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Journalism of Courage
A senior professional told me that he was writing two books – an autobiography in his mother tongue and memoirs in English. I wanted to know the difference. “The autobiography will have details of personal life, stories, and gossip. A memoir would be stoic and about professional life,” he said. When I got Duvvuri Subbarao’s book about his career, I slotted it as a “memoir”. But it is neither. He calls it notes from his life and career. The genre “notes” differs from the other two in interesting ways.
Both autobiography and memoir would have multiple characters, anecdotes and a context that lends to a narrative with the protagonist at the centre. And we would have interesting encounters. However, “notes” are unique. It is excessively centered around the protagonist, and others flash like the images seen from the window of a moving train. They add light and colour, but the focus is on the journey of the passenger. This should not be construed as a narcissistic trip. Far from it. It is a dispassionate assessment of the journey, from a distance, having an outside view of himself.
If the journey is through the lens of a civil servant, there would have to be variety, starting with district postings to the diverse assignments that come by. Talk to a civil servant and you would find that the district posting would weigh disproportionately high in the career. A place where the civil servant rules — wields power, has a close view on the immediate impacts and gets the opportunity to play god. Unfortunately, in Subbarao’s journey, this story is lacking – because he would not get a district posting for a decent duration. The reason could be the youthful idealism to “change the world” that makes him look unreasonable. Subbarao’s narrative demonstrates that at the entry level of the civil service, a district posting can give an opportunity to play god. At the same time, one is pretty helpless if the posting does not come by. He is too junior in the hierarchy, too new to the system, has difficulty in navigating levers of power, and has not cracked the code of the relationship between the people’s representatives and the bureaucracy. It is a situation where realpolitik trumps idealism.
Why does the book relate to people outside civil services? Why should we be interested in someone’s journey at all? The strength of the book gives the answers. The charm of the book is that the person at the core of the narrative disappears the moment the choices are thrown open, challenges are discussed and the morality of the situation is weighed in. Suddenly, these become our lives — universal and relatable. As the writer reflects on his life, the reader is encouraged to undertake a parallel journey and experience the same issues making it as much the reader’s life as of the writer.
How does one make choices? What are the considerations? How do we achieve our aspirations beyond serendipity and merit? Should one use networks, contacts, or just leave it to god? In the case of Subbarao, the choices were real – between family and career, between vertical growth and horizontal diversity of experience; the price he had to pay. Interestingly, none of the choices were driven by pecuniary considerations. Therefore, the title of the book is misleading and inappropriate. Subbarao justifies the title towards the end, in a touching letter drafted to his late mother. But the word “mercenary” is still not convincing. The choices that we encounter are between multiple causes – some “selfish” in the sense that it would enhance career prospects, and some “benign” because it is done at the cost of a personal comfort zone. In each of these there is no crushing ambition or compelling monetary incentive that creates an ethical dilemma.
Something that multiple books from a given context point out is very interesting. In the context of civil service in the undivided Andhra Pradesh, we find four names mentioned: BN Yugandhar, TL Shankar, BPR Vitthal and SR Sankaran. While there is no mention of Sankaran in this book, it is worth pondering on how some officers have loomed large across multiple generations of civil servants by virtue of their grit and principles. Both Subbarao and YV Reddy could have been a part of the brigade, but for their choices. Their zone of influence on the local bureaucracy was not as expansive, because they chose alternative opportunities outside this context to leave their imprint on institutions like the Reserve Bank of India. As a part of the comprehensive review of his career, Subbarao may like to use this as a lens to reflect upon.
Before I close, an observation: The boxes and the op-eds at the end of the chapters are irritating. It looks like the author is seeking endorsement of his choices through an established theory. The book would have been equally effective without those additions.
The writer is a professor at Centre for Public Policy, Indian Institute of Management, Bangalore
