Dr. Rashid Manzoor Bhat
Public institutions were once envisioned as instruments of service, justice, and collective progress. Today, these institutions, across sectors such as healthcare, education, and administration, reflect a consistent and worrying erosion of ethical responsibility. The most disturbing aspect of this moral deterioration lies not in isolated cases of corruption or neglect, but in the normalisation of such behaviour as routine, expected and even defensible.
This shift has damaged the relationship between citizens and the state, hollowed out public trust and transformed service roles into platforms for personal gain. In the healthcare sector, this ethical vacuum has become dangerously visible. The medical profession, rooted in principles of compassion, duty, and care, is now widely seen through the lens of commercialism and detachment. Doctors, especially in public hospitals, often fail to maintain even the minimum professional conduct expected of them.
The most common complaint is the noticeable absenteeism of medical staff from government hospitals, particularly during critical hours. A doctor drawing a full government salary has a legal and moral obligation to remain available during duty hours, yet many prioritize their private practice.
It is not inherently unethical for a doctor to run a private clinic or seek financial stability. The ethical breach occurs when such private interests override their primary public responsibilities. Across Kashmir and in other parts of the country as well, a disturbing trend is evident: doctors are often seen attending their clinics during official working hours. In doing so, they deny access to treatment for poor patients who cannot afford private care, delay critical procedures and burden the limited staff who remain on duty. Such behaviour reflects not merely professional misconduct but a deeper disregard for the human cost of institutional neglect.
A recent incident reinforces this observation. The Health Minister of Jammu and Kashmir, Ms. Sakeena Itoo, undertook a series of surprise inspections at government hospitals across the region. In several facilities where more than 60 staff members were officially posted, only three or four were found on duty. This level of absenteeism cannot be attributed to chance or logistical error. It points to a systemic culture of indifference and exploitation, where accountability has weakened to such an extent that state employees feel no obligation to fulfil their basic responsibilities.
Similar ethical contradictions appear in the education sector. Government teachers, entrusted with shaping the minds of future generations, often show little belief in the quality of the system they serve. This becomes evident when teachers, despite drawing public salaries, choose to enrol their own children in expensive private schools.
Sending one’s child to a private institution is not inherently wrong. Every parent has the right to seek the best possible education for their children. Yet, the issue arises when the very educators responsible for public education turn away from it in practice. Such a conduct silently communicates that government schools are not fit for their own children but are good enough for the poor. The message is deeply unethical, for it reflects not just personal preference but a lack of commitment to professional duty. It conveys that government teachers do not believe in the system they are paid to uphold. When public servants themselves lose faith in public institutions, what motivation remains for the broader population to support or improve them?
The administrative sector adds another layer to this moral deterioration. Public officials, rather than acting as facilitators of justice and equity, are frequently seen as obstacles. From land revenue officers to municipal clerks, the average citizen often has to navigate an environment shaped by inefficiency, bias, or outright corruption. Bribes, delays, and misuse of authority have become commonplace. The poor, who most depend on the integrity of public officials, bear the greatest burden of this failure.
Each of these sectors i.e. health, education, and administration-mirrors a society in retreat from moral accountability. The effects are not abstract or philosophical. They are visible in overcrowded hospitals with absent staff, in crumbling schools devoid of motivation and in government offices where impartiality is traded for favours. Citizens experience this decay not as occasional misfortune but as a daily reality. Such institutional failure corrodes more than services. It chips away at the very dignity of being a citizen.
When public servants treat their positions as sources of private gain rather than instruments of public good, the social contract itself weakens. People stop believing in fair systems and instead seek shortcuts, patronage or passive disengagement. In such an environment, morality is no longer a shared value but a personal burden that only the powerless are expected to carry. No reform will succeed unless it begins by confronting this ethical void.
Rules alone cannot restore what a culture of indifference has eroded. What is needed is a revival of responsibility, beginning with those entrusted with public roles. Until a doctor sees healing as a duty before profit, until a teacher believes in the classroom they occupy, and until an officer respects the power they wield, institutions will remain empty shells. A society that forgets its moral duties will eventually find even its laws powerless. Restoring ethics is no longer a matter of virtue; it is a necessity for survival.
The erosion of ethics in public institutions has reached a point where immorality is no longer condemned, it is expected. Institutions that once claimed to function on principles of merit, fairness and service have become arenas for self-preservation, manipulation, and private gain. This degeneration is no longer limited to a few errant officials or minor administrative lapses. It now reflects a structural crisis, rooted in the routine betrayal of public trust. Reversing this trend will not be possible without confronting the decay openly and demanding reform that begins with moral clarity, not merely procedural adjustment.
Recent events in the education and recruitment sectors expose how deeply this crisis has penetrated. The National Eligibility cum Entrance Test (NEET), which determines entry into India’s most competitive medical programs, was marred by an alarming paper leak scandal. Several examination centres were cancelled after authorities detected evidence of leaked papers and systemic malpractice. The outrage sparked by this incident came not only from aspirants but from the broader public, who saw the event as an assault on fairness. Thousands of students who prepared rigorously for years were forced to compete on an uneven field, their merit overridden by collusion between insiders and external actors.
Such failures are not limited to logistical missteps or examination management. They reveal a deeper moral failure among the officials and networks responsible for safeguarding the credibility of these systems. The breach did not occur spontaneously. It required cooperation from individuals in the system—people entrusted with protecting the sanctity of examinations. When those designated to uphold integrity instead enable its destruction, society cannot afford to treat it as isolated misconduct.
The Jammu and Kashmir Police Sub-Inspector recruitment scandal presents another example of institutional betrayal. In March 2022, the Jammu and Kashmir Services Selection Board (JKSSB) conducted the examination for 1,200 posts. The list of selected candidates, initially published, was later cancelled following credible evidence of a paper leak and corrupt practices. Investigations uncovered a network of individuals involved in manipulating the process.
The Enforcement Directorate (ED) recently attached bank balances worth Rs one crore linked to some of the accused, including the alleged mastermind Yatin Yadav. Such developments confirm that corruption was not peripheral but deeply embedded in the process, involving both facilitators and beneficiaries. When exams become tradable commodities, not only does merit suffer, but the very idea of justice breaks down. Young aspirants from modest backgrounds, who depend solely on their knowledge and effort, are pushed aside. The public’s faith in institutions such as education boards, selection committees, and law enforcement weakens. The damage cannot be measured merely in financial or administrative terms; it extends to the moral structure of society.
Rebuilding that structure requires more than stricter laws or digital monitoring. Reform must begin with open discussion, moral courage, and a willingness to confront ethical decay without excuses. Citizens, educators, civil servants, and policymakers must acknowledge that institutional ethics have deteriorated not only because of a few corrupt individuals, but because public silence has allowed such behaviour to thrive. Ethical standards will not rise unless society treats them as essential to governance, not optional ideals.
Discourse around ethics must move from symbolic outrage to sustained civic engagement. The silence that follows each scandal deepens the problem. Ethical violations must be treated as civic betrayals, not routine procedural failures. A doctor evading public duty, a teacher dismissing their classroom, or an officer manipulating recruitment must not only be held accountable but treated as representatives of a larger failure. No amount of infrastructure or technological advancement can substitute for public integrity. Moral decline within institutions cannot be contained through policy if the values supporting those policies remain hollow.
Collective introspection is required to restore the link between public service and personal accountability. The future of any just society depends not on the efficiency of its procedures, but on the honesty of those who carry them out. Only when morality is restored as the basis of governance will institutions regain their authority, and citizens recover their trust.
Institutional failures are often blamed on specific persons, policies, or events. Such an approach isolates ethical decline as the fault of a few, rather than acknowledging its wider cultural and structural roots. A teacher who ignores responsibilities, a clerk who demands bribes, or a doctor who runs a clinic during duty hours are often seen as individual cases. Yet, these patterns have repeated across institutions and regions, pointing to deeper, systemic failures.
When these actions occur with impunity, society begins to accept them as inevitable. The result is not just weakened services but a fractured sense of public morality. Public discourse around ethics has largely been replaced by debates over efficiency, development, and technical reform.
While administrative improvement is necessary, it cannot substitute for moral clarity. A hospital with new equipment means little if staff avoid their duties. A school with renovated buildings serves no purpose when teachers are absent. Citizens often express frustration at these failures, but the conversation rarely moves beyond complaint. There is little sustained effort to examine how public conduct has become detached from ethical responsibility, or to demand better from those in authority.
In regions with existing socio-political challenges, such as Kashmir, this silence carries greater cost. When institutions fail in conflict-prone areas, the damage is not limited to policy. It intensifies alienation, widens mistrust, and weakens social cohesion. A citizen who sees no fairness in public service, who watches rules applied selectively, or who suffers from administrative neglect, does not simply lose faith in a department. They begin to doubt the very purpose of the state.
Reviving ethical conduct must begin with conversation. Citizens must speak openly about corruption not as gossip, but as a matter of civic concern. Teachers must challenge their peers when they fail to attend classes. Doctors must confront the injustice of private clinics being prioritized over government hospitals. Bureaucrats must reject the culture of informal influence and resist turning legal discretion into personal power. These acts require courage, but without them, public morality will continue to decline.
Policy alone cannot restore ethics. Legal reforms are necessary but incomplete unless supported by public will. Ethics must once again become a topic of serious reflection within communities, colleges, professional circles, and media forums. Intellectuals and religious leaders must take responsibility for guiding this conversation with clarity, not silence. Political leadership must be held to higher standards not only in campaign promises but in everyday governance.
Moral revival does not mean preaching from a superior position. It means recognizing the gap between what is practiced and what is expected, and treating that gap as a shared responsibility. A society that fails to hold its institutions accountable soon loses the very idea of justice. Restoring ethical conduct is not a matter of prestige or reform slogans. It is the foundation on which fair governance stands. Without this foundation, no institution can claim legitimacy, and no citizen can feel protected. Only a public dialogue rooted in honesty and responsibility can rebuild the trust that ethical neglect has destroyed.
Email: rsdbhat@gmail.com
