
Indian politicians like to claim that their governance innovations — particularly digital public infrastructure that’s shared between the state and the private sector — are widely admired. They can even point to the occasional testimonial from the leader of another developing nation.
But last week they bagged an unusual prize: UK Prime Minister Keir Starmer declared that India’s digital “unique ID” system, called Aadhaar, was a “massive success,” and that he hoped to learn from it in rolling out Britain’s equivalent.
Starmer was visiting India and met with Aadhaar’s architect, Nandan Nilekani — who is also the non-executive chairman of the IT services giant Infosys Ltd. He hopefully spent some of that time asking how best to avoid political blowback when the program inevitably metastasizes into something much larger than planned.
When Aadhaar was first proposed almost two decades ago, it was meant to be strictly voluntary — an additional, light-weight form of identification for those who struggled to access government services. The UK government has promised something similar: The card will only be mandatory for those about to start a new job to prove that they have a legal right to work.
Also Read: Starmer’s India-inspired digital ID plan tests public trust in the UK
But, of course, some Britons might want to use it for other things. It would be a convenient replacement for more complicated forms of identity verification. As Starmer said: “I don’t know how many times the rest of you have had to look in the bottom drawer for three bills when you want to get your kids into school or apply for this or apply for that — drives me to frustration.”
Judging from India’s experience, however, British bureaucrats will be as willing to expand the use of digital ID. They will wind up redesigning the access to services around the presence of the ID — whether to save money, eliminate fraud, or reduce wait times. First, you’ll need it for your taxes, then for your pension, and then you’ll be encouraged to link it to your National Health Service account.
Every additional step will appear reasonable, defensible, incremental. But it will end up with the ID being effectively mandatory. Today, it’s virtually impossible to get anything done in India without an Aadhaar.
I held out on getting one for the longest possible time. It was only when, in 2018, India’s Supreme Court permitted the income-tax department to require taxpayers to submit their ID numbers that I gave in.
The UK probably has more safeguards against such mission creep than India did. Our judges put the “right to dignity,” which they said universal ID enabled, over a right to privacy, and British judges might well disagree.
But it’s also true, in retrospect, that most of our worries about the Aadhaar were overdone. Indian officials in recent years have faced multiple (unproven) accusations of snooping on their citizens — but none of these allegations involved the use of the digital ID system.
Whether our data is truly secure may not be certain. In 2023, there were reports that over 800 million Aadhaar database entries were on sale in the untamed depths of the internet. We braced ourselves for an epidemic of identity theft, but nothing out of the ordinary happened. While fraud using stolen Aadhaar numbers is indeed an ongoing problem, it’s also a very small subset of the universe of terrifying scams that Indians have to navigate daily.
Meanwhile, the digital ID’s benefits are easy for even skeptics to see. Millions of previously unserved people have been able to enter the formal financial system — take out loans, save in specialized accounts, and receive payments from far away.
Most importantly, many poor Indians no longer struggle to prove their identity to access government-rationed food or cash transfers. The middlemen who used to take a cut of these benefits in return for easier access are now reduced to helping them set up their Aadhaar accounts.
And the private sector has taken to the digital ID system like a duck to water. Bank accounts can be opened in seconds. SIM cards for mobile phones, which once took days to organize in security-conscious India, can now be accessed almost instantly. I am still reluctant to hand out my Aadhaar number, and use alternatives wherever possible. But, truthfully, that behavior is more reflexive than it is considered.
Prime Minister Narendra Modi is quick to sense when his voters are happy. The Aadhaar project was started before he took office, but he quickly adopted it and has run on its benefits ever since. The fact that he regularly trumpets it as an achievement is perhaps the most significant indication of how popular it now is.
Starmer must be a little startled by how loud the opposition to an ID card is in Britain — all but two of the European Union’s 27 countries have something similar. But the chances are that, if he perseveres, the British will get used to it. I certainly have.
The views expressed here are personal and do not reflect the official position of The Economic Times.
But last week they bagged an unusual prize: UK Prime Minister Keir Starmer declared that India’s digital “unique ID” system, called Aadhaar, was a “massive success,” and that he hoped to learn from it in rolling out Britain’s equivalent.
Starmer was visiting India and met with Aadhaar’s architect, Nandan Nilekani — who is also the non-executive chairman of the IT services giant Infosys Ltd. He hopefully spent some of that time asking how best to avoid political blowback when the program inevitably metastasizes into something much larger than planned.
When Aadhaar was first proposed almost two decades ago, it was meant to be strictly voluntary — an additional, light-weight form of identification for those who struggled to access government services. The UK government has promised something similar: The card will only be mandatory for those about to start a new job to prove that they have a legal right to work.
Also Read: Starmer’s India-inspired digital ID plan tests public trust in the UK
But, of course, some Britons might want to use it for other things. It would be a convenient replacement for more complicated forms of identity verification. As Starmer said: “I don’t know how many times the rest of you have had to look in the bottom drawer for three bills when you want to get your kids into school or apply for this or apply for that — drives me to frustration.”
Judging from India’s experience, however, British bureaucrats will be as willing to expand the use of digital ID. They will wind up redesigning the access to services around the presence of the ID — whether to save money, eliminate fraud, or reduce wait times. First, you’ll need it for your taxes, then for your pension, and then you’ll be encouraged to link it to your National Health Service account.
Every additional step will appear reasonable, defensible, incremental. But it will end up with the ID being effectively mandatory. Today, it’s virtually impossible to get anything done in India without an Aadhaar.
I held out on getting one for the longest possible time. It was only when, in 2018, India’s Supreme Court permitted the income-tax department to require taxpayers to submit their ID numbers that I gave in.
The UK probably has more safeguards against such mission creep than India did. Our judges put the “right to dignity,” which they said universal ID enabled, over a right to privacy, and British judges might well disagree.
But it’s also true, in retrospect, that most of our worries about the Aadhaar were overdone. Indian officials in recent years have faced multiple (unproven) accusations of snooping on their citizens — but none of these allegations involved the use of the digital ID system.
Whether our data is truly secure may not be certain. In 2023, there were reports that over 800 million Aadhaar database entries were on sale in the untamed depths of the internet. We braced ourselves for an epidemic of identity theft, but nothing out of the ordinary happened. While fraud using stolen Aadhaar numbers is indeed an ongoing problem, it’s also a very small subset of the universe of terrifying scams that Indians have to navigate daily.
Meanwhile, the digital ID’s benefits are easy for even skeptics to see. Millions of previously unserved people have been able to enter the formal financial system — take out loans, save in specialized accounts, and receive payments from far away.
Most importantly, many poor Indians no longer struggle to prove their identity to access government-rationed food or cash transfers. The middlemen who used to take a cut of these benefits in return for easier access are now reduced to helping them set up their Aadhaar accounts.
And the private sector has taken to the digital ID system like a duck to water. Bank accounts can be opened in seconds. SIM cards for mobile phones, which once took days to organize in security-conscious India, can now be accessed almost instantly. I am still reluctant to hand out my Aadhaar number, and use alternatives wherever possible. But, truthfully, that behavior is more reflexive than it is considered.
Prime Minister Narendra Modi is quick to sense when his voters are happy. The Aadhaar project was started before he took office, but he quickly adopted it and has run on its benefits ever since. The fact that he regularly trumpets it as an achievement is perhaps the most significant indication of how popular it now is.
Starmer must be a little startled by how loud the opposition to an ID card is in Britain — all but two of the European Union’s 27 countries have something similar. But the chances are that, if he perseveres, the British will get used to it. I certainly have.
The views expressed here are personal and do not reflect the official position of The Economic Times.
( Originally published on Oct 17, 2025 )
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