Why 'Ayurveda' cannot be a monopoly

Not everything that is commercially valuable can be claimed as a trademark. That is the fundamental principle the Rituals-Ayurveda conflict brought back into focus in May 2026. The Dutch cosmetics company Rituals sent a cease-and-desist letter to two entrepreneurs seeking to register their business 'House of Ayurveda' as a trademark. Rituals holds rights to terms including 'The Ritual of Ayurveda'. What began as routine trademark enforcement ended in public controversy. The Hindu Council of the Netherlands described it as "a clear and principled line." Within days, Rituals withdrew its objection.

The question this case raises matters more than the news itself: can a company claim exclusive rights to the word 'Ayurveda'? And more broadly: when does a cultural concept qualify as a trademark, and when does it no longer?

A brand name that describes what a product does, or what it draws inspiration from, is legally vulnerable. That is especially true when that name also carries significant cultural weight.

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What a trademark protects, and what it does not

The basic principle of trademark law is straightforward: a trademark helps consumers identify the commercial origin of a product or service. It essentially says "this product comes from this company." Nothing more, nothing less.

Purely descriptive terms cannot fulfil that function. Generic words and category names are, in principle, freely available to all. Granting an exclusive monopoly over such terms would distort the market and place an unfair burden on competitors.

It would be difficult to register 'Bakery' as an exclusive trademark for bread, or 'Fresh Milk' for dairy products. Such terms must remain available for anyone who needs them commercially.

'Ayurveda' refers to an ancient Indian health philosophy and way of life. In the wellness and cosmetics sector, it has become a reference point used by countless companies. The legally decisive question is therefore: does the word describe what a product does, or does it identify the commercial origin of that product? For 'Ayurveda', that answer is far from straightforward.

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Legally correct, socially untenable

Trademark law assesses descriptiveness from the perspective of the average consumer. For the average European consumer, Ayurveda is in many cases not a clearly defined cultural system, but a loose concept associated with wellness, natural care and Indian-inspired rituals. Under this standard, a term like 'Ayurveda' may be sufficiently distinctive to qualify for trademark registration.

For millions of people of Indian origin, however, Ayurveda is not a brand position. It is a fundamental part of identity, tradition and daily life. Granting exclusive trademark rights over such a term touches on something trademark law was never intended to address: the ownership of cultural heritage.

This creates a tension that trademark law has yet to adequately resolve. A registration can be legally sound and socially unacceptable at the same time. The ground of public policy and accepted principles of morality exists within trademark law, but offers limited traction in cases like this. The issue is not offensive content. It is the appropriation of cultural heritage, a category for which trademark law currently has no explicit exception, but where the pressure to create one is growing.

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The paradox of authentic naming

Behind the Rituals case lies a broader dynamic. More and more companies reach for culturally loaded, meaningful or descriptive words when making naming decisions. The logic is understandable: authenticity sells. A name that immediately communicates what a product inspires or promises is effective in marketing.

But that is precisely why brand strategy and trademark law are increasingly in conflict.

A name that describes too well what you offer is legally weak. Harder to register. Less enforceable. More vulnerable during international expansion, where descriptive elements are assessed differently across jurisdictions. When that name also carries cultural significance, another risk layer is added: public backlash, reputational damage and a forced withdrawal that attracts exactly the kind of attention a company wants to avoid.

Rituals has built a commercially successful brand on terms like 'ritual', 'house' and 'Ayurveda'. The communicative strength of those names is real. Their legal robustness is less so.

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A boundary the law has yet to draw

This pattern is not unique to Ayurveda. A comparable tension arose with the trademark 'Pho' in the United Kingdom: a Vietnamese national dish registered as a trademark in Britain because the average British consumer did not recognise it as a descriptive term. Until awareness grew, the cultural significance became clearer and public opinion followed. What was legally available proved socially unsustainable.

The common thread is consistent. A term remains available for trademark registration as long as the average consumer does not recognise it as descriptive or generic. Once that changes, the legal position changes with it. Sometimes retroactively.

WIPO formally acknowledged this issue in the 2024 treaty on genetic resources and traditional knowledge. The recommendation to cultural communities is paradoxical but coherent: if you want to prevent commercial parties from claiming terms rooted in your cultural heritage, proactive trademark registration can be a means of protection. Brand protection therefore also works in the opposite direction.

The broader question of whether trademark law needs an explicit exception for cultural heritage remains unanswered. But it is being asked with increasing urgency.

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Names built to last

The lesson of this case is not that Rituals built a flawed brand. The lesson is that names placed too close to cultural concepts or descriptive terms are structurally vulnerable, both legally and socially.

The Ayurveda case matters beyond this one dispute. It shows why brand strategy and IP strategy need to be considered together from the outset, not as separate disciplines addressed in sequence.

A strong brand name requires distinctiveness that does not depend on cultural associations others are equally entitled to use. It must be available, defensible and internationally usable without relying on what cannot exclusively belong to anyone. That requires an integrated approach in which strategy, naming and legal availability are assessed together, not in isolation.

Companies that underestimate this will, sooner or later, run into the limits of trademark law. And perhaps that is exactly what this debate is really about: not who uses a word, but where the line falls between branding and the monopolisation of language.