UPSC at 100: A century of dreams, diligence and democracy

Siddharth Roy

(siddharth001.roy@gmail.com)

When the Union Public Service Commission (UPSC) was founded on October 1, 1926, very few could have foreseen that this institution would one day become the gold standard of public recruitment in independent India. It has recently entered its centenary year. The UPSC stands not merely as an examination body but as a symbol — of aspiration, fairness, and faith in meritocracy. For millions of Indians, the four letters U-P-S-C encapsulate an entire journey: of long nights, dog-eared notes, humble beginnings, and audacious dreams.

The roots of UPSC stretch back to the British Raj, when recruitment to the Indian Civil Service (ICS) was designed largely for British candidates. Indians were allowed to compete from 1855, but the exam was held in London, effectively excluding most. Persistent nationalist demands for a fair system led to the Lee Commission Report of 1924, recommending the establishment of a Public Service Commission in India. Thus, in 1926, the Federal Public Service Commission — UPSC’s predecessor — was born.

After Independence, the Constitution of India (Articles 315 to 323) enshrined the UPSC as a constitutional body, guaranteeing its autonomy. Dr B.R. Ambedkar and his contemporaries saw the Commission as a shield against political interference — a necessary safeguard to ensure that India’s administration was staffed not by patronage, but by merit. In a country often accused of bureaucratic opacity, the UPSC has been a remarkable exception. Its reputation for fairness has endured decades of political, social, and technological change. From handwritten scripts of the 1950s to computer-based prelims today, UPSC has continually evolved — yet its commitment to anonymity, impartial evaluation, and procedural integrity remains unshaken.

Every year, lakhs of aspirants fill out forms, knowing their roll number — not their name, caste, or background — will decide their fate. Question papers are printed under high security, answer sheets are coded and barcoded to prevent bias, and evaluation standards are kept uniform. Unlike many other recruitment agencies, UPSC rarely faces credible allegations of corruption. In an age when institutions often struggle to retain credibility, that is no small achievement.

The Civil Services Examination (CSE) — UPSC’s flagship test — is often described as the toughest exam in the world, but perhaps it is better understood as the most transformative. It tests not rote memory but perspective; not just knowledge but judgement. Over the decades, it has produced an array of officers—from district magistrates who manage disasters with calm precision to diplomats who represent India on global platforms to policy thinkers who shape the nation’s developmental trajectory.

Yet, the CSE is more than a gateway to service. It has become a cultural phenomenon, an invisible thread that binds together small towns, big cities, and countless stories of struggle and hope. A farmer’s son from Satara and a professor’s daughter from Delhi compete on equal terms, often studying from the same NCERT books. The UPSC has democratised aspiration in ways few institutions have.

However, in the shadow of this noble pursuit, a worrying ecosystem has emerged, i.e., the commercialisation of preparation. In Delhi’s Karol Bagh, Mukherjee Nagar, and now Old Rajinder Nagar, cramped lanes are lined with coaching centres promising “sure selection”, each with banners of past toppers staring down from the walls. What began as guidance has ballooned into a multi-crore industry.

Course fees in some institutes now rival a year’s tuition at top private universities. Aspirants from modest backgrounds often sell land or borrow heavily to afford them. Even more distressing are the exorbitant room rents in these localities — often Rs 10,000 to Rs 20,000 for a single cramped room with shared facilities. Landlords know their tenants are desperate — students with nowhere else to go, clinging to their dream of joining the IAS or IPS.

What was once a level playing field now feels tilted. The race for “coaching notes”, “test series”, and “mentorship packages” adds to the anxiety of aspirants who cannot afford them. The spirit of equal opportunity, which UPSC has meticulously protected within its examination process, risks being eroded outside of it by a profit-driven coaching market. Although there are free lectures that can be viewed on YouTube, still the handholding, mentorship, and exam-curated notes by the coaching institutions still unbalance the level playing field for aspirants who can’t afford them. There is a pressing need for policy intervention — perhaps affordable hostels, state-run preparatory schools, or scholarships for aspirants from underprivileged backgrounds. If we truly believe that talent should not depend on income, then the UPSC’s fairness must extend beyond the exam hall.

Every year, nearly 10 lakh aspirants apply for the Civil Services Examination. Barely 1,000 make it to the final list. For the rest—the 99.9 per cent—the verdict can feel crushing. Years of study, isolation, and sacrifice collapse into a single word: “Not selected.”

And yet, to call them failures is deeply unfair. The UPSC preparation process is itself an education — in politics, economics, ethics, and resilience. It produces thinkers, entrepreneurs, teachers, journalists, and reformers. Many who never make it to the civil services still go on to serve society in other ways — armed with clarity, discipline, and a deep understanding of India’s challenges. Walk through any office in the public policy sector, a newsroom, or an NGO, and you’ll find former aspirants—people who may not have earned the coveted prefix “IAS” but who carry within them the same sense of purpose. They have learnt to work hard without guaranteed outcomes, to think critically, and to empathise with diverse realities — skills no syllabus can explicitly teach.

UPSC’s history mirrors India’s own transformation. In the 1950s, the exam focused heavily on English and general awareness of Western institutions. Over the decades, it began reflecting India’s pluralism — introducing regional languages, an ethics paper, and a more balanced syllabus. The increasing number of women and candidates from rural and marginalized communities in recent years stands as proof that representation and merit can co-exist.

Today’s UPSC faces new challenges: artificial intelligence, climate change, and rapidly evolving governance models. But perhaps its most enduring challenge is to remain relevant and humane in an age of algorithmic shortcuts and instant gratification. It’s easy to overlook just how much transparency is woven into UPSC’s DNA. From publicly releasing answer keys and cut-off marks to allowing candidates to access their evaluated answer sheets through the RTI Act, UPSC has consistently chosen openness over opacity. It has resisted politicisation and digitised key processes without compromising integrity. Even its failures — occasional errors or delays — are met with corrective action rather than concealment. That quiet culture of accountability may be UPSC’s greatest legacy. It has maintained public faith not through grand declarations, but through decades of procedural discipline. In an era when trust in institutions is fragile, that steadiness and transparency is revolutionary.

UPSC has turned 100, and perhaps it’s time to imagine what the next century should look like. Can technology be harnessed to make exams more inclusive? Can rural aspirants have access to free digital learning resources to counter the coaching monopoly? Can India find ways to support those who dedicate their youth to this pursuit, regardless of outcome? The UPSC’s journey is, in essence, India’s journey — from colonial servitude to democratic empowerment, from exclusion to opportunity. It is not a perfect institution, but it is a rare one: trusted, respected, and feared in equal measure.

Every time a young person opens a book and dares to dream of changing India through public service, the UPSC’s century-long legacy renews itself. That, perhaps, is its truest success, not in the thousands it selects, but in the millions it inspires.