Why Legal Thinking Belongs in Every Classroom

In today’s world, where the neoliberal engine roars ahead turbocharged by cutting-edge technology, democracy and social justice risk becoming dusty relics rather than living ideals. Legal literacy isn’t just a good-to-have anymore—it’s a lifeline.

Our education system holds the power to shape not just skilled professionals, but informed citizens. Yet, how many institutions actually run meaningful legal literacy campaigns? How many strive to nurture a generation that knows its rights, understands justice, and can question power?

Or have we reduced education to a mere assembly line churning out the 'perfect neoliberal human subject'—technically efficient, economically useful, and blissfully unaware of the frameworks that protect or exploit them?

It’s time to ask: Are we educating for democracy, or just for the job market?

Laws often feel like something distant—sealed behind courtroom doors, spoken in a language only lawyers understand, and far removed from our daily lives. But the truth is, laws are not just codes and clauses tucked away in legal textbooks. They are powerful narratives—structures of meaning that shape how we live, relate, love, work, and resist.

Since Independence, India has crafted an array of laws aimed at creating a more just society—from reservation policies to gender-sensitive legislation protecting the rights of women, queer individuals, and the socially marginalised. Over time, many of these laws have been amended to reflect shifting social landscapes and rising demands for justice. And yet, one persistent question remains: How legally aware is our society, really?

When I first introduced elective courses on contemporary legal issues in my department, the response was mixed. Students were puzzled—what did laws have to do with English literature? It wouldn’t be surprising to see similar responses echoing in other science and language departments as well. This disconnect points to a larger issue: our education system lacks what I’d call a legal imagination. Law is often boxed into the domain of specialists, when in fact, it affects all of us—every single day.

If schools miss the opportunity to instil basic legal literacy, then surely colleges must step up. We need regular legal sensitisation programmes—not dry lectures, but engaging explorations that connect laws to students’ lived realities. The idea isn’t to turn every student into a lawyer, but to make law part of the grammar of everyday life.

Let’s stop thinking of law as something mechanical or inaccessible. Laws are stories—crafted in specific political and cultural moments, carrying the weight of social conflicts, aspirations, and compromises. Every law emerges from a certain worldview, and every human subject is, in some sense, a legal subject. Without knowing the rights we have, or the means to claim them, our existence can easily slide into precarity.

This is why we need a humanities turn in how we approach law. We need to read legal texts the way we read literature—not to beautify them, but to unpack their deeper meanings, contradictions, and possibilities. We need to ask: Who does this law serve? Who does it leave out? How can it be reimagined?

Legal awareness isn’t just about knowing which forms to fill. It’s about cultivating critical curiosity. It’s about understanding that the law is not something “out there”—it’s in here, embedded in our relationships, institutions, and everyday choices.

Because ultimately, if people don’t even know how or when to invoke the law, how can we expect justice to be more than a hope?