Online teaching has become a prevalent feature of the yoga landscape in Singapore. What began as an emergency response during the pandemic has evolved into a deliberate choice for many independent teachers – a way to reach students beyond a single studio’s catchment or to create digital content that generates income over time.
But the shift from studio to screen changes the legal landscape in ways that are easy to overlook. Several topics covered earlier in this series – liability, content ownership, music licensing, and data protection – all operate differently when teaching moves online. This post draws those threads together and examines what is different in the virtual context.
Duty of care at a distance
As we explored in an earlier post on liability, yoga teachers owe a duty of care to their students under Singapore’s law of negligence. That duty does not disappear when a class is conducted over Zoom rather than in a studio. If anything, the online environment makes it harder to fulfil.
In a physical studio, a teacher can observe a student’s alignment, breathing, and facial expressions in real time. They can intervene quickly if a student is struggling or attempting something beyond their capacity. Online, these cues are diminished or absent. Students may have their cameras off. Video quality may be poor. The teacher cannot see the full body in a small screen tile, and they cannot offer hands-on correction.
This reduced visibility does not reduce the teacher’s responsibility. A teacher conducting an online class should take additional steps to manage the risks that flow from not being physically present – offering clearer verbal cues and modifications, reminding students to work within their own range, being explicit about contraindications, and encouraging students to inform the teacher of injuries or conditions before class.
The question a court would ask in the event of a claim is the same as in a studio setting: did the teacher act as a reasonably competent professional would act in similar circumstances? The ‘similar circumstances’ now include the limitations of the online environment. A teacher who acknowledges and actively manages those limitations is in a stronger position than one who teaches online exactly as they would in person, without adjusting for the reduced capacity to observe and respond.
Content that outlives the class
In a physical studio, a class happens and then it is over. The students were present, the experience was shared, and no permanent record exists unless someone chose to create one.
Online classes are different. They are routinely recorded – sometimes by the teacher, sometimes by the platform, sometimes by the studio. A livestream can be archived. A Zoom recording can be uploaded to an on-demand library. A class intended as a one-off session can become a permanent digital product generating revenue months or years later.
As we discussed in an earlier post on intellectual property, the ownership of recorded content depends on what was agreed, not on who created the content. If you record your own class on your own platform, you likely own the recording. But if a studio records the class, the studio may claim ownership – particularly if the studio’s contract includes a clause assigning ownership of content created “in connection with” the teacher’s services.
Before agreeing to have an online class recorded, teachers should clarify in writing who owns the recording, what the permitted uses are, whether the studio retains rights after the professional relationship ends, and whether the teacher’s name and image may continue to be associated with the recording indefinitely. These questions are easier to resolve before the first class is recorded than after a library of content has accumulated.
Ownership is only one part of the picture. As we discussed in our post on the PDPA, a recording of an online class captures the personal data of every student who appears or speaks in it – their faces, voices, names (often displayed in Zoom tiles), and sometimes their home environments visible in the background of the camera feed. This brings the recording within scope of the PDPA in its own right, which is separate and different from the copyright analysis. Recording, using, and sharing the recording all require consent from the students concerned, ideally obtained in advance and confirmed in writing. The same considerations apply even more to recordings of one-to-one or small-group sessions, where the recording captures a single identifiable student, often discussing health or personal matters in some detail.
PDPA consent is conceptually distinct from a copyright licence – a teacher may own the recording outright while still needing PDPA consent for the particular use.
Music licensing in the online context
As we discussed in our post on music in class, playing copyrighted music in a yoga class typically requires a public performance licence – in Singapore, this is generally administered by COMPASS for the underlying musical works.
Online teaching changes the picture in several ways. First, a livestreamed class is treated as a public performance in much the same way as an in-studio class, and a separate licence may be required. Second, a recorded class that is posted to YouTube, Instagram, or a wellness platform engages additional rights – in particular, the synchronisation right (the right to combine the music with the video) and the mechanical reproduction right (the right to reproduce the music as part of the recording). These rights are typically not covered by the licence that allows the music to be played in a studio. Third, platforms run their own automated detection systems – Content ID on YouTube, audio fingerprinting on Instagram, similar systems on other platforms – that may flag, mute, demonetise, or remove a recording even where a teacher genuinely believes they have a licence to play the music.
In practice, the safest options for online teaching are to use royalty-free music, music licensed specifically for online use, or no music at all in recordings intended to be posted publicly.
Platform terms and loss of control
When a teacher hosts a class on Zoom, streams it on YouTube, or uploads it to a wellness platform, they are operating within a framework of platform-specific terms of service that they may never have read.
These terms matter. Some platforms grant themselves broad licences over content uploaded by users – the right to host, reproduce, distribute, and in some cases modify the content. While these licences are typically intended to allow the platform to function, the language can be broader than expected. A teacher who uploads a class recording may be granting the platform rights that extend beyond their intention.
Platform terms also govern what happens when things go wrong. If a student complains, the platform may remove content without consulting the teacher. If copyrighted music is detected in a recording, the platform may mute the audio or take the video down. If the platform changes its terms of service, the teacher’s content may be affected in ways they did not anticipate.
Teachers who build a significant portion of their income around digital content should read the terms of service of the platforms they use, understand what rights they are granting, and consider whether hosting content on their own website – where they control the terms – offers better long-term protection. Choosing a platform is also, in part, a data protection decision – a teacher relying on a platform to host classes, recordings, or student data is choosing where that personal data will be stored, and the platform’s security and data handling practices are a relevant consideration alongside its functionality and terms.
Cross-border considerations
One of the attractions of online teaching is that it removes geographic barriers. A teacher based in Singapore can attract students from Malaysia, Australia, Europe, or the United States. This is a genuine opportunity, but it introduces some degree of legal complexity.
A Singapore-based yoga teacher collecting personal data from students, wherever those students are located, is generally subject to the PDPA in respect of that collection. When students join from other jurisdictions, the data protection laws of those jurisdictions may apply in addition to the PDPA, depending on the nature of the engagement and the way the teacher’s business is structured.
In practice, for individual yoga teachers running small-scale online classes, the risk of cross-border regulatory enforcement is low. But as a matter of good practice, teachers should ensure that their privacy notices and consent mechanisms are clear and that they do not collect more data than necessary – principles that align with most data protection frameworks internationally.
Liability is another dimension. Professional indemnity policies vary in whether they cover online teaching at all. Some are written with in-studio practice in mind and exclude online instruction by default, while others cover both. A teacher whose practice has shifted significantly online should check the policy wording, not just the policy summary. Public liability insurance is typically less relevant for online classes than for in-studio classes, since students are not on the teacher’s premises and premises-related incidents are unlikely to arise. Cross-border instruction adds a further layer: if a student in another country is injured during an online class, the question of which country’s laws apply can be complex, and many policies do not cover claims arising from instruction provided to students in other jurisdictions. Teachers who regularly teach international students online should check whether their professional indemnity insurance extends to cross-border instruction, and if it does not, should consider whether additional coverage is warranted.
What this means for you
Online teaching is not inherently riskier than studio teaching, but the risks are different, and they require different management. The duty of care operates at a distance. Content has a longer life and a wider reach. Platform terms introduce a layer of control that does not exist in a physical studio. And cross-border teaching raises questions about applicable law and insurance coverage.
The practical steps are consistent with everything we have covered in this series: clarify ownership before content is created, read the terms of the platforms you use, adjust your teaching to account for the limitations of the online environment, and ensure your insurance covers the way you actually teach, not the way you used to.
These themes – the duty of care at a distance, the lifecycle of recorded content, music licensing, platform terms, cross-border teaching, and insurance – are developed in more depth in the online teaching module of the forthcoming Clear Law for Yoga Teachers toolkit.
This post is part of an ongoing series on legal resources for yoga teachers in Singapore. A comprehensive toolkit covering this topic and more is coming soon!
The information in this article is for general educational purposes only and does not constitute legal advice. It should not be relied upon as a substitute for professional legal advice. Laws and regulations may change, and the information provided may not reflect the most current legal developments. For advice specific to your circumstances, please consult a qualified lawyer. No solicitor-client relationship is created by reading this content.