I’ve long been intrigued by the quiet justifications people make for the things they know exist in legal or moral grey areas. Pirating films, especially Bollywood blockbusters from sites like FilmyFly, falls squarely into that zone. But when you peel back the behavior and start to ask why people do it, how they rationalize it, what emerges is far more complex than simple disregard for the rules.
People who regularly download Bollywood movies from FilmyFly aren’t just chasing free entertainment. Many of them hold deeply ingrained beliefs about art, value, fairness, and media control. These beliefs aren’t necessarily voiced aloud, but they surface in conversation, in the choices people make, and in the quiet corners of online forums where the moral calculus of piracy is discussed without judgment.
Here are six surprising, and surprisingly consistent, beliefs that often underpin the behavior.
1. “If it’s cultural, it belongs to all of us.”
There’s a widespread sentiment, especially among fans of Bollywood, that movies aren’t just entertainment. They’re part of a shared cultural inheritance. In that view, a blockbuster starring Shah Rukh Khan or Deepika Padukone isn’t just a product to be bought and sold. It’s a cultural artifact, a piece of the emotional tapestry that binds millions.
People who pirate these films often see themselves not as thieves but as cultural participants reclaiming what’s already theirs. It’s a kind of populist philosophy: stories made with public adoration should be publicly accessible. And while this mindset blurs legal lines, it also speaks to a deep emotional investment in media as a communal experience, not a commodity.
2. “Media companies are already too rich and too powerful.”
Another belief that frequently surfaces is rooted in anti-corporate skepticism. To many downloaders, major media conglomerates, especially those in Bollywood, are seen not as underdogs but as institutions bloated with power, privilege, and wealth. They dominate the narrative, own the platforms, and dictate terms to both artists and audiences.
So, when someone downloads a film without paying, they often feel they’re not stealing from a struggling creator. They believe they’re taking back a slice of control from an industry that has monopolized distribution and inflated prices.
This belief is not entirely without basis. Research has shown that media consolidation tends to stifle creative diversity and inflate costs for consumers. In that light, piracy can feel like a form of resistance, a way to level the playing field.
3. “I’m not hurting anyone. Everyone does it.”
There’s a kind of moral relativity at play here. Many downloaders measure right and wrong not by law, but by social norms. And within certain circles, piracy isn’t just common. It’s expected. If all your friends are getting their movies from FilmyFly, why would you pay for a subscription?
This kind of rationalization is amplified by the anonymity of the internet. There’s no direct victim to point to. No cashier is watching you walk out with a DVD. Just a click, a file, and a movie night.
But the real insight here is psychological. Humans are wired to calibrate morality socially. We take our cues from those around us. If the norm is casual piracy, then guilt becomes irrelevant.
4. “Access should not depend on income.”
This is a big one. Many users of sites like FilmyFly come from lower- or middle-income backgrounds where spending money on movies is seen as a luxury, not a right. Streaming services and cinemas charge what might seem like a small fee in wealthier countries, but in many parts of India or among diaspora communities, even those costs can be prohibitive.
So the logic goes: why should entertainment, especially entertainment that reflects your own language, stories, and culture, be locked behind a paywall?
This belief aligns with broader conversations about digital equity. We know from studies in media accessibility that cost is a significant barrier for lower-income users. And when legal options aren’t affordable or available, piracy starts to look less like theft and more like necessity.
5. “The real fans still support the industry in other ways.”
There’s an interesting mental loophole here, and it’s surprisingly common. People often claim that even though they download movies illegally, they still buy merchandise, attend live events, or introduce others to the stars and stories they love.
It’s a form of moral bookkeeping. You might take the movie for free, but you give back in other ways. Whether it’s by generating buzz on social media, attending fan conventions, or supporting artists in different formats, many feel they’re still “net positive” supporters of the Bollywood ecosystem.
This belief echoes findings in behavioral economics, where people offset guilt by highlighting unrelated good deeds. It’s not always logical, but it’s powerfully persuasive on a personal level.
6. “It’s the only way to see the films I love.”
Finally, there’s the issue of access, not just financial, but geographical. Not every Bollywood film makes it to streaming platforms in every country. Licensing is limited. Release windows are staggered. Subtitles are often missing. And that’s before you even get to older or regional films that may never be legally available abroad.
For many in the global South Asian diaspora, or even in rural parts of India, the only way to watch these movies is through unofficial channels.
So yes, people use FilmyFly. Not because they want to undermine the industry, but because the industry has failed to reach them.
This isn’t a justification, but it is a wake-up call. Media distribution still favors the wealthy and the urban. Until that changes, piracy will continue to thrive as the fallback for the culturally starved.
The Bigger Picture: Ownership, Access, and the Digital Commons
What all of these beliefs have in common is a quiet challenge to the dominant model of media ownership. The traditional view says content is a product. You buy it, you own it, and access is controlled by whoever holds the rights.
But in practice, especially in cultures where storytelling is communal, emotional, and identity-laden, that model starts to break down.
People want to own stories the way we own memories, not through transactions, but through repetition, conversation, and connection. And that can’t always be captured in a subscription fee.
So maybe the real conversation shouldn’t be about piracy at all. Maybe it should be about the kind of access, inclusivity, and cultural respect that people are craving.
Because if millions of people are breaking the rules in the same way, maybe the rules are due for a rewrite.
