1.

Much in our interior mental lives and in our exterior social structures presupposes that we, human beings, are conscious of social hierarchy, of differences in rank and status. We are ‘conscious’ of hierarchy in both senses of the word: ‘aware’ of and ‘anxious’ about. This consciousness seems rooted in our natural history. Many social animals are likewise preoccupied with ‘pecking order’. These animals include not only chickens, who literally peck, but also our closest primate relatives. And this consciousness of hierarchy, transformed by our species’ special bent for symbol and self-reflection, has driven much of our non-natural history. The main chapters of the human story might be defined by the prevailing answers to the questions of who among us, if anyone, would be above, and who, if anyone, would be below. For most of the career of Homo sapiens, we appear to have lived in societies that were predominantly and often vigilantly egalitarian, at least for adult men. At various times and places, this was eventually upended, with the great many being subordinated, in enduring ways, to the very few. The birth of enduring hierarchy was no easy delivery, apparently having to be midwifed by the coordinated manipulation of superstition and the control, by violence, of food stores. Modernity, albeit not without precedents, is in large part the tale – at times inspiring, at times cautionary – of our experiments with reconciling the equality of individuals with the differentiation of roles and concentrations of power and authority of large-scale, complex societies – with, in one sense of the word, civilization. If we take the longest historical view, therefore, the questions that this has been exploring may be among the first questions of politics. These questions are: First, what is social hierarchy? Second, do we have an objection to being set beneath another in a social hierarchy – standing in a relation of inferiority to another – as such? Third, if there is such an objection, how then do we reconcile ourselves to a social world that seems rife with hierarchy? That is, if complex, large-scale society – if, in one sense of the word, civilization – requires a differentiation of roles and a concentration of power and authority, can it be reconciled with the equality of standing that was guarded so jealously before? The Pecking Order seeks to bring these questions into more explicit, philosophical reflection. This precis tries to convey a bit of what the book has to say about these questions as well as to note some second thoughts and responses to a few specific criticisms.

2.

What do we mean by social hierarchy, or relations of inferiority? In the book, I suggest that it is not sufficient for a relation of inferiority simply that another has more or is better off. Instead, and simplifying a bit, it is sufficient for Loman to stand in a relation of inferiority to Hyman that any of the following obtains.

First – to a first approximation – that Hyman enjoys an asymmetry of power over Loman: that Hyman has greater power over Loman than Loman has over Hyman. Hyman has more power over Loman to the extent, first, that Hyman has the capacity to make decisions to affect Loman more significantly and, second, Hyman faces lower cost or difficulty in making those decisions. As I say, this is just a first approximation. We will return to it later.

Second, that Hyman enjoys an asymmetry of de facto authority over Loman: that Hyman has greater de facto authority over Loman than Loman has over Hyman. Hyman has greater de facto authority over Loman, first, insofar as Hyman can command a more significant range of actions from Loman; second, insofar as Hyman faces lower cost or difficulty in making these commands; and third, insofar as Loman is more likely to obey.

Finally, Loman’s standing in a relation of inferiority to Hyman can consist in a disparity of regard: that Hyman enjoys, whereas Loman does not, certain kinds of favourable responses from others, in some group to which they both belong. Disparities of regard include disparities of esteem for particular qualities and achievements and disparities of consideration (as well as what I call purely expressive disparities).

Esteem for a person’s particular qualities and achievements consists in positive appraisal of or expression of positive appraisal of certain (actually or merely supposed) independently valuable qualities they possess, such as grace or beauty, or (actually or merely supposed) independently valuable achievements they have attained, such as acquired skills or contributions to industry or medicine, letters or science, art or sport.

Consideration for persons includes such things as courtesy, concern for interests, recognition of moral standing, less restrictive social expectations, trusting by default, and attention. First, consideration for persons is typically directed toward some practical response to the person, whereas esteem can be mere detached appraisal, of the sort that an uninvolved spectator might make. Second, consideration for persons, unlike esteem for particular qualities and achievements, is not focused on specific distinguishing traits but instead extends to the person as a whole. Third, consideration, unlike esteem, is rarely something a person merits because of anything distinctive about them.

To be clear, my view is that these conditions – asymmetric power, asymmetric authority, or disparities of regard – are individually sufficient for relations of inferiority, for social hierarchy. Perhaps this means that there is no one thing we mean by ‘social hierarchy’. Instead, there are three distinct things. Nevertheless, they have in common certain features that makes it natural to group them together. They presuppose genuine social relations, whether in terms of interaction or co-membership in a group; they involve an unequal ranking with one party identified as higher and another as lower; and they are between individual natural persons, as opposed to between individual natural persons and entities of an entirely different moral category, such as a force of nature, a collective, or an artificial person.

3.

So much for what social hierarchy or relations of inferiority are. Now we turn to the hypothesis that there is a complaint against standing in a relation of inferiority as such.

Straightaway one might object that there can be no valid complaint against social hierarchy as such, at least not so broadly defined. After all, such asymmetries and disparities are everywhere, in clubs, schools, mass transport, and houses of worship. And yet people have no valid complaints about such asymmetries and disparities.

My reply is that this is because of certain ‘tempering factors’ that we tend to take for granted, noticing them only by their absence. These tempering factors tend to weaken the pro tanto objection to standing beneath another in a social hierarchy. Often working in combination, these tempering factors may weaken the pro tanto objection to such an extent that, once countervailing considerations are taken into account, any remaining complaint to standing below another in a social hierarchy is beneath notice or mention.

A first possible tempering factor would apply only to disparities of regard: namely, that such disparities are merited. In the case of a merited disparity of regard, Miro regards Hyman more highly than Loman in some respect because, first, Miro accurately judges that they differ in some respect and, second, it is constitutive of Miro’s properly understanding and appreciating certain independent values that, on the basis of Miro’s judgment that they differ in that respect, Miro should regard Hyman more highly than Loman in that respect. It is constitutive of understanding and properly appreciating musicality, for example, that one appraises a more musical person more highly, as musical, than a less musical person. I did not count merit as a tempering factor in the book, although perhaps I should have. However we classify merit, the key point is that merited disparities of regard are either not objectionable, or whatever objection there is to them is met, because such disparities are just the flipside of responding to independent values such as musicality.

4.

Other tempering factors apply not, or not only, to disparities of regard, but instead, or also, to asymmetries of power and authority. Although the story is more complex in the book, let me simplify and organize the discussion of the tempering factors a bit, in a way that may do something to allay the worry that they are ad hoc. Let me begin with what I will now call ‘quantitative’ tempering factors. The quantitative tempering factors make the asymmetries and disparities less severe, in scalar terms, so that there is, as it were, less asymmetry or disparity to complain of. These factors are:

• • episodic character: that the asymmetries or disparities arise only in chance, one-off encounters instead of being entrenched in an established, ongoing social structure.

• • context limitation: the asymmetries or disparities are limited to certain contexts, including certain times, places, and social roles.

• • content limitation: the asymmetric power or authority is limited in content: that is, in what can be done or commanded.

• • escapability: that the asymmetries or disparities may be escapable, at will, with little cost or difficulty.

Next there is the tempering factor which I call Egalitarian Relationship: that people in the relationship marked by the asymmetry or disparity might also stand as equals (such as enjoying equal consideration) in some other recognized relationship. In societies like ours, the principal equal relationship that plays this role is equal citizenship: an equal status between you and me which is constituted by our standing in the same relations to the state to which we are subject. In part, we stand in these relations insofar as we have equal and positive influence over the state. In part, we stand in these relations insofar as the state shows us equal consideration. This tempering factor does not quantitatively reduce any asymmetry or disparity, but it can nevertheless make them more acceptable.

This is followed by what I will now call the ‘depersonalizing’ tempering factors of Impersonal Justification and Least Discretion. Suppose that you are subject to the superior power and de facto authority of another natural person, who makes decisions that affect you by certain processes. Nothing can make it the case that you are not subject to the superior power and de facto authority of another natural person; that is built into the description of the situation. But your situation can approximate what it would be like not to be subject to another natural person insofar as two conditions hold. The first is Impersonal Justification: namely, that the superior power and authority of that natural person, who makes decisions by those processes, serves impersonal reasons, against the relevant background, at least as well as any alternative and better than any alternative not marked by a similar asymmetry. Impersonal reasons, simplifying a bit, are not personal: not grounded in the interests, projects, relationships of the natural person wielding the superior power and authority. The impersonal reasons that remain are reasons that any agent would have, such as reasons to serve the public interest – by which I mean improving the choice situation of each person, subject only to the constraint that it trades off among their choice situations fairly – and to respect deontological constraints. The second condition is Least Discretion: namely, that the natural person exercises only so much discretion in decisions about how to use the superior power and authority as serves those impersonal reasons. If the subjection to the power and de facto authority approximates not being subject to another natural person in this way, if Impersonal Justification and Least Discretion are realized, then the power and de facto authority are ‘depersonalized’. To repeat, depersonalization is scalar. Subjection to power and de facto authority is more depersonalized, and so the pro tanto objection to it is weaker, the closer the subjection approximates not being subject to another natural person.

Next, there is the tempering factor of Equal Influence. It is satisfied insofar as any individual who is subject to superior power and authority has as much opportunity as any other individual for informed, autonomous influence over decisions regarding how that power and authority are exercised. If I have as much opportunity for informed, autonomous influence over a decision how to exercise power and authority as anyone else has, then there’s no one to whom I can point and say that because that individual had greater influence, I, in being subjected to that decision, am subordinated to that individual. I may have far less influence than has the collective as a whole. But that collective is not another natural person, with whom a question of equality arises. Indeed, Equal Influence does not so much change the character of the asymmetry of power and authority with other natural individuals as to replace asymmetry with symmetry entirely.

Suppose that, taking into account the quantitative factors, the superior power or authority reaches a first quantitative threshold. There is then a complaint against it unless Egalitarian Relationship, Impersonal Justification, and Least Discretion are satisfied. If the asymmetry of power or authority further reaches a second, higher quantitative threshold, then it is no longer sufficient that Egalitarian Relationship, Impersonal Justification, and Least Discretion are satisfied. Equal Influence is required.

My suggestion, then, is that flight attendants and professors meet the first threshold, but not the second. In their case, Egalitarian Relationship and depersonalization – satisfying Impersonal Justification and Least Discretion – suffice. While there is no valid complaint to being under the power and authority of flight attendants and professors when that power and authority is depersonalized, there does seem to be a complaint against being under the power and authority of flight attendants and professors when that power and authority is not depersonalized, such as when they decide in corrupt ways – a point to which we will return. And my suggestion is that at least the higher reaches of the state meet the second threshold. Not only must there be an egalitarian relationship, and not only must their power and authority be depersonalized. Equal Influence must also be realized. There is, of course, a question of where these thresholds are set. But similar thresholds, and so similar questions of when they are triggered, seem to be everywhere in practical philosophy.

5.

Again, the hypothesis is that we have objections to standing in relations of inferiority to others as such. I have been suggesting how taking account of tempering factors might reply to the objection that there are a great many forms of social hierarchy to which we seem to have no complaint, as well as explain how we might be reconciled to forms of social hierarchy – such as that represented by the state – to which we seem to have at least a pro tanto complaint. How might one argue for the hypothesis?

One way of arguing for the hypothesis is by appealing to paradigms of hierarchy where the tempering factors are absent, such as bondage and caste. We certainly think that the person on the losing end of those hierarchies has a complaint. However, there is the danger that there is so much else, setting hierarchy aside, that is wrong with bondage and caste. How are we to tell whether the complaint is to the hierarchy itself, rather than to the so much else?

So the book’s case for the hypothesis takes a different abductive route. The book considers a number of ‘commonplace claims’: moral ideas that recur either in high theory or in ordinary discourse about society and politics. Examples are:

• • that there is a problem with the state’s ‘coercion’ of those subject to it – or, at any rate, something about how the state relates to those subject to it – that requires the state to clear a special bar of ‘justification’ or ‘legitimacy’;

• • that public officials should not abuse their offices corruptly;

• • that public officials should treat like cases alike;

• • that there is an objection to discrimination on the basis, say, of gender or race;

• • that people are entitled to democratic structures of decision-making, which give each person, at some appropriate level, if not at all levels, an equal say;

• • that there is a prohibition on ‘illiberal’ interference, such as fines, in choices of certain kinds, such as religion;

• • and that people have claims to enjoy the same liberty, opportunity, and treatment that others in one’s society enjoy.

With respect to each of these commonplace claims, the book then tries to substantiate a ‘negative observation’. This is that the commonplace claim can’t be fully explained by appeal to ‘rights against invasion’ – that others respect the boundaries of our person – or by appeal to ‘interests in improvement’ – that others make things better for us. The book then makes, with respect to each commonplace claim at issue, a ‘positive conjecture’. This is that the commonplace claim, or some part of it left unexplained by rights against invasion and interests in improvement, can be seen to represent a ‘claim against inferiority’ – that we not be set beneath another in a social hierarchy. Note that some commonplace claims are claims to tempering factors that would make asymmetric power and authority acceptable.

6.

Let me briefly sketch here just one instance of the triplet of commonplace claim, negative observation, and positive conjecture. (Beitz’s and Hieronymi’s comments will give us the opportunity to consider other instances: concerning democracy and the justification of the state, respectively.) This is the claim against corruption. This is not an improvement complaint. There are forms of official corruption that do not fail to take due care to serve the public interest. Whatever the decision-making processes are that serve the public interest, they will presumably leave some questions underdetermined. A corrupt official, Grafton, would not wrong the public by making either underdetermined decision on the merits or by lottery. Grafton would only wrong the public by making either underdetermined decision on the basis of ‘improper reasons’, such as a bribe or nepotism. Why are officials under, as I put it, a Duty to Exclude such reasons in their deliberations? The answer lies in Least Discretion. Least Discretion requires that a natural person who wields superior power and authority exercise only so much discretion – that is, deliberative or motivated decision-making – in decisions about how to use that superior power and authority as serves the impersonal reasons that justify that superior power and authority. If Grafton could serve the impersonal reasons that justify the superior power and authority just as well without this discretion, then Grafton should not exercise this discretion. In violating the Duty to Exclude, in deciding from an improper reason, however, our corrupt official, Grafton, is exercising just such discretion, violating Least Discretion. At least this is so if we understand an improper reason as a reason such that Grafton could serve the impersonal reasons that justify the superior power and authority just as well without being sensitive to it, even if sensitivity to improper reasons, in any given case, might not mean Grafton served the impersonal reasons any worse. Insofar as Grafton does not exclude improper reasons, insofar as Grafton is sensitive to them, Grafton violates Least Discretion. Grafton exercises excess discretion – discretion beyond what Grafton needs – in order to serve the impersonal reasons that justify the superior power and authority. The paradigm cases of corruption, such as bribery or nepotism, consist in failing to exclude reasons of personal gain or the gain of one’s nephews. These reasons are improper. Grafton doesn’t need to be sensitive to them to serve the impersonal reasons that justify the office. Corruption thus ‘subverts the public to the private’ by turning exposure to the asymmetric power and authority of an impersonally justified office into subjection to the private person who occupies it. All those who are subject to the decisions of the superior power and authority, therefore, have a complaint.

7.

Now let me turn to some criticisms, the responses to which help to illuminate some of the book’s main themes. Some might object that asymmetry of power doesn’t belong in the definition of social hierarchy. I agree that a sheer asymmetry of power doesn’t suffice for social hierarchy. Suppose my neighbour, Grande, who is physically stronger than I am could, in principle, push me around. However, as we both implicitly know, Grande will never exercise his greater power over me, however I may act. Indeed, this implicitly known, never-to-be-exercised greater strength scarcely registers with either of us, let alone rises to the level of an ‘issue’ between us. We just go about our business as if it didn’t exist. In response, I suggested in the book that what made for social hierarchy was any of exercised asymmetric power, Hyman’s endorsement of the power, or Loman’s submission to the power. Some have found this disjunction ad hoc. In response, I think that I might now say that the further condition be simply that the asymmetry of power affects the relationship between Hyman and Loman. Exercise of, endorsement of, or submission to the power are all ways – and there might be other ways – for the asymmetry of power to affect the relationship between Hyman and Loman.

Still, one might suggest that the sheer exercise of superior power, while it affects the relationship between Hyman and Loman, is not sufficient for social hierarchy. Suppose that Hyman exercises his superior power over Loman, as suits his whims, but without leaving Loman any worse off, and without Loman realizing that Hyman is doing this. Perhaps you don’t want to call this social hierarchy. Perhaps my intuitions about the usage of that phrase are eccentric. But still I would want to say that there is a sense in which Loman is ‘under Hyman’s power’ or Loman is Hyman’s ‘plaything’, in a way to which Loman has an objection. There is an asymmetry between natural persons, and there is a losing end of the asymmetry, such that the person on the losing end has a complaint about the arrangement that the person on the winning end does not. If it does not count as social hierarchy, then it is nevertheless something structurally similar in relevant respects.

8.

Another objection runs as follows.

So argues what we can call the Heteronomy View. Before evaluating it, note that it is not enough for de facto authority to be dealienated that it serves some aim that you have reason to serve. Suppose that some natural person wields superior de facto authority over you. That person’s interest is an aim that you have reason to serve. (It is because the interest of each natural person is an aim that you have reason to serve that, derivatively, the public interest is an aim that you have reason to serve.) And yet it would be a paradigm of heteronomy for another natural person to wield superior de facto authority over you exclusively to serve their own interests. What is needed for dealienation is that the de facto authority serves the aims that you have reason to serve making trade-offs between them that are, in some sense, appropriate from your point of view. The Heteronomy View then faces difficult questions about what ‘serves the aims that you have reason to serve’ when there are trade-offs among these aims. But let us suppose that there is at least a dominance or Pareto-style principle that says that a de facto authority ‘serves the aims that you have reason to serve’ when it serves your interests to the greatest extent compatible with serving the public interest no worse.

One difficulty with the Heteronomy View, so interpreted, is that there seem to be de facto authorities that don’t serve the aims that you have reasons to serve, but against which you nevertheless do not have a complaint. First illustration: Suppose that each individual’s rights are respected, so that each individual has de facto authority over others’ invasion of their rights. Suppose that you have an interest in touching me, but I do not permit you to touch me. This de facto authority does not serve the aims that you have reason to serve, and yet you have no complaint about being subject to such authority. The idea that we have an objection only to the superior de facto authority of another natural person, by contrast, explains why you have no complaint about being subject to such authority. You are not subject to the authority of a superior. You have authority over your person, just as I have authority over mine.

Second illustration: Suppose that there are two sets of commands, X and Y, that serve the public interest just as well, and better than any other sets of commands, with the only difference that X serves my interests better than Y, whereas Y serves your interests better than X. If a natural person with superior de facto authority adopts X after a lottery between the two, or after exercising appropriate discretion, then, at least so long as, taking into account the quantitative factors, the superior de facto authority is not too extreme, it does not seem that you have a complaint against that superior de facto authority. Nevertheless, X does not serve the aims that you have reason to serve, given our dominance principle. The idea that you have an objection only to the superior de facto authority of another natural person, by contrast, explains why you have no complaint about X. The de facto authority is depersonalized.

Might it be suggested, however, that there can be objectionable de facto authority that is not the superior de facto authority of another natural person? For example, suppose that a homogenous society democratically commands to all of its members that some foreign religion, which has not yet made inroads into the society, not be practiced. Might some member of the society have a complaint against this de facto authority, which is nevertheless not the superior de facto authority of any natural person? If the ban on the religion worsens people’s choice situations, then there is of course that objection to it.

So, suppose that the ban on the religion improves everyone’s choice situation, since the religion is a bad life choice. In that case, it is not only the inferiority view that does not account for a complaint against the de facto authority that issues the ban. The Heteronomy View also does not account for a complaint against it, since the ban best serves everyone’s interests. As we are currently understanding dealienation, the de facto authority is dealienated.

9.

In concluding the book, I suggest that it might be seen as an encounter of two understandings of liberty with one of equality. On one understanding of liberty one is free insofar as one has the opportunity to live a worthwhile life. Or, at least, that is why being free matters. If so, then claims to liberty are just claims to improvement. On another understanding, one is free insofar as one is not invaded, whether or not invasion might improve one’s condition. If so, then claims to liberty are just rights against invasion. The conception of equality is the absence of relations of inferiority. Claims to equality are claims to noninferiority – or, more simply, claims against inferiority. To a greater extent than we have articulated to ourselves, the book can then be seen as arguing, our political thinking is driven by concerns not so much about freedom as about inferiority. My train of thought in the book thus amounts to a kind of slow-motion, anti-libertarian judo. Press hard enough on some complaints of unfreedom and you end up in a posture not so much of defense of personal liberty as opposition to social hierarchy.

Or, perhaps a better way of putting the point is that the opposition to social hierarchy can be understood as a claim to liberty of a different kind. Granted, the sort of freedom pressed by claims against inferiority isn’t freedom understood as being resourced to chart a life according to your choices or being insulated from invasion by others. Instead, it is freedom understood as having no other individual as master, as being subordinate to no one.

There is yet another conception of freedom: positive self-rule, when the political decisions under which one lives are one’s own decisions. This is easy to conflate with noninferiority. It is the conflation of having no master with having oneself as master. Rousseau’s Social Contract is built on the very faultline of this conflation. On the one hand Rousseau hopes that rule by the general will be rule by no other particular individual. Since all have equal influence over the formation of the general will, in being subjected to it, they are not subordinated to any other individual; ‘each, giving himself to all, gives himself to no one’. On the other hand, Rousseau also hopes that rule by the general will realize positive self-rule for each person: understood as obedience to the law one has prescribed to oneself. Rousseau’s climactic phrase ‘obey only himself’ is one among many passages that yoke the two aspirations together: the (here literally expressed) aim of not being subordinate to any other person – to obey no one else – with the (here at least implicated) aim of positively ruling oneself – to obey oneself.

The fact that some decision fails to be yours – and so does not realize self-rule – is still compatible with its succeeding in not being any more someone else’s – and so freeing one from inferiority. At very least there is the basic structural point that it is harder to avoid heteronomy – understood as subjection to the power and authority of a will that isn’t your own, whether that that of a superior, an inferior, an equal or none of these; whether that of a natural or artificial being; whether that of an individual or a collective – than it is to avoid inferiority – understood as subjection to the superior power and authority of a natural individual. It is harder simply because there is more to avoid.