My brain, ethanol and the politics of policy: a personal reflection

I read Nitin Gadkari’s now‑viral line—“My brain is worth Rs 200 crore”—and felt an unease that is both personal and civic. The sentence landed not as bravado alone but as a flashpoint in a wider argument about energy, money, trust and how policy is made in my country ‘My brain is worth Rs 200 crore’: Nitin Gadkari amid ethanol row.

I want to lay out what I see, in four overlapping dimensions: economic, technical/environmental, political, and the less tangible problem of public trust.

1) Economy: winners, losers and the shape of incentives

On paper the ethanol push is rational. India imports crude, burns foreign exchange, and has a large agro‑sector that could supply feedstock. Gadkari and the ministry frame ethanol blending as an instrument to reduce oil imports and to create an agro‑industrial market at scale—an understandable national objective (MoRTH coverage: Gadkari outlining mobility and policy directions) Shri Nitin Gadkari Outlines Roadmap for Sustainable, Affordable and Safe Mobility to Achieve Viksit Bharat 2047.

But markets are not neutral: incentives create winners. Social chatter and reporting suggest certain companies—and family links—have benefited handsomely from ethanol policy momentum. That perception fuels the controversy; it turns a technical policy into a moral question. The optics of private gain from public policy demands clearer audit trails than public relations statements can provide (discussions and threads surfaced in news aggregations and social forums) r/TIMESINDIAauto discussion pointing to coverage.

When a minister says his “brain is worth” a figure, it invites us to ask how public decisions translate into private wealth, and whether the distribution of gains aligns with the public good.

2) Technical and environmental reality: data matters

We live in an era where policy must answer to data. Gadkari has insisted that E20 (20% ethanol blend) was tested before approval and that mileage is not affected E20 blended fuel tested before approval; milage not affected: Nitin Gadkari. That is a crucial claim; if true, it addresses immediate consumer concerns.

But technical validation must be transparent, replicable and independent. Questions remain about long‑term engine impacts across millions of vehicle variants, about supply‑chain robustness, and about resource tradeoffs—most notably water and land for feedstock. Critics also point to potential environmental costs of scaling ethanol production (water stress, land use change) and to the possibility that short‑term price effects or mileage changes could disproportionately hurt low‑income vehicle owners.

Policy without open, reproducible technical evidence breeds suspicion—even if the engineering case is solid.

3) Politics: narrative, accountability and the theater of leadership

This episode is not just about fuel chemistry. It is political theatre. In the age of social media, a single quip becomes a clarion call for opponents, and a shield for supporters. Accusations of an organised “propaganda” against E20—framed by some as a pro‑oil‑import lobby—complicate the narrative further Pro oil‑import lobby behind propaganda against E20 fuel, Nitin Gadkari says.

There are three political dynamics in play:

• The government’s interest in signalling self‑reliance and farmer income support;
• Opposition and civil society demands for probity, transparency and independent verification;
• The media and public appetite for scandal when policy and private benefit overlap.

All three are legitimate parts of democratic life. What is missing is a robust public mechanism that translates these competing claims into verifiable fact—fast and publicly.

4) Trust, governance and the soft currency of legitimacy

Ultimately, governance trades in legitimacy. Even a technically sound policy can fracture the social contract if people suspect hidden benefits or opaque processes. The ethanol controversy is therefore a lesson about governance modesty: the higher the strategic stakes of a policy, the greater the obligation for openness.

Transparency is not merely a box to tick. It is the medium through which citizens accept risk: whether of shifting fuel mixes, agricultural transitions, or short‑term economic pain for long‑term gain. Absent that, every policy becomes fodder for cynicism.

A short, personal synthesis

I am neither an engineer nor a petrol‑company executive. I am someone who watches how societies convert technical choices into public outcomes. The ethanol debate contains elements that justify optimism—a move toward domestic energy, potential farmer incomes—and elements that justify caution: environmental tradeoffs, technical uncertainties and, importantly, the too‑familiar taint of private gain from public policy.

If a minister’s “brain” is to be valued, let it be by what the process delivers for citizens: independent validation of technical claims, clear accounting of who benefits and how, and open channels for public scrutiny. That is less glamorous than a headline figure, but it is worth far more in social capital.

The row over E20 is not the last time I will see technology, money and politics collide. What matters is how we structure our institutions to handle that collision—so that innovation serves the many, not just the few.

---

Regards,
Hemen Parekh