The whole point of democracy, someone once said, is to give people a way to place the system of governance where it can do the least damage. People in government, even the well-meaning among them, cannot easily come to terms with this. They feel offended by words such as 'Orwellian' and 'Huxleyan' being hurled at them by the very people they seek to help.

But hurled, they should be. The government's idea of enrolling teenagers in the Indian Administrative Service (IAS) straight out of school is a bad idea. It reeks of the very worst form of nationalist engineering.

It's not news that the IAS began as an adapted version of a 'steel frame' designed by the British Raj to keep the 'natives' under colonial control. Neither do liberalisers doubt the urgency of administrative reforms. Broadly, the system needs to be downsized, freed of political manipulation, turned transparent, and made accountable.

What the country doesn't need, for sure, is an artificial gene pool of super-administrators. That's what we get if we go ahead with the idea. Grab teenagers, and before they know any better, fill their heads with all these thought processes custom-made by some committee or the other. 'Engineered for quality.' Whirl-click, whirl-crick, whirl-what-son... you can almost see them come off the assembly line, suitably mind-modified to get on with the grand plan.

Sure, it's originally a Platonic idea. Select a set of alpha-borns, put them in an 'academy', deaden their instincts for worldly life, and churn out philosopher-rulers to do all the planning for lesser mortals. Now, Plato was a jolly good fellow; he helped people question existing customs, overcome the fear of their own wall-shadows, make the most of human relationships, and all of that. But this idea of his was awful. Admit it: all through history, closed clubs of people who think alike have done more damage than good.

As it is, IAS recruitment is a mess. Collegians mugging books late into the night to crack the civil services' exam have a rather poor idea of what they're doing. Or why. At this age, their motives are often driven by parental authority, hoary notions of status, marriage-market value and material aspirations. The country's well-being? Oh that... fine, if you insist.

Let's not fool ourselves. Lowering the entry age would worsen the problem. Worse still, such early regimentation would severely limit their exposure to the ordinary world in all its vivid variety, and end up delivering cadre after cadre of prized dullards.

To get an administrative system that would do more good than damage, it would be far better to draw people from fields of life as diverse as possible; and that too, after they have developed the maturity to understand what really needs to be done.

What if the IAS were an open pool? It would shake the system up, for sure. And for the better. A mature entrepreneur, having made his buck and having seen the worst of the system from the outside, would arguably have better ideas on reforms than an inbred officer. Especially so if this midlife recruit could discuss issues with other recruits from academia, farming, cinema, law, banking or whatever. Of course, the same principle would also mean putting them in touch with youngsters-even teenagers-for another whole variety of ideas.

The rest of it could work like any good job. The key performance goals, as agreed under democratic norms, are spelt out. Loyalty is owed to a clear set of principles, not individuals. Failure, as judged under a system seen by all to be fair, would mean losing the job.

Thankfully, digital technology can actually give the public at large a window to see what's going on. For now, what we don't want to see is an administration run by a bunch of brains shrink-wrapped by the system right at adolescence. Do we?