
In 2023, 92.4% of India's workforce functioned without any formal workplace contract, access to healthcare benefits or any social security. The Indian economy heavily relies on invisible, disposable human labour, which includes in itself a range of workers from delivery persons and housekeeping or public sanitation workers to tailors and Uber or Ola drivers.
However, the legal system often categorises most of them not as “workers,” but rather as “service providers,” “vendors,” or even more disparagingly, “encroachers.” As we commemorate the 134th anniversary of Babasaheb’s birth on April 14, 2025, a disheartening contradiction emerges. The visionary who established the groundwork for modern labour laws in India is honoured in a nation where his labour legacy has been effectively erased from public consciousness.
This article contends that India's recent labour codes and gig economy regulations are not impartial economic reforms but instead represent a caste-based criminalisation of informal labour- a system that Babasaheb strove to abolish. The Constitution’s lack of acknowledgment of this new employment landscape is not a coincidence; it is structural. It is time for us to recognise it.
Before he became the architect of India’s Constitution, Babasaheb was the nation’s first reformer of labour laws. Serving as the Labour Member from 1942 to 1946, he implemented the eight-hour workday, equal pay for women, and compulsory recognition of trade unions. He also introduced state-funded maternity benefits, well ahead of the global standards set by the International Labour Organisation (ILO). However, Babasaheb's brilliance extended beyond mere legislation. He perceived labour protections as tools for dismantling caste. In his address to Bombay textile workers in 1938, he stated:
"The caste system is not solely a division of labour. It is a stratification of labourers... ranked one above another."
For Babasaheb, economic democracy - job security, collective bargaining, and social security - was the ultimate challenge to caste hierarchy. The transition of Dalits from manual scavenging to factory employment and from rural subjugation to urban unions not only transformed the economy, but also disrupted the existing social structure. The labour laws in India established post-1950 were designed to address wage control, workplace safety and the organisation of unions. They were never merely economic instruments, they served as constitutional corrections.
However, what occurs when 92% of the workforce is now left out of these laws, as has resulted from India’s new labour codes and gig economy policies?
For 92.4% of India's informal workforce (Periodic Labour Force Survey, 2023–24), the Labour Codes of 2020 do not ensure inclusion; instead, they promote legally authorised exclusion. These Codes, rather than protecting workers, entrench informality by restricting the legal definitions of “employee” and “establishment,” which ultimately displaces millions from essential regulatory protections and social security.
The State of Working India Report (2023) presents a dire picture:
- Upto 70% of informal workers earn less than ₹15,000/month.
- Women engaged in informal sectors face a staggering 29% wage discrepancy and lack maternity benefits.
- A meagre 5.5% of gig or unorganised sector workers have access to legal assistance. This situation is not merely a legal oversight, it is a deliberate legislative framework.
Each of the four labour codes methodically diminishes protections.
a. The Industrial Relations Code, 2020 raises the threshold for mandatory layoff approvals to 300 workers, permitting mass layoffs without regulation.
b. The Social Security Code, 2020, segregates gig and platform workers, only providing optional benefits concerning contributions, thus effectively ending guaranteed access to pensions, paid sick leaves or healthcare benefits.
c. The Occupational Safety, Health and Working Conditions Code, 2020 excludes small, family-run businesses and unregistered workers, essentially denying legal safeguards to a considerable segment of India’s urban and rural poor employed in this sector. The most concerning fact is that the aforementioned Codes do not recognise gig work as “employment” at all. This exclusion allows companies like Zomato, Uber, Swiggy and Urban Company, to name a few, to maximise productivity while refusing to recognise workers as employees. Consequently, they are deprived of:
- Wage protections and minimum hourly compensation.
- The right to organise or engage in strikes.
- Maternity benefits, accident compensation and health insurance.
And who qualifies as these “non-workers” under the current legal framework?
a. 69% belongs to SC/ST/OBC backgrounds (ActionAid India, 2022]
b. 57% are migrants without local identification, rent or access to rations.
c. 91% do not have access to the Provident Fund, ESI or any retirement privileges.
This situation serves as a typical example of class-based exclusion.
Presently, city municipalities are in the process of employing and implementing digital regulations to supervise the gig economy and the informal sector. However, Dalit and Muslim vendors and hawkers are indiscriminately affected and often face displacement from 'Smart City' initiatives in cities, without appropriate assistance in relocation, leading to flagrant violation of Article 21 of the Constitution.
App-based gig workers face termination or removal from platforms due to opaque algorithmic rating systems, with no opportunity for human oversight or fairness, displaying a clear infringement of natural justice and due process, as enshrined in Articles 14 and 21.
Women engaged in home-based piecework, like trades such as bidi rolling, garment tailoring, packaging and spice grinding, remain overlooked and unprotected by unions, social security programs or legal structures.
Collectively, these developments signify a step backward from Babasaheb’s vision of labour justice. The Indian legal framework, once a perfect example of worker protection, is now evolving into an active participant in redefining labour as non-labour and workers as data points barred from basic constitutional rights.
While India's Constitution is remarkable, it lacks provisions addressing the rights of gig and informal workers. Despite the existence of Articles 23 which prohibits forced labour, 39(e) & (f) which promote humane working conditions, and 43 which advocates for a living wage, courts and tribunals have hesitated to apply these to gig economy workers. In the case of Zomato Delivery Partners’ Union v. Zomato, the Competition Commission of India (CCI) dismissed workers' calls for recognition without providing thorough reasoning.
We need to redefine Babasaheb’s vision for labour as a constitutional principle rather than merely a historical reference. This entails:
a. Revising the Labour Codes to classify gig workers as “deemed employees” entitled to full benefits.
b. Extending Schedule V of the Constitution to encompass gig platforms and delivery services as sectors requiring regulation, invoking state obligations.
c. Establishing a National Gig and Informal Workers Commission, modeled after the National Commission for Safai Karamcharis, with authority to issue binding recommendations.
d. Creating Algorithmic Accountability Guidelines under the IT Act (2000) to evaluate AI-driven task allocations, performance evaluations and terminations.
Just as Babasaheb once leveraged law to challenge the moral authority of the caste system, we must now do the same against the platform economy that perpetuates data-driven discrimination.
On the 134th birth anniversary of Babasaheb, as tributes are paid at statues and on social media, we must question whether Indian workers experience the Republic that Babasaheb envisioned. The reality, when confronted honestly, is disheartening. The contemporary labour framework in India is constitutionally deficient, economically exploitative and socially regressive. It criminalises informal work while simultaneously failing to establish viable avenues for access to secured employment, particularly for Dalits, women and migrants.
Babasaheb cautioned us that "constitutional morality is not an inherent feeling. It must be nurtured." This nurturing now requires profound legislative changes, compassionate legal interpretations and a constitutional rejuvenation of worker dignity as a genuine measure of India’s democracy.
Until then, celebrating Babasaheb without fighting for his labour legacy is not homage, it is hypocrisy.
Ankita Jain and Kinjal Alok are third year undergraduate law students at Maharashtra National Law University, Aurangabad.