Earlier this week, a jewellery brand withdrew a Raksha Bandhan advertisement featuring an actor because some social media users criticised her clothing (an ivory lehnga paired with a bralette and cape) and the visuals of her tying a rakhi for a pet dog, alongside her brother.
While the actor stood by the ad, arguing that “women’s cultural respect is still too often judged by what they wear”, the brand removed the ad and apologised.
The reactions weren’t cultural concern, but control dressed up as culture. And it also points to a pattern in what we choose to get angry about, and for how long.
There is no shortage of things worth being angry about. Every monsoon, some of the country’s most expensive neighbourhoods, including parts of Gurugram, turn into lakes as roads and homes flood. In winter, toxic air hangs over the national capital with serious consequences for public health. Even eating out feels like a gamble, with reports of expired products and insect-infested ingredients found in some of the country’s biggest five-star hotels, clubs and restaurants. Forests are mowed down for infrastructure and power projects, putting livelihoods, wildlife and fragile ecosystems at risk. The poorest and most marginalised are displaced for mines, road projects and data centres that benefit those already rich beyond the average person’s wildest dreams. Rising food prices, including essentials such as sugar, affect household budgets.
Yale University’s Environmental Performance Index has this week ranked India among the world’s worst performers on environmental health, air quality and biodiversity.
These are not culture-war talking points. They have a direct bearing on how we live, work, eat and raise our families. Yet they rarely command the sustained fury that a celebrity outfit, a brand’s advertisement or a designer copying another brand can generate online. It’s because social media rewards outrage that is fast, personal and easy to resolve: a brand can pull an ad within a day. Flooding, pollution and food safety are slow and structural. Even something like education reform will take decades to show results, resistant to the kind of instant gratification outrage now runs on.
THE OTHER SIDE
Social media does have its place in our lives, more so now when reading the news can sometimes feel like drowning. Sharing our thoughts online gives us the reassurance that we have a voice and that somewhere, someone will hear.
Outrage isn’t inherently wasteful. It can be genuinely productive when it’s specific and sustained. #BlackLivesMatter turned scattered fury into a sustained global reckoning, and more recently, the Cockroach Janta Party’s Jantar Mantar protest campaigns translated structural grievances into something that felt, in the moment, like a genuine win, bypassing gatekeepers who might otherwise have let those issues fade.
So yes, outrage is essential, and each of our voice has power, but in our quest for instant justice and our eagerness to exercise this power, are we forgetting what that power is actually meant to achieve?