The Supreme Court of India has emerged as an unlikely yet indispensable sentinel in the fight against environmental degradation. From halting stubble-burning to relocating factories and banning firecrackers, the Court has filled the institutional void left by systemic failures in pollution control. But as the courtroom takes on the colour of a climate chamber, a pressing constitutional question lingers: Are we witnessing the judiciary acting as the “last resort,” or has it become the “first responder”—bypassing the executive in the process?
A Vacuum of Accountability: The Court Steps In
India’s environmental governance, as it stands in 2025, suffers not from lack of laws but from a crippling enforcement deficit. Nearly 49% of posts across State Pollution Control Boards (SPCBs) and Pollution Control Committees (PCCs) lie vacant, according to official data. In Delhi, the epicentre of air quality crises, 153 out of 344 positions in its PCC remain unfilled. Meanwhile, 27% of the capital’s solid waste remains untreated.
The Court, rightly invoking Article 21—the right to life that encompasses the right to a clean and healthy environment—has issued binding orders to counteract this institutional inertia. In M.C. Mehta v. Union of India, the Court not only championed the relocation of polluting tanneries but also birthed the “polluter pays” principle. In 2017, the blanket firecracker ban during Diwali signalled judicial resolve in prioritising public health over tradition—an unpopular yet scientifically defensible move.
Environmental PILs: Judicial Heroism or Institutional Overcompensation?
Some hail these interventions as the judiciary’s constitutional duty when the executive falters. As Justice Kuldip Singh (famously dubbed “Green Judge of India”) once remarked, “The judiciary has to intervene when the environment is dying a silent death.” Under this view, Public Interest Litigations (PILs) function as corrective instruments, breathing life into statutory provisions that have long gathered dust in bureaucratic filing cabinets.
Yet, even heroes face scrutiny. Critics argue that judicial interventions, particularly under the Graded Response Action Plan (GRAP) in Delhi, have begun to exhibit traits of institutional overreach. Whether in halting construction projects, mandating vehicular bans, or scolding the Delhi Government for not funding the Delhi–Meerut rapid rail corridor, the Court sometimes veers perilously close to micromanagement.
The larger concern lies in whether this activism risks undermining Montesquieu’s doctrine of separation of powers. As seen in the Rameshwar Prasad and Arun Kumar Ahuja cases (relating to dissolution of assemblies), judicial interference in executive or legislative functions has, in past instances, triggered strong doctrinal pushback—even being labeled “judicial aberrations”.
Between the Bench and the Breach: Implementation as the Missing Link
Even when the Supreme Court gets it right, India often gets it wrong in the implementation. A study of environmental PILs found that only 18% of SC orders were fully implemented—a sobering reminder that even the most visionary rulings are powerless without political will and bureaucratic machinery. The Court, compelled to rely on court-appointed committees and amicus curiae, has in many ways become its own enforcement agency—an unsustainable trend.
Vacancies in SPCBs are not mere statistics; they are symptoms of apathy. The Supreme Court’s mandate cannot substitute for a cadre of trained environmental officers, functional pollution labs, or interstate coordination on stubble-burning. The Air (Prevention and Control of Pollution) Act, 1981 and the Environment (Protection) Act, 1986 remain robust on paper—but, as always, the gap lies in the bridge between law and action.
Walking the Constitutional Tightrope
The environmental crisis in India is real, urgent, and often aggravated by administrative delay. The judiciary’s role—as envisioned by the framers of our Constitution—is to safeguard rights, not to draft regulations or manage waste disposal logistics. But when executive institutions abdicate their role, the judiciary’s foray becomes less an act of trespass and more an act of necessity.
Still, necessity must not become habit. As Nehru cautioned, “Democracy is not merely a question of structure, but of spirit.” Courts must resist the temptation to rule by decree. The answer lies not in withdrawing judicial oversight but in bolstering institutional accountability—by filling SPCB vacancies, devolving real authority to pollution boards, and ensuring budgetary commitments are met.
Conclusion: A Constitutional Balance for Environmental Justice
The Supreme Court, in stepping up where others have failed, has forged a powerful environmental jurisprudence that inspires and compels. But it must not be left alone to bear this burden. As climate emergencies become the new normal, it is time for Parliament and State governments to reclaim their constitutional roles with urgency and intent.
After all, in the architecture of governance, the judiciary may be the keystone—but it cannot replace the pillars.
