Identities Project – Episode 6
Article 1 – How identity systems influence complex gender realities
In ‘The Social Justice Advocate’s Handbook: A Guide to Gender’, author Sam Killermann notes
“Gender is like a Rubik’s Cube with one hundred squares per side, and every time you twist it to take a look at another angle, you make it that much harder a puzzle to solve.”
t was important to us from the beginning of this project that we considered as many as possible, if not all, important factors at play in the discussion of identity. Gender is key amongst them, even if it is a many-dimensional element. It conditions relationships and interactions that people may have with others in a society, often to an extreme degree.
With our research, we wanted to especially focus on two questions with regard to gender: do women face different challenges to men in obtaining and formalizing their identity? And secondly, once they do have access to “an identity” – does it empower them in some way to ameliorate unequal gender dynamics?
When it came to obtaining identity credentials, all women we interviewed were aware of the need for these.
Several mentioned the men in their lives as playing key roles. Jamima, a widowed street-cart vendor of bangles and other accessories in Kesarpur near Delhi said her father-in-law helped obtain her voter card. In rural Assam, Alvira mentioned “my father, brother-in-law and husband take care of these things”. Another Assamese interviewee was very uncomfortable being asked about identity and kept calling her fourteen-year old nephew in to answer questions because “he knows more about this than I do”. Similarly, when Shailaja, a domestic help, moved to Bengaluru from her village, it was her brother who helped her rent a room using his ID. And in Delhi, Kaajol, a kiosk and tea stall vendor who moved to the city from Kolkata, got the help of her brother to get her documents.
However, it is important to note that this help may be for different reasons – either feeling uncomfortable in government spaces, thinking that men understand these processes more, feeling the need or being taken under protection by male relatives, or it may even be a clear strategy on the part of women to outsource this to the men in the family.
Sometimes, women mentioned that the steps they needed to complete (like filling in application forms or specifying a job within a form) sometimes made them felt inadequate because it reminded them they weren’t in possession of certain skills.
When we observed Parvati, a home help, opening a bank account, she was denied an ATM card because she could not sign (though her thumbprint was accepted on all forms). She said, “each time I have to go the bank and fill that form, it reminded me that I must at least know how to sign my name even if I cannot read and write”. Not coincidentally, she fought to get an Aadhaar card for her children so that they could “achieve a status that I never will get … I never climbed the stairs of a school” (this with regard to Aadhaar numbers now being required for school admission in Delhi). We found the mothers in our sample as acutely aware of obtaining identity credentials for their children.
Delays and uncertainty in bureaucratic procedures are another factor that impacted on womens’ time away from home, and the responsibilities they had towards family members, especially in-laws and children. Many of our female respondents also faced challenges because of the time cost of gathering supporting documents to prove identity, especially when they worked outside the house. As Gudia, a factory worker in Delhi’s Kesarpur noted, a day’s running around to collect documents for credentials means the equivalent in lost wages.
Another key concern which arose much more for female interviewees than male at the point of enrollment was around privacy, particularly physical privacy.
Ganga, a Rajasthani puppet seller wearing the ghungat (or veil) in Delhi emphasized the importance of her husband being with her during the Aadhaar registration process, to the extent of holding her hand down during finger-printing. She added: “see even here on my card (business card), which I have given you… it has my son’s mobile number and contact. And on this side, it has my husband’s contact details. Nowhere is my mobile number mentioned. No. My mobile number (showing a feature phone) is only for my children. For them to contact me, or for me to contact them. My phone is just for the family. My number is not for public.”
Do women find value in the enrollment and use of identity credentials? It depends. For some women – particularly workers in unorganized sectors such as street cleaners and the garment factory workers of Kesarpur – an identity (including Aadhaar, a company ID, voter ID and ration card) was critical. After obtaining these, they felt they could not only access benefits but access work, which gave them a sense of empowerment. Sumitra Didi, a Madhubani artist, felt her most important ID artefact was actually her artist’s guild card because it made her proud. But others, like Anjali, a home-maker in Kesarpur, felt an Aadhaar card was no use to her, as what she really wanted to do was work outside the house and her husband would not allow her.
Tempering this individual desire to be identified and be visible is the networked web of dependencies and hierarchies women are deeply embedded in. Digital identities (i.e. being on Facebook and WhatsApp) were closely guarded both by women themselves and their families in this demographic. Many of our female interviewees mentioned mobile privacy – being careful of what they shared on a mobile. Imama in Delhi, while acknowledging the importance of mobiles, was wary of the dangers involved if her mobile fell into the wrong hands. Privacy – at least amongst those we interviewed – was seen as very much a woman’s own responsibility; the onus of not behaving “badly” or “wrongly” (“galat” was the word used) was on them. This was especially the case for younger women. When we spoke to one father, he said “my daughter does not indulge in any wrong practices. They are good children”. But brothers also appeared as online identity gatekeepers, either stating that they didn’t want their sisters online or helping them navigate their identities online (e.g. by telling them to put a “nice”, approved picture on their WhatsApp profile). Younger teenage girls often stated they did not use mobiles, though later they told us they used their brothers’ or older friends’.
Another twist is that while many women obtain identity credentials such as ration cards (in the name of the oldest woman in the family, as opposed to the typical situation where the oldest male is the named beneficiary), open zero balance accounts (accounts with no minimum balance requirements, part of the financial inclusion effort of the Indian Government in 2014), and apply for the increasing number of government schemes being launched for women, many of these are in reality used by men. On more than one occasion we found women’s names being used for loans that were in reality going to benefit their husband’s businesses (link to the transaction story for this episode), despite the relevant loan scheme being set up to benefit women. Hence, while the intention may be for women to progress by proving their identity so they can avail of certain benefits, it may not necessarily truly add value to their lives.
Gender is also not binary. This is not often acknowledged in programmes that impact huge swathes of people. A noticeable exception is the UK government’s 2021 Census topic consultation held in 2015, which asked for the public’s views on what questions the 2021 census should cover. The concluding report specifically noted that gender identity should be looked at as a new topic, reflecting the fact that the trans community, trans identities and gender identity matters are becoming more visible in the mainstream media.
India has a long way to go in this department, a fact we mentioned in Episode 5.
If access to identity is meant to empower women and progress towards SDG 5, we need to to address the broader context that women are entrenched in. “Women” are neither homogenous, nor passive, nor victims, but they are embedded – to greater or lesser extents – in complex relationships. Small changes are happening but depend on the agency of individual women and those who support them. It was the constant harassment by her in-laws and husband which finally led Shailaja to relocate to the city (whether or not she had all the necessary credentials to get her by) for the sake of maintaining her dignity.
She pushed herself to learn to sign for an ATM card and lives independently as the sole provider for her daughter but also depends on her brother’s family, who initially helped her get accommodation and with her daughter’s admission to school as well as other simple but important things like getting a bus pass. It may be argued that women such as Shailaja have not gained absolute agency and empowerment. Nonetheless, they have sought to navigate and express themselves within the specific power-ridden contexts they belong to, and identity credentials have been key in opening this door.
Article 2 – Do identity systems work for women? How social relations trump technological systems
Something we’ve found during our research is that, contrary to what we’d hoped, the implementation of new identity systems often places users in tricky situations which reinforce traditional forms of patriarchy. Achieving the right balance between collecting information that is required for a successful transaction and doing it in a way that satisfies both parties is not always easy.
In Assam, we observed a couple of instances of women being placed in situations that clearly made them uncomfortable. At the Grameen Bank in Bilgaon, we saw a woman who had come to check if her salary had been paid into her bank account. In order to access her account, she needed to provide her thumbprint via biometrics, but it couldn’t be read when she placed her hand on the device.
As a result, the bank agent, Maqbul, a man, intervened by grabbing her hand and placing her thumb in the right position – something she was clearly, and understandably, unhappy with.
On the one hand, this was probably something Maqbul felt he had to do in order to properly execute his duty. On the other, we are left with a situation where the woman was immediately rendered powerless, and it unwittingly reinforced the power play that is typical of male-female relationships in most societies.
One of the most commonly-claimed benefits of identity systems is that they can empower individuals by giving them better access to their data, in what is purported to be a secure manner.
The exchange above showed us that identity systems are simply not immune to gender dynamics. Conversely, were there any other options offered to Maqbul, as the agent who probably performs the same actions on a weekly, if not daily, basis?
We also spoke to Narisa, a woman who had come to the bank to open an account so that she could apply for a loan from the government that she, as a woman, was eligible for. It transpired that although the loan was going to be taken in her name, it was actually for her husband. We asked why he couldn’t apply for the loan himself and she said it was because “it was only for ladies”.
She added: “The [river] Brahmaputra eroded our lands and the government has provided us a plot of land. My husband is in business of hatching [chicks] and wanted a loan to expand.” Being uneducated, she was upfront about this circumvention of the rules of the loan, and possibly unaware that it didn’t show her in a positive light. This incident revealed that identity systems that are put in place to help a particular gender – women, in this case – can easily be used to reinforce the patriarchy by the very people they are meant to help. Maqbul, for his part, wasn’t too concerned by the fact that the loan might be used by her husband. It was more or less accepted that this was a common practice. If he did complain, he’d probably only create more trouble for himself.
After Narisa left, our Sylheti translator stated: “Actually they have some traditional rules, especially in backward societies, that women should be at home only, and she should not work outside the home. This is the main thing.” His biased language reminded us of the clash of contexts for Narisa – she had to navigate her domestic situation, which required her to be submissive and take a less important role, but also the one she was placed in at the bank, where she was required to assert her identity and her role as a potential loan beneficiary. Narisa’s situation is made complex due to the conflict between the two different roles that she was required to perform at the same time – and she was also uncomfortable when we asked to take a photograph of her, out of fear of retribution by her husband.
Identity systems should be objective, and users of a system have a right to expect that they will not be discriminatory. But as we have seen, systems that use technology like biometrics – and those that have strict processes around identity verification – can’t quite disrupt traditionally held notions of superiority in societies like India. Further, with intermediaries as part of the system, like Maqbul, identity systems are often tinged with human bias – they are not purely machine-driven, and it would be a mistake to consider it as such.
We’re aiming with this research to highlight how users of identity systems exist within the context of relationships, not just the process of creating or using identity credentials.
By doing this, we open up issues such as power and individual agency for wider critique – which otherwise might go unchallenged.
Article 3 – What we’ve learnt about identities over the past six months
Over the last six months, our research team has spoken to hundreds of people whose lives are being directly affected by the implementation and use of identity cards in India.
As we wind towards the final report, we thought our readers might benefit from a look into the minds of the researchers who have been the first point of contact on the ground. What have they learnt from this process?
What is the single most interesting observation that you have made during this research so far?
Sarita Seshagiri (SS):
That identity artefacts live on in some form or the other, even after the individual they belong to is no more. There is no complete death of one ID or the other (date of issue and expiry notwithstanding), because some content of that artefact would have been the basis for creating another.
Ananya Basu (AB):
The contradictions that arise between one’s identity on paper and the way one actually wants to identify, especially in terms of geographies in the case of migrants. The voter ID card which is the primary identity document in most cases was what was referred to as the pehchaan patra (identity card) by most respondents who were migrants. This pehchaan patra is usually registered to their area of origin, where their home is. Unless there is no other way, migrants generally prefer to retain their original voter cards, linked to this area. This is especially true for those who have migrated to a different place. There is a tussle in their minds about where they belong. A part of them knows that they might never go back to their place of origin but when asked to introduce themselves they’d still claim to belong from there.
Holding on to a document that affirms their origin on paper, I felt, could be a way to keep that link alive.
Janaki Srinivasan (JS):
I have been fascinated throughout by how ID cards simultaneously say too much and too little about a person. They can say too much about a person, hence the widely-raised concerns around privacy (and that we raise as well, in our report). But IDs also say too little – because they include details that institutions would like of someone, which is often not how that someone would describe herself!
Supriya Dey (SD):
Generic identity systems – their processes as well as the artefacts they use – pay no attention to citizens with special needs, such as the visually impaired or senior citizens with multiple disabilities.
Are there regional differences in the interviewees’ attitudes to identities in India? If so could you name one that stood out for you?
SS: In Delhi (because we don’t want to and ought not to generalize for the rest of the northern states), the ID card was seen as necessary for ensuring national security and to not be perceived as a ‘terrorist’ in its absence. This is probably due to Delhi’s historically strategic position in the country (as a centre of political power, and its geographical proximity to the borders). However, in Karnataka, ID cards were seen as something that should be kept handy in order to deal with specific situations (travelling by air/train/bus, having a sidewalk shop and having to deal with street-side goons or cops). What was CONSISTENT however for BOTH Delhi and Karnataka was the importance given to ID cards if it facilitated further access to services, benefits or entitlements.
JS: What I found significant was how differently and how frequently migrants and non-migrants ended up thinking about identities (both in a broader sense and in terms of ID cards). As someone who had moved to a new city, all migrants (temporary and permanent) spoke of their difficulties in getting their first ID card, or in deciding what IDs to make that were associated with their “native” place and which ones with their new homes.
SD: Interviewees’ attitudes to current identity systems were a complex function of the social, political and economic conditions of each location. Motivations to procure identity artefacts differed, yet these artefacts provide to each one a sense of security.
The travelling acrobats from Shirdi move from state to state along with their families “for food and water”, as long as they “get some income”. Yet, for Nasher, “there is no life without wife and child”, and he procured all the required ID artefacts for his children, rather than himself. “My life is now wasted, but I want a better future for my children. Let us not have any money. But our children’s money should be safe.” He hopes the ID artefacts will ensure the financial security of his children.
In Assam, responses from interviewees on ID artefacts reveal their inherent fear and apprehension of not belonging, “I don’t have any tension. I have all the essential documents; I can show my documents. They can’t send me to Bangladesh,” said a defensive Alvira.
What is the one thing that governments who want to implement identity systems should consider before embarking on such a project, in your opinion?
SS: They should not replace or supplant existing social systems built around trust, social capital and interpersonal networks. In this, the role of intermediaries is especially critical. Right now, intermediaries (lower ranking officials or staff in grassroots agencies who are part of the social network of villagers themselves) function as mere dalaals (touts), who try to make a quick buck on the side while attempting to help people navigate through the system. Why not empower them and encourage them to behave better, giving them direct and structured access to information without having to resort to possible unlawful means?
AB: There are already various kinds of identity systems in operation, so any new system needs to take these into account. The biggest issue in India is the exclusion of most vulnerable sections from ID systems. Any country with sections of population that are ignored, vulnerable and marginalised is likely to face this issue. The effort should now be towards empowering individuals already enrolled in ID systems, not just registering them onto a database for provision of welfare schemes.
There are already various kinds of identity systems in operation, so any new system needs to take these into account.
Control over and access to data also needs to be considered. While the requirement for the government to have access to information of residents and citizens is understandable, any access that third party agencies and private corporates may have could breach individual privacy, as in the case of Aadhaar data that private companies also have access to.
JS: That identities are not fixed, they are not singular. People deploy different identities in different circumstances, and their identities change all the time, for perfectly valid reasons (i.e. a need for different identities is not necessarily about being a crook or trying to game the system). An identity system must, at the very least, allow people flexibility in how they enroll into and change their details on an identity system, as well as in their usage. Since an identity system includes not just an ID card, but the legal and social ecology within which that ID can be used, this flexibility should apply not just to an ID card, but also to whether it is made mandatory, what privacy choices people have within it etc.
Do you have one recommendation for ensuring that the needs of under-served populations (people with disabilities or otherwise marginalised) are catered to when it comes to identity cards and systems?
SS: There ought to be some means that can weld together people’s dynamic lives with their static identities on cards. Smart cards perhaps. The status and changes in the former should constantly get updated in the latter. It should update spatially and even temporally. That way, such individuals do not lose out on services and benefits that they are entitled to just because they cannot physically present themselves to authenticate a transaction.
AB: Representation from these communities during the process of designing, decision-making and implementation of identity systems.
JS: People spend a lot of time getting, fixing and using their various ID cards. This is especially true of those who are least able to afford this time. For instance, low-income populations who most depend on welfare schemes that require IDs may have to give up their day’s wage every time they get involved in a time-consuming ID-related process. Every time a new identity system is introduced, this is the population that suffers the most. Therefore, the benefits of introducing yet another new identity system – however technologically disruptive it might be deemed to be – must be weighed very carefully against the costs and disruptions in people’s lives. Can an older system – that people know how to use or work with – be made to work better with some tweaks? That is a question always worth asking.
SD: Identity artefacts at the very least need to be embossed or Braille-enabled for the visually challenged. Also, the process of credentialing senior citizens and the disabled needs to be simplified, and authentication technologies need to cater to people with physical disabilities. Intermediaries need to be educated about the needs of these citizens. Lastly, fingerprint matching is clearly not the best authentication mechanism in many situations for the differently abled (because of how their bodies are built), and other fallback schemes need to be designed.
You’ve interviewed hundreds of people for this project, and encountered some over-arching themes which we look forward to reading in the final report. For now, could you give us one short anecdote or comment from the people you interviewed that you think is worth reflecting on, for everyone interested in this subject?
SS: There were some interesting observations from several interviews in rural Karnataka and some areas of urban Delhi. The question we asked was about privacy; or what they felt ought not to be revealed about themselves in their ID cards.
In most cases people responded that they did not know English, or were not educated to know much about such things. Then they recounted how they had strong and informal relations with each other, based on trust, years of familiarity (they’d been through highs and lows together) and shared context. The general sentiment was: “We don’t need IDs when we know each other so well. IDs are mere formalities. And what is there to hide about me in these IDs? I trust the ration shop manager to not lose my ID card when I have accidentally left it with him and he trusts me to not take more than my fair share of rations.”
Hence, when we introduce concepts like privacy or information-sharing to users, let us pause to understand what it means in their context. Let us not rush to push the mainstream/ top-down definition of privacy. Let us do a bit of lens reversal that is rooted instead in the user-space, context and circumstance. It is not always about individual privacy in the rural context. How about privacy for the sake of collective dignity?
AB: The lack of information regarding processes and ways of obtaining identity documents among low-income groups, especially migrant workers in a new place, is worth considering. While the requirements for making different identity documents is now available online on government websites, access to the internet is still a problem for many. And therefore people spend a significant amount of time as they go to and fro between different officials.
Here’s Ankur from rural Delhi on making a ration card: “We used to go everyday to the office. Five times my form was cancelled. And they won’t even tell us on the day of the submission what the problems are with it so that we can correct it and submit it the next day. They’ll tell us 4-5 days later. A number is given to the form and we are told to come back on some later date and then stand in queue on that day again waiting for my number to be called. When my turn comes finally at the end of the day, they point out the mistake, which again is mostly the absence of the landlord’s sign and the room agreement. Then one has to run around to get the sign, if somehow we manage that and resubmit, then again it gets cancelled; because that time they hadn’t given the full information that a room agreement is also required. Then for that we have to go to the court to get the rent agreement made where we have to shell out money, some will ask for Rs 200, while some will ask for Rs. 300 to make the agreement. Then again the form will get cancelled because I haven’t attached a police verification form. So then we have run to the police station to get their stamp.”
JS: I find that the buzz today around formal identity systems sometimes makes us forget that people have been finding ways to ‘place’ and verify people’s credentials for a very long time (with all the negative and positive implications of placing people in these ways). Talking to traders in a wholesale market in an old part of Delhi, we asked them how they found workers for their shops:
Interviewers: Now, your workers aren’t all from here are they?
Trader: No, mostly from outside, 80% are from outside
Interviewers: Do you ask for identity, proof when they join?
Trader: Most labour here is very old. Dates back to our grandfather or great grandfather’s times. Their sons, grandsons work here. This one (points to person manning front desk) is the 6th generation. Most of them come from Gurgaon or Sonepat.
Interviewers: And most of them are old/known?
Trader: Yes, mostly, or they’re through folks we know. If someone’s neighbour needs work, and he gets his neighbor work, he then has to take responsibility for this neighbour if he gets him work.
Interviewers: So, that is more important than an ID card?
Trader: Word of mouth, person to person, yes. Card has no value.
I think it is worth pondering over what these different ways of identifying people offer us, and how they differ from each other. Do these different systems prove beneficial for specific population groups? For different purposes/services? For instance, word of mouth identity systems might feel more trustworthy to people. But they might also restrict who finds employment along existing stereotypes around caste or religion. Can newer identity systems attempt to break this? Or do they end up achieving the same end, merely in a different way? I don’t have answers to all these questions. But what this research has taught me is that it is critical to constantly ask these questions in different settings, instead of assuming the superiority of one system over another.
SD: While interviews do reveal interviewees’ perspectives that governments need identity systems to ensure legitimate accessibility to services and subsidies where required and to weed out bogus recipients of such services, the interviews also reveal the lack of trust of the common man in the government’s (represented by the politicians’) ultimate motivation for identification mechanisms. In rural Assam, people were apprehensive on being asked about their resident status. They suspected the researcher of being a government agent who would gather data and misrepresent it. A prospective interviewee refused to be interviewed. “What do you want to know? We are legal residents of this state since generations. You people from the government come and collect information and go back and write whatever you feel like,” he said.
While their lack of cooperation and defensive attitude is a challenge for the researcher, it also reveals the underlying mistrust in the government’s identification schemes.
