Justice or Prejudice?: Diving into Gender-biased Laws in India

Are the Scales Really at Par?

India, a nation of paradoxes. A land where goddesses are worshipped, yet women have long been oppressed, A society that birthed pioneers of equality but struggles to shed the chains of patriarchy. In this backdrop, laws were crafted—laws that sought to protect the vulnerable, laws that aimed to correct historical wrongs. And yet, as noble as their intent may be, some of these laws have turned into weapons, wielded unfairly and indiscriminately. Mind you, I raise this issue, not with the intent of dismantling the progress we have made as a society, but with a hope of addressing an imbalance that demands our immediate attention.

India’s legal framework, while comprehensive and well-intentioned, has over the time revealed its shortcomings. Among them is the issue of gender-biased laws, which have, in their current form, inadvertently created victims where none were intended. These laws were designed to correct historical injustices, to shield women from oppressive practices of a patriarchal society. Yet, in the pursuit of empowerment and protection, the legal system has, at times, overlooked another critical principle: the presumption of innocence and universalization of victimhood. The cornerstone of any justice system is fairness. It is a principle as old as civilizations itself—impartiality in the face of conflict, protection for the vulnerable, and consequences for those who harm others. However, when the scales of justice tip too far in one direction, when they are bound by assumptions and stereotypes, the result is not equity but prejudice.

When laws favor one gender over the other, they cease to be instruments of justice, they become tools of detriment. Section 498 of IPC, touted as a shield for women against cruelty by their husbands and in-laws, is one such example. Its inception was a landmark—a bold statement that cruelty within marriage would not be tolerated. But over time, this law has been misused, and its misuse has left scars—on men, on families, on justice itself. Under Section 498, arrests can be made without preliminary investigation, an accusation is just enough. In the eyes of law, the accused is often presumed guilty until proven innocent. Families are dragged to police stations, elderly people sometimes are paraded through courts, and innocent lives are left in shambles. Statistics from the National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB) tell a harrowing tale: a significant percentage of cases under 498A end in acquittal. It means that many men and their families endure years of legal battles, social stigma, and financial ruin—all for accusations that don’t hold up in court. And who speaks for these men? Who stands by the elderly mother accused of torturing her daughter-in-law when she can barely walk? Who defends the brother pulled into a case just because he shares the same last name as the accused husband? Society doesn’t see them as victims, it sees them as perpetrators, as monsters. This is not to say that the intent behind the law is flawed, far from it. Women in abusive relationships need robust legal protections, but when a law becomes a tool for personal vendettas rather than justice, it risks undermining the very principles it was designed to uphold.

Consider maintenance laws under Section 125 of Code of Criminal Procedure and the Hindu Marriage Act, these provisions ensure that a woman is not left destitute after separation or divorce. However, in practice, these laws often impose an undue financial burden on men, even in cases where the women is educated, employable, or financially independent. The recent case of Atul Subash has shed light on this provision and its draconian consequences that men and their families face. This one-sided application of the law perpetuates a stereotype—that men are always the providers, the protectors, the strong figures who require no support. Such assumptions ignore the complexities of modern relationships and the evolving socio-economic dynamics where roles are no longer dictated by tradition but by individual circumstances.

Then, there are rape and sexual harassment laws, critical instruments in addressing gender-based violence. The Indian Penal Code defines rape as a crime committed by man against a woman, excluding male and transgender victims from its purview. Sexual harassment laws, similarly, operate under the assumption that women are sole victims and men the sole perpetrators. The members of LGBTQ+ communities face harassment and abuse, often in silence, because the law doesn’t recognise their sufferings. The absence of legal recourse for these victims perpetuates their trauma and leaves a significant gap in our justice system.

False accusations, though not as prevalent as genuine cases, are another reality that cannot be ignored. A false allegation of rape or sexual harassment can irreparably damage a person’s reputation, career, and mental health. While the law provides severe penalties for perpetrators of sexual violence, it is relatively lenient toward those who file baseless complaints. This imbalance disrespects both the genuine victims of such crimes and the innocent individuals wrongfully accused.  This isn’t about men vs women though, or about tearing down the protections that women desperately need. This is about acknowledging the flaws in our system, it’s about recognizing that men, too, can be victims. It’s about ensuring that justice doesn’t wear the mask of bias.

Studies have shown that men can and do suffer abuse in intimate relationships, but their stories are drowned in a sea of disbelief and ridicule. The law doesn’t believe them, and the society doesn’t address them. Men who endure emotional abuse, manipulation, and threats, or face violence at the hands of their wives or partners, are no heard. They have no legal course. They are told to “man up”, “to deal with it.” This binary understanding of abuse and victimhood does a disservice to the complexities of human relationships and the realities of contemporary society.

These insights bring us to a larger question: why are our laws so heavily gendered? Why do they operate on the assumption that one gender is always the victim and the other always the perpetrator? The solution is not to dismantle the protections, women in India face significant challenges, from workplace harassment to domestic violence, and they require laws that address these issues with the urgency they deserve. But alongside this, we must recognize that justice is not a zero-sum game. Protecting one group need not come at the expense of another. We must move toward gender-neutral laws. Laws that acknowledge the possibility of abuse and victimhood, irrespective of gender. Laws that protect all individuals, whether they are men, women, or members of LGBTQ+ community.

Justice is not an abstract ideal. It is a living, breathing principle that must evolve with times. As India progresses, as our social structures and relationships grow more complex, so too must our legal system. Let us not allow laws of yesterday to become the shackles of today. The journey towards equality is long and arduous, but it begins with the acknowledgment of imbalance. It begins with the courage to confront uncomfortable truths. And it begins with the commitment to build a system that serves all its citizens, not just a select few. So, I ask you: can we continue to ignore this imbalance? Can we continue to let justice be swayed by prejudice? Can we look into the eyes of an innocent man, wrongly accused, and tell him that his suffering doesn’t matter? The time for silence has passed, this is a call for action.