EVERY day, thousands of people enter legally binding agreements without reading a single word. Whether downloading a mobile application, signing up for a streaming service or making an online purchase, users are presented with lengthy terms and conditions followed by a simple button: “I Agree.” With a single click, a contract is formed.
Convenient though it may be, this transformation raises a basic question: can consent be meaningful when almost nobody reads the contracts they accept? A contract is formed when parties freely and knowingly agree to exchange rights and obligations. The law assumes that individuals have read, understood and accepted the terms governing their relationship. That assumption may have been plausible when contracts were negotiated face-to-face or signed after careful review. In the digital age, however, it resembles legal fiction.
Research shows that many readers do not read the terms and conditions of modern online contracts — ‘clickwrap agreements’ — before accepting them. Lengthy documents written in dense legal language make meaningful review impractical for them. What is then presented as consent often becomes a mere ritual for readers.
Despite this, courts everywhere uphold click-to-agree contracts. Their logic is that individuals are free to read the terms if they wish, and by clicking their acceptance, they show assent and therefore must bear the consequences. This approach preserves certainty and predictability in commercial transactions. Yet legal certainty is not always synonymous with genuine consent.
Many readers do not read the terms and conditions of online contracts.
The architecture of modern internet also complicates this assumption of voluntariness. Users are confronted with a choice: accept the terms or lose access. Many websites and applications deny service entirely unless users agree to extensive conditions, with no opportunity for modification. Although users formally retain the ability to refuse, in practice refusal often means exclusion from essential digital services. The law continues to describe this as voluntary agreement, yet it often resembles acceptance driven by dependence.
This imbalance of power is seen in how tech companies draft the terms, while consumers are presented with standardised, non-negotiable agreements. Many online agreements grant companies broad rights to collect, analyse, share and monetise user data. Individuals often consent to these practices without understanding the implications.
Contract law has long prioritised freedom of contract — the principle that parties should be free to arrange their affairs as they see fit. However, modern legal systems increasingly recognise that formal freedom without substantive fairness can produce unjust outcomes. Consumer protection laws, unfair contract term regulations and disclosure requirements reflect this shift towards protecting genuine consent.
The digital economy now forces a re-examination of these principles. Online contracts are necessary for modern commerce, but the challenge lies in preserving meaningful consent in environments where agreements are rarely read.
Some jurisdictions have begun responding to this challenge. Plain-language drafting requirements, simplified disclosures and stronger controls on unfair terms attempt to bridge the gap between formal acceptance and actual understanding. Others are exploring limits on the enforceability of particularly dense clauses in lengthy agreements. These reforms signal a growing recognition that the legal architecture of consent must evolve alongside technology.
The rise of AI may intensify these concerns. AI systems are increasingly capable of drafting contracts, personalising terms and interacting directly with consumers. While this may improve efficiency, it also raises new questions about transparency and accountability. If users already struggle to understand standardised agreements, algorithmically tailored contracts may deepen the opacity of consent.
For countries such as Pakistan, these questions are especially significant. As digital commerce expands and more citizens conduct their lives online, legal frameworks must adapt to realities that traditional contract doctrine never anticipated. Existing principles remain important, but were developed in an era when contracts were tangible documents rather than invisible digital mechanisms.
Bridging the gap between contractual theory and digital reality will be one of the defining legal challenges of the coming decades. The goal is not to weaken online contracts, but to ensure that consent retains substantive meaning. Without that shift, contract law risks preserving the appearance of agreement while gradually eroding its substance.
The writer is a law student at the University of London.
Published in Dawn, July 9th, 2026































