Subject: Polity

Why in the News:

The Supreme Court released Draft Regulations on the Use of Artificial Intelligence (AI) in the Judiciary in June 2026 for public consultation. While the draft establishes several AI governance committees, it leaves key questions regarding institutional design, accountability, and AI standards unresolved before AI systems are deployed in courts.

Why do successive waves of court technology each create new oversight committees, and why is that a concern?

1. Committee proliferation: Every phase of judicial technology reform has created new committees. AI governance now proposes an Apex AI Body, five Standing Committees, High Court AI Committees, District AI Secretariats, and a Centre of Research and Excellence on AI (CoRE-AI).
2. Fragmented accountability: AI applications such as case scheduling simultaneously involve case management, digital infrastructure, court administration, and AI governance. Multiple committees dilute ownership, coordination, and decision making.

What institutional design would address this challenge, and what are the Indian precedents?

1. Need for a permanent institution: Instead of creating separate committees for every technological innovation, the judiciary requires one permanent technology institution that integrates the functions of the existing e-Committee, AI governance, and future digital initiatives.
2. Precedent – Tamil Nadu Medical Services Corporation (TNMSC): TNMSC institutionalised professional procurement of medicines, becoming a model adopted by several states.
3. Precedent – Unique Identification Authority of India (UIDAI): UIDAI serves as a permanent institution responsible for developing and maintaining the Aadhaar ecosystem.
4. Importance of permanence: Long term technology governance requires institutional continuity, technical expertise, and clear accountability, which rotating committees cannot consistently provide.

Why should AI standard setting be separated from procurement?

1. UPI model: The National Payments Corporation of India (NPCI) developed the Unified Payments Interface (UPI) standards, while private companies such as PhonePe and Google Pay built competing applications based on those standards.
2. Role of CoRE-AI: The proposed Centre of Research and Excellence on AI (CoRE-AI) should function as a neutral standard setting body, without financial or commercial interests in selecting AI vendors.
3. Separation of functions: A sound governance framework requires:
   • A permanent technical institution to develop AI standards.
   • A separate procurement authority to acquire AI systems.
   • A judicial oversight committee to approve AI applications for court use.

What happens if AI standards remain undefined?

1. Key unanswered questions: The draft regulations do not specify:
   • Explainability requirements for AI decisions.
   • Acceptable error rates for different judicial functions such as bail decisions versus case scheduling.
   • Standards governing training data, transparency, and validation.
2. Risk of inconsistent implementation: Without common national standards, each of India’s 25 High Courts may independently determine what constitutes an acceptable AI system, resulting in uneven adoption and inconsistent judicial practices.
3. Regulatory comparison: Just as pharmaceutical products must comply with uniform quality standards before approval, judicial AI requires national technical standards to ensure reliability, fairness, and public trust.

Conclusion:

The Supreme Court’s Draft AI Regulations represent an important step towards integrating Artificial Intelligence into India’s judicial system. However, effective implementation requires a permanent institutional framework, a clear separation between standard setting and procurement, and uniform national AI standards. Without these safeguards, differences in technical capacity across High Courts could result in unequal AI governance and inconsistent standards of justice, undermining the objective of technology enabled judicial reform.

Why in the News?

Parliament is set to take up, in the Monsoon Session, the report of the Judges (Inquiry) Act committee that investigated misbehaviour charges against former judge Yashwant Varma, who resigned in April 2026 after burnt currency notes were found at his residence. Three months later, he is still listed as a sitting judge by the Allahabad High Court and the Union Department of Justice, exposing a gap between judicial independence and judicial accountability.

Why does the Constitution let judges resign without anyone’s acceptance?

1. Resign at will power: Thirteen constitutional functionaries, including Supreme Court and High Court judges, may resign merely by writing to the specified authority, with no acceptance required.
2. Contrast with legislators: Article 101(3)(b) and Article 190(3)(b) make resignation of MPs and MLAs subject to acceptance by the Speaker or Chairman, unlike judges.
3. Judicial precedent: A five judge Constitution Bench in Union of India vs Gopal Chandra Misra (1978) unanimously held that a judge’s resignation takes effect ex proprio vigore, automatically, without needing acceptance.
4. Purpose: The power shields judges from being coerced to continue in office, protecting judicial independence.
5. Track record: At least 12 High Court judges have resigned since 2017, and one Supreme Court judge, Justice Dalveer Bhandari, resigned in 2012; these resignations were reportedly handled in compliance with the law.

Is Varma still officially a judge on paper?

1. Legal status: Varma ceased to be a judge on April 9, 2026, making any later listing of him as a sitting judge incorrect.
2. Administrative lapse: The Allahabad High Court and the Department of Justice have continued to list him as a sitting judge for over three months.
3. Bar record: His status at the Bar was reportedly changed to “active” and some dues and benefits as a sitting judge have reportedly stopped, showing the system elsewhere treats him as having exited office.
4. Correction needed: It would be illegal for him to draw any salary or benefit as a sitting judge, and his name should be deleted from official lists.

Does judicial accountability survive when the judge quits before removal?

1. Statutory duty: The report concerns Varma’s conduct before resignation, so it must still be laid before both Houses and made public under the Judges (Inquiry) Act, 1968.
2. Public interest: Citizens have a legitimate right to know whether the committee found proven misbehaviour against a judge of a constitutional court.
3. If exonerated: If the report finds no misbehaviour, the matter ends there.
4. If found guilty: The removal motion can no longer be moved because Varma no longer holds the office he would be removed from.
5. Procedural gap: Under Section 6, the report is to be discussed together with the removal motion; since the motion lapses, the report itself cannot be discussed by Parliament under the Act.

Can the resignation loophole be closed without amending the Constitution?

1. Nature of the gap: Judges may resign at will before Parliament even takes up the removal motion, halting the entire accountability process.
2. Preferred fix: The loophole should be closed through constitutional amendment, not executive or judicial reinterpretation.
3. Design of fix: The amendment could make a judge’s resignation subject to acceptance during the pendency of removal proceedings.
4. Who accepts: To protect judicial independence, that acceptance power should vest in the Chief Justice of India, not the President.
5. Separate remedy for debate: If Parliament wants to discuss the report despite resignation, the 1968 Act itself would need to be amended to enable this.
6. Rule of law caution: Interpreting constitutional or statutory silences to suit Parliament’s or the executive’s convenience would be against the rule of law.

Conclusion:

The resign at will power, designed to protect judicial independence, can be exploited to halt removal proceedings once they are underway, leaving accountability incomplete even when misconduct is established. Varma’s continued listing as a sitting judge is a correctable administrative error, but the deeper gap is structural: the Inquiry Committee report must still be tabled even though the removal motion has lapsed. Closing this requires a constitutional amendment vesting the CJI, not the President, with the power to accept a judge’s resignation while removal proceedings are pending

Why in the News?

The Supreme Court declined to permit the release of the CBFC-certified animated film Mahaprabhu Jagannath on its scheduled date, directing the producer to postpone release until after the Rath Yatra in Puri concludes, following an Orissa High Court stay over the film’s depiction of Lord Jagannath. The episode brings into focus the tension between the settled judicial position that certification by an expert statutory body carries a strong presumption of validity immune from apprehensions of public disorder, and the recurring judicial practice of restraining certified films precisely on such grounds.

What triggered the dispute, and what exactly did the Supreme Court decide?

1. Origin of the restraint: The Orissa High Court, on July 15, stayed the film’s release over concerns about its depiction of Lord Jagannath and the possible impact of screening it during the Rath Yatra.
2. Nature of the Supreme Court’s order: The Court did not permit release on the original date. It also did not uphold an indefinite restraint. It directed postponement until after July 27, when the Rath Yatra concludes.
3. Scope of challenge: The producer contested the High Court’s power to restrain a certified film, and the extent to which such restraint can rest on apprehensions of public disorder rather than an actual legal violation.
4. High Court’s stated reasoning: The film’s depiction of Lord Jagannath’s childhood and adventures was held “not in tune with the religious texts,” and its release during the Rath Yatra was called “counterproductive.”
5. Certification status of the film: The film held three separate ‘U’ (universal) certificates from the CBFC for its Hindi, Telugu, and Odia versions, dated May, June, and July respectively.
6. Territorial overreach in the stay: The restraint stalled the certified Hindi and Telugu versions even in states “where no cause of action existed and no relief was ever sought.

Why does CBFC certification carry a strong presumption of validity against restraint by apprehension of disorder?

1. Petitioner’s core argument: Once an expert statutory body certifies a film for unrestricted public exhibition, there is a strong legal presumption of validity. Courts should not substitute their own view for the CBFC’s expert judgment based on unverified apprehensions.
2. Union of India v K M Shankarappa (2000): The Supreme Court struck down a provision letting the government revise a tribunal’s decision on a certified film. It held that once an expert statutory body certifies a film, that decision cannot be revisited by the executive on the grounds of objections or apprehensions about public reaction.
3. Allocation of responsibility for law and order: The Court in Shankarappa held that once an expert body clears a film, apprehension of a law-and-order situation is no excuse to restrain it. Maintaining law and order is the concerned state government’s responsibility, not a ground to withhold the certified film.
4. S Rangarajan v P Jagjivan Ram (1989): The Supreme Court held that if a film is otherwise unobjectionable under Article 19(2), freedom of expression cannot be suppressed on account of threatened demonstrations, processions, or violence.
5. The anti-heckler’s-veto principle: Yielding to such threats amounts to a “negation of the rule of law.” The state cannot plead inability to handle a hostile audience; it has an obligatory duty to prevent disruption and protect the freedom of expression. Heckler’s veto, suppression of lawful expression to avoid a violent or disruptive reaction from its opponents, rather than because the expression itself is unlawful.

Does the outcome in this case match the doctrine it invokes, or does it concede ground to the apprehension the doctrine forbids?

1. Re-adjudication of content already cleared: The High Court’s finding that the depiction was “not in tune with the religious texts” evaluates content on the same grounds the CBFC had already cleared, which the Shankarappa doctrine holds courts should not revisit.
2. A calibrated restraint, not a vacated one: The Supreme Court did not fully restore the certified release. It replaced an indefinite block with a postponement timed to the Rath Yatra, a decision still shaped by public-sensitivity considerations rather than a finding of unlawful certification.
3. Restraint exceeding the specific dispute: The stay affected certified versions in states where no cause of action existed and no relief was sought, extending the restraint beyond what the underlying grievance covered.
4. Net effect on the doctrine: The anti-heckler’s-veto principle is reaffirmed in language but diluted in practice. This is because the timing of a certified film’s release is still being shaped by apprehension of disruption during a religious event.

Is certification actually beyond interference, or does the law retain other levers over a cleared film?

1. Certification is not immune from judicial scrutiny: Courts retain the power to examine whether certification was granted in accordance with law, including whether the CBFC relied on statutory grounds, issued reasons, or followed fair procedure.
2. Deference is conditional: Where the CBFC acts within the framework of the Cinematograph Act, courts usually defer to it. This deference is tied to lawful process, not to certification as such.
3. Executive power to suspend or revoke: Under the Cinematograph Act, the government may suspend or revoke a certification even after approval.
4. Power to restrict without prior hearing: The government may, in some cases, temporarily restrict a certified film’s screening without a prior hearing.
5. Enforcement mechanisms beyond certification: The Act allows criminal liability for violations, and authorities are empowered to enter theatres and seize materials.

Conclusion

The doctrine from Shankarappa and Rangarajan holds that CBFC certification is final, and that neither the executive nor the courts may let apprehension of public disorder override a cleared film’s freedom of expression. In practice, both the Orissa High Court’s stay and the Supreme Court’s own decision to postpone release until after the Rath Yatra show that religious and public-order sensitivities continue to shape when and how a certified film is actually screened. Certification functions as a strong but not absolute shield: courts retain review over the legality of the certification process. Also, the executive retains statutory power to suspend, revoke, or temporarily restrict a cleared film. The unresolved question is where deference to apprehension, which the doctrine forbids, ends and legitimate statutory or procedural oversight, which the doctrine permits, begins.

Why in the News?

A Special NIA Court in Jammu issued a non-bailable warrant against Lashkar-e-Taiba chief Hafiz Saeed in the Pahalgam terror attack case, days after the NIA filed a supplementary chargesheet charging him under the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS), 2023 and the Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act, 1967. Since Saeed is unlikely to appear before an Indian court, the NIA is expected to seek a trial in absentia under Section 356 of the Bharatiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita (BNSS).

What is trial in absentia, and why did the CrPC regime fail to deliver it?

1. Definition: A trial in absentia is a criminal trial conducted without the physical presence of the accused, with the court proceeding to inquiry, trial, and judgment as if the accused were present.
2. Section 356 mechanism: BNSS Section 356 permits a court to treat the absence of a proclaimed offender as a waiver of the right to be present, after recording reasons in writing, once there is no immediate prospect of arrest.
3. CrPC’s partial provisions: Section 82(4) CrPC allowed proclamation and attachment of an absconding accused’s property. Section 317 CrPC allowed trial in absence only in specific cases. Section 299 CrPC allowed recording of evidence in absence where early arrest was not expected.
4. Discretion without completion: CrPC provisions permitted in-absentia proceedings only when the accused’s personal attendance was unnecessary for justice, or when the accused persistently disrupted court proceedings. None allowed a full trial to conclude in the accused’s absence.
5. Resulting backlog: Without a mechanism for full trial completion, cases against absconding accused remained pending for years until arrest. Prosecutorial closure and deterrence were both weakened.

Whom does Section 356 apply to?

1. Restricted scope: The provision does not apply to every absconding accused. It applies only to a person declared a “proclaimed offender” under Section 84 of the BNSS.
2. Offence severity threshold: Under Section 84(4), a person can be declared a proclaimed offender only for offences punishable with imprisonment of 10 years or more, life imprisonment, or death.
3. Declaration process: The court declares a person a proclaimed offender after such inquiry as it considers necessary, once the accused fails to appear at the specified place and time despite proclamation.
4. Application to Saeed: Charges relating to waging war against India and cross-border conspiracy meet this severity threshold, making Saeed eligible for trial in absentia once declared a proclaimed offender.

What procedural safeguards protect the accused’s right to a fair trial?

1. Dual warrants: Two consecutive arrest warrants must be issued at an interval of at least 30 days before proceedings can commence.
2. Public notice: A notice must be published in a local or national newspaper, giving the accused 30 days to appear before the court.
3. Notice at residence: The notice must also be displayed at the accused’s last known residence, and a relative or friend must be informed of the trial.
4. Cooling-off period: The trial cannot commence until 90 days have elapsed from the framing of charges, giving the accused time to appear.
5. State-funded defence: If the absconding accused has no legal representation, the court must appoint a defence lawyer at the State’s expense.

What happens if the absconding accused later appears or is apprehended?

1. Provisional use of evidence: Statements of prosecution witnesses recorded before the trial’s commencement can be used as evidence against the absconding accused.
2. Right to cross-examine: If the accused later appears or is apprehended, the court may permit cross-examination of witnesses in the interest of justice.
3. Audiovisual preservation: Depositions and examination of witnesses are, as far as practicable, recorded through audiovisual electronic means.
4. Purpose of preservation: Recordings are preserved to ensure transparency, accuracy, and integrity of the trial, and to enable review if the accused is later apprehended.

Does trial in absentia resolve the problem of absconding offenders, or does it merely shift it elsewhere?

1. Verdict without custody: A conviction in absentia establishes legal guilt but does not itself secure physical custody of an accused based abroad, as in Saeed’s case in Pakistan.
2. Enforcement gap persists: Extradition or handover of a convicted proclaimed offender still depends on bilateral treaties and the host state’s cooperation, which a trial in absentia cannot compel.
3. Symbolic versus substantive closure: The mechanism ends prosecutorial limbo and enables sentencing, but substantive closure for victims requires enforcement of the sentence, an outcome outside the court’s control.
4. Fair trial versus finality: Section 356’s safeguards balance the accused’s Article 21 rights against the State’s interest in finality. The accused’s inability to personally instruct defence counsel or contest evidence in real time remains an inherent limitation of any in-absentia trial.

Conclusion

Section 356 of the BNSS fills a long-standing gap in India’s criminal law by allowing a full trial in absentia for proclaimed offenders in serious offences. Unlike the CrPC, which allowed only limited in-absentia proceedings, it prevents cases from remaining pending indefinitely. The provision balances this expanded power with layered safeguards, dual warrants, public notice, a waiting period, state-funded defence, and post-apprehension cross-examination rights, to protect the accused’s fair trial rights. However, a conviction in absentia only delivers a judicial verdict; it does not solve the challenge of bringing back an accused protected by a non-cooperating foreign state.