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By:

Sagari Gupta

24 March 2026 at 7:46:04 pm

India’s Digital Footprint Is No Longer a Choice

India’s digital economy has made personal data unavoidable. The harder task is ensuring that citizens retain meaningful control over the trails they leave behind. In August this year, the Unified Payments Interface processed about 24.5 billion transactions worth nearly Rs. 29.8 lakh crore, according to data from the National Payments Corporation of India. Aadhaar’s authentication system recorded more than 17,759 crore transactions in FY2025-26, according to UIDAI’s dashboard. Behind these...

India’s Digital Footprint Is No Longer a Choice

India’s digital economy has made personal data unavoidable. The harder task is ensuring that citizens retain meaningful control over the trails they leave behind. In August this year, the Unified Payments Interface processed about 24.5 billion transactions worth nearly Rs. 29.8 lakh crore, according to data from the National Payments Corporation of India. Aadhaar’s authentication system recorded more than 17,759 crore transactions in FY2025-26, according to UIDAI’s dashboard. Behind these numbers sits a question Indian policy has yet to answer clearly: what happens to the data these systems generate, and who controls it? The most pressing privacy question in India today is not what people choose to post online. It is what they are required to leave behind to take part in everyday life. A UPI payment leaves a transaction trail. A loan application generates financial records. A food-delivery order records your address and buying habits. A cab ride shows where you work and when you travel. A social-media post adds something more personal: what you think, like, fear or believe. Individually, these fragments look harmless. Together, they can describe a remarkably detailed version of a person’s life. Orwellian Society This is not digital technology invading a society that was once offline. It is a society in which digital systems have become part of ordinary economic life. For a software professional, deleting social media may be an inconvenience. For a domestic worker paid through a bank account, a student applying for a scholarship or a pensioner completing an identity check, opting out is not a workable choice. Consider an ordinary Saturday. You check the weather, search for a medicine, order groceries, pay through UPI, book a cab and make an online purchase. No single action tells a complete story. Together, they reveal your location, spending patterns, household composition, health concerns and daily routine. Artificial intelligence changes what this data means, because machine systems are increasingly good at connecting fragments that once sat in separate databases. The concern is not that an AI system knows what you searched for once. It is that automated systems can identify patterns across millions of ordinary interactions that, taken individually, meant little. The problem is also one of asymmetry. The individual usually sees only the service being offered; the organisation sees the accumulated information behind it. A single transaction may be trivial, but millions of such transactions can become commercially or administratively valuable when linked and analysed. That makes data different from many other commodities. Once information has been copied, combined or used to build a profile, the original individual may have little visibility into its subsequent journey. The question is therefore not simply who collected the data, but who can combine it, infer from it and act upon those inferences. The public debate on AI scraping is often too simple. Not every online interaction is pulled into an AI model, and not every company holds every piece of a person’s digital life. Collection depends on the platform, its policies, its technical architecture and the applicable law. But the gap is real: the capacity to analyse vast volumes of information is growing faster than most people’s understanding of where their information goes. A PwC India survey found that 56 percent of consumers did not know their rights over personal data, while 70 percent said privacy policies were difficult to understand. When a person does not understand what they are agreeing to, consent risks becoming a formality rather than a genuine choice. There is also a distinction between privacy and secrecy. A person may have nothing embarrassing to hide and still reasonably object to a detailed record of their movements, purchases and associations being assembled without meaningful control. Privacy is less about having something to conceal than about retaining a degree of agency over one’s own life. A Right on Paper The Digital Personal Data Protection Act, 2023 gives individuals rights to correct and erase personal data, subject to the conditions and exceptions set out in the law. The government notified the Digital Personal Data Protection Rules in November 2025, with provisions coming into force in phases. On paper, this changes the relationship between citizens and the organisations that hold their data. In practice, most people do not think in terms of “Data Principal” or “Data Fiduciary” when an app asks for access to their information. They think about whether the app will still work if they say no. That is the test that decides whether a data-protection law functions on the ground. A small retailer selling online may not fully understand the compliance requirements. An elderly customer faces a long privacy notice before completing a routine transaction. A young user accepts an app’s terms because refusing means losing access to a service that friends or employers already use. A right that exists on paper does not guarantee a person’s ability to exercise it. The ability to protect personal data is not distributed evenly. A high-income professional can pay for privacy-focused software, encrypted communication and legal advice. Someone on a smaller income uses whichever free application is available. The same divide applies to time. A person who understands technology can adjust permissions and request deletion. A person working two jobs may accept an app’s terms because reading a 30-page privacy notice at 11 p.m. is hardly realistic. This produces an uneven outcome. The people with the strongest ability to protect their data are often the same people with the clearest sense of what is being collected. Those with fewer resources tend to generate more data while having less power to question how it is used. This is why treating “going offline” as the solution has limited use in India. Cash does not cover every digital transaction. A basic phone does not replace every digital service. Deleting a social-media account does not erase bank or government records. Refusing every digital platform carries its own economic cost, particularly for people who depend on digital payments for income. The realistic goal is not disappearance. It is control. India’s digital economy should not be measured only by payment volumes or platform reach. It should also be measured by whether people understand the exchange taking place underneath that convenience. Regulators should track whether a person can find out what a service holds about them, correct inaccurate information, delete data that is no longer necessary and withdraw consent without clicking through several layers of settings. The sharper test is what happens when data collected for one purpose becomes useful for another. Rising Stakes The stakes will rise as India’s digital infrastructure becomes more deeply embedded in public services, finance and commerce. The country has built impressive systems for moving money and verifying identity; the next challenge is to build equally credible systems for limiting what can be inferred from the information those systems generate. The next phase of India’s privacy debate should move past the idea of digital disappearance, because most people have no practical way to leave the systems through which they earn, pay, borrow, travel, study and access public services. The more useful task is making those systems answerable to the people whose lives they record. The measure of digital freedom is not whether a citizen leaves no trace. It is whether they have a say over where that trace leads. (The writer is an independent public policy researcher. Views personal.)

The Governance Crisis Behind Tata’s Boardroom Battle

Writer: Amey Chitale
Amey Chitale
5 hours ago
5 min read

The Group’s latest governance crisis exposes a deeper tension between professional management, shareholder stewardship and the costly pursuit of new businesses.

While India has witnessed numerous political confrontations in recent past, few would have imagined that a purely corporate dispute could command such widespread national attention. Over the past month, differences within the Tata Sons board have escalated into a major governance crisis with potentially far-reaching implications for the conglomerate’s future. The Tata Group is among the world’s largest private-sector employers, supporting over one million direct jobs and an estimated five million livelihoods across its value chain. In FY 2025-26, the Group reported consolidated revenues of Rs.16.24 trillion and a net profit of Rs.1.71 trillion, while its 26 listed companies together accounted for a market capitalisation of nearly $277 billion. More than a business conglomerate, the Tata Group has become a national institution and a cornerstone of India’s economic architecture, playing a pivotal role in the country’s development aspirations.


Trust Structure

The roots of the current governance crisis lie in the Tata Group’s distinctive ownership structure, shaped not by financial engineering but by a deeply ingrained philosophy of public stewardship. The principle established by Jamshedji Tata and reinforced by successive generations holds that the Group’s promoters are custodians, not owners, of wealth held in trust for the people of India. This vision was institutionalized in 1932 when Sir Dorabji Tata donated his personal fortune to the Sir Dorabji Tata Trust (SDTT), ensuring that wealth generated through industry would support education, research, healthcare, and public welfare without distinction of geography, nationality, or creed.


To advance these objectives, the Sir Ratan Tata Trust (SRTT) and SDTT together hold 66 percent of Tata Sons, the Group’s apex holding company. Yet, despite their overwhelming ownership, the Trusts have traditionally exercised influence through a restrained governance model, holding only two board seats and prioritizing professional management over family control. Unlike many Indian business houses, the Tata Group has never followed hereditary succession. Leadership passed from Sir Dorabji Tata to the non-Tata Sir Nowroji Saklatwala, then to JRD Tata, and later to Ratan Tata, reflecting the Group’s enduring preference for merit-based leadership over bloodline entitlement.


Even when Ratan Tata prepared for succession, he chose Cyrus Mistry over Noel Tata, citing Mistry’s experience in managing large and diversified businesses. Following Mistry’s removal, he appointed N. Chandrasekaran, a non-Parsi professional executive, as Chairman of Tata Sons. This governance architecture relied on a delicate balance of power. Both JRD and Ratan Tata simultaneously served as Chairman of Tata Sons and the Tata Trusts, ensuring alignment between the principal shareholders and the executive leadership. Today, that balance has changed. While Chandrasekaran heads Tata Sons, the Tata Trusts are led by Noel Tata and represented on the board by Noel Tata and Venu Srinivasan. When the priorities of the executive management diverge from those of the Trusts, this bifurcated structure can transform a well-designed system of checks and balances into a source of governance friction and institutional paralysis.


Boardroom Faultline

The simmering ideological and strategic differences between the Tata Group’s two principal power centres came into the open during a crucial Tata Sons board meeting on September 17, 2026. The immediate trigger was the proposal to reappoint Chandrasekaran for a third term as Chairman. The events preceding the meeting were marked by unusual procedural developments and an absence of the quiet consensus-building traditionally associated with the Tata ecosystem. Earlier, on August 12, Chandrasekaran had publicly indicated that he would not seek another term, prompting stakeholders across the Group to prepare for a leadership transition. However, the Nomination and Remuneration Committee subsequently persuaded him to reconsider. When the board met to formalise his continuation, Noel Tata strongly opposed the move, arguing that the earlier decision had already been accepted and reversing it could create uncertainty. Matters escalated further when Venu Srinivasan, the other Trust-nominated director, supported the reappointment, creating a split among the Trust representatives. The deadlock was ultimately resolved through a controversial casting-vote mechanism, allowing the resolution to pass with a 4-1 majority.


The optics of the dispute were further complicated by conflict-of-interest allegations involving senior executives. Reports emerging after the board meeting pointed to previously undisclosed business links between Chandrasekaran’s family and Venu Srinivasan’s TVS Motor Company. While sources close to Chandrasekaran insisted that no impropriety existed and that the arrangements did not warrant disclosure to the Trusts, the lack of transparency raised concerns over governance standards and adherence to the Tata Code of Conduct. Coming soon after Srinivasan’s decisive vote against Noel Tata’s position, these revelations intensified scrutiny and strengthened perceptions that governance practices at the highest levels of the Group were facing growing pressure.


Noel Tata’s opposition to Chandra’s reappointment as a mere manifestation of personal ambition or familial entitlement would be little too harsh on him. His dissent is anchored in profound, systemic concerns regarding proper capital allocation, transparency, and the financial performance of the Group's aggressively expanding portfolio of new businesses.


Under Chandra’s leadership since 2017, the Tata Group has delivered one of the strongest growth phases in its history. Through strategic restructuring, business turnarounds, and investments in emerging sectors, the Group substantially expanded its scale and market presence.


Between FY17 and FY26, consolidated revenues rose from nearly Rs.6 trillion to Rs.16.24 trillion, while net profits increased from Rs.34,909 crore to Rs.1.71 trillion. Tata Sons reported a standalone profit of Rs.31,961 crore in FY26, underscoring the Group’s strengthened financial position. Markets rewarded this transformation, with the combined market capitalisation of Tata companies more than tripling to over Rs.27 trillion. Wealth creation extended beyond TCS, as Tata Motors, Titan, Trent, and Tata Power emerged as significant value creators.


Investment Pressure

A major accomplishment of Chandra’s tenure has been the revival of several legacy businesses, with Tata Motors, Tata Steel, and Indian Hotels recording notable gains in profitability, competitiveness, and market standing. However, this success has been accompanied by growing pressure within the Group’s unlisted portfolio. While listed entities generated record earnings and shareholder returns, Tata Sons’ unlisted subsidiaries absorbed substantial capital to support long-term investments in aviation, semiconductors, digital commerce, batteries, and infrastructure. Consequently, their combined losses rose from Rs.15,311 crore in FY25 to Rs.27,854 crore in FY26. With seven of the Group’s sixteen major unlisted operating companies reporting significant losses, the sustainability and eventual returns from these investments remain a key strategic challenge for the Group’s leadership.


The largest source of losses within Tata Sons’ unlisted portfolio was Air India, whose net loss more than doubled to Rs.22,238 crore, driven by restructuring costs, fleet modernization, supply-chain disruptions, and geopolitical challenges affecting international operations. However, attributing these losses solely to Chandrasekaran’s leadership would be unfair. The Air India acquisition was guided by the broader objective of restoring a national carrier originally built by JRD Tata, while the aviation industry itself continues to face an unusually difficult environment marked by rising costs, capacity constraints, and global uncertainty.


Other growth-oriented ventures also weighed on profitability. Tata Digital incurred losses of nearly Rs.5,000 crore as it continued investing in platforms such as Tata Neu, BigBasket, and Tata 1mg within a highly competitive digital ecosystem. Tata Electronics reported losses of Rs.1,611 crore due to heavy investments in semiconductor and electronics manufacturing, while Agratas, the Group’s battery venture, posted a loss of Rs.1,101 crore during its development phase. Additional pressure came from Tata Projects, Tata Play, and Tata Realty, which faced cyclical and structural industry headwinds.


Nevertheless, Tata Sons remains financially robust, supported by strong dividend inflows and brand royalty income from its listed companies. While the eventual returns from investments in aviation, digital platforms, and advanced manufacturing remain a key strategic consideration, several initiatives, particularly in semiconductors, defence manufacturing, and critical technologies, represent nation-building projects aligned with India’s long-term economic and strategic priorities. Accordingly, the current gestation costs and near-term losses are largely expected and defensible.


(The writer is a Chartered Accountant with a leading Mumbai-based company. Views personal.)

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