The Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita at 18 Months A Digital Leap or Old Wine in a New Bottle

The Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita at 18 Months: A Digital Leap or Old Wine in a New Bottle? Date: January 13, 2026

Introduction: The End of the Colonial Era? It has been exactly 18 months since the implementation of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS) on July 1, 2024. When the clock struck midnight, replacing the 164-year-old Indian Penal Code (IPC), the government hailed it as the final shedding of India’s colonial skin. The stated goal was ambitious: to shift the philosophy of Indian criminal law from "punishment" to "justice," to digitize the legal process, and to address modern crimes that Lord Macaulay could never have envisioned in 1860.

As we look back from the vantage point of January 2026, the transition has been anything but quiet. The last year and a half has witnessed a collision between the clean logic of the statute books and the messy, chaotic reality of Indian policing and litigation. We have seen truck drivers bring the country’s logistics to a standstill over hit-and-run provisions, civil rights activists challenge the new and nebulous definitions of treason, and rural police stations scramble to procure cloud storage for mandatory video evidence.

This article reviews the first 18 months of the BNS, analyzing its three most contentious pillars: the redefinition of crimes against the state, the overhaul of road safety laws, and the mandatory digitization of justice.

I. Sedition vs. Treason: The Ghost of Section 124A One of the most politically charged aspects of the transition in 2024 was the "repeal" of the Sedition law. The government famously announced that Section 124A of the IPC—the weapon used by the British to incarcerate Mahatma Gandhi and Bal Gangadhar Tilak—was dead. In its place came Section 152 of the BNS, titled "Act endangering sovereignty, unity and integrity of India."

While the word "sedition" (Rajdroh) is indeed absent from the text, legal experts and opposition leaders argue that the spirit of the law has been not only retained but potentially expanded under the guise of Deshdroh (Treason).

The Textual Shift: From "Disaffection" to "Subversion" Under the old Section 124A, the crime was "exciting disaffection" against the government established by law. The Supreme Court, in the landmark 1962 Kedar Nath Singh judgment, had read this down significantly to apply only to acts that incited violence or public disorder. Mere criticism of the government was, in theory, protected.

The new Section 152 penalizes acts that "excite secession," "armed rebellion," or "subversive activities," or encourage "feelings of separatist activities." On the surface, this targets threats to the nation (India) rather than the government. However, the term "subversive activities" remains undefined in the BNS. In the last 18 months, this ambiguity has become the new battleground for civil liberties. Prosecutors have argued that "subversive" covers not just violent rebellion but also "intellectual subversion"—propaganda that undermines faith in the constitution or the integrity of the state.

The 18-Month Record In late 2024 and throughout 2025, the application of Section 152 has shown a distinct shift from the old 124A patterns.

Decline in "Petty" Sedition: There has been a statistical drop in FIRs filed against journalists for mere criticism of government policy. The shift in language from "disaffection against government" to "sovereignty of India" appears to have raised the threshold for registration of FIRs in some states.

The "Subversive" Trap: Conversely, there has been a rise in cases where "subversive activities" is interpreted broadly. In a high-profile case in late 2025, a digital campaign advocating for radical autonomy in a border state was booked under Section 152. The defense argued this was peaceful advocacy; the prosecution labeled it "separatist feelings."

The punishment under Section 152 is also more severe—up to seven years or life imprisonment, removing the odd "three years" provision of the IPC.

II. The Hit-and-Run Crisis: Section 106(2) No provision of the BNS caused more immediate public disruption than Section 106(2). This section deals with "causing death by negligence" where the driver flees the scene.

Under the old IPC (Section 304A), causing death by negligence was a bailable offense with a maximum two-year sentence. It was practically a revolving door: drivers involved in fatal accidents were often out on bail within hours. The BNS sought to change this by distinguishing between drivers who stay and report the accident and those who run.

106(1): If you stay or report the accident: maximum 5 years.

106(2): If you flee and fail to report to a police officer/magistrate: maximum 10 years and a fine.

The Protests and the Pause The logic of the law is sound: it incentivizes responsible behavior. However, it ignored the sociological reality of Indian roads—mob justice. Truck drivers across India launched massive strikes in early 2024, arguing that staying at the scene of an accident often means being lynched by a mob before the police arrive.

Facing a supply chain collapse, the government initially put Section 106(2) in abeyance. Over the last 18 months, a compromise has been hammered out. The provision is now active, but with unofficial Standard Operating Procedures (SOPs) issued to police forces. The focus has shifted to "reporting" rather than "staying." Drivers are encouraged to flee the scene for their safety but must report to a station within a specific radius immediately.

The Impact on Road Safety Has it worked? Preliminary data for 2025 indicates a slight uptick in "reported" accidents, suggesting the fear of the 10-year sentence is real. However, the conviction rate has not yet caught up. The burden of proof—proving the driver escaped rather than went to report—has added a new layer of complexity to trials. Furthermore, the fear of the law has led to a new phenomenon: "ghost drivers," where vehicle owners hire proxies to take the blame (and the lighter sentence under 106(1)) by claiming they were the ones driving and stayed to report.

III. The Digital Justice Revolution: Promise vs. Infrastructure The most transformative aspect of the BNS—and its procedural twin, the Bharatiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita (BNSS)—is the mandate for digital evidence.

The BNS era operates on the principle that "cameras don't lie."

Mandatory Videography: Police are now required to videograph the search and seizure process for the evidence to be admissible in court.

e-FIRs: The ability to file First Information Reports electronically for certain crimes.

Forensics: Mandatory forensic team visits for crimes punishable by seven years or more.

The "Data Dump" Crisis In the first six months (late 2024), the system nearly collapsed under the weight of data. Police stations in rural districts, equipped with entry-level smartphones, began recording terabytes of video footage of crime scenes and seizures. The challenge wasn't recording; it was storage and chain of custody.

By mid-2025, reports emerged of "corrupted files" becoming the new "lost case diary." Defense lawyers quickly adapted, challenging the integrity of the digital hash values. If a video file’s metadata showed it was modified (even just by transferring it from phone to PC), the seizure could be declared void.

However, where it has worked, it has been revolutionary. In metropolitan areas like Delhi, Mumbai, and Bengaluru, the conviction rate for drug seizures has spiked because police can no longer plant evidence easily when the entire search is being live-streamed to a central server.

IV. The "Date Rape" Loophole: Section 69 Another significant addition was Section 69, which criminalizes "sexual intercourse by employing deceitful means." This specifically targets cases where men promise marriage to have sex and then renege—a scenario that courts struggled to fit under the old rape laws (Section 375).

The "Deceit" Definition The law defines "deceitful means" to include false promises of employment, promotion, or marriage, or suppressing one’s identity. In 2025, this section saw high usage. It provided recourse to women who were essentially conned into relationships. However, it also opened a Pandora's box of interpretation. Courts are now grappling with distinguishing between a "false promise" (where the intent to marry never existed) and a "broken promise" (where the intent existed but circumstances changed).

Defense lawyers argue that Section 69 effectively criminalizes breakups, turning failed relationships into felonies punishable by up to 10 years in jail. The Supreme Court is currently hearing a batch of petitions seeking guidelines to prevent the misuse of this section in consensual relationships that simply didn't work out.

V. Community Service: A New Paradigm For the first time in Indian legal history, the BNS introduced Community Service (Samaj Seva) as a punishment for petty crimes like defamation, public intoxication, and theft of property under ₹5,000.

This has been the quiet success story of the BNS. Instead of clogging jails with first-time offenders, magistrates in 2025 have handed out creative sentences: cleaning public parks, managing traffic for a week, or teaching at government schools. This restorative justice approach has not only decongested prisons but also saved the state money. It marks a philosophical shift from "retribution" to "reformation" that legal scholars have long advocated.

Conclusion: The Verdict is Still Out Eighteen months is a blink of an eye in legal history. The IPC lasted 164 years; the BNS is just a toddler.

The transition has been messy, expensive, and at times, confusing. The new numbering system alone—where murder is no longer "302" but "103"—has caused headaches for lawyers, judges, and police officers who had the old numbers hardwired into their brains.

However, the BNS represents a necessary modernization. It acknowledges that we live in a world of digital footprints, gig economies, and complex social relationships. The "Hit and Run" protests showed that laws cannot be drafted in ivory towers; they must account for the dust and grime of the street. The "Sedition vs. Treason" debate reminds us that changing a name doesn't change the nature of power.

As we move forward, the true test of the BNS will not be in the text of the law, but in the integrity of the constable who records the video, the magistrate who interprets "deceit," and the judge who decides if a dissenter is a traitor or a patriot. The code has changed; now the culture must follow.