Why India’s Right to Disconnect Bill Raises Deeper Questions About Work in the Digital Age

The Right to Disconnect Bill, recently introduced as a private member’s Bill in Parliament, has drawn attention not because it is likely to become law soon — private member’s Bills rarely do — but because of the questions it raises about how Indian labour law understands work in an age of constant connectivity. Coming soon after the consolidation of labour regulations under the four labour codes, the Bill forces a re-examination of whether India’s time-based framework for regulating work is adequate for a digital economy.

Why the Bill matters despite its limited legislative prospects

At its core, the Bill seeks to grant employees the right to not respond to work-related calls, messages, or emails beyond prescribed working hours. This reflects a growing concern that digital technologies have dissolved the boundary between professional and personal life, extending employer influence far beyond the physical workplace.

While the Bill may not be enacted immediately, its significance lies elsewhere: it acknowledges, perhaps for the first time in Indian labour law, that uninterrupted connectivity can itself become a form of control. In doing so, it opens up a broader debate about how labour protections should evolve when work is no longer confined to fixed hours or locations.

The unresolved question: what counts as ‘work’?

The Bill’s central weakness lies in what it does not define. Indian labour law — including the Occupational Safety, Health and Working Conditions Code, 2020 — continues to regulate employment primarily through concepts such as working hours, overtime, and rest periods. However, the Right to Disconnect Bill does not clarify whether after-hours digital engagement constitutes “work” under these laws.

This creates a conceptual gap. Communication is regulated, but without integrating it into the legal framework that governs working time. As a result, the proposed right functions more like a behavioural expectation than a binding labour standard, leaving employers and employees without clarity on whether after-hours availability has legal consequences.

How other jurisdictions have addressed constant connectivity

The ambiguity becomes clearer when India’s approach is contrasted with developments elsewhere. In the European Union, courts have increasingly focused on employer control rather than physical activity when defining working time. Judicial precedents have treated on-call duties, standby periods, and enforced availability as work, even when no active task is performed.

France has taken a different route. Instead of redefining work itself, French labour law draws a sharp line between working time and rest time. Any period during which an employee remains under employer control is treated as working time, and the right to disconnect is implemented largely through collective bargaining.

Germany, meanwhile, relies on strict statutory limits on working hours and mandatory rest periods, leaving little room for informal digital encroachment into personal time. These models are not directly transferable to India, but they underline a common principle: the right to disconnect works best when employee time is clearly classified within labour law.

Mandatory right or negotiable privilege?

Another unresolved issue is the legal status of the proposed right. Indian labour regulation typically combines mandatory statutory standards with contractual terms shaped by employer policies or agreements. The Bill does not specify whether the right to disconnect is non-negotiable or whether it can be diluted through contracts, internal policies, or workplace agreements.

This uncertainty matters because, without mandatory force, the right risks becoming unevenly applied — available to some workers but not others, depending on bargaining power and organisational culture.

The constitutional dimension the Bill leaves unexplored

There is also a deeper constitutional question. The freedom to disengage from work has a clear relationship with personal liberty and dignity, values protected under Article 21 of the Constitution. Yet the Bill does not articulate this connection or explain whether the right to disconnect is merely statutory or reflects a broader constitutional principle governing the relationship between work and individual autonomy.

By avoiding this question, the legislation leaves room for conflicting interpretations: is this a narrow workplace entitlement, or does it signal a shift in how Indian law understands the balance between employer authority and personal life?

A starting point, not a finished framework

The Bill correctly recognises that digital labour has blurred the traditional distinction between working time and private time. What it does not do is explain how this transformation should be accommodated within India’s existing labour law architecture, which was designed for physical workplaces and clearly demarcated shifts.

Comparative experience suggests that the right to disconnect becomes meaningful only when digital availability is legally recognised as working time. Until Indian law addresses this foundational issue, the proposed right will remain incomplete.

For now, the Right to Disconnect Bill should be seen less as a ready-made solution and more as the opening of a long-overdue conversation — one that Indian labour jurisprudence will eventually have to confront as work becomes ever more digital, dispersed, and continuous.