By Mr. K R Subramanian | CORD Arbitrator
Online Dispute Resolution (ODR) in India has transformed justice delivery over the past decade. What began as limited digital mediation and small-value arbitration has grown into a parallel system that resolves disputes with a speed, efficiency, and accessibility traditional forums often lack. As someone empanelled with multiple ODR institutions, I have seen this change firsthand. Technology has not simply digitised old processes; it has expanded access to justice for people who might never approach a court or tribunal.
But every fast-growing system reaches a point where the law must pause and recalibrate. Two recent High Court decisions—L&T Finance Ltd. v. Amina Fuels (Calcutta High Court, 2026) and Ajazul Haque Khan v. ICICI Bank (Bombay High Court, 2026)—mark such a moment. These rulings do not reject technology or digital processes. They simply remind us that ODR must evolve within the framework of the Arbitration and Conciliation Act, 1996.
The courts have not criticised ODR institutions or questioned the integrity of arbitrators and platforms. They have stressed that tribunal appointments must reflect the same neutrality, equal participation, and informed consent required in traditional arbitration. This is not a setback, but a clear reminder that innovation must remain rooted in fairness.
In Amina Fuels, the Calcutta High Court examined how an arbitral tribunal was constituted through an ODR institution. It held that even where an institution is involved, one party—especially one with a commercial interest—cannot unilaterally trigger the appointment process in a way that sidesteps Sections 12(5), 18, and 11 of the Act. The Court made clear that a digital platform cannot make unilateral appointment lawful if it would be unlawful offline.
In Ajazul Haque Khan, the Bombay High Court went further and examined the dispute resolution clause itself. It found that, although framed as online mediation and arbitration, the clause effectively let one party initiate the process through an institution of its choice. The Court reiterated that an arbitrator may be appointed only in two ways: by both parties’ consent or by the Court under Section 11. ODR, it said, must function within the same legal limits as offline arbitration.
Some see these decisions as a challenge to ODR. I see them as an invitation to refine processes, strengthen foundations, and build greater trust. ODR has already introduced valuable innovation into justice delivery, and addressing gaps in respondent consent is simply the next step in its evolution.
A key theme in both judgments is informed consent. Digital processes move quickly—notice is sent electronically, workflows begin automatically, and hearings can be scheduled fast. But speed cannot replace clarity. Respondents must understand what arbitration and ODR involve, what rights they have, and how the arbitrator is being appointed. The courts are not saying consent is absent; they are saying it must be clearer, more explicit, and more participatory.
Technology can help close this gap. Digital platforms can explain arbitration in plain language, send notices through multiple channels, and record delivery and acknowledgement. They can provide short explainer videos, AI-generated summaries of arbitration clauses, and even cooling-off periods before any appointment is made. Used well, technology can strengthen informed consent rather than weaken it.
These are not radical ideas. They reflect global best practices. In the United States, consumer arbitration protocols stress clear disclosures and explicit acceptance. In the United Kingdom, institutions encourage early communication and written acknowledgement. In the European Union, the ODR Regulation requires both parties to agree to the chosen ADR body before proceedings begin. India can adapt these principles to its own legal and cultural context.
The judgments also underscore the need for clarity in appointments. ODR institutions have already built transparent and efficient systems. The next step is to ensure that arbitrator appointments reflect equal participation by both parties. This does not mean abandoning institutional appointments; it means grounding them in mutual consent or statutory authority, and documenting that consent clearly and verifiably.
ODR remains a young ecosystem in India, driven by the need for faster, more accessible, and more efficient dispute resolution. The courts are not resisting that growth. They are ensuring that it develops on legally sound and procedurally fair foundations. This is not disruption; it is refinement, and refinement is essential for long-term sustainability.
For practitioners like me who have seen ODR’s benefits firsthand, this is a moment for optimism, not concern. The ecosystem is maturing, the law is providing clarity, and institutions are already innovating. Users stand to gain from a system that is not only efficient but also transparent and fair.
ODR in India has a strong future, but it must keep evolving. These judgments remind us that technology must work within the law, not outside it. If institutions, arbitrators, lenders, and users strengthen informed consent and procedural clarity together, India can build one of the world’s most trusted ODR ecosystems.
This is a moment for reflection, not retreat; for collaboration, not confrontation; and for evolution, not resistance. If we respond in that spirit, ODR will not merely survive—it will thrive as a key part of India’s digital justice future.
The Reality of Borrower Hostility and the Search for a Sustainable Consent Model
At some point in every lending relationship, law meets human behaviour. Once a borrower defaults, the emotional landscape changes. The borrower may be anxious, angry, embarrassed, or overwhelmed, and may avoid calls, ignore messages, or react defensively. In that state, expecting calm engagement with an arbitration notice or appointment process is unrealistic. The courts understand this reality.
That is why the solution cannot depend on borrower cooperation after default. By then, incentives have changed, trust has eroded, and willingness to engage has faded. Any system that relies on post-default consent is likely to fail—not because the law is flawed, but because human behaviour is predictable.
The only sustainable solution is to shift informed consent to the pre-default stage, when the borrower is still receptive and able to understand their rights. Consent obtained then is both more genuine and more defensible. That is why many strong arbitration frameworks—from credit cards to insurance—rely on standing consent secured at onboarding.
Once standing consent exists, the dispute-stage process becomes a matter of opportunity, not cooperation. The law does not require enthusiasm; it requires a fair chance to participate. If the borrower stays silent, that does not undo earlier consent. It simply triggers the statutory fallback under Section 11, where the lender approaches the Court. That is not a failure of ODR, but the lawful next step when one party refuses to engage.
In this model, technology’s role changes. Instead of trying to extract consent from a hostile borrower, it records fairness. It can show that notices were sent through multiple channels, that the borrower had time to respond, that they were invited to nominate an arbitrator, and that they chose not to participate. Courts do not penalise lenders for non-cooperation; they penalise unilateralism and opacity. A transparent, documented process puts the lender on firm ground.
There is a deeper psychological truth here: a defaulting borrower is usually not rejecting arbitration itself, but reacting to the stress of default. They are avoiding the lender, not necessarily the dispute-resolution process. No amount of digital nudging can fully change that. The system must therefore work even when the borrower is emotionally unavailable.
Conclusion
The future of ODR in lending therefore lies not in chasing dispute-stage consent, but in front-loading consent, documenting it carefully, and using statutory mechanisms when cooperation breaks down. This approach respects borrower rights, matches judicial expectations, and reflects the emotional reality of default. It also protects the integrity of ODR from being undermined by predictable behaviour.
Ultimately, the courts are not asking lenders to perform miracles; they are asking them to be fair. Fairness does not require post-default cooperation. It requires clarity at the start, transparency throughout, and restraint at the end. If those elements are present, the process remains legally sound even when the borrower refuses to engage.