In a recent interview to an Indian national daily, Nobel Laureate Venkatraman Ramakrishnan offered a candid and largely accurate critique of Indian science. He highlighted persistent challenges: Low R&D investment, bureaucratic bottlenecks, policy instability, and poor quality of life in urban India. These are real and serious concerns that have long constrained our scientific potential, and they deserve urgent policy attention.
Where I wish to offer an additional perspective, however, is on the prescription that India must strive to become a magnet for senior foreign scientists, much like Singapore or certain European nations. That aspiration may be admirable in the long run, but at this stage of our national development, our foremost priority must be to strengthen our foundations, reclaim our own talent, and support those who never left.
India today has one of the largest diasporas of scientists and engineers in the world. Thousands of Indian-origin researchers lead globally respected labs across the United States, Europe, and East Asia. Many of them were educated in India’s public institutions, built with taxpayers’ money, and nurtured by committed mentors. Before they left, the country had already made a considerable investment in them. It is not unreasonable to expect that some of this talent, if provided the right opportunities and environment, can return, contribute, and help transform Indian science.
Indeed, we must ask, who will realistically build the scientific future of India? Can we expect researchers from Germany, Japan, or the United States to uproot their lives and move to Indian cities with infrastructure gaps and administrative unpredictability? That is neither practical nor necessary. Only Indians, those born here, trained here, or connected by language and identity, can meaningfully take on this responsibility.
Many of our scientists abroad left not out of disloyalty, but because of limited opportunities, rigid hierarchies, or lack of support for high-risk ideas. But now, with growing uncertainty in global research funding and immigration policies, there is an opportunity. If India can reduce friction and offer dignity, autonomy, and continuity, we may see many of them return.
Encouragingly, the Indian government has recently taken important steps in this direction. Major reforms aimed at improving the ease of doing science have been introduced, including simplified procurement rules for scientific equipment, streamlined grant disbursals, and the creation of unified research portals. These long-overdue measures signal a welcome shift from control to facilitation, and from fragmentation to integration. If implemented sincerely and extended across agencies, they could significantly enhance the day-to-day experience of Indian researchers.
What we now need are structured return pathways: Joint appointments, visiting fellowships, sabbaticals, and startup support with minimal bureaucracy. Schemes like the Ramalingaswami Re-entry Fellowship, which has since been discontinued, must be replaced with better-designed, stable, and transparent programmes. Returning should not feel like a bureaucratic gamble, but a welcome homecoming.
And yet, while we look outward to reclaim our own, we must not overlook those who stayed. Across India’s vast network of universities, colleges, and laboratories, scientists continue to do serious work in often challenging circumstances. They face delayed grants, uncertain policies, and infrastructure gaps, but they persist. Their efforts are rarely celebrated, but they represent the backbone of Indian science. Supporting them is not about meeting global benchmarks. It is about honouring quiet dedication.
Ramakrishnan is right to call attention to India’s R&D spending, which hovers around 0.7 per cent of GDP. That figure must increase. But alongside funding, we need trust, vision, and alignment. Even within resource constraints, India has delivered landmark achievements, from affordable vaccines to space missions, from green energy solutions to digital public infrastructure. These were outcomes of focused, mission-oriented efforts, a template we must scale across disciplines. Likewise, Ramakrishnan’s concern about India’s urban conditions is valid. Scientists, like all citizens, need clean air, safe streets, and reliable services. But building scientific ecosystems cannot be separated from the broader goal of building a better India. Science does not exist in a vacuum, it must rise with the society around it.
At the same time, we must recognise that life abroad is not without its own constraints. Many Indian-origin researchers face visa uncertainties, limited tenure tracks, and systemic ceilings. As United States science budgets come under pressure, this is a rare moment for India to reach out, not with promises of luxury, but with purpose. We must say, we value your experience, we understand your aspirations, and we are building something worth coming back to.
And that brings us to the heart of the matter. Building a scientific culture cannot be outsourced. It must be cultivated at home. While global accolades are valuable, meaningful progress is measured by impact, by clean water in drought-prone regions, by affordable diagnostics for underserved communities, by solutions developed for India’s specific challenges.
Our demographic dividend gives us a limited window. If we spend it chasing prestige, we risk losing more than just global standing. But if we reinvest in our own, those abroad and those within, we will become not just a hub of knowledge, but a model of resilience.
India may not yet be a magnet. But it can be a crucible. And that may be exactly what the world needs next.
The author is the former director, Agharkar Research Institute, Pune, and visiting professor, IIT Bombay. Views are personal
Building a scientific culture cannot be outsourced. It must be cultivated at home. 
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