The recent push toward implementing 12-hour workdays in India is not merely a policy misstep — it is a direct violation of both international labour standards and the Indian Constitution’s foundational values. It reflects an erosion of hard-won protections for workers and a retreat from the country’s commitment to social justice, dignity, and equitable development.
The International Labour Organization (ILO), established in 1919 after the devastating First World War, was founded precisely to combat the exploitation of industrial workers and ensure their well-being. One of its first and most important conventions was passed during its inaugural conference in Washington on 29 October 1919. It clearly set the standard: a maximum of 8 working hours per day and 48 hours per week. This applied across construction, manufacturing, mining, and transport sectors, and was meant to apply to both private and public employment. Although exceptions were allowed in special cases, even these were limited to a 56-hour weekly cap, with mandatory rest days.
India, still under colonial rule at the time, ratified this ILO resolution on 14 July 1921. This led to the creation of the Factories Act, enshrining these standards in law. The intent was to ensure that workers enjoyed health, safety, and freedom in choosing their profession, while also maintaining a balance between work and life.
India’s Constitution reaffirms these principles. Its Preamble lays out the vision for a society based on justice—social, economic, and political. When industrial workers are pushed to work 12-hour shifts while government employees work only eight, the promise of social justice is nullified. It is a betrayal of the constitutional ideal of equality of status and opportunity.
This undermines the notion of dignity in labour, too. A society where workers are stripped of rest, leisure, and time for cultural and family life can hardly be called a just one. If factory owners and managers themselves are not subjected to 12-hour shifts, can they truly claim that such a demand is fair? Their economic and social status, vastly superior to that of the labourers, belies the notion of shared sacrifice.
Part IV of the Constitution — the Directive Principles of State Policy — further underscores the obligations of the state. Article 38 mandates the promotion of welfare by securing a social order where justice and equality prevail. Article 39 instructs the state to ensure that citizens have adequate means of livelihood, and that economic necessity does not force anyone into degrading conditions. Article 42 calls for the state to ensure just and humane conditions of work.
Twelve-hour shifts directly violate these directives. They endanger workers’ health, strain physical and mental capacities, and amount to exploitation driven by economic vulnerability. Instead of bridging inequalities, they worsen them. Rather than raising the standard of living, they risk further impoverishing already marginalised sections.
Proponents of such a policy must be asked: are these laws truly designed to protect workers, or to legalise their exploitation? If the government enacts such changes, does it remain a neutral guardian of justice — or does it become complicit in eroding the rights of the weak?
Article 43 of the Constitution envisions a work environment that allows workers not only to survive, but to thrive, enjoy rest, and participate in social and cultural life. Article 46 directs the state to protect the interests of weaker sections — which includes industrial labourers. How can these mandates be fulfilled when workers are chained to 12-hour schedules?
Finally, Article 47 declares it a primary duty of the state to improve the standard of living. If a worker can only achieve this by working 12 hours daily, and not by working 8 hours under just conditions, then we must question whose standard of living the state is actually protecting.
The push for 12-hour workdays is not simply a labour issue — it is a test of India’s commitment to its own constitutional soul. It asks us whether the republic values human dignity over industrial profits, and whether it still believes in the promise it made to its citizens at the time of independence. The answer must be loud and clear: no law or policy that reduces workers to instruments of production can be accepted in a democratic, humane society.
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*Senior economist based in Ahmedabad
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