Non-Plan Obsolescence

Ex-bureaucrats never die, they fade away. But distinguished ex-bureaucrats only burn brighter. Proving the adage, Nand Kishore Singh—former osd in the pmo—was appointed member, Planning Commission, on minister of state rank, on May 1.

In his scathing critique of the economic liberalisation process of the early '90s, Deepak Nayyar, former advisor in the finance ministry, wrote about the revolving door between the finance ministry and multilateral organisations. Senior bureaucrats with a commendable service record are almost always rewarded with a highly lucrative stint in either the World Bank, the imf or the adb. Of late, a similar door seems to have sprung up between the administration and the Planning Commission, with the latter being stuffed with ex-bureaucrats and smaller ministers waiting for redemption.

So, when former finance secretary and economist Montek Singh Ahluwalia was nominated as independent reviewer in imf, officer on special duty (osd) in the pmo N.K. Singh was sent to fill his shoes. NK had retired from the ias at the end of 2000, after a long and sometimes controversial career in the finance ministry and the pmo towards the end, but his indispensability to the budget-making process resulted in a fresh appointment as osd. But post-budget and post-Tehelka tapes scandal, the Vajpayee government came under rising attack on corruption charges, most of which centred on the pmo. It seemed NK had to go, especially as he was on extension, and since he refused to become the ambassador to Canada, where else but Yojana Bhavan?

But some frown at the trend of filling the commission up with ex-bureaucrats—a parking lot for old Ambassador cars, as one described it. Right now, apart from deputy chairman K.C. Pant and ex-officio members Jaswant Singh, Yashwant Sinha and Arun Shourie, the commission has six members. Apart from economist S.P. Gupta and educationist Venkatasubramanian, the rest are former bureaucrats or ministers of state. Not only that, of 22 advisors, about 15 are ex-bureaucrats.

The ministry of planning—most of which is the commission—is 1,596 people strong, 293 taken on just last year. The wage bill alone comes to Rs 20-odd crore. It has also tripled its plan outlay from Rs 20 crore to Rs 62.4 crore. There is a simple and obvious reason for the sudden influx. With the retirement age for ias officers raised by two years, many lost their chances of promotion. Out of these, there were some who had to be shunted out for various reasons, or survived as remainder after a reshuffle. Yojana Bhavan became their next stop.

This is a far cry from the commission's heyday—in Nehru's time, it was even more powerful than the finance ministry! The decline started with Indira Gandhi, says an insider, and hit bottom during the time of Rajiv, who was clearly disdainful of the commission, even describing it once as a "pack of jokers". Since 1996, the UF government and then the Vajpayee government have tried hard to redeem its position in economic administration. Still, Yojana Bhavan—the country's largest financial intermediary, channelling a staggering Rs 85,000 crore of central and state funds every year—remains in the wilderness, in search of an identity.

Says an insider: "The commission is an extension of the government, though it's only an advisory body. It is not a statutory authority, not having originated from the Constitution or Parliament. It derives its authority from the government of the day." That's why the commission is reconstituted with every new government and the appointment of any member is always a political one.

That's precisely not what it was meant to be, a think tank offering impartial, independent strategic advice. So a Yojana Bhavan posting makes all appointees, barring academics, feel they are being dumped. A belief the entire senior organisation and the outside world shares. Last year, Shourie's report—which probed what had gone wrong with the commission—found senior officials describing it as "gaushala (cowshed)", "pinjrapole (zoo)", "a doormat", "an irrelevance", "an atrophied limb", etc.

The reason's not far to seek. There are various issues on which the commission's advice should be sought. It is not anymore. Nor has the government turned to it for new ideas, depending on task forces and groups of ministers instead. If it's because of the lack of reasonable advice, it's the government which is at fault for appointing officers, not specialists, to senior level. These "temporarily punished" officers take little interest in the divisions allocated to them, nor are they equipped to, causing a leadership hiatus. In 15 months over 1999-2000, there were three principal advisors on agriculture!

Says Shourie in his report: "The resultant atmosphere of mediocrity has meant that—career prospects apart—there is no peer group pressure for excellence and consequently, none of the sense of fulfillment that'd come from working among and for persons one respects." Giving an example of how badly red-taped the work culture had become, Shourie traces the journey of a file—a simple week-long training course costing Rs 1.4 lakh. Beginning June 1997, the file reached its destination on December 31, 1999, with 51 stops in between, and till January 2000, the payment had not been made! Meanwhile, the staff is busy attending meetings. Apart from being on the boards of 22 corporations, for instance, the industry and minerals advisor regularly attends meetings convened by as many committees. Clearly, the think tank of the nation hardly has any time to think!

Even the National Development Council work has degenerated. Many feel even post-liberalisation, the commission has a significant role if only as the sole spokesorgan for the poorer states. But look what happened in 1998 and 1999. State plan advisors visited 11 states only once, the rest were ignored. There's more. To complete annual plan exercises for 2000 early, states were asked to submit their plans by December 15. None adhered to the deadline. Twelve states sent it by February 10, the rest even later. Orissa sent its plan six months later, only to be duly approved! All inflated plans by the states are duly approved, even though the Financial Resources Department had indicated a lesser amount.

Not that there were no efforts to reorganise the commission—six so far, including the latest by Pant last year. Shourie's report makes clear recommendations; his advice to bring out a mid-term review was well-executed. In fact, so blunt was the review of the economy that warning bells rang in the pmo and there was some effort to block the publication. But three other recommendations by Shourie deserve more attention.

One, that the commission must not be used as a parking lot. Two, only those officers with expertise should be retained and the rest winnowed out. Three, it should convert itself into a Policy Planning Group and distance itself from the government. So far, none of these promises show any signs of being met.

When N.K. Singh duly becomes member-secretary, he'll have joined an illustrious list of predecessors, most of them eminent economists—C. Rangarajan, Manmohan Singh, Arjun Sengupta, Bimal Jalan and Ahluwalia. It's an important post too—he controls all the funds releases and as a result, enjoys all the privileges associated with it. Though his powers may be nowhere near what he had in the pmo, NK may well succeed in using his new post as a significant lever. Like Ahluwalia did. If NK remains true to his reputation, he is likely to go the same bright path.