India, June 28 -- Institutions, like individuals, acquire reputations. Some earn trust through consistency and transparency. Others spend years accumulating controversy. The Table Tennis Federation of India (TTFI) has struggled to escape the latter characterisation. Across administrations, personalities and factions, the federation has repeatedly found itself in courtrooms, embroiled in internal disputes, subject to inquiries and, at one recent point, placed under a Committee of Administrators. The details have varied, but the public reading of the institution has remained remarkably consistent. It is against this backdrop that the latest controversy involving player Manika Batra must be understood. The immediate issue concerns Batra's exclusion from India's table tennis squad (though she is in the reserve list) for the 2026 Asian Games to be held in Aichi and Nagoya, Japan, from September 19 to October 4. Initially, she wanted to seek judicial intervention, but has now decided "put the sword down" after being left "mentally exhausted" by the fight; Batra, though, has alleged violation of the federation's constitution which threatens to turn what would have been a routine selection dispute into a wider conversation about credibility and trust. On paper, the matter appears straightforward. The selection criteria relied on a weighted combination of domestic andinternational performances translated into points. By that metric, Batra reportedlyfell short of the qualifying threshold bythree points. Ordinarily, that would have settled the matter. But then, normalcy has rarely been the definingcharacteristic of Indian tabletennis administration. The reason this controversy refuses to disappear is that Batra is not merely another player seeking selection. She is India's most accomplished international table tennis player of the modern era, the face of the sport for an entire generationand arguably the country's strongest medal prospect in major internationalcompetitions. Her victories over highly ranked Chinese players, her performances at the Commonwealth Games and continental events, and her ability to deliver underpressure have earned her a reputation beyond rankings and spreadsheets. Several former players who I spoke with and close observers of the sport continue to regard her as India's best medal hope despite theoutcome of the selection process. One may agree or disagree with that assessment, but it cannot simply be dismissed. Naturally, therefore, the debate is not about whether Batra is good enough to represent India. She clearly is. Nor is it about whether a points-based system should exist: Objective criteria are necessary in any selection process. The real question is whether a rigid interpretation of those criteria serves the broader purpose for which they were created. This brings us to the role of the selection committee. If selection were a purely mechanical exercise, there would be little need for selectors. A spreadsheet or, in today's world, an Artificial Intelligence programme could calculate the rankings, assign the points, and announce the squad. However, every serious sporting system continues to rely on selectors, many of them former players. Why? Because sport cannot be reduced to arithmetic. Form, experience, fitness, temperament, opposition and context, all matter. The very existence of a selection committee acknowledges that judgement has a role to play alongside measurable performance. But here lies the catch. Judgement inevitably involves discretion and discretion inevitably requires trust. The issue, therefore, is not whether discretion exists. The issue is whether those entrusted with exercising it command sufficient confidence for their decisions to be accepted without controversy. The answer, in my humble view, lies not in Batra's present but in the federation's past. To fully grasp the current controversy, one must get a glimpse of the history of Indian table tennis administration. For decades, the sport has been burdened by controversies that have little to do with table tennis and everything to do with administration. The problem is not opacity alone. It is also institutional imagination. Chak De! India captured this brilliantly through an administrator who could not conceive of the women's hockey national team as a contender and, therefore, saw little reason to think seriously about its prospects. Institutions that stop believing in excellence are more likely to be preoccupied with procedure and internal politics. The player ceases to be the purpose and, unfortunately, I feel this has haunted more than one Indian sports federation. The nadir for TTFI came in 2022 when the Delhi High Court appointed a Committee of Administrators under Justice Gita Mittal to oversee the federation's affairs. Such intervention is usually a sign of serious problems. The episode naturally colours how players and observers alike interpret the federation's decisions even today. No one disputes the federation's right to establish selection criteria. Nor does anyone dispute the importance of objective standards. The question is whether, in this particular case, the rules have merely been applied or whether they have become a convenient instrument through which a predetermined outcome has been achieved. Batra's own history with the federation is also worth recalling. In 2021, she publicly challenged the federation and the national coaching establishment, raising questions about coaching arrangements and governance practices. The dispute escalated into a legal battle, attracted national attention and became part of the sequence of events that eventually brought greater judicial scrutiny upon the federation itself. Whether one agreed with her position or not, the episode established that Batra was willing to challenge authority when she believed something was amiss. Thus, her relationship with TTFI had become strained long before the present selection controversy emerged. It is, therefore, relevant to conduct asimple thought experiment. Had Batra enjoyed a warm relationship with thefederation, in other words, had she notchallenged authority, not approached the courts and never publicly questioned administrative decisions, would the same outcome have followed? Stated differently, had shebeen subservient would the same outcome have occurred? No one can answer that question with certainty. But the fact thatso many informed observers are askingit speaks volumes about the credibility of the institution itself. The point isn't necessarily that Batra has been wronged. The point is that the federation's history has made such suspicions entirely predictable. Institutions spend years building trust and only a few moments squandering it. When institutions enjoy credibility, discretion is accepted even when outcomes are unpopular. When institutions suffer from a credibility deficit, every exercise of discretion becomes suspect, generating allegations of favouritism. The Batra controversy is, therefore, not about three ranking points. It is about three ranking points being asked to carry the weight of years of institutional baggage. Until that baggage is confronted rather than merely managed, controversies will come and go along with office bearers and court cases. The names will change as might the headlines. The questions, unfortunately, might remain the same. As maestro Mirza Ghalib noted, "Bazicha-e-atfal hai duniya mire aage, Hota hai shab-o-roz tamasha mire aage."(The world before me is but a children's playground; day and night the same spectacle unfolds before my eyes.)...