The world of civil services, in my experience, is a peculiar one, often misunderstood, trapped within the narrow corridors of perception, where reality rarely pierces through. I am reminded of a time, many years ago, in 1989, when I was a probationer at the LBSNAA Academy, Mussoorie and heard a joke that has since lingered in my mind like an uncomfortable truth. A man walks into a bookstore and asks the shopkeeper for a book on good governance in public services. The shopkeeper, without batting an eyelid, points him to the fiction section.
That joke, in all its biting humour, encapsulated the essence of what people thought of us, then. Yet, the joke now feels dated, a relic of another time. Civil services have changed in ways that most outside the system don’t fully see. The service delivery is far more efficient; many innovations have happened; and technology is on the ascendant leading to enhanced citizen experience. Nonetheless, the outside world clings to its old perceptions, unwilling to see the change that has slowly seeped in. It’s a curious thing, the human mind, how it holds on to old narratives, even as the ground beneath shifts. Just the way we hear about difficulty in changing mindsets, a similar position prevails about perceptions: these get crystallised and ossified.
As I reflect on my own experience in Andhra Pradesh — of heading the AP Postal Circle — during the Covid-19 period, I recall how I had tried to change these perceptions and also augur meaningful change. I had spent years watching, observing, and coming to terms with a simple truth: instructions alone don’t change much. Directions, however well-intentioned, only last as long as the immediate moment. In other words, these have a limited “shelf life”. Once the dust settles, oftentimes, people slip back into their old ways like the “elastic” principle. There’s an inertia that sets in, pulling everyone back into the usual rhythms. Besides, directions often lead to “reactance”.
At AP Circle, I realised that the solution did not lie in more instructions, more directives, or more orders. It was something subtler, something that didn’t feel like change but worked deep within people, shifting them without them realizing it. Richard Thaler’s “nudge” theory offered an answer. People, I had learnt, don’t often change at a deeper level because they are told to; they change because the world around them shifts, because they feel, ever so gently, that they must move along with it. And, it is here that we can present them with indirect cues, and with a change in environment that influences their “choice architecture” so that their decision-making eventuates in a favourable way.
During the Covid-19 era, as Head of the Andhra Pradesh Postal Circle, office was like a laboratory and I often engaged in experimentation in my own way. The pandemic was a time of uncertainty and presented challenges; be that as it may, in a strange way, it was a time of opportunity, also. I abandoned the traditional approach of commands and sought instead to offer my staff “nudges”, gentle pushes that would set them in motion without them realising it. It was not a plan born of great theory but rather a series of observations over time; in conjunction, with Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s mantra of Sabka Prayas, I reached out to all my staff in the circle.
I began with a simple idea, something that didn’t demand immediate action but invited it nonetheless: Make AP Circle Great (in Telugu, AP Circle Ni Goppaga Nilabedadam). It was not an order, but a suggestion, an open-ended rallying cry that allowed everyone, from the highest officer to the most junior worker, to interpret it in their own way. It was a moral imperative disguised as a casual phrase, and it caught on. I saw it in meetings, in casual conversations, how this simple nudge became part of the collective consciousness. It levelled the playing field, gave everyone a sense of purpose and action without imposing it upon them.
Language, too, became a tool in this subtle engagement. I started learning Telugu and though I never mastered it, I learnt a bit to reach out to my fellow workers, especially those who worked in the rural areas — the Gramin Dak Sevaks. I recorded video messages in Telugu, not as an act of fluency but as a gesture, a nudge toward connection. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked. I spoke directly to them, praised their work, and nudged them toward promoting financial services in their communities. There is something about speaking to people in their own language that transcends the words themselves. The message was received, not just in content but in spirit. For the first time, the Head of Circle had addressed them in this way, and they responded. WhatsApp groups were formed with local communities, information was shared, and slowly, a new momentum built in the remote corners of Andhra Pradesh leading to more financial services in rural areas.
As the 75th year of Independence approached, I saw another opportunity for a nudge in the backdrop of Azadi Ka Amrit Mahotsav (AKAM) celebrations. On this occasion, I raised a different kind of question. Instead of setting targets, I asked the staff to reflect and act upon: What contribution can I make to AP Circle in this momentous year? It was a question that stirred something deeper. Targets are sometimes perceived as cold, mechanical things, but contributions — these are personal, rooted in a sense of self. And, when people start to see their work as a contribution, rather than a task, something shifts. And, indeed, this changed the perception of staff leading to all round contribution for the circle.
In our circle office in Vijayawada, I employed nudges to tap into hidden talents of the staff — these talents reside in every person, talents that lie dormant, waiting for the right moment to emerge. I set up think-tanks with a difference — not permanent entities, but rolling teams that allowed different people to step forward, to offer ideas and put these into practice. There was no hierarchy here, no sense of permanence. Everyone had merit, everyone had something to offer. It was an experiment in a realm where rigidity often rules, but it worked. Ideas flowed, new ways of working emerged generating a different kind of energy in the circle office with staff coming up with novel ideas and practices.
As Head of Circle, I interacted directly with the clerical staff in the 33 divisional offices, something that had not happened before. It was a simple idea, but it carried weight. I spoke to them about managing office work, about planning, about doing things differently. At the end of the meeting, some of them expressed gratitude for something as small as being acknowledged. This simple nudge led to much enthusiasm amongst the staff and raised their spirits for better planning in day-to-day work.
There were other nudges — things that seemed too simple but, in their own way, carried weight. A Priority Board, placed at the entrance of our circle office, where everyone would see it; it listed tasks, timelines, and the branches responsible. The nudge was different — it was a public nudge, a constant reminder that work needed to be done and the performance of the staff was in the public eye. The results were very encouraging: teams worked together, commitments were met, and the air in the office shifted, ever so slightly.
On International Women’s Day, I held a meeting with our women staff — a first in the circle. To begin with, I asked them to share their experiences, especially those that shaped their thinking and action. Being the first such occasion, it was a moment of connection, of seeing each other as more than just postal workers. Next, I nudged them to strive for empowerment of women through financial inclusion in their local areas. I also urged them to endeavour for financial security of the girl child through Sukanya Samriddhi Yojana. Their consequent efforts yielded very fine outcomes.
Similar interactions happened with other segments of staff, such as postmen, postmasters, inspectors, and also those outside the department, such as savings agents, anganwadi and ASHA workers, school principals, to name a few. All were treated as equal partners in this enterprise. The nudges indeed were a great leveller and aided in propping up, so to say, a mental construct which unified the whole circle through Sabka Prayas with enthusiasm and commitment.
All in all, these nudges created a current. Instead of direct commands, what really worked can be stated like this — gentle pushes, indirect cues, a change in environment, directly reaching out to the staff and presenting them with information in a different, palatable way. The AP Postal Circle, one of the largest in the country, became something more than a conglomeration of offices and workers. It became a unified body, each person contributing in their own way. And as I reflect on it, I now realise that it wasn’t the grand gestures that made the difference; it was the subtle ones, the small shifts that, over time, transformed the whole.
Change, I have learnt, doesn’t come with fanfare. It often comes quietly, in the small moments, in the things people hardly notice. Yet, when it takes root, it grows into something much larger than the sum of its parts. And that, I think, is the lesson of applying ideas such as “nudge” theory to our staff in Andhra Pradesh Postal Circle.