IN a world where we pride ourselves on progress in terms of gender equality, education and social awareness, one cannot help but notice a peculiar contradiction playing out in some public spaces.
Sometimes, the very women who champion discipline at home or professionalism at work often morph into rule-bending, line-breaking and volume-maximizing entities the moment they step outside. Imagine a situation, a crowded bank with a serpentine queue, and then—the swoop. An otherwise dignified female materializes out of nowhere, nudging past with a well-practiced “beta, thoda adjust karo” (child, adjust a little).
The question is not whether women lack civic sense but whether some use their privilege whether it be age, class or boldness to disregard it, or is it strategic ignorance? Either way, the message is clear that rules are for other people. And let’s not forget the deafening decibel dialogues—whether on the phone or with friends, that turns public transport or even cinemas into a personal conference room. In such cases, education and exposure is irrelevant. A PhD might not stop someone from treating a library like a kitty-party venue.
The Elitism Paradox comes into play here, one might assume that civic sense correlates with privilege. Yet, reality is often the opposite. The woman in designer wear might litter without a second thought while the street vendor might ensure that her stall stays spotless. Is it a case of “I pay taxes, so the road is my living room” mentality? Or does privilege dilute accountability, fostering a “someone else will clean up” attitude? Civility is not a luxury; it is the glue that holds a society together. Yet, somewhere between “what will people say” and “we cannot do this” basic manners got lost. The irony? Those, with the least, often exhibit the most consideration—holding doors, offering seats or patiently waiting for their turn. Meanwhile, the “elite” might preach feminism but practice queue-jumping feminism.
Now the question arises: Is it entitlement, habit or something deeper? Psychology and sociology have some answers for this attitude. The “I’m Special” Syndrome (Social Identity Theory, Tajfel & Turner, 1979) says that people derive self-worth from their group, whether class, age or social status. A well-off, older woman might see herself as above the rules that govern “ordinary” people. Queue? That’s for the masses. Volume control? Only if she feels like it. Her social identity grants her an unspoken license to bend norms. Have you ever noticed how we sometimes scold our maids for being late but have no qualms holding up a supermarket line to argue over a 5-rupee discount? The Bystander Effect (Darley & Latané, 1968) explains why people in crowds ignore bad behaviour. They assume that someone else will intervene. This emboldens rule-breakers especially if they belong to a “protected” demographic. A loud phone talker in a restaurant is not just being rude-they are banking on the fact that no one will dare to shush them.
The Moral Credit Card (License to Sin Effect) research by Monin & Miller (2001) shows that people who see themselves as “good” often feel entitled to small transgressions. The impeccably dressed corporate woman who litters might think, “I donate to NGOs, this one chip wrapper cannot define me.” Meanwhile, a small street vendor who is aware of societal judgment might meticulously keep her stall clean. Normally, Learned Helplessness (Seligman, 1972) describes how people give up when they feel powerless. But flip it—when society never holds certain groups accountable (e.g., excusing a certain group with “Let it go”) they learn that rules are optional. Pierre Bourdieu’s (1986) theory of Cultural Capital suggests that elites do not just have a privilege—they perform it. For some, disregarding civic norms is a way to signal, “I don’t need to care.” Ironically, those with less privilege often follow rules more strictly to avoid negative stereotypes.
This article is not to shame women—it is about calling out selective civic sense. If we demand respect in boardrooms and streets, should we not also respect shared spaces? Maybe it is time for a collective mirror check: Are we part of the problem? In an attempt to address this issue, awareness is the first step. If women (especially privileged ones) recognize these psychological traps, maybe we would see fewer line-breakers and more role models. After all, good manners cost nothing, but their absence? That can cost society everything. Perhaps it is time for a societal refresh button, where ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ make a grand comeback, queues are respected as sacred formations, and public spaces become realms of considerate co-existence.
—The writer is contributing columnist, based in Islamabad.
