Appointment of Fourth Class Employees: Unending Feudalism

By Devendra Kumar Budakoti
During the British colonial period, feudal systems were actively encouraged to collect revenue from individuals and villages through landlords known as zamindars or choudharys, depending on the region. These landlords maintained large households staffed by servants and aides for domestic and official duties. Similarly, British civil servants, Indian officials, and military officers relied on a retinue of helpers. Post-independence, these roles evolved into what we now call Fourth Class Employees — peons, chaprasis, drivers, and other support staff.
Independent India retained this system in government offices and Public Sector Undertakings (PSUs). Even the private sector adopted it, though under different titles — “office boys” or “housekeeping staff,” often hired through outsourcing agencies. Despite the modernization of infrastructure — with pantry systems and automation — the mindset hasn’t changed: many workplaces still depend on individuals to serve tea, move files, or perform basic tasks, echoing a feudal culture of servitude.
This feudal attitude extends into Indian middle-class homes. Domestic chores are often outsourced to part-time maids or full-time servants. If the help is unavailable, complaints like “Mujhe naukar bana diya hai” (I’ve been made a servant) are common. Ironically, the same individuals, when living abroad, do these tasks themselves without complaint — simply because labor is expensive and charged by the hour. Some families even fly in relatives to help with childcare — another form of unpaid domestic support.
Sanjay Tiwari, an Advisor with the Government of British Columbia (Canada), observes that India’s bureaucratic culture is still shaped by colonial-era hierarchies. In his words, the roles of peons and drivers were as much about status as about functionality. In contrast, Canada’s public service developed with a focus on operational needs, merit-based systems, and unionization. There, roles like clerks and maintenance workers exist but are clearly defined and respected as part of a professional hierarchy — not personal servitude. India, he argues, retained stronger feudal residues, where personal attendants reinforce status and subordination.
This feudal mindset became evident again when senior officials in India expressed dissatisfaction after being denied individual cabins during the shift to the new Central Vista offices in New Delhi. What does that say about our collective attitude toward status and entitlement?
Labour remains cheap in India, and the culture of domestic help continues. I recall a grandmother asking her grandson to sweep the lawn. He replied, “That’s why I’m doing engineering — so I don’t have to do this.” This anecdote, though small, reflects a deep-rooted disdain for manual work — a direct legacy of our hierarchical mindset.
Paradoxically, while such tasks are shunned at home, government jobs — even Fourth Class ones — are in high demand. Candidates with Master’s degrees and even Ph.D.s line up for these positions because they offer salary, perks, social status, and job security. Sadly, even after decades of economic reform, the private sector hasn’t been able to offer the same level of security, further reinforcing the lure of sarkari naukri.
However, change is on the horizon. With more government services being outsourced, and with technology and AI streamlining workflows, the need for human intermediaries is gradually reducing. As officers now arrive in personal vehicles, and file movements become digital, perhaps we are witnessing the slow decline of feudal practices in both thought and structure.
But whether technological progress can fully dismantle the deep-seated mental feudalism — that remains the real question.