I’ve worked in diversity, equity and inclusion for most of my career, long before DEI had its own acronym and certainly before it became a boardroom buzzword. From internal initiatives to the post-2020 wave of public commitments, I’ve always been deeply invested in helping agencies and clients create spaces where everyone feels seen. And yet, throughout all of this work (despite all the conversations, panels and pledges), I’ve consistently noticed one thing: people of South Asian descent, like myself, are too often absent, not just from the conversations, but from the focus altogether. It’s as if our experiences don’t register as urgent enough to centre – caught in a kind of representational no man’s land: seen as too “successful” to be marginalised, yet too invisible to be meaningfully included.
Growing up in Essex, I never faced overt racism, but honestly, being Indian wasn’t something I celebrated either. It didn’t feel aspirational or cool; it felt like something to downplay. That changed when I moved to London and finally saw a sense of collective pride among other South Asians. But when I stepped into my first advertising agency role, that feeling began to unravel. Suddenly, it was clear that while London may be multicultural, the creative industries, especially at the time, were not. South Asians were present, yes, but mostly in central function roles, rarely at the creative table, and almost never in leadership.
Recently, I started a new role, and for the first time, I could show up fully. Within days, I saw senior leaders who shared my heritage; individuals who’ve shaped British culture quietly, without needing to announce it. But what really struck me wasn’t just seeing someone who looked like me, it was being seen. After a casual chat about family, a colleague switched into Gujarati – my parents’ mother tongue – I was so proud I called them that evening.
This prompted me to dig deeper into the broader influence of South Asian culture in the UK – something I had always felt, but never fully seen reflected in the spaces I worked in.
South Asians now make up more than five million people in the UK (around 7.5% of the population), and our influence reaches far beyond the numbers. From food to fashion, music to media, our culture is everywhere. Diwali is now marked by luxury brands like Cartier and featured by the British Fashion Council. Artists from collectives like Daytimers are headlining Glastonbury and Boiler Room, reshaping the soundscape of British nightlife. Indian-owned businesses employ more than 126,000 people and generate £72bn in annual revenue. South Asian entrepreneurs own 14% of all UK SMEs, their impact spanning high streets, boardrooms and global markets.
This isn’t a niche. It’s not a “diversity box” to tick. It’s a vital, dynamic part of British culture and yet, in our industry, South Asians are still missing from the rooms where stories are shaped and decisions are made.
That absence isn’t accidental. There’s a legacy here of being raised to work hard but stay quiet, to succeed without making a fuss. Back in 2007, The Guardian called it out, noting how Raoul Shah, founder of Exposure, was one of the few British Asians recognised in a year when a major media list included no people of colour at all. It was proof even then that our contributions were shaping culture, yet somehow happening out of sight – a quiet influence that, nearly two decades on, still struggles to be seen in the rooms where it matters. It’s a pattern I’ve seen play out again and again in our industry. An industry that prides itself on being ahead of culture, but still struggles to reflect the full spectrum of it.
We can’t afford to keep overlooking the lack of South Asian talent in our industry, in both leadership and creative roles. Not just because it’s the right thing to do, but because it’s a missed opportunity. South Asians in the UK represent one of the most culturally fluent, globally connected and commercially influential communities in the country. So, if you work in this industry – if you're shaping campaigns, building teams, or making culture – the question is simple: can you really say you're future-facing, if you’re not seeing us?
Sonia Gilchrist is a client director at Exposure, London
