New tribunal reforms bill promises structural change

It is an attempt to move the debate from repeated institutional litigation to institutional construction

The Tribunals Reforms Bill, 2026, recently passed by the Lok Sabha, should be judged not by the shortcomings of earlier experiments but by whether it has learnt from them. On vacancies, independence and accountability, it makes a serious attempt to do precisely that.

The first threat to tribunal justice is often not a dramatic assault on independence. It is an empty chair. (Photo: Unsplash)

The Bill, passed by the Lok Sabha, is best understood against the unsettled history of tribunal reform. Its Statement of Objects and Reasons traces that history from the rationalisation exercise that began in 2015, through the Finance Act, 2017, the 2021 Ordinance and finally the Tribunals Reforms Act, 2021. But the significance of the 2026 Bill lies in what happened thereafter.

In Madras Bar Association v. Union of India (2025), the Supreme Court (SC) held that important parts of the 2021 framework did not sufficiently respect the separation of powers and judicial independence. The Court was particularly troubled by provisions which substantially revived arrangements it had already disapproved, including a four-year tenure, a minimum age requirement of 50 years, a system requiring two names to be sent for every vacancy, and an appointment timeline under which the government was required to act only “preferably” within three months. It also reiterated a more fundamental concern: Tribunals could not indefinitely remain administratively dependent upon the very executive departments whose decisions they were often required to review.

The four-year tenure becomes five years. Instead of requiring the search-cum-selection committee to send a panel of two competing names for each vacancy, the new Bill requires it to recommend one suitable person, with one additional name kept on a waiting list. Instead of allowing the government to merely “preferably” decide within three months, the Bill requires it to process the recommendation and make the appointment within three months. The statutory 50-year minimum age that figured prominently in the earlier challenge is not re-enacted in the Bill. Above all, the institutional vacuum identified by the apex court is answered through the creation of the NTC.

Does the new Bill reproduce the flaws that brought its predecessor down, or does it attempt to cure them?

On the principal concerns identified by the Court, the answer is difficult to ignore: This is not the 2021 framework in new packaging. At its centre, is something the Court itself repeatedly sought: a statutory NTC. The NTC is responsible for the selection processes, tribunal performance, complaints, and a National Tribunals Data Grid. Its chairperson must be a former Supreme Court judge or a former High Court chief justice. Its membership combines judicial and technical experience. The Bill therefore moves tribunal administration away from a fragmented model towards a permanent institution.

This is particularly significant because the first threat to tribunal justice is often not a dramatic assault on independence. It is an empty chair. A tribunal created for specialised and speedy justice is of little use if its benches cannot sit. The apex court has described prolonged vacancies as capable of making tribunals ineffective. The 2026 Bill responds by institutionalising the selection process. That change is constitutional in consequence.

The Bill also substantially answers the concern over tenure. Chairpersons and members are to ordinarily hold office for five years, subject to age limits of 70 and 67, respectively. Those limits closely track the tenure architecture earlier directed by the apex court, which had warned that truncated terms discourage capable candidates and weaken institutional independence.

The NTC has a second role: reviewing tribunal performance, participating in the complaints mechanism and building a national data architecture for tribunals. Its accounts are subject to Comptroller and Auditor-General (CAG) audit and its annual report is to be placed before Parliament.

Independence should protect adjudication from interference, not institutions from scrutiny. A tribunal system must be independent enough to decide without fear, but transparent enough for the country to know whether it is actually deciding at all.

The government will inevitably remain involved in appointments, expenditure, administration and rule-making. Independence does not require institutional isolation. It requires that participation does not become domination. The real inquiry must, therefore, concern safeguards, structure, and balance. The judicial character of the commission, the search-cum-selection mechanism, defined tenure, statutory timelines, parliamentary reporting and financial audit must be considered together, rather than in isolation.

Judicial review performs its highest function when it identifies a constitutional defect. But constitutional dialogue succeeds only when the legislature is permitted to cure that defect. The SC’s directions cannot sensibly mean that every future tribunal law must inherit the constitutional suspicion earned by its predecessor. Indeed, the Court’s own 2025 judgment demanded a NTC as a structural response to decades of piecemeal reform.

Parliament has now attempted that response. The Bill may be tested, scrutinised and improved. That is what legislation in a constitutional democracy should undergo. But there is a difference between scrutiny and reflex. The Lok Sabha’s passage of the Bill on August 10 should therefore be seen for what it is: An attempt to move the debate from repeated institutional litigation to institutional construction. The proper question is how much farther the Bill has travelled from the last attempt’s shortcomings.

(Jayant K Sud is a senior advocate, Supreme Court, and a former additional solicitor general of India. The views expressed are personal. X: @jayant_sud)