Tom, Dick, and Harry”: When a Phrase Sparked a Courtroom Firestorm Over Free Speech in India

In a courtroom heavy with the scent of age-old wooden benches, murmurs of legal aides, and the sharp weight of modern dilemmas, a seemingly casual British idiom—“Tom, Dick, and Harry”—turned into a lightning rod. A phrase that might have earned a chuckle over tea became, instead, a flashpoint in India’s stormy debate on speech, power, and censorship.

It was a regular morning in the Karnataka High Court, but what unfolded would reverberate far beyond its echoing halls. Appearing on behalf of X—what we once knew as Twitter—the platform’s senior counsel stood before the bench, challenging India’s growing grip over online expression. And then came the words: “Every Tom, Dick, and Harry government official now has the power to censor content.”

The courtroom didn’t erupt. But it froze.

In that one sentence lay an entire struggle—between global tech platforms and sovereign governments, between freedom and authority, between casual speech and colonial hangovers. It wasn’t just about the idiom. It was about what it exposed.

More Than Words

Solicitor General Tushar Mehta, with all the calm fury of someone defending the bones of a system, pushed back hard. “The Republic of India,” he said, pausing for breath, “cannot be insulted like this. These are not ‘Tom, Dick, and Harrys’. These are lawful officers. These are people serving the Constitution.”

And he was right—at least about the sentiment. These officers, some junior, some seasoned, sit in district offices from Gaya to Guwahati. They read files late into the night, issue notices under Section 69A of the IT Act, and enforce what the law tells them to. Whether that law is just—or just outdated—is the larger question.

But for a lawyer in a black robe to stand and reduce them to a colonial-era idiom? It landed like a slap. In a nation still shedding the dust of imperial language, it didn’t sit well. Especially when spoken in English, in a courtroom where Hindi, Kannada, and silence speak louder truths.

A Digital Dilemma Beyond Language

X isn’t just fighting over phrases. Beneath the tongue-lashing lies a deeper unease. India’s new digital censorship portal, according to the company, allows low-level bureaucrats—sometimes with no tech or legal training—to issue takedown orders that affect tweets, videos, satire, journalism, and sometimes dissent. The process is opaque. The notices are unsigned. The content disappears.

That’s where the frustration of X—and many others—comes from. Imagine waking up and seeing your post gone, your voice muted, with no warning, no reason. For a journalist exposing corruption, a student voicing a protest, or an artist sharing a parody, this silence is more terrifying than any arrest.

X claims it’s not the government’s power that offends—it’s the way it’s used. And yes, the lawyer’s words could’ve been gentler, more careful. But in that verbal misstep was also the panic of a company watching governments learn the art of quiet suppression.

A Mirror to the Judiciary

The judges didn’t take sides—at least not openly. But their raised eyebrows, their measured tone, said plenty. “We expect respectful language in this courtroom,” one judge remarked, his voice soft but deliberate.

It wasn’t a reprimand. It was a reminder. Courts aren’t just places where laws are debated. They’re places where language becomes law. Every word carries the weight of legacy. And when those words slip, they echo longer than we expect.

At the Heart of It All: Us

This isn’t just a legal skirmish between a tech behemoth and a government—it’s about us. You. Me. The millions who scroll through feeds to laugh, learn, rage, and relate. In a country of 1.4 billion, where social media is often the only voice many have, deciding who gets to silence that voice isn’t a bureaucratic detail. It’s a democratic decision.

And yet, it’s happening silently. With no public consultation. With no judicial review. With little explanation.

Maybe that’s why the lawyer’s words came out wrong. Maybe it wasn’t arrogance—it was desperation. A plea wrapped in sarcasm, shaped by exasperation. But even desperation must bow to decorum when it enters the courtroom.

What Happens Next

The court has given both parties time to file submissions. No judgment yet. But the story doesn’t pause. Because across the country, tweets are still being blocked. Voices still vanish overnight. And tech platforms still wonder: where is the line between sovereignty and suppression?

What this case decides may shape that answer. But beyond the legalities, beyond the jargon, it reminds us of one simple thing—words matter. They carry our truths, our fears, our identities. And sometimes, they explode.

Even words as ordinary as “Tom, Dick, and Harry.