Editorial

The Tamil Nadu Assembly’s unanimous resolution urging the Centre to scrap the National Eligibility-cum-Entrance Test (NEET) for undergraduate medical admissions and replace it with Class 12 board marks is neither sudden nor surprising. It is the latest expression of a long-standing argument that a single, high-stakes national exam has deepened inequities rather than eliminated them.

Proponents of NEET correctly point to its original rationale. A common entrance test was meant to create a level playing field, curb the opacity and patronage that once marked many state-level medical admissions, and ensure a minimum national standard. In theory, it rewards preparation and knowledge over geography or political influence. Yet theory has collided with lived reality in states like Tamil Nadu. The Assembly’s resolution highlights three persistent problems. First, repeated irregularities—paper leaks, alleged irregularities in examination conduct—have eroded public confidence. Second, the coaching industry has exploded into a parallel education economy. Students from rural and Tamil-medium backgrounds, who perform well in the state board system, often find themselves at a disadvantage against peers who can afford intensive, expensive coaching centred on the NEET pattern. Third, the psychological toll is undeniable. The pressure of a single examination that can determine a medical career has been linked to student distress and, in tragic cases, suicides.

Tamil Nadu’s preference for Class 12 marks is rooted in its own experience. The state has historically produced large numbers of doctors through a system that valued consistent academic performance over a one-day test. Critics of this approach counter that board examinations vary in rigour across states and that abandoning NEET risks reintroducing subjectivity and regional disparities. Both concerns have merit. A pure return to state-board merit without safeguards could undermine national standards. Yet continuing with an unreformed NEET that privileges coaching access over genuine aptitude is equally problematic.

The deeper issue is one of federalism and educational design. Medical education serves both national and state needs. States that invest heavily in public health infrastructure and produce doctors who serve in underserved areas have a legitimate interest in the composition of their medical student body. A rigid, one-size-fits-all examination that ignores linguistic, socio-economic, and pedagogical differences treats diversity as a defect rather than a feature of India’s education landscape.

The resolution will not by itself abolish NEET. The Supreme Court has upheld the exam’s constitutional validity, and the Centre has shown little appetite for reversal. What it should force, however, is a serious conversation about reform: multiple examination attempts, reduced weightage for coaching-style questions, better support for rural and vernacular students, and perhaps a hybrid model that combines board performance with a more accessible national filter.

Uniformity without equity is not merit. Tamil Nadu’s unanimous voice is a reminder that the purpose of medical admissions is not merely to rank students efficiently, but to produce competent, diverse, and socially rooted doctors. The Centre would do well to listen.

The decision by a US federal judge to dismiss the criminal fraud and bribery case against Gautam Adani marks a significant legal development, yet it is far from a clean bill of health. The charges—alleging that Adani and associates paid bribes to Indian officials to secure solar-energy contracts and misled American investors about the company’s anti-corruption practices—have been dropped. Judge Nicholas Garaufis, while accepting the government’s motion, explicitly noted irregularities in the process and cautioned that the dismissal should not be read as a finding that the original accusations lacked substance.

This outcome arrives after months of political and market turbulence in India. The indictment had become a proxy battleground: critics saw it as evidence of systemic corruption at the highest levels of Indian business and government; supporters framed it as an overreach by foreign regulators targeting a prominent Indian industrialist. The abrupt end to the case will be welcomed by Adani’s investors and by those who viewed the prosecution as politically motivated or procedurally flawed. Markets that once reacted sharply to the charges will likely interpret the dismissal as a clearing of major legal overhang. Yet the judge’s own words prevent any triumphant narrative. By highlighting irregularities and refusing to endorse the underlying merits of the case, the court has left an awkward residue. Dismissal on procedural or prosecutorial grounds is not the same as acquittal after a full airing of evidence.

Questions about the alleged conduct, the role of intermediaries, and the accuracy of disclosures to US investors remain unresolved in the public domain. For a company whose growth has been closely tied to government contracts and infrastructure projects, the absence of a definitive judicial finding leaves a cloud that pure process cannot fully dispel.

The episode also raises broader issues about cross-border enforcement and corporate accountability. American authorities have long used securities laws and anti-bribery statutes to police the conduct of foreign firms that raise capital or list in the United States. When such cases collapse amid acknowledged irregularities, confidence in the even-handedness of that system suffers—both among targeted companies and among those who believe powerful interests can influence outcomes. At the same time, Indian observers are entitled to ask whether domestic investigative and regulatory institutions are equipped to examine similar allegations with independence and rigour when they arise at home.

For Adani Group, the practical relief is real: a major legal threat has been removed. For Indian corporate governance more widely, the lesson is more cautionary. Global capital markets demand transparency that goes beyond technical compliance. When serious allegations surface and then disappear through procedural channels rather than transparent adjudication, the reputational cost lingers even if the legal one does not. The dismissal closes one chapter. It does not write the final word on the questions the case raised.

• SAS Kirmani