Stop assuming a one-size-fits-all digital future

India’s tech policies can either chase the mirage of 100% digital adoption or embrace the messy, complicated reality of its diverse population

The thing about how we interact with technologies is that there seems to be an implicit faith in the idea that the more technology we have, the more ‘progress’ we’ve made.

This direct linking of hi-tech solutions with notions of progress has created somewhat of a blind spot in policy and development paradigms. In this techno-centric universe, an important set of people tend to get left behind, or worse, forgotten. This category is that of non-users.

Netherlands-based technology scholar Sally Wyatt has made a compelling case for focussing on non-users. She argues that focussing solely of technology users risks marginalising those who, for various reasons, do not adopt new technologies. In India, where diversity and inequality coexist in complex ways, keeping non-users in mind while formulating technology policies is not only ethical but also pragmatic.

There is, of course, something to be said for hi-tech solutions for India. India has over 750 million Internet users, it’s electronic manufacturing sector is projected to expand to $604 billion by 2032, and systems such as Aadhaar and Digital India are working to bring more and more people into the digital realm every day. But in this frenzy of digital utopianism, where the dream is that everyone is connected, we tend to forget that there are a significant number of people who live outside this bubble. Those 750 million Internet users are part of an Internet penetration rate of only about 52 per cent.

Non-users are not some faceless group living under a rock (though, to be fair, given the state of connectivity in several parts of India, they might as well be). They include the almost 48 per cent of Indians who still don’t have Internet access; senior citizens baffled by app notifications and QR codes; those who are still unable to afford individual smartphones; and many times, women whose digital agency continues to be curtailed by patriarchal norms. There are also, of course, conscientious objectors, the people who look at tech with a raised eyebrow and ask, ‘What are you doing with my data?’

For every flashy fintech app rolled out in India, there are countless stories of people left out in the cold. Take the push for cashless payments — great news for urbanites with credit cards and UPI apps, not so much for a small farmer in rural north India who doesn’t own a smartphone. Or consider Aadhaar, the world’s largest biometric identification system, which has been lauded as a technological marvel. It’s also been a logistical nightmare for countless Indians whose livelihoods depend on welfare schemes, but who lack the digital literacy to navigate the system.

Ignoring non-users in tech policies isn’t just unfair — it’s bad strategy. These are the people who highlight the gaps, the blind spots, and the unintended consequences of technological adoption. They’re not Luddites. They’re canaries in the coal mine.

Wyatt points out that non-users — those who do not adopt or use a given technology — are just as important as users in understanding technological development and societal impacts. She classifies non-users of technology into three distinct groups: resisters, who consciously reject technology for ideological or cultural reasons; rejecters, who once used technology but have stopped; and the excluded, who are left out due to systemic barriers like poverty, lack of infrastructure, or digital illiteracy.

Wyatt’s framework challenges the assumption that non-users are merely ‘behind the times’. Instead, she suggests their choices — whether intentional or circumstantial — are deeply rooted in their social, cultural, and political contexts.

This idea flips the script on the common narrative that non-use is a deficiency or a problem to be fixed. She argues that non-use can be a deliberate and rational decision that reflects scepticism about technology's role in society. Whether it’s a farmer wary of digital payments due to unreliable Internet access or a privacy-conscious individual resisting biometric systems, non-use can serve as a form of resistance or critique against systems that fail to address broader societal needs.

Her analysis pushes us to adopt a more inclusive lens in thinking about technology adoption — one that doesn’t frame non-users as simply obstacles to progress. Instead, she emphasises that their perspectives are crucial to understanding how technology shapes, and is shaped by, society. Non-use, far from being passive, is often a meaningful engagement with technology’s promises and limitations, reminding us that a more equitable future lies not in universal adoption, but in designing systems that account for all.

So, what can we do? For starters, we can stop assuming that the digital future is one-size-fits-all. Hybrid models that integrate offline and online systems can ensure broader access. Government services, for instance, should remain available through physical offices, not just apps, and websites. India’s tech policies can either chase the mirage of 100 per cent digital adoption or embrace the messy, complicated reality of its diverse population.

Non-users aren’t just outliers; they’re integral to the story of technology in India. Ignoring them isn’t just unjust — it’s a missed opportunity to create systems that work for everyone.

(Vidya Subramanian is associate professor at Jindal Global Law School (JGLS). X: @ vidyas42.)

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