Zalo and the uneasy price of convenience

THE HANOI TIMES — If you work in Vietnam today, chances are your phone vibrates more often because of Zalo than because of calls. Office groups, neighborhood announcements, school notices and even government paperwork reminders all seem to flow through one blue icon. For many people, deleting Zalo does not feel like uninstalling an app. It feels like opting out of daily life.

That is why Zalo’s quiet update to its terms of service in late 2025 landed with such a loud thud.

“Agree or leave”: the terms trigger backlash

Almost overnight, Vietnam’s most widely used messaging and social platform asked its users to make a blunt choice: agree to expanded data collection or stop using the service altogether. No sliders. No granular options. Just “agree to all” or leave.

On the street, the reaction was not outrage first, but discomfort. The kind you feel when something familiar suddenly shifts beneath your feet.

Developed by VNG Corporation, Zalo has long positioned itself as a “made in Vietnam” success story. With an estimated 80 million monthly users, it is not just the country’s most popular messaging app; it is one of the most widely used platforms of its kind globally. It connects families, businesses, schools, and increasingly, public services.

That central role is precisely what makes the new terms unsettling.

Under the updated policy, Zalo can collect a broad range of personal data, from names and phone numbers to citizen identification details, location data and interaction content, and share that data across companies within VNG’s ecosystem. Users who do not agree lose access and risk having their accounts deleted after 45 days.

In theory, this is consent. In practice, it feels closer to a digital ultimatum.

Scroll through Vietnamese social media and you will see the same sentiment repeated in different words: “I don’t like it, but what choice do I have?” Office workers admit they clicked “agree” because their work groups live on Zalo. Parents say they cannot miss school announcements. Small business owners say customers contact them there, not by email.

Some users talk about switching to WhatsApp, Viber, or Messenger. Few actually do.

That gap between discomfort and action is where the real issue lies.

Lawyers and legal analysts have been quicker to put words to what many users feel instinctively. Nguyen Van Tuan of the Hanoi Bar Association argues that consent obtained under coercive conditions cannot be considered voluntary, especially under the spirit of the Law on Personal Data Protection 2025, which took effect on January 1, 2026.

The law emphasizes voluntary, explicit, and optional consent, as well as the right to withdraw that consent. A system where users must surrender broad data rights to keep accessing an essential service pushes against those principles.

Nguyen Van Hau, Chairman of the Vietnam Legal Arbitration Center, goes further, pointing out that bundling multiple types of data into a single “accept-all” clause may conflict with Article 9 of the new law, which requires clear and differentiated consent for different categories of personal data.

These are not abstract legal debates. They go to the heart of how digital power works in a country where one platform dominates everyday communication.

Regulatory response

Vietnam’s competition watchdog, the National Competition Commission under the Ministry of Industry and Trade summoned VNG to discuss Zalo’s data practices and urged the company to revise its terms so users are not forced to accept data collection just to keep basic services. VNG asked to delay the meeting, citing unprepared documentation, a move that only deepened public skepticism.

The commission has also requested clarification, invoking the Consumer Protection Law 2023, which guarantees privacy, security and control over personal information.

The timing has not helped Zalo’s case. Updating the terms just days before the new personal data law took effect made the move look, at best, poorly judged and, at worst, deliberately opportunistic.

To be fair, tech companies regularly update terms of service. Consent pop-ups are now a universal feature of digital life. Some technology professionals argue that such updates are necessary to keep pace with changing regulations.

But there is a difference between asking for consent and cornering users into it.

A recent VnExpress poll shows that most users oppose how Zalo implemented the new terms, calling for more transparency and real opt-out options. Trust, once shaken, is hard to rebuild. In the digital economy, trust is often the only thing keeping users loyal when alternatives are just one download away.

Zalo says its policy update follows standard industry practice and aims to clarify user rights and obligations. What it has not done, at least so far, is address the core concern: whether users can meaningfully say no.

The Zalo controversy is bigger than one app. It reflects a growing tension in Vietnam’s digital transformation. As platforms become infrastructure, consent can no longer be treated as a checkbox. And as laws grow stronger on paper, enforcement and interpretation will determine whether users feel protected in reality.

On the street, people are still using Zalo. They probably will tomorrow. But something has shifted. The blue icon no longer feels entirely benign. And in a digital age where convenience often comes at the cost of privacy, that uneasy feeling may be the most important signal of all.