The Promotion and Regulation of Online Gaming Bill, 2025, passed in Parliament, has generated a lot of sound and fury, something India’s corporate and regulatory history is familiar with. Between 2002 and 2004, the then Reliance Infocomm began offering full mobility services using a technology licensed only for limited mobility. Telecom companies that had paid heavily for proper full mobility licences cried foul. They accused Reliance of gaming the system, exploiting regulatory haze, and undermining a level playing field. Reliance’s defence was what one often hears in such situations. Millions were using its services, cancelling its licence would be a disservice to them. The argument was not about legality but scale, about the impossibility of rolling back something that had become too big to ignore. Finally, rather than punish Reliance or roll back its services, the issue was settled by legalising it via a new framework called the unified access service licence.

In 2008, then telecom minister A Raja distributed licences to a dozen new firms throwing processes and rules to the wind. When the Supreme Court cancelled the licences in 2012, a section of critics and the companies involved argued that investments worth billions of rupees and thousands of jobs were at stake. But the sector today is definitely healthier .

These episodes unfolded in a sector that was already regulated by a statutory body. Yet companies, ministers, and bureaucrats found ways to operate in grey zones. The moment tough regulatory or judicial action came, the industry’s first reaction was to invoke fears of investment loss, job destruction, and the call for regulation rather than prohibition. But regulation often provided a shield behind practices of convenience. Rules were bent, licences gamed, and innovation was made to appear inseparable from exploitation.

The Core of the Controversy: Money vs. Skill

This pattern is visible in the controversy around the new online gaming law. It has proposed a blanket ban on all forms of real money gaming like poker, rummy, fantasy sports, or betting apps. It prohibits ads, outlaws the facilitation of transactions, and puts enforcement teeth via penalties, fines, and even imprisonment. It has also carved out space for e-sports, educational games, and skill-based play without stakes, meaning the government isn’t against gaming per se but its monetisation through wagers. A central body has been proposed to classify games, oversee compliance, and encourage safe formats. Predictably, the industry has erupted in protest. Executives claim jobs and investments are at risk, and innovation will die. They’ve said regulation would have been a better approach. The government’s defence is that the industry failed to self-regulate.

A History of “Gaming” the System

Gaming is a dicey sector, dealing with intangible play that can easily slip into wagering. Regulation sounds fine in theory but almost impossible in reality. What has been targeted now are money games camouflaged as games of skill. The industry’s objections raises questions. Why is the passion so strong for money-based games? Is it because they appeal to the base instinct of betting, or because they are simply a low-hanging fruit to make quick returns?

The lesson from past experiences is that industries survive and thrive even after seemingly draconian actions. When the Supreme Court cancelled 122 telecom licences in 2012, the same arguments of doom were advanced. Yet the industry is stronger today, investments have come in, and consumers benefit from more reliable services. Innovation did not die. In fact, it found a new channel in 2016 when Reliance, in its second avatar as Jio, altered the model by billing users on data rather than voice. This simple but radical change reshaped not just telecom but the digital ecosystem.

Rather than cry hoarse, companies should take the challenge as an opportunity to innovate gaming within the permissible regulatory framework.