For as long as I've understood politics, I've wondered why we do things this way.

I've never been particularly interested in political debates or taking sides. Not because I don't care about what happens in our country, but because I've never really connected with the way politics works.

And this isn't something I've started thinking about recently. Ever since I began understanding how elections, political parties, and governments function, I've felt that there should be a better way.

I believe in democracy. I believe people should have the freedom to choose their leaders. But I've never been convinced that the way we practice democracy today is the best version we can achieve.

Over time, a few questions have kept coming back to me.

Why does political loyalty sometimes matter more than competence? Why do we expect qualifications for almost every important responsibility, but not necessarily for those who govern us? And why do decisions affecting millions of people sometimes become more about political advantage than public welfare?

I don't claim to have all the answers. But I think these questions deserve a serious discussion.

1. Are We Voting for Leaders or Political Parties?

One of my biggest concerns with today's politics is how strongly people identify with political parties.

Supporting a political party isn't necessarily wrong. Different parties represent different ideas, priorities, and approaches to governance. That's an important part of democracy.

But somewhere along the way, political support can become unconditional loyalty.

When a politician from a party we dislike makes a mistake, we demand accountability. When someone from our preferred party does something similar, we sometimes look for ways to justify it.

A decision that seemed unacceptable yesterday can suddenly become acceptable when the political roles are reversed.

Shouldn't our principles remain the same regardless of who is in power?

I feel that political parties should be a way of expressing our beliefs, not something we defend regardless of their actions.

Supporting a political party should never mean surrendering our ability to question it.

If a government makes a good decision, we should be able to appreciate it, even if we didn't vote for that government. If it makes a bad decision, we should be willing to criticize it, even if we helped elect it.

That, to me, is what responsible democratic participation should look like.

2. Why Don't We Evaluate the Competence of Political Candidates?

This is something I've questioned for a long time.

Think about how people enter public administration in India.

An aspiring IAS officer must go through a demanding selection process involving examinations and a personality test. Candidates are assessed on a range of subjects and abilities before they can enter the service.

But someone aspiring to become an MLA or MP doesn't have to demonstrate comparable knowledge of governance before contesting an election.

I'm not suggesting that political leaders should pass the UPSC examination.

And I'm certainly not suggesting that only people with university degrees should enter politics.

A degree doesn't automatically make someone intelligent, ethical, or capable. Some people develop exceptional leadership abilities through practical experience, community work, and years of solving real problems.

But shouldn't someone seeking responsibility for an entire constituency demonstrate at least a reasonable understanding of that responsibility?

For example, shouldn't an aspiring MLA understand the basics of:

I'm not expecting politicians to be experts in everything. Even experienced administrators depend on specialists.

But I do believe they should have enough knowledge to understand the decisions they are making, ask the right questions, and recognize when expert guidance is needed.

What if candidates had to attend a competency interview?

One idea I've had is an independent competency assessment for people aspiring to become elected representatives.

Not an examination that rewards memorization. Not a requirement for prestigious degrees.

Instead, an assessment of practical understanding, judgment, constitutional awareness, and the responsibilities of public office.

Imagine asking an aspiring MLA:

Your constituency has a serious drinking-water problem, but the available budget is limited. How would you approach the situation?

Or:

An infrastructure project could improve transportation but displace several families. How would you evaluate the decision?

Or even:

What would you do if your political party supported a decision that you believed was harmful to your constituency?

These questions wouldn't necessarily have one perfect answer. But the way a candidate approaches them could tell us something about their preparedness to govern.

My initial thought is that candidates should demonstrate a minimum level of competence before becoming eligible to contest elections.

However, I recognize that this raises a serious question: who gets to decide whether someone is competent enough?

An interview panel could become politically influenced. Its criteria might favor certain backgrounds or communication styles. And preventing a candidate from contesting an election also limits the choices available to voters.

So this idea would require much more thought, strong safeguards, and serious constitutional debate. Publicly available assessments that inform voters without restricting candidacy might be a more practical starting point.

Still, I believe the underlying question is worth asking.

If governing requires knowledge and judgment, shouldn't we find better ways to evaluate those qualities before giving someone political power?

3. The IAS Officer and the Politician: A Contradiction Worth Discussing

Another aspect of governance that has always made me think is the relationship between elected political leaders and civil servants.

An IAS officer may spend years preparing for a competitive examination, undergo professional training, and gain considerable experience in administration.

Yet important administrative decisions ultimately fall under the authority of elected governments, whose political leaders may not have undergone a comparable assessment of administrative knowledge.

Now, I understand why this arrangement exists.

India is a democracy. Elected representatives derive their authority from the people. Civil servants are not elected, and they shouldn't have unlimited power to override democratic decisions.

I'm not suggesting that IAS officers should rule the country instead of politicians.

But I do question what happens when professional advice is ignored for political reasons.

Imagine an experienced administrative officer recommending against a project because of financial risks, environmental concerns, or implementation challenges.

A political leader may have legitimate reasons to disagree. Experts aren't always right, and governments must consider factors beyond technical efficiency.

But if the recommendation is rejected merely because it doesn't align with a party's political interests, who ultimately pays the price?

Usually, the public.

I believe political leaders should have the authority to make decisions, but that authority should come with an obligation to explain major decisions, especially when they go against documented professional recommendations.

Political authority should not mean that expertise becomes irrelevant.

And professional expertise should not mean that democratic accountability becomes irrelevant either.

We need both.

4. When Political Interests Become More Important Than Public Projects

This is perhaps one of the most frustrating aspects of politics for me.

A government announces a project. Money is allocated. Planning begins. Sometimes considerable public resources have already been invested.

Then a change in government happens.

Suddenly, the project's future becomes uncertain.

In some cases, projects may be delayed, redesigned, or abandoned because they are associated with the previous government or because political priorities have changed.

Of course, not every cancelled project deserves to continue. Some projects may be poorly designed, financially unsustainable, environmentally damaging, or affected by corruption.

A responsible government should absolutely reconsider such projects.

But a project should be evaluated based on its actual merits, not simply on which political party introduced it.

Imagine the cost of repeatedly changing direction: wasted public money, delayed infrastructure, lost opportunities, and communities waiting longer for essential services.

What concerns me even more is how political supporters sometimes respond.

Instead of asking whether a project benefits society, the discussion can become about defending the decision of one's preferred party.

Why should the political origin of a project matter more than its value to the people?

A good project doesn't become bad because another party proposed it. And a bad project doesn't become good because our preferred party supports it.

I believe major public projects should have transparent, evidence-based evaluations. When governments decide to cancel or significantly change them, the reasons and financial implications should be made available for public scrutiny, subject to legitimate confidentiality requirements.

A change in government should not automatically mean starting development priorities from scratch.

5. Democracy Shouldn't Be About Defending Teams

Sometimes, the way we discuss politics reminds me more of supporting a sports team than evaluating the people responsible for governing us.

We celebrate when our side wins. We criticize the other side. And when our own side makes a mistake, we may become more interested in defending it than understanding what went wrong.

But politics isn't a game.

The consequences of political decisions affect education, employment, healthcare, infrastructure, public safety, and the opportunities available to future generations.

We should be able to support a party without agreeing with everything it does.

We should also be able to appreciate a good decision made by a party we generally oppose.

I would like to see a political culture where public disagreement is based more on issues than political identities.

If a government introduces a harmful policy, people should be willing to question it regardless of their party affiliation.

If a public project benefits society, citizens should be able to support it regardless of who proposed it.

And when something goes seriously wrong, peaceful protests should focus on correcting the problem rather than simply strengthening one party.