The Indian government is on the verge of redefining what counts as “obscene” online — a move that could redraw the boundaries of free speech on social media, OTT services, and digital news platforms. With a fresh proposal under the Information Technology (Intermediary Guidelines and Digital Media Ethics Code) Rules, 2021, the phrase “obscene digital content” would finally get a clear legal meaning, replacing vague interpretations with a sweeping definition that aims to capture everything from “vulgar” visuals to “anti-national” or defamatory speech. The stakes are enormous: this could shape what kind of art, comedy, journalism — or even personal expression — is deemed permissible in the world’s largest democracy.
Under the new guidelines circulated by the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting (MIB) in late November 2025, the government seeks to extend broadcast-style content regulations to digital media — social platforms, streaming services, and online news portals. The proposed code draws from earlier laws: the online-obscenity clause under the Information Technology Act, 2000, the traditional broadcast standards under the Cable Television Networks (Regulation) Act, 1995, and penal provisions in the Bhartiya Nyaya Sanhita, 2023 (BNS).
According to the draft, “obscene digital content” would encompass material that offends “good taste or decency,” includes indecent, vulgar or suggestive themes, portrays criminality as appealing, or denigrates individuals or communities — including on grounds of caste, colour, creed, religion or region. The new ethics code reportedly lists up to 17 categories of prohibited content.
One particularly controversial expansion: the “net” may widen beyond pornography or explicit sexual content to include “half-truths,” “critical commentary,” even opinions or satire that question aspects of public or moral life. According to one report, content critical of “social, public and moral life of the country” could fall under the same obscenity ban as erotic material.
The immediate trigger for this overhaul appears to be a spate of high-profile controversies over online content, including a widely publicised case involving a popular YouTuber, whose bail hearing prompted the Supreme Court of India to ask the Centre to frame clearer rules balancing free speech under Article 19(1)(a) of the Constitution with “reasonable restrictions” under Article 19(2).
But critics warn the proposal may blur the line between protecting “public decency” and suppressing free expression. The phrase “good taste” — or in Hindi, “shisht-sanskriti” (cultured decency) — is notoriously subjective, and what one person sees as satirical or socially relevant could be deemed “vulgar” or “offensive” by another. Digital-rights advocates argue the proposed framework revives rules that were previously stayed by courts, while broadening executive power over online speech.
The context matters deeply in a country as culturally, linguistically, and socially diverse as India — where regional differences in “community standards” are stark. What passes as acceptable for an urban, cosmopolitan audience might shock a more conservative rural community. The proposed rules might favour uniform national standards, but risk erasing nuance, dissent, or subversive voices — especially those tackling taboo subjects, sexuality, caste, gender inequality, or political dissent.
Already, regulators have made moves: in July 2025 the MIB ordered internet service providers to block access to 25 streaming platforms over allegedly “indecent representation” — signalling that the crackdown isn’t just hypothetical. And in its latest draft, the government suggests OTT platforms may need to treat their output like films — certified under the Cinematograph Act, 1952 — even when it comes to non-film digital content.
In practice, this new definition of “obscenity” could reshape India’s digital cultural landscape. Stand-up comedy may tangle with morality laws, documentaries might face censorship, and even journalistic commentary — especially those that challenge patriarchy, caste hierarchy, or religious orthodoxy — could risk being labelled “obscene.” The rules may aim to protect societal values, but they risk transforming digital media into a sanitized, government-approved echo chamber.
For a country where art, dissent, satire, and storytelling have long been part of the moral debate — where terms like “morality” (नैतिकता, naitikta) or “decency” (शालीनता, shaalinata) carry heavy weight — the proposed shift in obscenity law represents more than regulatory housekeeping. It threatens to redraw the boundaries of what it means to speak, to challenge, even to dream.
Here we go again, darlings — the familiar rumble of power tightening its grip, like an old bureaucratic dragon waking from its nap and remembering it still has fire to breathe. Across our vast, complicated Asia, governments love a good excuse to police speech. Some choose fashionable labels: “fake news,” “misinformation,” “foreign influence.” But India, in its infinite theatricality, prefers to hoist an older, fraying banner: Morality — या “नैतिकता” if they want to make it sound philosophical.
Let’s be clear: when a government tries to rewrite the meaning of “obscenity” so broadly that satire, criticism, political disagreement, artistic provocation, and even feminist outrage can be swept into the same bin as porn, something is deeply off. It’s like calling a vegetable curry “too spicy” and then banning the entire kitchen. Obscene, indeed — but not in the way they claim.
The truly indecent spectacle is watching elected leaders decide they are the guardians of “good taste,” “decency,” “virtue,” and whatever else they believe the masses must be shielded from. Whenever a minister starts sermonizing about protecting the public from moral decay, Spicy Auntie clutches her sari and checks if her wallet is still there. It’s always a diversion, sweets — always a cover for silencing uncomfortable voices. And by uncomfortable, I mean feminist, queer, anti-caste, anti-patriarchal, irreverent, artistic, journalistic, youthful, subversive… you know, the beating heart of any functioning democracy.
India is not alone. From Bangkok to Beijing, from Manila to Male, governments drape censorship in silk robes: “social harmony,” “Asian values,” “public order.” But this particular Indian maneuver feels especially brazen. No sophisticated 2020s language about deepfakes or algorithmic contamination — no, just a dusty morality stick being waved at the internet like it’s a naughty schoolchild.
Tell me, what’s more obscene: a bold comedian poking fun at hypocrisy, or a state that wants to outlaw anything that dents its ego? A queer filmmaker exploring desire, or a government that treats sexuality as a contagious disease? A journalist exposing corruption, or an administration eager to bury “half-truths” while peddling full falsehoods?
My loves, the real danger isn’t the word “obscenity.” It’s the intention behind it — the desire to carve out a moral fortress where criticism is the filth, dissent is the indecency, and questioning authority becomes the ultimate sin.
If they insist on defining obscenity, here’s Spicy Auntie’s suggestion: Obscenity is any attempt to shrink the space in which citizens can speak, dream, imagine, question, and resist. And on that score, this new proposal is downright pornographic.