A table with a sign that reads 'Reserved for VIPs'
Credit: iStock Photo
Let’s be honest — all of us love VIP treatment, if we can get it.
We can act outraged when politicians stop traffic, bureaucrats jump queues, or celebrities get priority service, but the truth is, if we were in their position, we’d happily enjoy the same privileges. The problem isn’t VIP culture itself — it’s that we aren’t always included.
Think about it. When we’re stuck in a long queue at a temple, aren’t we secretly hoping that a well-connected friend or relative will call and say, ‘Arre, don’t stand in line, I know the trustee, I’ll get you a special darshan’? When we can’t get a table at a fancy restaurant, don’t we try to find someone who ‘knows the manager’? We shake our heads when we hear of billionaires getting exclusive access to events, but even in the middle class, we pull whatever small strings we must make life a little easier.
In wealthier circles, this isn’t just expected — it’s a service you can buy. If you have money, you don’t need to ‘know someone’ personally; you just hire someone who does. The hotel concierge, the luxury credit card concierge service, the exclusive travel agency — they exist to ensure that you never hear the word ‘no’. Want last-minute reservations at a fully booked restaurant? A VIP box at Wimbledon? A private audience with a celebrity chef? No problem — if you can pay, you can play.
What intrigues me is the moral outrage we show towards a system that most of us are a part of. We criticise it loudly in public, but quietly make use of it whenever possible. It’s a bit like those WhatsApp groups where everyone agrees that corruption is terrible — until someone needs ‘help’ getting their child into a good school.
At its core, VIP culture is simply a reflection of how we, as a society, think about privilege and hierarchy. The expectation of special treatment isn’t just an Indian thing — it’s universal. From ancient royalty to modern-day billionaires, those at the top have always expected a different set of rules. The only difference now is that the game has been democratised. It’s no longer just kings and queens who get special access — it’s anyone who has wealth, influence, or the right connections.
Socially, it makes sense too. We’re wired to seek status. In every era, in every culture, human beings have wanted to be part of the inner circle. Whether it was the courtiers in a royal durbar, the industrialists of the 20th century, or the startup founders and influencers of today, being among the elite has always had its perks. The only thing that changes is who the VIPs are and how they get there.
That’s why, no matter how much we criticise VIP culture, we secretly want to be part of it. The same people who complain about special queues at the airport will happily use priority boarding if their airline miles allow it. The same people who rant about elite clubs will rush to sign up if they get an invite. The truth is, fairness is a great concept, in theory — but in practice, nobody wants to wait if they don’t have to.
VIP culture isn’t just about money or power — it’s also about perception. Sometimes, just looking the part gets you the special treatment.
Ever noticed how at luxury stores, the staff treats you differently based on what you wear? Walk in wearing flip-flops and an old T-shirt, and they might barely acknowledge you. Show up in a sharp blazer and a luxury watch, and suddenly, they’re offering you a seat and an espresso. The same happens at airports — act confident, carry premium luggage, and there’s a chance the security guy assumes you belong in the business class queue, even if you don’t.
This also explains why we love flashing status symbols. The car you drive, the watch you wear, the brands you carry — it’s all part of signalling that you belong to the ‘special’ category. There’s a reason why people will buy the most expensive credit card just for the exclusive global network access, or why owning an elite golf club membership isn’t really about playing golf — it’s about showing that you can.
Then there’s the biggest illusion of all: the promise of future VIP treatment. Luxury brands don’t just sell products; they sell the feeling of exclusivity. Credit card companies tempt you with ‘by-invitation-only’ status. Airlines make you chase platinum membership levels, dangling the dream of priority everything. Even social media plays into this — Instagram’s blue tick, exclusive LinkedIn memberships, private WhatsApp investment groups. Everyone wants to be in a space where others can’t be.
At the end of the day, VIP culture thrives because it taps into something fundamental about human nature — the need to feel important, to be recognised, to be part of the few instead of the many.
So, whether it’s a billionaire getting an entire temple cleared for his private visit, or you slipping the waiter a little extra to get a better table, let’s be honest: everyone wants to be a VIP, at least in some small way. We’re just waiting for our turn.
(Srinath Sridharan is a corporate adviser and independent director on corporate boards. X: @ssmumbai.)
Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.