By – Vansh Aggarwal

Abstract:

This article reads Article 15 as a critique of the gap between constitutional equality and everyday governance in India. It examines how policing, development, and public policy continue to perpetuate caste-based inequality despite formal legal guarantees. The film highlights institutional apathy, selective governance, and societal silence as key factors contributing to the failure of constitutional morality in practice.

Introduction:

“The Constitution is not a mere lawyers’ document, it is a vehicle of life, and its spirit is always the spirit of the age.” – B. R. Ambedkar.

Ambedkar’s words remind us that the Constitution was never meant to exist only in courtrooms or law books, but to shape the everyday lives of citizens. Article 15 is directed by Anubhav Sinha and draws its name from one of the most fundamental promises of the Indian Constitution. It is the assurance that the State shall not discriminate on the grounds of religion, race, caste, sex, or place of birth. 

The film does not treat this provision as a technical rule of constitutional law. Instead, it uses it as a moral and political lens to examine how governance, policing, and public policy function in everyday life. At its heart, Article 15 is not merely a crime drama but a reflective commentary on how constitutional ideals often fail to translate into lived reality. The film asks an uncomfortable question: if equality is guaranteed by law, why does inequality continue to define the experience of so many citizens?

Constitutional promise and social reality

The Constitution of India imagines equality as both a legal and social goal. Article 15 is meant to eliminate discrimination not only through punishment, but by shaping a society where such discrimination loses legitimacy. Article 15, the film begins with the recognition that this promise remains incomplete. The setting of the film, a rural district in Uttar Pradesh, is crucial. It is here, far from constitutional courts and policy documents, that the success or failure of public policy is most visible.

The disappearance and murder of three Dalit girls forms the centre of the narrative. What the film focuses on is not only the brutality of the crime but also the response of the state machinery. The delay in registering a serious investigation, the casual attitude of the police, and the effort to normalise the incident reflect a deeper institutional problem. The law does not deny protection to Dalit girls, yet the system behaves as though their lives carry less urgency. This gap between promise and practice is where the film places its critique of governance.

Policing as a public policy failure

Policing is one of the most visible arms of the state. In Article 15, the police station becomes a space where constitutional equality quietly collapses. Officers openly discuss caste, justify segregation, and show little discomfort in treating citizens differently. These actions are not presented as shocking misconduct, but as accepted norms. Ayan Ranjan, the young IPS officer posted as Superintendent of Police, enters this space with a belief in legal neutrality. He repeatedly asserts that the law does not recognise caste. However, the film slowly exposes the limits of this belief. Neutral laws are enforced by human beings who carry social prejudices into their professional roles. 

As a result, discretion becomes a tool through which inequality is reproduced. Decisions about registering complaints, allocating resources, and prioritising cases are shaped by caste hierarchies rather than constitutional values. This highlights a serious concern. The effectiveness of law depends on the institutions that enforce it. When policing reforms focus only on legal frameworks and ignore institutional culture, policy goals remain unmet. Article 15 suggests that without sustained efforts to reform training, accountability, and incentives within the police, constitutional guarantees will continue to exist largely on paper.

Development, welfare, and selective governance

The film also offers a subtle but powerful critique of development policy. The district shown in Article 15 is not entirely neglected by the state. Roads exist, government schemes operate, and welfare programmes are formally in place. Yet their reach is uneven. Certain villages, largely inhabited by marginalised communities, remain outside the benefits of development. This selective governance is not portrayed as accidental, but as the result of long-standing social hierarchies. Public policy often speaks the language of universality, promising benefits for all citizens. 

However, Article 15 shows how universality breaks down in implementation. Welfare schemes depend on local administration, political priorities, and social pressure. Communities that lack political power are easily ignored. By linking caste violence to uneven development, the film expands the idea of discrimination. It is not limited to overt acts of cruelty but includes systematic neglect and exclusion from public services. This portrayal raises important questions about accountability. When the state repeatedly fails to deliver basic services to certain groups, it sends a message that their exclusion is acceptable. Article 15 thus frames caste discrimination as a governance failure rather than merely a social evil.

Individual conscience versus systemic reform

A central tension in the film lies between individual morality and structural change. Ayan Ranjan’s journey is one of growing awareness. Initially detached, he gradually recognises the depth of injustice embedded in the system he leads. His efforts to push the investigation forward are sincere but constantly blocked by political pressure and institutional resistance. This raises an important concern. While honest individuals within the system can make a difference, they cannot substitute for structural reform. 

The film risks, at times, placing too much emphasis on individual integrity, suggesting that change depends on exceptional officers rather than systemic redesign. However, it also shows the limits of individual action. Ayan’s authority is constrained, his decisions questioned, and his efforts often diluted. This tension reflects a broader reality in governance. Policies that rely on individual virtue rather than institutional safeguards are fragile. Sustainable reform requires transparent procedures, independent oversight, and decentralised accountability. Article 15 invites the viewer to reflect on whether the Indian state has invested enough in such systemic solutions.

Silence, complicity, and democratic responsibility

One of the most striking aspects of Article 15 is its portrayal of silence. Many characters in the film are not actively cruel. They are indifferent. Teachers, doctors, local officials, and even journalists appear resigned to the status quo. This silence is perhaps the film’s strongest critique of democracy. In a democratic system, public policy is shaped not only by the state but by societal engagement. When injustice becomes routine, and when citizens stop demanding accountability, discriminatory practices continue unchecked. 

Article 15 suggests that complicity often takes the form of quiet acceptance. The absence of outrage becomes a political choice that sustains inequality. This raises an important public policy question. Can democratic governance function meaningfully when large sections of society are excluded from participation and representation? The film does not offer answers, but it forces the viewer to confront the consequences of disengagement.

Cinema as a tool of policy reflection

As a film, Article 15 avoids melodrama and sensationalism. Its restrained tone, slow pacing, and everyday settings reinforce its message. The absence of dramatic courtroom victories or heroic speeches makes the injustice feel more real. The film’s style mirrors its argument, that inequality is not always loud or shocking, but often quiet and routine. Cinema, in this sense, becomes a space for public reflection. Article 15 does not propose specific policy reforms, nor does it simplify complex social problems. Instead, it creates awareness of how policy failures are experienced by ordinary people. By grounding constitutional ideals in lived reality, the film contributes to public discourse on governance and equality.

Conclusion

Article 15 is not a perfect film, nor does it claim to provide a complete account of caste, law, and policy in India. Its strength lies in its ability to reveal the everyday workings of inequality within state institutions. By focusing on policing, development, and administrative apathy, the film exposes how public policy can quietly undermine constitutional promises even while formally endorsing them.

More than a crime story, Article 15 is a reflection on the Indian state itself. It reminds us that constitutional morality cannot survive through legal text alone. It must be reflected in institutions, policies, and social attitudes. If a principle as fundamental as non-discrimination can be routinely bypassed without consequence, then the real challenge lies not in drafting better laws, but in transforming the systems that apply them, and the society that tolerates their failure. In that light, the question the film leaves us with is not whether Article 15 exists, but whether we are truly prepared to demand that it be meaningfully realised.

Author’s Bio:

Vansh Vijay Aggarwal is a B.A. LL.B. student at Jindal Global Law School and a columnist at CNES.

Image Source: Article 15 Movie Review- Please Watch The Film. Period. | Wrytin