Beyond the Bench: Why India’s Pursuit of Happiness for Women Lawyers Demands a Judicial Revolution 

This feature article argues that the demand for more women judges in India’s Supreme Court, particularly during Chief Justice Surya Kant’s tenure, is fundamentally a demand for the constitutional promise of “equality of status and opportunity” and the philosophical right to the “pursuit of happiness” for women in the legal profession. It contends that with only 11 women justices in 76 years, the stark underrepresentation is not due to a lack of qualified candidates—evidenced by the 35% women in the subordinate judiciary—but rather entrenched patriarchal structures and informal networks that exclude women from the highest echelons. The piece asserts that a diverse bench enriches judicial wisdom and public trust, and while legislative fixes like the proposed Women’s Reservation Bill for the judiciary are welcome, the immediate onus lies with the Collegium to proactively appoint the numerous eligible women from the High Courts. Ultimately, it frames the call for more women justices not as a symbolic gesture, but as a necessary step to make the judiciary truly representative and to fulfill the Constitution’s core promise of justice for all.

Beyond the Bench: Why India’s Pursuit of Happiness for Women Lawyers Demands a Judicial Revolution 

On the eve of International Women’s Day in 2026, a clarion call echoes from the corridors of the Supreme Court of India. It is not a call for a new law or a policy reform, but for something more fundamental: a reimagining of who gets to sit in judgment. The plea from women lawyers, articulated powerfully by Senior Advocate Vibha Datta Makhija, is for Chief Justice of India Surya Kant to use his remaining tenure to fill the majority of upcoming Supreme Court vacancies with women. This is not merely a demand for representation; it is a demand for the very “pursuit of happiness” that forms the bedrock of democratic societies. 

This call, rooted in the philosophical ideals of Aristotle and the constitutional guarantees of the Indian Preamble, forces us to confront a stark reality: 76 years into the life of the world’s largest democracy, its highest court remains a predominantly male domain. The issue transcends numbers; it strikes at the heart of justice, legitimacy, and the unfulfilled promise of equality. To understand the depth of this moment, we must move beyond the statistics and delve into the lived reality of women in the Indian legal system, the entrenched barriers they face, and the transformative potential of a truly representative judiciary. 

The Architecture of Exclusion: A History of Scarcity 

The numbers are not just disappointing; they are an indictment of the system’s inertia. With only 11 women justices in the Supreme Court’s history—a meagre 3.83% of all appointees—the message is clear: the pinnacle of the legal profession has been, for the most part, a gated community. The brief period between 2021 and 2022, when four women graced the bench, was hailed as a peak, yet even that represented a mere 11.7% representation. Today, the court functions with a solitary woman judge, a sight that would be unimaginable in any other modern institution claiming to value diversity. 

This scarcity is not for want of qualified women. The pipeline argument—that there aren’t enough senior women to appoint—has been the default justification for decades. Yet, it crumbles under scrutiny. The subordinate judiciary, the foundational tier of the judicial system, has long been a success story of women’s participation. The India Justice Report 2022 highlighted that approximately 35% of judges in district and sessions courts are women. They are not just participating; they are adjudicating the bulk of the nation’s cases, managing massive caseloads, and delivering justice at the grassroots level. 

This reservoir of talent should naturally flow upwards. But somewhere between the district court and the High Court, and again between the High Court and the Supreme Court, a filtration process occurs—one that is not based on merit alone. It is a process shaped by informal networks, patronage, and a deeply entrenched patriarchal culture within the legal fraternity. The transition from a capable lawyer to a senior advocate designated by the court, and then to a High Court judge, is often navigated through mentorship and visibility in the right circles—circles from which women have historically been excluded. The claim that merit is the sole criterion conveniently ignores that “merit” itself is often a socially constructed concept, favouring those who fit a pre-existing mould. 

The Burden of Being the ‘Only One’

For the women who have broken through, the experience is often one of profound isolation and immense pressure. To be the “first” or the “only” woman on a bench is to carry a burden that their male colleagues never experience. Justice R. Banumathi, the only woman to have served as a judge of the Supreme Court from over a dozen appointments made during a specific period, would have felt this acutely. The late Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s famous dictum about women belonging “in all places where decisions are being made” speaks to this fundamental need for presence, not just for the sake of numbers, but for the sake of perspective. 

When a woman sits on a bench hearing a case of sexual harassment, her lived experience informs her understanding of the nuances of power, trauma, and credibility. When a bench adjudicates on maternal health or property rights for women, a justice who has navigated a world of gendered expectations brings an insight that cannot be gleaned from law books alone. This is not to suggest that male judges cannot be empathetic or rule in favour of women’s rights. The great judicial feminists of the Indian Supreme Court have often been men. But it is to argue that a diversity of lived experience enriches the collective wisdom of the bench, leading to more nuanced and just outcomes. A judiciary that mirrors the population it serves enjoys greater public trust. When a woman walks into a courtroom and sees a woman in robes passing judgment, it dismantles an unspoken barrier, reinforcing the idea that the law belongs to everyone. 

The Legislative Warning and the Collegium’s Opportunity 

The introduction of a Private Member’s Bill by Senior Advocate and MP P. Wilson, seeking a constitutional amendment for proportionate representation of women in the higher judiciary, is a significant development. It signals that the political class, often criticized for its own lack of gender parity, is taking note of the judiciary’s inertia. The passage of the Women’s Reservation Bill (Nari Shakti Vandan Adhiniyam) for Parliament and state legislatures in 2023 was a hard-fought victory, acknowledging that affirmative action is necessary to correct historical imbalances. The logic applies with equal, if not greater, force to the judiciary. 

However, a constitutional amendment is a long and uncertain process. It requires political consensus and can be mired in debate for years. This is where the immediate opportunity lies with the Collegium and the Chief Justice of India. The current Collegium system, for all its criticisms of opacity, holds immense power to shape the court’s composition. As Justice Makhija points out, there are at least seven eminently qualified women among the senior-most High Court judges—a pool of names that are more than capable of filling the six vacancies expected in the coming year. 

Chief Justice Surya Kant is uniquely positioned to be a transformative figure. He has already been recognized as a “beacon of hope” for championing women’s representation in bar councils. To now translate that advocacy into concrete action at the Supreme Court level would be his legacy-defining moment. It would send a powerful, unambiguous signal to every High Court in the country: that elevation must be gender-just. It would embolden High Court collegiums to look beyond the usual names and actively consider the wealth of talent among sitting women judges and senior advocates. A proactive approach from the top—a clear, stated goal of achieving 33% representation within a defined timeframe—would dismantle the passive excuse-making that has perpetuated the status quo. 

What a Representative Judiciary Looks Like 

The vision for a gender-just judiciary extends far beyond the Supreme Court. It requires a holistic, multi-level strategy. Imagine a Supreme Court where a bench of five judges hearing a landmark constitutional case includes two or three women. Imagine the confidence it would instill in a young woman lawyer arguing her first case before a female Chief Justice. Imagine the ripple effect: more women aspiring to be public prosecutors, law officers, and senior counsel, knowing that the highest echelons of the profession are not a male preserve. 

This also requires introspection from the Bar. The culture of many courtrooms and bar rooms remains exclusionary, with language and behaviour that can make women feel like outsiders. True inclusion means creating an environment where women can thrive, not just survive. It means mentorship programs that actively connect senior women (and men) with junior women advocates. It means ensuring that courtrooms are safe spaces, free from casual sexism and harassment. 

Furthermore, the push for representation must be intersectional. The conversation cannot stop at gender alone. It must also consider regional diversity, representation from marginalized castes and communities, and a breadth of legal experience. A truly representative bench is one that reflects the multi-layered diversity of India itself. 

The Pursuit of a More Perfect Union 

Ultimately, the call for more women judges is a call for a more perfect union. It is a demand that the Constitution’s promise of “Equality of status and opportunity” be made real, not just for the citizens who appear before the court, but for the very people who inhabit it. The “pursuit of happiness” for women in the legal profession is not a frivolous quest for personal satisfaction. It is the serious, professional pursuit of a career with dignity, impact, and purpose, culminating in a seat at the highest table of justice. 

As we mark another International Women’s Day, we are reminded that progress is not inevitable. It is won through persistent advocacy, courageous leadership, and a collective refusal to accept an unjust status quo. The appointment of more women to the Supreme Court is not a favour to be granted. It is a constitutional imperative. Chief Justice Surya Kant and his colleagues on the Collegium have the power to turn this imperative into reality. By choosing to fill the coming vacancies with the outstanding women jurists this country has produced, they will not just be changing the composition of the court; they will be reaffirming the very soul of the Constitution. They will be proving that in India, the pursuit of happiness, and the pursuit of justice, truly belongs to all.