Travellers Squeezed Between Manspreading & Bagspreading

Manspreading, the habit of sitting with legs spread wide with knees drifting into a neighbour's territory, has been a flashpoint globally for over a decade. The term entered public vocabulary around 2013, when an anti-manspreading campaign on social media caught fire, and was officially added to the Oxford English Dictionary by 2015.

Since then, cities from Mumbai to Madrid, from Delhi to Dallas and Paris, New York have launched awareness campaigns, designated women-only coaches, and in some cases, even made arrests. Two men were detained in New York City for the offence. Now the conversation has arrived firmly in India, where the stakes are considerable.

The Delhi Metro alone recorded over 2,358 million passenger journeys in 2025, averaging 6.46 million riders every single day. In that kind of crowd, a few encroached inches matter a great deal. Surprisingly, instances of 'manspreading' and 'bagspreading' are rare on Mumbai’s ‘Lifeline’, the crowded local train network that carries over 8 million commuters daily.

Bagspreading, placing a handbag, backpack, or piece of luggage on the seat next to you on a packed vehicle, is increasingly being called out as the equally inconsiderate flip side of the same coin. Where manspreading involves sitting with legs spread wide to take up more than one seat, bagspreading refers to placing personal items on adjacent seats. Both behaviours have sparked debate about who is really entitled to what on public transport.

Business etiquette coach Seema Puri has watched both play out on metros, in airport lounges, and at hotel lobbies — and she makes no distinction between the two offenders. “It's wrong whether a man is doing it or a woman is doing it — both are wrong,” she says. “Public transport is not a personal space. It’s a shared place, and it requires us to be mindful of our physical and behavioural footprint, whether that's our posture or our belongings.”

She recalls a scene at a busy airport that stayed with her. A mother with two young children had spread toys, a pram, and assorted bags across an entire row, while her husband sat at the far end, seemingly oblivious. “I literally had to say, can I help you with your belongings? Can we shift a little?” Puri recounts. They moved, but not without reluctance. “They were expecting me to understand. But you could require one extra seat, maybe two — not four or five. This is not your drawing room.”

Bijoy Saha, a tech consultant who commutes on the Delhi Metro, says getting a seat during rush hour is rarely even on the table. “While commuting, I hardly ever get a seat in the metro during office hours.

There’s barely even space to stand,” he says. “As a young male, you’re usually the last one expected to sit.” He has also clocked a subtler form of space-grabbing along the way. “Some people use their children to get a seat first and then slowly make space for themselves,” he says. When someone leans their full body weight on him, his response is pragmatic. “I either call it out or just ignore it,” he says.

Independent journalist Jyoti Thakur, who travels regularly by both bus and metro, takes a more measured view. “It has never happened to me that I felt intimidated,” she says. She is also quick to credit improvements already made to the system. “There has been a lot of improvement as well, over the years. Marshals have been deployed, rows have been designated for women,” she notes. That said, she is clear-eyed about what enforcement can realistically achieve. “I also think it is difficult to manage given the crowd. At that time, it is enough to just stand. It is very difficult to get a seat.”

Cities like New York, Philadelphia, and Seattle have run public awareness campaigns targeting inconsiderate seating behaviour, with slogans like “Dude, stop the spread please!” appearing on metro placards. Madrid has attempted a formal ban on manspreading on buses, while the Council of Paris has described it as a form of gendered violence in shared public spaces.

Puri is cautiously supportive of awareness efforts, but wary of the tone they can take. Campaigns help, she says, but not when they lecture. “I never say you shouldn't be doing this. It’s just a reminder. I'm not telling you that you’ve forgotten your manners,” she explains. “Make it sound like a sweet reminder rather than an instruction.” She also points out that context matters: people with hip conditions, larger body types, or physical limitations may genuinely need more room, and any reasonable understanding of public etiquette has to make room for that too.

Look around you on any crowded Indian bus, metro and train, and you will realise that many men refuse to take off their backpacks while on public transport. Sheetal Dev, an international travel consultant, feels that both men and women are guilty of blocking seats on public transport. Dev says, “Some men routinely sit with their legs spread wide apart with no concern for others. Women can be vicious, too. I have seen women stacking empty seats with shopping bags. In such instances, you can be polite yet firm. You ask them to stow their luggage above or below the seat and then sit on the empty seat.”

Bijoy Saha, who rarely gets a seat on his morning commute anyway, is philosophical about the whole thing. “Many Indian men need to learn basic etiquette,” he says. He is not wrong. Neither, it turns out, are many Indian women. The seats belong to all of us — which means, technically, they belong to none of us alone.