Defending the bench while demanding reform

The growing trend of using social media to attack courts, judges and, to some extent, legal professionals through personal abuse, ridicule and targeted humiliation is deeply troubling. Such conduct corrodes public discourse, undermines respect for institutions and risks normalizing intimidation as a form of expression. There is no justification for criminal, obscene or socially degrading speech aimed at individuals discharging constitutional responsibilities. This phenomenon deserves clear condemnation.

Yet condemning toxic expressions alone is not enough. A more uncomfortable but necessary question must also be asked: has the failure to openly and timely address the distortions, inconsistencies and internal weaknesses within the judiciary and the legal profession itself created fertile ground for this outburst of resentment on social media?

For years, concerns about the judiciary have circulated quietly—sometimes in academic circles, sometimes in private conversations among lawyers, journalists and citizens. These concerns range from opaque and non-transparent appointments to questions about intellectual rigor, professional competence, ethical consistency and accountability of some judges and legal actors. There are also deeper anxieties about institutional culture: delays in justice, selective urgency, perceived influence of power and proximity, and an erosion of public confidence in fairness. When such issues are repeatedly brushed aside, minimized  or metaphorically swept under the carpet, frustration does not disappear—it mutates.

Social media, with all its flaws, has become the outlet for that mutation.

It is important to be clear: abuse is not critique. Personal attacks are not reform. Threats and insults do not strengthen democracy. But neither does enforced silence. When legitimate debate about institutional shortcomings is discouraged, delegitimized or branded as contempt, the space for reasoned criticism shrinks. What rushes in to fill that vacuum is often anger—raw, unstructured, and destructive.

This is not unique to the judiciary, nor to Nepal. Across democracies, institutions that resist introspection tend to lose moral authority. Respect cannot be demanded indefinitely; it must be renewed through performance, integrity and openness to scrutiny. The judiciary, precisely because it wields immense power over liberty, property and rights, must be held to the highest standards—not only by law, but by public expectation.

A mature democracy distinguishes between malicious attacks and principled criticism. It protects judges from intimidation while allowing citizens to question systems, decisions and processes. It understands that reverence without accountability breeds stagnation, while criticism without responsibility breeds chaos. The challenge lies in holding both truths at once.

Continuous review, honest self-critique and institutional reform are not threats to judicial independence; they are its foundations. A judiciary that welcomes evaluation—of appointment procedures, training standards, ethical enforcement and transparency—signals confidence, not weakness. Conversely, one that appears defensive or closed risks alienating the very public whose trust it requires to function.

Legal professionals, too, must look inward. The bar is not merely a defender of the bench; it is a bridge between law and society. When lawyers dismiss public concerns outright or circle wagons without addressing substance, they inadvertently deepen the credibility gap. Reform is not betrayal; it is responsibility.

Social media excesses must be checked through law, norms and collective ethics. But reform cannot begin with censorship alone. It must begin with acknowledgement: that there are unresolved issues within the justice system, that some criticisms—when stripped of their abusive packaging—point to real grievances, and that postponing reform only amplifies discontent.

A capable, dignified and trustworthy judiciary does not emerge from denial. It takes shape through constant reflection, principled criticism, and a willingness to correct course. If we truly seek to restore respect for the courts, the answer lies not in silencing voices, but in strengthening institutions—so that criticism becomes measured, trust becomes earned and justice becomes visibly, consistently fair.

Only through sustained review, reform and openness can an ignored ideal be transformed into a living, credible justice system—one that commands respect not by fear or distance, but by integrity and performance.