Mishik Sharma

Every few weeks, a familiar argument resurfaces in Indian policy discourse: that regulation — not capital, labour, or technology — is the binding constraint on India's economic growth. This argument was again articulated today as an opinion article — complete with English and Roman allegorical references  — by an "assistant consultant" at the EAC-PM, in the Economic Times.  The claim is seductive. It simplifies complexity, identifies a villain, and promises acceleration through subtraction.  But when applied indiscriminately, this framing is analytically narrow and institutionally risky. India’s regulatory ecosystem is too vast, too heterogeneous, and too sector-specific to be reduced to a single friction variable. Treating “regulation” as a monolithic growth suppressant is not reformist clarity — it is reductionism. The way forward, I argue, is not deregulation absolutism. It is regulatory maturity. Regulation Is Not a Single Object “Regulation” in India spans profoundly...

In Indian policy discourse, universities are typically framed in narrow functional terms: centres of research, skill formation, placement pipelines, faculty employment, or sites of student politics. Budget debates revolve around grants, autonomy, accreditation, and rankings. What is almost entirely missing is a structural economic lens. Residential universities are not merely educational institutions. They are bounded, recurring, governable economic ecosystems. And once we recognise that, an entirely new development architecture becomes visible. The Blind Spot: Universities as Controlled Consumption Clusters A large residential university possesses: A stable, predictable population Annual demand cycles Centralised governance Defined geographic boundaries Captive consumption markets In economic geography terms, this is a dense micro-urban node. Yet higher education policy remains siloed within academic and regulatory frameworks, while economic ministries rarely model universities as gro...

Introduction India's innovation narrative is at risk of being hijacked by a single-minded, almost obsessive focus on ramping up R&D spending—chasing elusive GERD-to-GDP targets (still stubbornly stuck around 0.6–0.7% in recent years, with private contribution limping at 36–37%) as if percentages alone will catapult the country to global leadership. This fixation, while well-intentioned, dangerously diverts attention from an equally—if not more—critical imperative: massive, irreversible capacity expansion. In a vast economy like India's, with its demographic scale, infrastructure deficits, and manufacturing ambitions, R&D without corresponding physical capacity is largely performative—ideas without factories, simulations without fabs, breakthroughs without output.  Capacity expansion announcements by large conglomerates in 2025 tell a far more compelling story: Adani Group's record ₹1.5 lakh crore FY26 capex push across renewables, data centres, ports, and more; Reli...

1. Introduction: The Political Problem Beneath the Identity Debate Indian politics has long been analysed through the lens of identity mobilisation—caste, ethnicity, language, religion, etc. While these categories remain socially salient, recent electoral and policy signals show that identity-first politics is losing its monopoly as a source of political legitimacy. Development performance, employment generation, mobility, and entrepreneurship are increasingly central to voter evaluation, even in historically identity-dense states. The critical policy question is no longer whether identity will persist—it will—but whether identity can be reorganised around productive civic capability rather than grievance or exclusion. In this article I argue that emerging state-based civic identities, anchored in economic performance rather than on caste or ethnicity, can be institutionalised through policy, rather than through rhetorical contestation. I also advance a concrete framework to do so. 2. ...

In the crisp Alpine air of Davos, Switzerland, the World Economic Forum's annual summit 2026 (January 19-23) unfolded not merely as a global economic conclave but as a vivid tableau of India's evolving political landscape. India's largest-ever Davos delegation—featuring four Union ministers, the National Security Advisor, chief/senior ministers from at least ten states, and over 100 CEOs—descended upon the Swiss town, transforming the India Pavilion into a bustling arena of bipartisan pitches and billion-dollar MoUs.  This spectacle, far from being incidental, confirms and amplifies a thesis I explored just before the summit: development is no longer a peripheral agenda in Indian politics but a structural competitor to identity-based mobilization. As mass mobility reshapes voter horizons and comparative governance becomes the norm, states are compelled to court private capital with unprecedented zeal. Even those governed by traditionally socialist parties—Kerala, Karnataka,...

After four long months, Uttarakhand finally received rain and snow today. Not the heavy, headline-grabbing kind, but a quiet, steady settling of a white sheet across Uttarakhand's mountains, hills, slopes, and valleys. From my balcony, I saw parked cars' roofs & bikes' seats,  my  neighbour’s garden across the street, the green hills nearby, and the brown rocky mountains afar—all enveloped with a white coating. Daily sights, gently redecorated by the winter. This moment has arrived against the backdrop of an oddly confident media narrative: repeated warnings of a 'snowless' winter in Uttarakhand. The implication was clear—something had already been lost. Yet, watching the snow rest calmly on my neighbourhood and beyond, I feel that this media alarm is misplaced. The Problem with Season-Centric Alarmism Snowfall in the middle Himalayas has never been linear or evenly distributed. It is episodic, governed by western disturbances that arrive in bursts, not on a cal...