The experience of judicial adjudication across democracies demonstrates that the tilt of a Supreme Court can often reflect the ideological orientations of those who compose it. In the United States, presidential nominations to the Supreme Court have become increasingly ideological, with presidents seeking to appoint justices likely to uphold their political and social philosophies. Studies have shown that the ideological leaning of nominees is often a reliable predictor of their future judicial conduct (Epstein, Segal, Westerland, & Lindquist, 2007). The confirmation processes themselves have grown contentious, focusing as much on political loyalty and anticipated stances on divisive issues as on legal acumen. The cumulative effect has been a Court whose decisions on matters such as abortion, voting rights, and environmental regulation are routinely analysed through the lens of ideology.
In India, the system of judicial appointments differs, but the impact of ideology, though less visible, cannot be ignored. The Supreme Court, through its collegium system, determines the elevation of judges. Though designed to preserve judicial independence, this system is opaque, often criticised for a lack of transparency, and vulnerable to perceptions of executive influence. Against this backdrop, the recent ruling of the Supreme Court concerning the Mhadei Tiger Reserve in Goa brings the question of ideological influence into sharp relief.
The controversy arose when the Bombay High Court directed the State of Goa to notify the Mhadei Wildlife Sanctuary and adjoining areas as a tiger reserve. The Goa government resisted, arguing that such a declaration would freeze nearly one-fifth of the State’s landmass and jeopardise both developmental projects and the livelihood rights of forest dwellers. When the matter reached the Supreme Court in September 2025, the Bench ordered a status quo, restraining new development in the proposed reserve while referring the issue to the Central Empowered Committee for a comprehensive study. The Court’s approach was cautious. Instead of delivering a decisive verdict favouring either conservation or development, it preserved the existing state of affairs, postponing confrontation between competing imperatives.
The contrast with earlier Supreme Court jurisprudence on Goa’s environment is striking. In 2014, in the celebrated Goa Foundation v. Union of India case, the Court halted all mining operations carried out without fresh leases after 2007 and castigated the State for allowing unchecked environmental degradation. The ruling reinforced doctrines such as intergenerational equity and the public trust, setting a high bar for developmental activities in ecologically sensitive zones. Likewise, in 2019, the Court suspended the clearance for a new airport at Mopa, citing inadequate environmental impact assessments and underscoring the importance of rigorous compliance with statutory safeguards. These earlier decisions exhibited a judicial temperament inclined towards conservation, even at the expense of economic development.
The Mhadei ruling, by contrast, exemplifies a more restrained judicial posture. Rather than positioning itself as the sentinel of Goa’s fragile ecology, the Court appears increasingly conscious of developmental demands. While the decision to maintain a status quo prevents immediate harm, it simultaneously signals a willingness to balance, rather than prioritise, environmental protection. This nuanced shift suggests a broader recalibration of judicial reasoning that aligns with the ruling government’s narrative of infrastructural expansion and common development for all.
The composition of the Bench itself is not without significance. Justice A. S. Chandurkar, recently elevated from the Bombay High Court, was part of the panel. His elevation in May 2025 exemplifies how the collegium system continues to shape the ideological composition of the Supreme Court. The collegium, consisting of the Chief Justice of India and senior judges, exercises near-complete discretion over appointments. Though the executive retains the power to delay or seek reconsideration, its indirect influence is evident. When nominations and elevations occur in a climate of political dominance by a single party, questions arise as to whether judicial temperament may gradually reflect developmental preferences aligned with governmental priorities.
This phenomenon resonates with the American experience, though in different institutional forms. Just as United States presidents have used nominations to influence the trajectory of the Court, so too may the interplay between the Indian collegium and the Union executive result in benches more sympathetic to developmental imperatives. The concern is not one of overt control but of subtle alignment, where judicial caution in matters of environmental protection coincides with political ideologies prioritising growth.
The implications for Goa are profound. The State’s unique ecological wealth, from its coastal dunes to its dense forests, has historically received robust protection from the judiciary. The recent shift towards balancing rather than safeguarding may dilute this legacy. If conservation zones are opened incrementally to development, the long-term sustainability of Goa’s environment could be imperilled. Moreover, once developmental rights are conferred, reversing the damage becomes nearly impossible.
Still, it is crucial to end on a note of balance. The independence of the judiciary remains a cornerstone of India’s constitutional framework. Despite criticisms of opacity and the potential for indirect influence, the collegium system continues to function as a buffer against direct political capture. The Supreme Court’s willingness to halt development temporarily in Mhadei illustrates that judicial oversight persists, even if its edge has softened. In the long run, the test will lie in whether the Court reasserts its earlier role as the uncompromising guardian of Goa’s environment or allows developmental rhetoric to redefine its stance.
The role of the Supreme Court as the sentinel of the environment is indispensable. Yet, when the sentinel becomes the disruptor by tempering its protection in deference to development, the future of Goa’s ecological balance hangs precariously. Judicial independence must remain more than a constitutional ideal; it must be a lived reality in the Court’s reasoning. For Goa, the stakes are existential. The forests, rivers, and coasts that define its identity cannot be endlessly bargained away. The judiciary, above all, must ensure that the march of development does not trample the legacy of conservation it once so boldly upheld.
