Something happened the other day that really got under my skin. A guy at the table near us was really rude to the waitress, and I couldn’t stop replaying it in my head afterward. It wasn’t just annoying, he was totally disrespectful.

But the moment itself wasn’t what stayed with me. It was how familiar it felt. I’ve seen this behaviour over and over again. I’ve been on the receiving end of it, and I’ve watched other people be on the receiving end of it too. And it always lands the same way. It makes the person on the other side feel small, dismissed, or like they’re somehow not enough. And of course, that’s completely untrue. They are enough.

What’s really going on is rarely about the person being targeted. It’s about the one dishing out the disrespect. Usually, it comes from insecurity. A need to feel bigger, more important, or in control by making someone else feel smaller. It reveals far more about them than it ever does about the person in front of them. Beneath it all lies a quiet, misguided belief that some people are somehow inherently “better” than others.

Better than the cleaner. Better than the shop assistant. Better than the person serving their coffee. Better than the person who didn’t go to the “right” school or doesn’t have the “right” job title. Better… because of status. I’ve seen people genuinely believe they’re superior just because they own a business, sit in a leadership role, or make more money. I’ve seen them use their position like a shield, or worse, like a weapon. Speaking down to people. Dismissing them. Acting like their time, their voice and their opinions matter more than everyone else’s. And I keep thinking… why? Why do you think you’re better than anyone else, really? Because you started a business? Because you were born into money? Because you have a certain job title? So what? They say very little about who you actually are as a person.

Some of the people who think they’re “above” others are, honestly, not very nice people at all. They’re wrapped up in a belief system that tells them they’ve earned the right to look down on others, and that belief leaks into everything - the way they speak, the way they listen, the way they treat people when no one important is watching. I know, intellectually, that this is about them. About their insecurities, their need to feel important. But that doesn’t make it okay. It’s not okay to treat someone with disrespect just because you think your life looks more impressive than theirs.

Here’s what really gets me: I honestly think the average person on the street probably has more common sense than a CEO or top politician. Not more technical knowledge, not deeper industry expertise, but more real-world understanding. More awareness of how people are actually living. More instinct for what everyday life really looks like right now. More sensitivity to what people are struggling with, what scares them, and what they quietly carry with them. Yes, someone might be incredibly knowledgeable in one very specific area, and that matters. But knowledge about systems, markets and growth isn’t more valuable than knowledge about people.

Someone in a so-called “low status” job might have better ideas than you. They might understand community better than you. They might see problems you’ve never even noticed, simply because those problems don’t touch your life. They will know what’s best for people who live like them, and that knowledge is not lesser than yours. I think a lot of power structures reward a very narrow type of intelligence, and then quietly convince the people who succeed inside those structures that they must be smarter, better and more deserving in every possible way. But life isn’t a single game with one scoring system. Different lives build different kinds of wisdom.

I don’t know if this sounds naive, but sometimes I imagine a world where people actually shared what they knew, where knowledge didn’t sit locked away in silos, guarded by job titles or hierarchies. A world where people offered what they knew from their own small corner of experience, where mutual respect came before authority, and listening mattered just as much as speaking, if not more. Can you imagine how powerful that would be? How ideas could ripple outward, not just top-down, but sideways, connecting people who would never normally find themselves in the same room?

I’m not saying we don’t need structure. We do. We need systems, organisation and leadership. But we also need autonomy, and we desperately need humility inside those structures. We need leaders who understand that their perspective isn’t the only valid one - and very often isn’t the most grounded one either. Real respect isn’t about pretending everyone is the same. It’s about recognising that everyone brings something real. And honestly? The person cleaning the floor might understand more about life, people and quiet resilience than the person giving the keynote speech upstairs. We don’t need a world where everyone is equal in status. We need a world where everyone is equal in dignity. 🩷