The Invisible Workforce: Why We Need to Talk About Field Professionals in India’s Social Sector

“They say we are frontline workers, that we should be celebrated. But when we are sick they refuse us admission and leave us to die. It feels terrible to be treated this way, like we don’t matter, our lives don’t matter.”, says Archana Ghugare, an ASHA in a village in Maharashtra.

India’s social impact ecosystem is praised for its tech innovations, CSR funding, and scale-focused solutions. According to the India Philanthropy Report by Dasra, in FY 2023, social sector spending stood at ₹ 23 lakh crore, growing at a steady 13% annually. Despite this boom in funding, one part of the story is often overlooked - the field professionals. Like in many sectors in India, they are under-recognized, underpaid, and overworked. 

It is about time for us to focus our attention on more important questions. Is there dignity, equity, and visibility for those closest to the change we seek?

Who is a field professional?

Before we dive into the challenges, let’s understand who field professionals really are.

A field professional in social impact is someone who works directly with communities or individuals to address social issues. They include community mobilizers, health workers, waste collectors, forest guards, educators, climate trainers, and data collectors. Most come from the same communities they serve.

India has over 1 million ASHA workers, 2.5 million Anganwadi workers, and numerous NGO-appointed field staff (MoHFW, 2021, Ministry of WCD). These professionals form the last-mile bridge between policy and people.

Let’s examine some of the harsh realities they face: starting with the lack of equal pay and dignity in their work.

Most ASHA workers earn as little as ₹2,500 per month ($30‑40). Similarly, most field professionals in India enjoy limited job security, minimal healthcare, and very few employee benefits. ASHA workers are the backbone of India’s rural healthcare system. Yet they remain undervalued, overworked, and unprotected. During

COVID-19, over 9 lakh ASHAs were deployed across states as frontline health responders, yet many were denied basic safety gear, fair wages, or even recognition. When they asked for salaries, PPE, and legal protections, they were met with police threats, notices, and even criminal charges. The neglect of ASHA workers reflects a broader societal pattern.

Most field professionals in India have to face class, caste, and gender biases in their place of work. A report by The CSR Journal India, shows how the “NGO savior” narrative often sidelines those who do the daily, relational work of change. NGOs often focus on strategy teams and leadership, while sidelining those working directly in the field. In meetings, conferences, and panels the focus is on English and corporate jargon. This culture leaves little space for “leaders” to empathetically understand what the on-ground challenges are. Many field staff do not communicate in English or write formal reports. As a result, their knowledge is often left undocumented and unacknowledged.

Field roles are treated as “support” staff in budgets, not core assets. CSR funders and NGO leadership rarely ask for field staff wellbeing metrics. Career growth is limited. Most field staff peak at the level of Senior Executive. Upskilling is rare and often top-down. 86% of NGOs said they get little or no support to build their capacity. Despite being central to impact, these roles still lack basic protections like minimum wage, grievance redressal, or social security.

This neglect is not inevitable. Other countries have taken steps to address similar challenges. Globally, countries like Brazil and South Africa have shown how respectfully incorporating community health workers into public systems with fair wages, policy protections, and leadership roles, can strengthen both social justice and service delivery.

Inspired by such global examples, we must ask: what would it take to ensure visibility and value for field professionals in India? What would happen when we do indeed listen to the field workers?

Field professionals drive real change. Ignoring them is unethical and weakens the very impact NGOs aim to create. If we really listen to the field staff, we will be bringing recognition, respect, and redistribution to the organisation and community.

1. Recognition can begin by making meetings and communications inclusive by using local languages and accessible formats. The biggest cheerleader for recognition is representation. NGOs working in smaller towns should ensure diverse, local representation in their offices. Other simple practices include crediting field professionals generously in impact reports, pitch decks, and media stories to encourage field staff to share their voices.
2. Respect, in action, can look like fighting for dignified living wages (₹15,000+/month) and providing financial and social safety nets. For context, the average minimum wage for Semi-skilled workers in India is ₹18,499 to ₹22,568 per month. Decision-making should flow from the ground up. Field staff should be part of feedback loops and strategy setting.
3. Redistribution must become the bedrock of how we value and structure fieldwork. We must move beyond token rewards. True redistribution means stable, long-term budgets for field roles. Field professionals deserve core salaries, not just project-based leftovers. NGO and Donor leadership must use their goodwill to bring the donor’s focus from outputs to people. National schemes like the National Health Mission and Swachh Bharat Mission 2.0 must formally recognise grassroots workers

All these actions point to a larger cultural shift that the sector urgently needs. Fieldwork isn’t a pathway to strategy. It is the strategy. And respect is not a campaign, it’s culture. The Indian social impact sector must shift the current reality of field professionals from the margins to the middle. It is impossible to build systems of equity using work structures that take more than they give. The invisible workforce is invisible because we have failed to look closely enough. So, I leave you with this: how fair is it to celebrate impact while ignoring those who make it possible?