This Is Marketing: You Cant Be Seen Until You Learn to See

 CHAPTER ELEVEN 
Status, Dominance, and Affiliation
Baxter hates Truman
Baxter’s my dog. He’s a mutt, a gregarious, happy, expressive dog who
manages to get along with just about every human and dog he meets.
Except for Truman.
Truman is the regal, self-assured German Shepherd who just moved in
across the street. Truman’s got a loving family, he goes for walks a few
times a day, and he’s driving Baxter crazy.
When Truman’s fabulous family came over for dinner, they brought
Truman along. Baxter freaked out. He couldn’t control himself.
What’s up with that?
Consider the penguins in the Galápagos. They spend about two hours a
day fishing, and the rest of the time organizing themselves into a pecking
order. There’s an enormous amount of social grooming, of bumping, of
social positioning.
And it’s not just my dog and the penguins, of course.
It’s us, as well.
It’s not irrational; status makes it the right choice
Why do people choose one restaurant over another? One college? Why
drive this car and not that one?
Why did that poker champion make a bad bet? Why rent a house instead
of buying one? What club do you belong to?
If you look closely at decisions that don’t initially make sense, you’ll
likely see status roles at work. The decision didn’t make sense to you, but it

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made perfect sense to the person who made it.
We spend a lot of time paying attention to status.
Status roles: The Godfather and the undertaker
In his brilliant book Impro, Keith Johnstone helps us understand status
roles, the hidden (but obvious) drivers of all elements of culture.
There’s always an alpha dog in the pack. And every litter has a runt.
Status roles determine who gets to eat first in the lion pack, and who gets
to drink first at the oasis.
In human culture, status roles are everywhere that more than one human
is present. They exist in dating (who picks up the check) and in the
boardroom (who comes in first, who sits where, who speaks, who decides,
who’s responsible).
My favorite example, one that captures the essence of Johnstone’s point,
is easily found if you visit YouTube and search for the opening scene of The
Godfather.
In the scene, Amerigo Bonasera, the undertaker, a washed-out, tired,
small man in a nondescript black suit, comes to visit the Godfather on the
don’s daughter’s wedding day.
In just a few seconds, the stage is already set.
The low-status Bonasera (how could he be lower?) comes to visit the
high-status Don Corleone, a man who has spent his entire life ensuring that
he is on top of the status heap.
On this wedding day, though, the tradition is that the Godfather must
grant any favor that is asked.
Over the course of just a few minutes of film, the universe is upended.
Bonasera asks Don Corleone to do violence to the men who have harmed
his daughter. Family ties drive him to take a huge risk, to raise his status at
the expense of the Godfather. To make things worse, he even offers to pay
Corleone, transforming a patriarch into a hoodlum.
Oh, the tension.
In that moment, the undertaker’s life is in jeopardy. He has gone too far.
Parental pride has pushed him into a zone where the Godfather can’t

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possibly operate. The Godfather can’t grant this favor and maintain his
status, and status is his lifeblood.
Through some remarkable directing jiu-jitsu, in just a few seconds, the
normal order is restored, and the scene ends with the undertaker bowing to
the Don and kissing his ring, pledging fealty.
Bonasera relieves the tension by returning to his place in the status
hierarchy.