Ashley Madison’s recent attempt to label Kanchipuram as the “cheating capital of India” is not just absurd—it’s a calculated act of cultural vandalism. This isn’t a sociological study. It’s a marketing ploy by a Canadian-French dating platform infamous for monetizing marital betrayal. The report, based solely on user engagement within their own app, lacks any empirical credibility. It’s a self-serving narrative designed to manufacture relevance in a country that has historically resisted the commodification of intimacy.
Let’s be clear: there is no peer-reviewed data, no census-backed evidence, no academic study that validates the claim that Kanchipuram—or any Indian city—is a hub of extramarital affairs. The app’s rankings are based on internal metrics: signups, clicks, and engagement. In a town of under 200,000 people, even a few hundred users can distort the picture. That’s not insight—it’s statistical opportunism.
But the deeper offense lies in the cultural framing. Kanchipuram is not just any town—it’s a spiritual nucleus of Hindu tradition, home to centuries-old temples and sacred rituals. To reduce it to a metric on an adultery dashboard is not just tone-deaf—it’s a desecration. Ashley Madison’s report treats India not as a civilization but as a market. It ignores the layered complexity of Indian relationships, the intergenerational bonds, the spiritual dimensions of marriage, and the communal ethos that underpins our social fabric.
Extramarital relationships are not new to India. They’ve existed for millennia, explored in our epics, our poetry, our philosophical texts. The Mahabharata, the Kamasutra, Sangam literature—all grapple with desire, fidelity, and the human condition. But these explorations were never framed through the lens of moral panic or capitalist exploitation. They were nuanced, contextual, and deeply embedded in dharmic discourse.
Ashley Madison, on the other hand, peddles betrayal as liberation. Its tagline—“Life is short. Have an affair”—is not empowerment. It’s erosion. And the model it promotes has already shown its cracks in the very societies that birthed it.
Consider the Western blueprint of “modern relationships”:
- Divorce rates in the US and parts of Europe hover around 40–50%, with millions of children growing up in fractured homes.
- Single motherhood is epidemic, with women juggling careers, parenting, and emotional trauma—while being told this is empowerment.
- The gender wage gap remains stubbornly unresolved, despite decades of activism.
- Men face rising rates of loneliness, disengagement, and suicidality, unable to find meaning in transient, transactional relationships.
This is the model Ashley Madison wants India to emulate?
India’s cultural ecosystem is different—and resilient. Our relationships are not built on algorithms. They’re built on duty, reciprocity, and spiritual anchoring. Women in India are empowered not just by the right to choose, but by the strength of community, tradition, and interdependence. We don’t need imported ideologies that glorify secrecy and undermine trust. We don’t need apps that monetize betrayal and call it progress.
Ashley Madison’s report is not a mirror—it’s a mirage. It invents a wound, then sells the bandage. It uses clickbait rankings to create moral panic, hoping to drive traffic and signups. And it dares to label a city like Kanchipuram—a bastion of spiritual heritage—as a hub of infidelity based on a few hundred app users.
India doesn’t buy this dystopia. We’ve had centuries of robust conversations around love, desire, duty, and community. What we refuse to entertain are third-rate websites with hollow slogans, peddling betrayal as modernity and digital infidelity as freedom.
Ashley Madison may have found a few users in India. But it hasn’t found a foothold in our values. And it never will.
