By Dilip Cherian
Five extensions in three months, including those of Cabinet Secretary T.V. Somanathan and Home Secretary Govind Mohan, raise an uncomfortable question: is the Modi government struggling to plan leadership transitions, or reluctant to let trusted officers go?
Extensions are not inherently objectionable. Sensitive assignments sometimes demand continuity. But when exceptions multiply, administrative convenience is no longer a sufficient explanation. The government must demonstrate why retaining an incumbent serves the institution better than appointing a successor.
The attraction is obvious. Familiar officers understand the leadership’s priorities and offer predictability. Yet there is a difference between valuing experience and preferring bureaucrats whose conduct is predictable. When executive comfort begins to outweigh institutional needs, professional trust risks becoming a euphemism for political dependence.
The consequences extend across the service. Repeated extensions can delay advancement, frustrate eligible officers, and foster the perception that proximity to the power centre counts for more than merit or seniority. Such perceptions can distort career incentives long before they translate into actual decisions.
The deeper danger is to administrative candour. Officers who believe their prospects depend on executive approval may hesitate to challenge assumptions or deliver unwelcome advice. The most corrosive form of conformity is not obedience under orders, but anticipating what the leadership wants to hear.
The government is entitled to retain exceptional talent. But it should explain why an extension is necessary, why a suitable successor is unavailable and what criteria govern such decisions. Rules may permit exceptions; they do not absolve the government of justifying them.
A professional civil service needs both continuity and the confidence to speak truth to power. If executive discretion undermines either, the price is paid by the institution, not merely by officers passed over. Retirement may be fixed at 60, but for a select few, the real exit date appears to be decided in South Block.
Superficial administrative reforms
Uttar Pradesh Chief Secretary S.P. Goyal sprang an overnight surprise on babus recently, drastically altering duty rosters and assigning senior officers tighter oversight of major infrastructure projects. The apparent trigger: growing impatience with sluggish execution and missed targets. And with crucial state Assembly elections approaching fast, there is little time to lose.
Too many projects look impressive in review meetings but crawl on the ground. Deadlines slip, bottlenecks persist, and accountability dissolves somewhere between the department and the district. If senior officers need a nudge to check progress firsthand, so be it.
But does a midnight order fix an administrative culture that thrives on reviews, reshuffles, and compliance reports? Or does it merely replace one ritual with another?
There is a familiar danger here. Babus could end up chasing targets, submitting inspection reports and clicking photographs to demonstrate activity, while the real problems remain untouched.
The larger context matters. Uttar Pradesh has witnessed a spate of babu reshuffles, with the Yogi Adityanath government pushing departments to accelerate projects and improve delivery. But constant personnel changes and sudden directives can unsettle the very machinery expected to deliver them.
Goyal’s real test is not how quickly officers respond to a midnight diktat. It is whether stalled projects move forward, delays are explained, and responsibility is assigned.
A midnight order can command attention, but it cannot manufacture accountability.
If the exercise ends with more inspections and thicker files, the babus will have mastered the optics once again, without necessarily delivering anything.
Flawed capacity building
The Centre’s reported plan to increase annual IAS recruitment acknowledges a problem it can no longer ignore. But adding officers to a system that struggles to deploy and manage them efficiently risks treating the symptom while leaving the disease untouched.
As of January 1, 2026, the IAS had 5,755 officers against 6,944 sanctioned posts, a shortfall of 1,189, or 17%. DoPT is reportedly considering higher annual recruitment. But will more entrants solve a problem rooted as much in cadre management as in numbers?
The shortage has real consequences. Officers juggle multiple charges, district administrations operate under strain, and policy implementation suffers. Haryana’s experience, where officers shoulder additional responsibilities across departments, illustrates the cost of chronic understaffing. An officer stretched across several assignments cannot give each the attention it deserves.
Recruitment is no instant remedy. New IAS officers take years to acquire the experience required for demanding administrative roles. Nor can a larger intake compensate for delayed promotions from State Civil Services, poor cadre management, or critical posts left vacant while serving officers absorb extra work.
There is another risk. The IAS is not an assembly line where higher output automatically means better results. Training, mentoring and field exposure matter as much as intake. If the government expands recruitment without strengthening these systems, it could dilute the very capacity it hopes to build.
The answer is not to reject higher recruitment but to stop treating it as a standalone fix. The Centre needs credible workforce projections, faster promotions, rational deployment and a time-bound plan to fill vacancies. Increasing intake may be necessary, but mistaking it for reform would be the real failure.




































