NEW DELHI — Most agricultural policy chases averages. The PM Dhan-Dhaanya Krishi Yojana does the opposite: it goes looking for the places the averages hide. A year after the Union Cabinet cleared it, the scheme’s premise remains refreshingly honest — that the fastest way to lift Indian farming is to concentrate on the districts where it is weakest, not the ones where it already thrives.

The design

The numbers set the scale. The Cabinet approved the scheme in July 2025 with an outlay of around ₹24,000 crore a year for six years, targeting 100 districts and an estimated 1.7 crore farmers. Crucially, those districts are not chosen by politics but by data: the selection leans on three markers of distress — low agricultural productivity, low cropping intensity and poor access to credit. At least one district is picked from every state, and the states with the most selected districts — Uttar Pradesh with twelve, Maharashtra with nine, Madhya Pradesh and Rajasthan with eight each — are simply those with the most ground to make up.

Convergence, not another silo

The smartest thing about the scheme may be what it does not do: create yet another standalone bureaucracy. Instead, it is built by converging 36 existing schemes across 11 departments, layering in state programmes and private partnerships on top. It is modelled explicitly on the Aspirational Districts Programme — the governance experiment that used ranking, competition and close monitoring to pull India’s most backward districts up on health and education indicators. Applying that same playbook to agriculture is a bet that what worked for schools and clinics can work for soil and seed.

What it is meant to change

On the ground, the goals are concrete: raise productivity, push crop diversification and sustainable practices, build post-harvest storage at the panchayat and block level, improve irrigation, and widen access to both short- and long-term credit. The governance runs through committees at the district, state and national levels — and, tellingly, the District Dhan Dhaanya Samiti that finalises each district’s plan is to include progressive farmers themselves, not just officials. Plans written with farmers in the room tend to survive contact with the field better than plans written only in state capitals.

The test ahead

A year in, the honest assessment is that the architecture is sound and the proof is still to come; a six-year scheme cannot be judged on its first rabi season. Storage sheds, irrigation channels and credit lines take time to translate into higher incomes, and convergence schemes live or die on the quality of local implementation. But the direction is the right one. For decades, Indian agricultural policy has been accused of helping the surplus-producing farmer of Punjab more than the subsistence farmer of a forgotten district in the east. A scheme that deliberately starts at the bottom of the table — and measures itself against the distance it closes — is a corrective worth watching, and worth getting right.