By Vivek Kalikotay
Indian Democracy cannot truly claim to speak for everyone if its news media does not. In a country as socially, culturally, linguistically and religiously diverse as India, representation in the media is not simply a matter of appearance or token presence, it is a democratic necessity. News media shapes public understanding, frames political questions and decides which voices deserve attention and legitimacy. Therefore, the question of who gets to speak in Indian media is also the question of who gets recognized as part of the nation’s public life. If the voices of marginalised communities remain excluded from journalism, then democracy itself becomes narrower, weaker and less truthful.
India’s constitutional democracy is founded on the ideas of liberty, equality and fraternity. These are not abstract principles alone but are social commitments that must be practiced through institutions. The media, often regarded as the “Fourth Estate” occupies a particularly important position in this structure. It is expected to act as a watchdog, hold power accountable, inform citizens and reflect the diversity of the society it serves. Ideally, media should function in the spirit of “for the people, by the people and of the people”. Nevertheless the reality of mainstream Indian news media presents a troubling contrast. Instead of functioning as a truly inclusive public platform, it often reproduces the very hierarchies that democracy seeks to challenge.
One of the most persistent failures of Indian Media is the underrepresentation of marginalised communities, particularly Scheduled castes (SCs), Scheduled Tribes (STs) and Other Backward Classes (OBCs) in visible and influential positions. News channels may claim to represent the nation but who appears as anchors, editors, debate moderators, senior reporters and decision makers often tells another story. These positions are not merely professional roles, they shape public discourse itself. When those who control the newsroom come from largely socially dominant groups, the media reflects a narrow experience of society while presenting it as universal.
This problem is not accidental or occasional. It is structural. Studies on Indian media have reportedly shown that caste exclusion is deeply embedded in newsroom composition. For instance, evidence from major newspapers, television channels, magazines and digital news platforms reveals that leadership positions remain overwhelmingly occupied by those from the upper caste and socially dominant backgrounds. The absence of SC, ST and OBC individuals from key positions is not a minor imbalance, it is a serious democratic deficit. It means either these groups are incapable of the parameters set apart from empowering with education and skills or in a state of Amartya Sen’s language Active Exclusion. However, in both ways the millions of citizens remain largely absent from the institutional spaces that shape public knowledge.
The same pattern is visible in on-screen media culture. Prime time debates and flagship news programmes often project the image of national discussion still the people selected to lead or dominate these discussions frequently come from upper caste backgrounds. As a result, even when public issues affecting marginalised communities are discussed, they are often interpreted through the lens of those who do not share those lived realities which in the Guru’s argument can be put as “Theoretical Pundits and empirical Shudras”. Representation then is not merely about physical presence but about perspective, legitimacy, lived experience and authority.
Some may argue that digital media has opened new democratic possibilities. To some extent, it has. New platforms have lowered barriers to publishing and enabled a wider range of voices to enter public conversation. However, research suggests that digital transformation alone has not resolved deeper social inequalities within journalism. Even many digital-native English newsrooms continue to reproduce patterns of caste and religious exclusion despite somewhat better gender diversity. This shows that technology by itself cannot guarantee justice. A new platform can still carry old power structures into new spaces.
The consequences of this inequality are far reaching. Exclusion in newsroom staffing influences exclusion in news content. The social background of media institutions affects what is considered newsworthy, what is ignored and how stories are framed. If editorial spaces are dominated by upper caste and upper class voices then issues central to marginalised communities are less likely to receive serious, sustained and empathetic coverage. Caste violence, land dispossession, labor exploitation, institutional discrimination and the everyday struggles of oppressed communities often remain invisible or underreported not because they lack importance but because the institutions that define public relevance do not center them.
This leads to a deeper question- can a media system dominated by a narrow social elite genuinely function as a democratic institution? A democracy requires not just elections and constitutional values but a public sphere in which different communities can speak, be heard and shape collective understanding. If the media reflects only a fragment of society then it weakens this democratic public sphere. It turns journalism into a gatekeeping mechanism rather than a platform of inclusion.
A genuinely democratic media must therefore move beyond symbolic diversity. It is not enough to occasionally feature marginalised voices while keeping actual editorial power concentrated elsewhere. Real inclusion requires equitable access to newsroom, leadership, editorial authority, field reporting and public facing roles. Marginalised communities should not appear only as subjects of suffering in news stories; they must also be able to participate as producers of knowledge, interpreters of reality and agents of public discourse on their own terms. Without such transformation, representation remains superficial.
On the other hand this issue is not only institutional, it is also ethical. Journalism should not be understood merely as the rapid circulation of information. At its best, it is a moral and public practice grounded in truth, fairness, justice and responsibility. In a deeply unequal society, ethical journalism requires more than neutrality. It requires a conscious effort to include those who have historically been excluded and to question structures of power that normalize silence.
In this regard, Indian ethical traditions can offer a meaningful symbolic reflection on the role of communication. The Ramayana and the Mahabharata for example present communication not as a neutral act but as one tied to duty, justice and moral consequence. In the Ramayana, Hanuman serves as a messenger whose communication is inseparable from truth, loyalty and larger struggle against injustice. In the Mahabharata, Krishna acts as a mediator and communicator in a deeply fractured political and moral world attempting to sustain dialogue amid conflict and power. In both cases, communication is not divorced from ethics. It is shaped by responsibility and by an awareness of how words affect human destiny.
These epic examples however should not be read as models for modern journalism but they do offer a powerful metaphor. They remind us that communication has always carried a moral weight in public life. Journalism too must recover this ethical seriousness. Therefore, if the media is to remain meaningful in a democracy, it must confront the caste and class inequalities embedded within its institutions. It must serve justice, dignity and social truth along with information. It must also resist selective reporting, tokenistic inclusion, sensationalism and normalization of exclusion.
(The writer is a researcher working on Dalits of Indian Nepali Community. His work focused on Caste, public discourse and discrimination)
