Last year, the death of a young employee at EY triggered a national debate on workplace culture and corporate welfare. That concern has resurfaced with the Maharashtra Cabinet’s decision to amend labour laws and extend daily working hours for private sector employees. India may be striving to improve its “ease of doing business” rankings, but worker well-being cannot be a collateral casualty of reform.
The new law allows factories to lengthen shifts from nine to 12 hours, with breaks permitted only after six hours instead of five. Shops and establishments employing 20 or more workers may stretch the workday to 10 hours. Overtime ceilings have been raised across categories, and smaller establishments with fewer than 20 workers now require only intimation rather than registration.
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The government’s signal is clear: Maharashtra is open for business. Karnataka, Tamil Nadu, Telangana, Uttar Pradesh, and Tripura have introduced similar measures. Safeguards rest on two promises: double pay for overtime, and written consent from employees before extending hours.
Human capital or disposable resource
Extending working hours is more than a procedural shift; it reflects how the state views its workforce. Globally, the eight-hour day is considered a hard-won labour right. The International Labour Organisation (ILO) sets 48 hours a week, including overtime, as the upper limit. Maharashtra’s rules effectively sanction 10 to 12-hour days—well out of step with international standards, even if “voluntary.”
The real issue is not flexibility but protection. Without strict enforcement, these rules risk normalising overwork in the name of competitiveness.
Weak enforcement, skewed consent
The first gap lies in wages and overtime. Although the law promises double pay, enforcement is thin. In industries where wage slips are poorly documented, workers rarely receive fair compensation. The problem is worse in the unorganised sector, where inspection systems are weak. Without digital wage records, accessible grievance redressal, and proactive monitoring, underpayment will persist.
Consent is the second weak link. In a labour-surplus economy, workers may “agree” to longer hours out of fear of losing jobs. The requirement of written consent assumes a level playing field, but bargaining power is skewed. Refusing overtime can lead to fewer shifts, stalled promotions, or dismissal. For women and contractual workers, the pressure to comply is even greater. Consent can easily slide into coercion unless independent checks exist.
Lessons from global practice
International experience suggests a more nuanced approach. Germany allows temporary extensions during demand spikes but enforces strict weekly limits and mandatory rest days. Japan, facing a crisis of overwork-related deaths, has capped overtime and mandated cooling-off periods. Even in China, public backlash and court rulings have reined in the notorious “996” culture.
India risks moving against the grain. Rather than nurturing its workforce as human capital, it risks treating labour as an expendable cost.
Race among states, or race to the bottom
Maharashtra’s reforms mirror a broader federal trend: states competing to liberalise labour laws to attract investment. Karnataka and Tamil Nadu raised daily limits to meet the needs of electronics and semiconductor firms, citing global supply-chain demands. But there is a fine line between flexibility and exploitation.
Investors are no longer drawn only by cheap labour. They value social stability, low attrition, and sustainable ecosystems. Labour unrest, health costs, and reputational risks can quickly erode the gains of deregulation. In global supply chains, ethical sourcing is now a serious criterion; garment and electronics firms in Maharashtra may find themselves vulnerable if buyers see extended hours as exploitative.
Productivity, not hours
Global data show that beyond a threshold, longer hours reduce efficiency, increase accidents, and harm health. OECD studies reveal that countries with shorter average workweeks—Germany and the Netherlands, for instance—rank among the most productive. India risks chasing quantity of hours instead of quality of work.
Sectoral nuance is also critical. Manufacturing jobs that are physically demanding cannot be equated with desk-based IT roles. Night shifts for women, meanwhile, require safe transport and secure workplaces.
India cannot ignore the pressure of global competition, but deregulation alone is not the answer. As China’s “996” debate shows, workers cannot be stretched endlessly without consequences. The path to sustainable growth lies in building a skilled, motivated, and respected workforce.
Maharashtra is right to argue for flexibility. But flexibility should mean smarter deployment of labour, not longer hours. If reforms balance ease of business with the dignity of labour, India will not only attract capital but also build the foundation for durable growth. Otherwise, the rush to deregulate risks becoming a race to the bottom, with immediate gains outweighed by long-term social and economic costs.