India’s ₹598 Crore Gamble on Cow Urine and Dung Research: A Wasteful Pursuit?

 

India’s ₹598 Crore Gamble on Cow Urine and Dung Research: A Wasteful Pursuit?

In recent years, the Government of India has poured significant resources into researching and commercializing cow urine and dung, driven by a blend of cultural reverence and economic ambition. Official figures indicate at least ₹598 crore has been allocated to these efforts, with programs like the Rashtriya Kamdhenu Aayog and SUTRA-PIC leading the charge. While proponents argue these initiatives preserve traditional knowledge and boost rural economies, critics — including myself — see this as a colossal waste of public funds on scientifically dubious pursuits. Let’s unpack the numbers, the science, and why this investment feels like a misstep.

The Scale of Spending

The financial commitment to cow urine and dung research is staggering. According to available data, the government has allocated funds through several high-profile initiatives:

• Rashtriya Kamdhenu Aayog: Launched with a ₹500 crore corpus in the 2019–20 Union Budget, this program supports startups and research focused on cow products, including urine and dung. As reported by the Times of India, the initiative aims to fund cow-based startups with up to 60% government backing, encouraging ventures that commercialize these products for medicinal and agricultural use (Times of India, 2019: Cow-based startups to get 60% government funding).
• SUTRA-PIC Research Scheme: This inter-ministerial program, allocated ₹98 crore, focuses on scientific research into indigenous cow products. The Hindu noted its launch in 2020, emphasizing validation of health and agricultural benefits, though budgetary details remain murky (The Hindu, 2020: Government unveils plan for research on ‘indigenous’ cows).
• SVAROP Program: Initiated in 2017, this effort to validate Panchgavya (cow dung, urine, milk, curd, ghee) has seen at least ₹30 crore sanctioned, with the Hindu reporting that only a fraction of the proposed ₹100 crore was disbursed due to funding delays (The Hindu, 2019: Lack of funds from Centre stalls research in cow-derivatives).

Beyond these, the Council of Scientific and Industrial Research (CSIR) and the Ministry of AYUSH conduct ongoing research, with undisclosed budgets adding uncertainty to the total. The Indian Express highlighted CSIR’s work, including US patents for cow urine’s bio-enhancing properties, while AYUSH explores anti-cancer claims (Indian Express, 2015: CSIR team testing cow urine for medical benefits, govt tells LS; Hindustan Times, 2017: Govt labs researching cow urine for anti-cancer trait: Ministry of Ayush).

Cumulatively, these efforts account for at least ₹628 crore, though some estimates peg the figure at ₹598 crore, possibly excluding smaller programs like SVAROP. Either way, the scale is undeniable — and, in my view, indefensible.

The Scientific Controversy

The rationale for this spending often hinges on Ayurveda and cultural tradition, with claims that cow urine and dung treat ailments from diabetes to cancer. Yet, the scientific community remains deeply skeptical. Over 100 scientists criticized SUTRA-PIC as “unscientific,” urging its withdrawal, as reported by the Indian Express (Indian Express, 2020: Research plan on ‘indigenous’ cows: Scientists urge govt to withdraw programme, call it unscientific). They argued that funding such research diverts resources from more pressing scientific priorities.

While CSIR’s patents suggest some bioactivity, peer-reviewed studies validating medicinal claims are scarce. Most evidence remains anecdotal or preliminary, failing to meet rigorous standards. Spending hundreds of crores on unproven hypotheses feels reckless when India faces urgent challenges like healthcare access and climate resilience, where funds could yield tangible results.

A Misguided Economic Bet

Proponents argue that cow-based startups could boost rural economies, creating jobs and sustainable products. The Rashtriya Kamdhenu Aayog’s ₹500 crore infusion aims to make this a reality, with Pakwired noting the push for youth-led cow-product ventures (Pakwired, 2019: INDIA: 60% funding for cow dung, urine startups). But the market for cow urine and dung — whether as medicines, fertilizers, or cosmetics — is niche and unproven at scale. Betting public funds on speculative industries, especially without robust scientific backing, risks economic failure and squandered resources.

Contrast this with investments in renewable energy or digital infrastructure, which have clearer paths to economic impact. The government’s enthusiasm for cow products seems driven more by cultural ideology than sound economics, a priorities that feels out of step with India’s modern ambitions.

Why It’s a Waste

In my opinion, this ₹598 crore (or more) allocation is a textbook case of misdirected priorities. India’s scientific and economic challenges demand investments in areas with proven potential — be it vaccine development, clean energy, or education. Pouring funds into cow urine and dung research, where scientific consensus is shaky and commercial viability uncertain, is not just wasteful but a disservice to taxpayers. The cultural argument, while emotionally compelling, doesn’t justify diverting resources from pressing needs.

The government could redirect these funds to bolster healthcare infrastructure, fund cutting-edge biotech, or support sustainable agriculture with proven methods. Instead, we’re chasing unverified claims, risking both credibility and capital.

Conclusion

India’s ₹598 crore investment in cow urine and dung research reflects a complex interplay of culture, science, and economics — but it’s a gamble that doesn’t pay off. As the Indian Express scientists warned, such programs risk undermining India’s scientific rigor. With limited resources, the government must prioritize impact over ideology. It’s time to rethink this costly pursuit and focus on challenges that truly shape India’s future.

The Dire Wolf Returns: A Triumph of Science, Not Scriptures

 

The Dire Wolf Returns: A Triumph of Science, Not Scriptures

Imagine a world where the howls of the dire wolf, a majestic predator extinct for over 10,000 years, echo once again through the wilderness. This isn’t a fantasy plucked from the pages of a mythological epic — it’s a reality forged by the relentless curiosity and ingenuity of modern science. In 2025, researchers at xAI and collaborating biotech labs announced a breakthrough: the successful de-extinction of Canis dirus, the dire wolf, using advanced genetic engineering and cloning techniques. For an Indian audience accustomed to tales of divine intervention, this achievement stands as a towering testament to human potential — a feat no prayer, mantra, or ancient text could ever replicate.

A Scientific Marvel, Not a Miracle

The dire wolf’s return is no less than extraordinary. Scientists painstakingly reconstructed its genome from fossilized remains, filling gaps with DNA from its closest living relatives, like the gray wolf. Through CRISPR gene-editing and surrogate gestation in modern canines, a species lost to time has been reborn. This isn’t the stuff of Game of Thrones or Hollywood CGI — it’s real, measurable, and repeatable. The first pack of cloned dire wolves now roams a controlled habitat, their amber eyes and powerful jaws a living tribute to what humanity can achieve when it leans on evidence, not faith.

For a nation like India, where innovation in science and technology is accelerating — from Chandrayaan missions to homegrown AI models — this milestone resonates deeply. It’s a reminder that our labs, not our temples, hold the keys to rewriting the natural world. No Vedic hymn or Puranic tale ever hinted at coaxing life back from the jaws of extinction. The Rigveda may speak of cosmic creation, but it’s silent on the mechanics of DNA sequencing. The Mahabharata weaves grand narratives of war and divine boons, yet it offers no blueprint for cloning a species. This is science’s domain, and it’s a domain where religion has no footing.

Why Religion Can’t Compete

Let’s be clear: Hinduism, with its rich tapestry of stories and philosophies, has inspired millions. The concept of srishti (creation) and the cyclical nature of time in yugas are poetic and profound. But inspiration isn’t innovation. No amount of devotion to Lord Brahma, the creator, or rituals at the ghats of Varanasi can resurrect a species. The tools of de-extinction — microscopes, gene sequencers, computational models — are products of human intellect, not divine revelation. While priests chant shlokas for prosperity, scientists toil in labs to turn the impossible into the tangible.

This isn’t to diminish the cultural value of Hinduism. It’s simply to say that when it comes to mastering the physical world, science delivers where religion only dreams. The dire wolf’s return isn’t a “miracle” foretold by some saffron-robed sage — it’s a calculated victory of data-driven discovery. And that’s what makes it so remarkable: it’s ours, wholly human, untainted by claims of supernatural meddling.

The Inevitable Religious Rewrite

Fast-forward a few hundred years. If de-extinction becomes routine — mammoths grazing in Siberia, dodos waddling across Mauritius — mark my words: the religious fanatics will crawl out of the woodwork. In India, some self-styled guru will dig through the Upanishads or Bhagavad Gita, cherry-pick a vague verse about life’s eternal return, and declare, “See? Our scriptures predicted this all along!” They’ll twist Sanskrit metaphors into pseudoscientific prophecies, claiming Hinduism knew the secrets of cloning before Watson and Crick ever dreamed of DNA.

It’s a pattern we’ve seen before. When Indian mathematicians gave the world zero, or when Aryabhata calculated planetary orbits, modern zealots retrofitted these achievements into religious narratives, as if the Vedas were coded with calculus. Never mind that these were triumphs of observation and reason, not divine whispers. In a few centuries, the dire wolf’s revival will likely suffer the same fate — hijacked by saffron-clad opportunists eager to paint science as a footnote to their faith. It’s laughable, predictable, and utterly baseless.

A Future Rooted in Reason

For now, let’s revel in this moment. The dire wolf’s return isn’t just a win for biology — it’s a clarion call for India to double down on science. We’re a nation of IITs and ISRO, of startups and space probes. Our future lies in fostering the next generation of geneticists and engineers, not in clinging to myths that offer no solutions. Imagine an India where we bring back the Asiatic cheetah or the pink-headed duck, not through pujas but through petri dishes and perseverance. That’s a legacy worth building.

Religion has its place — in art, in ethics, in community. But when it comes to bending nature to our will, it’s science that reigns supreme. The dire wolf stands as proof: a ghost of the Ice Age, summoned not by gods, but by the wonders of human hands. Let the priests chant their mantras. We’ll keep rewriting history — one gene at a time.