Submit your Article

Have you ever imagined a scenario where the National Police issue search warrants or execute arrests with the assistance of AI tools?

Would any type of ethical safeguards be respected in such a process? 

Would human control over the final decision of taking action, in the pursuit of justice, against an alleged perpetrator of a crime, be assured? 

In the EU AI Act, the first ever legislation governing the use of artificial intelligence entered into force in August 2024 and in the process of phase-wise implementation, there are clear provisions on when and in which circumstances, and under which type of oversight, the law enforcement agencies can make use of AI-enhanced tools. For example, AI-powered real-time facial recognition in public places is prohibited but there are exceptions for law enforcement agencies of the member-states. 

Indeed, the Act has come under fire for allowing too many loopholes for police use. But, in a trailblazing move, it has also put in place a risk-based approach with four levels of risks, including AI deployments with unacceptable risks that are forbidden. It is to be updated and revisited to ensure it will remain a “fit for purpose” instrument for a technology with apparently unlimited potential. 

This example of emerging AI regulations in the EU proves the complexities in finding a right balance not only on how to make the most effective use of the AI. It also shows the challenges of ensuring that ethical guardrails are in place before the deployment of new AI instruments whose full potential and capacities are still not fully comprehended. That’s why the recent news that the Nepal Police has not only acquired some AI software from India but also trained some of its staff on its use should be taken as very alarming. 

In a fast-evolving scenario of AI development where there have been a lot of talks about regulations but much less action, the recent government act of issuing a draft AI Policy is a positive step. The draft lists out several worthwhile policy objectives and it correctly highlights how any development and use of artificial intelligence in the country should always be focused on the creation of positive impacts for the wider society. Yet there are concerns about the lack of specificities and technicalities in relation to the implementation of any future AI regulations. At the same time, it is vital to contextualize any AI Policy with the urgent need for the country to have in place strong data protection and privacy laws, cybersecurity and digital infrastructure that Nepal still lacks.

Finalizing the AI Policy, therefore, would require, as suggested by the Digital Rights Nepal and AI Association Nepal, establishing a robust framework to ensure proper conduct in the way data protection and privacy rights are ensured by AI developers and their users. These represent major conundrums not only for Nepal but for the international community as a whole and are crucial themes widely underlined by the UN High Level Advisory Body on AI through its Governing AI for Humanity report.

One of the major deficiencies of the draft is its “generalized and listing all” approach without any timeline. For example, legislating a data protection framework would be itself a gigantic effort with a high degree of complexity. Addressing it head-on alone would, as a consequence, demand a strong sense of urgency on the part of the legislator and executive powers. But lack of specificities is not the only problem of the draft. 

A concerning aspect is also the system of governance that is envisioned to govern AI in the country. First of all, the document foresees the creation of an AI Regulatory Council whose chairperson would be the Minister for Communications and Information Technology. Together with other very high-ranking officials, including the Governor, this mechanism would, among others, issue ethical AI guidelines and standards.

The draft also envisions a National AI Center that, among other things, will be in charge of regulating the development and use of AI at the national level and overall coordination and evaluation of AI development.

It is crucial to reassess the purpose of establishing a high-level body like the AI Regulatory Council, as their effectiveness is often questionable, with many of such high-level bodies struggling to even meet the quorum for meetings. Instead, the focus should shift toward empowering an institution like the National AI Center, which could serve as the "guardian" of future AI legislation and ensure its proper implementation.

For example, the EU AI Act established a powerful European AI Office within the European Commission, giving it wide-ranging powers, including enforcement and implementation. But this is not the only mechanism created through European legislation. There are also a Scientific Panel, composed of independent experts in the field of AI and the Advisory Forum, representing a diverse selection of stakeholders. There is also a European Artificial Intelligence Board comprising representatives of member-states. This open, inclusive approach to governing AI development where together with policymakers, experts and members of the civil society have a seat on the table, is innovative.

At RightsCon 2025, held in Taiwan on 24-27 Feb 2025, AI discussions emphasized inclusivity, ethics and accountability in AI governance and development. Key sessions explored civil society’s role in AI policymaking, particularly in Asia and Latin America, and the integration of global perspectives for responsible generative AI. Topics like multilingual AI, neurotechnology governance and feminist AI highlighted the need for diverse voices in shaping equitable AI systems. Further, sessions on AI for climate action, healthcare and natural resource governance underscored its potential to address global challenges while ensuring rights-respecting approaches. The conference also discussed AI bias, fairness and the democratization of AI infrastructure, advocating for transparency and public participation. It is important for Nepal to consider these issues while finalizing the AI draft policy and legislating AI regulation. 

Moreover, recently, the Tony Blair Institute for Global Change has developed a new report, “How Leaders in the Global South Can Devise AI Regulations that Devise Innovation”, that should be thoroughly taken into consideration. 

If Nepal wants to really become an emerging IT hub as envisioned by the government, then it needs to step up its tempo on AI regulation. The country should have a holistic AI framework in place founded on strong data and privacy rights pillars. Together with strong ethical guardrails, Nepal can design an agile system that, while not over cumbersome, can ensure safety and AI alignment with human rights. 

By studying global practices and adapting them to local context, Nepal can have an ethically solid and innovation-promoting AI framework in place.

Any use of AI tools by state agencies, including law enforcement, should be stopped before any such a framework is established.

When we talk about technology in the context of development, we often treat it as a tool that simply exists to make life more efficient. But I see technology as something that shapes our identities, influences our sense of agency and carries ethical responsibilities across generations. This is why we need to reframe ICT4D (Information and Communication Technology for Development) through an ethics-based lens—one that doesn’t just ask what technology can do, but who it serves, how it  empowers and whether it respects the people and cultures it touches. 

Technology isn’t something that arrives in a vacuum, rather it enters communities endowed with their own ways of understanding the world, their own traditions, identities and their own ethical frameworks. If we introduce technology without considering these dimensions, we risk erasing identities rather than strengthening them. According to Martin Heidegger, the essence of technology is not just about tools or instruments; it’s about how technology shapes the way we see and interact with the world. When technology is introduced into a community without awareness of this shift in perception, it can transform local cultures and identities into mere resources to be exploited rather than ways of life that deserve  respect and preservation. For ICT4D to be responsible, it must integrate into the ways of  communities, aligning with their values rather than imposing external ones. 

I have seen  instances where digital tools were designed with good intentions but ended up disrupting  local practices because they failed to acknowledge the social and ethical realities of the  people using them. 

Agency is at the heart of ethical technology use. People should not just be passive  recipients of digital solutions; they should have the power to shape, adapt and use  technology in ways that enhance their lives. Too often, ICT4D projects are rolled out with a top-down approach, where decisions are made by outsiders who assume they know what’s best for the rest. But when people are involved in designing and implementing technology—when they  have ownership over it—it transforms from an external intervention into a meaningful part  of their lives. This isn’t just about usability; it’s about empowerment. It’s about ensuring that communities are not just given tools but also the knowledge, skills and autonomy to decide how those tools should work for them. This perspective aligns with Amartya Sen’s emphasis on agency in development. 

Intergenerational justice, a concept explored by Hans Jonas, is another crucial dimension  that is often overlooked in ICT4D. When we introduce technology, we aren’t just shaping the present; we are making choices that will impact future generations. If we don’t think carefully about the ethical implications of technology, we risk creating dependencies, eroding cultural knowledge or deepening inequalities. Sustainable technology isn’t just about function or economic efficiency; it’s about ensuring that the benefits of today’s  innovations don’t come at the cost of future resilience. 

Environmental sustainability must also be central to ethical ICT4D. As Fritjof Capra  emphasizes in his work on systems thinking, nature operates through interconnected and  self-sustaining networks. Technology should follow these principles, supporting rather than disrupting ecological balance. Too often, technological advancements come at the cost of  ecological health, depleting natural resources and contributing to environmental degradation. If we are to create truly sustainable solutions, we must embrace a philosophy  that respects and aligns with the natural world rather than exploiting it. This means developing digital infrastructures that minimize environmental impact, encouraging circular economies in technology use and integrating local ecological knowledge into digital innovations. Ethical ICT4D must recognize that the well-being of communities is inseparable from the health of the environment that sustains them. 

An ethical ICT4D means recognizing that technology is never just a tool; it is always part of a larger social and ethical system. If we want it to truly serve communities, we need to ask deeper questions: Does this technology respect local identities? Does it enhance people’s agency rather than diminish it? Does it uphold justice not just for this generation, but for the ones that will follow? And does it honor the ecological systems that sustain life? These are the questions that should guide our approach. If we fail to ask them, we risk using technology as a force of disruption rather than as a means of meaningful progress.

The longer you walk through life’s winding paths, the clearer it becomes: life’s not fair. Not just for you, if you look closely at the lives of others, and you'll find that fairness is a myth we all wrestle with. Life’s more complicated than the mathematical equation that we’ve encountered during our education years. And most of our thought/emotional process, action, decision and the coincidences we face lies beyond the rule of cause and effect. Life doesn’t ask what we’d like on our plate—it simply serves. The only real choice we have isn’t whether to eat it or not rather it is how we eat and digest. There are countless things beyond our control. No bargaining is heard and acknowledged—just acceptance of what life hands us. Looking at the fragility of life, even a slight, accidental cut to a nerve, just deep enough can lead to irreversible consequences. 

According to the World Health Organization (WHO), approximately 1.19m people die in road accidents every year—that’s over 3,200 deaths per day, 133 people in an hour and two every single minute. Each of these individuals was on a journey, with their futures ahead of them. Weren’t they planning what they would do the next day? Yet, how can we justify their untimely deaths? While some religions attempt to justify it through the karma of past lives, others attribute it to destiny, believing it’s all written. And nobody knows how true this justification is and nobody will probably know. Although if we get the justification, will it bypass our emotional reaction and responses generated by the event and coincidences. I don’t think so, because rationalization lacks the power to regulate the emotion that we experience. It’s often said that everything is fair in love and war, but one thing is certain—everything is fair in life. Anything can happen, we can’t deny this fact. 

Human nature is quite opposite of the nature of life. We are drawn to certainty and it comforts us. If we closely invigilate our plan and action, we can sense that they are steps taken to make our lives more secure. Our natural tendency is to seek certainty and control, but with surprises—whether good or bad—we feel discomfort, which is why we attempt to structure our environments and lives in predictable ways. 

When human nature, which seeks control, meets the unpredictability of life, it results in friction. And how this friction manifests, we attempt to challenge the nature of unpredictability of life and try immensely to make it more secure and predictable. We often seek answers that lie beyond our capacity to understand. We are inclined to seek the deeper reasons behind the unwanted experiences that life presents to us. Although nobody has found and nobody probably ever will, the mysteries behind the cause of any events. This mystery creates a deep sense of uncertainty and instability within us. And Sigmund Freud argues that in order to cope with this anxiety of uncertainty, and to create a false sense of control over future events, humans tend to believe in and worship God. To mitigate this, humans invented narratives of control, with God serving as the ultimate answer to chaos. Freud argues in his books titled ‘The future of an illusion’’ (1927) and ‘Civilization and its discontent’ (1930) that if we tend to believe that there is someone in the sky who controls everything, who justifies every sin, we feel we have a shoulder to lean on. Now, let’s explore why we have this tendency to search for such a figure.

Central to Freud’s idea is the notion that children feel very secure being within the arms of parents. In those arms, one experiences the protective figure, feelings of security and are completely able to rely on their parents. Child gets an opportunity to explore life without taking any responsibility for his action and is ensured that it’s taken care of by their parents. The child often develops the belief that their parents are like superheroes, capable of solving any problem they face. This belief is why the child feels more carefree and lively, experiencing a sense of joy and security. And in the process of growing up, he slowly understands that there are a lot of things that their parents cannot control, in fact, many things that no human being can control. One understands that there’s chaos, a mystery that no one knows the formula for. No equation fits in justifying the cause-and-effect rule. As the child matures into adulthood, their cognitive development allows them to analyze and become more aware of the chaos, uncertainty and unpredictability of life. This awareness then gives rise to a profound sense of helplessness and powerlessness, as the illusion of control fades. Now I invite you, dear reader, to contemplate how one might confront this uncertainty that springs from feelings of powerlessness and helplessness.

This is where Freud’s central idea revolves around. In order to address this uncertainty, humans often turn to believe in God—a higher power who is sitting in the sky assessing and evaluating every thought, deeds and action. You can think about it. If you are powerful enough you can repay the injustice given by another human fellow. But how does one seek justice for the suffering inflicted by life itself? Although we can question the unwanted events and experiences that we go through in life, is there anyone who answers that question? Of course there’s no one—no entity to respond to our grievances. This profound imbalance, this need for meaning and resolution demands equilibrium. Here, belief in God serves as a psychological anchor. By surrendering to a divine order, we find solace, attempting to bring emotional closure to our unresolved turmoil allowing us to find comfort in the face of the unknown. Belief in God offers a reassuring shoulder to lean on. 

Following Freud’s theory multiple scholars have conducted the research on our tendency to believe in and worship God. Existential security theory (Norris & Inglehart, 2011) suggests that people turn to religion more in uncertain or economically unstable environments. Research suggests that in more secure and stable environments, where there is less insecurity, the tendency to believe in God may decrease. A study by Will Gervais and Ara Norenzayan (2012) found that encouraging analytical thinking reduced religious belief. This implies that in environments where individuals feel more secure and are encouraged to engage in analytical thinking, the reliance on religious beliefs may diminish. Reflecting on these studies, can we infer that our inclination to seek support and believe in God stems from the uncertainty born of helplessness and powerlessness?

Probably we’ll never know the exact answer and the formula that guides our lives. From another perspective, could it be that we are merely puppets in a grand simulation—acting as if we have free will, while every event is already predetermined? There may be a higher power, something beyond our understanding, hidden from our awareness. 

In many of the texts that Freud wrote he never argued about the existence of God. Neither he nor this article directly questions the existence of God. We both are questioning the tendency to seek solace by believing in God. 

Recently, former Prime Minister and President of the Nepali Congress (NC) Sher Bahadur Deuba, along with Dr Shashanka Koirala, the son of BP Koirala, visited BP Koirala’s ancestral home in Biratnagar. This house is more than just a physical structure; it stands as a symbol of Nepal’s long and arduous democratic struggle, embodying the resilience, vision and sacrifices of one of the nation’s most revered leaders. Given its immense historical significance, I had expected that Deuba, as a leader of the party that BP Koirala formed, would acknowledge its value and push for its preservation as a national museum. Unfortunately, that did not happen.

Despite its crucial role in Nepal’s democratic history, BP Koirala’s home remains neglected, with no concrete efforts from the government or political leadership to conserve it. This is more than just the deterioration of an old building; it is an alarming disregard for Nepal’s democratic legacy. Preserving BP Koirala’s home is not merely about safeguarding bricks and mortar—it is about honoring the struggle for democracy and ensuring that future generations comprehend the sacrifices made for Nepal’s freedom and progress.

BP Koirala, Nepal’s first democratically-elected Prime Minister, was a towering figure in the nation’s political evolution. A staunch advocate of democracy, socialism and nationalism, his ideals laid the foundation for modern Nepal. His Biratnagar residence, where he spent crucial years of his political career, bore witness to key moments in Nepal’s democratic journey. It was within these walls that historic discussions, revolutionary ideas and strategic planning took place, all of which played a significant role in Nepal’s transition away from autocracy. The house, therefore, is not just a relic of the past; it is a living testament to the democratic aspirations of the Nepali people.

Despite its historical and cultural significance, neither the government nor the party has made any effort to make it a museum. There has been no substantial governmental or institutional effort to preserve it, a situation that reflects a broader issue in Nepal: the failure to institutionalize historical memory. Around the world, nations take pride in preserving the residences of their national leaders, converting them into museums and cultural centers to educate future generations. India, for example, has meticulously preserved Mahatma Gandhi’s Sabarmati Ashram, which serves as both a museum and an educational center. Nelson Mandela’s former residence in South Africa stands as a monument to his struggles and achievements. Nepal, too, must recognize the value of its historical landmarks and act swiftly to preserve them before they are lost to neglect and decay.

Transforming BP Koirala’s home into a national museum would serve multiple purposes. Firstly, it would provide an educational space for citizens, particularly young Nepalis, to learn about Nepal’s democratic history. Schools and universities could utilize it as a learning center, offering invaluable insights into BP Koirala’s ideology and Nepal’s political evolution. Secondly, it would serve as a significant cultural and historical attraction, drawing both domestic and international visitors interested in Nepal’s democratic struggles. Thirdly, it would act as a unifying symbol for the nation, reminding both political leaders and citizens of the fundamental values of democracy, integrity, and principled politics.

To make this vision a reality, the government must take immediate action in collaboration with the party and civil society. A dedicated trust should be established to transform BP Koirala’s home and curate exhibits that showcase his writings, personal artifacts, photographs and audiovisual archives. Additionally, an interactive section could be incorporated to allow visitors to engage with his speeches and ideas through modern, immersive technology. Such efforts would not only preserve the house but also revitalize public interest in Nepal’s democratic heritage.

Nepal cannot afford to let its history fade away through negligence and apathy. The legacy of BP Koirala is too significant to be forgotten. Preserving his home as a museum would be a fitting tribute to his contributions and a reaffirmation of Nepal’s commitment to democracy. The time to act is now—before history crumbles before our eyes.

As a dedicated member of the Nepali Congress, I urge the leadership of our party to take decisive steps toward this cause. With the party currently holding power in the government, there is no better opportunity to take concrete action. The government should initiate the process of acquiring BP Koirala’s home and officially recognizing it as a national museum. This would not only honor BP Koirala’s contributions but also serve as an enduring reminder of Nepal’s democratic journey.

Beyond preserving our democratic legacy, Nepal must also focus on strengthening its global identity. Our country is renowned for its breathtaking mountains, its status as the birthplace of Gautam Buddha, the historical significance of Goddess Sita, and its deep spiritual importance for Hindus around the world. These are core elements of Nepal’s identity, and the government must prioritize the development and promotion of these aspects. Just as we must preserve our democratic history, we must also leverage our cultural and religious heritage to bolster Nepal’s global standing.

By taking action now, Nepal can ensure that both its democratic and cultural heritage are preserved and celebrated for generations to come.

The author, a member of the Supreme Court Bar, has been practicing corporate law for around three decades