Language is not just a tool to communicate; we use it to think. Fathi Hasan Malkawi, in a context, asserts that language is the mold that thought is poured into, and thought is the content inside that linguistic mold. In this sense, language is the backbone of thought upon which reasoning is built. Ludwig Wittgenstein observes, the limits of our language determine the limits of our world. When language becomes poorer and careless, our ability to think critically weakens. Today, we often witness people speaking more to express less. This reflects the erosion of our linguistic strength. Far from being a question of degradation of form, this decline has profound political consequences. George Orwell once warned that such language reflects poor thinking and it manipulates truth. In the political sphere, when language turns into insults, or hate speech, this makes the danger far graver. Instead of promoting reasoning, political verbal attack adds fuel to aggression.
Hate speech as language decline
The erosion of language in politics signals a weakening of democratic imagination itself. This disintegration of language is not about grammar alone; it is a collapse of its aesthetic, ethical and social power. When discourse is reduced to abusive expression, citizens are deprived of critical reflection and collective reasoning. This habit drains intellectual vitality of language, and in turn, from that springs corrupt politics which paves way to unaccountable governance. Hate speech Made by the Politicians of Nepal
Many top leaders of different political parties of Nepal have often been accused of making provocative remarks publicly. In Nepal’s political landscape, such remarks by party leaders are echoed louder by their cadres and virtual campaigners who weaponize social media with deep fakes and misinformation. This poses threat not only to a civilized society but also derails public perception, ignores genuine debate, and destabilizes social trust.
In the present context of Nepal’s March 5, 2026, election of House of Representatives, several politicians have been defaming each other by using inflammatory remarks. Even the top leaders who have already assumed the most vital and responsible posts of the government have also been made aware for not violating the electoral codes. Considering this, the National Human Rights Commission and the Election Commission have cautioned them that their remarks could affect to fair election.
Purpose of language
Language is meant to foster dialogue, empathy, and mutual understanding. It remains robust when nourished by creativity and diversity of expression. It carries a moral weight. When words are used to dehumanize, this erodes language’s primary functions like communication, connection, and meaning-making. When hostility and exclusion displace cordial debate and exchange, the collective imagination shrinks and democratic dialogue is overshadowed. When language becomes unsafe, people withdraw from public discourse. The present neglect of fostering dialogue among the PM candidates, essential for vision-sharing and accountability, is far from decent. It is a wound to both political mission and democratic decency.
Nepal’s fragile political environment cannot remain unaffected if such hateful use of rhetoric is not corrected in time. Hate speech made by some leaders has also signaled to delegitimize the electoral process of the government.
Politicians are assumed to embody respectful discourse, but hate speech signals ethical decline in leadership. Such speech is sowing uncertainty among voters, leaving them doubt about whether the election will truly be held. This has weakened public trust aggravating the fragile political climate and added political polarization. Social media is also fueling this by highlighting short, sensational, and hostile expressions over thoughtful discourse.
Are we losing creativity?
Creativity flourishes through the use of metaphor, narratives, and conversation. Hate speech and shallow rhetoric replace these with hostility. But creativity can never fade completely. It might be displaced for a time. It always dwells in grassroots activism and everyday conversations. Creativity in Nepal has always found refuge in voices that resist social division. Reclaiming creativity in language means resisting the hate speech and restoring politics as a space for dialogue, imagination, and ethical conduct. The challenge is that public discourse, especially politics, often undermines the richness of language for political benefits. The task before us is to reclaim language as a space of imagination and ethical responsibility so that politics does not suffocate creativity. Only then can Nepal’s public discourse rise above antagonism and nurture harmony, ensuring justice and hope.
Is curtailing hate speech compatible to democracy?
Opinions differ about whether censorship on hate speech is necessary in the present age of democracy. Eric Heinze argues that in societies that are not yet fully democratic, bans on such speech may serve as temporary safeguards against social chaos. He points to Germany in the immediate aftermath of World War II or the transitional Balkan states as examples where curtailing could be justified. Over time, however, he insists that the true strength of democracy lies in its ability to protect vulnerable groups from harmful or discriminatory conduct without reducing freedom of expression.
Germany today allows the printing, sale and circulations of even those materials by Hitler or other far-right voices. This demonstrates faith in a democratic citizenry capable of approaching such texts with critical discernment, as they would any other works or writers.
In Nepal, the hate speech remains particularly sensitive issue. Our democratic institutions remain relatively in an early stage of development. Moreover, our political polarization compounded by ethnic, religious, and linguistic divides remain deeply rooted in our blood. And demands to restrict hate speech often arise from concerns about of its capacity to develop tension. Heinze’s argument forces us to think whether democratic maturity is best demonstrated by posing restrictions, or by sustaining free expression while simultaneously safeguarding marginalized groups.
Nepal’s democratic stability rests on the ability to ensure a delicate balance. While provisional legal ban may be necessary, the ultimate aim must be to build social and educational practices that empower citizens with critical thinking, respect for pluralism. When people are capable of challenging hateful language with civic responsibility, then it is democracy, not censorship, that restores decency.
As digital technology continues to evolve rapidly, the challenge lies in balancing innovation with ecological responsibility. Digital tools like Google search, streaming services, cloud storage, Netflix binge-watching, and AI models have revolutionized our information system; however, at the same time, they are also contributing to global emissions. All these digital tools consume electricity, produced from fossil fuels. Modern data-driven platforms are accelerating global energy consumption. They depend on massive data centers that require an enormous amount of water and electricity. High-resolution media streaming further amplifies the demand. The higher the resolution, the greater the energy demand.
A 2023 study conducted by the Carbon Trust disclosed that streaming one hour of HD video can emit approximately 55g of CO₂. The convenience of binge-watching, especially on mobile networks, contributes to growing emissions. Meanwhile, cloud platforms such as Google Drive, Dropbox, and iCloud demand uninterrupted server operation, intricate cooling mechanisms, and persistent backup systems. Continuous data usage generates heat within digital devices, prompting intensive cooling operations in data centers. These cooling systems demand substantial water resources, placing added pressure on surrounding ecosystems and threatening local environmental balances. Large models like GPT-4 or image generators consume massive electricity. Although these technologies are frequently advertised as environmentally friendly, their underlying systems rely heavily on substantial resource consumption, posing significant threats to ecological systems.
Production companies design devices with a short lifespan, limited repairability, and frequent software updates. Market strategies systematically encourage consumers for regular product upgrades, not because their devices fail, but because they’re made to feel outdated. According to the Global E-waste Monitor 2024, a comprehensive report jointly published by the United Nations Institute for Training and Research (UNITAR) and the International Telecommunication Union (ITU), the world generated 59.4 million metric tons of e-waste in 2023. Only 15–22 per cent of this waste is properly recycled. The rest ends up in landfills or informal recycling centers, often in developing countries, where toxic materials like lead and mercury pose serious health and environmental risks. E-waste contains valuable metals like gold, silver, and palladium, but extracting them safely requires advanced technology. Informal recycling often involves burning or acid baths, exposing workers and communities to hazardous fumes.
We tend to think of the internet as cost-efficient, but every click and search has a physical cost. The infrastructure behind our digital data centers consumes a huge amount of energy. A 2024 study published in Nature Communications, summarized by Anthropocene Magazine, showed that the average internet user emits 229 kg of CO₂ annually, which translates to 3 to 4 per cent of global per capita greenhouse gas emissions.
The environmental burden of internet usage isn’t merely a technical issue; it reflects complex moral and ideological questions. The massive consumption of energy by digital infrastructure mirrors extractive logics that treat both ecosystems and marginalized bodies as disposable. The ecofeminists would describe this clean interface as a dirty backend. Indigenous perspectives on the dominance of ecology are often critical to the mythology of progress. It foregrounds a spiritual ecology, rooted in relationality, not dominance. It views that being online detaches users from land-based epistemologies. It argues that the server farms violate sacred sites, extract water, and disrupt local ecologies. It believes that digital speed is fast-paced, contrary to cyclical, and relational. Sustainability rhetoric in technology mirrors colonial patterns of exploitation, offering superficial environmental solutions that perpetuate systemic harm rather than address it. So, what looks innovative may be colonial repetition.
Method of accumulating power
Since most data centers continue to rely on non-renewable energy sources, their environmental impact remains significant. It is, therefore, imperative to pursue more ethically grounded strategies that actively mitigate ecological damage. One such strategy could be a “Low Power Consumption” policy. It advocates for transformative approaches, urging the creation, deployment, and regulation of technology with ecological awareness, cultural sensitivity, and a commitment to social equity. It’s not anti-tech but a pro-responsibility.
Modern technological infrastructure is rooted in terrestrial extraction. Whether through lithium extraction or expansive data centers, digital systems rely on material resources often taken from Indigenous homelands and fragile ecosystems. Technological innovation and resource procurement must be guided by principles rooted in land ethics and restorative justice. This might involve uncovering and analyzing the materials and labor circulation to identify Indigenous lands and consulting with local communities before resource extraction, supporting reparative policies and Indigenous data sovereignty, because true progress must be rooted in relational accountability, not extractive speed.
An alternative approach involves cultivating a local repair culture. While fast tech produces gadgets that break down, become incompatible, or seem outdated quickly, pushing consumers to buy the latest version, slow tech counters it by promoting device longevity, reuse, and collective resilience. As e-waste escalates globally, community empowerment becomes essential. Advocating for right-to-repair policies enables users to reclaim technological agency. Such measures resonate with an ecofeminist vision of care-centered economies, where repair and maintenance are prioritized over relentless consumption. Slow tech doesn’t look backward; it looks ahead. Rooted in foresight, it envisions a future grounded in sustainability, inclusivity, and mindful design. It is not regressive but visionary. It asks us to pause, reflect, and build technologies that honor land, empower communities, and respect the rhythms of life. In doing so, it bridges ethics, ecology, and innovation.
Balancing digital technology with environmental sustainability requires a multi-layered strategy, one that’s ethical, innovative, and grounded in ecological awareness. It is now time to shift cloud infrastructure to solar, wind, or hydro sources. Transitioning to solar, wind, or geothermal sources could drastically reduce emissions. We should now think of developing low-power algorithms and hardware accelerators. Reducing unnecessary cloud storage and unplugging idle devices can help. Digital minimalism isn’t just a lifestyle. It is a climate-conscious choice. It is a call to rethink how we live, learn, and connect in a digitized world. As we navigate the Anthropocene, our digital choices must reflect ecological awareness and responsibility. We need to foster digital environmental literacy through education and awareness. We must bridge digital studies with environmental humanities and ethics, which includes Indigenous and local voices in tech policymaking.
(Dr. Madhav Prasad Dahal is an Assistant Professor at the Institute of Engineering, Pulchowk Campus, TU)
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