​Culture Check: The limitations of an Indian background in engineering

Or: Standard procedure, karma, and cost

This is the next article in the culture check series. The previous ones looked at Western and Sino backgrounds. This time, I am focusing on an Indian background.
As before, this about recognising tendencies that can arise from a cultural, philosophical, and economic environments. You might recognise yourself in parts of this – I have a Bangladeshi colleague who describes his home country as an Islamic nation with a Hindu culture. You might recognise colleagues – depending upon where you work. Or you might see none of it at all. The point is awareness so that we can grow as engineers.
And, as with the other articles, I am focusing on potential limitations. Engineers like problems to solve.
There are three aspects I will consider: the perennial caste system, fatalism, and economics.

Caste and the idea of “the right way” and staying in your lane
The caste system, while officially dismantled and certainly less rigid than in centuries past, has had a long and deep influence on Indian society. It organised life around inherited roles. If you were born into a particular group, there were expectations about what you would do for the rest of your life to make an income.
It is wise to note that there were reasons such systems existed. One benefit often overlooked is environmental continuity. If your family and descendants were going to fish the same waters for generations, you had every incentive not to overfish and protect those waters from others. Long-term role continuity can create long-term stewardship – there is a reason this land was able to support so many people. I am not defending the system; I do not care for it, personally, but it did not arise without logic.
But there were not just expectations about what you would do within your caste. There would often be implicit understandings about how it would be done. This would be handed down from one generation to the next because it was established that it would maintain the balance of things. It could also dictate what you should not do – to make it clear which caste you are in.
Often, discussions about the caste systems focus on organisational and social mobility. That is not my focus here. There is plenty written elsewhere about promotion, opportunity, and structural reform. What I am interested in is something more subtle.
When a society has long embedded the idea that roles come with prescribed practices, it can create a strong psychological tendency toward standard procedure.
In engineering, this can show up as a preference for:

• Established standards
• Accepted methods
• Approved processes
• “The way it is done”

Now, standards are not the enemy of engineering. In fact, they are often essential. They encapsulate accumulated knowledge. They protect safety. They provide consistency.
But engineering excellence is not the same as procedural compliance.
If your background encourages the belief that there is a correct, inherited way of doing things, you may be less inclined to reframe a problem. You may ask, “What is the standard process here?” before asking, “Is this the right problem?” That is a subtle but important difference.
Framing is about questioning the boundaries and assumptions. It is about asking whether the standard process even applies in this context. A cultural leaning toward prescribed practice can sometimes make that reframing instinct weaker.
Still, when translated into engineering, the “there is a way” mindset can become a constraint.
Then there is the issue of being a sensual engineer. I have spoken before about the benefits of experiencing the physical aspects of a problem. Touching the thing that is of consideration, listening to it, taking it apart yourself and putting it back together. In the caste system, for many who become engineers, this physically and be an anathema to one’s caste. Thus, the caste system can sometimes limit the experience and perception an engineer will have of an engineering challenge.

Karma, fatalism, and first principles
Another influence often associated with Indian culture is the idea of karma. Whether one believes in it literally or not, when you grow up in an environment where ideas of fate, destiny, and moral causation are frequently discussed, it can subtly shape perspective.
One possible tendency is fatalism.
If something does not work, it may be interpreted as “not meant to be.” If a project fails, there can be a sense that forces beyond control were at play. Even without conscious belief, this ambient perspective can influence how problems are approached.
In engineering, this can weaken first principles thinking.
First principles require you to assume that outcomes are governed by natural laws. If something failed, it failed because of identifiable causes. If something works, it works because of physical relationships. There is no moral dimension. There is no destiny. There is only cause and effect.
A fatalistic undercurrent can reduce the instinct to dig back to fundamentals. It can encourage trial and acceptance rather than analysis and derivation.
Further, it can result in acceptance of how things are – for oneself and others. This is not what engineers are meant to do. They should always be thinking of ways to make thing better for all.
There is, however, another side to this.
Karma can also be interpreted as personal responsibility and perseverance. If you are being tested, you might iterate relentlessly. You might refine and adjust repeatedly to prove worth. In that sense, the same philosophical environment can produce extraordinary persistence.

Developing economy and the power of jugaad
India has developed rapidly, but it remains shaped by decades of operating under resource constraints. From that environment has emerged something widely recognised and even celebrated: jugaad.
As described in Jugaad Innovation by Navi Radjou and his co-authors, jugaad refers to frugal, improvised innovation. It is the art of making things work under severe constraints.
The classic example is the missed call. You ring someone a predetermined number of times and hang up before the call connects. They see the missed call from you with the set number of rings, and they know to meet you at the station. No cost incurred. Communication achieved.
That is ingenuity.
From an engineering perspective, growing up in an environment where cost sensitivity is constant can create a powerful instinct to optimise for affordability. You become highly alert to waste. You find alternative paths. You adapt quickly.
This is an advantage.
However, constant adaptation can also create inconsistency. Engineering systems often rely on repeatability, traceability, and disciplined configuration control. If ad hoc cost-saving improvisation becomes habitual, systemic robustness can suffer.
Systemic thinking requires you to ask not just, “Does this work now?” but, “What are the long-term interactions across the whole system?” Jugaad can sometimes prioritise immediate functionality over systemic integrity.
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What does this mean for you?
If you are from an Indian cultural background, then ask yourself:

• Do I default to standard procedure before reframing the problem?
• Do I ever attribute outcomes to circumstance before returning to first principles?
• Do I optimise for cost at the expense of systemic robustness?
• Do I avoid physical aspects of engineering because they I think they are beneath me?

If you work with Indian engineers, or are moving to India, ask similar questions from the other side:

• Am I misinterpreting procedural preferences as lack of creativity?
• Am I undervaluing frugal innovation because it looks informal?
• Am I failing to recognise when persistence is strength rather than stubbornness?
• Do I need to communicate more the value of trying something new and being prepared to be a bit more physical?

As I have said before, your background is not your destiny. But by noting how it affects you, you can improve yourself further.
That is what makes someone not just a local engineer, but a global one.