New Delhi: While the critique of the neoliberal assault on labour often focuses on external barricades like the right to strike, there exists a quieter, more pervasive violence that operates within the factory walls — a “micro-physics of power“, to borrow Foucault’s phrase, that disciplines the worker’s body and mind every single hour of the shift. The Draft Industrial Relations (Central) Rules, 2025, through its Model Standing Orders (Schedule B), has expanded the definition of “misconduct” to a degree that critics argue effectively criminalises the human condition of the worker.If the Industrial Relations Code functions as the constitution of the workplace, the Standing Orders are its penal code. The new definitions suggest a regime that disciplines the worker’s body and mind, punishing them for existing as human beings rather than automatons.The weaponisation of exhaustionA significant addition to the list of misconducts is “go-slow”. To the corporate eye, go-slow is an insidious sabotage of productivity. However, viewed from the shop floor, it takes on a different meaning.In an era where production targets are algorithmically determined and pushed to physiological limits, “go-slow” is often the body’s only defence against collapse. It is the collective refusal to work at an unsafe pace. By categorising “go-slow” as misconduct warranting dismissal, the rules mandate maximum extraction of labour. They deny the biological reality of fatigue. If a group of workers slows down because the heat is unbearable or machinery is dangerous, they are treated as committing a crime. The law thus sides with the machine against the metabolism of the worker.The trap of literacyClause 24(3)(t) categorises the “refusal to accept any charge-sheet or order” as misconduct.This is a cynical trap for the unlettered worker. When a manager thrusts a legal notice – often in bureaucratic language – at a worker, their instinct, born of illiteracy and fear, is to refuse to sign it without a union representative present. Under this rule, that instinct for self-preservation becomes a firing offence. The worker is punished not for the act itself, but for their inability to navigate the textual violence of the bureaucracy.The ‘habitual’ offenderThe rigid logic of the rules is most visible in its definition of the “habitual” offender. The text defines “habitual” as committing a misconduct “three or more times in a period of 12 months”.Apply this to “late attendance”. In the lived reality of the Indian worker – who navigates crumbling public transport and the constant crises of poverty – punctuality is often a luxury. Under these rules, a worker who is late three times in a year due to a delayed train or a sick child is classified as a “habitual offender”, liable for the ultimate economic capital punishment: dismissal. This provision erases the sociological context of the working class, demanding mechanical precision from lives the State has abandoned to instability.The gag order on safetyClause 24(3)(s) classifies the disclosure of “confidential information” regarding the “working or process” of the establishment as misconduct.This is effectively an anti-whistleblower clause. In industries prone to chemical leaks and accidents, a worker who photographs a blocked fire exit or a leaking valve to show a journalist is technically “disclosing process information”. By prioritising “trade secrets” over safety, the law effectively criminalises the act of preventing a disaster.The double-edged sword of ‘harassment’The rules include “sexual harassment” within the ambit of misconduct, linking the definition to the Sexual Harassment of Women at Workplace Act, 2013.However, a close reading reveals a dangerous trap. It opens the door for the weaponisation of “false complaints”. In establishments where Internal Committees (ICs) are dominated by management loyalists, the Standing Orders can be turned against the victim.Also read: How the Draft Social Security Rules Weaken Maternity RightsIf an IC dismisses a complaint as “false”, the female worker can be charged with misconduct. This creates a chilling effect, forcing her to weigh the trauma of harassment against the risk of termination. The law ostensibly designed to protect her dignity becomes the instrument that silences her.The digital fortressThe rules introduce misconducts related to “unauthorised access” to IT systems. In the modern factory, information is power. If a worker accesses the payroll system to prove wage theft, or downloads safety logs to prove negligence, this act of truth-telling is now formally categorised as “misconduct”.This creates a digital fortress around the employer’s illegalities. It ensures that while the State demands transparency from the union via digital portals, the management’s data remains private property; the worker’s dissent, however, is a public record.Finally, the expansion of “misconduct” in the 2025 rules is not about maintaining order; it is about establishing a regime of total subjugation. By blurring the lines between inefficiency and criminality, the State hands the employer a legal whip. The worker today faces a stark reality: inside the factory gates, the constitution of India does not apply; only the Standing Orders do. And under these orders, to be tired, to be late, or to be vulnerable is to be guilty.