What happens when millions of young people are educated for jobs that do not exist?

India has changed dramatically since this question was first raised decades ago. Universities have multiplied, technology has transformed workplaces and the economy has grown at a much faster pace. Yet one old problem refuses to disappear: the anxious job seeker waiting outside an office, refreshing a recruitment portal or preparing for yet another competitive examination.

The queues have moved from employment exchanges to websites and coaching centres. The desperation, however, remains familiar.

A young person may spend years earning degrees, certificates and professional qualifications, only to discover that the labour market has different plans. A degree opens a door, perhaps, but it does not guarantee a chair inside.

The old employment exchange has largely disappeared from public memory. Its modern replacement is the online job portal, recruitment app and government employment platform.

The scale of competition remains astonishing. One government vacancy can attract thousands of applications. Graduate engineers, postgraduates and other highly qualified candidates routinely compete for jobs far below their educational qualifications.

The problem is not simply unemployment. It is underemployment, insecure employment and unsuitable employment.

India's labour market has also become more complicated. The share of workers in regular wage or salaried employment increased to 23.6 per cent in 2025. At the same time, 56.2 per cent of workers remained self-employed.

Self-employment can be empowering when it comes from choice. It becomes very different when it is the last refuge after repeated job rejections.

It is also true that the new economy has created jobs that the job seeker of the 1970s could never have imagined.

A smartphone can now turn a person into a delivery worker, driver, freelancer, online tutor or service provider. The gig economy offers flexibility and a relatively quick entry into the labour market.

But flexibility has two faces. For some, it means freedom. For others, it means uncertain earnings, limited social protection and no guarantee of tomorrow's work.

NITI Aayog estimated that India's gig workforce could grow from 7.7 million workers in 2020-21 to 23.5 million by 2029-30.

The gig economy can absorb some of the pressure. It cannot, by itself, become India's answer to mass employment.

A delivery app cannot replace a manufacturing sector. A freelance assignment cannot substitute for a stable career. And an army of platform workers cannot be presented as proof that everyone has found a good job.

India's education revolution has produced millions of graduates. But the transition from classroom to workplace remains painfully uneven.

The ILO's India Employment Report 2024 highlighted a troubling paradox: educational attainment has risen, yet many young people continue to struggle to secure productive and stable employment. Highly educated youth aspire overwhelmingly to regular, secure jobs, while opportunities do not always match those expectations.

Colleges may teach yesterday's curriculum while employers demand tomorrow's abilities. Students collect marksheets while companies search for communication skills, practical experience, digital competence, problem-solving ability and increasingly, familiarity with artificial intelligence.

The result is an uncomfortable spectacle. India can have millions of graduates and simultaneously complain that industry cannot find suitably skilled workers. Both statements can be true.

The employment debate has acquired a new villain: artificial intelligence. AI can create new occupations, raise productivity and open opportunities in areas ranging from software to healthcare, finance and design. But it can also automate routine tasks that once provided entry-level employment. That matters enormously.

Young workers traditionally entered an industry through junior jobs. They learnt on the job and gradually moved upward. If AI removes too many of those first rungs from the ladder, young people may find themselves standing before a career staircase with no bottom step.

NITI Aayog's roadmap for jobs in the AI economy warns that India faces both risks and opportunities. It argues for large-scale reskilling and a coordinated national approach to preparing workers for AI-driven changes.

The question is no longer whether technology will change jobs. It will. The real question is whether workers will be prepared before the change arrives. The employment story becomes more complicated when gender enters the picture.

Women's labour-force participation has improved considerably, but the gap with men remains substantial. In 2025, the labour-force participation rate for people aged 15 and above was 59.3 per cent. For men it was 79.1 per cent, compared with only 40.0 per cent for women.

Behind these figures lie familiar obstacles: unpaid care work, safety concerns, inadequate childcare, social expectations and limited access to suitable jobs.

A country cannot claim to have fully utilised its demographic dividend while half its population remains underrepresented in the workforce.

The rural problem has not vanished. Agriculture's share of employment has been declining while manufacturing and services have gained importance. Yet creating enough productive jobs outside agriculture remains essential, particularly for rural youth.

The danger is obvious. If farming cannot provide sufficient income and cities cannot provide sufficient decent work, migration becomes the default employment policy.

Young people then travel hundreds of kilometres not because they have chosen a career, but because they have chosen survival.

India now has a large armoury of employment and skilling initiatives. There are programmes for apprenticeships, vocational training, entrepreneurship, rural employment and self-employment.

The problem is no longer the absence of schemes. It is the quality, scale and outcome of those schemes. A training certificate is not a job. A loan is not an enterprise. An internship is not a career. And counting enrolments is not the same as counting people who have moved into stable, productive employment.

Government policy must therefore move from “How many were trained?” to “How many found decent work?” That simple change could transform the employment debate.

Who cares for the job seeker? The job seeker is often treated as a number in a statistical table. He is a graduate. She is a candidate. They are part of the labour force.

But behind every number is a household that has paid school fees, college fees, coaching fees and examination fees. Behind every rejected application is another month of dependence. Behind every delayed recruitment examination is another year of uncertainty.

Unemployment is not merely an economic problem. It is a social and political problem. A young person without work loses income. After a while, he may also lose confidence. Prolonged uncertainty breeds frustration, cynicism and anger. The answer cannot be another slogan about creating jobs.

India needs an employment strategy that connects education, skills, industry, investment and technology. It needs more labour-intensive manufacturing, stronger apprenticeships, better vocational education, easier conditions for small businesses and greater opportunities for women.

Most importantly, it needs jobs that provide dignity, security and a future. The numbers may look better than they did fifty years ago. The economy is vastly larger. Technology has opened extraordinary possibilities.

But the fundamental question remains stubbornly alive: When a young Indian knocks on the door asking for work, who is responsible for opening it?

If the answer is always “the market”, “the government”, “the education system” or “the young person must upskill”, then responsibility belongs to nobody.

And, when responsibility belongs to nobody, the job seeker is left standing outside.