The Hierarchy of Values
Our identity is shaped by the values we prioritize. True connection and conflict arise not from shared facts but from how we rank what matters most.
You can meet someone who agrees with you on everything and still not trust them. That sounds paradoxical until you realize the agreement was just on facts. What they prioritized—what they valued—was entirely different. And values, more than anything else, are what bind or repel us.
Most people think values are just ethical preferences or vague slogans on office walls. But in practice, they’re a ranking system—your internal compass for deciding what matters more when two good things conflict. When you say “I value honesty,” you’re really saying: “When honesty conflicts with something else—politeness, loyalty, comfort—I pick honesty.” That’s what gives values teeth: they kick in when choices are hard.
Becoming Your Values
The most surprising thing about values is how backwards we often discover them. People don’t always choose their values. Often, they become themselves first—then retrofit an architecture of values to justify who they became.
Think of people who pride themselves on being fiercely independent. For some, that’s a value they always held. But for others, it only crystallized after betrayal, or after discovering that being alone gave them clarity. They became someone who liked their own company, and then their mind went looking for a moral framework to protect that.
That’s not necessarily dishonest—it’s human. Our deepest beliefs are rarely installed like software. They emerge out of experience, pain, and necessity. But because we build these beliefs in reverse, they can be fragile. People defend their values like a story they’re still unsure about.
Shared Values Are a Social Technology
When a group of people truly share values—not just in slogans but in priorities—it changes everything. Startups are one of the clearest examples. The best founders don’t just agree on what the product should do. They agree on what to trade off when everything starts going wrong. Speed over perfection? Users over investors? They share a ranked list of what’s sacred.
That’s why value alignment feels so much deeper than intellectual agreement. You can debate with someone and still respect them if you sense their values are ordered in a way you understand. But when someone swaps the top of your list for the bottom of theirs—treats truth as optional, or loyalty as currency—you feel like you’re speaking two different languages.
The Emotional Economy of Values
One thing people rarely talk about is how we share values through emotions—through what we choose to feel with others. Shared pain, for example, is one of the most powerful ways values are communicated. When someone listens, really listens, to your pain—not to solve it, not to move past it—you understand what they care about.
Same goes for critique. Some people cherish it because it means you’re not bullshitting them. Others see it as disrespect. That’s a clash of values, not just personalities.
Some people prioritize creativity, others precision. Some people pursue wisdom, others seek novelty. None of these are wrong. But what matters is how they’re ranked. A person who values novelty above all else will eventually betray someone who values loyalty. And neither will understand why the other is so hurt.
The Hidden Hierarchies
Part of what makes modern life hard is that many environments pretend there’s no value hierarchy, or worse, reward people for hiding theirs. Schools do this when they teach “critical thinking” but punish students who question authority. Companies do this when they say they value transparency but reward loyalty over honesty.
But people sense the truth eventually. And when they do, they either leave or conform—and in both cases, the system loses. The environments that thrive long-term are the ones that declare their value hierarchy out loud and let people self-select.
That’s why authenticity isn’t just about “being yourself.” It’s about putting your values where others can see them—so the right people can find you, and the wrong ones can move on. And it works both ways. The people and places that change you the most aren’t the ones that give you facts. They’re the ones that subtly or starkly reorder your hierarchy of values.
Final Thought
We talk about identity as if it’s static, or personal, or innate. But the truer thing is this: who you are is mostly who your values let you become. And the most honest way to change someone isn’t by arguing with them—but by making them rethink what they’ve ranked first.