India stands on the cusp of one of the most consequential institutional reforms in its post‑independence history: the implementation of one‑third reservation for women in the Lok Sabha and state legislative assemblies. After more than seven decades in which women’s parliamentary presence has hovered around little over 10–14 per cent, the Nari Shakti Vandan Adhiniyam (Women’s Reservation Act) will soon reshape the composition of India’s legislatures, embedding a minimum floor of female representation in the country’s core decision‑making bodies.
The original 2023 framework had tied implementation to a future delimitation exercise based on the first Census conducted after the law’s enactment, widely expected to be the 2027 Census. That design would have effectively deferred meaningful change until 2034, leaving India’s representative institutions largely unchanged for another decade. The government has now amended the course.
The Union Cabinet approved a shift to delink women’s reservation from the 2027 Census and instead proceed with delimitation on the basis of the 2011 Census. This “delink and fast‑track” strategy means the gender‑quota structure will be implemented ahead of the 2029 general elections, using the existing seat base as a reference and then expanding the total number of Lok Sabha seats from 543 to 816, with 273 reserved for women. A Constitution amendment bill and an accompanying amendment to the Delimitation Act are expected to bring this revised framework into force on 31 March 2029, in time for the next Lok Sabha polls and several key assembly elections.
This move is smart economics.
Nobel laureate Esther Duflo’s randomised experiments with third‑tier reservations in India after the 73rd and 74th Constitutional Amendments have shown that when women gain political power, public‑expenditure priorities shift toward public investments that disproportionately benefit women and children—drinking water, roads, education, and health services. Female leaders do not simply mirror male preferences; over time, they build their own political capital and discretionary fiscal space.
Early evidence from the feminisation of local councils raised concerns about “proxy women,” where elected women initially acted as fronts for male relatives. Yet longitudinal work on the same councils reveals a clear evolution: as women gain experience, they become more autonomous and more strategic in shaping public spending. The upcoming national‑level reservation offers a far larger canvas for that same transformation.
At the same time, it is important to be clear about what the reform is and what it is not. The rise of women in power is not about biological superiority or inherent incorruptibility. Corruption, as institutional‑governance research underscores, is less a trait of gender than a function of access to networks, patronage, and opportunities to capture rents. More women in office will not, by themselves, magically “cleanse” politics. What they can do is deepen diversity, broaden talent pools, and recalibrate how public‑policy priorities are set in the allocation of public resources. When women are present in significant numbers, issues such as the care economy and asset‑ownership—often treated as “Cinderella” issues in male‑dominated parliaments—begin to occupy the centre of public‑policy debate.
The care‑economy infrastructure is a macroeconomic issue, crucial to raising female labour‑force participation. In a country where female labour‑force participation remains stubbornly low and gender gaps in access to land and credit persist, that shift can translate into higher returns on public investment and stronger long‑run growth.
The decision to anchor the new quota on the 2011 Census, rather than waiting for the 2027 Census, has a clear political‑economy context. It accelerates the timeline, aligning implementation with the 2029 elections so that the ruling coalition can claim ownership of a historic social reform while the opposition is still reacting to past inertia. It also sidesteps a more contentious north–south seat‑war that fresh, Census‑based delimitation could trigger, given the differential demographic trends across India’s regions. By relying on older population data, the Centre can present the reform as technocratic and neutral while still managing federal sensitivities.
Simultaneously, the increase in the total number of Lok Sabha seats—from 543 to 816—serves as a delicate balancing act. Women‑reserved constituencies are being carved out of a larger, expanded seat‑base, not by taking away existing seats from powerful incumbents. This reduces resistance from male‑dominated political elites who might otherwise oppose any delimitation that would displace them. In effect, the government is “adding women” rather than “taking seats away,” making the political trade‑off more palatable across the party spectrum.
The reform also has important implications for India’s international standing on gender equality.
The United Nations Development Programme’s Gender Inequality Index uses parliamentary representation as one of its core indicators of women’s empowerment. The GII, ranging from 0 (perfect equality) to 1 (total inequality), comprises four dimensions: reproductive health (maternal mortality ratio and adolescent birth rates), empowerment (share of parliamentary seats and secondary education attainment for women versus men), labour‑market inclusion (women’s participation in the workforce), and population structure (using female population aged 25+). India’s 2025 GII score of 0.437 ranks it 108th out of 193 countries, far behind top performers like Switzerland (0.016, 1st) or Iceland (0.045, 2nd). Critically, India’s parliamentary seat share for women is a measly 14.7 per cent—versus Switzerland’s 43 per cent or Iceland’s 47 per cent—dragging down its GII empowerment pillar. The quota will catapult this share to one‑third, potentially shaving 0.05–0.10 points off the GII and pushing India up several rungs in global gender‑equality rankings.
For the Ministry of Finance, this is more than a social‑policy milestone; it is an institutional condition for more resilient, inclusive growth.
Gender budgeting exercises, first introduced in India in the mid‑2000s, have long struggled with weak parliamentary oversight and fragmented implementation. With a significantly feminised Parliament, the conditions are more favourable for rigorous, evidence‑based debates on gender‑budgeting—on the Vote on Account, on sectoral outlays, and on long‑term fiscal frameworks. When women legislators are present in large numbers, they are more likely to demand rigorous tracking of public spending against outcomes, harder fiscal marksmanship, greater fiscal transparency and accountability of line ministries, and deeper integration of a gender lens into macro‑fiscal planning. Public debt itself is a feminist issue, if attaining the debt threshold ratio through the expenditure compression path rather than the tax buoyancy path, by reducing human developmental spending.
In sum, India’s decision to move women’s reservation forward using existing seats and the 2011 Census is both a political‑economy masterstroke and a deepening of the country’s commitment to inclusive institutions. It is not a guarantee of perfect governance, but it is a meaningful step toward a more representative, diverse, and responsive political system—one that can better translate India’s economic potential into shared prosperity.
The author is a professor at the National Institute of Public Finance and Policy, New Delhi.
The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not purport to reflect the opinions or views of THE WEEK.