly—a route to financial independence before their futures were dominated by family obligations.
This change is all the more unfortunate given the extraordinary progress women have made in the judiciary in recent years. According to the "State of Judiciary Report,9" women currently make up 36.3% of the district judiciary's workforce. More remarkably, women made up more than half of the candidates chosen in the most recent Civil Judge (Junior Division) recruiting examinations in 14 of the 16 states this survey looked at. Not coincidental, these figures show that women were increasingly eager to enter the judiciary, a sign that the system was at last starting to become more representative and inclusive.
In order to maintain gender parity, the study also cited the 99th study of the Parliamentary Standing Committee on Personnel, Public Grievances, Law, and Justice, which suggested that women should make up about half of the judiciary's overall strength. The new eligibility requirement creates yet another obstacle rather than advancing this achievement, which is especially onerous for women from marginalized groups who already deal with severe time and social constraints.
Situation for current applicants
Those who graduated two or three years ago and have been studying diligently for the judiciary exam have also been severely harmed by this ruling. These pupils trusted a system that had previously permitted recent grads to take tests. They put a lot of time, effort, and even their family's savings into preparation and coaching. Many even declined employments offer in order to devote themselves fully to their goal of becoming judges.
They have now been disqualified overnight. Particularly in a field that does not compensate entry level attorneys, how are they expected to change course and begin practicing now? How do they explain to their loved ones that the past two or three years have been a waste of their time? A transitional buffer period should have been established by the Supreme Court, at the absolute least. Those who were already getting ready under the former eligibility regime ought to have had two or three years to apply and compete under the previous regulations. In addition to protecting their investment and goals, this would have allowed the system to gradually switch to the new model.
Judiciary—A Bastion of Privilege or a Bridge to Equality?
In reality as much as in principle, the Indian courts, particularly at the entry level, must continue to be accessible. It is the only branch of government where merit—which is determined by demanding competitive exams—has always been valued more highly than ancestry, privilege, or money. The judiciary has long been a rare exception in a culture where entry to the halls of power frequently hinges on one's last name or financial situation. It has served as a ray of hope for first generation college graduates, hopefuls from underrepresented groups, and those outside the exclusive circles of elite legal practice.
However, that could change if years of practice are required before taking the judicial service examination. Under the guise of "maturity" and "experience," it runs the risk of turning the judiciary into a gatekeeper-guarded fortress that is only open to those who can afford to wait, network, and put up with years of unpaid or inadequately compensated legal schooling. Regression is what this is, not reform. It is a covert method of exclusion rather than judicial democratization. Such a decision has repercussions that go beyond postponed careers. Students from Dalit, tribal, and OBC backgrounds receive a terrifying message: your goals must now wait until you've "matured" through systems that were never intended to include you in the first place. It ignores socioeconomic realities, such as the fact that many people cannot afford to practice or intern for free. For some, passing a tough exam right out of law school was a lifeline as much as a feat. Furthermore, the crucial diversity the bench sorely needs is undermined by this decision. Judges are arbiters of lived reality in addition to interpreting the law.
Our judiciary requires officials who have firsthand knowledge of caste atrocities, gender violence, rural land disputes, and structural poverty. A policy that favors "seasoned" attorneys—who are frequently cultivated in prestigious settings and protected from abuses at the grassroots level— will disadvantage these very people.
Additionally, it disregards the systemic injustices that exist within the legal profession. In India, the legal profession is still incredibly exclusive and hierarchical. Fluency in English, urban upbringing, or connections with alumni from prestigious law schools are frequently prerequisites for admission to powerful chambers or firms. Mandating "practice" in such a setting without providing fair support systems skews the playing field rather than leveling it.
We are erecting drawbridges in place of a bridge that would bring justice closer to the people. A bastion for the privileged, guarded by artificial notions of maturity, is not what the judiciary should become. A person's level of empathy, dedication to justice, and comprehension of how the law affects actual lives are more important indicators of true maturity than years of service. In order to preserve a representative, compassionate, and grounded judiciary, India must uphold merit-based admissions and acknowledge the aspirations of those who see the bench as a place of service rather than a seat of power. The bench should not be a roadblock, but a bridge.
