‘Seen’,‘Respected’ and ‘Empowered’: Exploring the Dignity Dividend of a Universal Basic Income

Abstract

Individuals experiencing poverty face dual indignity: material deprivation and engagement with stigmatizing social policy. Universal Basic Income (UBI) is often pitched as a dignifying alternative to both challenges. This article presents a 2-year ethnographic investigation within a UBI pilot in South Indian urban slums. I explore the dignifying potential of ‘UBI way’—unconditionality, universality, individualization, regularity—of delivering cash. Participants report enhanced recognition, strengthened social relations and increased agency through the intervention’s design features. Importantly, the narratives accompanying the delivery of a UBI were key to these experiences of dignity. This study also presents a novel conceptual framework to operationalize dignity, based on recognition, relationality and autonomy, aiming to make dignity a ‘useful’ concept in development policy and practice.

I. Introduction

Dignity stands ubiquitous, as a goal and a moral foundation, in law, policy and political discourse. Countless constitutional guarantees, international agreements and policy and development discourse centre on the protection and provision of dignity (Matteucci and Repetto, 2021); and the creation of social security systems that ‘respect the dignity of claimants’ (Lister, 1990, p. 72).

Those living in poverty are mired in a multi-pronged and compounding web of indignity. Apart from living in material deprivation and being unable to meet basic needs, they face stigma when accessing social security and get labelled as ‘burdens’ on the state and society (Roelen, 2020; Whelan, 2021). There is now a wide range of literature documenting the shame embedded within the design and delivery of traditional policy (Gubrium and Pellissery, 2016; Patrick and Simpson, 2020). These policies operate from places of mistrust— limiting who can access policies and determining what they can do with them (Hamilton, 2020; Torry, 2024). Apart from failing in its dignifying mission, this also leads to people disengaging from the systems (Wright et al., 2014). Further, public narratives around poverty and social assistance are governed by neoliberal frames of individual successes and failures, therefore the ‘(un)deservingness’ of certain groups (and thus, not others) (Ulriksen et al., 2016). Those who do receive this support are then stigmatized for being lazy, unworthy and ‘scrounging’ off the hard work of others. Thus, the options for the poor are either to live lives of ignominy and deprivation or engage with systems designed to minimize claims by making them opaque, bureaucratic, paternalistic and/or stigmatizing (Garthwaite, 2011).

Scholars and advocates have long argued that a potential solution to this multifaceted challenge is a universal basic income (Standing, 2017). UBI, defined as an unconditional cash payment made regularly to all people in a political community (Bidadanure, 2019), is argued to have the potential to allow people to meet their needs, participate in society and be free from the intrusive and stigmatizing nature of mainstream social policy (De Wispelaere and Laitinen, 2021; Mack, 2006). On the other hand, unconditionality and universality are also controversial political values (Rincon, 2023). In some studies of unconditional transfers, recipients themselves state preferences for getting benefits in ‘exchange for work’ (Fouksman, 2020).

This article aims to explore this exact puzzle. Crucially, it aims to study if, beyond just the dignity emerging from poverty reduction, the ‘UBI way’ of delivering cash (individually, unconditionally, universally and regularly delivered) is particularly dignifying (Roelen, 2020). In the intersecting indignity experienced in poverty and mainstream policy and development practice, what can a UBI do to participant experiences of (in)dignity? Based on 2 years of ethnographic fieldwork in urban slums in South India, I explore participants’ conceptualizations and experiences of (in)dignity in receiving an unconditional basic income alongside relational community organizing support.

I find that unconditionality, universality, individual payments and cash-based support individually and synergistically provide participants an enhanced sense of recognition, solidarity and control to navigate multiple indignities in their lives. Two additional explanatory factors emerge. One, alongside the intervention, it was the accompanying frames and narratives that were instrumental in boosting dignity. Second, the conceptualizations of what constitutes dignity were varied, but tied together by emotions of feeling seen, feeling connected and feeling in control over their lives, even if that manifests in different ways for different people.

II. Poverty and Policy: A Vicious Cycle of Indignity

As a concept, dignity is often ‘inherently’ or notionally understood. That is, it is rarely specifically defined, but identified clearly when denied (Thomas and Lucas, 2019). In a Kantian sense, dignity is understood as ‘the fundamental moral worth or status supposedly belonging to all persons equally’ (Debes, 2017, p. 1). Dignity is also understood by its absence, most notably through experiences of humiliation, shame, stigma and being devalued (Chaskalon, 2002; Devine et al., 2008; Margalit, 1998). While a full review of the conceptual debates of dignity is outside the scope of this article, I operationally use Jütten’s (2017) understanding of dignity as a combination of how one views themselves, and how they view others to view them.

Current visions of dignity are potent, ubiquitous and a crucial component of international development and policy discourse. And yet, Mattson and Clark (2011, p. 305) claim that the ‘concept of human dignity is in such disarray that it does not provide even a minimally stable frame for global discourse and action’. Conceptualizations of dignity remain either abstract and ephemeral (Marks, 2019), contradictory and imprecise (Macklin, 2003; Pinker, 2008) or unusable in a critical discussion of policy design or evaluation (Harrison, 2024).

In this article, I build a framework to operationalize dignity using experiences and cognitions that are a key part of most conceptualizations of dignity. Namely recognition, relationality and autonomy (e.g., Brennan and Lo, 2007; Laaser and Bolton, 2022; Zylberman, 2018).

Rather than sidestepping or euphemizing the concept of dignity, this framework aims to make dignity useful. For this framework, I take the concepts of recognition, relationality and autonomy and how they are denied in both the experiences of poverty and mainstream forms of social policy.

Recognition: Invisibilization and Dehumanization

Recognition or the feeling of being seen and considered worthy of value and respect, forms the bedrock of experiences of dignity (Honneth, 1995; Mattias, 2019). The starting point for being considered a ‘holder’ of value or dignity is for one to be recognized, worthy of being concerned for and seen as holding specific value for who one is (De Wispelaere and Laitinen, 2021; Honneth, 1995). This recognition is a socially validated experience, felt in everyday interactions of feeling seen, heard and as part of a wider whole of society (Jütten, 2017). Honneth (2014) argues that social recognition is central to one’s sense of self, self-development and ability to make social relations in society. Its contrast, then, can be seen in experiences of invisibilization and dehumanization, both of which are central products of poverty, but unfortunately also of mainstream development and policy practice.

Hatton (2017, p. 2) defines invisibilization as being ‘physically out of sight, socially marginalized, economically and/or culturally devalued, legally unprotected and unregulated or some combination thereof’. The poor and their lives represent unpleasant societal realities that need to be ‘hidden’ (Mahalingam et al., 2019). Poverty confines people to informal slums and ‘dirty’ jobs like waste work, further invisibilizing them from the state, society and markets (Mitra, 2010). So-called ‘low caste’ groups in India have been considered ‘impure’, and thus been hidden and segregated, with some historical accounts recording how they had to announce their arrival in public spaces so ‘upper’ castes could avoid sight and contact. This social hygiene has translated into physical hygiene, owing to their modern-day professions’ contact with physical waste. This allows societies to ‘look away’ from the needs of poor, low-caste groups, further invisibilizing them (Ramanathan, 2006). For instance, for many major international events in an Indian city, large boards are placed to literally ‘hide’ slum communities and areas where the poor live and work (Howale, 2023). Equally, the yearning for recognition is hampered not just by invisibilization, but misrecognition, that is, pejorative labelling and stereotyping (Roelen, 2020). The poor are shamed and humiliated not just by being forgotten/ignored, but by being actively stigmatized for ‘failing’ at life and being a burden on others (Walker et al., 2013).

However, mainstream social policy also fails in this mission of providing recognition and dignity to all. They neither reach all people nor sufficiently recognize the diversity and uniqueness of people’s needs (Centre for Equity Studies, 2020; Lister, 2015). These indignities manifest most notably through harsh and ineffective targeting and through abusive and prescriptive conditionalities.

In India, improper targeting, punitive bureaucratic processes and systematic exclusion errors often result in millions of eligible individuals failing to access benefits (Davala et al., 2015). This situation is particularly worse with groups that do not fit typical ‘worker’ or ‘recipient’ categories (e.g., widows, single women, travelling communities) or lack proper documentation and are overlooked (Saharan et al., 2018).

Beyond isolated ‘administrative failures’, these experiences are argued to be endemic to modern policy architectures (Dardot and Laval, 2017). This is evidenced in paternalistic and abusive conditionalities attached to social assistance, on eligibility (e.g., cash for school enrolment) or on use (e.g., business-oriented grants). There is extensive evidence documenting how recipients are subjected to constant monitoring and intrusion and have to face significant punitive outcomes (Hamilton, 2020; Whelan, 2021; Wright et al., 2020). They also further narratives and experiences of shame, and take away their ability to make decisions over their own lives (Reeves and Loopstra, 2017). Such conditionalities have been criticized for degrading citizenship claims and failing to meet (varied) human needs (Torry, 2024).

Relationality and Respect: Humiliation and Stigmatization

The second key aspect of (in)dignifying experiences is rooted in one’s relations to others around them, and how these manifest in everyday interactions (Malpas, 2007). Dignity is fundamentally a relational experience, experienced and negated in how one perceives others to see and treat them (Feinberg, 1970; Zylberman, 2018). This is particularly true in collectivist societies like India, where identity, shame and honour are regularly used to police morality and order (Walker, 2014, p. 38). In contrast to dignity, Margalit (1998) argues, are the experiences of being humiliated, shamed and stigmatized, where respect is denied in social interactions.

There is extensive research on how poverty is not just a material and individualized experience, but a deeply relational one (Sen, 1983). Lister (2005, p. 8) has described poverty as ‘a shameful and corrosive social relation’, marked by a lack of voice and dignity. One fails to present oneself in a manner deemed appropriate by society, whether that is in how one dresses, speaks or interacts. One fails to engage in activities considered as valuable or respectable and is unable to meet one’s own needs or provide for the needs of families (Chase and Bantebya-Kyomuhendo, 2015).

This sense of shame and lack of enough/appropriate resources to participate leads to social withdrawal (Honkanen and Pulkka, 2016). Especially in a capitalist paradigm, where one’s life trajectories are distilled down to one’s own ‘abilities’ and ‘failures’, quantified clearly in material resources and rank (salaries, wealth, net worth) (Walker et al., 2013). This further entrenches stigma through the tropes of the irresponsible and lazy poor, deemed incapable of making decisions about their lives. Crucially, this ‘failure’ is not just in one’s own life, but also in being able to fulfil the responsibilities of ‘the roles of mother, father, community member or citizen’ (Chase and Bantebya-Kyomuhendo, 2015, p. 2).

Modern policy regimes are documented to reproduce these systems of stigma and humiliation in design and delivery (Dardot and Laval, 2017; Simpson, 2015). At the design level, their goal is to ‘optimize’ ‘scarce’ public resources, and make systems ‘efficient’ through targeted, conditional and discretion-heavy policy paradigms (Barrientos and Hulme, 2008; Hamilton, 2020). Stigma is argued to be intentionally built into the design and delivery of policy to disincentivize uptake (Pinker, 2017). This can be seen as far back as the conditions of the English Workhouse based on ‘less eligibility’ to disincentivize uptake (Calnitsky, 2017), and continues into the poor quality of work provided in the rural employment guarantee work offered in India (Alik-Lagrange et al., 2021). Some reports have found that those who received support under the MNREGA in India had ‘I am Poor’ painted outside their house to discourage other (and ineligible) participation (Pellissery and Mathew, 2013). Even in cash-based programming, narrowly (and often ineffectively) targeting has been reported to worsen social relations owing to feelings of envy and conflict between recipients, non-recipients and those making eligibility decisions (Ellis, 2012; MacAuslan and Riemenschneider, 2011). Programmes like microfinance (often packaged as dignifying development innovations) regularly employ tactics of (often gendered) shame and stigma to maximize repayment rates (Hulme and Maîtrot, 2014).

These indignities are also manifested in the delivery of these policies. This stage is mediated through layers of complicated paperwork and discretionary judgments by street-level bureaucracy (Mander, 2016), used to determine eligibility and deservingness (Gubrium and Pellissery, 2016). The poor need to prove ‘deservingness’ of being ‘truly’ poor/needy, being willing to ‘contribute’ back to society by receiving this support, and wanting to use it for ‘productive/desirable’ ends (Oorschot, 2000). Patrick and Simpson (2020) present accounts of people having to repeatedly prove their disability, or advisors treating them like ‘rubbish’ and ‘low lives’. There is evidence of the stigma attached to being a recipient of the Child Support Grant in South Africa deterring participation (Wright et al., 2014).

Autonomy and Control: Precarity and Dependence

Another key component of dignity is the experience of control and autonomy to live the life projects one desires (Beyleveld and Brownsword, 2001; Killmister, 2010). Malpas and Lickiss (2007) argue that the actions, structures and systems that violate autonomy also violate dignity, as they can take away one’s ability to live without oversight, control or interference. Several social psychology theories on one’s conception of self and dignity centre autonomy, self-government and the ability to meet one’s needs as one desires (Brennan and Lo, 2007; Ryan and Deci, 2017).

In contrast, there is now abundant research on how both poverty (Chase and Bantebya-Kyomuhendo, 2015) and mainstream policy infrastructure (Torry, 2024) undermine autonomy through deprivation, limiting choices and institutional control. The inability to meet one’s needs generates precarity, dependence, patronage and debt (Walker et al., 2013).

Neoliberal, conditional and paternalistic social policies further limit the feeling of control and autonomy for recipients (Simpson, 2015). Hegemonic wisdoms consider the poor to be irresponsible and incapable of making ‘good’ decisions (Soss et al., 2011). Social welfare policies are made contingent on certain behaviours (e.g., Looking for work or investing in business); and/or they dictate how the support should be used and on which terms (Casassas, 2024; Davala et al., 2015).

Based on Margalit’s (1998) conception of understanding dignity through its violations, Figure 1 maps these aforementioned experiences of shame, stigma and indignity and maps them against the themes of recognition, relationality and autonomy. In Section VI, this framework is then used to empirically explore participants’ experiences of (in)dignity on a social policy experiment that offers a possible alternative to both poverty and mainstream policy programming—a universal basic income.

Figure 1.

Conceptualizing (In)Dignity.

III. Is It Quite Basic (Income)?

There has been a significant rise in the profile and programming of basic income globally (Stanford Basic Income Lab, 2023). In the last few years, India has seen a multifold rise in unconditional cash transfer policies across states, mostly targeted at women and farmers (Kotiswaran, 2025). Various studies have documented basic income’s effects on health, livelihoods, work and wellbeing (Banerjee et al., 2019; Davala et al., 2015; Hasdell, 2020), including wider community effects, like potential to boost incomes (Jolley, 2022), social cohesion (Bashur and Mathur, 2026) and even more ambitious applications like its potential to support transitions to more renewable and sustainable economies (Belleville et al., 2025). However, the significant claims about its dignifying potential are argued either theoretically (Ward, 2020) or as a knock-on effect of reduced poverty (Roelen, 2020). This article aims to empirically explore the dignifying potential of the ‘UBI way’ of delivering cash. Namely, of its core design elements of unconditionality, universality, regularity and individual cash-based transfer. This section outlines the key theoretical arguments made about UBI’s dignifying potential.

As an individual and universal support, a UBI is argued to have three key advantages. First, it can provide recognition and economic strength to all individuals, avoiding inclusion/exclusion and bureaucratic errors. This is especially true for those, such as women, children, persons with disabilities, the extremely poor and so on, who are often left out of the narrowly defined economic citizen or ‘worker–earner’ trope (Pateman, 2004; Zelleke, 2011). A UBI, thus, can allow for such groups to ‘be seen’ and provide both confidence and material support to live one’s life project (Laitinen, 2015; Van Parijs, 1997). Some evidence of this has been found in the previous UBI pilot in India, with women and adolescent girls reporting psychosocial empowerment and asserting a sense of citizenship and ownership over ‘their money’ and ‘their desires’ (Davala et al., 2015).

This claim is further given credence on two grounds based on unconditionality, that is, the money comes with ‘no strings attached’. One, basic income holds the potential to make people in diverse and unique circumstances, and with specific and varied needs, feel recognized and empowered (Casassas, 2024; Fleischer and Lehto, 2019). Second, it can break through the stigma of navigating conditionalities (e.g., work requirements, having to prove group membership, identity or needs) and break the ‘deserving-undeserving’ poor binary (Standing, 2020). This, the argument goes, can allow people to focus on living the lives they want, without intrusion, policing and (pre-conceived and post-facto) judgment (Mack, 2006; Torry, 2024).

Finally, as a cash-based transfer (as opposed to vouchers or in-kind ones), a UBI is argued to address the varied indignities of deprivation. It can allow people to better meet their needs (whatever those may be), reduce reliance on debt and patronage and free people from the exploitative and precarious work cycles that are endemic to poverty (Widerquist, 2013). Cash as a universal medium of exchange, provided unconditionally to each person, is argued to have the unique capacity to give people the power and choice to address whatever the core pain points of their lives are without paternalistic supervision, judgment or accountability (Van Parijs and Vanderborght, 2017). In this way, it is argued to recognize the inherent value of each person and provide them with the means to meet their needs, take control over their lives and live life-projects they desire (Ward, 2020).

However, these claims are often contested. Unconditionality and universality clash with dominant value paradigms around rationalizing public finance towards the needy and deserving (Laenen et al., 2019). This ethic of ‘work’ and ‘reciprocity’ is so strongly embedded that failing to comply with such standards leads to negative societal and self-evaluations, generating shame and stigma. For instance, research with those in receipt of unconditional support in South Africa reports a preference for ‘work’ in exchange for benefits (Fouksman, 2020). Empirical studies with people engaged in even some of the most stigmatized and ‘dirty’ professions take pride and maintain dignity by ‘not living on welfare’ and ‘at least having a job’ (Terskova and Agadullina, 2019).

These moral obligations of ‘work’, ‘reciprocity’ and ‘contribution’ are also present in socialist discourse (Howard, 2005). Others have argued that UBI could be seen as a ‘standstill reward’ which takes away opportunities for self-fulfilment (Coote and Yazici, 2019, p. 24). These concerns are evident in the trends like ‘workfare’ policies such as MGNREGA in India (Paz-Fuchs, 2020), premised on providing dignity through work, purpose and identity (Das, 2016). This clash creates an interesting puzzle to explore the dignifying potential of a universal basic income as a form of policy reform.

IV. Case Study: The WorkFREE Pilot

This study explores participant experiences on a ‘UBI Plus’ pilot called WorkFREE, implemented in urban slums in India. The programme provided unconditional cash transfers (₹1,000 ($12)/adult and ₹500 ($6)/child) to all residents of these communities for 18 months. This was accompanied by relational and participatory community organizing support from a partner NGO, creating spaces for participants to discuss needs and strategies collectively (for further details see Mathur et al., 2023). Participation in either arm of the intervention was entirely voluntary and unconditional. Participants were mostly first- or second-generation domestic migrants engaged in low-income, precarious and informal occupations like garbage collection, daily wage labour and domestic work. Participants face multiple precarities, including low incomes, insecure housing and limited social protection.

This was the first major urban pilot in India, and only one of a handful of pilots globally that worked with entire communities rather than selected individuals. This setting was ideal for this study for two reasons. First, it closely models an ideal-type UBI (BIEN, n.d.), allowing for empirical scrutiny of a UBI and its individual features like unconditionality and universality, from a dignity lens. Second, it worked with a participant group that is a key site of study and policy interventions aiming to ‘provide’ dignity.

V. Methodology

Data for this project is taken from ethnographic data collection, including participant observation, interviews and focus group discussions over 16 months, before, during and after the end of the WorkFREE pilot. It also draws some insights from the quantitative survey conducted across all households (n = 295 across three rounds), covering aspects like financial security, social participation, health, education and wellbeing among others.

Across 4 communities, 14 households were interviewed three times (2 months before, at the midpoint and 3 months after the end of the pilot), along with 14 focus groups with almost 90 participants over similar phases. The interviews explored participants’ life journeys, experiences on the pilot and changes over its course, if any. The first round of focus groups covered themes like participants’ conceptions of, and experiences of, wellbeing, dignity, freedom and needs. There is no direct translation for the word ‘dignity’ in Urdu or Telugu (the main languages of Hyderabad), and thus proxies like ‘respect’, ‘honour’, ‘pride’, ‘control’, ‘choice’ and ‘wellbeing’ were used. These focus groups helped generate the framework and vocabulary of dignity (particularly around recognition, relationships, autonomy and control) that then guided questions and discussions in subsequent rounds. Subsequent focus groups covered labour, social relations, experiences on the pilot, perceptions of self and others and changes in their life (if any).

These were combined with 16 months of ethnographic observations. I spent a few hours every day in the communities, ‘hanging out and about’ (Woodward, 2008), observing daily life, spending time talking to participants and participating in social and cultural activities. This allowed for a ‘rich and thick’ exploration of participants’ daily lives (Geertz, 1994) and an observation of any changes in the way they organize and experience daily activities. To minimize social desirability and forcing ‘positive’ narratives of the cash, I tried to position myself as a younger ‘student’, separate from the administrative programme staff responsible for the delivery of the intervention (Mathur, 2024). Further, my questions remained centred around participants’ lives and perceptions, letting the UBI Plus intervention emerge organically (if at all) in the conversations.

Data from all sources were uploaded and coded on the software Dedoose, using a range of inductive and deductive approaches. Some themes, such as ‘recognition’, ‘invisibilization’, ‘esteem’, ‘respect’, ‘control’, were set up from the literature on dignity, while those like ‘stigmatization’, ‘relationality’, ‘indignities in other social policies’ emerged inductively from the different rounds of data collection. This approach of ‘dynamic switching’ or ‘retroductive’ analysis approach allows for the capture of complexity and nuance in participants’ narratives and has been found to enhance the analytical rigour of qualitative data (Meyer and Lunnay, 2013).

VI. Findings

Participant narratives on the WorkFREE pilot largely present evidence in favour of the intervention generating feelings of enhanced dignity, control over their lives and psychosocial wellbeing. They highlight the experience of being ‘seen’, feeling a (strengthened) part of a larger community and feeling a greater sense of control over their lives. They highlight the unique role of the support being unconditional, universal and cash-based, especially in contrast to various other state and NGO programmes with which they had engaged. Crucially, beyond the UBI, the additional relational support and solidaristic narratives accompanying the UBI were crucial in these experiences of dignity.

Recognition: Being Seen, Being Secure

Several participants brought up the feeling of being ‘seen’ and being ‘valued’ by being included in the UBI Plus pilot. At the start of the pilot, murmurs and side conversations were doubting the NGO’s true intentions behind this beshartulu (unconditional) cash transfer. However, after a few months of the transfer, participant trust in the universal and unconditional nature of the pilot strengthened. Participants reported feeling that someone valued them and their needs, that Madam [NGO community organizer] has recognized that we are also people (28-year-old man, Community B).

The unconditional and cash-based nature of the support was specifically highlighted, in contrast to conditional and targeted policies and narratives of them being irresponsible and feckless, which participants were more accustomed to Soss et al. (2011). These articulations of being doubly seen were reported to make participants feel valued and trusted.

Nobody trusts us. Nobody thinks ‘these people’ are good for anything. But this project trusts us. They think of us as real people and not just criminals. (40-year-old-man, Community C)

In the meetings madam said to us ‘You do not have to ask for permission for everything. You decide what you want to do with the money…’ that made me very happy. (22-year-old lady, Community B)

Importantly, beyond the cash, it is the accompanying solidaristic narratives and social care wrapping accompanying the delivery of the cash that was identified as important to the dignifying potential of the UBI.

These feelings were particularly echoed by demographics with weaker economic citizenship, such as teenagers, young adults and the elderly.

I’ve never had pocket money. [My parents] could not afford it. But these days I know there’s money in my name … I’ve told my mother to save it for me. (13-year-old, Community A)

Another elderly woman, who used to be a domestic worker (68-year-old, Community D) till her body no longer physically allowed it, mentioned feeling like someone when the money showed up in her bank account, even when nobody else cares.

Multiple cases, even of families engaged in paid work, were found to be appreciative of the security and recognition of ‘needs’ being met through unconditional cash. Given the precarity endemic to their work, and the proclivity to injury, illness and unemployment, we saw multiple families having to go through periods of no income. In these times, two men in separate conversations spoke of the relief they felt in at least being able to feed their children, given the beshartulu (unconditional) nature of the cash.

Finally, recognition and dignity were experienced through not having to jump through bureaucratic hoops to prove eligibility (and the associated failures to do so). One participant contrasted this experience with previous applications for a government cash grant. For the latter, she had had to submit her Aadhaar Card, PAN card and electricity bill. She did not have the latter two, as she was neither a taxpayer nor had permanent access to her house. After paying an illegal bribe and getting an electricity connection for her house, it could only be in her long-deceased husband’s name. She then had to submit a caste certificate and affidavits from other residents in the community, all causing great humiliation, stress and incurring financial expenses and loss of income. This complements long-standing research on how it can take up to 10 transactions between a citizen in urban India becoming aware of a policy and receiving its benefit, with each step incurring an average of ₹500 (Auerbach and Kruks-Wisner, 2020; Gupta, 2017).

Interestingly, while participants appreciated the experience of unconditionality and control, there was still a deep-rooted desire to prove and justify deservingness. Many participants described themselves as the truly poor, or the hardworking ones, in contrast to those with bad habits. Many also tried to navigate the concept of ‘reciprocity’ and ‘contribution’, to justify their receipt of this unconditional cash transfer, through an exposition of a ‘karmic balance’. They were ‘deserving’, the people of the toil (40-year-old man, Community C), whose hard work was not ‘proportionally’ rewarded. Despite their work and constantly breaking [their] back, this money was a recognition that allowed them to feed our children (50-year-old man, Community D).

These findings highlight that while universality and unconditionality were a powerfully dignifying force in participants’ lives, participants continued to judge themselves within the hegemonic frameworks and moral economy (Hamilton and Mulvale, 2019). This further lends credence to the claim above, about the importance of the social framework accompanying the UBI for a radically dignifying transformation.

Relationality: Social Relations and Contribution

The second set of dignity themes was around how participants felt about themselves and in relation to those around them. Experiences of dignity were rooted in one’s identity in relation to others and manifested in relationships, duties and interactions with others (Ikuenobe, 2016).

Improved Social Relations.

The first key theme, consistent with other research on poverty (Gubrium and Pellissery, 2016) and basic income (Hamilton and Mulvale, 2019), was the dignity felt in being able to ‘contribute’ to one’s family and network.

[Favourite moment in the last year…] When I showed up for my granddaughter’s wedding with a gold chain for her. It’s the first time I’ve been able to fulfil my duty towards her. (68-year-old woman, Community B)

These sentiments were also echoed in the narratives of young adults, who reported feeling ‘proud’ and ‘useful’, because they were able to contribute to their families’ (poor) economic conditions,

Usually, we just sit and see our parents struggling morning to night. It does not feel good. But with this project, we also feel like we are contributing. (16-year-old boy, Community D)

A related manifestation was in being able to (re)negotiate relationships within the family, by not being ‘dependent’ and a ‘burden’ on others,

With this amount, I can purchase tablets, medication and get some good food. I do not need to depend on my grandsons for money. (72-year-old woman, Community B)

Every month, my brother had to come and top up my ration, or leave some money for medicines. These days, I tell him it’s okay. I’m managing. (40-year-old woman, Community A)

Dignity, pride and wellbeing was also attributed to improved social relations in the community. A catalyst in that process was the pilot being universal (within the communities) and being accompanied by intentionally created community organizing support. Participants mentioned how the universality of the cash meant that they had a regular talking point with their neighbours. In otherwise relatively atomized lifestyles, ‘small talk’ around did the money arrive? or are you going to the bank? created more regular avenues of conversation. Further, the universal and unconditional nature of the scheme reduced the scope for shame or stigma between recipients and non-recipients. This was evident when compared to participants’ descriptions of other government-run schemes (e.g., old age pension, Dalit Bandhu, etc.) where participants spoke of those recipients or not being one of those groups.

A major source of support, solidarity and improved social relations was also the ‘Plus’ component of the pilot. In these regular meetings facilitated by the programme staff, small groups of participants were brought together in relational participatory spaces to discuss needs, resources and collective wellbeing strategies (Lazarus et al., 2025). Participation in these meetings was completely voluntary, and those who attended these sessions reported a great sense of recognition, their voice being valued and feeling an enhanced sense of solidarity. One participant mentioned how this allowed them to get to know each other by name. Many women reported how this was among the only spaces in their lives they could take time out of the daily grind and realize that their troubles were not theirs alone. Interestingly, through the support and solidarity created through the UBI ‘Plus’ project, participants were able to assert their voice with people outside. One lady claimed that this support empowered her to demand better from her employers, who had not raised her wage for a long time.

I said to them … those outside office [NGO] people do not know us, but they are willing to support us. I have been working in your house for so many years, and you do not realise I’m struggling? (52-year-old woman, Community A)

Another highlighted how,

Earlier, when they [political leaders] came to the basti, we were afraid and unsure how to talk to them. Now we have the courage to talk about our issues. We ask them, ‘this road is bad, will you talk to the officials, or should we go directly? (32-year-old woman, Community B)

Thus, the UBI way of delivering cash, and the accompanying narratives and activities of care and solidarity, improve participants’ sense of self, their ability to live their lives and relations with others around them.

Avoiding Other Humiliation, Shame and Indignities.

The unconditional cash also allowed participants to avoid other everyday indignities of their lives. Both through enhanced affordability of daily needs, and by being able to opt out of other in dignifying social assistance and debt.

Most participant households were self-employed ‘entrepreneurs’, who borrowed small daily loans to finance household and business expenses, a common experience for the urban poor (Malik et al., 2021). Ethnographic observations highlighted how representatives of private finance companies come into these communities three times a week to offer collateral-free hand-loans of ₹5–₹15,000 ($58–$175). Over the course of the pilot, focus group discussions and ethnographic observations in all communities reported a drop in dependence on such loans.

P1: After we started to get the [money] from [this] programme, people no longer take as much money from finance people, and even they stopped coming here.

P2: Even we are not interested in taking money from them.

P1: They used to be here on Tuesday and Friday; nowadays, they are not coming here. (60-year-old woman and 50-year old man, Community D)

One of the most attributed emotions arising from this finding was the avoidance of shame and humiliation that is key to the process of borrowing and repaying. Importantly, this reduced dependence was attributed to the unconditionality and regular provision of the cash.

It’s not that we cannot repay. We just do not know what incomes we will get and when. Every month it changes. With this money, I know what date it will come, and that it will definitely come every month. (42-year-old man, Community A)

For me, this money means control. Earlier, some people [different NGO programme] gave us some money, but we could only use it for business. I felt so ashamed as he [lender] was abusing me. I had money, but I could not pay him back. (52-year-old man, Community C)

For daily wagers and garbage collectors, earnt incomes varied in amount and timing, based on available work and informal payment agreements. This led to participants struggling to pay bills or loan repayments on time or having to borrow just to meet regular expenses.

On the 5th or 7th of every month, I’m not nervous that the lender will send his men to threaten me, I’m not nervous that the rent for the house has to go. I know this money will see me through a few days. I know it’s there every month. (23-year-old man, Community D)

The second major trend was an increased capacity to opt out of the shame-inducing and humiliating experiences of accessing some state policies. Mander (2016) documents how the quality of state services is often so poor that the poor have no option but to look outside. Two examples are indicative. One, engaging with the PDS ration system, and the other, engaging with state healthcare. For the former participants highlighted an ability to not be completely reliant on the state-provided ration, which was of poor quality and delivered in a humiliating fashion.

That rice is so thick and broken. It is full of pebbles. I cannot eat that rice.… I use the basic income money to buy some good rice from the shop. (30-year-old-woman, Community C)

You stand for hours in the line. You see the mice nibbling on the sacks of food. Is that a way to feed humans? If I could afford more, I’d further reduce getting that. (55-year-old-woman, Community C)

With healthcare, participants reported being able to avoid going to the government hospital, where one has to sit on the floor for hours without any doctor paying attention and instead was able to afford to go to the private nursing home, where at least the doctor and staff care. Similar sentiments were found with participants reporting having enhanced ability to complete treatment and medication cycles, owing to enhanced economic capacity and feelings of control.

Autonomy and Control: ‘Being Able To’

The final set of findings from a dignity lens speaks to an enhanced ‘power to’ (Widerquist, 2013) live the life-projects participants desired and choose which aspects of their lives they wanted to address (Devine et al., 2008; Van Parijs and Vanderborght, 2017). Several themes above—ranging from being able to meet their (individual and collective) needs, increased citizenship, ability to contribute, ability to not be dependent and ability to (dis)engage with other services—speak to significant boosts in autonomy and control over one’s life. This was attributed to both increased economic power and reduced precarity, and the unconditional, individual and regular nature of the cash.

Poverty Reduction and Control

On the one hand, the cash directly addressed the significant material precarity plaguing participants’ lives. Data from the quantitative survey done as a part of the project (at the baseline, midline and endline) finds over 37% of households being able to repay long-standing debts, and 31% households reporting having savings for the first time in their lives. In addition, participants reported a significant increase in assets, including motorcycles, mobile phones and household goods and appliances like cupboards, mixer-grinders, TVs and washing machines. Participants described this material security as providing significant mental relief, as well as an ability to decide what to do with one’s life.

If my children request a packet of chips or insist on eating a particular thing, I do not have to think too much. I can do more without thinking about every rupee spent. It feels good. (40-year-old woman, Community B)

Consistent with UBI literature, beyond just a cash effect (i.e., of poverty amelioration), the unconditionality of the cash was reported to be particularly dignifying by giving participants the choice of how they wanted to use their funds. The quantitative survey of the study finds that the top category of expenditure with the UBI was ‘household expenses’. Ethnographic observations and interviews highlight that even within this broader category, the actual domains of expenses and strategies of need-fulfilment were so varied. Some households prioritized getting larger quantities of oil and ghee, others used it to supplement their ration supplies, while others still used it for more meat consumption—with the variability and ability to choose being appreciated as providing dignity and security to participants.

Everyone in this community is different. Some have more, some have less. But at the end of the day, we are all struggling. Every day our lives throw new challenges. Someday the house is leaking, someday we lose our job, someday someone falls ill. This money, having no rules, we appreciated very much. It made me so happy. It meant we were always safe. (45-year-old man, Community B)

Increased asset ownership also highlighted patterns of increased control, dignity and time-generating, as has long been recorded, particularly for women (Hayden, 1982; Jackson, 1992)

I’ve been saving money to buy a steel cupboard. I can store my clothes without them all getting crushed. (24-year-old woman, Community A)

I can wash clothes quickly and prepare children for the next day. It saves so much time and makes me feel so much happier. (30-year-old woman, Community B)

Gendered Agency

While a full review of the gendered implications of this project is outside the scope of this article, two trends bear crucial mention. First, some women reported how, over the course of the pilot, they were able to assert independence from the financial control of male relatives.

P1: For everything, we were dependent on our husbands for small things … P2: asking [rupees]100 also, they used to ask us why do you want money? Even for [children’s] dresses, we have to ask.… Now, we can get our money; there is no need to ask them for small things. (24-year-old and 32-year-old women, Community A)

Another highlighted how they felt more control over this money, since, unlike other incomes of the household, they knew its amount and frequency.

This is transparent money. I know when it will come and exactly how much it is. Other money my husband controls. Sometimes he spends some of it and then only tells me the amount later. With this money, I know I need to save for 5 months to buy one gold coin. (40-year-old woman, Community C)

Second, as highlighted above, the combination of independent financial strength and community participation spaces for all meant women describing feeling like life was more worth it. Multiple women described that the provision of strengthened economic and social citizenship made them think more generatively of the future, and that they had the ability to make something of the plans and dreams they have.

VII. Discussion

The idea of a universal basic income has moved from a radical fringe idea to a mainstream policy option. Most evidently, this is witnessed in the significant rise in such policies in India (Kotiswaran, 2025), announced with an explicit dignity orientation (ET Online, 2025). This study is the first to put the dignifying claims of universal basic income to rigorous empirical scrutiny, and especially to understand whether its unique design features stack up to the transformative claims long made by UBI advocates. Three points merit discussion.

First, there has been extensive empirical documentation of the psychosocial nature of poverty (Lister, 2005; Narayan et al., 2000), of the experiences of shame, humiliation, indignity and helplessness associated with it (Chase and Bantebya-Kyomuhendo, 2015), and of aspirations to make social assistance and welfare address these concerns (UN, 2016). However, from a conceptual lens that can guide policy design and evaluation, few attempts have been made to create operable and examinable frameworks of dignity (see some notable exceptions Jacobson, 2009; Patrick and Simpson, 2020; Schmidt et al., 2020; Simpson et al., 2017). For the most part, dignity as a virtue is relegated to an ephemeral lens that allows for it to be used on all sides of an argument, to justify a whole range of (even conflicting) policies, and rarely be challenged (Macklin, 2003; Marks, 2019). This article aims to create a framework centred around ideas of recognition, relationality and autonomy, to empirically explore the dignity potential in a social policy alternative, still rooted in the voices of those whose dignity seeks to be enhanced.

Second, findings of this study provide cause for optimism for UBI as a potential policy alternative. Particularly, its core design elements of unconditionality, universality, individuality, regularity and cash-based nature, individually and synergistically provide participants with enhanced recognition, control over their lives and the ability to (re)negotiate strengthened, equitable and respectful relationships. From a dignity lens, this policy can make a differentiated offering from mainstream policy options. Referring to Sayer’s (2011) conception of inherent and attributive dignity, most mainstream programmes aim to implement a predetermined, top-down, technocratic understanding of how participants should live their lives. Built on an understanding of an inherent basic human dignity, understood in a hegemonic, top-down sense, that can be ‘delivered’. These ideas are often dissonant, if not contradictory, to how participants view their own wellbeing and dignity (Chambers, 2017; Howard, 2017). Further, mainstream international development and social policy practice have also failed to recognize the inherently material roots of the vulnerability of the poor (Howard, 2017; Widerquist, 2013). This study provides evidence that, as an unconditional, cash-based transfer paid to all, UBI seems to offer the potential to allow people to build their own, more attributive and respect-based conceptions of a good, dignified life, on their own terms.

Finally, what is clear from the evidence is that it is not just the cash, but the accompanying narratives and social support with its delivery, that are crucial to experiences of dignity. The narratives of solidarity, care and unconditionality, combined with intentionally held spaces for participants to come together was critical to boosting dignity. Similarly, despite an enhanced sense of self and dignity, participants continued to operate and evaluate themselves within the hegemonic paradigms. These findings are mirrored in a recent pilot of unconditional cash transfers in West Bengal, where women recipients reported

Many say to me the money we get from Lakshmir Bhandar is free. But what about our daily toil and underpay, which does not get compensated as years pass by. (Pratichi Trust, 2023, p. 12)

This is of crucial importance, as it means that UBI may be experienced very differently if implemented within neoliberal systems, accompanied by narratives of rationalizing or minimizing government support and its uptake. This is often the case, ranging from right-wing and Silicon Valley UBI advocates (Sage and Diamond, 2017) and often in India, where the rise of unconditional basic income schemes is shamed in mainstream media as revris (freebies)—something to be avoided (Balaji, 2025). Even in Fouksman’s (2020) study, where participants expressed a preference for jobs rather than government grants, they changed their minds when the idea was framed as a monthly basic income (rather than a share of natural resources). This is a crucial finding, as it highlights that while UBI may be a novel policy innovation, it is subject to the same world of meanings and experiences of interactions and delivery (Gubrium and Pellissery, 2016). Money holds different meanings, negotiated within different and transitional moral economies (Ferguson, 2015). Experiences of (in)dignity covered in this article are subject to their unique time, place, context and location in the world. However, their rich and granular descriptions can inform key debates within international development and social policy debates.

VIII. Conclusion

The wealth of theoretical and empirical literature on shame, wellbeing and (in)dignity points to a straightforward, but damning consensus. Those in conditions of poverty experience a great deal of shame and humiliation, which is duplicated (if not exacerbated) in their interactions with mainstream development and policy practice. As Margalit (1998) explains, dignity is not limited to just getting one’s needs met but can be violated in the way those needs are met. Advocates of a Universal Basic Income have long argued that its simple but radical alternative addresses the most fundamental design flaws of targeting, conditionality and indignity that are endemic to current policy systems. This article empirically explores those claims, especially if the UBI way of cash transfers (as opposed to more targeted, conditional or microfinance-based ones, for instance) is particularly dignifying.

This article makes three contributions. First, it maps a wide range of experiences and concepts central to the dignity in development and social policy debates to generate a framework to operationalize dignity. Future research can strengthen this and other frameworks that make dignity a more operable and testable value in the lexicon of international development and social policy. Second, it provides rich and granular descriptions of (in)dignity, rooted in participants’ own words, relationships and experiences, along an ideal-type UBI pilot. These are explored apart from just the poverty-ameliorating effects (which are significant!), to analyze if the specific features of the scheme played a specific role, in contrast with literature from other types of cash transfer programmes. Finally, it finds and centres the importance of the context, narratives and additional social dynamics and care that accompany a UBI pilot. This finding is crucial as it takes UBI away from a radical ‘alternative’ studied in ‘experimental’ conditions, to explore its effects within real social dynamics. As the idea becomes more mainstream in policy practice, such explorations of the specific effects of a UBI on particular aspects of different demographics and contexts will be critical to shaping the future of international development and social policy reform.

Overall, this article speaks to multiple academic and development policy debates. It speaks to conceptualizations of (in)dignity, and how that operates in development and policy practice. It makes a case for moving beyond top-down, technocratic and bureaucratized conceptions of dignity that guide policy, to those focused on enhancing recognition, respect and capabilities for the recipients. Future research needs to explore this connection, as well as test how different (and perhaps conflicting) conceptions of dignity are shaping modern development and policy reforms.