I spent years in Silicon Valley through the post-George Floyd surge in DEI (diversity, equity and inclusion) efforts, and then witnessed its very public retreat earlier in 2025. The year 2025 may be remembered as the point in history when corporate efforts in the US were visibly rolled back, with its impact seen in representation in advertising.
America became markedly more cautious in how race and gender appeared in mainstream advertising. But its approach has had limited impact on India. Most of our focus continues to be on safer areas, such as gender, specifically women’s empowerment. Ads depicting lower socio-economic groups, disability, ageing, non-model bodies, and darker skin tones have gained traction, largely for defensible business reasons.
But caste is conspicuous by its absence in Indian advertising. Even though Indians are witness to caste every day, it remains a no-go area for marketers, given the complexity of the topic and the likely political and online backlash. It doesn’t help that decision-making power remains concentrated among savarna elites. As a result, we portray a modern India (or Bharat) without social hierarchy, when most of the labour economy, from domestic work and delivery to sanitation, gig labour, construction and farming, remains caste structured. You only need to notice the difference between how an Urban Company masseuse is perceived and how an Urban Company bathroom cleaner is treated. Or ask why domestic workers in many homes are still asked to drink from separate cups.
This is not merely a representational blind spot; it is a business risk. Marketplaces like Blinkit, Zomato, Swiggy and Urban Company rely on trust from both workers and consumers to grow. When the dignity projected in advertising sits at odds with workers’ lived experiences, credibility diminishes across the platform. Advertising cannot indefinitely mask the inequalities that workers endure, and consumers increasingly see.
For marketers keen to explore caste, there are persuasive ways forward, without stepping on landmines. But before that, it will be useful to acknowledge the various phases of caste depiction in Indian advertising, not as a definitive history, but as a pattern of dominant aesthetics. Seen over time, this avoidance follows a pattern.
1980s to 2010: The middle-class default
During this period, mainstream advertising projected a narrow, aspirational ideal: light-skinned, largely urban, mostly Hindi-speaking families, with consumption as the marker of progress. Barring a few exceptions, caste was invisible, as depictions aligned with dominant caste norms.
2010s to 2020: Diversity without caste
As brands grew and made themselves available to more consumers, they embraced gender equity, disability, and occasionally LGBTQ representation. Gender was seen as universal and progressive, sexuality as bold but mostly manageable. However, even influential purpose-led campaigns mostly avoided caste.
2020 to present: Labour without context
App-based labour platforms have made their workers central to advertising. But these portrayals are curated: workers appear as cheerful ‘partners’, portrayed as ambitious, and equal in their aspirations. Some of the creative work is remarkably thoughtful and moving (like Urban Co.), but could go a click deeper. It remains detached from caste-linked realities such as occupational inheritance or discrimination.
The challenge for Indian advertising is how to become fluent in representing a caste-shaped society without turning ads into preachy lectures or controversies.
So, where can advertising begin, without slogans or sermonizing?
For one, start recognizing caste when you see it, and you might see it more often. Another piece of advice that stayed with me when I tried to be an ally on casteism in the US: “Nothing about us, without us”. Involving lower-caste workers and civil society groups will help more than top-down storytelling from agency conference rooms in Mumbai and Gurugram.
The most effective race-conscious American advertising did not begin with slogans like ‘Black Lives Matter’. It began with everyday scenes, subtle power imbalances, and familiar situations where bias is felt, not explained. For example, in P&G’s ‘The Talk’ (2017), there are no villains or slogans. Bias is communicated through anticipation, and the power imbalance is felt in pauses, glances, and tone. In the context of caste in India, think of the separate teacups again. There won’t be a dearth of examples. But creatives must get permission to be subtle.
One reason caste scares advertisers is the fear of miscasting or misnaming. This is not unique to caste, and advertising elsewhere offers useful lessons. Instead of identity-led casting, miscasting can be sidestepped through situational truths. Like who enters the kitchen, who waits outside, who serves. And instead of naming caste directly, misnaming can be avoided by naming the behaviour, practice, or inequality being reproduced.
Indian advertising has brushed against caste before. Take a look at Idea Cellular’s ‘Caste War’ (2007). While the execution was debatable, the sincerity was unmistakable.
In a social media world, it’s important for marketing teams to bring leadership, communications, and legal teams, so they are in alignment on what the brand stands for, and can decide what criticism is acceptable.
As Indian brands plan their next phase of growth, there is an opportunity for caste-aware advertising that is persuasive and relies on recognition, not revelation. Brands that learn to do this well will not just avoid backlash, they will earn a deeper kind of credibility in a society that already knows these hierarchies exist.
Rahul Fernandes has worked on global marketing at Meta, Google and TikTok, and is the founder of Threefold Bay.