From December 18 onwards, a Delhi commuter may pull into a petrol pump as usual, only to be silently refused fuel: no argument, no explanation, no warning. A camera will scan the vehicle, detect a missing Pollution Under Control (PUC) certificate, and the nozzle simply won’t turn on. In the midst of a pollution emergency, Delhi has opted for automation over judgment, restriction over reform. The intention is understandable.
Delhi’s air is dangerous, and vehicular emissions are part of the problem. But policies that look efficient on paper can still fail in practice, especially when they ignore how people actually move, work, and live in a city of over 30 million. PUC-based fuel denial assumes three things: that PUC certificates accurately reflect real -world emissions, that compliance is easy and accessible, and that people denied fuel have viable alternatives. None of these assumptions holds. PUC testing in India is widely recognised as inconsistent.
Certificates are issued based on brief, stationary tests that fail to capture emissions from congestion, idling, poor fuel quality, or engine stress in real driving conditions. A car can pass a PUC test and still pollute heavily in stop-and-go traffic. Using such a blunt proxy to determine access to fuel risks penalising formality rather than pollution. Then there is the issue of scale.
Over eight lakh vehicle owners in Delhi reportedly lack valid PUC certificates. Giving them one day to comply is not environmental urgency, it is administrative shock therapy. For gig workers, delivery drivers, tradespeople, and small business owners, a vehicle is not a lifestyle choice; it is a livelihood. Denying fuel does not clean the air if it simply pushes economic activity into chaos or informality. This approach also confuses enforcement with outcomes. If denying fuel were enough, Delhi’s air would have improved long ago. The city already cycles through GRAP restrictions, construction bans, work-from-home mandates, and vehicle limits every winter. Yet the crisis returns, because the underlying system has not changed. A useful comparison comes from cities that reduced traffic emissions not by sudden cut-offs, but by implementing gradual reforms.
Tokyo reduced vehicle emissions not through blanket bans, but by removing dependence on personal vehicles. Extensive and efficient public transport, strict inspection standards and long-term planning reduced traffic organically. Restrictions were embedded within a system that already worked for consumers. Cleaner air followed not from sudden cut-offs, but from sustained investment in alternatives. Delhi, by contrast, is still catching up. Bus availability remains insufficient. Last-mile connectivity is unreliable. EV adoption is encouraged rhetorically but constrained by charging gaps and policy uncertainty. Instead of making cleaner choices easier, policy keeps narrowing choices altogether. There is also a risk policymakers underestimate: displacement.
When compliance becomes unpredictable, behaviour does not disappear; it adapts. Vehicles refuel outside city limits. Certificates become a paperwork game. Pollution shifts rather than shrinks. Clean air cannot be enforced like a toll booth. None of this argues for leniency toward polluters. It argues for smarter design. If the goal is to reduce polluting vehicles, then invest first in mobility alternatives, upgrade testing to reflect real-world emissions, and use pricing and incentives that reward cleaner behavior. Enforcement should reinforce reform, not replace it. Automation can deny fuel. Only policy can deliver clean air. Delhi needs less autopilot and more consideration of how consumers actually navigate the city. If Delhi wants cleaner air, it should start by making buses and metros frequent, PUC testing credible, and electric vehicles cheaper, not by turning petrol pumps into punishment booths.
Originally published here
