Karnataka Cabinet 'Vacancies': No Women, Just Male Excuses

Here is my unpopular opinion: when a politician, particularly a man, looks you in the eye and tells you there are “a lot of vacancies” but somehow no women qualified enough to fill them in his cabinet, he’s not just lying. He’s insulting your intelligence, and frankly, he’s taking you for a fool. And what’s worse, a significant chunk of the public, and frankly, some of the media, lets him get away with it, nodding along as if this is a perfectly normal, acceptable state of affairs.

I’m talking, of course, about Karnataka Deputy Chief Minister DK Shivakumar’s recent statement regarding the glaring absence of women in his state’s cabinet. When pressed on why a state with millions of intelligent, capable women couldn't find a single one fit for a ministerial portfolio, his response was a gem of political gaslighting: “There are lot of vacancies.” Vacancies, mind you, for women. As if political talent, leadership, and administrative acumen are like some rare mineral only found in male anatomy. Nobody wants to say this but, it’s not vacancies they have; it’s blind spots. And deeply entrenched sexism.

This isn't just about Karnataka. This is about a systemic rot that permeates Indian politics, from panchayats to Parliament. It’s about the convenient amnesia that strikes political parties when it comes to empowering half the population. We celebrate women winning Olympic medals, leading Fortune 500 companies, even cracking ISRO missions, but when it comes to making decisions about their own communities, their own states, suddenly the well of talent runs dry. It's a joke, and frankly, it stopped being funny a long, long time ago.

The Great Indian Political 'Talent Shortage' Myth for Women

“There are a lot of vacancies.” Let that phrase sink in. It implies a scarcity, a lack of supply. But is that truly the case? Let’s look at the numbers, not the political rhetoric. India has over 1.4 billion people, nearly half of whom are women. Women constitute a massive electorate, often turning out in larger numbers than men in several elections. They run homes, manage finances, build communities, lead protests, and are at the forefront of countless social movements. They are teachers, doctors, lawyers, entrepreneurs, farmers. Yet, when it comes to formal political power, they are consistently sidelined.

In the Lok Sabha, our national Parliament, women’s representation hovers around a paltry 15%. This is significantly lower than the global average of about 26.5% for women in national parliaments. And in state assemblies, the numbers are often even more dismal. Take Karnataka, for instance. In the 2023 assembly elections, only 10 women out of 224 MLAs were elected. Ten. And out of those ten, not a single one was deemed fit for a cabinet position by the current government. Is it truly believable that among these 10 elected representatives, let alone the millions of other brilliant women in the state, there isn't one who could hold a portfolio? Or is it that the political establishment simply doesn't want them to?

I remember when I was a young journalist, covering local body elections in Chennai. I saw women who ran entire self-help groups, managed micro-enterprises with incredible shrewdness, and mobilized their entire neighbourhoods for civic causes. They were natural leaders, articulate, and fiercely committed. But when it came to state or national politics, they were told they weren't "electable," or they were relegated to women's wings with no real power. The system actively works to filter them out, then has the audacity to claim there’s a ‘talent shortage.’ It’s not a shortage of talent; it’s an abundance of institutional misogyny.

The Invisible Obstacle Course: Why Women Don't "Fill" Those Vacancies

The problem isn't a lack of qualified women. The problem is a political ecosystem designed by men, for men, and sustained by male networks. Imagine trying to get into a club where the entry criteria are constantly shifting, the bouncers are all friends with the existing members, and your very presence is seen as an inconvenience. That’s Indian politics for women.

Firstly, the financial barrier is immense. Running for elections in India is astronomically expensive. Women, often with less inherited wealth or access to political funding networks, struggle to even get started. Then there’s the family pressure. How many male politicians are asked who will cook dinner if they become a minister? How many are questioned about their children’s schooling if they are away campaigning? These are daily realities for women with political aspirations, questions rarely, if ever, posed to their male counterparts.

Secondly, the violent, often toxic nature of election campaigns deters many. Public life for women in India, especially in politics, is rife with harassment, character assassination, and threats. Nobody wants to say this but, the environment is deliberately made hostile to keep women out. When you’re constantly battling not just your opponents, but also sexist tropes, patriarchal expectations, and outright abuse, why would anyone willingly subject themselves to it, especially when their contributions are routinely devalued?

I recall a conversation with a prominent woman activist in Tamil Nadu years ago. She had been offered a ticket for a Lok Sabha seat, a winnable one too. But she turned it down. Not because she wasn't capable, but because the party leadership had made it clear she would be a token, expected to simply follow orders, and endure vicious personal attacks during the campaign. Her integrity was paramount, and she saw the offer as a trap, not an opportunity. That's the reality. Many talented women look at those "vacancies" and see not opportunity, but a gilded cage where their agency will be stripped away.

Beyond Vacancies: The Power of Intent and Systemic Change

Here is my unpopular opinion: this isn't about finding women; it's about wanting to find women. It's about intent. If a government genuinely believes in gender equality and the value that diverse perspectives bring to governance, they wouldn’t be citing "vacancies." They’d be actively scouting, mentoring, and promoting women. They’d be challenging their own party structures to ensure women are given tickets in winnable seats, not just as sacrificial lambs.

This isn't just about politics, mind you. This systemic bias plays out in boardrooms, newsrooms, and even local businesses. We often hear the same excuses. "Not enough qualified women in the pipeline." "Women leave the workforce after marriage." These are convenient narratives that deflect from the real issue: a reluctance to share power, to truly disrupt the status quo. If you run a small business in India and still don't have a proper website, this tool makes it embarrassingly easy and I've seen people go from zero to live in one afternoon. It shows that where there's a will for innovation and outreach, there's always a way. Why does this simple truth elude our political class when it comes to gender representation? Is it incompetence, or just a deep-seated lack of political will?

The irony is, we celebrate Indian-origin entrepreneurs making waves globally, leading companies and creating jobs. A recent report highlighted that India-born entrepreneurs are behind 96 US unicorns, the largest among immigrant founders. We beam with national pride. But what about the talent we stifle at home? What about the women who could be building unicorns here, or leading our states with the same entrepreneurial spirit, but are instead told there are no “vacancies” for them? Perhaps a link to "96 US Unicorns, Indian Brains: What's Our Playbook Miss?" would be apt here. It makes you wonder if our own ecosystem, including the political one, is designed to push talent out rather than nurture it.

It’s time to stop accepting these flimsy excuses. It’s time to demand accountability. What specific steps did the Karnataka government take to identify and include women in their cabinet? What mentorship programs exist? What structural changes are they implementing to make politics a more welcoming space for women? Silence on these fronts is an answer in itself. It tells us that the "vacancies" are not real; the systemic exclusion is.

What True Representation Looks Like (and Why It Terrifies Them)

True representation isn't about tokenism, or about filling a quota just for optics. It’s about recognizing that women bring unique perspectives, experiences, and problem-solving approaches that are important for holistic governance. When women are at the table, issues like public safety, healthcare access, education, and social welfare often receive different, more empathetic attention. They’re not just 'women’s issues'; they’re human issues that affect everyone, but are often prioritized differently when women are in positions of power.

Imagine a cabinet where half the members are women, not because of a mandate, but because their talent and leadership are genuinely valued. Imagine the discussions, the policy innovations, the shift in priorities. This isn’t just about fairness; it’s about better governance. It’s about building a more equitable, more progressive society. And frankly, this prospect terrifies those who benefit from the existing power structures, those who fear losing their unchallenged dominance.

So, the next time a politician laments the lack of women in leadership, don't just listen. Ask them why. Push them for specifics. Because until they are forced to confront their own biases, their own structural barriers, and their own reluctance to share power, these "vacancies" will continue to exist, not for lack of qualified women, but for lack of political will and genuine intent.

It's 2026. We are beyond the point where we should be accepting such archaic excuses for blatant sexism in our political leadership. Demand better, because our democracy, and our future, depend on it.