In Russia, a VPN connection, encrypted chat or disappearing message can now be used to cast suspicion on the person who enabled it. Investigators are reportedly presenting ordinary privacy measures as signs of concealment when courts decide whether suspects should be held before trial.
The change gives law enforcement a new way to interpret behaviour that may have no direct connection to a crime. It also shifts attention from what a person allegedly said or did to how they configured a phone, account or messaging app.
How a security feature becomes a warning sign
Eva Merkacheva, a member of Russia’s Presidential Council for Human Rights, said investigators were increasingly treating VPN use, encryption and automatic message deletion as indications of “conspiracy” or a possible attempt to obstruct an investigation. She said courts were taking those arguments into account when choosing a preventive measure, including pretrial detention.
The claim is based on her account of current investigative practice; it does not mean that using such tools is, by itself, proof of a crime. But once the presence of a privacy feature enters a detention argument, it can affect a person’s liberty before guilt has been established.
Similar reasoning was reportedly used in the arrest of a Moscow doctor suspected of justifying terrorism in online publications dating from 2022. The case has become an example of how digital habits can be added to the description of a suspect’s conduct. The significance of those habits depends on how investigators and judges connect them to the other allegations in the case.
The technology itself is unremarkable. A VPN routes internet traffic through another server, which can make it harder to link a connection directly to a user or location. Encryption prevents messages being read without the relevant key. Automatic deletion limits how long a message remains available on a device or in a chat.
None of these functions reveals what a person is discussing or why. Treating them as evidence of concealment turns a technical choice into an interpretive clue. Investigators can then point not only to an alleged message, contact or action, but also to the way the suspect protected it.
Privacy becomes harder to separate from censorship
The development comes as Russian authorities impose wider restrictions on the online information environment. Independent news outlets and other internet resources have been blocked, while people have faced prosecution or other punishment over statements published online.
In that setting, a VPN is not merely a commercial software product. It can help users reach websites and sources that state filters seek to make inaccessible. Encryption can protect professional, medical, financial and personal conversations. Disappearing messages can reduce the amount of private correspondence stored on a device or service.
That makes the treatment of these tools significant well beyond cases involving alleged digital offences. Journalists, lawyers, activists and people challenging official decisions may have particular reasons to secure their communications, but the same functions are available to ordinary users. If privacy settings are repeatedly described as suspicious, people may have to weigh the protection of their data against the risk of attracting official attention.
The pressure works even without a new offence being created. A user who fears that a VPN or encrypted chat might later be cited as evidence may choose not to use it. State control can therefore operate not only through surveillance and blocking, but through uncertainty about whether the means of avoiding surveillance will themselves become incriminating.
Pretrial detention is not a conviction. It determines whether a person remains free during an investigation and before a trial. That makes the facts used to justify it especially consequential. If encryption, automatic deletion or VPN use are treated as independent signs of a risk to an investigation, a routine security measure can influence a person’s liberty before responsibility has been decided.
A proposed legal escalation
In July 2026, Alexander Bastrykin, head of Russia’s Investigative Committee, said legislation was being prepared to increase criminal liability for crimes committed using VPN services, artificial intelligence and other information technologies.
A rule that imposes a heavier penalty when technology demonstrably helps someone commit a specific offence would be different from treating the use of a privacy tool as suspicious in itself. Telephones, vehicles and financial services can all be used in criminal activity without their ordinary use automatically becoming evidence against their owners. The same distinction matters in the digital sphere.
The boundary between those two approaches will determine how far the policy reaches. One approach focuses on the conduct allegedly carried out with the help of technology. The other gives incriminating weight to the decision to shield communications, limit data retention or bypass an information block. Blurring the categories would give investigators more room to infer intent from a person’s security choices.
It would also widen the range of everyday behaviour that can be placed in a case file. The question might no longer be only whether a suspect sent a particular message or contacted a particular person. Investigators could also draw attention to how long a conversation remained available, whether an account was protected, or whether the user took steps to make a connection harder to trace.
That possibility exposes a tension at the heart of the policy. Digital tools can plainly be used to commit offences, and authorities may seek tougher penalties where that use is established. But the use of a privacy function does not say, on its own, what the user intended. The more weight it receives, the more the distinction between evidence of an act and suspicion about a habit begins to erode.
One standard for the public, another for power
The approach also raises a question of equal treatment. Government agencies and officials handling sensitive information rely on secure communications, encryption and modern cybersecurity systems. Those protections are treated as necessary when used by state institutions; similar measures may be portrayed as suspicious when used by citizens.
That contrast matters because confidentiality is not limited to political dissent. People use it to protect health information, legal advice, business discussions and intimate correspondence. A system that makes privacy itself a potential burden places the greatest pressure on people with the least power to challenge an investigator’s interpretation.
The unresolved issue is whether Russian courts will draw a firm line between technology used in a specific offence and technology used to protect lawful communication. If they do not, a phone’s settings may increasingly become part of the case against its owner. The practical consequence is a legal environment in which wanting to keep a conversation private is no longer only a security choice, but something a suspect may be expected to explain.
