The government’s decision to push through the Sustainable Harnessing and Advancement of Nuclear Energy for Transforming India (SHANTI) Bill, 2025 has ignited sharp criticism from opposition parties, scientists, and civil society groups, who warn that the legislation could fundamentally alter India’s nuclear governance by opening the sector to private players while weakening liability, regulatory independence and public oversight.
Passed by Parliament without referral to a standing committee, the Bill amends the Atomic Energy Act, 1962 and the Civil Liability for Nuclear Damage Act, 2010 (CLNDA), marking the most significant overhaul of India’s nuclear framework in over six decades. The government argues the reforms are essential to scale up nuclear power to meet climate and energy security goals. Critics, however, say the Bill prioritises investment over safety and accountability in one of the country’s most hazardous sectors.
At the heart of the controversy is Chapter II of the Bill, which allows “any company” or “any person expressly permitted by the Central Government” to obtain licences across the nuclear fuel cycle—ranging from uranium mining and fuel fabrication to reactor operation and reprocessing.
Until now, these activities were tightly controlled under the Atomic Energy Act to preserve sovereign oversight over materials and technologies with strategic and dual-use implications. Opponents argue that fragmenting control among private entities introduces commercial incentives into proliferation-sensitive activities, increasing risks of diversion, sabotage or regulatory lapses.
While countries such as France and Russia maintain strong state dominance over nuclear operations, critics say India’s proposed model relies heavily on executive discretion without comparable safeguards or transparency.
Chapter III, dealing with duties and liabilities, has emerged as the Bill’s most contentious section. The legislation retains an overall liability cap of 300 million Special Drawing Rights (around Rs 3,900 crore) per nuclear incident—unchanged from the 2010 law—despite inflation, higher reactor capacities, and lessons from disasters such as Fukushima.
Under Section 14, the central government assumes liability once the operator’s cap is exhausted, effectively underwriting catastrophic risk. Civil society groups argue this shifts the financial burden of nuclear accidents from private operators to taxpayers, while allowing companies to retain profits during normal operations.
The Bill also narrows the operator’s right of recourse against suppliers, limiting it largely to contractual arrangements or intentional acts. This, critics say, shields equipment suppliers and foreign vendors from accountability even in cases of design flaws or substandard components—one of the original safeguards built into the CLNDA after the Bhopal gas disaster.
Opponents warn that the liability framework is misaligned with the real economic costs of a major nuclear accident. Studies estimate Fukushima’s cleanup and compensation costs at over $180 billion, far exceeding India’s proposed liability ceiling.
Beyond immediate damage, critics point to long-term impacts—displacement of communities, collapse of agriculture and fisheries, health costs from radiation-induced diseases, and loss of investor confidence. In densely populated and seismically active regions, they argue, even low-probability events could have irreversible consequences.
Concerns also extend to procedural safeguards. The Bill restricts who can initiate criminal complaints for nuclear-related offences, limiting this power to officials authorised by the central government or the Atomic Energy Regulatory Board (AERB). Affected communities, civil society groups and even state governments are excluded from directly approaching courts.
Meanwhile, Chapter IV retains a regulatory structure where the AERB remains closely tied to the central government—the same authority promoting nuclear expansion, issuing licences and underwriting liability. Critics say this creates an inherent conflict of interest and heightens the risk of regulatory capture.
Further alarm has been raised over provisions allowing the Centre to exempt facilities or activities from licensing and liability requirements if it deems the risk “insignificant.” Legal experts argue that such broad, undefined discretion undermines the precautionary principle that should govern ultra-hazardous industries.
The Bill also empowers the government to prohibit publication of certain information, effectively placing it beyond the reach of the Right to Information Act—despite existing safeguards for sensitive material under current transparency laws.
The debate over the SHANTI Bill reflects a larger fault line in India’s energy transition: whether nuclear expansion should be driven primarily by private capital and executive discretion, or anchored in stronger public control, independent regulation and robust liability.
As the Bill awaits Presidential assent, critics are calling for it to be sent back for wider consultation and parliamentary scrutiny. Whether those calls will be heeded could shape not only India’s nuclear future, but public trust in how high-risk technologies are governed in the name of development.