Democracy on Pause: When Parliament Fails the People Who Fund It

The Monsoon Session of Parliament 2025 has ended, and with it, a troubling chapter in India’s democratic journey. With Lok Sabha functioning at a mere 29% and Rajya Sabha at 34%, this session marks the lowest productivity in the 18th Lok Sabha. While the numbers alone are alarming, the deeper concern lies in the erosion of democratic responsibility—both from the ruling party and the opposition. The question that looms large is: who bears the ultimate responsibility when Parliament fails to function?

In a parliamentary democracy, the ruling party holds the reins of governance. It is entrusted with the mandate to legislate, debate, and deliver. When the opposition refuses to cooperate or disrupts proceedings, it certainly creates hurdles. But the onus to navigate those hurdles and ensure the functioning of the House lies squarely with the government. Parliamentary disruptions are not new to India, but the inability—or unwillingness—of the ruling party to engage, negotiate, and restore order raises serious doubts about its commitment to democratic processes.

The government’s failure to overcome these disruptions is not just a procedural lapse; it reflects a deeper malaise. Parliamentary time is not a luxury—it is a constitutional necessity. When bills are passed without debate, when questions go unanswered, and when private members’ business is ignored for over a year, it signals a breakdown in the very machinery that upholds accountability. The ruling party, with its numerical strength and executive authority, is expected to lead by example. If it chooses to let the House remain dysfunctional, it risks being seen not as a victim of opposition tactics but as a participant in democratic stagnation.

This session saw 15 bills passed, including the Income Tax (No.2) Bill and the Online Gaming Regulation Bill. Yet, many of these were cleared with minimal discussion, often in a matter of minutes. The Operation Sindoor debate consumed nearly half of Lok Sabha’s working hours, leaving little room for other pressing issues. Questions on inflation, unemployment, education, and healthcare—issues that affect every citizen—were left hanging. The government’s reluctance to engage with these questions, even when the opposition was absent or disorganized, suggests a lack of political will rather than a lack of opportunity.

The consequences of this dysfunction are not abstract. Every minute of Parliament costs money—public money. According to PRS Legislative Research, each minute of Parliament functioning costs taxpayers approximately ₹2.5 lakh. With over 70% of scheduled time lost, the financial cost of this session alone runs into crores. This money comes from the pockets of ordinary citizens—farmers, laborers, small business owners, salaried employees—who pay taxes with the hope that their representatives will work for their welfare. When Parliament fails to function, it is not just a political failure; it is a betrayal of public trust.

Moreover, while political parties enjoy generous funding, tax exemptions, and electoral privileges, the common citizen continues to grapple with rising costs and stagnant incomes. There has been no major write-off scheme for the middle class, no substantial relief in fuel prices, no reduction in GST on essential items, and no meaningful intervention in healthcare affordability. The disconnect between parliamentary priorities and public needs has never been more glaring.

The argument that the opposition is to blame cannot absolve the ruling party of its responsibilities. Leadership is tested not in ideal conditions but in adversity. A government that cannot manage dissent within Parliament is unlikely to manage the complexities of governance outside it. The refusal to answer questions, the avoidance of debates, and the hurried passage of bills point to a governance style that values control over consensus.

India’s democracy is built on the principle of deliberation. Parliament is not just a law-making body; it is a forum for dialogue, dissent, and decision-making. When that forum is reduced to a rubber stamp or a battleground, the spirit of democracy suffers. Citizens deserve more than symbolic gestures and political blame games. They deserve a government that listens, a Parliament that works, and a system that respects their contribution—both financial and civic.

The Monsoon Session of 2025 should serve as a wake-up call. It is not enough to count bills passed or hours logged. We must ask: what was discussed, what was answered, and what was delivered? Until the ruling party embraces its role not just as a majority holder but as a steward of democratic integrity, Parliament will remain a stage for political theatre rather than a pillar of governance. And the cost of that failure—paid in both rupees and trust—will be borne by the very people who fund the system with their hard-earned money.