In 2011, the census recorded only 2.21 per cent of India’s population—around 2.68 million individuals—as persons with disabilities. However, the figure is widely disputed. According to the World Health Organisation (WHO), at least 16 per cent of the global population lives with some form of disability. Therefore, in India, this would mean over 200 million persons with disabilities—more than seven times the official count.
Even more troubling is the gender gap. According to the United Nations, disability prevalence is higher among women (19 per cent) than men (12 per cent), with women comprising up to three-quarters of persons with disabilities in low and middle-income countries. Yet, the census 2011 highlighted only 11.8 million women with disabilities, compared to 15 million men. Women with disabilities are thus rendered doubly invisible, absent from both policy design and the data that underpins it.
This undercounting is not a technical glitch but a political failure. When people are statistically invisible, they become politically insignificant. Persons with disabilities are not seen as a large enough constituency to warrant attention, either as a group making electoral claims or as a vote bank worth courting. This invisibility carries over into how budgets are framed.
Take the Union Budget 2025, for example, where the budget for disability was a mere 0.025 per cent—a glaring oversight. Part of the challenge is that disability is a horizontal identity—cutting across caste, religion, gender, and class—in many ways, it is a class apart. Most social identities are vertical (inherited), placing individuals within ready-made communities that enable collective mobilisation. Disability, by contrast, is rarely passed down. People acquire it individually, often later in life, and outside any lineage of shared belonging. This atomisation fractures the political voice. That’s why the census is critical—not just for counting, but for connecting.
Better enumeration can turn fragmentation into constituencies, prompting parties to form disability cells and strengthening demands for legislative reservations for persons with disabilities.
India’s aim: One step at a time
Why does the State not see “us”? For one, only eight categories of disability were covered in the 2011 census, failing to reflect the full spectrum. The questions themselves were reductive—such as asking whether a person was mentally or physically disabled, with a simple yes/no option. This framing, coupled with social stigma and pejorative terminology, led to low disclosure. Enumerators received minimal training on disability awareness or gender sensitivity, which further contributed to underreporting. In the absence of this awareness, invisible disabilities became even more invisible.
Since 2011, the State has taken some progressive steps—most notably the Rights of Persons with Disabilities Act, 2016, which significantly expanded the legal definition of disability. But legislation is only the first step. Empowerment must move beyond welfarism to full citizenship. For the promise of ‘Nothing About Us Without Us’ to materialise, we must first be seen. That means ensuring India’s 200 million persons with disabilities have a voice and representation in Parliament, access to a budget that reflects their needs and numbers, incentives for R&D in disability aids, and a market that sees value in building for inclusion.
So, what can the state do to prepare the 3 million enumerators for Census 2027? It can start by asking better questions. The Washington Group on Disability Statistics (WG), under the UN Statistical Commission, offers a functional approach through a six-question set most suited for national censuses. These questions ask about difficulties in seeing, hearing, walking, self-care, cognition, and communication using a graded response scale that captures the spectrum of disability experience. For example: “Do you have difficulty seeing, even if wearing glasses?” with response options ranging from “no difficulty” to “cannot do at all.”
While the WG framework is not exhaustive (it excludes psychosocial disabilities and children under five years of age), it is a significant improvement over India’s current approach. Enumerators must also be trained in identifying a wide range of disabilities, including the non-apparent ones, and in conducting interviews respectfully and sensitively—especially with women in rural areas, where gender-related stigma often leads to severe underreporting.
Public awareness is equally important. The Census process must be made accessible through Indian Sign Language, Braille, and screen reader-friendly materials. Trained interpreters should be made available. And most importantly, people must be encouraged to self-identify without fear or shame. Disability must be recognised not only in its visible forms but in its full diversity.
The 1991 Census ignored us, the 2011 Census undercounted us. Fingers crossed, 2027 does not ghost us.
Nipun Malhotra is Founder, Nipman Foundation & Director, The Quantum Hub. Harshita Kumari is Analyst, The Quantum Hub.
