NavIC’s hurdles project govt’s reluctance to fund innovation

NavIC, India's navigation satellite system, faces challenges due to failures and funding issues, highlighting the need for better investment in science and technology.

MUMBAI: A silent struggle is unfolding in the skies above us. Satellites, built with dreams of national autonomy and technological prowess, orbit the Earth as part of a grand project named NavIC, India’s navigation satellite system. On paper, it was meant to be India’s answer to America’s GPS—a regional powerhouse capable of guiding ships, planes, and troops, without relying on foreign systems.

NavIC’s hurdles project govt’s reluctance to fund innovation

This was described effusively in this column back in October 2023. But the narrative has changed since then.

NavIC finds itself limping, battered by failures of atomic clocks, propulsion glitches, and a tangled web of challenges back on Earth. The question is: why did something with so much promise run into so many hurdles? And perhaps more importantly, does it stand a chance of revival?

The answer to NavIC’s current predicament doesn’t just lie in the failure of machinery or missed engineering deadlines. It lies in something more fundamental, deeply rooted in how India has approached science and technology over the years. A science journalist with over a quarter-century following ISRO has much to say on why things are the way they are: “No one in policy-making circles really understands how investing in science and technology helps in development.” That statement strikes at the heart of why NavIC, despite its potential, is fighting an uphill battle.

Consider this: policymakers often ask, “How does science contribute to GDP?” It’s a fair question. But it’s also the wrong one—or at least, it’s asked with the wrong expectations. Science doesn’t produce direct, instant returns like a business investment. Its contributions to GDP are often indirect, unpredictable, and visible only with hindsight. Take a moment to think about your phone, which probably uses GPS right now. That technology didn’t come from a business plan but from years of military research in the United States, much of it funded without knowing exactly what practical benefits would emerge. The same is true of the internet, of medical breakthroughs, and of countless innovations that shape our lives today. The pattern is always the same: countries that invest in science, without demanding immediate returns, eventually find themselves richer, stronger, and more self-sufficient.

This is why China took a leap of faith. They didn’t know what specific scientific research would lead to success. But they understood if you produce more scientific knowledge, you’ll increase your chances of breakthroughs. It was a gamble rooted in faith, not in certainty, and it paid off spectacularly. Today, China’s scientific output rivals that of the most developed nations. They’re building space stations, dominating global tech markets, and producing cutting-edge innovations in renewable energy and AI. The secret to their success wasn’t just discipline or hard work—it was the willingness to invest in science without tying it down to immediate, tangible results.

India, on the other hand, chose a more cautious path. For decades, we’ve been telling ourselves that we’ll invest in science “when we’re economically better off.” It’s both prudent and a paradox. How do you become economically better off without investing in the very thing that drives development in the first place? It’s like waiting to plant a tree until you’re sure it will bear fruit tomorrow. That hesitation shows in the numbers: India spends just 0.6% of its GDP on scientific research. For comparison, China spends over 2.5%, and the United States spends 3%. Worse still, when you dig into the details, much of India’s scientific budget is buried within defense spending, which means it doesn’t always trickle down to civilian applications or long-term innovation.

This is where ISRO enters the picture. ISRO is often described as one of India’s finest institutions, and for good reason. With a budget that’s a fraction of NASA’s, it’s pulled off stunning achievements, from launching hundreds of satellites to sending a mission to Mars. But even ISRO can only do so much when the larger system it operates within is starved of resources. Think of ISRO as a chef trying to cook a gourmet meal with limited ingredients—no matter how talented the chef, there are limits to what can be done.

The story of NavIC is a reflection of these systemic limitations. The project suffered major setbacks when several atomic clocks on its satellites failed, and attempts to replace or repair them have been slow. A recent second-generation satellite, meant to bolster the system, ran into propulsion problems and now sits in a suboptimal orbit. Each failure isn’t just a technical glitch; it’s a symptom of deeper structural challenges. When you’re constantly short of funds, every setback feels heavier.

Yet, despite everything, NavIC hasn’t failed entirely. The system still provides basic navigation services, and ISRO is working to deploy new satellites with better technology. But the larger question is this: will India learn from NavIC’s struggles and rethink how it funds and prioritizes science? Will we finally recognize that investing in scientific research isn’t a luxury but a necessity?