Sanchar Saathi could secure telecom networks but its success should be determined by its appeal as an app

DoT has asked smartphone makers to pre-install a government-run cybersecurity app called Sanchar Saathi on all new devices. This app must be placed prominently to catch attention the first time a phone is used. Despatched handsets would have to be loaded through remote updates of software.

One wouldn’t have flinched had it not been for the order’s mandatory nature. Manufacturers seem taken by surprise and left staring at an awkward burden. If phones already in use are also targeted for compulsory installation, the app could acquire all-India reach.

Since the app’s backbone is a central device registry, this may serve the purpose of ensuring that every phone—identified by its unique IMEI number—is held by its rightful owner, thus reducing the scope for telecom misuse, especially via fake IMEIs. Coercion, however, arouses suspicion, which is reason enough for a rethink.

To be sure, telecom minister Jyotiraditya Scindia has said that it would be possible to offload Sanchar Saathi. This is a choice everyone must have. Asking people to opt out if they don’t want it, instead of opting in if they do, may be consistent with ‘nudge theory’ to promote adoption. But it does little to allay fears of the app’s very activation resulting in privacy exposure, given that India’s personal data protection regime is yet to take effect, although the government has carved out escape hatches for itself from this law, and the app asks for access to a bewildering range of one’s data.

One way to reassure the concerned would be to have an independent agency verify that the app does not exceed its stated security brief, nor pry into private spaces. The surest way to soften market resistance, though, would be to let the app’s utility lead its adoption curve.

As reported, it has already notched up millions of downloads. Voluntary usage has seen other government apps make headway. The facial recognition backbone of DigiYatra helps users breeze through airport security, for example. DigiLocker lets us digitally store and share official documents like Aadhaar; traffic police need no longer be handed over licence cards, as the app lets a verified digital version be shown.

The primary pitch of Sanchar Saathi, which means ‘communication partner’ in Hindi, is the ease with which it allows one to get a stolen or lost phone blocked, killing chances of its misuse. It also lets us report spam and guard against identity theft by checking if mystery mobile connections exist in our name. Those who see value in this package do not need a push to install the app. Its appeal should suffice.

In general, it would be best if state-run apps compete with others for phone space. Manufacturers already have various rules to comply with and should be spared a pre-loading burden. How Apple responds is of particular interest, as it claims to run costly tests on apps before it lets them onto its devices.

DoT could argue that it is in every stakeholder’s interest to keep Indian telecom networks secure. But it should weigh this point against what its mandate implies for the liberty of businesses and the freedom of phone users to choose apps. For Sanchar Saathi to act as a protective shield, it must win public confidence, not demand it.