One of the deepest and most destructive problems in Indian society today is not poverty, not lack of talent, and not even lack of opportunity—it is the arrogance born out of hierarchy, the false self-esteem of rank, and the ego of perceived superiority. This mindset silently shapes institutions, workplaces, governance, and everyday human interactions. It does not merely damage systems; it damages people, relationships, creativity, morality, and ultimately, the soul of society itself.
India is a land of immense intelligence, diversity, and potential. Yet, it is equally a land where power is worshiped, rank is feared, and questioning authority is treated as an act of rebellion. The result is a deeply hierarchical culture where those at the top often confuse position with wisdom, authority with intelligence, and power with moral superiority.
Hierarchy as a Way of Life
Let us begin with a familiar environment: a university.
In many Indian universities, hierarchy does not stop at administrative roles; it penetrates deeply into personal behavior and professional ethics. Professors often behave as if they are inherently superior to associate professors. Associate professors consider themselves above assistant professors, and assistant professors, in turn, behave as if postdoctoral researchers and PhD students exist merely to obey, not to think.
If an assistant or associate professor dares to ask a question, raise a concern, or challenge an idea presented by a senior professor, the response is often not intellectual engagement but offended authority. Instead of receiving a reasoned answer, they are met with reactions such as, “How dare you question me? Do you know who I am? I am a professor.”
The irony is painful. Universities are supposed to be spaces of debate, inquiry, and critical thinking. Yet, arrogance turns them into spaces of silence, submission, and fear. Knowledge is no longer pursued; it is guarded as personal property by those who believe rank automatically grants intellectual infallibility.
The Fear of Questioning: From Classrooms to Police Stations
This culture of unquestioned hierarchy does not end in universities. It extends to almost every profession in India.
Consider the police system. A constable hesitates to question an inspector. An inspector hesitates to ask a Station House Officer (SHO). An SHO fears approaching an Assistant Superintendent of Police (ASP). The ASP cannot question the Superintendent of Police (SP). This chain continues upward, not because questions are forbidden by law, but because fear has been institutionalised.
From childhood, people are taught a single dangerous lesson:
“Just say yes.”
Yes to your seniors.
Yes to your officers.
Yes to your leaders.
Yes to power.
Asking questions is seen not as a responsibility, but as rebellion. Silence becomes survival.
The Cult of Competitive Exams and Manufactured Superiority
One of the most toxic contributors to this arrogance is the myth surrounding so-called “toughest exams.” Clearing an exam—whether it is for civil services, medical entrance, judicial services, or academic positions—has become a moral license for superiority.
The mindset goes something like this:
“I cleared this exam. I suffered. I worked hard. Therefore, I am superior. You are inferior.”
But qualifying an exam proves only one thing: you passed that exam.
It does not prove wisdom.
It does not prove honesty.
It does not prove moral superiority.
It does not grant immunity from responsibility or corruption.
Yet in India, clearing a prestigious exam often elevates individuals to near-divine status. Officers such as SPs, collectors, and senior bureaucrats are treated like semi-gods. The public—rich or poor—is reduced to something insignificant, disposable, and powerless.
This is not respect.
This is fear mixed with arrogance.
Power Without Accountability Becomes Violence
When arrogance meets unchecked power, it often turns violent—physically, psychologically, or institutionally.
Take the disturbing example of a doctor assaulting a patient because the patient allegedly did not greet him “properly.” Instead of using legal or administrative channels, the doctor resorted to physical violence, beating the patient with a rod. The justification implicit in such acts is terrifyingly simple:
“I am a doctor. I cleared difficult exams. How dare you treat me like an ordinary human?”
This is not professionalism.
This is not education.
This is pure arrogance.
Even more troubling was the reaction that followed—rallies and support from fellow doctors, defending the act in the name of professional pride. If doctors are considered second only to God because they save lives, then their superiority should be reflected in compassion, patience, and dignity—not in fists and rage.
True superiority is shown through restraint, not violence.
Political Power and the Arrogance of Authority
The same pattern repeats itself in politics.
An MLA often considers government officers and the general public as insignificant. An MP considers himself superior to MLAs. A Chief Minister stands above MPs. A Prime Minister stands above all. At each level, questioning upward is discouraged, while commanding downward is normalised.
An officer hesitates to question an MLA.
An MLA hesitates to question an MP.
An MP hesitates to question the CM or PM.
Why?
Because the culture whispers constantly: “How dare you ask?”
This arrogance of power creates a society where public servants forget that they are servants, not masters. People fear asking questions, filing complaints, or demanding accountability. They accept what they receive and silently tolerate what they are denied.
This silence is not consent; it is helplessness.
Arrogance Is Not Knowledge, and Power Is Not Wisdom
One of the most dangerous illusions in Indian society is the belief that rank equals intelligence and authority equals truth.
If clearing one exam truly made someone superior in every sense, then why did they not create the world’s greatest innovations? Why did they not build companies like Google, Apple, Amazon, or Facebook? Why did they not revolutionise science, technology, or philosophy?
Many individuals who transformed humanity were:
- College dropouts
- Poor
- Illiterate by formal standards
- Outside elite systems
They proved superiority not through arrogance, but through work, creativity, humility, and persistence.
Superiority is demonstrated by contribution, not by position.
Education Should Make Us Human, Not Arrogant
The purpose of education is not to create arrogant individuals intoxicated by rank. Education is meant to refine us, humanize us, and instill moral values, empathy, responsibility, and critical thinking.
If education merely teaches people how to dominate others, then it has failed.
No law, punishment, or authority can teach morality. Only quality education combined with humility can. Education should differentiate humans from animals—not by power, but by ethics.
Responding to stupidity with stupidity does not make one intelligent. Responding to aggression with arrogance does not make one superior. True education teaches restraint, patience, and understanding.
The Frog in the Well: A Perfect Metaphor
There is an old metaphor of a frog living in a well who believes the well is the entire world. Within that limited space, the frog feels supreme. But the moment it steps outside, its illusion collapses.
Many powerful individuals in India live like frogs in wells. Within their offices, ranks, and titles, they feel invincible. They believe they know everything. They believe no one is equal to them.
But they have never stepped outside their well.
True greatness comes from recognising that there are always people wiser, kinder, and more capable than us—regardless of rank.
Power Comes With Responsibility, Not Privilege
Power is not a reward; it is a burden. Authority is not a crown; it is a responsibility. Rank does not grant moral immunity—it demands higher ethical standards.
If you are given power:
- Use it to serve, not dominate
- Use it to uplift, not humiliate
- Use it to solve problems, not silence voices
Treating people as cockroaches does not make you strong; it exposes moral weakness.
Conclusion: Redefining Superiority
India does not suffer from a lack of talent. It suffers from misunderstood superiority.
Superiority is not arrogance.
Superiority is not rank.
Superiority is not power.
Superiority is humility with competence.
Superiority is authority with accountability.
Superiority is knowledge with compassion.
Every human being is special. No one is perfect. There will always be people better than us in some way. Recognising this truth is the beginning of wisdom.
To those who believe qualifying an exam entitles them to be treated differently, remember this simple truth: your power exists because society trusts you to serve it.
As a popular line from cinema reminds us:
“With great power comes great responsibility.”
If we forget this, power will not elevate us—it will destroy us and those around us.
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