A bold start, not the finish line

Karnataka’s Platform-Based Gig Workers (Social Security and Welfare) Ordinance 2025, promulgated on May 27 to fulfill the Congress’ 2023 election manifesto pledge, aims to cover roughly five lakh platform workers. Reading the text line by line, one finds an ambitious attempt to translate years of policy discussion into a legal instrument that promises visibility, income security, and dignity to thousands who until now have carried the risks of the digital marketplace alone. Yet the very clauses that kindle hope also reveal weaknesses that will determine whether the ordinance matures into a durable rights charter or remains a well-intentioned template.

The most striking feature is the creation of a dedicated Karnataka Platform-Based Gig Workers Welfare Board. In theory, the Board embodies tripartite governance: ministers and senior bureaucrats sit alongside representatives of workers, platforms, and civil society. In practice, however, the five ex-officio government members can team up with four platform delegates to form a nine-strong voting bloc, easily outnumbering the four worker seats and two civil society voices. All four worker representatives must still be “nominated by the State”. Without an in-built parity clause or an independent chair – say, a retired judge – labour voices risk being out-voted on the very design of benefits meant to protect them. The ordinance speaks the language of co-determination but stops short of guaranteeing it.

Much of the financial architecture rests on the ‘Gig Workers Welfare Fee’. A levy of 1-5% on each payout, to be collected quarterly, feeds a state-managed fund from which social security benefits are to flow. Yet, nothing in the text prevents platforms from recouping the fee by tweaking algorithms that set fares or incentives. Unless the Board gains authority to inspect platforms’ underlying fare calculations frequently by comparing what drivers would have earned before the fee with their actual net pay, the cost of protection may ultimately be borne by the very workers it seeks to insure.

Clauses on contractual fairness represent an important shift. Contracts must be transparent; changes require 14 days’ notice; workers gain an explicit right to refuse tasks. But the ordinance does not articulate a minimum pay floor; instead, it refers to “fair terms of piece-rate and/or time-rate norms” without anchoring those terms to an external benchmark such as the statutory minimum wage. Section 14, likewise, protects workers from termination without written reason and notice except in cases of “bodily harm,” a term the text fails to define. Precision here is not pedantry: undefined exceptions invite expansive interpretation, and the balance of power still favours the platforms.

Grievance redress follows a two-tier model. First comes an Internal Dispute Resolution Committee constituted by each platform; unresolved complaints escalate to the Board. The timelines i.e., 14 days for action, 45 days for closure, are commendably tight, but the initial forum remains captive to the employer. Worker confidence will depend on whether committees include elected peer representatives and publish decisions with reasons.

A missed opportunity

The penalty regime raises the sharpest eyebrows. A first contravention by the aggregator or platform attracts a fine up to Rs 5,000, rising to Rs one lakh for repeat violations. Even a cursory glance at platform revenues, that run into thousands of crores of rupees, suggests these sums belong to a bygone economy. Deterrence is a function of both probability and pain; here, the second component is negligible. Until fines are calibrated to the turnover or the transaction volume, compliance may remain cheaper than conformity.

Politically, the ordinance misses a leverage point. Despite senior Congress leader Rahul Gandhi’s rallying cry of jitni abadi, utna haq and Chief Minister Siddaramaiah’s emphasis on Kannadiga welfare, it offers no incentives, such as tax breaks, for platforms that meet voluntary targets for hiring Karnataka domiciles and marginalised castes. Writing such conditional carrots into the rules could have married social justice with clear rewards for compliant aggregators, widening the law’s reach and ensuring its benefits flow to those who need them most.

Taken together, these gaps leave the ordinance looking less like a finished bridge than a set of scaffolds. While it is a milestone in recognising gig work as a distinct and vital sector, it leaves critical holes in worker representation, algorithmic oversight, real deterrents against non-compliance, and meaningful measures to drive inclusion. To turn this well-intentioned blueprint into a durable charter of rights, the Karnataka Legislative Assembly must strengthen the ordinance through open debate and continuous stakeholder engagement. Do that, and the state could give India a model worth emulating; leave the gaps as they are, and five lakh riders and drivers will still be crossing on planks that creak.

(The writer is a lawyer and research consultant)

Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.