Originally published on Global Voices

Samay Raina, the host of the India's Got Latent show on YouTube. Image via Wikimedia Commons by Ajaynaik0077. CC BY-SA 4.0.

India’s Supreme Court delivered a landmark ruling on August 25, 2025, involving both comedians and social media influencers. The court directed stand-up comedians Samay Raina, Vipul Goyal, Balraj Paramjeet Singh Ghai, Nishant Jagdish Tanwar, and Sonali Thakkar to issue public apologies to the complainants for remarks they made in a YouTube video, which critics say mock people with disabilities.

The court was hearing three cases, including two petitions filed by YouTubers Ranveer Allahabadia and Ashish Chanchlani seeking to consolidate multiple First Information Reports (police complaints in India) lodged against them in connection with India’s Got Latent, a reality talent show. The duo stirred controversy over a joke about parents and sex. The third case was a petition filed by M/s SMA Cure Foundation against comedians Samay Raina, Vipul Goyal, Balraj Paramjeet Singh Ghai, and Sonali Thakkar.

“Something crazy”

The order, delivered by the Supreme Court of India on August 25, 2025, stemmed from a writ petition (W.P.(C) No. 460/2025) filed by the Cure SMA Foundation of India — an advocacy NGO focused on spinal muscular atrophy (SMA), a rare genetic disorder that causes severe physical disabilities. The Foundation accused the comedians of mocking people with SMA and other disabilities in an episode of India’s Got Latent on YouTube.

The petition drew attention to the immense cost of SMA treatment — particularly the INR 16 crore (equivalent to USD 1.81 million) gene therapy injection for infants. During the show, comedian Samay Raina referenced a real-life charity campaign to save a two-month-old infant with SMA who required gene therapy. During the show, he described it as “something crazy” happening, and then made a joke that the mother would enjoy the financial windfall of donations over the child’s treatment.

In another instance, Raina was seen speaking with a visually impaired person and asked, “Which of your eyes should I look into?” — a remark some perceived as belittling the contestant’s blindness by mocking their inability to make eye contact.

Regulating content created for commercial purposes

Comedy proponents argue that satire is an important instrument of democracies, while critics allege that some comedians are crossing moral boundaries and social norms. The rise of stand-up comedy and influencer culture in India, amplified by YouTube’s vast reach, has further expanded this debate.

With the latest ruling, the Court has decreed that creators carry added responsibility for content created for commercial purposes.

The Division Bench of Justices Surya Kant and Joymalya Bagchi directed the government to frame guidelines for regulating digital content. These rules, the Court said, must strike a careful balance between freedom of expression and the dignity of marginalized communities. It further noted that the growing commercialization of digital platforms could have a chilling effect on speech, underscoring the need for new norms to ensure that expression remains responsible — especially when driven by commercial interests.

Judicial directive and constitutional framework

The Supreme Court's decision on August 25, 2025, holds significant social weight in India because it shows how the courts are pushing for more accountability in digital spaces, where critics say stand-up comedians and influencers often blur lines between humor and harm.

The order directly addresses India’s constitutional framework. Article 19(1)(a) of the Constitution guarantees freedom of speech, while Article 19(2) allows for reasonable restrictions in the interest of public order, morality, and decency. Article 21 extends this protection to life and personal liberty, which the courts interpret as a right to the dignity of marginalized individuals.

The Court observed that satire and humor are protected, but commercial content that breaches people’s dignity is not protected and could potentially be subject to further regulation. As digital satire becomes more mainstream and platforms like YouTube host increasingly provocative content, this judgment appears to signal a push toward greater caution among creators.

The August 2025 decision is part of a larger trend of controversies surrounding comedians and free speech in India, where humor has often triggered both public backlash and legal scrutiny.

In 2021, comedian Munawar Faruqui was arrested and had shows canceled following allegations of insulting religious sentiments. Similarly, comedian Kunal Kamra faced contempt proceedings for releasing satirical commentary on political leaders, which many viewed as an example of judicial overreach into artistic speech. Earlier, in 2015, the comedy group All India Bakchod (AIB) faced a First Information Report (FIR) over its Knockout roast, and were accused of obscenity and moral indecency, highlighting the enduring tension between satire and social sensibilities.

These incidents, amplified by social media outrage, highlight how difficult it is to navigate free speech in India’s diverse society, where humor can quickly turn into legal or cultural controversy. The latest Supreme Court ruling follows this pattern but shifts the spotlight to the accountability of monetized content, while stressing the need for clearer regulations that prevent overreach and safeguard legitimate expression.

Existing Indian laws on digital content

India’s legal framework governing digital content remains fragmented. The Information Technology Act, 2000, along with the Intermediary Guidelines and Digital Media Ethics Code, 2021, addresses platform liability merely by mentioning that platforms should take down any illegal content upon notice. Although it is possible to do so on a voluntary basis, false endorsements and influencer advertisements are subject to the Consumer Protection Act, 2019, and are further guided by the Advertising Standards Council of India (ASCI).

Broadcasting and OTT regulations via The Information Technology Rules, 2021, impose restrictions primarily on platforms, not on individual content creators.

With this patchwork approach, there are large gaps in regulation over monetized content that may contain humor, commentary, and commercial promotion. The government was instructed by the Supreme Court to address the regulatory vacuum, noting the inefficiency of a piecemeal regulatory framework in a digital age of rapid innovation.

Mixed reactions to the verdict

Opinions on the verdict have been divided. The Cure SMA Foundation celebrated the result, with their counsel, Aparajita Singh, stating that “good sense has prevailed” when the comedians gave unconditional apologies in the hearing. Conversely, many viewers and social media followers criticized the decision as an instance of embarrassing judicial overreach. They argued that the disabled participants in the episode had engaged in self-deprecating humor by choice, and that such legal interference undermines artistic expression rather than advancing it.

Reactions across India’s media and the public have been split. Mainstream outlets such as The Hindu, Times of India, and India Today praised the ruling for reinforcing sensitivity in an era of increasingly commercialized influencer content. In contrast, The Economic Times and many users on X (formerly Twitter) criticized what they saw as societal hypocrisy, condemning dark comedy created by influencers while tolerating far more explicit material elsewhere.

Analysts of creative freedom have warned of a broader chilling effect. Media lawyer and free speech advocate Apar Gupta, noted in a Storyboard18 article that the judgment could discourage satire and political commentary, as creators may resort to self-censorship to avoid judicial scrutiny in an already litigious online environment.

This is driving creators toward hyper-sensitivity as India has gone mainstream with its digital satire, which is in line with international efforts to censor harmful information without curtailing the democratization of humor and satire. The Supreme Court’s emphasis on a cohesive policy and ethical framework appears well-founded, underscoring that digital freedom and social responsibility must function as complements, not opposites. This balance is based on the preservation of dignity and minimization of harm, which forms the foundation of platforms to coexist with governments and artists, furthering democracy.

Originally published on Global Voices

Image by the author. Used with permission.

On July 28, 2025, the Times of India shared a disturbing headline: “City hounded by strays, kids pay price.” That single report highlighting stray dog attacks on children playing in the street triggered an extraordinary judicial intervention. Taking suo motu cognisance, the Supreme Court quickly elevated the news item into a matter of constitutional significance. Within weeks, two sharply contrasting orders emerged: the first, on August 11, which directed the permanent confinement of stray dogs in Delhi- National Capital Region (NCR); and the second, on August 22, which corrected course, reinstating the capture–neuter–vaccinate–release (CNVR) model, and broadening the issue to a pan-India scale. The 11 days separating these two orders revealed not only the tension between public safety and animal welfare but also the fragility of India’s statutory framework on stray dog management.

The statutory framework: A balancing act

India’s legal framework on animal rights is primarily encapsulated within the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals Act, 1960 (PCA Act). It represents a radical departure from centuries-old colonial culling practices and, for the first time in Indian law, explicitly recognised animals as sentient beings capable of experiencing pain and suffering, and therefore entitled to protection.

Public resistance to culling is not unprecedented. In 1832, the city of Bombay was rocked by strikes and protests against municipal dog culling laws, one of the first records of resistance to lethal controls. Despite such opposition, colonial authorities formalised the policy of culling: dogs were poisoned, shot in the streets by police, or clubbed to death. The cities of Madras and Bangalore even established “lethal chambers” throughout the 19th and early 20th centuries. Though controversial, these provisions became an integral aspect of colonial urban governance.

By the 1920s, dogs continued to be framed as a public nuisance and reinforced perspectives that rationalised extermination. Municipalities throughout India mostly continued the colonial practice of poisoning and shooting dogs after gaining independence in 1947. This persisted for decades before animal rights campaigners started to promote the move towards more humane options.

The decisive shift came in 2001, when Indian law outlawed killing as a means of dog control, replaced the term “stray dogs” with “street dogs”, and introduced the Animal Birth Control (ABC) program focused on sterilisation and vaccination. The PCA Act further strengthened protections: Section 3 of the Act establishes a general duty of care to prevent cruelty, while Section 11 makes certain forms of mistreatment criminal offences.

At the same time, the Act recognises that the State may regulate stray populations in the interest of public health and safety, but not in a manner that constitutes cruelty. Further, within this ambit, the government framed the Animal Birth Control (Dogs) Rules, 2001, which were subsequently modified to become the Animal Birth Control Rules, 2023 (ABC Rules). These rules perfectly encapsulate the CNVR approach: stray dogs shall be captured, sterilised, vaccinated and released into the same locality. Importantly, the 2023 Rules reinforced judicial precedents such as Animal Welfare Board of India v. People for Elimination of Stray Troubles (2015), where the Supreme Court prohibited the arbitrary killing of stray dogs.

Against this backdrop, when the two-judge bench on August 11 ordered permanent confinement of all dogs, it was not merely a policy shift but a direct assault on the statutory scheme itself.

Stray dog management in India

For decades, Indian municipalities relied on poisoning and shooting dogs to temporarily control numbers, while drawing international criticism for their cruelty and inefficacy.

By the 1980s and 1990s, growing animal welfare activism and global shifts in veterinary science had made it clear that culling was neither sustainable nor humane. The decisive policy shift came with the Animal Birth Control (Dogs) Rules, 2001 which made the the capture–neuter–vaccinate–release (CNVR) model the only lawful approach.

In theory, CNVR operates on a self-limiting ecological principle: sterilised and vaccinated dogs, once returned to their territories, stabilise population growth and deter the entry of unsterilised newcomers. In practice, however, implementation has faltered. Sterilisation coverage rarely exceeds 30–40 percent in most cities, far below the 70 percent coverage needed to effectively control populations. Municipal capacity in Delhi and Gurgaon has been weak, hampered by too few veterinarians, inadequate shelters, and erratic vaccination drives.

Despite these shortcomings, the judiciary has consistently upheld the CNVR framework, striking down attempts at mass culling by municipalities in response to public pressure. The updated ABC Rules 2023 attempted to correct some of these deficiencies by strengthening municipal accountability, permitting confinement only in narrowly defined cases, and linking sterilisation programmes to public health obligations.

A street dog in Udaipur uses waste dumped on the roadside as a bed. Image by Jay.Jarosz via Wikipedia. CC BY-SA 4.0.

The 11-day fiasco

Against this legal and historical backdrop, the August 11 order struck like a thunderclap. By mandating the permanent warehousing of all stray dogs, the Court bypassed the statutory framework and resurrected a long-discredited model of containment.

The two-judge bench of Justices J.B. Pardiwala and R. Mahadevan framed the issue as a stark constitutional conflict: Does the right to life under Article 21 override the State’s duty of animal welfare? In their anxiety to protect citizens, particularly children, they answered decisively: yes. The Court directed that all stray dogs in Delhi-NCR be permanently confined to shelters, prohibited their release even after sterilisation, and threatened contempt proceedings against anyone who obstructed dog-catching operations.

Municipal authorities scrambled to construct shelters for 5,000 dogs within weeks, while NGOs who resisted risked contempt charges. The order not only contradicted Rule 11 of the ABC Rules but also ignored the ecological rationale of CNVR: under which sterilised dogs in familiar territories deter the entry of new, unsterilised packs. During those eleven days, Delhi’s animal management regime descended into uncertainty, a humanitarian, administrative, and legal muddle authored by the Court itself.

The August 22 course correction

The three-judge bench of Justices Vikram Nath, Sandeep Mehta, and N.V. Anjaria stepped in to quell a crisis of the Court’s own making. In its August 22 order, the bench stayed the August 11 directions and reinstated the CNVR model, while carving out humane exceptions: rabid, aggressive, or dangerously ill dogs could be confined, but the rest must be sterilised, vaccinated, and released.

At the same time, the Court introduced three innovations. First, it regulated public feeding by restricting it to designated zones, seeking to balance compassion with hygiene. Second, it created an adoption pathway, allowing individuals and NGOs to remove dogs from the streets responsibly. Third, it shifted some financial responsibility onto petitioners and NGOs, requiring deposits to support infrastructure. By expanding the case to all States and Union Territories, the Court signalled its intent to craft a national policy on stray dog management — something India has long lacked.

Moving towards a humane national policy

The contrasting orders of August 11 and 22 illustrate the perils of quick-fix populism and the importance of judicial restraint. Stray dog management cannot be solved by diktat; it requires statutory fidelity, scientific grounding, and sustained municipal investment. The Supreme Court’s final word in this matter will likely shape the trajectory of India’s animal welfare law for decades. If implemented faithfully, CNVR can work, but only if sterilisation coverage is scaled up, shelters are made functional rather than punitive, and feeding practices are regulated with compassion.

The August 11 order will be remembered as a judicial misstep born of urgency; the August 22 order, as a corrective moment that pulled India back onto the path of humane, science-based governance. The challenge now is to ensure that the Court’s ambition to craft a national framework does not remain trapped in paper orders but translates into real-world reform, one that safeguards children in playgrounds, while also honouring the lives of the dogs who share our streets.