Sailing Along Or Standing Apart – The Realpolitik Of Collegiality And Conformism

Some truths are not declared – they are simply held, quietly, with dignity.

QUIET INTERROGATIONS - Series

Where silence asks the harder questions.

This reflection was born from a moment of quiet discomfort. It was a small act—rising in silence after a court reference—the right gesture, I believed, of quiet respect before returning to one's chamber or ending the day. Yet it appeared strangely out of step with what others around me chose to do—remaining seated in court attire to converse. I found myself unsure—not about what I did, but about whether I had missed something. I reached out to a few senior colleagues; their replies were kind and reassuring. Still, what lingered was not confusion, but a deeper question: in institutions built on hierarchy and tradition, where accommodation is often rewarded, what becomes of those who quietly stand apart? This reflection began there—in that small space between silent action and silent uncertainty.

In every institution, there comes a moment when the individual must choose: to sail along or stand apart. Collegiality is often cited as the bedrock of institutional harmony—and rightly so. But it can quietly morph into conformism too. What begins as simple courtesy or group comfort ends up feeling like silent approval of things we're not fully okay with.

This isn't something unique to judicial life; it happens across the board, wherever hierarchy, tradition, and reputation are at play. The realpolitik of such spaces teaches us that adapting is safer than standing out. But beneath this practical wisdom, there's a quiet question that keeps knocking: are we losing the courage to think or act differently, just to keep the peace?

For women, the experience often comes with added layers—the need to belong, and the constant awareness of how gestures are read. Being quiet is sometimes read as stiffness, and silence mistaken for dissent. But maybe what's really going on is that institutions themselves are uncomfortable with people who don't fit the unspoken mould.

The inquiry is not whether one must rebel. The real question is quieter: Can institutional dignity thrive where quiet dissonance is mistaken for disloyalty?

Behavioral ethics, sociology, psychology may have long studied this. But for those living it daily, the question is immediate and personal. Do we mistake conformity for collegiality, and endorsement for maturity? And most worryingly—in seeking ease within the fold, do we build institutional immunity not against wrongdoing, but against moral clarity, i.e., the quiet light of discernment itself?

Sailing along is easy. Standing apart, even quietly, is not arrogance. Sometimes, it is integrity—judicial integrity—in its most solitary form: an invocation of the right to privacy — the quiet freedom to think, to differ, to dissent without fear or spectacle. In a world that rewards accommodation, it is the slow insistence on moral clarity. As the Supreme Court reminded us in Puttaswamy (2017), privacy is not merely the freedom to retreat, but the autonomy to discern — “the constitutional core of human dignity.”

Author is Judge, Madras High Court. Views are personal.