DIGITAL COLONIALISM: HOW BIG TECHS MARGINALIZE INDIGENOUS RIGHTS
Written by Aakash Varma & Prasi Jain students at Gujarat National Law University, Silvassa Campus Indigenous knowledge is not only the foundation of modern science; it is also what could be described as the reference and referral centre- by Suman Suhaiu Indigenous knowledge systems were preserved through narrative, song, Aboriginal Rock Art, Paintings, and sacred spaces in recent times. Now, such knowledge is being digitized and commodified without one’s consent, silently learned by cloud servers ruled by Big Tech terms and conditions rather than Indigenous treaties or tribal law. The Big Tech corporations are not just providing platforms; they are redefining ownership, their identity, and governance in digital spaces at the cost of Indigenous rights. This has been termed as digital colonialism, in which Global North Big Techs control the Global South’s data and their virtual space. Unlike traditional colonialism, in which colonizers took control over the land and labour, this new world takes data, including the cultural heritage, knowledge systems, and languages of Indigenous peoples. This blog attempts to illustrate how Big Techs of the global north practice exclusion and marginalization of Indigenous peoples. We examine how digital infrastructure and data governance systems reiterate colonial hierarchies in the name of progress and inclusion of all. Because in a more networked and coded world, Indigenous sovereignty must extend beyond land, into data, algorithms, and the digital future itself. A single decree rearranged the world in 1493. The Papal Bull “Inter Caetera” by Pope Alexander VI granted Spain the divine right to take over, convert, and colonize the new lands, known as terra nullius (vacant lands), so-called “discovered” by Columbus, which Indigenous Peoples already inhabited and nowadays known as the “Doctrine of Discovery”. Today, the same pattern is repeated via digital colonialism, as Big Tech corporations of the Global North dominate data, infrastructure, and digital ecosystems. Just as the Papal Bull rendered Indigenous nations invisible to the law, platform governance today disenfranchises Indigenous peoples from the ownership of their data, their representation, and their access to digital means. There is hidden consent in legal “terms and conditions.” Data are pulled out, commodified, and centralised, sometimes even without consultation or benefit to the very same people who create it. As with imperial monopolies, tech monopolies design algorithms and data silos that solidify control. And where colonialism had its “civilization” excuse, Big Tech is now using “innovation” and “connectivity” as a moral rationale for digital extractivism.The legal instrument may differ from that time, from papal bulls to policies, but the rationale behind it is similar; some will dominate and define the world, while others are expected to accept it and adapt. This blog focuses on Adivasi communities dwelling in the Niyamgiri Hills, such as the Dongria Kondh of Odisha. Each stream, each forest, each animal has deep meaning for them, and the territory is ecological as well as spiritual for them. They went out against mining ventures because they feared that destruction of the habitat, water contamination as well as deforestation would compromise the environment and their way of life. Māori Tribe of New Zealand, who are considered the original settlers of two large islands known as New Zealand, protested against the government as they misused census data collected for the 2023 census. How Digital Platforms affect Indigenous community? For indigenous people, digital platforms are a double-edged sword. They provide voice and visibility, but they also carry the potential of cultural dilution, exploitation, and commodification. Negative impacts of Digital Platforms on Indigenous community: With 76.9% of the top 10 most spoken languages in the world, these languages dominate digital content. The lack of support for indigenous scripts restricts participation and the sharing of the information. Native language loss and cultural deterioration are further accelerated by language simplification by digital platforms. Digital media interactions have an effect on indigenous people’s mental health especially when these platforms facilitate online harassment and their community is subject to mockery. Indigenous digital sovereignty means the right of the indigenous community to exercise control over their digital assets, data, and infrastructure that supports the community. The Digital Personal Data Protection Act (DPDPA) 2023 introduced by Indian government sidelines collective data rights needed for indigenous peoples in favour of individual rights of consent, correction, and erasure. It contains no special protections for data from AI, digital mapping, surveillance systems, or health systems. Indigenous digital sovereignty is exposed as processes of consent are at cross purposes and out of reach due to language, culture, and technological barriers. UNDRIP affirms individual rights over cultural heritage and it supports data sovereignty, but it is nonbinding in nature, and this affects countries like India. The principle of Free, Prior and Informed Consent (FPIC) is for indigenous communities, but it is hard to enforce digitally. India’s DPDP Act is not well-suited to the demands of Indigenous peoples because it emphasizes individual consent and lacks community-based methods. The execution of FPIC is further undermined by digital illiteracy, power disparities, and disregard for collective rights, which exposes Indigenous digital data to abuse. In the tribal areas of Andhra Pradesh, India, a new pattern of colonization is unfolding, yet not through violence, but through data and control of the digital realm. Through the Andhra Pradesh Rural Inclusive Growth Project (APRIGP), digital platforms were created to track and monitor Adivasi (Indigenous) farmers, purportedly facilitating agribusiness inclusion. Instead of empowerment, these technologies have undercut customary governance and disrespected Free, Prior, and Informed Consent following the colonial trends. Village councils were excluded as the corporate actors adopted top-down digital systems without local involvement. In this case, data governance is a space of dispossession, where technology shapes land, labor, and identity that communities are not able to shape. Big Tech Platforms and the Mental Health Crisis Among Indigenous Youth Native American tribes in the U.S. have sued Big Tech for claiming that platform algorithms damage Indigenous youth and exacerbate mental health emergencies. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, Native American teenagers have a statistically higher rate of suicide in their communities, which is up
Coding the Climate: Digital Colonialism in Global Environmental Governance
Written by Sanya Darakhshan Kishwar, Assistant Professor & Sakkcham Singh Parmaar student at Jindal Global Law School, O.P. Jindal Global University Abstract This paper explores how digital colonialism reshapes global climate policy by concentrating environmental data and technological control in the hands of powerful tech-corporations. It critiques the marginalisation of indigenous knowledge systems and sovereignty, revealing how digital infrastructures perpetuate historical inequities under the guise of sustainability and innovation. Keywords: Digital Colonialism, Climate Governance, Environmental Data Sovereignty, Indigenous Knowledge Systems. In the digitally interlinked world that we live in, technological innovations and interventions are intrinsic to guiding climate policies and actions. However, with digital progress, there is a parallel emergence of the dangerous trend of “digital colonialism”. Digital colonialism seeks to reconfigure global environmental governance by handing over critical ecological data to dominant tech-corporations, often relegating indigenous knowledge and people in the process. The emergence of digital colonialism is indicative of the fact that, only a few multinational technology corporations seem to hold the power and control over environmental data and technologies. A good example is that of Amazon’s “ Climate Pledge” to reach net-zero carbon emissions by the year 2040 through investments in renewable energy projects and sustainable business practices. Though laudable, the projects have been vehemently criticised for perpetuating colonialism by involving the extraction of natural resources from tribal lands or the building of renewable infrastructure without any commitment to safeguarding indigenous rights and their knowledge systems. Such failures continue a long-standing pattern of marginalisation that ignores the dignity and command over environmental stewardship by indigenous peoples, who by all means are the principal custodians of biodiversity and climate resilience.Examples like these demonstrate how historical inequities continue to be perpetuated in the garb of climate policy and action. These corporations monopolise important climate data that form the basis of monitoring and mitigation as well as adaptation strategies. In the longer run, they go on to influence monumental climate policies almost exclusively inclined towards a west-centric approach. Resultantly, this suppresses the voices of indigenous and local communities that have for centuries sustainably stewarded the ecosystems. This new form of colonialism calls for critical reflection since digital technologies have insinuated themselves into environmental governance at various levels, from data collection and storage to policy formulation, often cementing already existing inequalities in power, race, and geography. Therefore, the authors attempt to examine how digital colonialism shapes global climate governance by concentrating environmental data and technological power in corporate hands, marginalising indigenous knowledge systems, and perpetuating historical inequities under the guise of sustainability. Non-consideration of indigenous practices in the design and deployment of Artificial Intelligence (‘AI’)-based forest monitoring tools could lead to misinterpretations of environmental dynamics and unintended consequences, including the criminalisation of certain customary land and forest management practices. The marginalisation of indigenous perspectives in the development of AI and algorithmic systems reflects a broader pattern of technological design rooted in Global North epistemologies. This dynamic perpetuates a form of digital neo-colonialism; wherein environmental surveillance technologies reinforce existing power imbalances and further erode indigenous knowledge systems and land stewardship practices. For instance, India’s ambitious Smart City projects epitomise the digital colonialism dilemmas in urban and environmental planning. Particularly in Mumbai’s Aarey Colony, infrastructure development aimed at technological modernisation has trespassed on adivasi (tribal) lands leading to displacement and disruption of traditional lifestyles deeply intertwined with ecological well-being. These projects have fashioned themselves on high-level climate models and data analytics, which have hardly fitted the local ecological contexts and indigenous knowledge systems. Consequently, the adivasi communities find their rights over land and natural resources degraded, entirely sidelined in climate adaptation and sustainability frameworks that prioritise technology-led modernisation over culturally and environmentally grounded approaches. This, in turn leads to exclusionary urban policies that marginalise those most dependent upon and knowledgeable of natural ecosystems, drawing further attention to the dissonance between technocratic climate governance and indigenous environmental justice. Similarly, in Kenya, advanced AI-based tools such as M-Situ are deployed to track illegal logging through detection of the chainsaw, fire, and disturbances to the forest. It provides an agency for real-time engagement with the most activities threatening the forests and thus allows swift alerts to forest rangers for effective intervention. However, while high-tech, this approach, more often than not, ignores traditional ecological knowledge, such as controlled burning, which is important for the therapeutic conservation of forest health, biodiversity, and fire control. India and Kenya serve as compelling case studies from the Global South, where digital colonialism intersects with climate governance. Both countries showcase ambitious technological interventions in environmental management, yet reveal how such innovations often marginalise indigenous communities, raising critical questions about data sovereignty, equity, and the neo-colonial dynamics of digital development as well as echoing the need for addressing gaps in the existing legal and policy frameworks. There is a pressing need to address the legal and policy gaps that allow digital colonialism to persist unchallenged. This includes developing regulatory frameworks that are responsive to the sociotechnical complexities of AI and that centre the rights and knowledge systems of historically marginalised communities. The innovative technological solutions displayed at the 28th United Nations Climate Change Conference (‘COP28’) were almost extravagantly hailed as corporate-led responses to the challenge posed by climate change. The most high-profile example was Microsoft’s “Planetary Computer,” which would aggregate large volumes of environmental data and facilitate all sorts of sustainable efforts via AI-dependent cloud computing. Although such platforms offer robust analytical capability to a user, the pre-eminence raises issues about data governance, ownership, and inclusivity, which have become increasingly serious. Placing environmental data in unaccountable corporate systems risks digital colonialism, excluding indigenous voices and reinforcing global inequities without consent, transparency, or benefit-sharing frameworks. In opposition to these models, generations of indigenous Latin Americans have relied on Buen Vivir for a more collective, holistic view of what it means to manage the environment and sovereignty over data. Buen Vivir embodies all the indigenous philosophies that recognise the necessary balance between welfare and the interrelationship with nature, in terms of collectivising the ownership