4 min readFeb 11, 2026 03:59 PM IST
First published on: Feb 11, 2026 at 03:59 PM IST
In the winter of 2018, during my basic training at the State Police Academy in Moradabad, a classroom discussion shifted from state laws to what was described as “unbecoming conduct” for a police officer. It was understandable that officers should maintain decorum in uniform and in public-facing situations. Our trainer Sub Inspector, however, took this idea to an extreme. He remarked that an IPS officer should never be seen eating gol gappe and narrated how he had once discreetly sent a woman IPS officer to a beauty parlour in civil clothes because it was considered inappropriate for an officer to be seen there. As someone who had just joined the police force, the rigidity of this view felt unsettling. While restraint in uniform makes sense, it raises a larger question: Should such expectations extend to an officer’s personal time, even when one is off duty and behaving with dignity?
The message was clear. Public servants are expected to live by a different set of social rules, ones that apply not only while on duty but also in their personal lives.
This expectation is not unique to India. When Finland’s Prime Minister Sanna Marin was filmed dancing at a private party, her personal life became a subject of public debate. Questions were raised about her judgement and capability, even though the incident occurred in her private time. The episode reflected a broader discomfort with the idea that people in positions of power can also lead ordinary lives.
A similar mindset was visible closer home when district court judges in Harda were suspended and transferred for performing a dance at a farewell gathering. Farewells in transferable services are rare moments of informality. There are occasions where hierarchy recedes, colleagues reflect on shared experiences, and professional bonds are strengthened. Yet even in such settings, expressions of joy were viewed as inappropriate.
These are not isolated incidents. Public servants are frequently criticised for dancing, singing, dressing casually, or engaging in leisure activities in their personal time. As a society, we continue to operate within a colonial inheritance that draws a sharp line between those who govern and those who are governed. Officials are often seen as a separate class, expected to be serious, restrained, and distant at all times.
Taken to its logical extreme, this thinking implies that public servants must perform their roles continuously, without space for individuality or personal expression. This raises a basic question. Does distancing officials from ordinary human experience improve public service, or does it weaken it?
There is also a contradiction at play. The same society that criticises officers for routine personal behaviour often applauds them for basic acts of empathy, such as sharing a meal with school children or sitting with anganwadi workers. Excessive praise for ordinary kindness and discomfort with ordinary human behaviour stem from the same assumption, that public servants are fundamentally different from everyone else.
A government position, however powerful, remains a job. It carries responsibility and public scrutiny, but it does not require the erasure of individuality. Civil servants are expected to perform their duties competently and to uphold both overt and covert codes of conduct associated with their office. Within these boundaries, there should be space for personal time and private life, provided they do not diminish the dignity of the institution they represent. Officers should neither be celebrated for merely doing their job nor condemned for engaging in ordinary, lawful personal activities.
Public institutions need well-rounded individuals who are capable, empathetic, and connected to the society they serve. Governance does not benefit from turning people into symbols. Public servants are not apart from society. They are very much a part of it.
The writer is an IPS officer. Views are personal
