Torture has been an intrinsic part of human civilization, being used for various purposes by individuals, agencies, governments, etc at some point of time or the other. Though it is now illegal in most parts of the world, the practice still continues – brazenly by some and clandestinely by others. In a modern context, the word is used informally to connote any activity which causes discomfort, though more mental than physical. In that sense, the form – that piece of paper asking for sundry details – must surely rank as one of the best devices of torture created in modern times. It is a stroke of sheer genius; a simplistic but powerful means of exerting power over the person at the receiving end who has no choice but to bow to the diktat of the people asking for whatever piece of information they desire, who then proceed to take decisions based on their discretion, leaving one at the mercy of their whims. The excuse cited would be that these need to be done for formality’s sake; often the underlying reason is a lack of common sense more than a sense of propriety.
Ordinarily, this shouldn’t be an issue to cause distress. The purpose for asking information is usually for legitimate reasons, and using a form can potentially increase efficiency of data collection, as well as serve as a statement of record. Unfortunately matters are never as black and white as the paper they originate from. A good form asks for precise pieces of information, and is structured correctly so as to make filling it a breeze. There should be no scope for confusion while entering details into it, and none for interpretation when reading it. This is where most of the problems happen. A typical case is the name; there being several sources and styles of representation (especially in South India, which is a wonderful topic on its own and one that has produced numerous humorous anecdotes), the onus is on the form to clearly define the format. Sadly, many will ask for simply the name – now, is it just the given name, or the surname, or both? Is it the first name followed by the surname or the other way around? Where does the middle name fit in? Should it be entered as per the passport, driving license, PAN card, or some other standard or non-standard proof of one’s name? (and mind you, each of these can indeed have your name mentioned in different ways!) Another common irritant is the lack of space. One could certainly blame the people who named you for a long name, but it’s not your fault if the municipal authorities chose to name your area of residence imprudently. They can’t pick absurdly long names, divide areas into multiple blocks and stages, subdivide them further into crosses and mains, and expect all of that to fit into a form. And then there are those little boxes. Some of them are so small, you’d need a microscope to write into them.
A major problem with structure is redundant information. Present and permanent house addresses are often asked, with many forms not having an option to say that the latter is the same as the former. Writing ‘same as the above’ is mostly asking for trouble. Then there are those questions that ask the same details about family members, by which time you either enter a state of submission and accept it as your bad fate, or go into violent and uncontrollable rage that harms no one except yourself. A related form of redundancy is having to fill forms in duplicate (or worse still, triplicate), and in some cases each form needs to be filled by hand, without the use of carbon paper.
The advent of computers and the internet has resulted in the move from paper-based forms to online forms, that can be typed-in. These are much better, and in some cases prompt and guide the user with context-specific help that makes it easy to fill the forms, not to mention the fact that the ‘copy-and-paste’ feature feels like a godsend (of course, there are the odd websites that sadistically disable it, ensuring every entry is manually done). However, the transition is taking much longer than thought, with paper forms still the preferred system in many places. Frustratingly, there are mixed-usage systems where one could choose to submit the form online, but the final application still needs to be a printout handed over in person.
One part of the form that seems to offer a little leniency is the photo. Except for visa applications (where each country has their idiosyncratic requirements), ‘passport’ photos of varying facial proportions, backgrounds and slight size differences are generally tolerated (though a stamp-size photo cannot pass off as its larger sibling as some people try to insist).
Forms without complete instructions also leave a question unanswered: to what extent are certain inconsistencies tolerable? What constitutes an entry as acceptable or unacceptable? The absence of watertight criteria leaves greater room for interpretation, and possible insistence on the part of the person accepting the form that an unspecified requirement be followed. In such cases, and where user error could also result in a form being filled incorrectly, the worst fears of having to fill the form afresh could be realized.
What is to be done about this sordid saga then? Should we eat humble pie and robotically enter what is asked for, or should the masses revolt against this unreasonable tyranny of informational oppression? In this day and age where passions and arguments can be easily stirred and fomented over the most of trivial of issues, one wonders whether it would be prudent to raise the question of the form at all. Maybe it could piggyback on other topics that have a common subtext – the raging issue of intolerance would be apt, perhaps?