Preksha Chaudhary
Consider the reach of some Indian influencers with millions of subscribers and followers on Instagram, YouTube, and other platforms. On these accounts, millions of viewers are invited daily to laugh at individuals’ spiked hairstyles, different haircolours, bright clothes, makeup styles, local accents and dialects, deliberate mispronunciation of words, and romantic gestures coded as “chapri” or “nibba-nibbi.” The scale of these followings makes clear that “cringe” is not an incidental label but a cultural project, deeply intertwined with judgments about aesthetics, including factors such as skin colour, language, attire, caste, and other markers of identity.
To laugh along, then, is not an act of subjectivity but participation in a caste-coded economy of cultural legitimacy, where only certain ways of speaking, dressing, or loving are allowed to appear respectable. Hence, to understand the politics of cringe in India, one must begin with caste and with the scale at which caste-coded ridicule, wrapped as humour, with tags like ‘Chapri’ and ‘Kurla boys’ plastered across the top, ‘That one Gaon ki ladki ka attitude in mall for no reason’ circulates online.
These accounts perpetuate the label of cringe, fostering a community where users can collectively laugh at and critique the perceived absurdity of others’ expressions. This dynamic not only reinforces existing hierarchies of taste and cultural legitimacy but also creates an environment where content is stripped of its original meaning and context.
So, how does something become Cringe?
I call this “the politics of cringe” to help examine the process through which something gets categorized as cringe. This concept is not stagnant; rather, it is continually regulated and controlled to organize and maintain social distinctions. “Cringe” serves as a symbolic marker that not only reflects individual aesthetic judgments but also reveals broader anxieties about social mobility and cultural legitimacy.
A hairstyle, a particular hair colour, a brand of shoes, a style of clothing, or even a vehicle is not inherently “cringe.” It becomes cringe only when it is no longer the jurisdiction of a small elite and becomes accessible to a mass audience. What is dismissed as cringe or bad taste is less about the object itself than about its circulation and reach.
This begs the question of whether taste and aesthetics are really subjective or whether they are built on a vicious calculation of distance from the items, expressions, and aesthetics adopted by the subaltern masses. Thus, the labeling is not a neutral or uniform process; it is shaped by ongoing struggles over cultural legitimacy, where aesthetics serve as a battleground for asserting social control and maintaining established cultural values.
The aesthetic values tied to social hierarchies play a crucial role in determining which content is marginalized or celebrated on the platform. For example, the preference for specific beauty standards or linguistic practices may privilege content that aligns with dominant cultural ideals, while content reflecting diverse or subaltern identities is often relegated to the category of “cringe.” This dynamic reveals how aesthetic preferences intersect with social and political power, as the designation of “cringe” functions to reinforce existing hierarchies and marginalize expressions that challenge normative boundaries.
This form of entertainment functions as a seesaw of reward and ridicule. It marks the distance between audiences with cultural and social capital and those labeled cringe, rewarding the former’s very sense of this distance while continuing to ridicule and press down those cast as its targets.
Is ‘Cringe’ a Gen Z Phenomenon?
On the surface, it might appear as if labelling things ‘cringe’ is a nascent phenomenon; however, this has roots in the socio-cultural caste realities of our country. In so, the term might be borrowed, but the sentiment goes back a long way. The term “cringe” functions as a cultural label that reflects shifting power dynamics in the ownership and valuation of cultural practices. Historically, certain forms of art, expression, or lifestyle practices have been considered markers of high culture, associated with the upper caste elite class who have the means and social standing to consume or produce these cultural artifacts. The exclusivity of these practices serves as a form of social capital, reinforcing the distinction between elite and popular culture.
This phenomenon reveals a form of cultural policing that aligns with Pierre Bourdieu’s theory of cultural capital, where taste is not merely a matter of individual preference but a social weapon used to maintain class distinctions. By labeling a cultural form as “cringe,” the elite or culturally authoritative voices exert control over what is considered tasteful or sophisticated, while implicitly reinforcing a politics of exclusion. This politics manifests as a way to regulate cultural consumption, ensuring that the markers of social status remain protected from overexposure or association with the subaltern communities.
The concept of “cringe” is deeply intertwined with power struggles that shape societal perceptions of value and legitimacy in entertainment. The labeling of certain content as cringe reflects broader cultural dynamics, where those in positions of privilege often dictate what is considered acceptable or worthy of engagement. This hierarchical approach not only marginalizes creators from underrepresented backgrounds but also perpetuates stereotypes that devalue their contributions.
Power struggles manifest in various forms, including aesthetics, language, and cultural norms, influencing how individuals interpret and react to different types of content. For instance, creators who do not conform to established standards of professionalism or who employ colloquial language may be dismissed as unworthy of serious consideration. This reflects a deeper societal bias that privileges certain expressions over others, reinforcing existing power dynamics.
Recognizing that the concept of cringe is not merely a subjective judgment but a reflection of underlying power struggles allows for a more nuanced understanding of how cultural hierarchies operate. By challenging these dynamics and embracing a broader definition of legitimacy in entertainment, we can foster a more inclusive discourse that uplifts diverse voices and experiences. Ultimately, understanding cringe in the context of power struggles not only enriches our appreciation of contemporary cultural expressions but also highlights the need for ongoing dialogue about the complexities of identity, creativity, and societal value in our rapidly changing digital space.
It is pertinent at this point to question what the cost of your entertainment is, and not brush it under the rug of subjectivity.
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Preksha Chaudhary is a postgraduate in History with an interest in research in cultural history, cultural studies, cinema, and pedagogy, and how these areas help us understand everyday life, power, and the ways knowledge is produced and challenged.
