Supreme Court’s menstrual leave remarks aren’t the problem. Hiring bias is

For years now, the debate around menstrual leave has unfolded in spaces where women’s lived realities often feel reduced to abstractions. As if the experience itself can be debated without fully understanding what it entails. And what makes it worse is how casually these concerns are sometimes brushed aside — as jokes, as exaggerations, as something not serious enough to warrant structural change.

It is this casualness that stings. The normalisation of making light of women’s realities, as if they are minor inconveniences rather than recurring, often painful experiences that directly affect how one functions at work.

After all, reducing women’s lived experiences to punchlines has transcended generations and genres.

What the judgment reveals

But sitting with that initial anger, it becomes clear that this judgment is not simply about men versus women. It is more layered, about something far more deeply ingrained.

The idea that accommodating women’s biological realities somehow makes them “less employable” isn’t new, it does not exist in a vacuum, it is shaped by a system that has, for generations, centred male experiences as the default — where anything outside that norm is seen as a disruption.

From that lens, the Supreme Court’s concern is not entirely misplaced. Offices do not run on policy alone. Hiring decisions are shaped by management priorities, by cost-benefit calculations, by what seems “practical” in the moment. And in a system where women are already asked about their marriage plans, their pregnancy plans, and their long-term “availability”, the introduction of a mandated monthly leave can easily become another reason — however unspoken — to sideline them.

So yes, a blanket rule like this could end up doing more harm than good in the current ecosystem.

But then again, time and again, women have borne the brunt of a biological difference they never chose. We’ve seen recruiters ask women about their marriage plans, their pregnancy plans. We’ve seen the hesitation in hiring someone who might, at some point, take maternity leave.

Where do we go from here?

And yet, even within this reality, it is difficult to accept that the answer is to do nothing. I often see judgments like this, and feel the pinch of living in a world that often seems better suited to men.

However, I’m not ready to give up on the idea that there can be a way forward. That there has to be.
Change has never arrived fully formed. The five-day work week did not exist until 1938. At the time, I’m sure arguments about productivity and efficiency were made then too. But things shifted — slowly, but meaningfully.

Perhaps that is what this moment calls for as well: not an outright rejection of the idea, but a more open-minded approach to how it can be implemented.

If a company cannot offer three days of leave, maybe it begins with one. If not a mandate, then at least a framework that acknowledges the need without penalising those it is meant to support. Because what begins with resistance can, over time, turn into acceptance and eventually normalisation.

The fear that women will misuse such a policy and turn it into “just another day off” also feels deeply unfair. There are countless laws that can be misused, yet we do not stop implementing them. But here, the burden of proof seems to fall disproportionately on women — to demonstrate that their pain is real, that their need is valid, that they are still “good” employees despite it.

Why should there be a need to constantly prove that you’re still a “good” employee to want a few days off to deal with something not in your control. Imagine dealing with the excruciating pain and then the pressure of talking about it to employees who wouldn’t understand.

Some argue that existing sick leave should suffice, and in theory, that makes sense. But in practice, menstrual pain is not always treated as “sick enough”. It often comes with an added layer of hesitation — the need to explain, to justify, to make something deeply personal legible in professional spaces that are not always equipped to understand it.

So while it is possible to see why the Supreme Court chose to scrap the PIL, and to understand the implications had it been passed, it still feels like a moment where women’s needs were acknowledged, but not fully acted upon.

Will menstrual leave make employers more hesitant to hire women? Maybe. But if supporting women’s realities is seen as a disadvantage, then the problem is not the policy — it is the system that makes such support feel like a liability.

Because if equality depends on ignoring difference, it was never equality to begin with.