SoulCycle's elitism is epitomized by its unwritten first row rules

Never worked out at SoulCycle?

Here's a test of whether it'll make you swoon or gag: would you be okay being told you're not good enough to ride in the front row?

The indoor-cycling studio's success comes in large part from a carefully cultivated elitism (starting with the $34 per class price-tag). Nothing illustrates this culture better than what goes on with the front row.

It starts with your first ride. Newcomers are encouraged to stay away from the front and instructed to sit near the back.
Also not welcome in the front are people who won't fall in line with the "pack" culture.

SoulCycle paints some rules on its wall, and one of them addresses this specifically: "There is a direct correlation between your energy and your neighbor's ride. If you want to do your own thing, please don't ride in the front row."


And while anyone can technically book a bike in the front, they may still be encouraged to move if they're deemed not good enough, The New York Times reported early this year. The Times's Courtney Rubin wrote:

"Many SoulCycle instructors insist on preapproval of their front rows, with new clients being asked whether they'd like to take a back seat. In the minutes before class, the SoulCycle staff consults the "move list" and considers front-row hopefuls. Occasionally, if no one makes the cut, "staff will come in and ride because it sets the tone for the whole class," said Gabby Etrog Cohen, a spokeswoman."

We reached out to SoulCycle to see if anything has changed with the front-row policies since the Times' story. Citing a quiet period ahead of its upcoming initial public offering, the company declined to comment.

The Netflix series "Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt," parodied this phenomenon. Kimmy is not permitted to ride in the front row, but after she proves herself, she is granted by the instructor the ability to move forth and pedal.

It seems too ludicrous to be real, but the holiness of the front row is very real for SoulCycle riders who  
reinforce this culture on social media:

 

 

But the philosophy is just bad for newcomers of any fitness level.

Given how tightly packed the studios are, when you're riding in the back all you can see from the back is the rear end of a fellow rider.

And considering how Soul-Cycle's workout is built around choreography, it's problematic to not be able to follow the instructors (or potentially have instructors not be able to see you). The workout has been criticized for being potentially unsafe, making good instruction early on that much more important.

It could also backfire as SoulCycle looks to expand globally, something it has promised in its recent filing to go public. Customers in New York and Los Angeles might put up with, or even embrace, the studio's elitist rules -- but not everyone will.

The unwritten front-row rules are also counterintuitive to the cycling program's ethos of self-love. SoulCycle flat-out promises on its website to change lives, and the cycling class prioritizes pseudo-yogic platitudes, encouraging people they can be their best, they are athletes, they can be rockstars. That is, provided they remain in the back until they're good enough.

 

 
That said, it's also a strategy to keep 'em coming back for more, and it seems to be working. You have to work your way to be good enough for the front row - and by good enough, it doesn't mean in shape enough. It means that you've mastered the moves on the bike. Which means you've gone to enough classes.