Neither Dominance nor Prestige: Rank
Recent social-science work distinguishes two classic forms of status: dominance (or “power”) and prestige (or “honor”). Each carries its own affect, tone, and posture—and humans are said to have strong norms to promote prestige but resist domination.
Dominance rests on personal threats of reward or retaliation within a sphere of control. It elicits fear and ingratiation that fade once the dominant individual’s gaze or authority lifts. Prestige, in contrast, rests on recognized competence. It evokes admiration, trust, and imitation—responses that continue even in the person’s absence.
Yet a third kind of status has become central in the modern world: rank.
Rank is the standing of the mayor, professor, priest, or boss—status conferred through institutions rather than direct esteem. Its markers (titles, credentials, official privileges) compel others to treat their holders with respect, often regardless of personal judgment. We are not embarrassed to seek genuine honor—the freely granted respect of those who know our abilities firsthand—but we are embarrassed to chase rank, precisely because it is mediated. Others must honor it whether or not they believe in it.
In small forager bands of a few dozen people, everyone knew everyone well. Direct reputation sufficed; there was little need for abstract markers of status. In farming villages of roughly a thousand, indirect reputation mattered more, yet villagers could still form personal opinions about the most visible local achievers. Honor remained tangible: people could witness the deeds they admired and believe those deeds were done for their own sake.
As societies expanded further, however, we came to inhabit vast, impersonal networks. We now encounter many figures said to deserve deference, though we can’t personally verify their merit. Institutional markers of rank—degrees, titles, certifications, organizational roles—let us coordinate respect, but they also invite suspicion. We know that people game these systems, and we feel subtle pressure to suppress that doubt.
Thus, while we still celebrate those who directly do admirable things, we hesitate to admire those who visibly seek the badges of admiration. The pursuit of rank feels different from the pursuit of honor: it is an attempt to acquire the appearance of earned respect, enforced through institutions rather than earned through firsthand esteem.
Dominance demands deference by threat, prestige invites it through excellence, and rank compels it through institutions. The first breeds fear, the second admiration, the third resentment. Modern life, dense with institutions, runs on rank as much as power or honor—but because rank feels half-legitimate and half-imposed, we hide our hunger for it, even as it quietly governs our world.
Added: ChatGPT was unusually helpful for this post.
Adam Smith wrote about being “loved and lovely” in his Theory of Moral Sentiments. Smith was writing about the two halves of self-esteem—being self-efficacious and being worthy of admiration. I think that men of dominance and rank pursue being loved with different views of self-esteem.
The men of dominance don’t understand the second half (being lovely); they are driven by only power for its own sake. The men of rank want both parts but only some truly deserve to be loved and to be found lovely. Most view their rank as the actual value or object of their journey. Only a select few accept their rank as a deserved status, a byproduct of their admirable works.
Many men of prestige will only be known by a small number of people (their families, friends and local communities). Some get elevated to a rank, not by design or intention, but by the insistence of those who admire their values. Some will never fully appreciate how important their lives were and are to not only the smallest group but to the world—How many great parents are responsible for producing good human beings who go on to advance their local communities and by extension the greater society.
Rank is a form of dominance. It's less directly threatening, but the looming power of the institution is still power.