Neuro-Rights: Protecting the Minds in the Age of Brain-Computer Interfaces

Author- Siddharth Singh Chaudhary 

College- Babu Banarasi Das University

To the Point

Brain-computer interface (BCI) technology has travelled from research laboratories to consumer shelves within a single decade. Firms such as Neuralink, Emotiv, and a rapidly growing field of wearable neurotechnology start-ups now capture a category of information more revealing than any password, photograph, or transaction record: raw neural data, the electrical output of the human brain itself. Unlike conventional personal data, neural signals can betray emotional states, cognitive patterns, early markers of neurological disease, and even inferred preferences the subject has not consciously articulated. Data protection frameworks built for an era of forms, cookies, and financial ledgers were never designed to govern a technology capable of approximating thought. This article argues that neural data cannot be safely absorbed into the existing category of “sensitive personal data.” It needs a distinct legal architecture of its own — one built around cognitive liberty, mental privacy, and psychological continuity — and examines how courts and legislatures across the world, including in India, are beginning, unevenly, to respond.

The stakes of this gap are not abstract. A device that can detect a user’s frustration, attention lapses, or emotional arousal in real time offers commercial actors — employers, insurers, advertisers, and political campaigns — a form of access to the person that no questionnaire or cookie ever could. Once that signal is stored, transmitted, or sold, the subject has effectively lost control over information generated by an organ they did not choose to expose. The remainder of this article traces how legal systems are beginning, unevenly, to recognise that this calls for something beyond ordinary data-protection law.

Use of Legal Jargon

A meaningful discussion of neuro-rights requires precision in terminology, since the doctrinal vocabulary here is still forming.

● Cognitive liberty: the freedom of an individual to control their own mental processes, including the right to think independently and to resist unwanted intrusion into or manipulation of one’s own cognition.

● Mental integrity: protection against unauthorised alteration of an individual’s neural or psychological functioning, distinct from mere data privacy because it concerns the mind’s physical substrate.

● Neuro-rights: an emerging bundle of rights — mental privacy, personal identity, free will, equal access to cognitive enhancement, and protection from algorithmic bias in neurotechnology — first codified as a coherent doctrine in Chilean constitutional law.

● Informed consent: a foundational data-protection requirement demanding that a subject knowingly and voluntarily agree to data collection, which becomes legally fraught when a device captures data the user is not even consciously generating.

● Function creep: the gradual expansion of a technology’s use beyond its originally stated and consented purpose, a particular hazard where neural data collected for wellness or gaming could later be repurposed for employment screening or insurance underwriting.

● Third-party doctrine: the common-law principle that information voluntarily shared with a third party (such as a BCI company’s servers) loses a reasonable expectation of privacy — a doctrine increasingly criticised as unfit for biometric and neural data.

● Data fiduciary: a party that collects and processes personal data and is consequently bound by duties of care and loyalty toward the data principal, a concept central to India’s Digital Personal Data Protection Act, 2023.

● Purpose limitation: the principle that data collected for one specified purpose may not be processed for an unrelated, incompatible purpose without fresh consent.

● Habeas cogitationem: a proposed procedural remedy, analogous to habeas corpus, that would allow an individual to seek urgent judicial protection against interference with the contents or processes of their own mind.

● Special category data: under data-protection regimes modelled on the GDPR, a heightened class of personal data (such as health or biometric information) subject to stricter processing conditions; regulators in Spain and the European Union have suggested neural data collected through BCIs may already fall within this class even without express legislative amendment.

● Right to informational self-determination: the principle, developed in comparative constitutional law, that an individual has the right to decide for themselves when and to what extent information about them is disclosed to others — a principle that maps uneasily onto neural data generated below the threshold of conscious awareness.

The Proof

The regulatory record of the past four years shows neuro-rights moving from academic proposal to binding law, even as most jurisdictions remain uncovered. Chile became the first country in the world to amend its constitution for this purpose: Law No. 21.383, adopted in October 2021, altered Article 19 to require that scientific and technological development “especially protect” brain activity and the information derived from it. In the United States, no federal neural-data statute yet exists, but a state-level patchwork has emerged rapidly. California amended the California Consumer Privacy Act through SB 1223, effective from January 2025, to classify neural data as “sensitive personal information.” Colorado, Montana, and Connecticut have enacted comparable amendments, and in the first six weeks of 2026 alone nine further bills addressing neural data were introduced across states including Illinois, New York, Vermont, Alabama, and Virginia — several granting individuals a private right of action against non-compliant companies. Illinois’s amendment to its Genetic Information Privacy Act, effective October 2025, went further by creating a standalone category of “neurotechnology data” enforceable through misdemeanour penalties and civil fines of up to fifty thousand dollars for a demonstrated pattern of violation.

At the federal level, the Management of Individuals’ Neural Data Act, introduced in the United States Senate in September 2025, would direct the Federal Trade Commission to study the neural-data landscape and recommend a national regulatory framework, an acknowledgment that no comprehensive federal protection currently exists. Internationally, UNESCO’s expert group has been developing a global standard on the ethics of neurotechnology since 2024, intended to align national responses with existing human-rights instruments. The urgency behind this legislative activity is not speculative: industry analysts project the global neurotechnology market will exceed fifty billion dollars by 2034, driven by consumer electroencephalogram devices already sold for meditation tracking, gaming, and workplace productivity monitoring, alongside medical approvals such as the December 2025 clearance of a home-use neurostimulation device for depression. In India, the Digital Personal Data Protection Act, 2023, and its 2025 Rules regulate “personal data” broadly and impose data-fiduciary obligations, but neither instrument names neural or neurotechnology data as a distinct, heightened category, leaving Indian users of imported BCI devices without the sector-specific safeguards now appearing in comparable democracies.

This regulatory asymmetry matters because BCI devices are transnational by design: an Emotiv or Neuralink-style headset marketed in Mumbai or Bengaluru is typically manufactured abroad, processes data on foreign cloud servers, and is governed by terms of service drafted for an American or European regulatory audience. An Indian consumer using such a device today enjoys, at best, the general protections available to any “data principal” under the 2023 Act — notice, consent, and a right to grievance redressal against the data fiduciary — but none of the heightened, device-specific safeguards that California, Illinois, or Chile now provide, such as an express right to delete brain-activity data on demand or a statutory bar on using it for employment or insurance decisions. The comparative evidence therefore points to a genuine regulatory vacuum rather than a merely theoretical one.

Abstract

This article examines the adequacy of existing privacy and data-protection law in confronting the rise of consumer and medical brain-computer interfaces. It contends that neural data possesses characteristics — involuntary generation, extreme intimacy, and predictive power over future mental states — that place it outside the conceptual boundaries of conventional “personal data,” thereby justifying a distinct doctrine of neuro-rights grounded in cognitive liberty and mental integrity. Drawing on Chile’s pioneering constitutional amendment and its subsequent Supreme Court ruling, the fragmented but expanding body of United States state legislation, pending federal proposals, and international ethical standard-setting, the article situates these developments against India’s constitutional privacy jurisprudence and its comparatively silent statutory framework. It further argues that India’s own jurisprudence on compelled neuro-scientific testing offers an underused doctrinal foundation on which a dedicated neuro-rights framework could be built, and concludes that regulators must act before, rather than after, brain-data misuse becomes commonplace.

Case Laws

Girardi v. Emotiv Inc. (Chilean Supreme Court, Rol No. 1.080-2020, decided 9 August 2023): This is widely regarded as the first neuro-rights case decided anywhere in the world. Former Senator Guido Girardi, who had helped draft Chile’s constitutional neuro-rights amendment, purchased an Emotiv”Insight” headset that recorded his brain’s electrical activity for gesture and cognitive-state analysis. Because he had not subscribed to a paid account, he could not export or delete the data the company retained on its servers. The Court ruled against Emotiv, finding that storing and analysing his brain-activity data — even after anonymisation and even when justified as research — amounted to a breach of his constitutionally guaranteed psychic integrity and privacy. It further dismissed the company’s defence that no real harm had occurred, holding that such harm need not already be visible or proven to warrant protection. It ordered the immediate deletion of his data and directed Chile’s health and customs authorities to review the device’s compliance with domestic law, demonstrating that neuro-rights language could yield an enforceable remedy rather than remain aspirational.

Selvi v. State of Karnataka, (2010) 7 SCC 263: Although decided before the term “neuro-rights” gained currency, this ruling of the Supreme Court of India is the closest domestic precedent on the compelled extraction of information from the human brain. The Court held that involuntary administration of narcoanalysis, polygraph examinations, and brain electrical activation profiling violates Article 20(3)’s protection against self-incrimination and the personal liberty guarantee under Article 21, since these techniques bypass conscious volition to access the subject’s mental processes. Its reasoning — that the right against self-incrimination protects mental privacy, not merely spoken testimony — provides a ready-made doctrinal bridge for extending Article 21 to unauthorised civilian neural-data collection by private BCI companies.

Justice K.S. Puttaswamy (Retd.) v. Union of India, (2017) 10 SCC 1: The nine-judge bench unanimously recognised privacy, including informational privacy and decisional autonomy, as intrinsic to the right to life and personal liberty under Article 21. The judgment’s emphasis on bodily and mental autonomy as facets of dignity gives Indian courts an existing constitutional vocabulary through which claims of neural-data misuse could be framed, even absent a dedicated statute, much as Chile relied on general constitutional guarantees before its 2021 amendment supplied more specific language.

Carpenter v. United States, 585 U.S. 296 (2018): The United States Supreme Court held that accessing historical cell-site location data held by a third-party telecom provider required a warrant, declining to apply the traditional third-party doctrine because such data was too revealing and too involuntarily generated to be treated as freely surrendered. Commentators have repeatedly invoked Carpenter’s reasoning as the closest analogy for neural data: like location data, neural signals are generated continuously and often unconsciously, making conventional consent-based doctrines an uneasy fit and lending support to calls for heightened, sector-specific protection rather than reliance on general privacy statutes.

Beyond adjudicated cases, regulatory guidance is filling some of the interpretive gap. The Spanish Data Protection Authority and the European Data Protection Supervisor have jointly indicated that neural data gathered through BCIs or consumer neurotechnology can qualify as a special category of data under the General Data Protection Regulation, triggering requirements of explicit consent, enhanced transparency, and proportionality even without a bespoke neuro-rights statute. While not binding case law, this guidance illustrates a second route toward protection: reinterpreting existing “special category” or “sensitive personal data” provisions expansively enough to capture neural signals, an approach that Indian regulators could similarly adopt under the 2023 Act’s framework for notified categories of sensitive data, pending more specific legislative reform.

Conclusion

Neurotechnology is no longer confined to hospitals and research institutions; it is being marketed directly to consumers who often have little understanding of what their brain signals can reveal about them, or to whom that information travels once captured. The comparative survey above shows that the law is responding, but unevenly and reactively — a single constitutional amendment in Chile, a scattered handful of American state statutes, one pending federal study bill, and an international ethical standard still being drafted. India’s position is more precarious still: its constitutional privacy jurisprudence and its jurisprudence on compelled neuro-scientific testing together supply strong conceptual raw material, yet its principal data-protection statute does not yet name neural data as a distinct, heightened category requiring specific safeguards. As consumer BCI devices proliferate faster than regulatory capacity, policymakers face a narrow window in which to legislate proactively rather than after the first large-scale case of neural-data misuse forces their hand. A coherent neuro-rights framework — encompassing purpose limitation specific to brain data, an enforceable right to deletion, restrictions on secondary use for employment or insurance decisions, and a fast-track judicial remedy resembling the proposed habeas cogitationem— is not a futuristic luxury but an increasingly immediate necessity for protecting the last truly private space a person has: their own mind.