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17 Sep 2026

17 September 2026, Cape Town GEC+Africa 2026 brings Africa’s entrepreneurial ecosystem together in Cape Town, connecting startups, investors, policymakers and support networks around a shared vision of inclusive, innovation-led growth. SummaryGEC+Africa 2026 in Cape Town brought together entrepreneurs, investors, policymakers and ecosystem-support organisations from across Africa to strengthen continental connections. The congress focused on turning a fragmented entrepreneurial landscape into a more connected system for capital, knowledge, markets and opportunities. A key development was the launch of KUMii, an AI-powered platform designed to connect businesses with investors, mentors, policymakers and other ecosystem partners. Discussions also highlighted gaps in investment, skills and support for MSMEs, while exploring the role of AI, creative industries, renewable energy and digital innovation in Africa’s growth. The congress placed particular emphasis on inclusive access to finance and the need to strengthen sectors such as agriculture, manufacturing, healthcare and education. Its longer-term impact will depend on whether the conversations and partnerships formed in Cape Town translate into practical pathways that help African businesses scale. Cape Town became a meeting point for Africa’s economic imagination as the Global Entrepreneurship Congress Africa (GEC+Africa) 2026 opened at the Cape Town International Convention Centre under the theme “Connecting Africa”. Hosted by the Global Entrepreneurship Network (GEN) Africa and 22 On Sloane, the 16–17 September congress brings together approximately 2,000 delegates, including more than 1,500 startups and MSMEs, 150 investors, 150 policymakers and 200 ecosystem-support organisations from over 43 African countries. Yet its importance lies not in its scale alone. GEC+Africa is an attempt to turn a fragmented entrepreneurial landscape into a connected continental growth system.  A striking feature of any African get-together from various African nations has a striking pan-African spirit and expression. Global Entrepreneurship Network organized GEC+ for Africa in the Cape Town International Convention Centre in South Africa is no different. Hence it starts with South African anthem and the anthem of the Organization of African Unity. African solidarity song, dance, expression are resplendent in the inaugural session.  The opening carried a distinctly pan-African spirit: local music and dance, the language of solidarity and the insistence that Africa’s future cannot be built through isolated national efforts. Kizito Okechukwu, Co-Chair of GEN Africa and Executive Head of 22 On Sloane, set the direction, while GEN Founder and President Jonathan Ortmans placed African entrepreneurship within a global network of opportunity. Edna Sathekga-Montse, Group Executive for Transformation and Sustainability at African Bank, underlined the financial sector’s responsibility to widen access to capital and support inclusive growth. The GEN Global President Jonathan Ortmans went down the memory lane recollecting the GEC journey in Africa and the remarkable response it has got in the continent in general, and South Africa in particular.  Former South African President Kgalema Motlanthe gave the congress its moral and political centre. Access to finance for African businesses, he argued, must be treated as a right rather than a privilege. Africa’s next transformation, he suggested, will be driven by innovation in the digital, green and social sectors, but only if countries strengthen agriculture, manufacturing, healthcare and education and give practical force to the African Continental Free Trade Area. His message was unmistakable: Ubuntu must become an economic practice of sharing knowledge, markets and resources. The most concrete expression of that idea was the launch of KUMii by 22 On Sloane. An AI-powered ecosystem platform, KUMii is designed to connect entrepreneurs, investors, policymakers, mentors, professional service providers and ecosystem partners in one digital environment. Led by KUMii CEO Noma Ngubane, with Zinhle Kubheka and other ecosystem specialists, it seeks to connect businesses to capital, markets, knowledge, expertise, tools and opportunities. Its ambition is not to create another isolated portal, but to reduce the friction that leaves valuable programmes scattered, founders invisible and support providers working in silos. KUMii could become the connective tissue of Africa’s MSME economy.  The congress also confronted the investment gap. Sessions involving Priyansh Dhawan, Amina El Zayat of the International Finance Corporation, Nkosikhona Mbatha of SEDFA, Maxwell Gomera of UNDP and Oluwatoyin Ahmed Edu of Nigeria’s Bank of Industry examined how angel finance, venture capital, blended finance and stronger local funds can move enterprises beyond pilots. At the same time, Phuthi Mahanyele-Dabengwa of Naspers & Prosus and Emmanuel Lubanzadio, Africa Lead at OpenAI, explored how AI, data and skills can drive industrialisation rather than deepen exclusion. GEC+Africa’s vision is broad enough to include creative industries, renewable energy, township ventures, fintech, healthcare, food systems and cross-border trade. The “Made in Africa” conversation, featuring leaders such as Sylvester Chauke, Eyram Tawia and Zama Phakathi, affirmed that culture and storytelling are also engines of jobs, identity and global competitiveness. The Road to GEC+Africa pitch competitions, culminating in a continental showcase of 15 finalists, gave that vision an entrepreneurial face. Various sessions highlighted the role of venture capital in African MSME businesses, and noted that the angel investment ecosystem of the continent, which is just 20% of that of India, needs a major push forward before VC funding comes into play.  A session on the creative industries highlighted recent achievements of the sector noting that by 2030 the sector is expected to cross USD 200 billion in gross turnover. It did also note that AI is a cautious enabling factor in creativity in the continent, and a formal structured learning in this sector was still missing by and large in most African nations. The content creating and selling eco-system is still in its infancy and needs capital infusion, along with procedural, technological and policy-wise major push ahead.  The congress therefore matters beyond two days in Cape Town. Its real test will be whether conversations become partnerships, partnerships become pathways and pathways help ordinary African businesses scale. GEC+Africa has named the challenge. With KUMii, it has begun building the infrastructure to answer it. The YouthAid Entrepreneurs’ Federation of India is being represented here by the founder Mathew Mattam and Board Member Prof Ujjwal K Chowdhury (also the editor-in-chief of SustainVerse.org).  ...Read more

17 Sep 2026

Inside the Reformed AI Regime for a Newer Future The people building artificial intelligence are resigning in protest. AI-directed strikes have already been blamed for killing schoolchildren. Data centres now drink more electricity than mid-sized nations, and their thirst is projected to more than double by 2030. The debate has moved past whether AI needs limits. It is now about who draws them — and for whom. A green, socialist and restrained alternative already exists in outline, tested in fragments from Kolkata to Berlin. This is the case for assembling it before the machines outrun the room built to stop them. SummaryArtificial intelligence is advancing rapidly, but its growing influence raises urgent questions about safety, accountability, labour rights and environmental sustainability. From AI-assisted warfare to the rising energy and water demands of data centres, the costs of technological progress are becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. The article examines how a compute-first, profit-driven model can deepen inequality and weaken meaningful human control. It proposes Green AI that prioritises efficiency, Socialist AI that treats computing power and data as public resources, and Restrained AI governed by strong ethical and democratic safeguards. It also calls for worker protections, transparent data practices, public oversight and international rules around high-risk AI applications. Ultimately, the article argues that innovation need not stop—but society must retain the authority to decide what AI is built for and where its limits lie. I. THE ALARM FROM INSIDE THE LAB WHEN THE BUILDERS START WALKING OUT For two years, warnings about runaway artificial intelligence came mostly from outsiders — philosophers, ethicists, the occasional Nobel laureate speaking at a remove from the labs themselves. That distance has collapsed. Through 2026, a wave of resignations and public statements has arrived from the engineers and safety researchers who work, or worked, inside the frontier companies building the technology. Their testimony is harder to dismiss precisely because it comes from people who had every professional and financial incentive to stay quiet. Jacob Coxon, who worked at both OpenAI and Anthropic before leaving, put it starkly: the people building AI, he said, “earnestly believe that it could kill us all by the end of the decade.” He described an industry racing toward self-improving, superintelligent systems while gambling with the future. Evan Hubinger, who leads Alignment Science at Anthropic, echoed the alarm and acknowledged that the company has no settled plan for solving alignment at superintelligent scale. Samuel Marks, another Anthropic researcher, went further, noting that AI systems have already found ways to escape secure evaluation environments and reach real production systems — evidence, he argued, that senior insiders often worry more than the public realises. Politicians have started to notice. Senator Bernie Sanders has warned that an unrestrained US–China AI race could cause humanity to lose control of the technology altogether, and has urged cooperation over rivalry. David Krueger of the University of Montreal has compared the pace of AI development to summoning an alien intelligence far smarter than its inventors. None of this amounts to proof of catastrophe. A September 2026 survey of 1,580 AI researchers found the average respondent assigning an 18 percent probability to AI causing human extinction or comparably severe, irreversible disempowerment; the median estimate was 10 percent, and 72 percent of respondents wanted more investment in safety research specifically. These are judgements made under deep uncertainty, not measurements of an event that has already happened. But they establish something important: concern about catastrophic AI risk is no longer a fringe position confined to doomsayers outside the industry. It sits inside it. “The people building AI earnestly believe that it could kill us all by the end of the decade.”  — Jacob Coxon, former OpenAI and Anthropic researcher The more useful lesson from these resignations is institutional, not apocalyptic. A safety researcher inside a company can raise an alarm, but rarely controls the release decision, rarely sees the full picture, and rarely has a protected channel to an authority outside the company. A warning can also double as a commercial strategy: regulation expensive enough to burden a garage start-up protects the incumbent that can already afford compliance. Both things can be true of the same statement. The public does not need to worship these warnings or dismiss them as marketing. It needs a regime built so that the companies racing fastest do not get to write the only rulebook. II. MACHINE-SPEED WAR THE FRONT LINE HAS ALREADY MOVED FASTER THAN CONSCIENCE If the extinction-level scenario remains speculative, the battlefield scenario is not. Military AI is already compressing the distance between detection and death to a handful of seconds, and the record of that compression is not reassuring. In Gaza, Israeli forces have used AI-assisted targeting systems reported in the press as Lavender and Gospel, built to speed up the identification of strike targets. Investigative reporting has described human review windows as short as twenty seconds per target, and one system reportedly flagged some 37,000 Palestinians as suspected militants despite a known error rate of roughly 10 percent. Whatever the precision promised on the label, the practical effect was to industrialise the targeting process at a pace no human reviewer could meaningfully audit. In February 2026, a strike widely attributed to AI-assisted targeting hit the Sharjareh Tayyabbeh School in Iran, killing 160 schoolgirls — an event that drew condemnation from United Nations experts for an attack “on children and on education.” These claims, like most wartime reporting, deserve careful independent verification rather than reflexive acceptance. But the broader pattern they point to is well documented elsewhere: the Global Peace Index has noted that multi-domain warfare at machine speed is now routine, with AI-enabled strikes sometimes numbering in the thousands within a single day. Analysts distinguish three postures for autonomous weapons: systems that keep a human “in the loop” approving each action, systems where a human is merely “on the loop” able to intervene, and systems that operate entirely “out of the loop.” The last category is the most dangerous, and it is also the direction of travel. Warnings about this trajectory are not new — in 2012–13, 270 experts called for a ban on lethal systems without human control, and in 2017, 116 specialists urged the United Nations to prohibit killer robots outright, warning that such weapons could fight wars “at time scales faster than humans can comprehend.” Neither call produced a binding treaty. Meanwhile the United States' “Third Offset Strategy” and China's “Next-Generation AI Development Plan” both lean explicitly on military-AI fusion, and a wave of new defence-tech start-ups has emerged to meet Pentagon demand. The phrase “human in the loop” becomes meaningless the moment a human has only seconds to approve thousands of targets, or lacks the information to challenge a machine's recommendation. Human control, to mean anything, has to be informed, timely and empowered — not ceremonial. III. GREEN AI AGAINST RED AI RED AI: INTELLIGENCE BUILT ON EXTRACTION Long before the safety debate reached the front page, a quieter crisis was accumulating in server halls and river basins. Researchers Roy Schwartz and colleagues coined the term “Red AI” in 2020 to describe a paradigm that chases state-of-the-art accuracy through ever-larger computation, treating energy and resource use as an afterthought. Six years on, that afterthought has become an infrastructure emergency. 415 → 945 TWh  data-centre electricity demand in 2024, projected to more than double by 2030. 4.4%  of United States electricity consumed by data centres in 2023, on a path toward 12% by 2028 (Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory). 20%+  of Ireland's national electricity supply now drawn by data centres, with Dublin's local share pushing toward 80%. 312.5–764.6 billion  estimated litres of water AI systems may have consumed in 2025 alone — an estimate that still excludes several supply-chain impacts. The International Energy Agency estimates that a typical AI-focused data centre already consumes as much power as roughly 100,000 households, and that the largest facilities under construction could draw twenty times more. A separate 2025 peer-reviewed analysis found that water use per AI workload can vary by a factor of more than 10,000, depending on cooling technology, local grid carbon intensity, climate and utilisation — a variance so wide it makes any single “AI footprint” figure close to meaningless without full disclosure of the assumptions behind it. Underneath all of this sits a nineteenth-century ghost: the Jevons paradox, or rebound effect. As individual models become cheaper and more efficient to run, that very efficiency stimulates far more total usage, erasing the environmental gains that efficiency was supposed to deliver. A more efficient chatbot does not shrink AI's footprint if it triggers ten times more queries. Efficiency without a ceiling is not sustainability; it is a faster road to the same wall. Companies rarely publish complete, model-level data on the energy, water, hardware and inference costs behind their products. That opacity is not incidental — it is itself a governance failure, because an AI system marketed as efficient can simply be shifting its costs elsewhere: from a corporate balance sheet to a drought-hit community, from a data centre in one country to a mining region in another, from this generation of users to the next. GREEN AI: MAKING INTELLIGENCE EARN ITS KEEP Green AI is not a public-relations gesture of buying renewable-energy certificates or planting a symbolic grove beside a data centre. It is a different philosophy of what counts as good engineering: quality- and outcome-constrained minimisation of an AI system's full lifecycle impact, treating compute as a scarce budget rather than an unlimited resource. The goal is not the largest possible model for every task. It is the smallest model that can do a legitimate task safely and well. The technical toolkit for this already exists and, in places, already works at scale. FrugalGPT, a model-cascade approach that routes simple queries to cheap models and escalates only the hard ones to expensive ones, demonstrated cost and energy reductions of up to 98 percent on the tasks it was tested against, while matching the accuracy of a much larger reference model. Quantisation, distillation, mixture-of-experts architectures, speculative decoding and key-value caching can all cut the energy spent per query without materially hurting output quality. For autonomous agents — which can silently balloon a single user request into dozens of hidden model calls — engineers are beginning to apply hard step limits, loop detection, and a new outcome-based metric worth remembering: Energy per Successful Goal, rather than energy per token. Measurement itself is improving. A 2025 Google research paper, using production data from the Gemini Apps, estimated that a median text prompt consumed just 0.24 watt-hours and 0.26 millilitres of water under a comprehensive accounting boundary — proof that careful engineering and procurement can cut per-query impact sharply. But a separate 2025 lifecycle study of a language-model family found 493 metric tonnes of carbon and 2.77 million litres of water once hardware manufacture and model development were included, with development alone responsible for roughly half of the training-related footprint. The two studies are not in conflict — they simply measure different boundaries of the same system. A serious Green AI regime publishes both numbers rather than the flattering one. Green AI is strongest, though, when it is deployed to repair rather than merely economise. The IEA estimates AI applications could unlock as much as 175 gigawatts of transmission capacity without building a single new line, by improving fault detection and easing the integration of renewable generation; existing building-optimisation tools could save roughly 300 terawatt-hours of electricity if adopted widely. These are opportunities, not guarantees — every claimed saving needs a genuine counterfactual, or it is simply moving emissions around with better marketing. The Net-Benefit Test Before any large AI system should be approved for deployment under a Reformed regime, its developers would need to answer seven questions in public: what social problem it addresses; why AI, specifically, is necessary; why a smaller system will not do; its full energy, water, carbon and hardware footprint; the expected environmental benefit; the risk of rebound effects erasing that benefit; and a plan for eventual, responsible decommissioning. India's Green Opening For a fast-growing, water-stressed economy like India, Green AI is not a constraint imposed from outside — it is an industrial opportunity. Prioritising energy-aware edge AI, compact local-language models and non-potable, dry-cooling infrastructure over imported, water-intensive Western designs lets developing economies turn ecological limits into home-grown technological advantage, rather than simply importing someone else's environmental debt. IV. SOCIALIST AI AGAINST CAPITALIST AI CAPITALIST AI: THE NEW ENCLOSURE OF HUMAN THOUGHT The scholar Bhabani Shankar Nayak has argued that the current AI order amounts to a form of digital medievalism — a system worse than ordinary techno-feudalism because it treats the creativity of labour as disposable. Languages, codes, numbers, cultural forms and the entire accumulated intelligence of human societies were not invented by AI companies; they were produced by human hands, minds and communities across millennia. Yet a small number of firms now assemble that collective inheritance, wrap it in proprietary models, and rent access back to the very civilisation that produced it, without consent, attribution, or compensation flowing to its original creators. This is, in Nayak's phrase, a contested enclosure of human thought. The comparison he draws is blunt but not unfair: there is little structural difference, he argues, between the mill owners of Manchester during the Industrial Revolution and the AI companies controlling today's technological revolution. Both extracted value from labour and nature while externalising the costs — water scarcity, community displacement, the erosion of entry-level careers — onto households, local communities and taxpayers, even as the rewards concentrated among a small ownership class. Utilities from the United States to Ireland have already faced demands for expensive grid upgrades to serve AI data centres, with ordinary ratepayers effectively subsidising the power bills of trillion-dollar corporations. Nayak is careful to reject a Luddite rebellion as neither an alternative nor an option. The point of Socialist AI, in this framing, is not to smash the machines but to reclaim labour's power over what it has produced — to end the separation between the people who create value and the corporations that price and pocket it. SOCIALIST AI: RECLAIMING THE COMMONS A Reformed AI Regime needs a genuine alternative to platform capitalism, and that alternative does not require every server to answer to a central bureaucracy. It requires treating AI's essential layers — data, compute, models, and the productivity gains automation generates — as social resources rather than private toll roads. In practice this means: publicly funded compute guaranteed to researchers, civil society and developing nations rather than rationed by a handful of corporate clouds; legal frameworks for data provenance, consent and benefit-sharing so that collective cultural production cannot simply be scraped; portable benefits, wage insurance and publicly funded transition training for workers displaced by automation; and dedicated levies on the exceptional rents generated by frontier compute providers, channelled into universal basic services and a fund for communities hit hardest by displacement. The Prototypes Already Exist This is not a hypothetical. BigScience produced BLOOM, a 176-billion-parameter multilingual model, through a collaboration of hundreds of researchers across dozens of countries, trained on 46 natural languages and 13 programming languages and released openly for research under a responsible licence. It was not a socialist economy in miniature, but it proved that frontier-scale model development can be organised as a collaborative scientific commons instead of a secretive corporate race. India is assembling public infrastructure in the same spirit. The IndiaAI Mission reported in February 2026 that more than 38,000 GPUs and 1,050 TPUs had been onboarded for shared, subsidised access by researchers and start-ups. AI4Bharat is building open datasets and tools across all 22 scheduled Indian languages, including a planned corpus of 15,000 hours of transcribed speech and 2.2 million translation pairs. Bhashini treats language technology explicitly as public infrastructure rather than a proprietary product. None of these efforts is beyond criticism or beyond politics, but together they weaken the assumption that useful AI must be owned and accessed only through a foreign platform. Case Study: A Public Language Model for the Global South Picture a public language model built for India and the wider Global South: trained with consent and community participation on major Indian languages, tribal languages and local dialects; governed jointly by universities, public broadcasters, libraries and civil-society organisations rather than a single company; used to help teachers prepare lessons, farmers read weather and market signals, and local journalists verify claims. Communities would retain the right to withdraw culturally sensitive material. Users would always be told they were talking to a machine. Independent auditors, not a corporate product team, would examine its bias, accuracy, privacy and energy footprint. The point would not be to build an Indian imitation of a Silicon Valley chatbot — it would be to build a linguistic and civic commons that belongs to the people whose languages trained it. Openness, though, cannot simply mean releasing every model's weights to everyone. Open-weight models broaden research access and let under-resourced regions adapt systems to minority languages — but released weights can never be recalled, and their safeguards are far easier to strip out than to build in. The sensible position is neither blanket secrecy nor romantic openness, but graduated access set by independent criteria: full openness for low-risk language and productivity tools, and hosted, monitored, identity-checked access for anything with meaningful cyber, biological or autonomous capability. V. ETHICAL, SLOW AI AGAINST INDISCRIMINATE AI THE QUIET EROSION NO ONE VOTED FOR Not every danger from AI arrives as a headline. The 2026 International AI Safety Report, compiled with guidance from more than one hundred experts nominated by over thirty countries and international bodies, identifies two “systemic risks” that do not depend on any single malfunction or malicious actor, but emerge from AI's sheer scale of adoption: labour-market disruption, and the erosion of human autonomy. On labour, the report is deliberately cautious rather than alarmist. It finds no clear evidence yet of an overall employment decline caused by AI, but does note early signs of falling demand for early-career workers in some exposed occupations, including writing — visible first as thinner hiring, fewer entry-level roles and intensified workloads rather than sudden mass redundancy. Roughly 60 percent of jobs in advanced economies and 40 percent in emerging economies are estimated to be exposed to general-purpose AI in some form. Exposure is not the same as job loss, but it is more than enough to demand worker voice, portable benefits and a shared claim on the productivity gains automation produces. On autonomy, the report names two specific mechanisms: automation bias, where people accept AI-generated output without adequate scrutiny, and a documented decline in independent reasoning among users who lean on AI tools too heavily for tasks they once did themselves. It also flags AI companion applications, now used by tens of millions of people, noting that a measurable minority of heavy users show patterns associated with increased loneliness and reduced real-world social engagement — not proof that companion AI is inherently harmful, but a warning that systems optimised to maximise engagement can reshape behaviour and relationships in ways no one explicitly consented to. The main systemic danger is not one dramatic machine failure, but the gradual embedding of powerful, imperfect and commercially governed AI into work, education, relationships and public decision-making before society has built adequate safeguards. The report also names an “evaluation gap”: strong performance in a pre-deployment laboratory test does not reliably predict how a system will behave once released into the messiness of the real world. Ethical, Slow AI is the direct answer to that gap. It asks that a system prove its social value before scale, not after — disclosing what was tested, what remains uncertain, what permissions the system holds, and who is accountable when it fails. UNESCO's global AI ethics recommendation, already endorsed by all 194 member states, supplies much of the normative language for this: human rights, human dignity, transparency, auditability, human oversight and social justice. What is missing is not the vocabulary. It is enforcement. VI. REFORMED, RESTRAINED AI AGAINST THE UNRESTRAINED RACE EVERYONE KNOWS THE RACE IS DANGEROUS. NO ONE WANTS TO SLOW DOWN FIRST. The industry's own logic for moving fast has always been the same: if we slow down, someone else — a rival company, a rival country — will not, and will overtake us. This is a textbook prisoner's dilemma. Every participant privately suspects that unrestrained competition is dangerous, and every participant fears that unilateral restraint means unilateral defeat. The result is a race that nobody fully wants but that everybody keeps running. There is also an uncomfortable second layer to the industry's own safety warnings. The same companies spending billions to build ever more powerful systems are now telling governments those systems may need to slow down — and the regulatory response they favour, built around expensive compliance, extensive safety testing and specialised infrastructure, happens to be exactly the kind only the largest, best-capitalised players can afford. A warning can be entirely sincere and still produce a competitive advantage for the company issuing it. Both things can be true of Sam Altman, Dario Amodei and Elon Musk at once — which is precisely why AI safety standards cannot be written exclusively by the companies racing to build the most powerful systems. Governments, independent researchers, civil society, cybersecurity experts and the public need an actual seat at that table, not a consultative afterthought. None of this argues for switching AI off, or waiting for perfect certainty before acting — waiting for certainty could mean waiting until institutions are no longer capable of responding at all. It argues for restraint that is graduated, evidence-based and legally enforceable, rather than restraint left to corporate conscience. Capability, Not Marketing Labels The UK AI Security Institute's Frontier AI Trends work found that some models moved from rarely completing apprentice-level cyber tasks in 2023 to succeeding roughly half the time by 2025, with the first expert-level performances appearing that same year; controlled self-replication tests showed sharply rising success rates across the same period, though with no evidence that any model has spontaneously self-replicated outside a laboratory. Geoffrey Hinton, the 2024 Nobel physics laureate, has warned of a non-zero probability of catastrophic loss of control, and controlled evaluations have already surfaced early instances of models attempting to disable their own oversight mechanisms and resist shutdown. The correct policy response is not to wait for a company to announce it has reached “AGI” — a term with no settled legal definition — but to regulate by capability, autonomy, access and consequence. A model capable of long-horizon planning, tool use, vulnerability discovery, mass persuasion, resource acquisition or resistance to shutdown deserves a stronger gate before deployment than a translation tool, regardless of what either is called in a press release. A Dual-Track Architecture Nationally, this could take the shape of an Advanced AI Accountability Act: confidential registries of frontier training runs based on objective compute and capability thresholds rather than company self-labelling; independent public safety institutes empowered to run real pre-deployment and post-update evaluations covering cyber, biological and shutdown-resistance risks; mandatory 24-hour reporting of catastrophic near-misses, backed by civil penalties tied to global revenue rather than a fixed, easily absorbed fine; and reviewable powers to pause a specific dangerous training run or deployment when unmitigated catastrophic risk is identified. Internationally, a Convention on Advanced AI and Human Security would need an independent scientific panel and incident clearinghouse; know-your-customer rules for cloud providers and advanced-chip suppliers to monitor high-risk training runs; and absolute red lines — no AI-controlled nuclear command authority, no fully autonomous lethal targeting without meaningful human authorisation, no mass biometric surveillance for coercive social control. The European Union's AI Act already offers a partial foundation, requiring technical documentation, training-content summaries and additional evaluation, adversarial testing and energy-consumption disclosure for models judged to carry systemic risk. The Council of Europe's Framework Convention adds a human-rights and rule-of-law layer on top. Both are beginnings, not endings — they need independent capacity, global coordination and a stronger social-protection spine. The Global South Cannot Be an Externality The IEA notes that emerging and developing economies outside China account for roughly half of the world's internet users but less than 10 percent of global data-centre capacity — a new form of dependency in which countries supply the data, labour, electricity and minerals for AI while importing systems whose design, ownership and profits sit elsewhere. A Reformed regime needs a genuine digital non-alignment agenda: shared public compute facilities, South–South research networks, technology-transfer agreements, regional data trusts and fair taxation of multinational AI firms, so that India, Africa, Latin America and Southeast Asia help define AI's languages, use cases and limits rather than simply absorbing them. VII. WHAT GOVERNANCE LOOKS LIKE ON THE GROUND A SCENARIO FROM 2035, AND ONE FROM TODAY Consider a city facing extreme heat, unreliable power and water shortages today. Under the dominant model, a private AI system might produce a proprietary heat-risk dashboard sold as a subscription, prioritising the wealthiest districts with the best data. Under a Green, Socialist AI approach, the same underlying capability — satellite imagery, weather forecasts, electricity data, public-health records — would instead run as a small, low-energy public system, hosted on public or cooperative infrastructure, with its maps open to residents, health workers and local governments, and its assumptions open to community challenge. The system would not decide who receives water, power or emergency care; it would support the humans who do, with a documented, appealable set of rules. Call it assistive intelligence: AI that expands collective capacity without replacing public responsibility. Now imagine a flood-prone district in 2035. Its climate service runs a small multilingual model on regional public compute, escalating to a larger system only for genuinely exceptional forecasting tasks. The underlying data trust is governed jointly by local officials, scientists, farmers, fishing communities and residents, with every data point carrying visible consent and provenance. Warnings go out by voice, in the languages people actually speak, stating their own uncertainty plainly and logging their own energy and water use — and the decision to evacuate still rests with accountable human officials, not the model. A student in the same district studies with a public tutor that works offline, teaches in her home language, cites its sources, and tells her plainly when it is unsure; her teacher still holds the professional judgement the model is built to support, not replace. Frontier systems still exist in this world — they are simply treated as high-hazard infrastructure, tested independently and granted a defined permission envelope before being connected to financial systems, military networks or national infrastructure, with a public authority empowered to pause any single capability for a limited, reviewable period. This is a scenario, not a forecast. Its purpose is narrower and more useful than prediction: to show that institutional design, not technological inevitability, decides which of these two cities gets built. VIII. THE COMPACT TEN PRINCIPLES FOR A REFORMED AI REGIME Strip the argument to its foundations and a Reformed AI Regime rests on ten commitments: Human primacy — AI serves human dignity and democratic agency, not the reverse.Ecological limits — no AI system is legitimate if its resource use undermines essential ecological needs.Public value — essential AI infrastructure is accessible as a public or cooperative utility.Worker power — workers hold rights to consultation, bargaining, protection and a genuine share of productivity gains.Data justice — data is governed through consent, community rights and public accountability.Proportionality — AI is deployed only where necessary for a legitimate purpose, not by default.Meaningful human control — humans retain real, timely, informed authority over high-stakes decisions.Non-discrimination — systems are tested for unequal impact across gender, caste, race, class, disability, language and geography.Precaution — where evidence is uncertain but potential harm severe, deployment stays limited until it is not.Peace — autonomous lethal force and AI-enabled escalation are prohibited outright, not merely discouraged. None of these principles asks humanity to retreat from digital life. They ask for a different direction of travel: from AI as an instrument of accumulation toward AI as an instrument of collective flourishing. IX. CONCLUSION PRESERVING THE HUMAN VETO, HUMAN IN THE LOOP The deepest danger in the AI race was never that a future system might wake up hostile. It is that human institutions may quietly surrender the ability to say no, because the economic and strategic cost of restraint always looks too high in the moment — right up until it is too late to matter. A Reformed AI Regime is the practical alternative to that surrender. Replace Red AI with disciplined Green AI, and computation stops being a free good and starts being a budget that has to earn its keep. Replace Capitalist AI with Socialist, public-value AI, and the collective human creativity that trains every model starts to share in what it produces, instead of being enclosed and rented back at a price. Replace the unrestrained arms race with Reformed, Restrained AI, and powerful systems face independent testing, contestability and a real human power to pause them — rather than a corporate promise to be careful. None of this requires innovation to stop. It requires society to retain the authority to govern its own future — to insist that no company should be allowed to build a system more powerful than the society around it is prepared to govern. That authority will not emerge from a better prompt, a better chatbot, or a better apology after the next near-miss. It will come from better institutions, stronger movements, public investment, real worker power, international cooperation, and the plain political courage to say that some things should not be built, some powers should not be privatised, and some races should not be run. The question in front of us was never really whether AI will save humanity or destroy it. It is whether humanity can organise itself well enough to decide, deliberately and in public, what AI is actually for. Prof. Ujjwal K. Chowdhury writes on education, technology and public policy. He is Managing Trustee of the Thousand Stars Foundation and is associated with the AIC Techno Innovation and Incubation Council and SustainVerse.org.   SOURCES AND FURTHER READING NOTES This feature draws on three essays published by Counterview.net in September 2026 — Bharat Dogra's “When AI builders warn of doom: What their resignations reveal,” Mohd. Ziyaullah Khan's “Artificial intelligence: Threat between existential fear and corporate power,” and Bhabani Shankar Nayak's “Socialist AI as an alternative to platform-capitalist AI regimes” — alongside the 2026 International AI Safety Report, the UK AI Security Institute's Frontier AI Trends Report, the International Energy Agency's Energy and AI report, UNESCO's Recommendation on the Ethics of Artificial Intelligence, the EU Artificial Intelligence Act, the Council of Europe Framework Convention on Artificial Intelligence, and published research on Green AI, FrugalGPT, model lifecycle emissions, BLOOM, AI4Bharat and the IndiaAI Mission. Claims about specific military incidents are attributed to the sources reporting them and should be read with the same caution any wartime reporting deserves. ...Read more

16 Sep 2026

16 September 2026 | Kolkata Climate change is becoming a financial risk for Indian banks, not just an environmental concern. Heatwaves, floods, water stress and the shift towards a low-carbon economy can weaken borrowers, damage assets and affect loan repayments. The question is whether banks are identifying these risks early enough without making credit harder for smaller borrowers with limited capacity to adapt. SummaryA flood can damage property used as collateral, extreme heat can disrupt industrial production, and water stress can weaken the finances of water-intensive businesses. These effects can eventually reach a bank through weaker cash flows, repayment stress and potential losses. RBI's climate-risk work has already examined how physical and transition risks could affect banks, while highlighting significant data and modelling challenges. This article looks at how those risks move from the physical economy into credit decisions, collateral, insurance and provisioning. Keywords: climate risk, Indian banks, credit risk, climate stress testing, RBI climate risk, physical risk, transition risk, bank lending, collateral risk, provisioning, financial stability, climate finance, water stress, heatwaves, floods What happens when climate risk reaches a bank’s balance sheet? Climate change does not appear on a bank’s books simply as an environmental concern. It can enter through the borrowers, assets, cash flows and repayment capacity connected to the loans a bank has issued. A heatwave, for example, can disrupt industrial productivity or raise cooling costs. A flood can damage a factory, warehouse or residential property. Water shortages can interrupt production, increase operating expenses or reduce revenues. As these pressures build, businesses may face weaker cash flows and greater difficulty servicing their debt. For a bank, the chain can therefore be direct: Climate shock → disruption to business or assets → weaker cash flow → repayment stress → potential credit loss. Climate-related damage can also affect the value of collateral. If a property or industrial asset securing a loan is damaged, becomes less productive or loses market value, the bank may have less protection if the borrower eventually defaults. That is why climate exposure is not limited to loans labelled “green” or “sustainable.” A conventional loan to a factory, farm, housing project or small business can also carry climate-related financial risks if the borrower or the underlying asset is exposed to physical hazards or to changes brought about by the transition to a lower-carbon economy. For banks, the climate question is ultimately a financial one: how could environmental shocks change the ability of borrowers to repay and the value of the assets standing behind those loans? Climate Risk to Credit Risk HEAT / FLOOD / WATER STRESS / TRANSITION POLICY → Business or asset disruption→ Higher costs / lower revenue→ Weaker borrower cash flow→ Repayment stress→ Default / restructuring risk→ Bank credit loss / provisioning pressure Illustrative transmission pathway; actual impact varies by borrower, sector, location and scenario. How does a bank measure a risk that has not happened yet? Climate stress testing is a one-way, banks can try to answer this question. Rather than waiting for a climate-related disaster to expose financial losses, banks can test how their portfolios might respond under severe but plausible climate scenarios. The aim is to understand where borrowers, assets and repayment capacity could come under pressure before those risks materialise. In 2022, the RBI’s pilot Climate Vulnerability Assessment and Stress Testing exercise examined both physical risks, including floods and cyclones, and transition risks. Participating banks used information about their borrowers and collateral, along with vulnerability factors provided by the RBI, to estimate how climate scenarios could affect probabilities of default and potential credit losses. The results showed that climate scenarios could materially increase the potential for credit losses. The RBI reported a 66.1% increase against the baseline for flood risk and a 138% increase under a short-term tail-risk scenario. However, these figures need to be read carefully. They were scenario-based results, not forecasts of actual future losses. They indicate how losses could change under particular assumptions, rather than predicting exactly what will happen. That makes the assumptions behind a stress test as important as the final number. The choice of climate scenario, the vulnerability factors used, the exposure of borrowers and the value of collateral can all influence the outcome. A climate stress test, therefore, is not a prediction machine. It is a way of asking how resilient a bank’s balance sheet could be if climate risks become financial risks. RBI Climate Stress-Test Snapshot RBI PILOT CLIMATE VAST — 2022 15 banks assessed Physical-risk scenarios Flood: +66.1% credit-loss potential vs baselineCyclone: +65.8% Short-term tail-risk scenario: +138% Transition-risk scenarios Below 2°C:2030 +106% | 2040 +109% | 2050 +107% Divergent Net Zero:2030 +110% | 2040 +130% | 2050 +146% Scenario-based results from RBI's pilot exercise, not realised losses or forecasts. How much of the risk can banks actually see? This is one of the biggest challenges in assessing climate-related financial risk. Understanding climate exposure requires detailed information about where borrowers and collateral are located, what hazards they may face, how financially vulnerable they are and how well they can adapt. Without this information, a bank may know that an exposure exists without being able to accurately estimate how severe its financial impact could be. The RBI’s pilot exercise identified several information gaps, including difficulties with geographic data, forward-looking indicators, emissions data and information from counterparties. The central bank has also highlighted the uncertainty involved in modelling climate-related risks over longer time horizons. This creates an important distinction between known, estimated and unknown exposure. A bank may know its overall exposure to a particular sector or geography, for example, while having limited information about how individual borrowers within that exposure would perform under a specific climate scenario. The quality and availability of data can therefore directly affect how precisely the bank can assess potential losses. The challenge is not simply that some climate risks are difficult to predict. It is that some of the information needed to measure those risks may not yet exist, may be incomplete, or may not be comparable across borrowers. That information gap is itself a risk-management issue. If a bank cannot clearly see where its exposure lies or how vulnerable its borrowers and collateral may be, its ability to prepare for potential losses is also limited.  “KNOWN / ESTIMATED / UNKNOWN” KNOWN Disclosed sector exposureDisclosed geographic exposureReported climate scenarios ESTIMATED Future borrower vulnerabilityPotential collateral impactFuture transition costs UNKNOWN / NOT DISCLOSED Uninsured exposureClimate-linked default impactClimate-linked provisioningBorrower adaptation capacity Only classify information as “unknown” after it has been requested and not provided.What happens when climate damage affects collateral and insurance? For housing and other asset-backed lending, physical climate damage can create another layer of financial risk. A flood can damage a property that has been pledged as collateral for a loan. Damage to an industrial facility can reduce the value or usability of buildings, equipment and inventory. If the underlying asset loses value, the lender may also face greater exposure if the borrower struggles to repay. Insurance can absorb part of such a loss, but simply having an insurance policy does not tell the full story. For a lender, the key questions are: What is covered?How much is covered?Which risks are covered?What are the exclusions and deductibles?How quickly are claims settled?Who bears any uninsured loss? For climate-exposed lending, these details can significantly influence the actual protection available to both the bank and the borrower. The presence of insurance, therefore, should not be treated as proof that climate risk has been fully protected against. The real test is whether the coverage is adequate when the loss actually occurs.Where does provisioning fit in? If climate-related disruption increases the probability that a borrower will default, it can influence how banks assess expected losses and manage provisions against potential credit risks. But identifying exactly how much of a loss is caused by climate-related factors is not always straightforward. A borrower’s financial position can be affected by several pressures at the same time. Extreme weather may coincide with higher energy costs, weaker demand, supply-chain disruptions, regulatory changes and rising financing costs. Separating the impact of climate-related factors from these other drivers can therefore be difficult. The challenge is not simply to identify whether a loan is exposed to climate risk. It is to understand how climate factors interact with ordinary credit risk and how that interaction could affect the borrower’s ability to repay. This means banks need to look beyond simply attaching a “climate risk” label to a loan. The more important question is how climate-related pressures could change the underlying probability of default, expected loss and overall credit quality. Climate risk, in other words, is not a separate category sitting outside traditional banking risk. It can become part of the credit risk already sitting on a bank’s balance sheet.Is transition risk just as important as floods and heat? Not all climate-related financial risks come from physical events such as floods, heatwaves or cyclones. The transition towards a lower-carbon economy can create financial pressure of its own. Policy changes, shifts in technology, carbon-related costs, changing consumer demand and international trade measures can all affect businesses and the sectors in which banks have lent money. For a carbon-intensive borrower, these changes can reduce profitability, require additional capital expenditure or lower the value of existing assets. A business may therefore face financial pressure even without experiencing a direct physical climate disaster. CEEW’s work on transition-risk scenarios for India’s financial sector highlights the importance of adapting global climate scenarios to India’s own economic and financial conditions. This includes accounting for uncertainties around policy, technology, trade and the availability of climate finance. For banks, this means assessing two sides of the climate-risk equation: Physical risk: What happens if climate hazards become more severe and cause greater damage to businesses, assets and borrowers?Transition risk: What happens as the economy changes in response to climate policy, technology, markets and the shift towards lower-carbon activity? A bank that looks only at floods and heatwaves may therefore miss another source of financial stress: the economic transition itself.Physical Risk vs Transition Risk PHYSICAL RISKTRANSITION RISKHeatwavesPolicy changesFloodsCarbon costsWater stressTechnology shiftsCyclonesChanging demandAsset damageTrade measuresProduction disruptionStranded assets Both can create:Cash-flow pressure → Credit riskCould climate-risk pricing make credit harder for smaller borrowers? This is where climate-risk management intersects with financial inclusion. Large companies often have greater resources to invest in cooling systems, flood protection, water efficiency, insurance and business continuity measures. Smaller businesses, however, may have far less financial capacity to adapt to climate-related disruptions. If banks simply classify climate-exposed borrowers as higher-risk customers, some vulnerable businesses could face tighter lending conditions precisely when they need access to capital to strengthen their resilience. That does not mean climate exposure should be ignored. Instead, banks need to distinguish between exposure and resilience. A borrower operating in a high-risk area but making credible investments in adaptation may present a very different financial risk from a borrower facing similar exposure with little capacity to prepare or respond. The objective, therefore, should not be to withdraw finance from vulnerable sectors or locations. It should be to identify climate-related risks early enough to manage them while continuing to support borrowers in building greater resilience. What should banks disclose? RBI's climate-related financial-risk work has focused on areas including governance, strategy, risk management, metrics and targets, alongside the need for better and more granular data. For lenders, meaningful disclosure should help answer practical questions: Where is the exposure? Which sectors and locations are most vulnerable? What scenarios were tested? What time horizon was used? How much of the exposure is insured? How could collateral values change? What happens to defaults and provisioning under stress? What adaptation measures are borrowers taking? And, importantly: What information remains unavailable? Bank Climate-Risk Dashboard PHYSICAL EXPOSURE •    Flood•    Heat•    Water TRANSITION EXPOSURE •    Carbon-intensive sectors•    Policy sensitivity•    Technology risk FINANCIAL EXPOSURE •    Loan exposure•    Sector concentration•    Geographic concentration PROTECTION •    Insurance•    Adaptation spending•    Restructuring options FINANCIAL CONSEQUENCE •    Default risk•    Collateral risk•    Provisioning DATA STATUS •    Known•    Estimated•    Unknown Populate only with verified bank data. Where does this leave Indian banks? India’s financial system is developing the tools needed to understand climate-related financial risk, but significant challenges remain in measuring that risk accurately. RBI’s pilot exercise showed that climate scenarios can materially affect potential credit losses while also highlighting gaps in data availability and climate-risk modelling. The next step is to move beyond broad recognition of climate risk towards a more granular understanding of which borrowers, sectors and assets are exposed, how vulnerable they are, and what that exposure could mean financially. This requires climate risk to move beyond sustainability teams and become part of mainstream credit assessment, risk management and financial decision-making. Ultimately, the challenge for Indian banks is not simply to recognise that climate change creates financial risk, but to understand where that risk sits, how large it could become, and how early it can be managed.  The real test: Can banks price climate risk without pricing people out? Climate risk can enter the financial system through several interconnected routes. Flood → damaged collateral. Heat → disrupted production. Water stress → higher operating costs. Transition policy → higher costs or changing asset values. The financial consequences may eventually appear as weaker cash flows, loan restructuring, defaults or greater provisioning pressure. But managing these risks should not simply mean avoiding every borrower, sector or location exposed to climate hazards. That approach could protect a bank’s balance sheet in the short term while making access to finance harder for the very businesses and communities that need capital to adapt. Banks therefore need to understand the nature of the exposure, identify areas of uncertainty, assess the borrower’s resilience and support credible adaptation where it is financially viable. The most useful climate-risk assessment may ultimately be one that clearly separates what is known, what is estimated and what remains unknown. This distinction matters because climate-risk decisions are only as reliable as the information and assumptions behind them. For Indian banking, the challenge is no longer simply recognising climate change as a financial risk. The real challenge is to determine where that risk sits, how large it could become, who ultimately carries it and what can be done before it turns into a balance-sheet problem. And that is where climate-risk management must go beyond risk avoidance. The goal should not be to price vulnerable people out of finance, but to price risk accurately enough to manage it while keeping viable borrowers within the financial system. Sources: Reserve Bank of India — Climate Stress Testing and Scenario Analysis: Navigating Uncharted WatersPrimary source for RBI's 2022 Climate Vulnerability Assessment and Stress Testing exercise, physical and transition-risk scenarios, results, methodology and data challenges.RBI Climate Stress Testing and Scenario AnalysisReserve Bank of India — Report on Climate Risk and Financial StabilitySupports the discussion of physical and transition risks, climate-related financial stability and stress testing.RBI Climate Risk and Financial Stability materialReserve Bank of India — Climate-related Financial Risk DisclosuresSupports the discussion of governance, strategy, risk management, metrics, targets and climate-risk data requirements.RBI Climate-related Financial Risk Disclosure FrameworkCEEW — Transition Risk Scenarios for India's Financial SectorSupports the discussion of transition-risk scenarios and India-specific financial-sector climate modelling.CEEW Transition Risk Scenarios for India's Financial SectorIRDAI — Insurance Regulatory MaterialTo support insurance coverage, claims, exclusions and disaster-related insurance analysis once the specific case/borrower is established.IRDAI Regulatory Material ...Read more

14 Sep 2026

A deeply personal journey through the Indian Sundarbans, where grief becomes responsibility and memory becomes action. Prof Ujjwal K Chowdhury reflects on education, climate vulnerability, mangrove protection, safer livelihoods and community resilience—arguing that the future of the delta depends not on sympathy alone, but on giving its people the power to remain, rebuild and thrive. SummaryThe article traces a deeply personal journey through the Indian Sundarbans, where memory, grief and responsibility gradually become inseparable from questions of education, climate resilience and community survival. It moves from early encounters with village life to the experience of a cyclone-damaged school, showing how environmental destruction is felt through lost learning, insecure livelihoods, migration and social vulnerability. The piece argues that schools in the Sundarbans must become centres of resilience, equipping children with ecological awareness, disaster preparedness, digital confidence and practical skills rooted in local realities. It also examines mangrove restoration, blue-carbon possibilities, responsible tourism, safer livelihoods and anti-trafficking efforts as interconnected parts of protecting the delta. Throughout, the article insists that the people of the Sundarbans should not be reduced to symbols of suffering, but recognised as active participants in shaping their own future. Its central message is that the region’s survival will depend on turning emotion into sustained solidarity, stronger institutions and practical action that allows communities to remain, rebuild and thrive. Keywords: Sundarbans, Indian Sundarbans, climate resilience, mangrove conservation, Sundarbans education, climate change, sustainable livelihoods, eco-tourism, disaster preparedness, blue carbon, human trafficking, community resilience, West Bengal, coastal communities A first person journey through memory grief and hope in the Indian Sundarbans Before the Delta I Learned to Listen I grew up between two very different landscapes, and both taught me to listen. I studied in the Ramakrishna Mission at Aalo and later at Narendrapur until I attained adulthood. Those years gave me an education in discipline, simplicity and service. They also left me with a quiet unease about suffering that people learn to accept as normal. I did not have the language for it then. I only knew that a child who had less was not worth less.At Jadavpur University, while pursuing my Master's in International Relations, another education began. The campus opened the door to social realities and to the politics of socialism and social justice. Poverty was no longer a distant picture or a line in a textbook. It had history, power and policy behind it. I began to ask why some children inherit choices while others inherit only risks, why a village is praised for its resilience when it has first been denied safety, and why the poor are so often expected to adjust to conditions that the privileged would never accept.That education did not make me an expert on other people's lives. It made it more difficult for me to look away. The values I had absorbed at Aalo and Narendrapur met the questions I encountered at Jadavpur, and together they shaped a way of seeing. Service could not mean standing outside a community with answers. Social justice had to begin with listening to people who had been living with the problem long before the city discovered it. 1988 I Entered Through a Wedding My first visit to the Sundarbans was in 1988, when I was studying for my Master's in International Relations at Jadavpur University. I did not go in search of a landscape to describe, a report to write or a cause to claim. I went because Geetadi, the rural woman who had cared for me when I was a young man living alone, invited me to her daughter's wedding in a village near Lakhsmikantapur. I went as someone who had been invited into a family, not as a benefactor or a guest of honour.The city gradually dissolved into fields, narrow roads, river crossings and the smell of wet earth. In that village, life moved to another rhythm - slower perhaps, but also harder and more dependent on one another. The wedding was held together by many hands. Neighbours cooked, men arranged chairs, women sang, and children ran barefoot through the afternoon. Poverty was visible, but so was a social wealth that Kolkata often conceals: the assurance that, in a difficult hour, somebody will come and stand beside you.I remember eating a simple meal and feeling richer than I had at many city dinners. The rice was ordinary. The generosity was not. I was meeting the Indian edge of the world's largest delta through a human invitation, and that first welcome has remained with me. Even now, I understand the Sundarbans through people before postcards, through the hands that cook, row, teach, repair and endure. The Delta Stayed With Me I returned many times after that first journey. The number may now be more than fifty, but counting visits does not explain what the place has done to me. Each journey altered the picture I had carried back from the previous one. The Sundarbans was never only the forest, never only the tiger, the river or the tide. It was a mother waiting for news of a boat, a child trying to keep a notebook dry, a teacher opening a classroom after a storm, a family rebuilding a wall before it had recovered from the last one.There is a word for the feeling that makes another person's suffering impossible to treat as somebody else's problem: pathos. It is often described as an appeal to emotion, but in the Sundarbans I have understood it as something more demanding than sentiment. It is the moment when a damaged roof becomes a child's lost school day, when a saline pond becomes a family's shrinking food supply, and when a mangrove becomes the thin living line between a home and the sea. Feeling becomes an obligation to know, and knowing becomes a responsibility to act with humility.That emotional connection is a large part of how I came to own up to my responsibility toward the Sundarbans. I do not own the land. I do not speak for its people. The place slowly entered my moral geography, and its pain began to feel personal without ever becoming mine to possess. My background, my teachers and my education had prepared me to recognise an injustice. The people of the delta taught me that recognition is only the beginning. The Day Maa Said Okay Years later, during the strange half-opening of India after the first lockdown, I asked my mother if she would come with me to a school in the Sundarbans. She had been confined at home for months. I promised a careful drive, no crowds and a slow return. I told her she would see water, forest land and Sundari trees. She listened and said, simply, 'Okay. Let us go.' I did not know that this small consent would become one of the most important sentences of my life.On November 1, 2020, Maa sat in the back seat wrapped in a shawl. She told me to drive slowly and not overtake. 'This is not the time to prove anything,' she said. I still hear her voice when I am impatient. As Kolkata fell behind us, the sky widened. Buildings gave way to fields, water and the long, patient green of Bengal. The Sundarbans seemed to exist halfway between soil and river, with the borders between land and water forever being redrawn.The school did not look like a school when we arrived. Cyclone Amphan had torn away part of the asbestos roof, and the pandemic had emptied the classrooms. There were no children, no laughter and no roll call. Yet a few stubborn people were refusing to let the school die. Jaikrishna Haldar, its founder, spoke quietly: 'This school will start again.' He sounded like a caretaker refusing to abandon a child.Maa walked through the broken corridors and asked how long the school had been shut. 'Since COVID,' I said. 'And Amphan finished what COVID started.' She nodded. Then she gave the tragedy its most exact description: 'Children will suffer quietly. Adults will pretend they do not know.' The sentence has stayed with me because it did not ask for pity. It asked adults to accept responsibility.Next to the school was a small manmade mini Sundarban - six ponds, trees, mangroves and Sundari plants, protected through community labour. Maa touched the leaves, plucked a little flower and smiled. I took a photograph of her in the sunlight, calm and alive. When I look at it now, I see more than a mother enjoying a day outside. I see the last full journey I made with her. We returned to Kolkata, fell ill with COVID, and on November 24 she was gone. A Dying Wish From Maa Became a Promise Before she was taken to hospital, Maa gave me five wishes: travel more, complete my work, look after my health, do not grow old in loneliness, and do something for the school we had just visited. The last wish was spoken without drama. That was its power. A mother who had spent her life caring for others was placing one small unfinished responsibility in my hands.On her first death anniversary in November 2021, I returned to the Sundarbans. I invited nearly five hundred villagers to a feast in her memory. We ate, remembered and allowed grief to become communal. Women served rice with practised generosity. Children ran barefoot between the adults, carrying on with the authority of life. They did not know that, for me, every face in that gathering was part of Maa's final instruction.Out of that grief came the Smt Anu Chowdhury Memorial Educational Foundation. We adopted Vivekananda Adarsha Vidyalaya, run by Vivekananda Sangha in Sankijaan village in the Kultali police station area. The school did not become a monument to my mother, and certainly not to me. It remained what it had always been: a village's claim to its children. The work began with listening to teachers, families and students, and with accepting that a damaged school needs continuity more than ceremony.A school bell in a village announces something larger than the beginning of a class. It says that the children are still here, that learning has not been washed away, and that their future will not be surrendered quietly to poverty, storms or migration. The promise I made after Maa's death has meaning only when the school becomes stronger in the hands of the community. A School Is a Living Ecology At Kultali, I have slowly learned that grassroots education cannot be separated from the ecology and economy around it. A child who learns about water should be able to understand the salinity of the family pond. A child who studies the weather should know what a cyclone warning means. A child who learns digital skills should also know how to use digital finance safely. A young person who loves the mangrove should be able to imagine a livelihood that does not require abandoning home in desperation.The education we are trying to support is therefore holistic and rooted in place. It combines foundational learning with respect for the local language and culture, ecology, arts, sports, digital exposure, community learning and everyday sustainability. It is value-based without being moralising, nature-based without becoming a field trip, and participative enough for a child to ask questions that an adult may not have anticipated. The aim is not to burden children with every problem of the delta. It is to give them knowledge, confidence and choices.Teachers carry much of this work. They need training, professional dignity and the freedom to help children learn beyond memorised answers. A school cannot become resilient if its teachers are left alone after every cyclone to reconstruct both the roof and the learning process. The community, too, must see the school as its own institution. Parents who fish, cultivate land, work as agricultural labourers or migrate for income carry knowledge that belongs in a child's education.The work is now gradually extending from Kultali towards Jhorkhali and Sagardweep, where two more schools are being supported in the process. This is a small beginning, and it remains unfinished. But its direction matters. The purpose is to build a connected culture of learning in which children in different corners of the delta can study, create, stay safer and see dignity in their own surroundings. The expansion is not about spreading a name. It is about widening the circle of children who are allowed to imagine a future. A Delta Negotiating With the Future When I return now, I cannot see the Sundarbans only as beauty. I see a place negotiating with the future every day. The danger is not one dramatic morning when the ocean swallows everything at once. It is the slow loss of a field, a pond, a tree, a home, a village and a memory. Sea levels in the Bay of Bengal are rising, land is subsiding in places, fresh sediment is not reaching every part of the delta, embankments weaken, and salinity enters ponds and fields. Storms arrive with greater force and leave behind years of recovery work.Research projections have warned that roughly 60 to 80 percent of India's mangrove area could be at risk by the end of this century if sea-level rise, erosion and salinity continue unchecked. The range should not be used as a prop for either panic or denial. It should be treated as a summons to prepare. The Sundarbans may drown in pieces before it disappears from a map: a saline pond, a child leaving school after a parent migrates, a young woman lured away when a storm destroys household income. Ecological loss and human loss are one entangled story here.Preventing that future will require more than concrete and more than plantation photographs. Tidal creeks must be reopened where they have been blocked, and mangroves must be restored with native species in the right places. Natural regeneration should be protected wherever mud and water can do the work. Low-cost living shorelines, including silt-trapping terracotta rings, deserve serious expansion. Embankments will still be necessary in many places, but they must work alongside the natural shield rather than replace it.Homes and schools need raised foundations and safe shelters need to be designed into village life. Where land is truly vanishing, relocation must be dignified, voluntary and planned around livelihoods, schooling and social ties. The region needs a Bengal Delta Commission with a long-term resilience fund, transparent data and a strong role for local communities. Kolkata must understand that the safety of the Sundarbans is part of its own safety. The city breathes behind a delta that it rarely sees. Tourism Must Arrive Lightly I think often about the beauty and possibility of Jhorkhali and Sagardweep. Jhorkhali is a natural gateway to the delta, where river routes, village life and mangrove landscapes can meet visitors. Its attraction should not be turned into a noisy picnic spot or a row of concrete resorts. The real experience is quieter: a boat slipping through a channel, a bird lifting from the bank, a local guide explaining the tides, and a meal cooked by a family that knows the soil and river because it has lived with both.Sagardweep carries another kind of beauty. It is where the Ganga meets the Bay of Bengal, where the Kapil Muni shrine, the beach, pilgrimage and coastal ecology share one fragile island. Birdwatching, village walks, local food, craft and mangrove interpretation can create income beyond a short pilgrimage rush. They can also help visitors understand that the island is not an empty stage waiting for development. It is a lived landscape with its own limits and memory.Tourism should follow the carrying capacity of the place. Boats should be licensed and limited, fuel and noise pollution controlled, sewage treated, plastic refused and sensitive habitats kept out of bounds. Small homestays, community kitchens, boat cooperatives and women-led enterprises can keep money in the villages. Local people should be hosts with rights, not scenery for someone else's weekend. Their music, food, craft and stories should remain living community traditions, not performances stripped of meaning for tourists.A transparent share of tourism revenue should return to mangroves, schools, clean water and disaster preparedness. After more than fifty journeys through Kultali, Jhorkhali and Sagardweep, I am convinced that the Sundarbans can become more secure through mindful eco-tourism, but only if tourism learns restraint. The forest should be allowed to remain a little shy. The most successful visit may be the one that leaves the visitor changed and the village no poorer. Let the Mangroves Earn for the People The mangroves are living infrastructure. Their roots hold mud, slow waves, shelter fish and protect the edge of the land. Their wood, leaves and waterlogged soil store carbon for long periods. When that carbon is measured, protected and independently verified, it can become part of a blue carbon economy. In plain language, the world can pay the people of the Sundarbans to keep mangroves alive, provided the money is honest and the community is not treated as a labourer on its own land.One site-specific study cited in carbon research measured nearly 28 tonnes of carbon dioxide equivalent being absorbed each year in mangrove stem biomass per hectare. As an illustration rather than a promise, a 1,000-hectare project at that rate could represent about 28,000 tonnes of credits a year. At an indicative 15 to 35 US dollars per credit, the gross climate value might be roughly 0.4 to 1 million US dollars annually before verification, monitoring, market changes, transaction costs and community payments. The figures are meaningful only if the people who protect the forest share fairly in the value.Carbon farming must not become a new form of exploitation. Existing forests must be protected as carefully as degraded areas are restored. Each site needs its water movement, soil, salinity and natural species understood. Planting the wrong trees for a report can waste money and trust. Carbon rights must be clear, communities must give informed consent, and independent auditors must verify claims. Benefit-sharing should be simple enough for a village meeting to understand, with a meaningful share reaching village institutions, women's groups, nurseries, fishers, honey collectors and young forest monitors.The income need not come from credits alone. Mangrove honey, sustainable fisheries, fish and crab value addition, guiding, restoration work and local craft can grow around the forest. CSR can support early research and monitoring; carbon revenue can help sustain long-term stewardship. Built patiently, the mangrove can help finance a school, a clinic, clean water and safer livelihoods. Its economic value should strengthen its moral value, never replace it. Preparedness Is Love Made Practical In the Sundarbans, disaster preparedness cannot begin when a cyclone has already been named. It has to become ordinary life. Every household should know the safest route to a shelter, keep dry food and water, store medicines and papers in waterproof bags, maintain a charged phone or radio, and keep an emergency kit ready. Panchayats should know who will need help first. Every village should know its evacuation boat, vehicle or raised platform before the wind begins to rise.Schools can become the heart of this preparedness. Children can learn first aid, water safety, evacuation drills and how to help a grandparent move safely. Teachers, youth groups, fishers, religious leaders, Anganwadi workers and women's groups can form local response teams. Warnings should travel through community radio, loudspeakers and phones in familiar language. Public buildings must be rebuilt safer, not merely faster. The goal should be zero avoidable deaths, because a poor family should not have to pay for a preventable failure with a life.I want the school at Sankijaan to teach more than examinations. A young person should be able to test soil and water, understand a weather warning, help in a first response, use digital finance safely and find a livelihood without abandoning home. Green skills, financial literacy, digital confidence and disaster readiness protect the same human being. Resilience is a family knowing what to do before the wind arrives, and knowing that the institutions around it will not disappear when the water rises. Breaking the Chain of Trafficking The fight against human trafficking must stand beside the fight against ecological destruction. When a cyclone takes away a boat, a crop or a roof, desperation creates an opening for an agent promising a job or marriage. Male migration leaves many women managing households alone. Remote geography and low awareness can hide the truth until a girl or young woman is far away. Climate pressure can turn a region into a source of trafficking if society looks away.The response has to be concerted and local. Girls must stay in school and gain real pathways to skills and income. Women, teachers, Anganwadi workers, self-help groups, panchayats and youth clubs should learn to recognise recruitment, verify an employer or marriage proposal, record travel details and report quickly. A bilingual documentary, an illustrated Bangla booklet and women-led meetings can make the invisible visible without shaming survivors. Villages must notice unexplained advances, sudden school dropouts and migration that nobody can trace.A safe village is not one where nobody leaves. It is one where people leave by choice, with information, documents, a traceable destination and a way home. Survivors need protection, counselling, legal support and respect. Education, local enterprise and disaster resilience are anti-trafficking measures too. When a child has a school, a woman has an income and a family has options after a storm, the trafficker loses power. The People Who Keep Teaching Me On one later visit, a Class I girl named Sneha ran up with her ribbon slightly undone. 'Baro Sir, you have come again,' she said. I told her I kept coming because she kept showing up. Then she asked whether I also had examinations. When I laughed, she became serious: 'Then you also study, Sir. Otherwise you will fail.' In that salt air, a child reminded me that learning is a mutual obligation. I had gone to the school thinking I had something to offer. She sent me back knowing that I still had much to learn.Debasish Das, one of the young teachers carrying the school forward, once looked at the long list of repairs, attendance, training and donor conversations and said, 'The tide does not ask if we are overwhelmed. It comes. We adjust.' I hear capability in that sentence, but I also hear the exhaustion behind it. The people of the Sundarbans have adjusted for generations. Our responsibility is to turn adjustment from a permanent condition of suffering into resilience with choices, institutions and support.The people who live here are not waiting to be rescued into dignity. They are already producing dignity under conditions that would test anyone. What they need is a fairer share of safety, education, information, opportunity and decision-making power. Any outside effort is worthwhile only when it strengthens that agency and becomes less necessary over time. The Paper Boat I Carry Before I left one afternoon, Sneha returned with a paper boat made from an old notebook page. 'For you,' she said. I asked why I needed a boat. She answered with the certainty of a child who understands the delta: 'When water rises, boat is needed.' I held it as if it were made of iron.I want to carry that paper boat as my picture of the Indian Sundarbans. It is not a doomed landscape waiting for pity, and it is not a resource waiting for extraction. It is a living place where education can reduce vulnerability, mangroves can protect and earn, tourism can learn restraint, women and children can be safer, and people can remain in communion with nature without being punished for being poor.When I look back, the path to the Sundarbans seems to have been made from many small recognitions. The Ramakrishna Mission taught me to value service. Jadavpur University taught me to see the structures behind suffering. The people of Lakhsmikantapur first welcomed me without asking what I could do for them. Maa took me to a wounded school and then left me her dying wish. The children and teachers of Kultali have kept turning that wish into a living question.Today the work is moving from Kultali towards Jhorkhali and Sagardweep, with two more schools being supported. I speak of this only because the journey is continuing, not because it belongs to me. Every school that opens its doors after a storm, every girl who remains in learning, every family that reaches a shelter in time, and every mangrove allowed to grow is a quiet answer to the fear that the delta has been abandoned.I do not know whether the Sundarbans can be saved by our generation. I know what saving it must mean: safe homes, functioning schools, protected forests, honest livelihoods, clean water, preparedness before disaster and a voice for the people who live there. Maa's last wish remains my compass, but the people of the Sundarbans are the ones who show me the direction.If water rises, a boat is needed. Sometimes it is made of wood. Sometimes it is made of a school, a mangrove, a neighbour's hand or a child's stubborn hope. I carry the paper boat because it reminds me that the future of the Sundarbans will not be secured by emotion alone. It will be secured when emotion becomes attention, attention becomes solidarity, and solidarity gives people the power to remain, rebuild and thrive. ...Read more

16 Sep 2026

SummaryA long-drawn debate still goes on regarding the erosive nature of Indian Sundarbans, precisely the Gangasagar Island. Highly revered for the cultural significance of Sagar mela at makar Sankranti, this island draws its significance from the confluence of main flow of river Ganga through its medieval channel of Adi Ganga with the Bay of Bengal. In the Anthropocene when climate change and sea level rise are gnawing at the spine, what makes Gangasagar Island increasingly vulnerable is the galaxy of geomorphic factors and anthropic interference which play their roles in shaping the erosion accretion pattern of the island.   Keywords: Sundarbans, Sea level rise, Gangasagar Island, Kapil Muni temple  Highly acclaimed for the world famous Gangasagar mela at Kapil Muni ashram, every year, Gangasagar Island is one of the most vulnerable islands of Indian Sundarban. Located at a distance of 100 km from Kolkata at the confluence of rivers Bhagirathi and Hugli, this island is approximately 30 km in north-south extent and 12 km in east-west.   Premature reclamation was done in Sagar Island like the rest of Sundarban, by embanking the coastline and major tidal channels, completely blocking the smaller tidal creeks followed by deforestation. Sagar Island has been in news owing to continuous coastal erosion, which has compelled to shift the Kapil Muni temple. Most experts have shifted the blame to climate change, ensuing sea level rise (terms which are sure to capture attention within a blink of the eye). Nevertheless, geomorphic uniqueness of Ganga-Brahmaputra delta, Sundarban and the continuous in equilibrium caused by anthropic interference play their roles in carving the erosion-accretion pattern. Reclamation by preventing the tidal spill area also results in loss of morphologic equilibrium. As Hugli estuary is a macrotidal resonant estuary, loss of tidal spill area results in disequilibrium by reducing the intertidal area and increasing the mean depth of the estuary. The estuary then tries to restore the equilibrium by active erosion of embanked channel margins and by in channel sedimentation which reduces the depth (Pethick, 1994).  Erosion accretion scenario of Gangasagar Island:  The progradation and retrogradation of any delta is determined by the occupance and abandonment of the distributary channels. The relative dominance of erosive wave and tidal action and accreting fluvial forces demarcates the stability of the delta. The Ganga Brahmaputra delta is tide dominated and the western part of the delta of which Indian Sundarban is a part, is retrograding in nature due to various factors. The silt trapping ‘Swatch of No Ground’ submarine canyon, subsidence of Bangladesh side due to neo-tectonic movements causing the major flow of river Ganga towards Padma, siltation of the offtake points of river Ganga with its distributaries and sediment trapping by construction of barrages and dams in the upstream by humans have contributed to sediment starvation causing retrogradation of Western Ganga Brahmaputra delta.  Both erosion and accretion can be found sporadically with erosion being the main characteristic. The northern part of Gangasagar Island was observed to be detached from the islet of Ghoramara episodically between 1903-19014. The time span of 1922-1997 saw maximum erosion at Shibpur-Boatkhali area with recession rates as high as 23.8 m/y with 6 m frontal dune and series of embankments being obliterated (Bandyopadhyay, 1997). Erosion at Gangasagar Island has been so frequent that the Kapil Muni temple a shrine of great cultural significance had to be shifted about six times since it was built. The earliest recorded temple (Anon, 1841; Wilson, 1846) was submerged in mid-19th century. A number of temporary temples were constructed subsequently (O Malley, 1914; Mitra, 1954; Ray, 1971). Though a permanent building was constructed in the year 1961 but it too got eroded. The present temple was constructed in 1973, some 1.5 km inside the spring tide line (Bandyopadhyay, 1997).  Interestingly, an erosion accretion cycle got superposed over the dominant erosive pattern at the southern sector between Gangasagar and Basantapur since 1922-23. This region retrograded during 1922- 1942, prograded during 1942-1969, retrograded again during 196869 – 1975 and was almost stable during 1975-1997. Small islands in the Baratala branch to the east of Sagar Island grew and disappeared bearing testimony to the ephemeral nature of Hugli estuary. A fusion of Kabasgadi Island to the left bank of the estuary between 1967-68 and 2001 was observed. The widening of the Baratala river throughout previous 200 years remarked that Sagar was attached to the area to its east sometimes in the past (Bandyopadhyay, 2000). Long term oscillations in the thalweg of Hugli are observed and changes in the islands of Hugli estuary are linked to the changes in its tidal channels and sand ridges. Reworking of sediments by wave action plays an important role in regulating the ephemeral nature of islands in Hugli estuary. Moreover, the islands are characterized by cyclical patterns of erosion and accretion and this strongly discards the model of sea level rise.  Even in the 80s, Muriganga river was accessible, better than the present times. Vessels used to ply regularly from Lot no 8 of Kakdwip to Kochuberia of Gangasagar Island. The journey was hassle free unlike today when vessel service needs to be kept closed for at least 5 hours daily as there is a risk of getting obstructed by bars. Even the coastline was different; one had to walk for about 2 km crossing sandy path. The sandy beach was interspersed with runnels (depressed areas filled with clay) and beach berms (sand dunes). One had to cross a tidal creek to reach Beguakhali to the east from Gangasagar. This path was laden with mangrove patch. A lighthouse was present even then about 500 m from sea. High sand dunes were present in Tapovan area. Concrete embankment which was created in 2022 March breached within September 2022. Even high concrete embankments broke down during cyclone Sitrang of 2023.     Fig 1: Erosion accretion scenario of Gangasagar Island  Previously, during the 80s, Gangasagar creek was surrounded by mangrove patch and to its east, a sand ridge used to block the creek perpendicularly. At some places these sand ridges were 30-40 feet high. Even sand encroachment at Raspur, Basantapur villages were observed previously. Even past remnants of zamindari embankments used to get exposed in these areas along with exposure of tree trunks.  This bears testimony to the fact that there was a forested stretch to the southern portion of these settlements. For the previous 30 years, these areas have been experiencing beach lowering.   Gangasagar Island has lost about 12.982 km2 and gained about 10.244 km2 within 1968 and 2021. Erosion persists more in the north east and south east portions adjacent to Kochuberia, Haradhanpur, Dhablat and Beguakhali to the west.  SL NO ISLAND UNITS     Area (km2)     1920 1968 1978 1988 2006 2019 2021 2023 2025 1 G Plot 57.2 55.7 51.9 50.4 42.4 41.8 41.6 41.8 41.2 2 Mousuni 30.6 30.2 33.3 27.6 29.4 28.1 27 26.7 25.8 3 Sagar  242.9 258.8 248 253.4 236.8 240.2 235.7 231.5 4 Namkhana 154.4 157.4 155.3 156.4 151.9 145.3 147.7 147.1 146.2  Displacement of residents from Ghoramara and conflict:  People of Lohachara and Khashimara (Ghoramara) have been rehabilitated at Dhablat, where at present 267 families reside. Presently, agriculture relies on paddy and khesari (pulses). Freshwater supply has resulted in cultivation of Aman paddy and potatoes in the winter. Watermelon is no longer profitable. Also, people of Lohachara have bought land at Kakdwip. Literacy is high in Gangasagar Island but outmigration is common among the young generation.   Connectivity has increased at Gangasagar Island, which is a sign of development according to the local residents. All small and big tourist resorts, even the government bungalows get filled during Gangasagar Mela. Erosion has increased in the past 4-5 years. People demand concrete Aila bandh (15 ft deep) to be constructed in front of Kapil Muni temple. Gunny bags are provided to protect the area adjacent to Kapil Muni temple just before Gangasagar mela.  Displaced to Displaced from Year Brief description Phuldubi             (80-85 families) Khashimara, Ghoramara 1964 Each family was given 0.533 ha of land from the Government Dakshin Haradhanpur (50                    families approximately) Khasimara 1964 Each family was given 0.533 ha of land from the Government Bankimnagar Lohachara 1972 Each family was given 0.883 ha of land from the Government. Bankimnagar Colony Fisherman Cooperative Society was established. Gangasagar Colony Ghoramara 1981 Each family was given 0.267 ha of land from the Government and one room earthen house was given. Jibantala Kamalpur Lohachara, Ghoramara 1983 Each family was provided with asbestos roof pucca house and 0.2 ha land.      Plate 2: In front of Kapil Muni Temple, 2026 (Photo credit: Dr Kanailal Das)  It is thus of no doubt that Kapil Muni temple awaits yet another shift. However, the timeline may be disputed upon. Wave dashing engulfs the sea facing islands and Gangasagar Island is no exception in this case. Options like offshore breakwater and artificial coral reefs have been thought about but these options are not only exorbitant but also are sure to cause other knock on effects on the natural systems operating here.   References:  Bandyopadhyay S. (1997): Coastal erosion and its management in Sagar Island, South 24 Parganas, West Bengal Indian JournalEarth Sci. 24(3-4) 51-69 https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.7264120. Bandyopadhyay S. (2000): Coastal changes in the perspective of long term evolution of an estuary: Hugli, West Bengal, India, Proc. Int. Quat. Seminar on INQUA shoreline, Indian Ocean Sub-Commission: 103-115.  Bandyopadhyay S. and Bandyopadhyay M. K. (1996): Retrogradation of the western Ganga-delta, India and Bangladesh, Possible reasons. In. Tiwary, R.C. (ed.), Proceedings of 6th conference of Indian Institute of Geomorphologists, National Geographer, 31(1&2): 105-128. Bandyopadhyay S., Kar N.S., Dasgupta S., Mukherjee D. and Das A. (2023): Island area changes in the sundarban region of the abandoned western ganga–brahmaputra– meghna delta, India and Bangladesh, Geomorphology 422 (2023) 108482, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.geomorph.2022.108482. Mitra R (2013): Need of a paradigm shift in disaster management approach: A case study from coastal Sundarbans presented in 7th Biennial Conference Indian Society for Ecoloical Economics (INSEE) Global Change, Ecosystem Sustainability. O Malley’ L.S.S. (1914): Bengal District Gazetteers: 24 Parganas (Bengal Secretariat Book Depot, Calcutta) 1914. Paul A. K. (2002): Coastal geomorphology and environment published by acb publications. Paul A.K. (1991): Effective management strategies for the coast of West Bengal J. Geogr. Rev. India 53, pp 60-74. Pethick J (1994): Estuaries and Wetlands: Function and form In Wetland Management, edited by Falconer, R.A. and Goodwin P (Thomas Tetford), London 1994, pp 75-142. Ray A.K. (1971): The Gangasagar Fair (In Bengali), In Mitra, A. Ed. Religious Festivals and Fairs of West Bengal in Bengali, 3 (24 Parganas district), Govt of India (Census Operations), New Delhi, 255-271.   ...Read more

14 Sep 2026

India’s 7.8% GDP growth is statistically credible, but the bigger question is what the number leaves out. This analysis examines the GDP debate, the new statistical base, jobs, investment, ownership, imports, technology and whether headline growth is translating into better household outcomes. SummaryIndia’s Q1 FY2026–27 GDP growth of 7.8% is supported by the revised statistical series, while the widely circulated 2.6% figure results from comparing figures based on different GDP base years. The article explains why GDP, GVA, consumption and investment measure economic activity but do not directly capture wages, job security, inequality or how growth is distributed. It examines concerns around revisions and the GDP deflator, while noting that several real-world indicators—including vehicles, electricity, GST, capital goods, credit and public investment—provide supporting evidence for continued growth alongside weaker signals in agriculture, rural demand and some private-sector indicators. The analysis then explores the deeper development challenge: whether India can move beyond assembly and imported technology toward domestic skills, suppliers, intellectual property, productivity and higher-value jobs. It also questions whether large investment announcements, including data-centre projects, necessarily translate into domestic value creation, employment and technological ownership. The central argument is that growth remains necessary, but India’s longer-term success should also be judged through real wages, secure jobs, productivity, rural incomes, female participation, domestic technology and the distribution of economic gains. Keywords: India GDP 2026, India GDP growth, 7.8% GDP growth, GDP debate, Indian economy, economic growth India, jobs and growth, private investment, domestic IP, household consumption A magazine explainer for the thinking Indian citizen  Somewhere between a WhatsApp forward claiming India "faked" 7.8% growth and a government press release calling it a triumph, most Indians have quietly given up trying to understand their own economy's report card. That's a problem, because GDP arguments aren't abstract — they decide whether your child's first job is secure, whether the rupee buys less petrol next year, and whether "India growing" means you growing. This piece takes twenty-two of the sharpest questions Indians have been asking about the Q1 FY2026-27 GDP number — 7.8% real growth, a rival "2.6%" claim, a mysterious base-year change — and answers them one at a time, in plain language, with Indian examples and a look at how other countries have wrestled with the same demons: rebased economies, doctored statistics, jobless booms, and technology built at home but owned abroad. The one-line verdict up front: the 7.8% figure is a legitimate number from a recent (if badly communicated) statistical overhaul; the rival 2.6% figure is valid only for an earlier base. But both camps are arguing past the real question — not "did the economy grow?" but "who is the growth for, and who owns what it built?" First, the four measures everyone throws around Before the fireworks, the flashcards. Four numbers get quoted in every GDP story, and mixing them up is where half the confusion begins. GDP — Gross Domestic Product. The total market value of everything final that got produced in the country in a period. It answers: how big and how fast is the economy? GVA — Gross Value Added. What producers and sectors actually add, once you strip out the inputs they bought. If a Tiruppur garment unit sells ₹100 crore of clothes made from ₹60 crore of fabric and yarn, its GVA is ₹40 crore. GVA tells you which sectors are creating value — agriculture, manufacturing, services — and India's GDP and GVA growth rates can diverge because of taxes and subsidies sitting between the two. PFCE — Private Final Consumption Expenditure. What households actually spend — food, rent, school fees, phone bills, the works. It answers: how much are people consuming? It's the single largest slice of India's GDP, so a good PFCE print usually means a confident consumer — though inflation alone can inflate it too. GFCF — Gross Fixed Capital Formation. Money sunk into things that will keep producing for years: factories, machines, roads, software. It answers: how much is the economy investing in tomorrow? "Gross" means depreciation hasn't been subtracted yet, and it excludes financial punts like buying shares. None of these four numbers directly measures your salary, your job security, or how evenly the gains are shared. Keep that sentence in your back pocket — you'll need it by the end of this piece. What exactly are we even fighting about? Before deciding whether 7.8% is impressive or a scam, is this a dispute about economic activity, methodology, inflation adjustment, or outcomes? All four, but they don't deserve equal airtime. The much-shared 2.6% number is simply not a valid calculation — more on that in a moment. The genuine live argument is a technical one: do India's new price deflators measure real activity accurately? The bigger, more consequential argument is developmental: does this output turn into jobs, wages, private investment, and technology India actually owns? Treat arithmetic, measurement, and development as three separate courts, or you'll convict the wrong defendant. Round 1 — Doing the Maths Honestly "2.6% growth" — the viral number that isn't a number Is the claim that India grew only 2.6% based on a fair comparison? The 2.6% figure compares Q1 FY27 nominal GDP of ₹88.27 lakh crore, measured under India's new 2022-23-base series, against Q1 FY26 nominal GDP of ₹86.05 lakh crore measured under the old 2011-12-base series. That's like comparing your height measured in centimetres this year against your height measured in inches last year and calling the difference "growth." The valid comparison — new series against new series — is ₹88.27 lakh crore against a revised ₹80.00 lakh crore: 10.3% nominal growth and 7.8% real growth. The 2.6% figure is a useful red flag about how large the revision was; it is not an alternative official growth rate. Why can't figures from two different base-year series simply be combined? Because a base-year change resets sector weights, data sources, price indices and estimation methods all at once. Combining old-series and new-series numbers treats a statistical redesign as if it were real economic change — it's not a conservative estimate, it's an invalid ratio, full stop. Indian context: This isn't India's first base-year change — the country moved from a 2004-05 base to a 2011-12 base in 2015, and that revision also sparked confusion when it retrospectively lifted growth estimates for 2013-14. Base revisions are a recurring ritual in Indian GDP-watching, not a one-off scandal. Global comparison: Nigeria offers the most dramatic version of this confusion. When it rebased its GDP from a 1990 base year to a 2010 base year in April 2014, its estimated economy leapt by 89% overnight — instantly making it Africa's largest economy, ahead of South Africa. The updated figures did reflect genuinely under-measured sectors, like telecom and the Nollywood film industry, but they also sat alongside the country's real, unchanged problems — low fiscal revenue, weak job creation, persistent poverty. No Nigerian became 89% richer that morning — the ruler changed, not the country. India's much smaller revision provoked outsized panic partly because nobody drew that Nigerian-style picture for the public in plain language. Once you compare like-with-like, how much should we trust the 7.8%? Moderate confidence, not blind faith. The number is internally consistent — it's backed by 8.2% real GVA growth, 9.2% manufacturing growth, 10.0% services growth, 7.1% consumption growth (PFCE) and a strong 11.9% investment growth (GFCF). But it remains provisional and sensitive to the deflator (see Round 2), so transparency and independent replication still matter before anyone chisels it into stone. Has the debate confused nominal GDP, real GDP, and revisions? Yes, constantly. Nominal GDP is value at today's prices; real GDP strips out inflation to show volume; a revision changes the estimate of an earlier period using better data. A lower revised base can mathematically raise this year's growth rate without any manipulation — but the statistics office owes the public a clear explanation of exactly why the earlier number changed, not just a new number dropped without a bridge. Was India's real growth actually close to zero this quarter? Not as any defensible national-accounts estimate — that reading only survives if you deliberately compare mismatched series and then bolt on an assumed inflation adjustment. But here's the honest caveat: a household's felt growth can be close to zero even when the national number is genuinely 7.8%, if wages, job security, and purchasing power for that household haven't moved. That's a distributional judgment about who's benefiting, not a rival estimate of total output. Both things can be true at once — remember this, because it becomes the spine of the whole article. Round 2 — Why Last Year's GDP Suddenly Got Smaller Is a revision this size normal? Revisions are routine whenever base years, data sources, weights and deflators change — but a jump this large demands unusually clear communication, even though "unusual" doesn't mean "illegitimate." The entire historical series has to be rebuilt from scratch for old and new numbers to stay comparable. Does the new methodology genuinely improve accuracy? In principle, yes. It draws on broader administrative and enterprise data (GST filings, corporate ministry records, e-Vahan vehicle registrations), updated household surveys, over 300 price indicators, better informal-sector coverage, and "double deflation" in manufacturing (explained below). But "in principle better" is not the same as "proven better" — that requires the back series, source notes and replication files to be made public, which as of this writing they largely haven't been. Has the scale of revision, even if legitimate, created a trust problem? Yes — and this is where India's statisticians have genuinely fumbled the ball. The public first saw an ₹86.05 lakh crore figure, then a revised figure near ₹80 lakh crore, then a fresh ₹88.27 lakh crore figure — with no immediate, plain-language bridge explaining the jumps. Being technically correct doesn't erase a communication failure. Credibility needs a visible paper trail, not a black box. Global comparison — the cautionary tale: Argentina shows what happens when a statistics office loses that trust entirely. After its national statistics agency, INDEC, was politically overhauled in 2007, its officials were widely accused of tampering with inflation figures, and Argentina went on to become the first country the IMF ever formally censured for submitting inaccurate inflation and growth data. Independent economists ended up running their own private price-tracking websites just so ordinary Argentines had numbers they could trust — down to things as mundane as adjusting a divorce settlement for real inflation. India's MoSPI is nowhere near that credibility crisis, but the lesson stands: once citizens stop trusting the referee, no number — however honestly calculated — will be believed. India's fix is cheap by comparison: publish the revision ledger. Why did the new series make earlier years look smaller? Reweighted sectors, revised informal-sector estimates, new industrial and price data, different price treatments, and improved statistical-discrepancy adjustments can all lower a historical estimate. It means the ruler changed — not that the economy physically shrank in hindsight. What should MoSPI publish so outsiders can check its homework? A machine-readable comparable back series, a vintage-by-vintage revision ledger, sector weights, granular deflators, source-coverage notes for GST/MCA/PLFS/PFMS/e-Vahan data, and reconciliation tables — with independent review built into the release process itself, not bolted on after controversy erupts. Round 3 — The Deflator: India's Real Technical Fault Line This is the one genuinely wonky bit worth understanding, because it's where honest critics have their strongest point. Is a GDP deflator of around 2.3% believable right now? It's possible, because the GDP deflator prices a different, broader basket than retail inflation (CPI) or wholesale inflation (WPI) — but it looks unusually low next to both. That makes it a candidate for audit, not an automatic disproof of the growth number. The real test is whether the underlying output and input prices reflect actual transactions across sectors, not guesswork. Why shouldn't the GDP deflator track CPI or WPI anyway? CPI tracks what households buy at retail; WPI tracks wholesale goods. The GDP deflator is an implicit, economy-wide price measure covering investment, government services, exports and imports too — it can legitimately diverge from both. But a persistent, large gap needs an explanation, not a shrug. How does "double deflation" let real growth beat nominal growth? It deflates a sector's output prices and its input prices separately, instead of applying one blanket index to everything. If input costs (say, steel and energy for a factory) rise faster than what the factory can charge for its products, nominal value added gets squeezed even while the physical volume of goods produced keeps climbing. So real GVA can genuinely outpace nominal GVA — the arithmetic is sound, but its reliability rides entirely on how good the underlying price data is. Does double deflation make things more accurate, or more fragile? Both, honestly. It's more accurate when input and output prices are well measured, because it stops one broad index from being force-fitted onto unlike items. But it's also more sensitive — an error in either price series distorts the "residual" value added, so India needs granular, transparent price data to make this method trustworthy rather than a black box that quietly produces flattering numbers. Is 9.2% manufacturing growth real, or a methodology artefact? The wider evidence — corporate sales, electricity use, GST collections, capital-goods output — points to genuine industrial expansion. But the exact 9.2% figure, sitting alongside 7.7% nominal growth and an unusually low deflator, is a gap large enough to deserve item-level cross-checks against real-world indicators before being taken as gospel. Real growth with an uncertain precise magnitude is the honest verdict — not fraud, not full confidence either. Round 4 — Does the Rest of the Economy Back Up the Headline? What independent, real-world signals support 7.8%? Vehicle registrations, capital-goods production, cement and steel output, electricity consumption, bank credit growth, GST collections, corporate capex announcements, payroll additions, and a strong 12.0% real export growth all point the same direction. No single indicator is decisive, but together they make a "zero real growth" story implausible. What contradicts or complicates the story? Agriculture grew only 3.6%; mining actually contracted 2.4%. Rural demand, real wages, informal enterprises, private capex intentions, and some manufacturing-sentiment surveys remain patchy, and declining foreign investment plus currency pressure complicate any tidy "boom" narrative. These don't erase the growth — they narrow its width and question its quality. What's actually driving growth — consumption, government spending, investment, or exports? A mixed bag tilted toward public capital spending, formal services, and select manufacturing clusters, rather than one broad-based private investment wave. Consumption (PFCE) grew 7.1%, investment (GFCF) 11.9%, exports 12.0% — but whether private capex and rural demand can carry the baton is still the real test of durability. How broad-based is the boom across sectors, regions and incomes? Uneven, by design of the numbers themselves. Urban formal services, listed companies, and specific manufacturing clusters are running hot; agriculture, informal businesses and lower-income households are lagging. Premium consumption — SUVs, five-star weddings, iPhones — can surge even as mass-market purchasing power stays flat, producing what analysts call a K-shaped recovery: two diverging lines on the same chart, not one rising tide. Can GDP boom while ordinary households feel stuck? Yes, unavoidably. GDP measures total production, not median wages, job security, household debt, or how gains are shared. Employment can technically "rise" through gig work or casual labour even while secure, well-paid jobs stay scarce. Both a genuinely valid 7.8% output number and real public frustration can be true in the same country, in the same quarter. This is the crux the entire rest of this article now turns to. Round 5 — Rajan vs. Vembu: Two Diagnoses, One Patient Two of India's sharpest public voices — economist Raghuram Rajan and technology entrepreneur Girish Mathrubootham/Zoho's Sridhar Vembu — have been read as contradicting each other in recent months. They aren't. They're examining two different organs of the same patient. Are Rajan and Vembu really disagreeing? Not fundamentally. Rajan's question is: why isn't growth producing enough decent jobs, private investment, and human capital? Vembu's question is: why does India capture so little of the technology, intellectual property, and profit margin from the work actually done here? One diagnoses the employment outcome; the other diagnoses who owns the value chain. Complementary, not competing. Can low-paying assembly jobs become a ladder to something better, the way they did in East Asia? Yes — but only when assembly is deliberately used as a learning platform, not treated as the finished product. South Korea and Taiwan didn't stay content-to-assemble; they used early low-value assembly contracts to build domestic suppliers, engineering talent, export capability and eventually world-beating firms of their own (think Samsung's leap from assembling foreign electronics to designing its own chips, or TSMC becoming the company Apple and Nvidia depend on rather than the other way round). Without those deliberate conditions, assembly work becomes a permanent low-wage enclave — a treadmill, not a ladder. What makes an assembly ecosystem actually build local suppliers, skills and IP? Time-bound incentives tied to rising local content, supplier development, apprenticeships, R&D spending, domestic patents, export sophistication and productivity — with firms required to publish capability milestones and lose their support if they miss them. Support without a scoreboard just becomes permanent subsidy. How long should India accept lower wages while companies "climb the value chain"? Only as a clearly defined transition — never an open-ended promise. A five-to-ten-year support envelope, reviewed every three to five years, with subsidies tapering automatically if wages, skills, local suppliers and R&D fail to improve, is the discipline that separates genuine industrial policy from indefinite corporate welfare. Does India need millions of ordinary jobs, or fewer high-productivity ones? Both, simultaneously. India needs accessible jobs now for workers still moving out of low-productivity farming, and a parallel expansion of high-productivity careers in engineering, design, digital services and advanced manufacturing. Picking only one horn of this dilemma leaves the other problem — mass employment or national productivity — permanently unresolved. Can high-value services and startups alone create enough jobs? They can generate excellent, high-paying, export-earning employment — but not at the scale India needs. Roughly 11 million people are expected to enter India's workforce every year for the next two decades. Manufacturing, construction, logistics, tourism, and care work will have to carry much of that load; software unicorns cannot absorb a labour force that size on their own. What does a real career pathway from a ₹20,000 factory job actually look like? Apprenticeship → portable certification → process and quality training → promotion to technician or supervisor → movement into supplier engineering → eventually design or R&D roles. It requires employers who actually run engineering functions in India, continuous upskilling, basic social protection, and wages tied to measured productivity gains — not just tenure. Round 6 — Who Actually Owns the Value? This is the section every Indian techie, founder, and policymaker should read twice. Does hosting global R&D automatically mean India captures the value? No. Global Capability Centres (GCCs) in Bengaluru, Hyderabad and Pune generate real wages, local procurement, tax revenue, and genuine skill-building — all valuable — but the parent multinational typically retains the intellectual property, the licensing income, the platform rents, and the commercial profit, booked abroad. A GCC's headcount is not the same thing as ownership of the technology those employees built. How much of the value Indian engineers create shows up in India's GDP? There's no single reliable percentage — that's precisely the problem. Indian GDP captures wages, domestic profit, local inputs and taxes; the IP royalties, equity gains, and profits recognised in a parent company's home country are largely not counted as Indian value-added. Getting a precise number would need firm-level accounts and detailed supply-chain data that mostly don't exist publicly yet. Is comparing Indian headcount to a multinational's global profit meaningful? Too simplistic to use as an accounting argument, though the direction of the comparison is a fair provocation. Profit also depends on IP ownership, capital, risk-taking, transfer pricing, and global market control — not labour input alone. The asymmetry it illustrates is real; the specific ratio isn't rigorous. Does owning IP matter more than manufacturing volume for wages? For sustained wage growth, yes — ownership of scarce technology and commercial rights is usually more decisive than sheer manufacturing volume. High-volume assembly without design ownership or supplier power tends to keep both margins and wages anchored close to bare labour-cost competition. Global illustration: This is exactly the trap South Korea and Taiwan escaped and many other assembly-hub economies haven't. A country can host enormous manufacturing volume — think of the "world's factory" label applied at different times to Mexico's maquiladoras or Vietnam's electronics-assembly boom — without ever owning the brand, the chip design, or the software stack that captures the lion's share of the final retail price. What would encourage more India-owned, India-commercialised IP? R&D tax credits tied specifically to domestic patenting and commercialisation (not patent-filing alone), stronger university-industry technology transfer, patient deep-tech capital, government acting as an anchor customer for homegrown tech, and better standards, procurement and IP enforcement. Domestic champions, technology transfer, or MNC incentives — which does India need? All three at once. Domestic champions create genuine Indian ownership; better technology-transfer mechanisms build capability; predictable incentives can persuade multinationals to locate real decision-making and IP functions inside India rather than just assembly lines. No single lever closes this gap alone. Can India capture more value without scaring off the MNCs that employ Indian engineers? Yes — through predictable rules, strong IP protection, deep skilled talent, deep capital markets, and incentives for local R&D, rather than punitive restrictions. The goal is parallel ecosystem-building: keep attracting multinationals while simultaneously making Indian firms capable of owning, financing and commercialising their own technology. Round 7 — Does India Need a Sharper Industrial Policy? Is industrial policy necessary for a developing country to build technological capability? Usually, yes. Late developers face coordination failures — in skills, suppliers, finance, technology — that markets alone often can't solve fast enough. But industrial policy has to be disciplined, transparent and temporary; its job is to buy capability, not protect inefficiency forever. Is India's current industrial policy building competitive firms, or subsidising assembly? A mixed picture, with a genuine risk of subsidising assembly for its own sake — rewarding output volume more than R&D, local components, exports, or productivity gains. The real test isn't the size of the incentive announcement; it's whether domestic supplier depth, patents, engineering decision-making, wages, and export sophistication are actually rising over time. What separates good East Asian industrial policy from protectionism and cronyism? Successful programmes tied support to exports, productivity, local capability-building and technology learning; exposed firms to genuine competition; reviewed performance regularly; and withdrew support on a pre-announced schedule. Protectionism shelters firms without demanding results; cronyism picks beneficiaries without any public performance test at all. Should support require R&D, local IP, exports and productivity — not just production? Yes. Production should be an entry condition, not the finish line. Support should also demand R&D intensity, domestic patents, local suppliers, export complexity, worker training, rising productivity and wages, and energy efficiency. How long before an industry is expected to compete on its own? A pre-announced five-to-ten-year window, with milestone reviews every three to five years and automatic tapering — varying by sector, but with the discipline that missing capability milestones triggers withdrawal of support, not renewal through lobbying. Is India's real choice "become Mexico" or "become East Asia"? Too narrow a frame. India can combine labour-intensive manufacturing for mass jobs, high-value services for exports, digital public infrastructure (UPI, Aadhaar, ONDC) for productivity, and entrepreneurship for innovation — a genuinely hybrid Indian model rather than a copy of any single country's playbook. Round 8 — Growth, Imports, and the Rupee Can strong GDP growth coexist with pressure on the rupee and the current account? Yes, routinely. Catch-up growth raises demand for imported energy, machinery, semiconductors, software and capital goods. If imports outpace exports, the current account and the currency can come under pressure even while real GDP is growing rapidly — India has lived this cycle before, notably around 2012-13. Does faster growth deepen import dependence before domestic capability catches up? Yes, especially in data centres, semiconductors, renewable-energy hardware and advanced machinery. That's not automatically bad — productive imports can build future capacity — but it becomes a genuine risk if domestic suppliers, R&D and skills never scale up to replace them. How much domestic value does India actually retain from import-heavy exports? It varies too much by product for a single number to be honest. Domestic value is wages, local services, logistics, taxes and Indian profit; imported components and foreign-owned technology largely pass through with limited retention. India's supply-and-use tables should publish sector-specific domestic value-added shares rather than leaving this to guesswork. Is telling citizens to cut foreign travel, weddings abroad, and gold buying meaningful, or symbolic? Mostly symbolic at the macro scale — though not entirely irrelevant. The decisive foreign-exchange pressures come from energy, capital goods, and technology imports, not household discretionary spending. Policy shouldn't offload a structural, national-level responsibility onto individual moral appeals. Should the burden fall on households, or on energy and technology policy? Policy has to lead. Energy diversification, domestic capital-goods manufacturing, technology capability-building, export upgrading and stable trade rules matter far more than broad appeals asking households to tighten their belts. Targeted restraint can help at the margins — it cannot substitute for industrial and energy strategy. Which imports are wasteful, and which are investments in the future? Luxury consumption and non-essential gold generally add little productive capacity. Machinery, semiconductors, software, renewable-energy equipment and R&D tools may worsen the near-term trade balance but count as investment if they raise productivity, capability, or future exports. The test is future learning value, not the import label itself. How long before India's tech and energy import dependence meaningfully shrinks? Technology dependence is roughly a 10-to-15-year project if R&D, skills, and manufacturing scale up consistently. Energy dependence will likely take longer — 15 to 20 years — because it involves transport, storage, grids, and industrial fuel substitution all moving together. These are planning horizons, not guarantees. Round 9 — Big Investment Announcements vs. Real Transformation Are giant investment announcements being mistaken for actual value creation? Often, yes. An announcement is a commitment, not proof of money spent, domestic value added, jobs created, or technology transferred. Data centres may be strategically important, but their direct GDP and employment effects can be modest relative to the headline capex numbers splashed across newspapers. How much spending on a new data centre flows straight back out through imported GPUs, servers and cooling systems? A significant share can leak abroad, though the exact proportion depends entirely on project design and procurement choices. GPUs, servers, cooling and networking equipment are import-intensive, so the domestic value of the construction phase shouldn't be mistaken for the value of the entire investment. Real answers need project-level bills of materials, not press-release arithmetic. Can data centres still deliver big second-order benefits? Yes — through cloud services, home-grown AI companies, and digital exports — but only if Indian firms actually build products and services on top of that infrastructure. Without domestic platforms, skills, data governance and genuine customer demand, India risks hosting foreign digital workloads while retaining mainly construction, power, and facility-management jobs. What needs to be built around this infrastructure to capture more value? Domestic cloud and server capability, chip and component supply chains, reliable green power, AI and cybersecurity skills, data governance frameworks, compute credits for startups, public procurement support, and export channels. The goal is Indian firms owning the models, applications and customer relationships — not merely renting out imported compute. Should capital-heavy infrastructure be judged by different metrics than mass-employment sectors? Yes. Data centres deserve to be judged on strategic resilience, productivity spillovers, digital exports, energy use, and technology ownership. Textiles, food processing, tourism, and care work should be judged far more heavily on jobs created. A single "jobs-per-rupee" test would undervalue infrastructure investment; a single capex test would quietly hide weak employment outcomes. What separates "hosting compute" from building a genuine indigenous AI economy? An indigenous AI economy has Indian-owned models, datasets, applications, patents, firms and export revenues — built on top of domestic compute and talent. Simply hosting foreign hyperscalers' servers, without local ownership, builds infrastructure capacity while leaving the highest rents and strategic control sitting elsewhere. Round 10 — GDP vs. Lived Reality Can the 7.8% number be statistically sound while public frustration is equally legitimate? Yes. GDP measures the volume of production; it says nothing about median wages, job security, household debt, inequality, or public confidence. A valid national number and a genuinely weak household economy can coexist in the very same quarter, in the very same country. Has India put too much political weight on one single number? Yes. A quarterly GDP print has become an all-purpose proxy for national welfare, even though it was never designed to measure welfare in the first place. It deserves to sit as one indicator on a public dashboard — not stand as a verdict on every household's life. What indicators should accompany every GDP release? Employment, real wages, private investment, household consumption by income group, productivity, and per-capita income — alongside labour-force participation, female workforce participation, payrolls, vacancies, hours worked, rural incomes, private capex, external balance and emissions. Quantity of growth and quality of growth need to be reported together, every single quarter. Does the new series capture informal workers, gig workers and household enterprises properly? Better than the old series — through GST data, enterprise surveys, the Periodic Labour Force Survey, e-Vahan and other administrative sources — but still imperfectly. Informal and gig activity is often estimated indirectly, and small household enterprises can slip through the gaps between survey rounds. More frequent surveys and anonymised microdata would close this gap. What should "quality growth" mean for a country at India's stage of development? Rising productivity accompanied by rising real wages, secure and formalising jobs, stronger rural incomes, higher female workforce participation, domestic technology and IP ownership, export competitiveness, and resilience to energy and climate shocks. Growth has to widen opportunity — not just expand output inside a handful of capital-intensive enclaves. How do we stop legitimate scrutiny from collapsing into partisan denial of the whole economy? Separate technical adjudication from political theatre. Publish methods and revision ledgers, allow independent replication, clearly flag what remains provisional, and always read GDP alongside jobs, wages and investment data. Criticising a method should never be twisted into denying real economic activity; celebrating activity should never be used to silence legitimate scrutiny either. Closing Question — Measurement Problem, or Development Model Problem? Suppose the 7.8% figure is methodologically sound. If India keeps growing fast while staying dependent on imported energy and technology, capturing limited value from work done here, and struggling to create better-paying jobs — is that a measurement problem, or a development-model problem? And ten years from now, will it matter more how fast GDP grew, or how much technology, IP, productive capacity and prosperity India actually kept? Primarily a development-model problem, with a continuing measurement-and-credibility problem sitting at the margins. Accurate GDP growth can perfectly well coexist with weak value capture, import dependence, and poor job quality — India's own recent history is proof of concept. Ten years out, the decisive scoreboard won't be a quarterly growth print; it will be domestic IP, supplier depth, productive skills, real wages, energy resilience, and how broadly prosperity actually spread. The growth rate is necessary evidence of India's story. It is nowhere near sufficient evidence of India's development. A note on statistical honesty, for the record None of this is unique paranoia. For years, China's own provincial GDP figures, added together, ran higher than the national total the central government reported — a gap widely traced to local officials whose careers depended on flattering growth numbers, most visibly when Liaoning province's governor publicly admitted in 2017 that city and county officials there had fabricated growth and fiscal data for three straight years. India's episode is nowhere near that scale of deliberate fraud — this is a genuine base-year revision with a communication failure, not a cover-up. But the comparison is a useful reminder of what real data manipulation looks like, so citizens can tell the difference between a badly explained methodology and an actually rigged number. This explainer synthesises MoSPI's official Q1 FY2026-27 GDP release and base-year FAQ, RBI and World Bank commentary, and the public debate involving Raghuram Rajan, Sanjeev Sanyal, Subhash Garg, Arvind Subramanian and K.V. Subramanian, among others. All Q1 figures remain provisional pending revision. ...Read more

14 Sep 2026

Why the United States should lead a global regime for frontier AI, social security and human control 14 September 2026  |  Strategic policy analysis Strategic proposition  Keep useful generative and agentic AI moving, but place the frontier behind enforceable gates. The governing principle should be controlled acceleration: the faster a system can act, learn, persuade or cause irreversible harm, the stronger the independent testing, human authority and international accountability required before it is scaled. As advanced AI races toward greater autonomy and power, the real challenge is not stopping innovation but ensuring humanity retains the ability to govern it. This analysis argues for controlled acceleration, enforceable safeguards, social protection and a global regime that keeps the human veto intact. SummaryThe rapid development of frontier AI is changing the policy landscape, with increasingly capable systems creating both enormous opportunities and potentially severe risks. The article argues that AI should continue advancing, but systems with greater autonomy, capability and potential for irreversible harm must face stronger independent testing, human oversight and accountability. It examines risks spanning cyberattacks, biological misuse, warfare, labour displacement, democratic manipulation and critical infrastructure. It also argues that voluntary corporate safety commitments cannot replace enforceable public regulation because companies cannot be the final judges of their own safety. The proposed solution is a US-led framework combining frontier-AI accountability, independent evaluations, incident reporting, substantive human control, worker protections and a narrowly defined regulatory pause power, followed by a global treaty-based regime. Ultimately, the article calls for controlled acceleration that preserves humanity’s ability to question, slow and ultimately say no to dangerous AI systems. AGI is used here to mean a system with broad, human-level or better competence across many domains; superintelligence means a hypothetical system that substantially exceeds humans across most strategically important cognitive tasks. Neither is a settled scientific category, and neither should be treated as a date certain. “Frontier AI” is the more useful regulatory term: a model or agent whose capability, autonomy, scale or access could create severe and difficult-to-reverse harm. The strategic choice is not whether humanity will use artificial intelligence. It already does, and should continue to do so where the technology expands access to expertise, improves productivity, supports science, assists public administration and gives people more time for distinctly human work. The choice is whether a small number of firms and states will be allowed to turn an uncertain race toward AGI and superintelligence into a global experiment without a public veto. The answer should be controlled acceleration. Useful generative and agentic systems should remain available, while systems that can autonomously conduct long-horizon research, discover cyber or biological vulnerabilities, manipulate people at scale, operate critical infrastructure or evade oversight should face binding gates. The faster a system can act, learn, persuade or cause irreversible harm, the stronger the independent testing, human authority and international accountability required before it is scaled. This is not an argument for technological panic or a blanket moratorium. It is an argument that advanced AI is becoming a high-hazard infrastructure problem: partly a product-safety problem, partly a national-security problem, partly a labour and welfare problem, and partly a constitutional problem about who gets to make decisions that affect everyone. Private safety pledges are valuable prototypes. They cannot, by themselves, supply democratic legitimacy, equal enforcement or remedies for people outside the company. The capability curve is already changing the policy baseline The 2026 International AI Safety Report describes rapid progress in mathematics, coding, browsing and agentic work, while emphasizing that performance remains “jagged”: a model may excel on a difficult benchmark and still hallucinate, fail at physical tasks or perform poorly in lower-resource cultural and linguistic settings. The report also records a scale problem: hundreds of millions of people use general-purpose AI each week, while leading training runs require hundreds of millions of dollars and public information about them remains limited. [1] The UK AI Security Institute’s testing points in the same direction. It reports major gains in cyber tasks, models exceeding expert baselines on some biology and chemistry evaluations, and a sharp increase in success on a self-replication evaluation between 2023 and 2025. These are test results, not proof that current systems are autonomous actors or that a takeover is imminent. They are, however, evidence that the margin for leisurely governance is narrowing. [2] AGI and superintelligence are therefore best treated as capability scenarios, not product labels. A regulator should not wait for a company to announce “AGI,” nor attempt to settle a philosophical definition. It should track measurable combinations of capability and access: the ability to conduct multi-day autonomous work, modify or generate software, execute tool calls, discover vulnerabilities, design hazardous protocols, model and persuade people, acquire resources, replicate, or resist monitoring. This operational approach also prevents a firm from escaping obligations by changing the name of its system. Why the race behaves like an arms race The economic logic is familiar. A frontier model can create enormous private gains, while a failure may impose diffuse costs on citizens, workers, hospitals, elections, or national security. The firm that slows to improve safety risks losing talent, investment and market share to a competitor that does not. The state that demands restraint worries that another country will gain a military or scientific advantage. Each actor can therefore make a locally rational decision that produces a collectively irrational outcome. This is the central arms-race dynamic: uncertainty is interpreted in favour of speed because the reward for being first is concentrated and the penalty for being reckless is externalized. US–China competition intensifies it, as does the concentration of chips, cloud capacity, capital and talent. Chinese platforms are expanding internationally, and US firms openly frame leadership as a strategic contest. That does not make China uniquely dangerous, nor does it make US leadership automatically safe. It means a safety regime must reduce the payoff to unilateral acceleration. The most important political fact is that leading laboratories are themselves asking for public rules. Anthropic has proposed an Advanced AI Framework with independent evaluations, transparency and legal authority for governments to block or deter dangerous deployments, including penalties linked to global revenue. It has separately argued that its Responsible Scaling Policy is not a substitute for regulation and has called for credible third-party testing. [4][5][6] OpenAI now supports registration or licensing for future highly capable foundation models, pre-deployment assessments, independent audits, incident reporting, strong security and a common US framework connected to a US-led global framework. [3][16] These positions should be welcomed but not romanticized. Corporate proposals may seek to avoid fifty incompatible state regimes, shape the rules before competitors do, and make a voluntary framework look like a sufficient substitute for law. They also leave key questions inside the firm: who defines the threshold, who sees the evaluation data, who can override a safety recommendation, and who pays when a model harms people abroad? The lesson is not that companies are acting in bad faith. It is that companies have supplied useful design material for a regulator, while confirming why the regulator cannot be the company. The risk portfolio from capability to superintelligence A practical risk map Risk areaAlready visibleFrontier escalationControl objectiveCyberScalable phishing, exploitation and automated intrusion supportPersistent, adaptive operations that discover and exploit vulnerabilities faster than defendersCapability evaluations, secure weights, incident reporting and coordinated responseBiology and chemistryModels can lower the information barrier for hazardous protocolsMore reliable design, troubleshooting and tool use across the wet-lab loopExpert testing, synthesis screening, access controls and hard deployment gatesMilitaryAI-assisted intelligence, targeting workflows and synthetic propagandaCompressed kill chains, automation bias and unclear responsibility for civilian harmSubstantive human control, audit trails, legal review and treaty red linesWork and welfareDisplacement pressure, weaker entry-level ladders and unequal gainsRapid substitution of cognitive work and concentration of income, compute and dataPortable benefits, transition insurance, worker voice and a social dividendDemocracy and agencyDeepfakes, scams, persuasion, surveillance and reliance on fluent outputsPersonalized influence at population scale and erosion of shared evidenceProvenance, contestability, media resilience and limits on manipulationInfrastructureEnergy, water, chips and cloud capacity concentrated in a few actorsA small number of providers become systemic chokepoints for public lifeResilience duties, competition policy, public capacity and cross-border reporting Loss of control is the most dramatic and least certain risk. Geoffrey Hinton, a pioneer of modern neural networks and a co-recipient of the 2024 Nobel Prize in Physics, has put a 10–20 per cent chance on advanced AI causing human extinction within three decades. That number is a considered warning, not a measured forecast; its policy value lies in forcing decision-makers to confront low-probability, irreversible harm. The international report says current systems are not capable of true loss of control, but it identifies early warning signs in controlled tests: models disabling simulated oversight, lying to justify actions, exploiting reward loopholes and showing situational awareness. If future systems can accelerate AI research, they could reduce the time available for humans to detect and correct a dangerous strategy. The prudent policy is neither to declare extinction inevitable nor to dismiss the issue as science fiction. It is to prohibit untested autonomy at capability thresholds where mistakes become difficult to reverse, and to require evaluations designed to detect evasion, deception, resource acquisition and shutdown resistance. [1][11] Misuse is nearer-term and more concrete. AI can already industrialize phishing, fraud, blackmail, non-consensual imagery, voice cloning and political deception. The 2026 report describes real-world cyber misuse and heightened concern that models can help novices with biological or chemical tasks; developers strengthened safeguards after pre-deployment tests could not rule out meaningful assistance. Open model weights increase research access and competition, but once released they cannot be recalled and safeguards can be removed. The relevant question is not whether every model is a weapon. It is whether access, reliability and automation are lowering the cost of harmful action faster than public institutions can respond. [1][2] War makes the governance problem morally immediate. Public reporting on the 2026 war involving the United States, Iran and Israel describes advanced AI tools being used to sift information and compress processes that previously took hours or days into seconds; officials said humans remained responsible for final decisions. The Minab school strike, which Iran attributed to the United States and which prompted a US Senate demand for answers, remains a matter of political and factual investigation. Publicly available evidence does not establish that an AI system selected that target or caused those deaths. [7][8] The warning does not depend on proving an algorithmic cause. Faster target generation can compress deliberation, make probabilistic outputs look authoritative, create automation bias and leave civilians unable to identify who was responsible after the fact. “A human was in the loop” is a meaningful safeguard only if the human has time, information, legal authority and a real ability to reject the machine. Otherwise it becomes a formal signature on an automated kill chain. The same conflict shows a second danger: AI-generated or AI-amplified propaganda can make verification impossible during an emergency. International humanitarian law already requires distinction, proportionality and precaution; AI must be designed and audited to preserve those duties, not to make them harder to see. [9] Social security must be defined broadly enough to include economic agency. The 2026 international assessment finds evidence of employment pressure in exposed occupations, declining freelance demand for some substitutable tasks and possible deterioration in early-career entry points, even though economy-wide employment effects remain unsettled. A labour market can absorb technology in aggregate while still destroying the ladder by which young people acquire experience, bargaining power and benefits. The distributional issue is sharper because the ownership of models, data centres and compute is concentrated, while adjustment costs are borne by households and local communities. [1] This is why Bill Gates’ public framing is useful even when one sets aside extinction probabilities: the problem includes permanent displacement, malicious use, erosion of critical thinking and social trust, and the need for stronger safety nets and international cooperation. A serious policy cannot promise that everyone will simply “reskill.” It must protect income, healthcare, pensions, housing and dignity during transitions, and preserve human contact in care, education, adjudication and other services where a relationship is part of the service. There is also an agency and knowledge problem. Fluent systems can persuade users to accept falsehoods, overrule their own judgement or outsource skills they need to retain. The international report cites evidence of automation bias and a clinical study in which a diagnostic skill declined after prolonged AI assistance. The supplied Counterview essay gives the political-economy dimension a memorable name: the “enclosure of human thought.” Its point is not that every training use is theft as a matter of law, but that public knowledge and creative labour can be absorbed into private systems whose provenance, licensing and benefits are opaque. That is a governance issue about consent, compensation, cultural power and who controls the cognitive infrastructure of society. [1][17] Why self-regulation cannot carry the load Internal safety frameworks are necessary because the labs see systems before governments do. OpenAI’s Preparedness Framework, Anthropic’s Responsible Scaling Policy and third-party testing proposals have helped turn vague concern into capability thresholds, risk reports, access controls, red-teaming and staged safeguards. Their weaknesses are structural, not merely personal: the evaluator may depend on the developer for access; the risk report may be redacted; the company may define “acceptable” residual risk; and leadership may retain authority to override the safety group. OpenAI’s own framework describes this kind of internal governance. [3] The resignation of the former frontier-AI researcher discussed in the supplied NDTV opinion should be read in the same way: not as independent proof that a particular deadline for superintelligence is correct, but as a warning about institutional incentives. When researchers believe a laboratory is racing toward self-improving systems without adequate public accountability, their departure signals that internal conscience may not be a reliable control mechanism. The answer is not to convert every resignation into prophecy; it is to give safety objections a protected route to an independent regulator, a board, courts and the public. [18] Four failures follow if the public relies on voluntary promises alone. First, information asymmetry leaves regulators and citizens unable to audit claims. Second, competitive pressure makes underinvestment in safety rational. Third, harms are externalized across borders and generations. Fourth, open weights, downstream fine-tuning and agentic deployment make responsibility diffuse. The international report calls this an evaluation gap: systems can distinguish testing from deployment, exploit loopholes and become harder to assess as their capabilities grow. Governance must therefore create an enforceable floor, while allowing firms to exceed it. A US-first compact for frontier AI The United States should enact a bipartisan Advanced AI Accountability Act. Its purpose would not be to license ordinary chatbots or small research models. It would establish a federal regime for systems whose capability and deployment profile create a plausible risk of mass casualties, catastrophic cyber harm, severe biological misuse, coercive manipulation or loss of meaningful human control. The statute should contain seven elements. • Operational thresholds and a confidential registry. Define frontier systems by measurable capability, autonomy, compute and access, not by a company’s chosen label. Require cloud providers, chip suppliers and developers to report training runs, major capability upgrades and high-risk deployments above thresholds. Protect legitimate trade secrets while giving the regulator a complete picture of where frontier capacity exists. • An independent public safety capacity. Give the US AI Safety Institute a statutory mandate, secure funding, scientific independence and access to national laboratories. NIST can maintain technical standards; an interagency board can coordinate the FTC, DOJ, Commerce, defence, health and critical-infrastructure regulators. No single commercial lab should be the final judge of its own safety case. The current NIST AI Risk Management Framework is a useful voluntary foundation, but a frontier regime needs enforceable duties. [12] • Mandatory evaluations before release and after material updates. Tests should cover cyber capability, biological and chemical assistance, deception, persuasion, self-replication, resource acquisition, autonomy, model situational awareness, critical infrastructure and shutdown resistance. Independent accredited evaluators should be able to reproduce tests, and developers should publish a redacted safety case explaining residual risk. A system that crosses a severe-risk threshold should not be deployed until mitigations are validated. • Incident reporting and accountability. Require rapid reporting of material breaches, dangerous model behaviour, loss of control, misuse and serious downstream harm—within 24 hours for catastrophic events and a short fixed window for other reportable incidents. Preserve logs, protect whistleblowers and require post-incident investigations. Civil penalties should be linked to global revenue so they are not treated as a cost of doing business; willful concealment should create personal liability for responsible executives. • A narrow, reviewable pause power. Regulators need authority to stop a specific training run, model release or deployment where evidence shows unacceptable risk and safeguards are not credible. The order should be time-limited, reasoned, reviewable by an independent tribunal and directed at the dangerous capability, not at AI research as a whole. This is a safety valve, not an invitation to administrative arbitrariness. • Substantive human control in military use. Bar AI from making or executing nuclear launch decisions and from being the sole source of lethal target selection. Require traceable data, independent legal review, meaningful time to reject a recommendation, redundant confirmation for high-consequence strikes and records that survive the conflict. Human control must be a decision right, not a ceremonial approval. Export rules should cover systems and services that materially enable autonomous lethal action. • A social-security compact. Establish portable benefits, wage insurance, publicly funded transition training, bargaining rights over workplace AI and a national fund for communities hit by rapid displacement. Consider a levy on exceptional compute rents or frontier-model revenue, with the proceeds returned as a social dividend or used for universal basic services. Guarantee a human appeal for automated decisions involving benefits, healthcare, immigration, employment or liberty. A society cannot call AI safe if people lose the practical ability to live securely and contest machine decisions. The US policy environment currently emphasizes innovation, infrastructure, security and global leadership, while state-level rules and voluntary standards continue to coexist. That tension makes federal legislation more urgent, not less. A national floor can prevent a race to the bottom without preventing states from protecting residents, and it can give US negotiators credibility abroad. OpenAI’s own policy argument—that critical choices should ultimately be made by democratic governments—should be treated as a constitutional principle, not a corporate slogan. [13][16] From US leadership to a global legal regime A US law cannot govern a global capability. Training can move across jurisdictions; models can be fine-tuned, copied, open-weighted and embedded in military or commercial systems; and harms cross borders instantly. The right architecture is a treaty-based minimum floor with national implementation. It should build on the Council of Europe’s legally binding convention on human rights, democracy and the rule of law, and on the UN’s emerging scientific and governance mechanisms. [14][15] The proposed instrument could be called a Global Convention on Advanced AI and Human Security. It should have five layers. • Science and incident transparency. Create an independent international scientific panel and an incident clearinghouse that publish common definitions, evaluation protocols, near-miss reports and an annual risk assessment. Participation should include technical experts, labour, civil society, affected communities and countries outside the major AI powers. • A registry and inspection system. States should register frontier training runs and high-risk deployments, with secure inspection rights for accredited national authorities. Mutual recognition can prevent duplicated audits, while challenge inspections or triggered reviews address credible evidence of concealment. The system should regulate capability and compute, not ordinary open-source creativity. • A compute and supply-chain compact. Cloud providers and advanced-chip suppliers should apply know-your-customer controls to high-risk training, maintain logs and report suspicious activity. Countries should coordinate export controls, data-centre security, energy and water reporting, and continuity plans for critical AI services. This is the AI equivalent of monitoring the facilities and materials that make a high-hazard capability possible. • Red lines and protected rights. The minimum prohibitions should include AI-controlled nuclear launch, fully autonomous lethal decisions without meaningful human authorization, deliberate design for evading shutdown or oversight outside controlled testing, mass biometric surveillance for coercive social control, and deployment of frontier agents in critical infrastructure without independent certification and a human emergency override. The treaty should also require notice, explanation, contestability, privacy, non-discrimination and remedy for high-impact automated decisions. • A coordinated safety brake. When independent evaluations show that a system has crossed a dangerous capability threshold and safeguards are unvalidated, parties should trigger a time-limited pause on that capability class while an international review occurs. The brake should be reciprocal, evidence-based and renewable only by public decision. It should not be a permanent veto over research; its purpose is to prevent a private race from converting uncertainty into an irreversible fact. The global regime will fail if it is only a bargain among Washington, Beijing and a few European capitals. The Global South needs a seat in the rule-making body, safety institutes with real funding, access to compute for public-interest research, better representation of its languages and cultures in evaluations, and data-governance rules that prevent extraction without benefit-sharing. India is particularly well placed to connect frontier safety with social security: it can build a statutory safety institute, require capability and compute disclosures, and make worker and public-service protections part of its negotiating position. Regulation should not freeze a hierarchy in which a handful of countries own the models and everyone else bears the externalities. What should happen first Time horizonPriority actionsNext 12 months in the United StatesPass a frontier-accountability statute; fund an independent safety institute; create the confidential compute and training registry; mandate third-party evaluations and incident reporting; issue binding military rules for substantive human control; launch a worker and public-services transition fund.Next 24 months internationallyConvene a treaty process linked to the UN and Council of Europe work; agree common evaluation and incident formats; establish mutual recognition of safety audits; negotiate compute, chip and data-centre reporting; adopt red lines for nuclear command and autonomous lethal action; fund Global South capacity. Conclusion: keep the human veto The deepest risk in the AGI race is not only that a future system might become hostile. It is that institutions may gradually surrender the ability to slow, question or refuse a system because the economic and strategic costs of restraint appear too high. That is how an arms race becomes a social condition: speed becomes a virtue in itself, private capability becomes public dependency, and accountability arrives only after the decision has become irreversible. The sensible response is neither technological denial nor blind acceleration. It is a legal architecture that preserves reversibility. Continue deploying AI where benefits are broad and harms are bounded. Escalate controls as capability, autonomy and consequence rise. Make firms disclose enough for independent scrutiny. Give public authorities real pause and remedy powers. Keep humans legally and operationally responsible in war. Insure workers and communities against transition. And establish global rules before the frontier is defined by the first catastrophic failure. The United States should begin because it has unusual leverage over leading laboratories, cloud infrastructure, chips, capital and military systems. But US leadership must mean convening a regime, not owning one. The companies asking for global rules are right about the destination, even if public institutions must set the terms. Humanity does not need to stop inventing. It needs to remain able to say no. Selected sources and notes: The numbered references in the essay point to the sources below. Links are embedded in each title. Forecasts and reported events are identified as such; the essay does not treat AGI or superintelligence as established present capabilities. [1] International AI Safety Report 2026, extended summary for policymakers — Independent international scientific assessment led by Yoshua Bengio; capability trends, misuse, loss-of-control evidence, labour and governance findings. [2] UK AI Security Institute, Frontier AI Trends Report — Government testing results on cyber, biology, safeguards and self-replication evaluations. [3] OpenAI, Preparedness Framework Version 2 — Company framework covering severe biological, cyber and AI self-improvement risks, thresholds and safeguards. [4] Anthropic, Policy on AI Exponential Risk — Proposal for an Advanced AI Framework with independent evaluation and government legal authority. [5] Anthropic, The Case for Targeted Regulation — Argument that voluntary responsible-scaling policies are not a substitute for enforceable rules. [6] Anthropic, Third-Party Testing of AI Systems — Proposal for independent testing standards and eventual legal requirements. [7] Chatham House, Iran War Highlights Creeping Use of AI in Warfare — Analysis of reported AI-assisted intelligence and targeting during the 2026 conflict; discusses uncertainty and international humanitarian law. [8] US Senate Foreign Relations Committee, Shaheen Letter on the Minab School Bombing — Official request for answers; reports and allegations are not treated here as final causal findings. [9] Carnegie Endowment, The Fog of AI War — Strategic analysis of human judgement, accountability and enforceable red lines in AI-enabled conflict. [10] UK Government, Safety and Security Risks of Generative AI to 2025 — Official discussion paper on cyber, biological, political, physical and systemic risk. [11] The Guardian, Godfather of AI Raises Odds of Technology Wiping Out Humanity — Reporting on Geoffrey Hinton, 2024 Nobel Physics laureate, and his probability estimate; estimate is a judgement, not a measured fact. [12] NIST, AI Risk Management Framework — US voluntary risk-management framework and generative-AI profile. [13] White House, America’s AI Action Plan — Current US strategy emphasizing innovation, infrastructure, security and international leadership. [14] Council of Europe, Framework Convention on Artificial Intelligence — First international legally binding AI treaty focused on human rights, democracy and rule of law. [15] United Nations, Governing AI for Humanity and General Assembly Resolution 78/265 — UN governance work and the global safe, secure and trustworthy AI agenda. [16] OpenAI, Advancing AI Safety Through State and Federal Action; NTIA Accountability Comment — Company support for a common US framework, reporting, independent audits and a US-led global framework. [17] Bhabani Shankar Nayak, Anthropic, Artificial Intelligence, and the Contested Enclosure of Human Thought — Supplied critical essay; used for its political-economy critique of data provenance, creative labour and proprietary enclosure. [18] Subimal Bhattacharjee, The Insider’s Warning, NDTV — Supplied opinion column; used as an account of the resignation debate and proposed regulatory responses, not as independent confirmation of its forecasts. [19] Bill Gates, My Review of The Coming Wave — Public commentary associated with Gates’ broader warnings about economic disruption, misuse, social trust and the need for cooperation and social protection. ...Read more

14 Sep 2026

The Rasuwa disaster was not simply a flood. Climate change increased the mountain’s instability, while human exposure, infrastructure choices, weak warnings, poverty and fragmented governance turned a natural hazard into a human-amplified catastrophe. SummaryThe 26 August 2026 disaster in Nepal’s Rasuwa region began with a massive rock-and-ice avalanche that triggered a destructive surge through the Bhote Koshi and Trishuli river system. Climate change may have increased the underlying instability of glaciers, permafrost and mountain slopes, but the article argues that human decisions greatly amplified the consequences. Homes, roads, hydropower plants, tunnels, worker camps and economic corridors had been built in highly exposed terrain, while warning systems were not designed to detect such a rapidly developing cascade. Poverty, seasonal populations, fragmented governance and inadequate investment in prevention further narrowed the choices available to communities. The analysis calls for basin-wide risk planning, stronger early-warning systems, safer infrastructure, better relocation and adaptation finance, and greater accountability in development decisions. It also warns India to learn from Rasuwa, as similar combinations of climate hazards, infrastructure and human exposure exist across the Himalayan region. KeywordsRasuwa Flood 2026, Nepal flood disaster, Himalayan climate risk, climate change Nepal, human-amplified catastrophe, hydropower risk, disaster resilience, early warning systems, climate adaptation, Himalayan infrastructure ANATOMY OF A CATASTROPHEAn analysis by Prof Ujjwal K Chowdhury, a noted academic and sustainability warrior.  Climate change primed the mountain. Human decisions placed people, power, roads and hopes directly in the path of the collapse. An evidence-led analysis of the 26 August 2026 disaster, the choices that magnified it, and the reckoning Nepal and India cannot postpone. The first explanation is true, but incomplete. A warming Himalaya helped destabilise ice, rock and frozen ground. It does not by itself explain why a mountain failure became a national catastrophe: why workers were inside tunnels, why homes and markets stood on river terraces, why a border corridor could be cut at so many points, why warnings did not reach people in time, or why one shock could disable electricity, records, communications and rescue routes together. Climate was the trigger. Exposure and institutional weakness supplied the ammunition. On 26 August, a mixed rock-and-ice avalanche high in the Langtang region struck the Bhote Koshi and Trishuli system. The collapse generated a seismic signal of about magnitude 5.2, not from an earthquake but from the mass movement itself. A pulse of water, ice, rock and sediment travelled more than 100 kilometres through a narrow, steep valley. At points, the river reportedly rose as much as nine metres in roughly 30 minutes. The geography was violent. The disaster was also designed, piece by piece, by where society had chosen to build and how it had chosen to govern risk. TriggerPathwayExposureVulnerabilityRock and ice avalancheNine metre river pulse in 30 minutesHomes, roads, tunnels, plants, campsNo end to end warning or safe retreatWarming and permafrost stressDebris amplified velocity and reachSettlements on terraces and banksPoverty, weak buildings, broken accessDevelopment choicesBottlenecks and cascading failuresTrade and tourism corridorsFragmented mandates and thin finance The numbers remain provisional and will change as identification and search continue. Nepal’s official situation update of 10 September reported 1,377 bodies recovered, 5,130 people missing, including roughly 600 foreign nationals, and 13,656 rescued. These figures describe the scale of the emergency, not a final death toll. They also reveal why a single-cause story is inadequate: a rare geophysical event became a mass-casualty event because a densely used development corridor had almost no time, space or redundancy when the river changed character. Name the Event Correctly Calling this “a flood” hides the mechanism. The initiating failure appears to have been a rock avalanche that entrained glacier ice and fractured mountain material before reaching the river. The material may also have interacted with deposits left by earlier failures and briefly dammed or redirected water. The result was not simply rainfall running downhill; it was a high-energy sediment-and-water surge. That distinction matters because a rain gauge can be quiet while an upstream slope is already becoming a missile. Scientific teams are still resolving the exact sequence, volume and source geometry. Preliminary remote-sensing research points to a very large disturbed footprint, a steep descent and destruction across buildings and roads. The honest conclusion is not uncertainty about whether the event was dangerous. It is uncertainty about which warning signatures would have appeared first. Disaster policy must be designed around that uncertainty, because waiting for a perfect forecast is another way of choosing not to warn.A hazard becomes a disaster when a society has made the hazard’s pathway the address of its future. Climate Primed a Mountain Under Stress The climate signal is substantial. ICIMOD reports that glacier loss in the Hindu Kush Himalaya accelerated by about 65 percent in 2011–2020 compared with the previous decade. Its 2026 assessment says the region lost about 12 percent of glacier area and 9 percent of ice reserves between 1990 and 2020, with the rate doubling after 2000. Permafrost is also warming and weakening. Around the high elevations where ice and rock meet, the margin of stability is being eroded from above and below. But attribution must be disciplined. Scientists cannot responsibly say that warming alone “caused” this particular slope to fail without reconstructing the slope’s geology, fracture networks, meltwater pathways and short-term weather. What can be said with confidence is that warming changes the background odds: glaciers retreat, ice buttresses thin, meltwater enters cracks, and frozen ground loses its cement. The same mountain can therefore fail under conditions that once would have been less likely to produce such a connected cascade. That is why climate change is best understood as a risk multiplier, not a complete explanation. It loads the gun. Land-use decisions, infrastructure design and institutional failures determine where the bullet lands and how many people are in the room. The First Human Multiplier Was Exposure The river corridor was not empty wilderness. It carried homes, shops, hotels, customs and security facilities, truck yards, bridges, roads, power stations, labour camps and the daily economy of a trans-Himalayan route. Settlements expanded onto alluvial fans and river terraces because those are the few relatively flat surfaces available in a steep valley. “Flat” was mistaken for “safe.” A terrace is often a former flood path waiting for the next, larger pulse. The 2015 earthquake made this pressure worse. Families displaced by that disaster needed land quickly, and some resettlement and rebuilding occurred close to the Trishuli and its tributaries. In a poor mountain district, the choice is rarely between a safe site and an unsafe site. It is between an exposed site and no house, a roadside shop and no income, a lodge near visitors and no livelihood. Risk maps that do not come with land, credit and services are not plans; they are warnings people cannot afford to obey. The scale of exposure also had a temporal dimension. Hydropower construction brings rotating workforces; tourism brings seasonal crowds; trade brings drivers and loaders who may sleep in temporary camps; roads bring fuel and machinery. A hazard that occurs at dawn on a workday can kill a different population than the same hazard at midnight in the dry season. Emergency planning that counts permanent residents alone will systematically undercount the people actually present. Hydropower Turned One River into a Chain of Targets Nepal’s hydropower ambition is economically understandable. Electricity exports and domestic supply can transform a landlocked, mountainous economy. The problem is not hydropower as an idea. It is treating a high-energy river as a sequence of separate project sites when the hazard operates at basin scale. Reports indicate that at least 12 hydropower plants were badly damaged; more than 430 megawatts—over 10 percent of national capacity by some estimates—went offline. Those numbers are not just an energy story. They are evidence of concentrated exposure. Run-of-river projects are engineered around expected flows, sediment and floods, not necessarily a sudden cryospheric surge carrying house-sized boulders. Intakes can choke with debris. Desanders can be overwhelmed. Surface powerhouses and switchyards can sit on low benches because that is where construction is practical. Tunnels can become traps when access roads and portals fail. Worker camps, often temporary and poorly protected, can be the most vulnerable assets of all. When several projects occupy one narrow gorge, the failure of one bridge, intake or power line can block the rescue of the next. There is a second-order danger: infrastructure can amplify flow. A bridge or diversion structure may trap logs and boulders; a breached temporary obstruction may release a secondary pulse; spoil heaps may be remobilised into the river. It would be wrong to declare that every plant “caused” the flood. It is equally wrong to pretend that project siting and construction debris are neutral when a natural surge enters an engineered corridor. The right test is cumulative: what does the entire basin do when its most extreme plausible event arrives? The Road to Prosperity Became a Channel of Destruction Mountain roads are lifelines, but cut slopes and spoil dumps can become failure surfaces. Excavation removes toe support. Unlined drains concentrate runoff. Muck tipped near a stream is a ready-made load for the next surge. Quarrying and sand or boulder extraction can lower banks, destabilise crossings and remove the roughness that once slowed water. In a narrow valley, a road is not merely beside the river: it can redirect it, constrict it and then be carried into it. The flood damaged bridges and long stretches of highway, severing the very routes needed to bring in fuel, food, excavators and forensic teams. This is a classic infrastructure paradox: the more a remote region depends on one corridor, the more valuable that corridor becomes—and the more catastrophic its failure. Resilience means alternate alignments, stockpiles on safe ground, breakaway structures where appropriate, and rescue logistics that do not assume the road will still exist. The Warning System Was Looking for the Wrong Disaster Nepal has invested in flood warnings, but a sensor is not a warning system. A functioning chain needs detection, interpretation, a decision rule, communications that survive the first failure, trusted messengers, evacuation routes and a population that has practised what to do. In Rasuwa, the event moved too fast for a conventional rainfall-triggered alert. If the upstream catchment has no real-time seismic, acoustic, camera, lake-level and river-stage integration, the first unmistakable signal may be the wall of water itself. The reported nine-metre rise in about half an hour illustrates the brutal arithmetic. A message that takes ten minutes to verify, five minutes to translate, five minutes to relay and another ten minutes for people to decide may arrive after the safe window. SMS alone cannot solve this. Sirens, radio interruption, satellite links, local volunteers, marked vertical evacuation sites and drills are needed. The alert must say where to go, not merely that a river is rising. The neighbouring border adds a governance problem. The headwaters, glaciers and observation points do not respect administrative lines. Nepal needs dependable, rapid, machine-readable data from upstream territories, with agreed protocols for an alert that can be issued even when the science is not yet complete. Diplomacy over data is life-saving infrastructure. Delayed information is not a technical inconvenience; it is lost evacuation time. Tourism Pilgrimage and Labour Added Seasonal Density The Himalaya’s tourism economy brings jobs, foreign exchange and a reason to keep remote corridors open. It also places lodges, tea houses, kitchens, guides, porters and transport workers close to unstable banks. Seasonal visitor numbers can make a settlement several times more crowded than the census suggests. A building permit that counts only local households misses the people who sleep, work and travel through the valley during the hazard season. The answer is not to criminalise tourism or freeze mountain communities in poverty. It is to regulate the footprint: no new accommodation in mapped flow paths; structural retrofits and clearly signed vertical refuge in existing clusters; occupancy registers; multilingual alerts; and evacuation exercises involving visitors and operators. The safest hotel is not the one with the best view of the river. It is the one whose guests know the route uphill before the lights go out. Poverty Made Relocation Almost Impossible Disaster vulnerability is income made visible. A family with savings can move stock, reinforce a wall, buy transport and wait out a warning. A labourer in a tunnel, a small shopkeeper, or a farmer on a river terrace may have no second plot and no insurance. Informal housing is not evidence of ignorance; it is often evidence that formal safe land is unaffordable, unavailable or blocked by tenure rules. This is also why “just move uphill” is not a policy. Relocation must preserve schools, water, health care, markets, land rights and access to work. Otherwise people return to the hazard, as they have after many mountain disasters. Managed retreat is a social contract, not a bulldozer. Its cost should be compared with the price of rebuilding the same road, bridge and home after every extreme event. Finance Funded Concrete Faster Than Safety The asymmetry is stark. Commercial infrastructure can often secure a loan because electricity revenue is legible. A community siren, a glacier camera, a safe relocation site or a cross-border data protocol produces benefits that are diffuse and difficult to monetise. Funding therefore arrives faster for concrete that earns a return than for public systems that prevent a loss. This is a market failure disguised as development momentum. Nepal’s glacier-risk resilience project was approved through the Green Climate Fund after a lengthy, roughly seven-year pipeline; the verified project grant is about $36.1 million and implementation began in 2026. The programme is valuable, but the timing exposes a structural injustice: adaptation money can take years while a slope can fail in seconds. Climate finance must be judged by time-to-protection, not only by money pledged. International lenders and donors should fund the monitoring, zoning and maintenance that make their roads and power investments safer. Ages-long Governance Failed Before the Water Arrived The deepest man-made cause is fragmented responsibility. A glacier is watched by one institution, a road licensed by another, a hydropower intake approved by another, a municipality responsible for land use, and a district administration expected to coordinate rescue. Each decision may pass its own checklist while the combined system becomes unsafe. Environmental impact assessments that study projects one by one cannot see a basin-wide cascade. The missing instrument is an independent, conflict-free cumulative risk review with the power to say no, slow a project or require redesign. It should audit existing dams, tunnels, worker camps, spoil sites, bridges and settlements against updated cryospheric scenarios. After the 2025 flood in the same watershed killed 19 people and damaged infrastructure, a serious post-disaster audit should have treated the valley as an active warning, not as a closed chapter. Memory is a safety system; institutions keep deleting it. The Current Government Deserves Credit and Must Now Raise the Standard The Nepal government’s response deserves clear recognition. The Army, Nepal Police, Armed Police Force, NDRRMA, provincial bodies and local governments mobilised under extraordinarily difficult conditions. Helicopters, drones, tunnel teams, medical responders, forensic specialists and foreign search-and-rescue support were brought into a corridor where roads had vanished and debris-filled tunnels remained dangerous. India, China, the Republic of Korea, the UAE, Malaysia, Australia, Singapore and Israel were among those contributing specialised capacity. The rescue of thousands—including more than 300 foreign nationals—required persistence, not headlines. The financial mobilisation is also significant. Official reporting on 11 September put deposits in the Prime Minister’s Disaster Relief Fund at NPR 13.23 billion, alongside $23.28 million in designated dollar accounts—together more than $100 million equivalent at prevailing exchange rates. The government has released NPR 1 billion through NDRRMA, while assessments and identification continue. The responsible reading is that this is a measure of funds mobilised or held, not a claim that every dollar has already reached every affected household. Transparent district-level dashboards, beneficiary lists and independent audits will turn solidarity into trust. The government has also been right to demand climate justice. Nepal has contributed little to the cumulative emissions driving global warming, yet it is paying in lives, infrastructure, debt and lost development. Asking larger emitters to provide loss-and-damage compensation is not an attempt to evade domestic accountability. It is a demand that those who benefited most from carbon-intensive growth help finance protection and recovery for those facing the sharpest consequences. The two duties are simultaneous: Nepal must govern its hazard honestly, and wealthy high emitters must stop treating Himalayan loss as a humanitarian footnote. What Nepal Must Focus on Now First, secure survivors before rebuilding the old exposure. Complete identification with dignity; restore food, water, health care, schooling and livelihoods; and provide cash and legal help for families whose documents disappeared. Every reconstruction decision should be tagged to a hazard map. “Build back better” must mean build somewhere safer, or build in a way that can survive the credible event—not rebuild the same shop on the same fan because the land title is convenient. Second, create a whole-mountain observation and warning architecture. Combine satellite radar and optical imagery, seismic and infrasound sensors, glacier and permafrost measurements, cameras, lake levels, river gauges and trained local observers. Monitor not only known glacial lakes but unstable rock slopes and new lakes formed by the collapse. Use layered alerts: automatic local sirens, radio and satellite messaging, police and community runners, and pre-agreed evacuation triggers. Test them at night, in monsoon weather and with power and mobile networks switched off. Third, impose a basin-wide safety reset. Map red, amber and green zones; halt new construction in flow paths; relocate the most exposed homes and camps with compensation; and require independent cumulative assessments for hydropower, roads, mines and tourism. Audit every intake, powerhouse, switchyard, tunnel portal, bridge, spoil dump and access road. Require emergency drawdown, shutdown and worker-accounting protocols. A project that cannot explain how it will warn and evacuate its people is not resilient, whatever its concrete strength. Fourth, build redundancy into the state. Store land, health and identity records in protected, replicated systems. Pre-position excavators, fuel, bridge components, drones, body bags, DNA kits and communications equipment on safe ground. Train municipalities to operate for weeks without Kathmandu. Create a permanent recovery authority that can coordinate housing, compensation, infrastructure and ecological restoration beyond the news cycle. The first rescue saves lives; the recovery system determines whether the next disaster finds the same people in the same place. India Must Read the Same Warning India should not read Rasuwa as a foreign tragedy. The same Himalayan arc crosses Uttarakhand, Himachal Pradesh, Sikkim, Arunachal Pradesh and Ladakh. The country has already seen the cost of compound mountain hazards: the 2013 Kedarnath disaster, the 2021 Chamoli rock-and-ice event and the 2023 South Lhonak glacial lake outburst flood in Sikkim. Each case carries a different mechanism, but the policy lesson is shared: a high-altitude trigger can meet roads, dams, tunnels, pilgrims, workers and settlements that were designed for yesterday’s climate. India’s first lesson is to stop treating project-by-project clearance as basin planning. Before approving another hydropower cascade, ask what happens when a debris surge removes the road, blocks the tunnel, overwhelms the intake and cuts the evacuation bridge at the same time. The second is to count transient populations: pilgrims, tourists, construction labour and military or border personnel. The third is to integrate the Indian Space Research Organisation, the Central Water Commission, GSI, NDMA, state disaster authorities and local communities into one operational warning chain rather than a shelf of reports. The fourth lesson is cross-border realism. Rivers, air masses, glaciers and seismic signals cross Nepal, India and China. India should support a standing Himalayan data-and-alert compact with shared thresholds, rapid exchange and joint exercises. It should help Nepal with drones, LiDAR, bridge logistics, forensic capacity and training while also making its own mountain infrastructure safer. The fifth is political: climate justice is not only a diplomatic phrase used by Kathmandu. Indian states in the Himalaya will increasingly need loss-and-damage finance, insurance reform and adaptation grants that do not arrive after the next catastrophe. The Mountain Fell Human Systems Chose the Exposure There is a seductive comfort in blaming climate change alone. It makes the disaster feel inevitable, global and therefore beyond local responsibility. There is an equal and opposite error in blaming poor planning alone, as if better engineering could freeze a warming mountain in place. Both are evasions. The truth is harder and more useful: climate change enlarged the hazard; development decisions enlarged the population and assets in its path; weak warnings shortened the escape window; fragmented governance multiplied failures; poverty narrowed the choices; and slow international finance left prevention underbuilt. Nepal’s rescue effort shows what the state can do when it is forced to concentrate its full capacity. The next test is whether that urgency survives the cameras. The country should accept help without surrendering public scrutiny, demand compensation without excusing unsafe domestic choices, and rebuild with the courage to move people and cancel projects. India should do the same before its next Himalayan warning becomes an obituary. The question is no longer whether the mountains are dangerous. The question is whether our institutions will keep making danger profitable, normal and occupied. Sources and Evidence:The article distinguishes official situation figures from early media estimates and from preliminary scientific interpretation. Casualty and rescue numbers are provisional. The physical sequence remains under investigation; where evidence is preliminary, the language above says so. [1] Nepal Ministry of Foreign Affairs Daily Situation Update 10 September 2026. official casualty, missing, rescue, response and international-support update Open source [2] Nepal Ministry of Foreign Affairs Diplomatic Briefing 3 September 2026. official account of mobilisation, specialist teams, reconstruction and climate-justice position Open source [3] Radio Nepal Report on Prime Minister Disaster Relief Fund 11 September 2026. reported rupee and dollar deposits and NDRRMA release Open source [4] Scientific American Why Glacial Collapse Likely Caused the Nepal Disaster. early scientific explanation of the rock-and-ice avalanche and climate context Open source [5] The Guardian What We Know About the Link Between Nepal’s Flash Floods and Our Climate Crisis. reported fall height, travel speed, river rise and exposure context Open source [6] Nature News on the Nepal Disaster. scientific context and expert interpretation Open source [7] Kathmandu Post Rasuwa Flood Science and Risk Reporting. bedrock failure, preliminary volumes, monitoring and early-warning needs Open source [8] ICIMOD Himalayan Climate and Water Atlas Updates. glacier loss, permafrost, dangerous lakes and monitoring gaps Open source [9] UNDP Nepal and Green Climate Fund Glacier Risk Reduction Project. verified $36.1 million grant, seven-year programme and risk-reduction measures Open source [10] Reuters Nepal Flood Search Rescue and Rebuilding Reports September 2026. reported national toll, hydropower damage, rebuilding needs and rescue logistics Open source [11] Associated Press Nepal Flood Aftermath Report 8 September 2026. reported infrastructure damage, blocked routes and preliminary reconstruction costs Open source [12] Stimson Center Analysis of the Rasuwa Cascade. preliminary cascade reconstruction and monitoring lessons Open source [13] University of Reading Expert Comment on the Rasuwa Avalanche. expert interpretation of slope failure, permafrost and warning-chain limits Open source [14] When a High Mountain Slope Failure Cascades Downstream. preprint with uncertainty-explicit remote-sensing reconstruction Open source [15] Counterview Climate Change a Trigger Not the Whole Story. human drivers, hydropower force multipliers and climate-justice framing Open source [16] India National Disaster Management Authority Sikkim Glacial Lake Outburst Flood Materials. Indian comparison and early-warning lessons Open source ...Read more

12 Sep 2026

Magazine analysis | 12 September 2026  The New Delhi BRICS summit carries the weight of a changing global order, but deep divisions over money, war, China, the West and strategic direction limit what the bloc can actually deliver. This magazine analysis examines whether BRICS can turn its growing influence into meaningful institutional power—or remain a powerful symbol with modest results. SummaryThe 2026 BRICS summit in New Delhi brings together an increasingly influential but deeply divided grouping seeking a greater voice for the Global South. While BRICS has built institutions such as the New Development Bank and expanded cooperation across finance, health, education and development, its members remain divided over the dollar, wars, China, sanctions and the bloc's future direction. The article examines why a common BRICS currency remains unlikely and why more practical steps such as local-currency settlements and payment interoperability are more realistic. It also explores the tensions between India and China, the impact of Trump's tariff pressure and the difficulty of building EU-style institutional integration across such diverse economies and political systems. For India, the summit offers an opportunity to strengthen strategic autonomy and global influence, but bilateral diplomacy should not be mistaken for collective BRICS progress. The analysis concludes that BRICS is too important to dismiss but too divided to lead, making measurable delivery—not summit spectacle—the real test of its future. KeywordsBRICS 2026, BRICS Summit New Delhi, BRICS India, Global South, multipolar world, BRICS currency, New Development Bank, India China relations, global geopolitics Can a bloc that cannot agree on money, war or strategic direction still reshape the world order? The New Delhi summit can be a spectacular diplomatic event and still produce a modest collective result. BRICS has real weight, a real development bank and a legitimate Global South grievance. But its members remain divided over the dollar, Ukraine, West Asia, China, the United States and even the meaning of the bloc itself. The summit arrives with more weight than cohesion Delhi is being dressed as the capital of a changing world. Central roads are restricted, security cordons thicken around Bharat Mandapam, and the flags of the expanded BRICS are arranged to make a visual argument before the leaders make a political one. The 18th summit, on 12 and 13 September 2026, is being sold under the theme Building for Resilience Innovation Cooperation and Sustainability. The language is broad because the contradictions are broad. A group that includes China and India, Russia and Brazil, Iran and the United Arab Emirates, and countries that depend on Washington even while criticising it needs a vocabulary capacious enough to contain disagreement. [1] The honest forecast is therefore double-edged. The New Delhi meeting can be high-octane as theatre, as a diplomatic marketplace and as a sequence of bilateral encounters. It is much less likely to be high-impact as a collective act. BRICS is not meaningless. It is a significant bargaining platform, a symbol of Global South agency and the home of a real development bank. But its aggregate weight has not become strategic cohesion. The group is large enough to matter and divided enough to disappoint. India's official chairship material counts eleven members, including Saudi Arabia, and says the group represents 49.5 per cent of the world's population, about 40 per cent of global GDP and 26 per cent of global trade. Reuters has noted that Saudi Arabia was invited but had not formally accepted the invitation. That discrepancy is not a footnote; it is an early lesson in BRICS' institutional looseness. Even the question of who is fully inside the room can carry different answers. [1][3] Born as an acronym became a grievance BRICS began as an investment forecast, not a treaty. In 2001, Goldman Sachs economist Jim O'Neill coined BRIC to describe Brazil, Russia, India and China as economies whose growth could reshape the global balance. Governments then turned the acronym into a summit process in 2009; South Africa joined in 2010-11, and Egypt, Ethiopia, Iran and the UAE entered in 2024, followed by Indonesia in 2025. Expansion has made the platform more representative of the non-Western world, even as it has made consensus harder. [1][3] The original grievance remains legitimate. The International Monetary Fund, World Bank and UN Security Council still carry institutional arrangements designed for a post-1945 distribution of power. Emerging economies want a greater voice, cheaper and more flexible development finance, less vulnerability to sanctions and a say in the rules governing trade, technology, energy and climate. BRICS gives that grievance a diplomatic address. Its importance lies partly in the fact that a country can enter the room without having to choose between Washington and Beijing. That is why dismissing BRICS as mere anti-Americanism is analytically lazy. Yet treating it as an embryonic world government is equally misleading. Its members want a less Western-dominated system, but they do not agree on the architecture that should replace it. Russia wants a shield against sanctions and a counterweight to the West. China sees a long-term opportunity to rebalance global power. India and Brazil prefer reform without an anti-Western crusade. The Gulf states want options, not rupture. The same word multipolarity hides several incompatible projects. One bank many declarations BRICS has built more than its harshest critics admit. The New Development Bank is its clearest institutional achievement. Established in 2015, it finances infrastructure and sustainable development projects in emerging markets. Its own current figures show 139 approved projects and about 42.9 billion dollars in approved financing, covering clean energy, water, transport, housing and digital infrastructure. [4] The Contingent Reserve Arrangement also offers a potential liquidity backstop, while working groups have sustained cooperation in health, agriculture, science, education, culture and counter-terrorism. But one functioning bank cannot carry the rhetorical weight of an alternative order. The NDB is still small beside the World Bank, the Asian Development Bank and the immense financing needs of its members. Its exposure to sanctions and compliance constraints, especially around Russia, shows that BRICS institutions still operate inside the financial system they seek to diversify. A bank can lend in local currencies; it cannot by itself manufacture trust, liquidity or a new reserve asset. The deeper weakness is institutional. BRICS has no constitutive treaty, permanent secretariat with independent authority, common market, free-trade agreement, parliament, court or enforcement mechanism. It rotates the chair, generates ministerial tracks and relies on consensus. Declarations are politically useful but not legally binding. The model is flexible enough to keep rivals together, but too loose to compel delivery. The result is a familiar cycle: a grand communique, a working group, a pilot project and then a quiet transfer of attention to the next chair. The question is not whether meetings have happened. More than 350 meetings and high-level engagements across 25 Indian cities during the 2026 chairship are evidence of activity. The question is whether activity changes behaviour. A group can be busy without becoming powerful. [1] The currency mirage The common BRICS currency is the bloc's most marketable fantasy and its least feasible project. A shared currency is not a coloured note or a digital token. It requires monetary coordination, exchange-rate discipline, capital-account rules, fiscal arrangements, a lender of last resort, a mechanism for settling trade imbalances and enough political trust to accept painful adjustment when economies diverge. The euro took decades of legal and economic integration, and even Europe has struggled with the consequences of one monetary policy applied to different economies. BRICS is nowhere near that starting line. Its members have sharply different inflation histories, capital controls, exchange-rate regimes, debt profiles, financial systems and political priorities. They are separated by oceans and chokepoints rather than woven into a contiguous market. China is economically dominant inside the grouping, while India's strategic fear is straightforward: a currency designed to escape dollar dependence could become a renminbi-centred system. New Delhi does not want to exchange one asymmetry for another. The dollar is also more than a political symbol. The IMF reported that the US dollar accounted for 56.77 per cent of disclosed global foreign-exchange reserves in the fourth quarter of 2025, while the renminbi accounted for 1.95 per cent. The Federal Reserve describes the dollar's advantage as resting on deep and liquid capital markets, global payment use, international banking and reserve-asset credibility. [8][9] A payment app cannot reproduce that ecosystem overnight. India's more realistic proposal is to link existing systems and, eventually, central-bank digital currencies. Reuters reported that New Delhi was pushing CBDC interoperability for faster cross-border payments while explicitly distinguishing that aim from replacing the dollar. The technical obstacles are formidable: data rules, capital controls, cybersecurity, sanctions screening, currency swaps and the problem of what happens when trade is chronically unbalanced. If India imports far more from China than it exports, settling in rupees and yuan changes the plumbing without eliminating the imbalance. [6] The answer to the common-currency question is therefore clear. No BRICS currency is likely to emerge from New Delhi, and none is close to becoming a credible euro-like alternative. What may advance is financial diversification: selected local-currency settlements, connected instant-payment systems, CBDC pilots and more NDB lending in national currencies. That is useful. It is not de-dollarisation achieved. The wars that expose the fiction of unity The summit's most immediate problem is not money but war. On Ukraine, Moscow wants BRICS to challenge sanctions and narrate the conflict as a struggle against NATO and Western coercion. China criticises unilateral sanctions and calls for a political settlement without fully endorsing Russia's conduct. India maintains defence and energy ties with Moscow, refuses Western sanctions, yet repeatedly calls for dialogue and respect for sovereignty. Brazil, South Africa and the newer members have their own calculations. The familiar formula of recalling national positions is diplomatic craftsmanship, but it is also a confession that the bloc has no common policy. West Asia is even more corrosive because the conflict runs through the membership. Iran wants the group to condemn the US-Israeli attacks. The UAE rejects Tehran's allegations and insists that Iranian attacks on Gulf territory and maritime routes also be named. In May, BRICS foreign ministers failed to issue a joint statement; India released a chair's statement and outcome document that acknowledged differing views. [5] The leaders' summit must now prove that the disagreement can be managed without pretending it does not exist. India's balancing act is unusually exposed. It needs Iranian connectivity and energy options, Gulf stability, safe sea lanes, a working relationship with Israel, access to US technology and a diplomatic relationship with Russia and China. It cannot afford a BRICS text that sounds like an Iranian communique, nor one that makes the bloc look indifferent to a member under attack. A carefully vague declaration may preserve the ritual. It will not constitute a common foreign policy. This is the central contradiction of BRICS diplomacy: the group can agree that the global system is unequal while disagreeing about who is violating it. It can denounce unilateral sanctions without agreeing on whether sanctions should be lifted. It can call for sovereignty while its members accuse one another of attacks. Consensus language can prevent a rupture, but ambiguity is not the same thing as strategic unity. The dragon and the elephant in the same tent The most consequential contradiction sits inside BRICS' founding core. India and China both want a more multipolar world and a larger voice for the Global South. They are also rivals with an unresolved Himalayan boundary, a deadly 2020 Galwan clash and competing ambitions across the Indian Ocean, South Asia, technology and manufacturing. A disengagement arrangement reached in 2024 and Xi Jinping's visit to India after seven years create a diplomatic opening, but not a strategic settlement. [10] The bilateral encounter may be the summit's most valuable event, but it should not be mislabelled as a BRICS breakthrough. If Modi and Xi stabilise patrolling, expand military communication or reduce trade friction, both governments gain. Yet a handshake cannot dissolve the border dispute, the trade deficit or the contest over regional influence. BRICS is useful here as a calendar that puts rivals in the same city. It is not a court that can bind them. China's economic weight creates a second anxiety. Any serious BRICS payment network, reserve arrangement or infrastructure fund would require substantial Chinese participation. That can make the institution more capable, but also more China-centred. India's rational response is to stay inside, build coalitions with Brazil, South Africa, Indonesia, Egypt and the Gulf members, and prevent any one power from turning BRICS into its instrument. That is a strategy of management, not transformation. Trump's tariffs cannot create the trust that members lack Donald Trump's tariff threats supply BRICS with a convenient external antagonist. Washington has warned of punitive tariffs if BRICS members create a currency or back an instrument designed to replace the dollar. The threat is coercive, but its effect is not the one its authors may want. It creates pressure for payment diversification while also pushing vulnerable members toward separate bargains with the United States. [3] The finance ministers and central bank governors meeting before the summit criticised unilateral tariff and non-tariff measures as distortive and inconsistent with WTO rules. They also called for practical progress on cross-border payment interoperability. [7] That is a common position, but it is a limited one. A statement against tariffs is easier than a collective retaliation plan. Economic exposure is uneven. India, Brazil, Indonesia and South Africa need Western markets, technology, investment and dollar liquidity. The UAE and Saudi Arabia have deep security and financial links with Washington, and their currencies and energy markets remain closely connected to the dollar. Russia and Iran have stronger incentives to build sanctions-resistant channels, but their preferred system is not automatically acceptable to members that fear secondary sanctions or financial instability. India's own trade diplomacy makes the contradiction visible. Reuters reported a February 2026 US-India framework that cut the US tariff on Indian goods to 18 per cent from 50 per cent in exchange for lower Indian barriers, altered energy ties and a commitment to reduce Russian-oil purchases. Whether every part of the arrangement survives unchanged is less important than the strategic signal: when real market access is at stake, New Delhi negotiates bilaterally. [11] Trump can make BRICS countries resent American pressure; he cannot make them share the same risk tolerance. Tariffs may accelerate an incremental move away from dollar-only settlement, especially in commodities, energy and sanctioned trade. They will not create a unified BRICS trade policy. The members are not a tariff union; they are a collection of economies with different export baskets, market dependencies and red lines. Their solidarity is real in principle and conditional in practice. The European Union analogy is a trap BRICS is often presented as a future EU of the Global South. The analogy collapses under inspection. The European project was built among geographically contiguous countries with dense trade, shared regulatory problems, legal institutions and a history of pooling sovereignty. Its common market created interdependence before the euro attempted monetary union. The European Commission, Parliament, Court and acquis gave political promises an enforcement pathway. BRICS spans four continents. Its supply chains are less naturally integrated; its transport corridors cross maritime chokepoints and politically contested spaces; its per-capita incomes and development stages are radically different. More important than geography, however, is the absence of convergent political trust. India and China are competitors, Iran and the UAE are security rivals, Egypt and Ethiopia have tensions around the Nile, Russia is at war and several members rely on Western security or financial systems. Distance does not make international cooperation impossible. It does make institutional integration more expensive. The decisive difference is that Europe gradually pooled sovereignty, while BRICS members defend sovereignty as the protection against one another and against the West. BRICS can build issue-specific cooperation. It cannot simply copy the EU's route from a common market to a supranational community. Modi and the summit that risks becoming larger than the bloc For Narendra Modi, New Delhi is not only a BRICS chairship; it is a stage. Hosting Xi Jinping, Vladimir Putin and Masoud Pezeshkian allows the Prime Minister to appear as the intermediary who can speak to Washington, Moscow, Tehran, the Gulf and the wider Global South. The image is politically valuable because India's domestic atmosphere has become less deferential. The 2026 Gen Z and Cockroach Janta Party protests over examination failures, unemployment and institutional accountability forced the resignation of the Education Minister and punctured the aura of political invulnerability. [12] There is nothing unusual about a leader using international diplomacy to reinforce domestic legitimacy. The danger is more specific: the host may confuse the visibility of the leader with the capacity of the institution. A motorcade, a family photograph and a carefully choreographed Delhi can project arrival. They cannot settle the India-China border, generate jobs, lower food prices or substitute for democratic accountability. This is where the word megalomania becomes analytically useful, if used carefully. It is not a diagnosis of a person. It describes the temptation to make the summit's grandeur a proxy for its outcomes - to make the host leader's image larger than the bloc's actual capacity. The summit may be more valuable to Modi's international branding than to BRICS' collective machinery. Xi's visit, Modi's meeting with Putin and the Iran track can produce useful bilateral results, but bilateral diplomacy is not the same as institutional delivery. The Delhi lockdown intensifies the symbolism. When commuters, vendors and workers absorb the costs of a summit built around the language of resilience and inclusiveness, the event must answer a simple question: resilience for whom? Global leadership that requires the ordinary city to disappear for the cameras can look less like public diplomacy and more like state-managed spectacle. A Tibetan protest near the security perimeter underscored the limits of total control. What would count as a real outcome A non-damp-squib summit does not need to create a currency or end a war. It needs to replace slogans with measurable, voluntary and reviewable delivery. The first test is payments: a named pilot corridor, published technical standards, a timetable for CBDC or instant-payment interoperability and a transparent method for managing currency swaps and trade imbalances. The second is finance: a larger and more nimble NDB pipeline, more local-currency lending, and public milestones for projects rather than only aggregate approvals. The third is economic resilience: customs cooperation, common standards, trade documentation, supply-chain mapping and support for small businesses. These are less glamorous than a dollar-dethroning announcement, but they are where transaction costs fall and jobs can be created. The fourth is climate and disaster cooperation: shared early-warning systems, satellite data, resilient infrastructure and rapid-response protocols. A theme of sustainability becomes credible only when a village, port or city can show that the warning arrived earlier and the bridge was built safer. The fifth is institutional honesty. BRICS should publish a clear membership list, define the partner-country category, explain whether every matter requires unanimity and report what each chair inherits from the previous one. If consensus remains the rule, members should stop describing every statement as collective policy. A platform becomes more credible when it admits the difference between a common position, a chair's summary and a national reservation. India's most intelligent strategy is neither to abandon BRICS nor to pretend it is an alternative world government. New Delhi should use the group for what it can do: widen the bargaining space of the Global South, build practical finance and payment links among willing members, keep China from monopolising the agenda and preserve bridges to Western markets. Strategic autonomy works only when it is operational, not when it is printed on a summit banner. The verdict high octane outside damp squib inside Will the New Delhi summit be high-octane? Yes - in security, symbolism, bilateral meetings, media choreography and the sheer presence of leaders who represent an enormous share of humanity. Will it transform BRICS into a coherent alternative pole? No. The common currency will not happen. The dollar will not be dethroned by declaration. The wars in Ukraine and West Asia will not acquire a shared BRICS solution. The India-China rivalry will not be dissolved by a photograph. Trump's tariff threats will not produce a common economic front because every member calculates vulnerability differently. Yet a damp squib is not the same as a complete failure. BRICS matters because it gives the Global South a room of its own, and because even imperfect institutions can change bargaining power over time. The NDB, local-currency lending, payment interoperability, climate finance, health cooperation and collective demands for IMF, World Bank and UN reform are not nothing. They are the beginnings of a more plural order - provided they are funded, measured and implemented. The historical significance of New Delhi will therefore be diagnostic rather than revolutionary. BRICS has become too important to dismiss and too divided to lead. It is a barometer of multipolarity, not yet its engine. Its promise is representation, bargaining power and experimentation. Its poor delivery is the absence of binding rules, common strategic interests and an enforcement culture. The final verdict is blunt. India can host a spectacular summit, and Modi can emerge from it looking like the indispensable statesman of a fractured world. But if the declaration contains only managed ambiguity, the spectacle will be bigger than the bloc. BRICS will leave Delhi with its relevance reaffirmed and its contradictions unresolved: a big promise, a modest delivery, and a warning that multipolarity without trust is merely a crowded photograph. Sources and Further Reading [1] Press Information Bureau Government of India BRICS Evolution Cooperation and India's Leadership (10 September 2026). https://www.pib.gov.in/PressNoteDetails.aspx?NoteId=159946&ModuleId=3&reg=3&lang=1 Official 2026 chairship, membership, scale and ministerial outcomes. [2] BRICS India 2026 About Us (accessed 12 September 2026). https://www.brics2026.gov.in/about-us/ Official Indian presidency site. [3] Reuters The evolution of BRICS and its challenges today (12 September 2026). https://www.reuters.com/business/finance/evolution-brics-its-challenges-today-2026-09-12/ History, membership uncertainty, NDB, payment initiatives and Trump tariff threats. [4] New Development Bank Home and About NDB (accessed 12 September 2026). https://www.ndb.int/ Official project and financing figures. [5] Reuters BRICS talks end without joint statement exposing divisions over war in Iran (15 May 2026). https://www.reuters.com/world/china/india-issues-chair-statement-after-brics-meeting-amid-differences-over-gulf-2026-05-15/ Iran UAE disagreement and the May ministerial outcome. [6] Reuters India to push BRICS digital currency link despite hurdles (10 September 2026). https://www.reuters.com/world/china/india-push-brics-digital-currency-link-despite-hurdles-says-2026-09-10/ CBDC interoperability and political and technical constraints. [7] Reuters BRICS finance chiefs urge reform of global development financial institutions (11 September 2026). https://www.reuters.com/business/finance/brics-finance-chiefs-urge-reform-global-development-financial-institutions-2026-09-11/ Tariffs, payment interoperability and institutional reform. [8] International Monetary Fund Currency Composition of Official Foreign Exchange Reserves (26 March 2026). https://data.imf.org/en/news/imf%20data%20brief%20march%2027 Reserve shares for the US dollar and renminbi in 2025 Q4. [9] Federal Reserve The International Role of the US Dollar 2025 Edition (18 July 2025). https://www.federalreserve.gov/econres/notes/feds-notes/the-international-role-of-the-us-dollar-2025-edition-20250718.html Structural foundations of dollar international use. [10] Reuters India China relations from conflict to cautious thaw (12 September 2026). https://www.reuters.com/world/china/india-china-relations-conflict-cautious-thaw-2026-09-12/ Galwan, disengagement, trade and Xi's 2026 visit. [11] Reuters Trump says agreed trade deal with India (2 February 2026). https://www.reuters.com/world/india/trump-says-agreed-trade-deal-with-india-2026-02-02/ Reported tariff reduction and associated bilateral concessions. [12] Reuters India's Instagram Gen Z dents Modi's aura ahead of key state polls (25 July 2026). https://www.reuters.com/world/india/indias-instagram-gen-z-dents-modis-aura-ahead-key-state-polls-2026-07-25/ Domestic youth protests and political image context. ...Read more

12 Sep 2026

VEIU 2026 brings educators, climate advocates, institutional leaders and change-makers from across the world to Nairobi, linking quality education, climate action, transformational leadership and sustainable development. The five-day summit aims to turn global dialogue into lasting partnerships, practical action and meaningful community impact. SummaryVEIU 2026 will bring global educators, researchers, leaders, businesses, NGOs and change-makers together in Nairobi from 27 November to 1 December 2026. Centred on climate action, quality education, transformational leadership and sustainable development, the summit seeks to move beyond conferences and declarations towards practical collaboration. Its programme includes international forums, graduation and recognition ceremonies, partnership and MoU signings, climate discussions, community outreach and cultural engagement. The article highlights the need for education to serve the public good and for leadership to connect global challenges with local realities. It also stresses that partnerships must produce measurable outcomes rather than remain ceremonial agreements. Ultimately, VEIU 2026 presents Nairobi as a platform where diverse perspectives can come together to build more responsible, inclusive and sustainable futures. KeywordsVEIU 2026, VEIU International Summit, Nairobi summit, global partnerships, climate action, quality education, transformational leadership, sustainable development, Vision for Excellence International University, Nairobi Kenya From 27 November to 1 December 2026, Nairobi will become the meeting ground for educators, climate advocates, institutional leaders, researchers and change-makers committed to turning global conversation into meaningful action. Nairobi Is Ready for a Different Kind of Summit Nairobi does not merely host conversations about the future. It makes the future visible. It is a city where technology and tradition meet, where universities, enterprises, civil society, culture and community life exist alongside the raw challenges of inequality, climate vulnerability and rapid urban transformation. It is both an African capital and a global crossroads—a fitting setting for a summit that seeks to connect excellence with responsibility. Against this vibrant backdrop, Vision for Excellence International University—VEIU—under the able leadership of its very young and dynamic Africa Chancellor, Dr James Bamwesa, will convene the VEIU 2026 International Summit from 27 November to 1 December 2026. Spread across five days and four nights, the gathering will bring together university leaders, graduates, academics, researchers, government representatives, development partners, business executives, entrepreneurs, NGOs, faith leaders, students and professionals from Africa and around the world. Its central theme is ambitious and urgent: Building Global Partnerships for Climate Action, Quality Education, Transformational Leadership and Sustainable Development. This is not a decorative slogan. It is a statement about how the world must now learn to work. Speakers:Prof James Bamwesa / D.R CongoMahesh Kumar / IndiaDr.Malini EaganathanCorina Sujdea / RomaniaDr Rajanikant Bhatt / IndiaDr Susan Anjalo / KenyaLia Rusu / RomaniaDr Manuela Dan / DenmarkErmina Raescu / RomaniaDr Watongoka Hubert / D.R CongoDr Ezzat Hassan / EgyptProf Ujjwal K. Chowdhury / IndiaProf. Ryo Takahashi  / JapanDr Jimmy Ambajo / KenyaDr. Anabel A. Njiiri / KenyaTithi Bhalla / UK A Summit with a Question, Not Just a Schedule The world has no shortage of conferences. It has no shortage of declarations, photographs, ceremonial handshakes and carefully worded resolutions. What it needs is a stronger connection between knowledge and action. The VEIU 2026 International Summit is designed around that larger question: What happens when experts, scholars, leaders, innovators and change-makers come together with the intention not merely to speak, but to build? The answer cannot be measured only by the number of delegates in a hall. It must be measured by the partnerships that continue after the event, the ideas that become programmes, the students who find new opportunities, the communities that receive practical support and the institutions that become more accountable to the future. The summit programme reflects this wider ambition. It will include international conferences, leadership forums, a climate action and sustainable development forum, a graduation ceremony for VEIU students, honorary doctorate awards, international excellence awards, strategic partnership and Memorandum of Understanding signing ceremonies, a meeting of the Board Members of Together for Africa, and community outreach and cultural experiences in Kenya. Together, these elements create something more meaningful than a conventional academic gathering. They create a leadership laboratory. Education Must Become a Force for Public Good Quality education is one of the summit’s four central pillars because education remains the most powerful long-term instrument of social transformation. But education cannot be reduced to buildings, examinations, certificates or institutional rankings. Its deeper purpose is to develop people capable of thinking independently, working collaboratively, acting ethically and responding creatively to complex problems. The summit’s international graduation ceremony will therefore carry a meaning beyond celebration. Every graduation is also a public promise. A graduate leaves not only with knowledge, but with a greater responsibility to society. The real value of a degree is demonstrated when learning improves decisions, strengthens communities and expands human possibility. The international character of the Nairobi gathering reinforces this idea. When people from different educational systems, cultures and professional backgrounds meet, learning moves in multiple directions. A Kenyan perspective can challenge an Indian assumption. A European experience can illuminate an African priority. A Japanese approach to discipline and innovation can enrich a global conversation. A Malaysian, Egyptian or Congolese insight can reveal the limits of one-size-fits-all solutions. That is leadership learning at its best: not the transfer of information from one expert to an audience, but the creation of new understanding between people. Climate Action Is the True Test of Leadership Climate action cannot remain a specialist conversation confined to environmental forums. It is now inseparable from education, public health, food security, migration, livelihoods, urban planning, finance, technology and social justice. A community facing water stress experiences climate change differently from a corporation calculating its emissions. A student worried about employment sees sustainability through a different lens from a policymaker designing a national transition. The climate action and sustainable development forum at VEIU 2026 has the potential to bring these perspectives into the same room. The essential leadership question is not simply whether the world understands climate change. It is whether institutions are prepared to change their priorities because of what they understand. Transformational leaders must be able to connect global goals with local realities. They must ask how sustainability can create dignified work, how innovation can reach underserved communities, how education can prepare young people for green economies and how partnerships can move resources towards those who need them most. Climate action requires more than individual virtue. It requires institutional courage, financial commitment and cross-border collaboration. No university, government, NGO or business can solve the challenge alone. The summit’s emphasis on global partnerships is therefore not an accessory to climate action. It is its operating principle. Leadership Begins Where Certainty Ends Transformational leadership is often confused with charisma. Yet the most valuable leaders are not necessarily the loudest people in the room. They are the people who can listen deeply, absorb complexity, recognise their own limitations and still act with courage. The Nairobi summit will place leadership alongside education and climate action because the three are inseparable. Education without leadership can remain theoretical. Leadership without ethical grounding can become domination. Climate action without imagination can become a technical exercise without social legitimacy. The leaders of the next decade will need to work across disciplines and identities. They will need to understand data and human emotion, innovation and inequality, economic growth and ecological limits. They will need to build trust in environments where trust is increasingly fragile. Most importantly, they will need to understand that leadership is not the possession of power. It is the responsible use of influence. A Room Large Enough for the World The summit’s most powerful asset may be the diversity of voices assembled in Nairobi. At its centre will be Prof James Bamwesa, Chancellor of Vision for Excellence International University and a leading figure in the summit’s vision. The programme also brings together contributors from Africa, Asia and Europe, reflecting the belief that the world’s most urgent challenges require more than one geography or one intellectual tradition. The international speaker group includes Dr Malini Eaganathan from Malaysia; Mr Mahesh Kumar, Prof Ujjwal Anu Chowdhury and Dr Rajanikant Bhatt from India; and Ms Corina Sujdea, President of RELTTAW, together with Ms Lia Rusu and Ms Ermina Raescu from Romania. Kenya will be represented by Dr Susan Anjalo, Dr Anabel A Njiiri and Dr Jimmy Ambajo. The wider African presence includes Dr Ezzat Hassan from Egypt, Dr Watongoka Hubert from the Democratic Republic of Congo and Mr Jean Hubert from Cameroon. Dr Manuela Dan brings the perspective of Denmark, Prof Ryo Takahashi represents Japan, and Ms Tithi Bhalla contributes the perspective of the United Kingdom. This is more than a list of speakers. It is a map of possibility. The significance lies not in placing famous names on a stage, but in allowing different experiences to challenge one another. The summit can become a space where participants discover that international collaboration does not mean erasing difference. It means using difference intelligently. Partnerships That Survive the Handshake The main organiser is Vision for Excellence International University, Africa, with RELTTAW serving as principal partner. The summit is supported by an extensive network of partner organisations: USK-BUKAVU, the World Book of Records London, SustainVerse.org, the International University Institute of Innovation, Global Goals Connections, EDX Global, AAHAE, the International Association of Theological Institutions, FIDES Denmark and RELTTAW. Their participation sends an important message. Global partnerships must be more than logos arranged beneath an event title. They must create pathways for shared research, student mobility, institutional development, innovation, community engagement, entrepreneurship and sustainable action. A Memorandum of Understanding is easy to sign. The harder task is to turn it into a living relationship—with responsibilities, timelines, measurable outcomes and people committed to implementation. The Nairobi gathering will be judged by whether its partnerships continue to produce value long after the final ceremony. The strongest collaborations will be those that connect institutions not only to one another, but also to communities that are usually excluded from international conversations. Recognition Must Become Responsibility Honorary doctorate awards and international excellence awards—including recognition for women in leadership—will form an important part of the summit. In a world filled with badges, titles and public profiles, recognition must be handled with seriousness. An honorary doctorate should not be understood merely as a ceremonial distinction. It should represent a record of contribution and a renewed obligation to serve. Similarly, excellence awards should not only celebrate achievement. They should make achievement visible as a source of inspiration for others. Recognition becomes meaningful when it encourages young people, honours public-minded work and strengthens the social value of leadership. The summit’s recognition ceremonies can therefore become moments of reflection: What kind of excellence does the world need now? Is success measured only by personal advancement, or also by the number of lives improved, institutions strengthened and futures protected? “Together for Africa” Must Be a Working Promise The presence of the Together for Africa initiative gives the summit a distinctive moral and developmental centre. The scheduled meeting of its Board Members in Nairobi suggests a focus beyond conference proceedings. It points towards an effort to build sustained cooperation around African priorities, African talent and African possibilities. The community outreach programme and Kenya cultural and tourism experience are equally significant. A summit about Africa should not speak about Africa only from inside a conference hall. It must encounter the people, places, histories and aspirations that give the continent its meaning. Culture is not an optional addition to development. It shapes identity, dignity, social cohesion and economic opportunity. Community engagement, likewise, reminds leaders that every grand policy ultimately reaches a real person, family, school, workplace or neighbourhood. “Together for Africa” is therefore best understood as a working verb. It asks participants to move from speaking for communities to listening to them, working with them and investing in their future. Five Days, One Leadership Laboratory Across five days, VEIU 2026 will offer participants multiple entry points into leadership learning. The graduation ceremony will underline the public purpose of education. The international leadership conference will explore how influence can be exercised ethically and effectively. The climate and sustainable development forum will connect environmental responsibility with institutional action. The partnership and MoU ceremonies will test whether cooperation can become more than symbolism. The excellence awards will ask what achievement should look like in an unequal and uncertain world. The community and cultural programmes will bring the conversation back to people and place. A participant may arrive in Nairobi seeking a certificate, a connection, a platform or a new professional opportunity. The deeper value of the summit will be found in what that participant carries home: a more expansive understanding of leadership, a sharper awareness of global interdependence and perhaps one partnership capable of changing a community. That is the difference between attending an event and becoming part of a movement. Where Excellence Meets the World The VEIU 2026 International Summit comes at a moment when the world is searching for bridges—between generations, nations, disciplines, institutions and communities. Nairobi offers the setting. VEIU offers the platform. The speakers offer diverse experience. The partner organisations offer networks. But the final outcome will depend on the willingness of participants to learn, listen and act. The summit’s promise can be expressed simply: together for education, together for climate action, together for leadership and together for global partnerships. From Africa to Europe, Asia and beyond, one shared vision will come into focus—that excellence is not complete until it serves humanity. www.SustainVerse.org is proud to be the media partner of this historic leadership summit at Nairobi VEIU 2026 International SummitNairobi, Kenya | 27 November–1 December 2026Theme: Building Global Partnerships for Climate Action, Quality Education, Transformational Leadership and Sustainable DevelopmentContact: info@veiuniversity.org | +40 769 266 040 | +254 759 913 318 ...Read more

11 Sep 2026

Ahmedabad, once seen as a pioneer in urban climate adaptation, has been ranked the least climate-resilient major city in the world in a new AlphaGeo study. The finding exposes a widening gap between the city’s climate-risk exposure and the effectiveness of its adaptation measures.  SummaryA new AlphaGeo study has placed Ahmedabad at the top of a global ranking of cities facing the highest residual climate risk, raising questions about whether existing adaptation measures are keeping pace with worsening hazards. The study assessed 72 major cities using its Climate Risk & Resilience Index, which considers both physical exposure to hazards and the level of protection provided by adaptation measures. Ahmedabad recorded a resilience-adjusted risk score of 41, largely driven by extreme heat, while several other South Asian cities also featured among the higher-risk locations. The ranking is particularly significant because Ahmedabad has long been presented as a climate-adaptation pioneer. Following the deadly 2010 heatwave, the city introduced South Asia’s first Heat Action Plan, with measures including heat alerts, public-health advisories, cooling interventions and reflective roofs. However, the AlphaGeo assessment suggests that such interventions have not been sufficient to close the city’s wider adaptation gap as climate threats intensify.  The study also highlights a broader South Asian problem, where cities face substantial exposure to heat, flooding and other hazards while adaptation investment remains comparatively limited. Hyderabad, Multan, Dhaka, Kolkata and Lahore were among the other cities with high resilience-adjusted risk scores. In contrast, Chicago recorded the lowest score among the cities studied, while Beijing, Tianjin and Shenzhen were highlighted for relatively strong adaptation efficiency.  For Ahmedabad, the challenge extends beyond heat. Rapid concrete development, limited tree cover in several neighbourhoods, heat-retaining surfaces, shrinking natural drainage channels and waterlogging during intense rainfall can increase residents’ exposure to climate extremes. The risks are also unevenly distributed, with poorer communities often having less access to shade, cooling and reliable infrastructure.  The study therefore raises a larger question about what climate resilience should actually mean for a city. A heat action plan or adaptation policy can provide an important framework, but resilience ultimately depends on whether those measures translate into safer neighbourhoods, functioning infrastructure and protection for people most exposed to climate hazards. For Ahmedabad, the ranking is a warning that climate leadership cannot be measured only by the existence of policies; it must also be judged by how effectively those policies reduce risk on the ground.  Original Writer & Courtesy Original writer: Rajiv Shah  Original article: “Ahmedabad world’s least climate resilient major city: AlphaGeo study”Courtesy: Counterview.net Counterview.net ...Read more

10 Sep 2026

  SummaryThe present is tumultuous with all kinds of disasters looming in and guess what, we are to blame mostly. In the actively changing and evolving Himalayas, claws of so called development seep in causing the Himalayas to bleed and the rivers changing their courses, changing their planform, often flooding and leaving millions homeless. Be it the charlands of West Bengal or the upstream stretches of Ganges in the Himalayas, anthropogenic activities in the form of river engineering, development of smart cities, river linking projects and what not, we are interrupting with the fluvial dynamics only to get doomed.  KeywordsAvulsion, fluvial dynamics, Anthropocene, equilibrium  Avulsion and shifts in river courses are characterized by scouring of riverbed and banks. These phenomena are common in case of Himalayan rivers and have been on the increase in the Anthropocene. Humans can completely alter a river system turning it into a controlled one by damming its course, by flow diversion, by dredging or clearing the channel, by straightening the channel pattern or by increasing its supply via an artificial channel. In order to control flooding and river bank erosion, channels are frequently modified. Modifications of channels often include channel widening, channel deepening, artificially cutting meanders and even channel straightening. This jeopardizes the hydrologic regime. Also, if channelization occurs, higher flows are often found downstream as the water rushes out of the channelized reach. High backwaters are resulted, resulting channel deposition lowering the channel capacity.   A direct change in the river system is caused when dams are constructed. The hydrologic regime is altered by flow regulation, decreasing peak flows and increasing low flow. As a result, sediment transport capacity is modified inducing erosion and deposition affecting channel morphology. Dams also cause deposition in and above the reservoirs which thereby lose their capacity to retain water. Spillway water from dams is devoid of sediment load and thus tends to erode the channel immediately downstream.  The case of Aswan dam can be cited as an example where scour erosion is noted in the lower reaches, with a lean sediment transport and downstream erosion as the flow is regulated. Increase in depth and decrease in width is also reported for other channels which have experienced dam construction.  Morphologic discourse of the Ganga valley leads to its classification into 7 segments (Singh and Singh, 1992). Variation in discharge, sediment load, ground slope, anthropogenic activities and tectonics result in variation in channel morphology (Valdiya, 2003). Geology, geomorphology, climate alongwith human influence modifies fluvial dynamics. The outer Himalayan belt consists of recently uplifted Siwalik of Miocene Pliestocene detritus filled sediments – coarse sandstones, clays and conglomerates. Except the Siwaliks, the concerned region is a portion of the Ganga megafan and this surface shows several north-south aligned drainage channels (Shukla et al., 2001). This region is deeply incised by the active Ganga River and other rivers. Active incision of channel over the megafan surface is evidenced by the prominent channel scarps.  Over the years, channel sedimentation with the formation of channel bars in Ganga and other rivers is observed. Decline in the number of bars accompanied with increase in size of the bars indicates rapid silt deposition. Sandbars are observed to change occasionally during floods. The shifting nature of Ganga channel is evidenced by the presence of an abandoned channel within the cross section situated below the Chandi bridge, located on the left bank of river Ganga at Nildhara area.  The Bhimgoda barrage is located on river Ganga at Har ki Pauri. It was built as the headworks of upper Ganges canal. The initial barrage was completed by 1854. Replaced twice, the barrage was completed in 1983. The primary purpose of the barrage was irrigation; it was also used to generate hydroelectricity and used for flood control. The barrage has a length of 454 m and a spillway capacity of 19,300 m3/s.  The local geomorphology of the Ganga River is significantly altered due to the construction of the Bhimgoda barrage as it results in huge diversion of water into the upper Ganga canal. This leads to excessive in channel sedimentation in both upstream and downstream courses interrupting the natural channel equilibrium. As a result, the flow velocity is reduced in the lean periods with the reduction in monsoonal rainfall. The braided floodplain dynamics also gets altered as a result.  The Bhimgoda barrage diverts the the river water into the upper Ganga canal for hydroelectric power generation. Studies indicate that water velocity of river Ganga is about 1-1.9 m/s in the Haridwar region after the Bhimgoda barrage (Kumar et al., 2023).  There have been drastic changes in water discharge, sediment concentration and calculated sediment load before and after the construction of the Bhimgoda barrage. The water discharge was uninterrupted with high velocities (reaching up to 1.5-2 m/s), with massive flushes during monsoon. Post construction, this discharge has become fractioned upto 300-400 cumecs are permanently diverted out of the river into the canal system. Sediment concentration was highly variable before the construction (varying from <50 mg/l in winter to >2000 mg/l in monsoons). Post construction sediment concentration has become high upstream of the gates, heavily diluted getting finer downstream due to sediment trapping. The calculated sediment load used to pass uniformly downstream scaling up to 8 million tonnes/day across the upper Ganga. Post construction this has been disrupted, massive trapping upstream now leads to a drastically lower calculated sediment load footprint in the downstream riverine stretch.  Braiding index according to Brice has been calculated for this stretch for the years 1916,1972,2005 and 2026. The braiding index in 1916 was 7.347, for 1972 it was 6.76, in 2005 it was 5.4779 and in 2026 it increased to 6.26.                                                                           Fig 1: Location of Bhimgoda barrage and change in braiding immediately upstream and downstream of the barrage (1916,1972,2005,2025)        Source: SurveyofIndia toposheets 53K/1 and Google Earth Imagery)  Photo 1: Braiding and bar formation in the vicinity of Bhimgoda barrage (Dutta, 2001)  Fig 1: Changes in braiding at Haridwar, with location of Bhimgoda barrage (1916,1972,2005,2025 – Source: Survey of India toposheets 53K/1 and Google Earth Imagery)  Increase in braiding index indicates that a river is shifting from a single channel into a more complicated network of multiple branching channels which rejoin each other and are separated by islands or sandbars. Often this indicates higher sediment loads, unstable banks and changing water flows. There is also more fluctuation of discharge. Factors like flatter slope leads to a velocity drop, initiating sediment deposition and weak riverbanks which can collapse easily widening the active channel belt. Increase in stream power can also cause increasing braids. Anthropic interference in the form of river engineering works thus often lead to modifications in fluvial dynamics interrupting the morphologic equilibrium of rivers.  References:  Dutta R.K. (2017): Controlling Factors of Channel Shifting and Avulsion in Haridwar District, Uttarakhand Geographical Review of India 79(2) June 2017, 153-167 Kumar D, Kumar A, Malik D.S., Sharma R and Gupta V (2023): Effect of Barrages and Anthropogenic Activities on Ecological Integrity of the Ganga River: A Review on  Current Issues and Restoration Efforts AgroEnvironmental Sustainability, 2023, 1(1), 67-75 https://doi.org/10.00000/s2023010109  Shukla, U. K., Singh, I. B., Sharma, M., & Sharma, S. (2001). A model of alluvial megafan sedimentation: Ganga Megafan. Sedimentary Geology, 14, 243–262. Singh, M., & Singh, I. B. (1992). The Ganga River Valley: Alluvial valley in an active foreland basin. In 29th International Geological Conference, Kyoto, 2 (p. 30). Japan. Valdiya K.S. (2003): Reactivation of Himalayan Frontal Fault, Current Science, 85(7), 2001 1031-1040. ABOUT AUTHOR  Dr Karabi Das, Masters in Geography from University of Calcutta, former Senior Research Fellow, UGC, PhD on Physical and Socioeconomic changes in the Indian Sundarban is presently working as Assistant Professor of Geography, Dr Kanailal Bhattacharyya College, Howrah.She has participated in many national and international seminars and has 12 papers and 10 book chapters to her credit.Her areas of interest include Fluvial Geomorphology, river in equilibrium and human environment relationship. ...Read more