The Calcutta High Court’s decision in NEC Corporation marks a significant step forward for GUI design protection in India. However, beyond the celebration surrounding this development, Sachin Sharma points out that a more uncomfortable question remains—why did it take judicial intervention for this shift to occur at all? Sachin is an Associate Advocate at Sanghi & Co. An alumnus of NLU Delhi (LLM in IPR Law and Management), he is currently advancing his technical acumen through a BSc in Biotechnology.
The GUI Verdict: A Celebration of Progress, or a Lament for Leadership?
By Sachin Sharma
“True expertise should be the lighthouse that guides the law, not the shadow that follows it.”
The Calcutta High Court decision in NEC Corporation vs. The Controller of Patents and Designs and Anr validating design protection for Graphical User Interfaces (GUIs) is undoubtedly a welcome and forward-looking step. However, while reading the judgment and watching my network feed fill up with celebratory posts about it (and rightly so), it left me a bit miffed. One thing kept on riveting in my mind: why did it have to be judicial intervention to allow this line of thought to surface? It prompted me to sit down and draft my thoughts strictly from the perspective of an IP practitioner who actually has to navigate these objections on the ground.
Just as I was putting this draft together, Bharathwaj Ramakrishnan published his excellent piece on this blog, masterfully unpacking the doctrinal knots and the copyright-design overlap. While his academic analysis tackles the statutory text, my frustration stems from the institutional reality. His post only amplified a question that had been lingering in my mind: why did it take judicial intervention for this position to emerge in the first place?
I find myself somewhat perplexed, or rather perturbed, that this step was not taken first by the office of the CGPDTM, specifically the Design Office in Calcutta. This was despite at least two distinct opportunities: first during the initial application stages, and later when the matter was remanded back to them by the Calcutta High Court.
The Hesitancy of Expertise
Those opportunities notwithstanding, protection was refused. After going through the rationale and drawing on my personal interactions with individuals from the Design Office, the approach appeared to rely on an overly restrictive interpretation. The office, in my humble opinion, appeared to miss the entire forest for the trees by hyper-focusing on the needlessly rigid visual requirements as opposed to aesthetic value in general.
The irony is that India had actually rolled out the red carpet for GUIs on paper long before this judgment. Through the 2019 and 2021 amendments to the Design Rules, India explicitly adopted the Locarno Classification, officially recognizing Class 14-04 (Screen Displays and Icons) and Class 32 (Graphic symbols and logos). The legislative cue was unambiguous.
Yet, the Design Office managed to carve out its own administrative leeway to reject these applications anyway. They leaned heavily on a classic legal hierarchy argument: a delegated Rule cannot override its parent Act. So, despite these classes existing right there in the amended rulebook, the Registry aggressively interpreted the quarter-century-old definitions in Sections 2(a) and 2(d) of the Designs Act, 2000 to stall progress. Their primary defense? A GUI lacks “permanence.” Because it vanishes the second a screen is powered off, the Office argued it could neither qualify as a tangible “article” nor be considered something applied via an “industrial process.”
But this hyper-technical stance ignored a glaring global reality. As Justice Ravi Krishan Kapur pointed out in the NEC Corporation decision, citing a recent WIPO survey, 92% of jurisdictions worldwide already extend design protection to GUIs. Instead of the technical experts leading the way and harmonizing our practice with the rest of the world, the institution seemed to wait for the High Court to set the precedent.
Seeing various officers from that very same department now celebrating the achievement leaves me a little disheartened. It brings to mind these poignant lines:
“Faisle ki aag mein khud ko tapana chhod diya, Aur jab roshni aayi, toh sabne kaha ‘kya khoob jalwa hai.’” (They refused to endure the fire of making a tough decision, but once the light finally emerged, everyone gathered to praise the brilliance.)
Passing the “Eye Test”
A special mention must go to my teacher at NLU Delhi, Adarsh Ramanujan, the amicus curiae in the decision.
I found his submissions particularly interesting because the reasoning closely resembled something I had previously discussed during my own interactions with the Design Office: just because a design is not permanently visible does not mean it fails the ‘eye test’ when put to its intended use.
Take a toy or statue, for example, which reveals its beautiful dress or feathers only when a button is pressed. The mechanism itself may be functional, but mind you, we are not asking for protection on the functional aspect. We are seeking to protect the visible design that becomes apparent to the eye, which is entirely aesthetic and perfectly suited for design protection. That was essentially the logic I had tried to articulate during my registry discussions. While pointing it out now may sound insightful with the benefit of hindsight, I state this with the utmost humility when comparing my informal thoughts to the rigor of Mr. Ramanujan’s legal submissions. Nevertheless, seeing that logic aligns so neatly with the Court’s ultimate findings is deeply validating.
A Systemic Pattern of Caution
To be clear, this is in no way an attack on the officers. Far from it. My interactions with officers from the CGPDTM have left me with little doubt that the institution houses some very fine minds who truly understand the pulse of the IP landscape.
However, administrative systems inherently err on the side of caution. The risk of an erroneous decision, and the professional critique that might follow, often encourages restraint.
Yet the institutional reluctance with which the GUI issue was approached remains somewhat disappointing. This contrasts sharply with the proactive stance the office took regarding the refinement of Section 3(d) during the Novartis case, where the patent office boldly set strict standards long before the courts affirmed them.
And this pattern of caution is not limited to this single instance. Across several cutting-edge areas, whether it is copyright protection for AI-generated works, patent “black box” issues, or Section 3(k) CRI challenges, the office often appears to be more reactive than proactive.
When that happens, the heavy lifting is unfairly dumped on the High Courts. Think about the irony here: our courts are already massively overburdened, yet they are the ones forced to be proactive and figure out highly technical frontier tech. It completely flips the script. The registry is filled with technical experts for a reason. They are built to be the experts leading the charge, not cautious batsmen letting the pitch dictate the play while waiting for a court order to feel safe enough to swing.
Which is why I keep returning to my opening thought. The future of Indian IP cannot be written entirely through High Court remands and appeals.
I sincerely hope that going forward, our technical experts rediscover their mojo. They need to take the initiative and feel empowered to lead from the front when confronting novel technological questions, ultimately showing the courts where the law needs to go.
