This is a link-enhanced, unedited version of an article that was published in TheSouthFirst on 2025-07-02.
Screenshot of article on TheSouthFirst
In late June, multiple reports suggested that a proposed legislation to regulate “misinformation” and “fake news” had been placed in front of the state cabinet in Karnataka. And as per state Law and Parliamentary Affairs Minister H K Patil was likely to be taken up for discussion. The provisions of the bill were criticised by digital rights groups (Internet Freedom Foundation, SFLC.in) calling for its revision/withdrawal and public consultations. IFF also released the draft text to the public.
There is a lot to criticise about the specific clauses based on the text we have seen in public. But before that, its very existence and approach are cause for significant concern.
A complex set of problems plagues the information ecosystem, of which “misinformation” (academically defined as sharing incorrect/false information unintentionally/without an intention to cause harm) is one of many. Potential responses to some of these challenges can be to address the to supply-side (creating and distributing) or demand-side (understand reasons for actively seeking, organically engaging) of low quality information. Such interventions can be coercive [penalties, arrests], or participatory and voluntary [awareness programmes, research support] in nature.
The Government of Karnataka (GoK), with this bill, takes the approach of limiting itself to supply-side measures with a coercive approach in the form of effectively criminalising speech by proposing prison terms/fines for those the legislation and its envisioned mechanisms will deem to have transgressed from its provisions (2-5 and 7 years), or facilitated these transgressions (upto 2 years).
GoK is hardly the first to attempt this. Legal scholars have sought to explain why this is fraught. Besides, recent history suggests that such efforts generally result in targeting dissenting/opposing views irrespective of the stated intentions of those enacting them. The International Press Institute noted that many countries attempted “anti-fake news” legislation following the onset of COVID-19, and subsequently tracked over 400 cases of media freedom violations between February and August, 2020. The Anti-Fake News Lawfare project attempts to collate instances of governments using laws ostensibly meant to counter disinformation being used against journalists, academics and activists. The Center for International Media Assistance has identified 4 kinds of legal penalties that can impact press freedom, 3 of which (imprisonment, fines, information removal/correction) are in GoK’s version. Where imprisonment is a possibility, it goes further by adding hurdles to seeking bail.
Thus, there is little, if anything, to suggest this iteration will be different — other than, perhaps, a (misplaced) partisan belief in its proposers.
It largely relies on a true-false frame. Scholars such as Samuel Woolley and Renée DiResta have argued that sole reliance on this frame is insufficient since interpretations or opinions, whether genuine or with malicious intent cannot always be neatly categorised along this frame. This frame is also inadequate in situations where information is emergent, scarce, or lacking verifiability as the recent 4-day India-Pakistan conflict demonstrated. What happens then?
Worryingly, Karnataka’s approach goes beyond even what the Union Government attempted to with amendments to the IT Rules in 2023 (since ruled unconstitutional by the Bombay High Court) imposing obligations on internet intermediaries to act against information flagged by a union government-run fact-checking unit. As problematic as the attempt was, it purportedly sought to limit its purview to information about the business of the Union Government (even if it did not define what that meant). GoK, has seemingly dispensed with any notion of including limitations/safeguards. The bill seeks a “complete prohibition on ‘fake news’ on social media platforms” and entrusts a 6-member regulatory authority under direct executive control to do this.
The bill also suffers from significant definitional deficiencies, exacerbating the problems of the flawed approach. Setting aside an admittedly pedantic grouse that the text spells “mis-information” incorrectly 4 times, it inexplicably doesn’t even define the term “misinformation” properly. The bill diverges from most academic/policy-related definitions of the term that exclude knowledge of inaccuracy or intention to cause harm and instead refers to “knowingly and recklessly” sharing information. While terms such as misinformation and disinformation can (unfortunately) be used interchangeably in public discourse, it is unforgivable for a legislative instrument to incorrectly define what it seeks to regulate.
Through the regulatory authority it seeks to prohibit information that is “anti-feminism”, “disrespect(s) … Sanatan Symbols and beliefs” and ensure publication of information based only on “authentic research” on specific subjects with no effort to clarify what any of these mean. Plus, communication is defined so broadly and misunderstands the nature of information flows on the internet that it has extra-territorial implications beyond Karnataka and paves the way for greater speech restrictions as a result of aggressive compliance by social media platforms.
Meanwhile, state minister for IT/BT, Priyank Kharge has sought to downplay apprehensions/confusion/concerns alluding to “misinformation” about the bill on Twitter/X. In an interview with The Economic Times he claimed that the “11-page document” was not “the draft” but the “opinion of a few people in the law department,” and also clarified that there will be a “wider level of consultations”.
Despite claims that this version will undergo additional consultation (without explicitly specifying whether these will be public or not), its potential inclusion for discussion at the level of the state cabinet suggests, in my opinion, that there may be some consensus on the broad approach while certain specifics may be tweaked. So efforts to dismiss criticism on the grounds that it is not a final draft come across as doublespeak. To me, the substance of this version is indicative of either an inability to grasp the complex nature of the issues the administration seeks to govern, or worse, disregard for them. GoK, and indeed the whole country, would be better served facilitating a deeper understanding of the issues in the information ecosystem. It could do this by supporting/encouraging research, which there is a dearth of in the Indian context. Instead of criminalising speech it should strive to undertake more awareness efforts, improve grievance redressal and consider non-coercive ways to aid/support those impacted by false claims instead of exemplifying the age-old politician’s fallacy of seeking to do “something” for the sake of it.
Placed in the broader political economy context these issues make selective, arbitrary, and flawed enforcement inevitable. That it would be a result of the actions of the principal opposition is a major setback for speech and expression at a time when many institutions are simultaneously encroaching/questioning its relevance. It remains to be seen whether this legislation, if enacted, will survive judicial review. But the greater damage of irrevocably shifting the Overton window on speech and expression issues in the country will already have been done. While political actors continue to operate within a spectrum of malice and incompetence, it is often ordinary people, especially vulnerable ones, that suffer.