11 November 2025

India’s vehicle ban policy: A flawed equation between age and emissions

The logic of banning vehicles based on age, to curb emissions, being inherently flawed, a revised policy should be 'more carrot and less stick' to ensure clean air without compromising livelihoods

India’s vehicle ban policy: A flawed equation between age and emissions

India’s age-based vehicle ban, though intended to curb air pollution, rests on flawed science and unfair enforcement. By equating vehicle age with emissions, it punishes responsible citizens while allowing major polluters like thermal power plants to evade stricter norms. The policy overlooks key factors such as maintenance, usage, and actual emissions, disproportionately burdening the middle class and informal sector. International best practices favour emissions-based testing and incentivised transitions. India must shift from symbolic bans to data-driven, equitable solutions that tackle real polluters, uphold environmental justice, and support a just transition.

In India’s expanding battle against air pollution, a curious paradox has taken root. On the one hand, thousands of private vehicle owners—particularly in and around the National Capital Region (NCR)—are being compelled to discard their passenger cars and two-wheelers not because they are unsafe or polluting, but because they have reached a certain age.

Whether or not they are highly polluting due to age is not the catalyst behind the policy decision that disqualifies them from plying.

Under the current rules, diesel vehicles older than 10 years and petrol vehicles older than 15 years are summarily banned from the roads in NCR, regardless of their condition, emissions, or maintenance history. In one stroke, the government has chosen a single, arbitrary metric—AGE—as the determinant of environmental guilt.

And yet, while citizens are penalised for owning older but roadworthy vehicles, the central government has exempted nearly 78 percent of India's coal-fired thermal power plants from installing Flue Gas Desulphurisation (FGD) systems—a key pollution-control technology meant to limit sulphur dioxide emissions.

The contrast is jarring. Vehicles that are used sparingly, maintained diligently, and regularly fitness-tested are being forced off the roads, while some of the dirtiest fixed-point polluters—gigantic thermal plants with decades of operational legacy—continue to spew toxins into the atmosphere with little oversight.

Proponents may argue that power plants around NCR and other environmentally sensitive areas are still required to install FGDs. However, air pollution does not respect geographic boundaries. Just as vehicular emissions travel beyond city limits, so do pollutants from distant thermal stations.

If pollution control is truly the goal, both mobile and stationary sources must be addressed with equal urgency. The rhetoric of pollution, in both cases, often serves as a convenient mask for self-serving political or economic interests behind selective action and inaction.

This contradiction is not just ironic—it is emblematic of a larger failure of environmental governance in India. Rather than adopting a nuanced, data-driven, and equitable approach to pollution control, the government appears to be pursuing selective and symbolic action.

Pollution is a complex outcome of multiple factors: fuel type, maintenance, usage pattern, engine condition, driving behaviour, and the presence (or absence) of emission-control systems. Simply equating vehicle age with pollution is reductive and unscientific.

A 10-year-old diesel car that has been regularly serviced and fitted with a working diesel particulate filter (DPF) can often emit less than a brand-new car that is neglected or driven irresponsibly. Yet, the current policy assumes guilt based on registration year, not real-time emissions—a move that disregards both science and fairness.

Moreover, such blanket bans disproportionately burden the middle and lower-middle classes. Someone who invested in a good vehicle a decade ago, maintained it responsibly, and lacks the financial means to purchase a new car is left with no choice but to scrap a usable asset.

Meanwhile, large industrial polluters with vast financial resources are given leeway in the name of economic feasibility.

The exemption granted to thermal power plants is particularly troubling. These plants are among the biggest contributors to particulate matter and sulphur dioxide emissions, affecting regions far beyond their immediate locality.

By exempting a large chunk of them from FGD compliance, the state effectively privileges industrial interests over environmental protection, undermining the very rationale it uses to justify punitive measures against private citizens.

Accordingly, banning vehicles strictly based on age emerges as an unscientific, economically unfair, and environmentally ineffective approach. It represents a superficial solution to a deeply rooted problem. When the goal is to reduce pollution, then policies must target actual polluters based on data—not assumptions.

Understanding the policy: Origins, objectives and operational logic

The current age-based vehicle bans stem from a mix of judicial interventions, pollution concerns and bureaucratic expediency. It was not conceived as part of a well-rounded mobility or climate strategy, but rather as a reactive response to a growing air quality crisis—particularly in Delhi, which frequently tops global charts for toxic air.

The pivotal moment came in 2014, when the National Green Tribunal (NGT) issued an order banning diesel vehicles older than 10 years and petrol vehicles older than 15 years from operating in Delhi NCR. The Supreme Court later endorsed this order. Regional transport authorities began implementing it in phases, starting with vehicle deregistration and later expanding to physical removal from roads through surveillance and enforcement.

The stated rationale was straightforward: older vehicles, especially diesel ones, are believed to be disproportionately responsible for vehicular pollution due to outdated engine technology, lower fuel efficiency and higher emissions. By removing them from circulation, policymakers hoped to achieve quick reductions in PM2.5 and NOx levels—two of the most dangerous urban air pollutants.

At first glance, the policy has intuitive appeal. It seems logical that older vehicles might pollute more, given wear and tear and the absence of newer emission control technologies. This logic becomes more persuasive when framed as a public health issue: fewer old vehicles, cleaner air, fewer respiratory illnesses.

However, the rules are not uniformly enforced across India. The age ban is mainly operational in Delhi and select NCR districts, while other cities—despite poor air quality—have adopted a wait-and-watch approach or continue with fitness-based deregistration after 15 or 20 years, as per the Motor Vehicles Act.

This inconsistency raises questions about the seriousness and coherence of the policy as a national environmental strategy.

Adding to the confusion is the Vehicle Scrappage Policy 2021, pitched as a voluntary scheme encouraging owners to scrap old vehicles with incentives. This central policy, however, sits uncomfortably beside the NGT-mandated bans. While the scrapping policy aims to replace old vehicles through market mechanisms and offers discounts on new purchases, the blanket ban in NCR is mandatory, punitive and often abrupt.

The contradiction between these two approaches—voluntary replacement versus forced deregistration—highlights the lack of coordination between judicial rulings, executive policies and regulatory enforcement. Citizens are left confused and cornered, many finding their vehicles suddenly illegal to operate despite having valid registrations, insurance and roadworthiness certificates.

Another major concern is that the policy’s environmental calculations are based on assumptions rather than rigorous real-world data. Laboratory tests show older Bharat Stage (BS) II or III vehicles emit more than newer BS VI models, but the gap can narrow dramatically depending on maintenance.

Yet, the state has invested little in Portable Emissions Measurement Systems (PEMS) or Remote Sensing Devices (RSD) to measure actual tailpipe emissions on Indian roads. Instead, enforcement is based on registration dates—a lazy proxy that punishes responsible owners and lets poorly maintained younger vehicles off the hook.

In its current form, the policy does not account for retrofits or upgrades, such as installing DPFs or emissions-reducing catalytic converters. This leaves no room for technological remediation, only outright disposal—a wasteful and environmentally questionable approach, especially in a country still grappling with limited recycling infrastructure.

In short, while the age-based ban is framed as a public health and environmental measure, it lacks scientific grounding, operational fairness and consistent execution. It has become a blunt instrument in a space demanding surgical precision.

Without a shift towards real-time, usage-based emissions assessment, India's pollution control strategy will continue relying on shortcuts that disproportionately impact ordinary people while sidestepping the country’s largest and most powerful polluters.

Scientific flaws in the age-based ban on vehicles

While the intent behind Delhi-NCR’s vehicular age-ban policy might stem from concerns over air pollution, a closer examination reveals significant scientific inconsistencies and oversimplifications.

Real-world emissions data show that a new vehicle with faulty fuel injectors or a missing catalytic converter can pollute multiple times more than an old vehicle in good condition.

Modern automotive engineering—even a decade or more ago—introduced advanced technologies such as Common Rail Direct Injection (CRDI), Exhaust Gas Recirculation (EGR), and DPFs. Many of these were in use before Bharat Stage VI (BS-VI) norms and continue to reduce harmful emissions significantly when vehicles are properly maintained.

Most scientifically robust vehicular regulations worldwide—such as those in the EU, Japan, and California—are increasingly moving towards real driving emissions (RDE) testing rather than arbitrary classifications based on registration year.

In India, however, the policy sidelines the possibility of implementing a tailpipe emission-based fitness test to determine a vehicle’s polluting potential. Such a test would allow authorities to objectively assess environmental impact regardless of vehicle age, aligning policy with actual emissions data instead of assumptions.

Tools for such testing—like Pollution Under Control (PUC) centres, Portable Emissions Measurement Systems (PEMS), and periodic fitness certification—already exist but remain underutilised. Instead, the policy opts for a blanket ban, which is easier to implement but scientifically reductionist.

Scientific scrutiny must also consider proportion and priority. Vehicles contribute to air pollution but they are not the sole or largest polluters. Studies by Central Pollution Control Board (CPCB) and Centre for Science and Environment (CSE) show that construction dust, industrial emissions, biomass burning and coal-fired thermal power plants heavily impact air quality in Delhi.

When 78 percent of India’s thermal plants were exempted from installing Flue Gas Desulphurisation (FGD) systems, the selective focus on old vehicles begins to look more like regulatory tokenism than science-based policy.

Ironically, such bans may worsen the overall environmental footprint. By forcing mass scrapping of serviceable vehicles, the policy indirectly accelerates demand for new cars, which come with significant carbon costs—from raw material extraction to assembly and logistics.

Prematurely junking relatively low-emission vehicles risks incurring a carbon debt that could offset or exceed the pollution benefits, contradicting principles of life-cycle emissions management.

Economic and social consequences of an age-based vehicle ban

Beyond its scientific shortcomings, the age-based vehicle ban in Delhi-NCR has triggered significant economic and social ramifications, disproportionately affecting the middle- and lower-income citizens and revealing class biases inherent in such blanket regulations.

While environmental protection is a public good, the pursuit of cleaner air cannot come at the cost of livelihoods, mobility rights and social equity. A just transition must consider who pays the price and who is left behind.

For thousands of families and small businesses, a private vehicle—especially a diesel car or light commercial vehicle—is not a luxury but a necessity. These families often stretch their budgets, purchasing durable vehicles with long-term loans, expecting them to serve for at least 20 years.

Abruptly cutting that life cycle at 10 years, without compensation or adequate transition, results in direct economic loss. In a country where resale value forms part of household capital, being forced to scrap a vehicle amounts to asset destruction.

For commercial vehicle owners—delivery vans, school transport, taxi drivers—the blow is even more acute. Many rely on used vehicles, and scrapping them prematurely punishes enterprise and thrift, key traits of India's informal economy.

There is a troubling socio-economic divide in the policy’s impact: a 10-year-old diesel car driven by a school teacher or plumber is banned whereas a brand-new high-end SUV with a massive carbon footprint is allowed simply because it is fresh out of the production line.

Such flawed conditions only privilege the consumption of the rich over the survival needs of the poor and middle classes. Wealthier owners can bypass rules by purchasing new or multiple vehicles, while single-vehicle households, especially in smaller towns, face daily routine disruption.

The ripple effects extend to the used vehicle market, employing thousands of small dealers, mechanics, and auto-part recyclers. The ban has crashed the value of vehicles nearing 10 or 15 years in Delhi-NCR—even in excellent condition.

Buyers are wary, sellers desperate, and mechanics specialising in older vehicles see reduced demand. This disrupts an informal ecosystem with economic and cultural dimensions, especially in a country where jugaad, repair and reuse are environmental virtues.

Perhaps the most glaring policy gap is the absence of meaningful financial support or transitional assistance. In developed countries, phasing out older vehicles often includes scrappage incentives, tax rebates, or buyback schemes. In India, while a voluntary scrappage policy exists, its incentives are inconsistent, limited, and poorly implemented.

For vehicle owners in NCR—where diesel vehicles are banned after 10 years regardless of condition—the financial burden falls squarely on individuals and small businesses. With no direct compensation and abrupt enforcement, many must prematurely discard functional vehicles or take on fresh debt amid uncertain economic conditions.

The social cost goes beyond money. For the elderly or single-car households, being told their reliable vehicle is now ‘illegal’—even for short commutes—undermines mobility and autonomy. Women relying on cars for safety, students commuting to college and families visiting hospitals are forced onto overburdened public transport or costly ride-hailing services.

The anxiety and helplessness generated, especially when enforcement appears arbitrary or harsh, cannot be ignored in humane policymaking.

Better alternatives exist: Beyond the age-based ban

The conversation about pollution any day must go beyond vehicle age and instead target real factors contributing to emissions. The assumption that all older vehicles pollute more than newer ones is simplistic—and policies built on this tend to be unfair and ineffective.

Fortunately, more nuanced, scientific and socially inclusive alternatives exist and have been tested in India and abroad with measurable success.

A logical and scientifically sound alternative is periodic emission-based fitness certification. Instead of assuming a 10-year-old diesel car is inherently polluting, authorities could mandate regular emission tests—already required in limited form under the PUC system but rarely enforced rigorously.

With automated, tamper-proof testing centres and the proposed network of Automated Fitness Testing Stations (AFTS) under India’s National Vehicle Scrappage Policy, this approach can be institutionalised and made foolproof.

Vehicles that meet emission norms—regardless of age—should be allowed on roads, while only gross polluters should be decommissioned. This respects environmental goals and the economic value and rights of vehicle owners.

Many countries offer financial incentives for voluntarily retiring old vehicles. A well-designed scrappage policy in India could provide meaningful trade-in discounts, tax rebates, or GST relief to encourage fleet modernisation without coercion.

Similarly, owners—especially of commercial vehicles—should be allowed to retrofit emission-control devices like DPFs or switch to cleaner fuels such as CNG or biofuels wherever feasible. This is critical for transporters, auto-rickshaw drivers and cab operators who cannot afford immediate vehicle replacement.

Studies show a small fraction of vehicles contribute a large share of emissions, particularly overloaded trucks, poorly maintained buses and unregulated construction fleets. Instead of broad bans punishing all older vehicles, policies must focus on these high-emission categories with strict inspection, monitoring and compliance, especially in pollution hotspots.

Real-time air quality data can also guide dynamic traffic and emission control strategies such as congestion pricing, low-emission zones, and time-of-day restrictions for heavy vehicles—methods successfully used in cities like London, Singapore and Stockholm.

Any attempt to phase out personal vehicles must be accompanied by robust public transport upgrades—from metro connectivity to last-mile transport—to offer viable, affordable alternatives before individuals are forced to abandon private vehicles.

Despite improvements, Delhi-NCR still suffers from patchy public transport outside city centres. Policies restricting mobility without alternatives alienate citizens and undermine environmental governance credibility.