Indo – US Trade Deal: Data, Narrative, and Public Discourse

India’s public discourse today is marked by a degree of political and social polarisation unprecedented in recent decades. In such a charged environment, every announcement made by an interested party—particularly when supported by selective data or anecdotal references—demands careful scrutiny. Yet increasingly, information is received not with curiosity or scepticism, but through rigid filters of ideological alignment.

What is most troubling in this moment is not disagreement itself, which is intrinsic to democracy, but the manner in which data and statistics are deployed. Instruments once meant to illuminate complex realities are now routinely used to reinforce pre-existing beliefs. Data, which should function like streetlights—casting light to dispel darkness—has instead become a convenient pole on which narratives are propped up.

This tendency is evidenced in recent developments: the Indo-US Trade deal and the social media post by US President, Donald Trump, referring to the trade deal; the release of the Economic Survey, Union Budget; and the sharply polarised responses to these events. Each episode has generated competing interpretations, often based on selective reading rather than comprehensive understanding.

Trump’s post on his Truth Social platform offers a clear illustration. Within hours of his limited public statement on the Indo – US trade deal and also the Tweet by PM Modi, acknowledging the Indo-US trade deal, opposing camps in India quickly constructed definitive conclusions. Critics of Prime Minister Modi portrayed the Indo-US Trade deal development as a diplomatic capitulation, while supporters claimed it reflected quiet strategic success, arguing that India’s steadfast position had compelled concessions from the United States. The same fragment of information produced contradictory narratives, each presented with absolute certainty.

A similar fate awaited the Union Budget and the Economic Survey, which preceded it. Intended as a diagnostic document outlining the economy’s performance, structural challenges, and medium-term prospects, the Economic Survey was swiftly mined for convenient excerpts. Optimistic growth projections were highlighted by some as conclusive evidence of economic strength; cautionary observations on employment, consumption, and inequality were emphasised by others as proof of systemic failure. In the process, the Survey’s own caveats, assumptions, and analytical limitations were largely ignored.

The Union Budget too was subjected to the same treatment. Within hours of its presentation, it was declared either visionary or disappointing, inclusive or exclusionary. Selective data and numbers—tax provisions, capital expenditure outlays, welfare allocations, fiscal deficit targets—were lifted from their broader context and pressed into the service of rival political narratives. Once again, the same data points were used to arrive at entirely opposite conclusions.

What stands out is that each side claims fidelity to “facts” and “data”. Yet the outcomes could not be more divergent.

This is hardly a new phenomenon. Indian civilisation itself offers a cautionary tale in the Mahabharata. Yudhisthira, known for his unwavering commitment to truth, announces the death of Ashvatthama, adding quietly the word “kunjarah” (the elephant). Dronacharya, hearing only what aligns with his fear, lays down his arms and is killed. The statement was technically true, yet truth itself was distorted through selective emphasis and omission. The episode reminds us that truth can be undermined not only by falsehood, but by partial disclosure.

One illustrative example - during the cold war times - is frequently used to demonstrate how narratives were constructed by the two warring sides, United States and the Soviet Union. In an imaginary international sporting contest, the US announces that it won Gold, pushing the USSR to last place, while the Soviet Union declares that it won silver, relegating US to second-last position. Both claims are technically correct, yet profoundly misleading. What is left unstated was that there were only two teams in the contest.

Such narrative constructions remain deeply embedded in current times in public discourse. Whether it is a Trump post, Economic Survey, or the Union Budget, selective emphasis is used to manufacture certainty and moral clarity where none truly exists. Social media platforms, designed to reward immediacy and emotional engagement, amplify this tendency, encouraging citizens to retreat into ideological echo chambers.

As someone long engaged in science communication, I find this trend deeply concerning. Science instils a fundamental discipline: anecdotal data does not constitute evidence; isolated observations do not establish causation; and interpretation without context is inherently incomplete. Science and rationality warrant that data must be interrogated, its assumptions examined, and its limitations acknowledged before conclusions are drawn.

Public discourse today increasingly departs from these principles. Data is often treated as a verdict rather than a signal, as proof rather than a prompt for further inquiry. Economic indicators are presented as definitive judgments instead of partial snapshots. Nuance is dismissed as equivocation, and uncertainty is portrayed as weakness.

Economic Surveys are diagnostic tools, not report cards. Budgets represent complex trade-offs shaped by fiscal constraints, global conditions, and competing social priorities. Trade negotiations unfold over time and rarely conform to the dramatic narratives of instant victory or defeat that dominate social media. Yet these realities are flattened in the rush to claim validation or assign blame.

The deeper danger lies not in disagreement but in the erosion of public reason. When citizens consume news primarily to confirm their beliefs rather than to challenge them, democratic debate is impoverished. When data is used selectively to legitimise predetermined conclusions, trust in institutions and expertise gradually weakens.

Scientific temper, enshrined in the Constitution of India, must extend well beyond laboratories and classrooms. It must equally apply to how we read economic surveys, interpret budgets, and respond to political claims. Scientific temper requires skepticism without cynicism, openness without gullibility, and a willingness to hold competing possibilities in mind.

Data must serve as a streetlight, illuminating complexity rather than obscuring it. When it is reduced to a pole supporting narratives we already believe, it ceases to serve the public interest.

Democracies rarely erode through sudden collapse. More often, they weaken gradually, as truth becomes fragmented and citizens retreat into separate interpretive worlds, each convinced of its own completeness.

In such times, the most responsible civic act may be the simplest: to pause, read carefully, ask what is missing, and think rationally—before choosing what, and whom, to believe.