The Family Profession: Why Judges, Civil Servants & Army Officers Often Run in the Family in India

Walk into an Indian courtroom, and there’s a fair chance the judge’s surname might ring a bell. Maybe his father presided in that very court years ago. Similarly, flip through the civil list of IAS officers or the alumni records of the National Defence Academy – you’ll spot multiple repeated last names. It’s almost as if certain prestigious careers have become a family business in India. Children of judges often grow up to don judicial robes themselves; the sons and daughters of civil servants frequently crack the UPSC and become bureaucrats; and generation after generation in some military families have served with stripes on their shoulders. Why does this happen, and what does it mean for a country that prides itself on meritocracy?

In this informal deep-dive, we’ll critically explore why these professional lineages are so prevalent in India. We’ll look at some eye-opening data on how deep the rabbit hole of occupational inheritance goes, hear what experts and insiders have to say about the cultural and systemic factors at play, and ponder the implications for fairness and diversity. Grab a cup of chai – this is going to be an interesting chat about “like father, like son” in the Indian context.

Judges Begetting Judges: “Judicial Dynasties”

The Indian judiciary is often held up as a temple of justice, but peek behind the curtain and you’ll find family networks quietly at work. It’s no secret that many judges come from what critics call “judicial dynasties.” In fact, an investigation by ThePrint found that one of every three high court judges in India has a close relative who is or was a judge, or comes from a family of lawyers (High court judges: 1 in 3 related to judges, ex-judges or lawyers). At the Supreme Court level, things are even more striking – roughly 30% of sitting Supreme Court judges are related to former judges, and another 30% are second- or third-generation lawyers (High court judges: 1 in 3 related to judges, ex-judges or lawyers). Translation: well over half of India’s top judges have a legal lineage. It’s a bit like a club where membership is often hereditary.

Take a high-profile example: Justice D.Y. Chandrachud, the current Chief Justice of India, is literally a second-generation CJI – his father Y.V. Chandrachud served as Chief Justice in the late 1970s (Indian Judiciary to have only father-son duo as CJI when Justice DY Chandrachud takes over next month – India Today). This father-son duo is unique in the Supreme Court’s history, but it underscores a broader pattern of the robe being passed down through generations. Many other judges have had parents or mentors paving the way. Walk through the halls of certain high courts and you might bump into portraits of father-son judges, judge couples, even judge in-laws. The Allahabad High Court, for instance, has around 15 judges who hail from judge families (yes, families of judges are a thing) (Supreme Court and Narendra Modi govt’s latest bone of contention: Judicial dynasties – Firstpost). It’s not to say these scions lack talent, but it does hint that the judiciary, much like Bollywood or politics, has its share of “born to the profession” stories (Supreme Court and Narendra Modi govt’s latest bone of contention: Judicial dynasties – Firstpost).

So, how do these judicial family trees grow so tangled? One reason often cited is the collegium system – where sitting judges have the power to appoint new judges – operating behind closed doors. Critics argue that this opaque system has enabled an old boys’ network to flourish. As senior advocate Indira Jaising bluntly puts it, “the data from previous appointments shows that children of judges become judges, [and] lobbies exist” in the judiciary (Supreme Court and Narendra Modi govt’s latest bone of contention: Judicial dynasties – Firstpost). She describes powerful invisible networks where vested interests nudge forward the careers of those with the right connections or last names (Supreme Court and Narendra Modi govt’s latest bone of contention: Judicial dynasties – Firstpost). In her view, nepotism can creep in under the guise of “discretion” in appointments. Another veteran, Justice K. Chandru (retired from Madras High Court), has observed “rampant inbreeding in the positions of power in the higher judiciary” over decades – a reality that flies in the face of the constitutional promise that no citizen will be favored or discriminated against on grounds of descent (High court judges: 1 in 3 related to judges, ex-judges or lawyers).

It doesn’t help that becoming a judge isn’t through a clear exam or open competition (unlike other careers we’ll discuss later). One typically must first establish oneself as a lawyer or climb the lower court ranks, and then hope to be elevated. In this process, having insider knowledge, mentorship, and a recognizable surname can work like an unwritten recommendation letter. Judges who are part of the collegium might tend (consciously or not) to pick candidates from familiar circles – former colleagues’ kids, eminent lawyers’ progeny, and yes, their own kin. There’s even a tongue-in-cheek term lawyers use: “uncle judges,” hinting at how junior lawyers with family connections get a leg up in certain high courts. While the judiciary fiercely guards its independence from political influence, it hasn’t quite shaken off family influence. As Jaising warns, “Nepotism destroys the judiciary; it begins with the lowest rung… introduce friends and relatives at the level of district judge then get them to the high courts and then the Supreme Court” (Supreme Court and Narendra Modi govt’s latest bone of contention: Judicial dynasties – Firstpost). The result is a judiciary where merit and surname sometimes intermingle in uncomfortable ways.

The Civil Services Club: Bureaucracy as a Family Tradition

If the courts have judicial dynasties, the Indian Civil Services have their own legacy league. Every year, when the UPSC civil services exam results come out, newspapers celebrate inspiring toppers – often highlighting the self-made success stories of candidates from humble backgrounds. Yet, hidden in plain sight is another story: a significant chunk of those new IAS and IPS officers are hardly first-generation bureaucrats. They are the sons and daughters of government officials, practically bred for bureaucracy.

Data from the Lal Bahadur Shastri National Academy of Administration (LBSNAA) – the training academy for new civil servants – reveals just how strong this trend is. Since 2014, at least half of all new IAS, IPS, and IFS officers each year have come from families where the father (and presumably/or mother) was in government service (50% IAS, IFS recruits are children of govt servants. But this is a story of their merit). In 2019, for example, 50.9% of the officer trainees at LBSNAA had fathers who were government employees (50% IAS, IFS recruits are children of govt servants. But this is a story of their merit). The numbers were similar (often even higher) in preceding years – 57.4% in 2017, 55.1% in 2016, 57.1% in 2015, and a whopping 60% in 2014 (50% IAS, IFS recruits are children of govt servants. But this is a story of their merit). So roughly half to more than half of India’s new top bureaucrats each year are effectively following mom or dad into the “family profession.” Surprised? One senior IAS officer quipped that it “makes you think, what if the UPSC did not have an exam? It would be as bad as any other profession – only children of IAS becoming IAS.” (50% IAS, IFS recruits are children of govt servants. But this is a story of their merit) In other words, the competitive exam does allow outsiders in, but the playing field might be tilted by upbringing and access.

Unlike judicial appointments, the civil services have a clear, supposedly meritocratic entry route: a brutal nationwide exam process. How, then, do so many insiders’ kids keep acing it? Part of the reason is what sociologists call social capital and exposure. An IAS officer’s child grows up in an environment where phrases like “district collector” or “cabinet secretary” are dinner-table conversation. They likely attend good schools (often central schools or elite schools in cities), have educated parents to guide their studies, and crucially, they see the civil service as an achievable ambition. “A government employee’s child would always have had the grooming, the inclination and the social capital to want to become an IAS officer,” an officer from a farming background told ThePrint (50% IAS, IFS recruits are children of govt servants. But this is a story of their merit). By contrast, he noted, a farmer’s talented kid might set their sights lower simply because becoming a top bureaucrat feels too far-fetched in their world (50% IAS, IFS recruits are children of govt servants. But this is a story of their merit).

Marching in Their Fathers’ Boots: The Armed Forces

The Indian Armed Forces have long enjoyed a reputation of discipline, honor, and a certain old-world tradition. One such tradition has been the martial family legacy – the image of young cadets marching in the same boots as their father or grandfather. Stroll through the Indian Military Academy’s campus and you’ll find memorials and halls named after officers, sometimes encountered again as surnames on cadets’ rolls. Historically, it was a matter of immense pride for an Army officer to have his son join his regiment, or for generations of a family to serve in the military. Indeed, the Services are replete with stories like Field Marshal K.M. Cariappa’s son following him into the Air Force – continuity of service running like bloodlines. But how strong is this phenomenon today?

Interestingly, recent data suggests that the grip of family lineage in the armed forces has been loosening (at least compared to the past). A study of six recent batches at the National Defence Academy (the premier tri-services officer training institute) found that cadets from non-military backgrounds now form the vast majority (More Civilian Background Cadets Joining National Defence Academy). Out of a total of 1,862 cadets in those six cohorts, 75.67% were from completely civilian families, with no military background (More Civilian Background Cadets Joining National Defence Academy). Only 5.47% were children of commissioned officers, and about 18.9% were children of JCOs or jawans (Junior Commissioned Officers or other enlisted ranks) (More Civilian Background Cadets Joining National Defence Academy) (More Civilian Background Cadets Joining National Defence Academy). This means roughly a quarter of the cadets had some military lineage, while three-quarters were first-generation military entrants. Compare this to a few decades ago: earlier, the number of officers’ kids joining NDA was much higher – it was almost expected that if your dad was a Colonel, you’d at least try for the NDA. As one report noted, “earlier, the number of children of officers used to be high at the NDA… Over the past 15 years, the numbers have been coming down steadily.” (More Civilian Background Cadets Joining National Defence Academy)

Conclusion: Meritocracy or Monopoly?

In a country of a billion dreams, no dream should be restricted to those who happen to be born in the “right” family. And that’s the crux of the matter – ensuring that the judge’s gavel, the civil servant’s pen, and the officer’s sword are symbols of opportunity for all, not heirlooms passed down to a select few. The conversation isn’t about blaming those who followed their parents, but about making sure anyone with the capability can join their ranks. Only then can India claim with a straight face that it truly lives up to the ideal of meritocracy it aspires to.

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