From Consent to Compulsion: Non-Signatories in India’s Arbitration Regime

From Consent to Compulsion:
Non-Signatories in India’s Arbitration Regime

This is a guest post by Pranav Saraf. He is a third-year law student at NALSAR, Hyderabad. He can be reached at pranavsaraf@nalsar.ac.in

Arbitration law is fundamentally based on party autonomy, allowing parties to choose their dispute resolution mechanism. However, in India, this principle is being challenged by the inclusion of non-signatories in arbitration proceedings through doctrines like ‘group of companies’ and ‘composite transactions.’ While this flexibility can enhance efficiency, it risks entrapping entities that never consented to arbitration, leading to loss of negotiation power, unexpected costs, and enforcement risks. This paper compares India’s approach with the more restrained practices of the UK and Singapore, which limit the binding of non-signatories to specific contractual or statutory grounds. It highlights the issues with India’s current system and proposes reforms, including legislative clarification of non-signatory doctrines, ‘safe harbour’ exemptions, and procedural safeguards. These reforms aim to balance the need for efficient multi-party dispute resolution with the protection of party autonomy, ensuring that arbitration remains a consensual and predictable process.

Keywords: arbitration. non-signatory, efficiency, party autonomy

One of the core tenets of arbitration law is the principle of party autonomy. This principle forms the foundation of arbitration law as it allows the parties to an agreement the autonomy to elect their dispute resolution mechanism. By extension of this principle, it is the consenting parties to an arbitration who are obligated to take part in these proceedings. However, this central tenet is now at a critical juncture. Indian courts have often been called to adjudicate whether non-signatories, in essence –­­­­­­­­­ affiliates, agents, assignees, etc., could still be compelled to participate in the arbitral proceedings, given the rise in complex, multi-party commercial transactions. The Supreme Court’s landmark decisions in affirming ‘composite transactions’ and ‘group of companies’ doctrines have made Indian arbitration law amongst the more flexible ones in the world. However, that flexibility can cut both ways, entrapping entities that never negotiated or even considered arbitration. This piece aims to draw attention to the dangers non-signatories are exposed to under the present law by proposing legislative and procedural reforms to restore the balance between autonomy and efficiency by drawing on the more restrained approaches practised by the UK and Singapore.

I. Law in the UK and Singapore

The United Kingdom, governed by the Arbitration Act 1996, confines the application of binding third parties under an arbitration clause to traditional contracts as exceptions and legislative exemptions. Section 82(2), similar to Sections 8 and 45 of the ACA, states that any reference to a party in an arbitration agreement includes “any person claiming under or through a party to the agreement.” The English Courts have, however, ruled that such a , all of which require a clear contractual basis rather than an independent “group” doctrine. Under the Contracts (Rights of Third Parties) Act, 1999, statutory third-party rights allow a specifically identified beneficiary to enforce and be bound by any contractual term, including an arbitration clause. This ensures predictability by creating clear and narrow categories of non-signatories who can be bound, in this case, a specially identified beneficiary only. Likewise, English Courts will pierce the corporate veil only in cases of fraud and sham, and

Singapore mirrors the restraint practised by the UK. , adhere to the Model Law’s principle of separability; nevertheless, extensions to non-signatories are limited to express legal grounds. In Manuchar Steel Hong Kong v. Star Pacific, the High Court categorically rejected the ‘single economic entity’ or ‘group of companies’ doctrine, asserting that permitting enforcement against a non-party “would be anathema to the internal logic of the consensual basis of an agreement to arbitrate.” SIAC Rules allow joinder only when there is unanimous consent of all parties or when there are clear prima facie grounds that the non-party is bound by the arbitration agreement (Rule 18.1); otherwise, tribunals lack the authority to add non-signatories.

By contrast, the Indian Arbitration and Conciliation Act, 1996 (“ACA”) defines a “party” in Section 2(1)(h) and restricts its scope to a signatory of the arbitration agreement. However, the law in India has thus evolved to the point where there are a plethora of ways through which the judiciary can decide to implead non-signatories where they feel that such consent was implied, all for the sake of efficiency. It can be through the ‘group of companies’ doctrine, through the ‘composite transaction’ test, [1] or , where direct benefits and interconnected issues are at play. Such impleadment indeed helps in efficient resolutions, but the question arises, for whom exactly is it efficient? For the non-signatory who did not consent to arbitration? Was consent of all parties not the basis of arbitration or has the idea of efficiency diluted that? It is, however, not a question that such an idea has created difficulties. These difficulties have been discussed in the latter part of the paper.

To use the efficiency benefits of consolidated, multi-party arbitration while protecting unwary entities, India should contemplate the following reforms, judiciously adopting elements from the principled frameworks of the UK and Singapore:

1.Legislative Clarification of Non-Signatory Doctrines

Amend Section 2(1)(h) to distinguish expressly between consensual mechanisms (assignment, agency, third-party beneficiary, assumption, etc.) and non-consensual doctrines (group of companies, estoppel, alter ego, etc.). A new sub-section could delineate the consensual categories and mandate that any reference to non-consensual theories be substantiated by precisely defined statutory criteria, which restricts equitable or corporate law interventions to instances of . This would also address the uncertainty around the judicial interpretation of ‘composite transactions’ and set the standard for impleading non-signatories higher, ensuring the principle of party autonomy is not diluted for the sake of efficiency or practicality.

2. ‘Safe Harbour’ Exemptions for Peripheral Entities

The addition of a ‘safe harbour’ clause mandating explicit consent to arbitration would serve to protect non-signatories from unwarranted implied obligations. This reflects Singapore’s practice of protecting third parties save for prima facie grounds or unanimous consent of all the parties, and the UK’s position where a non-party cannot be bound by an arbitration agreement without its consent.  This guarantees that companies with only incidental benefits are not inadvertently swept in due to their passive involvement in a project.

3. Procedural Framework for Impleading Non-Signatories

In the recent case of  , the Supreme Court laid down that impleadment of non-signatories may be done by arbitral tribunals if a prima facie case is established under doctrines such as ‘group of companies.’ The Court clarified that this constitutes a jurisdictional power under Section 16 of the ACA, rather than merely an ‘interim measure’ under Section 17. This signifies a welcome clarification of tribunal autonomy. However, it also emphasises the need for structural safeguards where non-signatories should receive Although such a non-signatory can always appeal an order impleading it under Section 16 by taking recourse under Section 37, such a process is prolonged and goes against the principle of party autonomy as well as efficiency. Reforming such procedural problems by codification would preserve such efficiency without compromising fairness for the non-signatory.

These reforms draw on the restrained approaches of the UK and Singapore, emphasising explicit contractual or statutory entitlements, while maintaining India’s commercial pragmatism. India can facilitate multi-party dispute resolution while preserving the clarity and voluntariness essential to the legitimacy of arbitration by differentiating consensual from non-consensual mechanisms, formalising ‘composite transaction’ criteria, and establishing procedural safeguards for potential impleadments. This could cement party autonomy as the cornerstone of arbitration where predictability and voluntariness would prevail, fostering trust among international parties.

The efficacy of arbitration depends on the twin pillars of autonomy and efficiency. The present Indian landscape demonstrates a willingness to reduce concurrent disputes through the consolidation of disputes and entities that are linked. However, that decision must be weighed against the possibility of entrapping companies or entities in arbitrations that had no say in the formation of the arbitration agreement. When parties agree to the various terms of the arbitration agreement – the seat, governing law, exclusion clauses, etc., they do so by considering what is efficient for them. However, impleading non-signatories through judicial construction of the idea of efficiency would defeat this aspect of party autonomy. By adopting the UK and Singapore’s conservative approach to non-signatories and integrating it into India’s model-law framework through specific legislative and procedural reforms, India can ensure a commercially resilient arbitration regime that honours consensual boundaries rather than continually diluting it.

[1] Chloro Controls India (P) Ltd. v. Severn Trent Water Purification Inc., (2013) 1 SCC 641.

Section 11 the Arbitration and Conciliation Act, 1996, outlines the framework for the appointment of arbitrators in both domestic and international arbitrations. Section 11 emphasizes the principle of party autonomy while providing for judicial intervention in specific and limited instances to ensure that the arbitration process remains efficient and in line with the agreement between the parties.

The Act mandates that in domestic arbitration, an application for the appointment of an arbitrator must be disposed of by the High Court or the person or institution designated by such Court, as the case may be, as expeditiously as possible and an endeavour to dispose of the same  within 60 days from the date of service to the opposite party. This time-bound provision aims to promote the expeditious conduct of arbitration proceedings, reducing unnecessary delays. In the case of international commercial arbitration, the Supreme Court may appoint arbitrators, and it may also appoint arbitrators of a different nationality to ensure neutrality, which is a crucial aspect in cross-border disputes. Section 11 ensures that the appointment process is aligned with the parties’ expectations while safeguarding fairness and neutrality in international contexts. Although further amendments were made to Section 11 by way of Section 3 of the Act 33 of 2019, the same are yet to be notified.  

IBI Consultancy India Pvt. Ltd. v. DSC Limited,35 reaffirmed the principle of party autonomy, which is central to arbitration proceedings. In this case, the Supreme Court emphasized that parties are free to decide the number of arbitrators and the procedure for their appointment, as outlined in their arbitration agreement. However, if the parties fail to reach an agreement on the arbitrators or the appointment procedure, judicial intervention can be sought under Section 11 of the Act. The Court clarified that the role of judicial intervention in such cases is limited. The court’s involvement under Section 11 is not meant to override the parties’ autonomy but to ensure that the agreed-upon procedure is adhered to. This intervention is permissible only when one party fails to act in accordance with the procedure established in the arbitration agreement, thereby preserving the integrity of the arbitration process while respecting the parties’ contractual freedom.

No Seat, No Signature, No Justice: Reassessing Arbitration in the Web3 Era

From Consent to Compulsion:
Non-Signatories in India’s Arbitration Regime

This is a post authored by Shriyans Bansal, a second-year law student at the Institute of Law, Nirma University, Ahmedabad.

In a world where vending machines dispense justice and code implies law, blockchain arbitration may threaten to dislodge the altar from the holy seat of law. This blog explores whether Web3 native smart contract arbitrations meet the fundamental principles of the New York Convention. From pseudonymous jurors to awards that are stateless, it asks whether gamified resolution processes are arbitration or simply a masquerade. As law and code collide, this piece advocates principled recalibration and not rejection; where the gavel holds greater weight than the algorithm, even when expediency is useless in the face of the dispossession of justice’s meaning.

Keywords: Smart Contract Arbitration, Decentralized Dispute Resolution, Blockchain Arbitration, Enforceability of Smart Contract Awards, Consent in Digital Arbitration

I. Introduction

Imagine a dispute silently igniting, resolved not in a courtroom nor before an arbitral tribunal, but in a self-executing string of commands. There is no human contact, no argument, no signatures, just lines of immutable code carrying out the final decree.

What was once just a thought experiment has turned into a developing legal reality in the burgeoning Web3 ecosystem, where smart contracts characterized as self-executing digital contracts embedded in the blockchain are capable not only of automating performance but also resolving disputes.[i] The arbitration clause is no longer agreed upon, signed, or even visible. It is now coded, buried within the smart contract, and triggered by logic, not law.[ii] Disputes will no longer be resolved by arbitration institutions, but through decentralized platforms with decisions made by pseudonymous jurors incentivized by tokens, rather than a duty to adjudicate. These developments raise an existential question for the fundamental foundations of international arbitration which are consent, due process and enforceability. Can a process that is opaque, lacks negotiation and notice, and takes place outside the realm of visibility qualify as “arbitration” under the New York Convention? Do these techno-legal systems comply with the procedural safeguards required by the UNCITRAL Model Law or domestic arbitration statutes such as the UK Arbitration Act 1996 and Singapore’s International Arbitration Act (IAA)?

This article critically examines whether code-embedded arbitration clauses qualify as valid arbitration agreements under the law and whether awards rendered by such decentralized systems can or should be recognized and enforced by courts worldwide. The issue is not merely a legal or technological challenge. It raises a deeper question about the compatibility of automation and autonomy within an emerging lex arbitri.

The Rise of Code-Based Arbitration

A smart contract, first articulated by Nick Szabo in 1994, is a self-executing agreement where performance is compelled automatically through code not necessarily through legal coercion.[iii] Existing on decentralized ledgers (like Ethereum), smart contracts replace legal formalities with if-then logic. The quintessential example is a vending machine: put in your quarters, and the coke automatically tumbles out; there is no discretion and no interpretation.  When smart contracts contain arbitration provisions, disputes are often directed to decentralized platforms without the active consent of users at the time of contracting. Decentralized platforms like Kleros rely on history-token based mechanisms to choose anonymous jurors who earn cryptocurrency as a reward for voting on cases. Aragon Court and Jur embed dispute protocols in decentralized autonomous organizations (DAOs) and therefore allow disputes to be resolved  in the governance structure of the organization itself.

This evolution represents a real change in a practical sense, including:

  • Efficiency: Dispute resolution is almost instantaneous;
  • Minimization of costs: Elimination of legal and administrative costs through automation;
  • Decentralization: Jurisdictional entanglements are avoided.

Nevertheless, the benefits come with a substantial risk of legal uncertainty, as disputes take place in a juridical vacuum.: There is no seat of arbitration, no applicable governing law, and no ability for parties to negotiate or see even the mechanism for addressing disputes.[iv] Such legal black holes challenge the very foundations upon which the New York Convention and domestic arbitration statutes stand upon.
As Bassiri and Panjwani (2021)  note, the New York Convention presumes the existence of a defined legal seat and a baseline of procedural regularity, assumptions that often do not hold in the context of blockchain-based arbitration.

[i] Wulf A Kaal and Craig Calcaterra, ‘Crypto Transaction Dispute Resolution’ (2017) 73 Bus Law 109  https://www.jstor.org/stable/26419193 accessed 21 April 2025.

[ii] Rainer Kulms, ‘BLOCKCHAINS: PRIVATE LAW MATTERS’ (2020) Sing JLS 63 https://www.jstor.org/stable/27032601 accessed 21 April 2025.

[iii] Nasdaq, ‘Smart Contracts Described by Nick Szabo 20 Years Ago Now Becoming Reality’ (Nasdaq, 26 April 2016) https://www.nasdaq.com/articles/smart-contracts-described-by-nick-szabo-20-years-ago-now-becoming-reality-2016-04-26 accessed 21 April 2025.

[iv] Joseph T McLaughlin, ‘Arbitration and Developing Countries’ (1979) 13 Int Lawyer 211 http://www.jstor.org/stable/40705956 accessed 21 April 2025.

The concept of consent is not just a technicality; it is inherent and essential to arbitration.[i] Article II (1) of the New York Convention states that arbitration agreements should be in writing. Likewise, Option II of Article 7 of the UNCITRAL Model Law requires a recorded   agreement between the parties evidencing their mutual consent to submit disputes between them to arbitration. Section 5 of the UK Arbitration Act 1996 expresses a similar view. However, consent becomes murky in blockchain-based transactions. The user is using a decentralized application, which will execute a smart-contract, sometimes without the user realizing that a dispute clause is buried deep in the backend code. The dispute clause could even be concealed in a way that is not readable, let alone negotiated. This is where the browsewrap analogy is illustrative. Browsewraps refers to type of online agreement where a website tries to bind users to terms and conditions without them actively clicking or acknowledging anything. Courts in many jurisdictions have refused to uphold agreements to terms described in ways that were passive or hidden, like at the bottom of a webpage. In Nguyen v. Barnes & Noble Inc.[ii], Noonan, J. opined that passive behaviour does not equal informed consent. In smart contracts, it is arguably worse: a user does not even see the terms, let alone scroll by them, thus vitiating informed consent.

This invokes the concern of procedural unconscionability, wherein one of the parties involved in a contract has little choice or understanding of the terms to which they are purportedly bound. The concern is particularly acute in retail-facing decentralized finance (DeFi) applications where users are agents lacking the legal or technical sophistication. Arbitration is based on the validity of a knowing and voluntary submission that is wholly absent when a user is silently bound by code that they cannot read, understand, or negotiate.

[i] Jan Paulsson, ‘Arbitration Unbound: Award Detached from the Law of the Seat’ (1981) 30(2) ICLQ 358.

[ii] Nguyen v Barnes & Noble Inc 763 F.3d 1171 (9th Cir 2014)

Even if one were to concede that the spectre of consent is satisfied, the legal structure of procedural fairness in a block-chain arbitration is still plagued with significant problems. According to Article V(1)(b) of the New York Convention, an enforceable award may be refused by a court if a party was not given proper notice of the arbitral proceeding or if he was unable “to present his case.” For decades viewed as the gatekeepers of procedural fairness in international arbitration, these provisions raise considerable difficulties for Liquid Dispute Resolution (LDR) systems, which are based not upon traditional arbitral practice, but rather on code. For example, jurors in platforms such as Kleros cast votes anonymously, selected through token-based randomization processes. Jurors are rewarded economically by voting, and do so based on the appearance of the most popular vote, often by algorithmically defined incentives for voting coherently, rather than legal argument or deliberative reason.[i] Adjudication always occurs without traditional notice, without written submissions, and without reasoned awards. Most of the time, there is no ability to appeal any arbitral award, no arbitrator exercising public accountability, and no institutions other than code, or document, that governs ethical, procedural compliance.  An LDR system functions less like a traditional arbitration proceeding and more like a gamified prediction market, an intentionally designed, arbitrary, and opaque process conducted rapidly to produce a final outcome.

This is in contrast to the protections found in Article 18 of the UNCITRAL Model Law, which states that parties are to be treated with equality and given the opportunity to be heard in their case. The IBA Guidelines on Party Representation in International Arbitration also recognize that transparency, independence, and due process are fundamental for legitimacy, all of which are not assured in virtually all blockchain-native tribunals. From a legal standpoint, an arbitration  lacking basic procedural safeguards such as notice, impartial adjudication, and the opportunity to be heard,  is unlikely to satisfy courts assessing the enforceability of awards under the New York Convention or similar domestic frameworks.  When tasked with distinguishing enforceable arbitral awards from the mere outputs of an algorithm, courts are unlikely to recognize as legitimate any award that fails to demonstrate even the minimal standards of due process.

[i] Dan Simon, ‘A Third View of the Black Box: Cognitive Coherence in Legal Decision Making’ (2004) 71(2) U Chi L Rev art 3.

Enforceability is the final crucible through which any arbitral award must pass. It is the bridge that transforms digital determinations into legal outcomes with real-world effect.[i] Yet, for smart contract-based awards, often rendered by anonymous algorithms or decentralized juries, this bridge is fragile, and in many jurisdictions, perhaps impassable. To be enforced under the New York Convention, a blockchain-based arbitral award must satisfy four key elements:

  • A valid arbitration agreement under Article II;
  • A clearly defined seat of arbitration to anchor the lex arbitri;
  • A recognizable arbitral process that affords due process; and
  • An award that is not contrary to public policy, procedurally or substantively.

Smart contract arbitration, in its current form, falters at multiple thresholds. Most glaringly, the absence of a physical seat undermines the procedural skeleton provided by national arbitration laws. The lex arbitri, traditionally rooted in territoriality, becomes unmoored. Without a designated seat, it is unclear which jurisdiction’s procedural protections or annulment mechanisms apply. This procedural statelessness is anathema to most national enforcement regimes. Equally problematic is the lack of institutional scaffolding. As noted by the UK Supreme Court in Enka v. Chubb[ii], the absence of a governing law or seat invites significant uncertainty. Yet, blockchain platforms often operate in precisely such legal vacuums. Further, many platforms do not issue reasoned awards or identify arbitrators features essential to legitimacy. For instance, Section 68 of the UK Arbitration Act 1996 and Section 19B of Singapore’s IAA empower courts to set aside awards where serious procedural irregularity or due process violations are evident. A “Kleros award,” with anonymous jurors, no formal pleadings, and gamified incentives, may struggle to meet even minimal judicial scrutiny.

To resolve these legitimacy gaps, several pathways are emerging:

  • Hybrid models, where code triggers arbitration but human neutrals conduct adjudication;
  • Soft law innovations, such as the UKJT’s Digital Dispute Resolution Rules (2021), which aim to harmonize code-based systems with legal norms;
  • And the long-term goal of a supplementary UNCITRAL protocol to standardize blockchain arbitration under a transnational framework.

Without such interventions, code-based arbitration risks floating in a legal ether: efficient in execution, but inert in enforcement.

[i] Stanley D Henderson, ‘Contractual Problems in the Enforcement of Agreements to Arbitrate Medical Malpractice’ (1972) 58 Va L Rev 947 https://doi.org/10.2307/1072083 accessed 21 April 2025.

[ii] Enka Insaat Ve Sanayi AS v OOO Insurance Company Chubb [2020] UKSC 38, [2020] 1 WLR 4117

Smart contract arbitration exists in a space in between technological autonomy and uncertain legality. It has the potential to be radically efficient and decentralized. But the efficiency and decentralization can also undermine the foundations of arbitration. The responsibility of legal systems is to be able to counteract the appeal of expediency and automation when that expediency pushes too far against due process. The legal systems should not simply reject prospects for efficiency and expediency but refine them in principled ways. Courts, legislators, and arbitral institutions could begin by defining the limits of enforceable arbitration in digital environments: What is a legitimate agreement and how do we ensure procedural integrity in a code-governed system? Similarly, the legal system needs to define when new forms of notice, consent, and adjudication are valid, but each form must accomplish at least the most minimal threshold of substantive justice. Finally, we need to maintain a discourse in terms of doctrinal consistency and comparative legal jurisprudence, so that the legitimacy of technology and arbitration are in harmony.

The algorithm may be swift, but the law must be sure. So, we return to our central question:
Would you trust an algorithm to decide your next dispute and more importantly, would your jurisdiction?