How Articles 14, 21, & 51a are Invoked ‘Asymmetrically’ in Indian Jurisprudence

• When does constitutional morality become a ‘principle’ and when does it become a ‘preference’?
• Why does Article 14 ‘roar’ in some courtrooms and ‘whisper’ in others?
• Why is ‘dignity’ under Article 21 treated as ‘absolute’ in one case and ‘negotiable’ in another?
• And why is Article 51A summoned as a ‘moral whip’ only when ‘tradition’ is in the dock but never when ‘power, money, or influence’ distort equality?

India’s constitutional problem today is not the absence of morality. It is the ‘selective deployment’ of morality.

Over the past decade, “constitutional morality” has emerged as one of the most powerful — and least disciplined — concepts in Indian constitutional adjudication. In theory, it is meant to anchor judicial reasoning to constitutional values rather than popular sentiment. In practice, however, it has increasingly functioned as a directional tool, invoked aggressively in some contexts and conspicuously ignored in others.

This asymmetry is most visible in the invocation of Articles 14, 21, and 51A. Let us examine how.

Article 14: Equality as a Sword, Not a Scale

Article 14 guarantees equality before the law and equal protection of the laws. Its settled doctrine permits reasonable classification but prohibits arbitrariness.

In Shayara Bano v. Union of India (2017), the Court struck down triple talaq, holding that the practice was arbitrary and violated Article 14. The reasoning was clear: a practice that confers unilateral, uncanalized power, without safeguards, fails the test of equality. The judgment emphasized that arbitrariness itself is antithetical to equality.

Similarly, in Navtej Singh Johar v. Union of India (2018), Section 377 was read down. The Court held that criminalizing consensual same-sex relations violated Article 14 by treating a class of citizens as unequal based on an intrinsic characteristic. Equality here was expansive, substantive, and empathetic.

Now observe the contrast.

In cases involving economic or power-based differentiation within religious or institutional settings — such as VIP access, preferential treatment, or fast-track privileges — the arbitrariness test is often diluted or avoided altogether. Classification by wealth or status is treated as “administrative” rather than discriminatory, even when it alters lived equality.

Article 14, it appears, is rigorously ‘enforced’ when exclusion is ‘cultural’ but ‘relaxed’ when exclusion is ‘transactional.’

Equality becomes conditional.

Article 21: Dignity as Absolute — Except When It Isn’t

Article 21 has been interpreted to include dignity, autonomy, privacy, and meaningful life. Its expansion is one of the judiciary’s proudest achievements.

In Justice K.S. Puttaswamy v. Union of India (2017), privacy was declared intrinsic to dignity and personal liberty. The Court held that individual autonomy is non-negotiable and cannot be sacrificed at the altar of administrative convenience.

In Common Cause v. Union of India (2018), the right to die with dignity was recognized, reaffirming that Article 21 protects not merely biological existence, but the quality and meaning of life.

Yet dignity becomes oddly elastic in other contexts.

When individuals are made to wait indefinitely, segregated by status, or symbolically subordinated in public institutions, including places of worship, Article 21’s dignity discourse often disappears. The humiliation of enforced hierarchy is reframed as inconvenience. The erosion of equal spiritual access is deemed non-justiciable.

Dignity, it seems, is ‘fiercely protected’ in the private sphere but ‘negotiable’ in the collective one.

Article 51A: The Most Selectively Remembered Provision

Article 51A imposes fundamental duties, including developing scientific temper, humanism, and the spirit of reform.

In Indian Young Lawyers Association v. State of Kerala (2018) (the Sabarimala case), the Court leaned heavily — explicitly and implicitly — on Article 51A to justify reform. The judgment suggested that constitutional morality and the duty to reform social practices required judicial intervention, even at the cost of religious autonomy.

Reform, here, was treated as a constitutional imperative.

But where is Article 51A when social practices reinforce hierarchy through ‘wealth or power’?

Where is the call for ‘humanism’ when devotion is ‘stratified’?

Where is the ‘reformist’ impulse when access to the divine is ‘monetized’?

Article 51A is invoked when tradition resists modern sensibilities but ignored when modern structures entrench inequality.

Reform, it appears, is mandatory only when it ‘challenges the past,’ not when it ‘interrogates the present.’

The Pattern Is Unmistakable

Across these cases, a pattern emerges:

• Article 14 is enforced strictly against traditional practices, loosely against institutional privilege.
• Article 21 protects dignity zealously in individual autonomy cases, selectively in collective settings.
• Article 51A is used as a moral justification for reform, but never as a restraint on commodification or power-based hierarchy.

This is not ‘constitutional interpretation by doctrine.’ It is interpretation by ‘contextual comfort.’

Constitutional morality, in its original conception, was meant to discipline judicial power, not expand it. It was meant to ensure fidelity to the Constitution, not to provide a vocabulary for moral selectivity.

When morality is applied ‘asymmetrically,’ it ceases to be constitutional. It becomes ‘discretionary.’

Why This Matters

Selective morality corrodes legitimacy.

A court that appears principled in one case and permissive in another invites skepticism, not just of its outcomes, but of its intentions. Over time, this erodes public trust and turns constitutional litigation into a battleground of narratives rather than norms.

More dangerously, it exposes certain civilizational practices to perpetual scrutiny while insulating others from examination. That is not neutrality. That is imbalance.

The Constitution does not authorize courts to be moral maximalists in one domain and moral minimalists in another.

The Questions That Refuse to Go Away

• Is constitutional morality a ‘binding standard’ or a ‘rhetorical instrument’?
• Does ‘equality’ mean the same thing in every courtroom?
• Is dignity ‘absolute’ or ‘situational’?
• Is reform a duty only for ‘tradition,’ never for ‘power’?
• And until Articles 14, 21, and 51A are applied with ‘doctrinal symmetry’ rather than ‘selective zeal,’ are we witnessing constitutional morality at work, or merely morality wearing constitutional robes?