Kerala Journalist KA Shaji's Blocked Post Highlights Need for Restoration Right in IT Rules

When Kerala journalist KA Shaji attempted to share a politically sensitive photograph on a major social media platform, he received an automated notice stating that his post had been restricted "pursuant to legal requirements under the IT Rules." The message gave no further detail—no specific provision, no indication of whether a government order, court direction, or private complaint triggered the block. This opaque notification is emblematic of a broader deficiency in India’s intermediary liability framework: the absence of a meaningful right to restoration and a reasoned explanation for content restrictions.

Shaji’s experience, detailed in recent commentary, is not an isolated incident. In May 2026, the Congress party made a comparable allegation regarding photographs of Rahul Gandhi alongside actor Vijay, again attributing the block to compliance with the Information Technology (Intermediary Guidelines and Digital Media Ethics Code) Rules, 2021. These episodes underscore a systemic failure to provide users with the procedural fairness that should accompany any restriction on speech in a democratic society.

The Inadequacy of the Standard Restriction Notice

The notice Shaji received is typical of many automated blocks employed by large platforms. It recites the existence of Indian law as though the recitation itself constitutes a valid ground. Yet, as the source material notes, “That is not a reason. A reason is a statement which permits the person affected to know what has been alleged and to answer it.” The notice fails to identify which sub-clause of Rule 3(1)(b) of the IT Rules was engaged—for example, whether the content was deemed to cause “incitement to violence,” “defamation,” or “harm to minors.” It does not clarify whether the restriction followed a direction under Section 69A of the Information Technology Act, a court order, a private complaint, or the platform’s own internal classifier. Crucially, there is no indication that any human considered the matter before the automated system acted.

This opacity renders the second limb of Rule 4(8)—which mandates that platforms provide users with an opportunity to contest restrictions—practically void. As the source succinctly puts it, “One cannot dispute an unstated ground.” Without knowing the basis of the restriction, the user cannot mount an effective challenge. The burden of proof effectively shifts onto the user to guess what might have triggered the block, and then to disprove it.

Rule 3(1)(b) and the Problem of Automated Enforcement

Rule 3(1)(b) of the IT Rules requires intermediaries to make reasonable efforts to cause users not to host, display, or publish certain categories of content. The rule lists eleven broad categories, including content that is “defamatory,” “harassing,” “blasphemous,” or “promotes enmity.” Platforms often deploy automated tools to screen for such content, but the rules themselves do not mandate that restriction notices specify the precise ground. This legislative gap allows platforms to issue generic notices that satisfy the letter of the law while evading its spirit.

The consequences are significant. Shaji attempted to comply by removing the students and placards from the image, leaving only the two politicians, but the restriction recurred. This suggests that the blocking mechanism may be triggered by metadata or facial recognition rather than content analysis, and that no human review was conducted to reassess the modified post. The lack of a right to restoration means that users are left in a Kafkaesque loop where compliance is met with continued restriction.

The Need for a Legal Right to Restoration

A right to restoration would address this imbalance. It would require platforms to provide a clear, reasoned notice explaining the specific legal basis for each restriction, and to establish a mechanism for the affected user to appeal the decision. Upon a successful appeal or upon the user’s compliance with the identified ground, the platform must restore the content promptly. This right should be enshrined in the IT Rules themselves, not left to the discretion of intermediaries.

Such a right is consistent with principles of natural justice and constitutional protections under Article 19(1)(a) (freedom of speech and expression) of the Constitution of India. Restrictions on speech must be reasonable and procedurally fair. The Supreme Court of India has repeatedly emphasized that any curtailment of fundamental rights must be accompanied by a reasoned order. The same standard should apply to platform decisions that effectively censor speech, whether they originate from government direction or from the platform’s own algorithms.

Implications for the Legal Community and Policy Makers

For legal professionals, the Shaji case illustrates a critical area for advocacy and litigation. The vagueness of Rule 3(1)(b) and the lack of a statutory right to restoration create opportunities for constitutional challenges. Lawyers representing clients affected by opaque restrictions can argue that the IT Rules, as currently applied, violate the right to be heard and the right to a reasoned decision—a principle well established in administrative law.

Moreover, the episode highlights the need for greater judicial scrutiny of automated enforcement systems. Courts may need to examine whether platforms are complying with Rule 4(8) in a meaningful way, and whether the standard notice meets the requirement of “reasonable efforts” under Rule 3(1)(b). The burden should shift to the platform to demonstrate that it has provided a sufficiently particularized reason for each restriction.

Policymakers, too, must take note. The current framework incentivizes platforms to default to broad, automated blocks without accountability. A right to restoration would impose a cost on over‑enforcement and encourage human oversight. It would also strengthen user trust in the digital ecosystem, a key goal of the IT Rules themselves.

Conclusion

The experience of Kerala journalist KA Shaji is a microcosm of a larger failure in India’s intermediary governance regime. A notice that simply cites “legal requirements” without specifying the ground is no notice at all. As the source concludes, a reason must be a statement that permits the person affected to know what has been alleged and to answer it. Until the IT Rules are amended to include a robust right to restoration—backed by a duty to provide reasoned, specific notices—such episodes will continue to undermine free expression and procedural justice in India’s digital public square.