Latest news with #MisinformationandFakeNews
Indian Express
04-07-2025
- Politics
- Indian Express
Karnataka's Fake News Bill is vague, dangerous and shows how policy-making tools can be used to serve ideological interests
The Karnataka government's proposed Misinformation and Fake News (Prohibition) Bill, 2025, has sparked widespread concern over its potential to stifle free speech and enable state overreach. The Bill prescribes harsh penalties, including up to seven years' imprisonment and fines of Rs 10 lakh for social-media users found guilty of spreading 'fake news'. It empowers a government-appointed authority, headed by the Information and Broadcasting Minister, with sweeping, unchecked powers to decide what qualifies as fake, abusive, or objectionable content. The categories are dangerously vague — terms like 'anti-feminism' or 'disrespect of Sanatan symbols' are left to arbitrary interpretation, paving the way for political censorship. Legal experts warn that the Bill's vague definitions and lack of judicial oversight invite arbitrary enforcement and censorship. It grants the Karnataka government the authority to target critics under the pretext of upholding order, threatening dissenters with prison terms and crippling fines. Far from safeguarding public discourse, the Bill sets the stage for silencing it. This legislation mirrors India's long history of intrusive state control, coming despite judicial rulings that struck down similar provisions in the IT Rules, 2021. Apart from the obvious and necessary critique that this Bill has already received, my commentary focuses more on the preference for strict authority and limited personal freedom in Indian society, which is now inflected systematically through the use of policy-making tools. Both the major Indian political parties, the Bharatiya Janata Party and the Indian National Congress, are guilty of using policies to serve ideological interests. Both fear a digital sphere they can neither predict nor fully control. Unlike traditional media, social-media platforms cannot be easily controlled by merely regulating well-known broadcasters, producers, or media personalities who are already in the public eye. Moreover, despite previous and ongoing efforts by state and national governments to enforce regulatory conditions on social-media platforms for political, ethical, and moral reasons, the algorithmic curation of digital content underscores the inability of these platforms to effectively implement bans — whether on outright posting or on the initial distribution — within and beyond the digital infrastructures that these businesses control. The speed, scale, and decentralisation of digital platforms render old models of censorship ineffective. The state's response to this situation cannot be stripping constitutional powers of the everyday citizens through legal means. The efforts by various state and national governments in India to control the public's expressions on the internet is reminiscent of the Rowlatt Act of 1919, imposed by the British Empire in India, which allowed the colonial government to imprison anyone suspected of terrorism without trial and to ban public gatherings, aiming to suppress nationalist movements. The key difference is that today the strictures are enforced by elected governments who weaponise laws and bills to reshape public opinion and justify bans on digital assembly as necessary to maintain civil order. This phenomenon is not specific to India alone. In June 2021, Hungary's government under Prime Minister Viktor Orbán passed laws that ban sharing content with minors that depicts homosexuality or gender change. While framed as protecting children, critics argue these laws curb freedom of expression and are part of broader efforts to control the media and public discourse. In 2025, the Australian government, led by Anthony Albanese, approved a social media law, banning children under 16 from using platforms like Instagram, TikTok, and Snapchat to protect mental health, sparking global debate over digital rights and youth freedoms. However, what is distinctive in India's case is the mobilising of political cadres and the public to carry out violent acts against citizens who do not conform to their viewpoint. Legal framework and mobilised political affiliates and extremists not only regulate digital space but also enact coercive measures — arrests, internet shutdowns, legal intimidation, and vigilante attacks — against individuals and communities that dissent from majoritarian ideology. A study conducted by academics Prashanth Bhatt and Kalyani Chadha in 2022 reveals how Hindu nationalist supporters of the BJP coordinate harassment campaigns on social-media platforms such as Twitter — through tactics like 'cancelling' journalists, intimidating foreign reporters, and digitally surveilling media personnel — to bolster state-led censorship and suppress dissenting voices in India. The Karnataka Bill, even before being passed, has already created conditions that embolden vigilantes. Its mere proposal legitimises intimidation tactics against cultural workers, activists, and civil society groups. Those who raise uncomfortable truths — whether about the Muda land scam or the Waqf land grab — now face threats, not just from the state's legal machinery but also from its informal enforcers. Like the IT Rules before it, the Karnataka Bill narrows the space for creative freedom and critique — both essential for a vibrant, democratic culture. India's rapid descent in global press freedom indices is no coincidence. The 2025 RSF World Press Freedom Index places India at 151 out of 180 countries, marking it as one of the most dangerous places for independent journalism. The report cites increasing censorship, harassment of journalists, politically motivated arrests, and frequent shutdowns of websites and social media platforms. These trends are especially pronounced during moments of heightened political or military tension, such as in Kashmir or Manipur or during conflicts. It is time for India's political parties to come together for an honest reckoning on the limits of the Constitution, instead of chipping away at constitutional liberties through piecemeal measures. The writer is assistant professor, Centre for Media Studies and Journalism, University of Groningen, and the author of The New Screen Ecology in India: Digital Transformation of Media
NDTV
01-07-2025
- Politics
- NDTV
Joking Hazards: How A Karnataka Bill Could Kill Online Parody, Satire
AI's integration on platforms, such as X's Grok, as a truth-seeking tool is starkly different from its use in altered content generation. This has given AI a dual role. This duality, where AI acts as a fact finder and a fact fabricator, has added layers of complexity for lawmakers. This is particularly important for the applicability of extant regulation to AI, with the emergence of unrelated laws that have already cast a long arm over its use. One of the more complex challenges here is that AI-generated falsehoods often don't arise from intent to deceive, but from how the models are trained to predict and produce language. AI tools exhibit a form of truth-bias, traditionally seen as a uniquely human trait. This refers to the cognitive tendency to assume that most interpersonal communication is honest. A series of studies have shown that large language models are even more likely to accept and reproduce false information unless prompted otherwise. Crucially, this bias is not the result of design, but a byproduct of training on vast human corpora where truthful statements are statistically dominant. This raises a pertinent question: when AI-generated content perpetuates a falsehood without intent, should its end-generator be held criminally liable? Intent must remain central to legal culpability. Karnataka's latest Misinformation and Fake News (Prohibition) Bill, 2025, is a case in point. The Bill stands on shaky constitutional ground. It ventures into a domain arguably reserved for the Union Government. Entry 31 of the Union List grants Parliament exclusive power over "posts and telegraphs; telephones, wireless, broadcasting and other like forms of communication". Regulating internet-based speech falls squarely within this ambit, raising serious questions about the state legislature's competency to enact such a law in the first place. Even if the issue of jurisdiction is kept aside, the Bill's substance is deeply flawed. While it cedes any reference to AI or synthetic media, its broad definitions of 'fake news' and 'misinformation' could be interpreted in ways that unintentionally criminalise AI-generated content in its many forms, or other forms of digital creativity. The bill defines 'fake news' broadly to include 'misquotation', 'editing audio or video which results in the distortion of facts', and 'purely fabricated content'. Yet it fails to distinguish between malicious deception and legitimate creative expression, particularly that which uses AI for satire, parody, or commentary. A voice-dubbed parody of a political sermon, even if clearly labelled as satire, could be construed under the bill as 'distorted' or 'fabricated' and made liable to prosecution. Critically, the bill's carve-out for satire and parody applies only under the definition of 'misinformation,' not under 'fake news,' which is governed by stricter penalties and lacks any protections for artistic or humorous work. This is precisely the kind of ambiguity the Supreme Court sought to guard against in Shreya Singhal v. Union of India (2015), when it struck down Section 66A of the IT Act. The court held that vague and overbroad language could restrict our freedom of expression under Article 19(1)(a). The judgment warned that unless laws specify clearly what kind of speech is punishable, creators will be forced into a culture of self-censorship. Internationally, democracies are developing more targeted and technologically aware regulations that offer better models. The European Union's AI Act, for example, focuses on transparency. It mandates that AI-generated deepfakes and other synthetic content that might be mistaken for authentic must be clearly labelled as such. Crucially, the law provides explicit exceptions for content that is obviously artistic, satirical, or creative, thereby protecting free expression while empowering citizens to identify manipulated media. Similarly, several US states have enacted laws that focus on specific, malicious uses of AI rather than banning the technology itself. Laws in states like California and Texas criminalise the creation and distribution of deceptive deepfake videos of political candidates intended to influence an election, but they are narrowly tailored, often applying only within a short period before voting. This approach aims to reduce high-stake harm, such as election interference, without imposing a blanket ban on altered content. The Karnataka Bill ignores such nuanced approaches, opting instead for a blunt instrument that threatens to criminalise a wide range of digital creativity. This legislative approach is especially unjust in a legal system that values precedent and practical interpretation. The legal maxim ignorantia juris non excusat, or that ignorance of the law is no excuse, only deepens the challenge for creators using new tools. If creators are to be held liable for violating a law, they must first understand what conduct is permitted. To be clear, the dangers of deepfakes and deceptive synthetic content are real. They can be used to damage reputation or manipulate public opinion. However, the solution cannot be to criminalise 'fake news' without regard for intent, context or creative purpose. Karnataka's policy makers would do well to recall that a well-formed legislature, as legal theorist Richard Ekins puts it, acts with the intent 'to change the law in the chosen way, for the common good'. That common good must balance the need to curb digital deception with the imperative to protect expression, even (and especially) when that expression is critical, satirical, or inconvenient. There is an imminent need to reconsider this bill.
