At just 10 years old, Abhinav Arora has garnered nearly a million followers on Instagram – as a spiritual leader. He is not alone. There are many other ‘kid-gurus’ being celebrated by thousands, but their popularity exposes a troubling reality: the failure of India’s legal system to protect the children at the heart of this new digital phenomenon.

India’s reverence for spiritual leadership is centuries old. Asceticism and pursuit of moksha have shaped cultural identity and social structures. But in the digital age, social media has become the new ashram, where even children are now portrayed as spiritual figures.

Childhood is a period for learning, play, and growth. Yet, for kid-gurus, childhood is often sacrificed at the altar of religious branding and fame. Their identities are curated by adults acting as their managers and promoters, handpicking every post and public appearance. Such children become a symbol of collective spiritual aspiration; their individual rights and desires shrouded by expectations of both followers and family. This raises questions: Can a child truly consent to a lifelong spiritual path and identity, and can religious freedom justify denying a child’s basic rights?

These questions find little clarity within India’s legal framework. Child-influencer activities come under the ambit of ‘family-enterprise’, allowing guardians to bypass safeguards against child exploitation. Right to Education Act, 2009 mandates education up to age 14; however, there is no mechanism to ensure that this mandate is actually implemented. Child Labour (Prohibition and Regulation) Act, 1986 and related child protection statutes are similarly outdated, written for an era way before social media, and do not account for the unique challenges of children thrust into influencer-business. Additionally, the Indian Contract Act, 1872 nullifies the agreements entered into by minors, so brand deals and sponsorships are signed by parents. These contracts are legally unenforceable, and guardians can retain full control over the child’s income, with no financial protection for the child. The issue becomes especially peculiar when a child’s digital persona generates income and influence, as in the case of Abhinav.

The United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child (UNCRC), ratified by India in 1992, outlines clear protections including the child’s best interest as paramount (Article 3); the right to express views and opportunity to be heard (Article 12); protection from exploitation (Article 19); right to primary education (Article 28); and protection from economic exploitation (Article 32). Yet, Indian law lacks a structured process to determine whether a child-influencer’s public role is truly voluntary, age-appropriate, and aligned with their best interests.

India needs to develop digital labour regulations that legally recognise child-influencer work. A central regulatory body may be established to monitor the participation of children in monetised content creation. Additionally, engagement of children in long-term public roles should be subject to periodic psychological evaluation to assess their emotional readiness and prevent coercion masked as consent when it comes to content creation. India can look to legislations like California’s Coogan Law, which requires a portion of child actors’ earnings to be put in protected trust accounts. Similarly, France has enacted special legislation to regulate child-influencers, including requirements for platform registration, income protection, and time limits.

Social media platforms, too, must be held accountable. Age-restrictions are easily circumvented when adults ‘manage’ accounts featuring and monetising children. India’s draft Data Protection Rules relies on parental consent for children’s online presence, but this assumes child’s consent is always informed and voluntary. The issue of consent is fraught. Children are incapable of understanding lifelong implications of sacrificing autonomy and conventional education for a spiritual public identity.

In conclusion, while India’s Constitution guarantees religious freedom, and its ratification of UNCRC affirms its commitment to child rights, these alone are not enough. They do not resolve the deeper conflict between collective spiritual traditions and the independent rights of kid-gurus. India cannot continue to conflate religious freedom with digital child-labour. The right to spiritual expression must never obscure a child’s right to education, health, play, and mental well-being. If faith is allowed to override child rights in the name of culture, it represents a failure not only of duty to children, but also towards the very essence of India’s constitutional and international obligations.